“Where do you think you’re going, stupid girl?”
“Fuck your whole family!” He slashed me again, blood welling up where the leather had stung my breast. I yanked the locker open, grabbing a deadly looking gaff. The edge of the blade on the long pole was rusty, but sharp enough. I rolled to the side, and this time he missed me. I jabbed at him with the long pole, driving the spear deep into his shoulder. Now it was Dub who bellowed in pain as I suggested “Fuck your dead mother, dickweed!”
As soon as I pulled the gaff out to try for a better stab, his wound simply closed. Fucking immortals. Why don’t I have my Bone Knife?
The next crack of his bullwhip wasn’t aimed at my body. He skillfully aimed the whizzing leather at my gaff pole. The whip wrapped around it, and he jerked my weapon out of my hand with ease.
Again, I tried to run for it, although there wasn’t anywhere to go. If the boat had been in the ocean, I could have dived into the water at least, but we were still a hundred feet up in the air. I grabbed at every loose object I passed, hurling a life preserver at his head, throwing a fire bucket at his feet to trip him. He dodged and skipped, and lashed out again with that whip. This time, it struck my neck, and wrapped around and around my throat. He yanked me hard, and I fell to the deck, choking.
He kept pulling. The leather squeezed harder, harder. I was choking for air, trying to get my fingers in between the whip and my throat, but it was too tight. Black spots started dancing around, as my vision darkened. Before it left me completely, I saw a black shape streak from the sky.
Omen. The gigantic raven, the Morrigan’s familiar. It struck Dub hard in the face, knocking him to his knees, and ripping open a big flap of skin from his cheek. The wound gushed gouts of evil black blood, but only for a moment, before healing itself again. Omen was on him again, sinking his powerful talons into Dubs face and hanging on. Keeping this wound open as the bird squeezed tight with his powerful claws. Again, blood pumped out, splashing his shirt front and pooling on the deck around him.
His howl told me that even if the wound wouldn’t harm him for long, it certainly hurt like a motherfucker for now. So much that he dropped the whip, trying to pull the raven loose with both hands.
I pulled the whip from my throat, gasping for air. Omen was shrieking with a terrible sound, not a caw exactly, more like a scream. He gripped even deeper into Dub’s bloody face, furiously flapping his wings, as if he might actually take off with his prey clutched in his terrible talons. But somehow Dub managed to grab both of the raven’s wings, and started pulling, hoping to get the bird off his face. He couldn’t. The bird just dug deeper into his face. So Dub gave an even stronger yank, and pulled the flesh of his whole face off. The bird kept this awful prize in his claws, ripping at the bloody mass that was Dub’s face, driving his big black beak into Dub’s eyes. The shrieking agony pouring from the hole where Dub’s mouth had been could drown out an air raid siren.
While the bird and the monster struggled, I staggered to my feet, running back toward the stern, not that it would help, but where else could I go? Manannán was still at his post, poling the boat along, although this was clearly impossible. “Where are you taking us?” I shouted at the empty blackness under that cowl. No answer, of course. “Am I dead?”
I turned away from the boatman, trying to catch a view of what was below us. It seemed strange to see we were still right over the beach, with Brann, Keegan, and Katie directly below. Just as I began turning away from the railing, Dub hammered into me, throwing his arms around my waist, trying to wrestle me to the ground. There were still a few weeping wounds on his face. But he had a face. It had already grown back. Ugly as ever.
He managed to hook my leg with his, and brought me down with a trip throw. As soon as he got on top of me, he began tearing at my shirt. To be fair, the cool sea air did feel soothing to my whip lashed, now exposed breasts. But fuck that. “Rape much, fucker?” I said, as soon as my hand found a firm grip on his balls.
As I’ve pointed out, with an immortal being, nothing I did to him would have any fatal, or even permanent effect on Dub. But as bad as having his face torn off must have hurt, judging by the bellow of blinding pain Dub cut loose, when I clamped his nuts with a vice grip on and squeezed as hard as I could. And did not let go. I yanked until something came loose in my hand. Oh sure, they’d grow back. Still, it felt pretty satisfying for a moment there.
Again, I scrambled up and tried to find something to use, to fight him off. I saw a coil of chain by the rail, and made a dash for it. Dub recovered enough to stagger to his feet, and took a couple wobbly steps toward me. I whirled the chain, ready to bash his face as soon as he got close enough.
“C’mon, ass wipe,” I invited. “Try it.”
He sprang forward, and I whupped him across the skull, which sent him stumbling into the boatman. Not good. His momentum knocked Manannán into the railing hard, and he almost lost his pole. Dub pushed off him,
