shook fish-stun toxins from his mane onto the red.
The long red serpent retaliated with a roar, shaking his head and spattering venom wildly on his neighbors. Almost instantly, the two serpents locked in combat, wrapping one another and releasing spray after spray of venom. Others darted into the conflict. A drift of toxin hit one of the giant blues, who reacted reflexively with a stinging spray of his own. Furious with pain, a green closed with him and wrapped him. Their struggles thrashed the water around them to white foam, driving lesser serpents to collide with others, who sprayed or snapped in response. The chaos spread.
Over it all, Shreever heard the bellowing of the silver ship. 'Stop! You injure one another! Cease this! Kill me if you must, but do not end yourselves in this useless wrangling!'
Did one of the serpents take him at his word? Was the drift of venom that brought hoarse screams from him an accident? Had it been intended for another serpent? Too late to wonder, useless to know. The silver ship bellowed his agony in a human voice, flailing uselessly at the burning mist. The cries of humans were mixed with his, a wild pitiful screaming. Then from the deck of the ship, a winging arrow skipped over Shreever's hide and bounced harmlessly off Maulkin. The futile attack on their leader was enough to enrage the agitated serpents. A score of the serpents closed on the hapless ship. One immense cobalt rammed it as if it were an orca, while several lesser ones spattered venom at him. They were not accustomed to fighting above the Plenty. The fickle winds of the upper world carried most of their spray back into their own faces. It only increased the frenzy of the attack.
'Stop them!' Maulkin was roaring, and She Who Remembers lent her voice as well. 'Cease this madness! We battle ourselves, to no good end.'
The white serpent's voice rang out over all of them. 'If Bolt wants this ship killed, let her do it herself! Let her prove herself to us as worthy of being followed. Challenge her to the kill!'
It was his words, rather than those of the leaders, that seemed to damp the frenzy. Sessurea wrapped two struggling serpents and carried them down and away from the ship. Shreever and others followed his example, dragging the combatants down and away into the calming depths of the Plenty until they could master themselves. The madness that had seized them all began to disperse.
AS ABRUPTLY AS THE ATTACK HAD BEGUN, IT CEASED. 'l DON'T UNDERSTAND.' Brashen staggered to the railing and stared incredulously at the serpents as they flowed away from his ship. 'What does it mean?'
Clef grinned up at him in white-faced relief. He clutched at his scalded forearm but still managed to grin. 'Means we don't gotter die yet?'
The length of the ship, men were screaming and staggering, pawing painfully at smarting flesh. Only two of his archers had been hit with a direct spray of the stuff, but the drift had debilitated many. Those who had been affected were dropping now, to writhe on the deck, pawing uselessly at the slime that ate at them. 'Don't rub your injuries! You'll only spread the stuff. Sea water!' Brashen bellowed out over the confusion. 'Get the deck pumps going! Every man who can manage a bucket! Wash down the figurehead, your mates and the deck. Dilute the stuff. Scramble!'
Brashen quickly scanned the water, hoping for a glimpse of Althea's boat. He had seen her regain command of it. While the serpents surrounded Paragon, she had turned it once more toward Vivacia. The dazzle of sunlight on the waves and the moving, flashing backs of the serpents surrounding the other ship confused his eyes. Where was she? Had she reached safety? It was so hard to set her from his mind. It was a physical wrench to turn his back on the water. He could do nothing for her; his immediate duties were closer to hand.
In several places, the railing and the deck smoked with the cold burning of the serpents' venom. Brashen seized a bucket of sea water from a passing hand and took it forward to the figurehead. Amber was there before him. She dashed a bucket of water over Paragon's steaming shoulder. As the sea water carried away a gelatinous mist of serpent venom, the whole ship shuddered in relief. Paragon's keening dropped to panting moans. Amber turned to Brashen and tried to take the bucket he held. His breath seized in his chest. 'Stand still,' he ordered her gruffly, and upended the bucket over her head.
Great hanks of her hair flowed away with the running water. On the left side of her body, her clothing hung in steaming tatters. The side of her face was rippled with blisters. 'Strip off those clothes, and wash your skin thoroughly,' he ordered her.
She swayed where she stood. 'Paragon needs me,' she said faintly. 'All others have turned on him. Every family, every kin he has ever claimed have turned on him. He has only us, Brashen. Only us.'
Paragon suddenly turned a pocked and steaming face toward them. 'I do need you,' he admitted hoarsely. 'I do. And that is why you should get below and strip off those clothes before the venom eats you through.'
There was a sudden shout of horror from Clef. He was pointing with a shaking hand. 'Ship's boat, ser! A serpent's tail struck it, en they all went flyin' like dolls! Right ento the middle o'em serpents. En now I ken't see'm at all.'
In an instant, Brashen stood beside him. 'Where?' he demanded, shaking the boy's shoulder, but all Clef could do was point at nothing. Where the boat had been there was now only the colorful rippling of serpent backs and glittering waves. He doubted Althea could swim; few sailors bothered to learn, claiming that if one went overboard, there was small sense in prolonging the agony. He thought of the weight of her long split skirt pulling her under and groaned aloud. He could not let her go like that. To put out another ship's boat into that sea of serpents would simply murder the men he sent.
'Up anchor!' he shouted. He would take the Paragon in closer to Vivacia and search the stretch of water where Clef had last seen them. There was a tiny chance they remained alive, clinging to the capsized boat. Pirates and serpents notwithstanding, he'd find her. He had to.
KENNIT WATCHED THE ONCOMING WAVE OF HEADS AND GAPING MAWS AND tried to keep his aplomb. The distant screaming of his ship crawled up his nerves and grated against his soul, waking memories of a dark and smoky night years ago. He pushed them away. 'Why do they return? They have not finished him.' He dragged in a breath. 'I thought they could do this swiftly. I would have a quick end to this.'
'I do not know,' Bolt replied angrily. She threw back her head and trumpeted at the oncoming serpents. Several of them replied, a confusing blast of sound.
'I think you will have to vanquish your own nightmares,' the charm informed him quietly. 'Behold. Paragon comes for you.'
In a moment of great clarity, Kennit watched the ship ponderously swing in the wind, and then start toward him. So. It was to be battle after all. Perhaps it was better that way. When the battle was over, he would tread Paragon's decks once more. There would be a final farewell, of sorts. 'Jola!' He was pleased that his voice rang clear and strong despite how his heart shook inside him. 'The serpents have done their task. They have weakened and demoralized our enemy. Prepare the men for battle. I will lead the boarding party.'
BRASHEN SHOULD HAVE NOTICED THAT DESPITE ALL THE ROARING AND thrashing, the serpents were not attacking Vivacia. He should have noticed the orderly way the pirates massed along the railings as Paragon came alongside. His eyes should have stayed on Kennit's ship instead of searching the water for Althea's body. He should have known that a truce flag was no more than a piece of white rag to the pirate king…
The first grapples hit his deck when he thought he was still out of range of such devices. Even as he angrily ordered them cleared away, a line of archers stepped precisely to Kennit's railing. Arrows flew, and Brashen's men went down. Men who had survived the serpents' venom died shocked deaths as Brashen reeled in horror at his own incompetence. More grapples followed the first, the ships were pulled closer together, and then a wave of boarders came swinging from their rigging into his. Pirates were suddenly everywhere, pouring over his railings and onto his decks in a seemingly endless wave. The defenders were pushed back, and then their line broke and became small knots of men struggling against all odds to survive.
Paragon bellowed and thrust and parried with a staff that found only air. From the moment the first grapples were thrown, victory was an undreamt dream. Paragon's decks soaked up the blood of the dying and the ship roared with the impact of the losses. Worse was the sound that reached Brashen's ears with the relentless whistling of a wind in the rigging. It was Vivacia's voice, crying out in words both human and alien as she urged the pirates on. Almost he was glad Althea had perished before she had heard her own ship turn against them.
His crew fought bravely and uselessly. They were outnumbered, inexperienced, and some were injured.
