Sunmaster, page 20
"I didn't mean to not be doing much!" Rasim began before the rest of what she'd said settled in, and with a smile as sharp as Nasira's own, nodded. "I think I can do that, aye, Captain."
A roar went up this time as the captain—and, following her lead, Rasim—took hold of the water around them and brought the Waifia in a slow but graceful curve beneath the ocean's surface. Rasim felt Kisia's magic supporting Desimi's, and as the ship began a ponderous journey north, the witchery around him changed a little. A few witches turned to helping Desimi, and someone built thin tunnels through the water to the surface so bad air could be swapped for good. The air freshened quickly, sky witchery assisting an easy exchange.
Most of the crew, though, continued with the effort of keeping the huge, strangely buoyant Waifia far enough underwater that its passage didn't disturb the surface. As they adapted to working entirely underwater and the amount of drag a ship the size of the Waifia commanded, Rasim and Nasira channeled currents to move them along at increasing speed. Then a shudder ran through the flagship's already-weakened bones and somebody yelled at them from below as the sounds of repairs suddenly stopped. Rasim exchanged a glance with the captain before they both pulled back on their speed.
Kisia suddenly whispered, "Look," in an awe-stricken voice. Half the crew did, first at her, then followed her gaze upward until a collective gasp ran through them.
A whale, its pale belly stretching nearly the length of the Waifia, swam above them. It clearly knew they were there, and just as clearly seemed to be aware it had been noticed in turn. A few massive surges of its tail sent it well ahead of the ship before it dived and rolled gently through the water to come alongside them with almost no visible effort. It slowed, examining them with an eye about the size of Rasim's palm, then accidentally outpaced them and had to come back to look again.
Sesin, near the Waifia's bow, gasped as sharply as everyone else had before and whispered, "A baby. She's got a baby," as a whale barely a third the size of the larger one came to investigate, too. It was slower and bolder, spinning next to them as if inviting them to play, then diving beneath the ship to bump it. A shout of alarm rose through the crew and the young whale popped up beside them with a comically distressed expression, although how its enormous, mostly unmoving face could look either funny or distressed, Rasim didn't know.
Its mother came around again, slowing until she drifted in the water beside them, nearly close enough to touch. Kisia, eyes huge with wonder, edged up the railing and cast Desimi a hopeful look. The big journeyman smiled crookedly and nodded, and Kisia carefully put her hand into the water that Desimi was keeping back from the ship.
Rasim supposed the whale was technically holding her breath anyway, but he had the feeling she held her breath as Kisia reached for her. When she couldn't quite touch her, she twitched sideways. Nasira yelled, "Brace!" and the witch power held the Waifia in place as the whale's staggeringly huge body brushed against its side. Kisia put her palm below the tremendous animal's eye, her entire self radiating with awestruck admiration. They remained that way for a heartbeat, hardly even that, before the whale moved again, the whole impossible length of her skimming along beside the ship. Then she dived, her baby following more reluctantly, and the entire ship's crew let out another collective gasp.
For a very long time, silence reigned on the submerged ship, awe overwhelming everything but the concentration necessary to keep the Waifia underwater.
Then someone called, "There are ships ahead, Captain," and all attention returned to the moment, and the fight to come.
CHAPTER 24
The ships were Northern.
Rasim had swum beneath enough of the longships to know the shape of them in the water, even if the oars that struck and dipped beneath the surface weren't enough to recognize them by. There were a lot of them, more than he could count easily from below, and were mostly the narrower, longer ships meant for speed and stealth. The Northerners had cargo ships, too, broader of beam and running deeper in the water, but most of these were warships.
A fair number of them had been sunk, debris and sailors alike littering the water. Rasim could feel sea witchery surging with focused fury, and through the wavering blur of the sea, watched a pulse of foaming water smash into a Northern hull, not too far way. A hoarse cheer went up from the Waifia's crew as the punch of water broke through the hull, but no one left their duties. Several people, including Rasim, looked toward Captain Nasira, to see what they would do next.
The captain scowled upward, studying the situation from an angle none of them had ever considered before. Despite whatever magic the Northerners possessed, a noticeable number of their ships were putting distance between the wreckage and themselves. Hassin, working from underwater, was too difficult a target for the Northern warriors. Nasira whispered a curse and shook her head. "We can't surface to fight or they'll sink the ship, and I can't send you all to fight with Hassin or…"
"We'll sink the ship," Kisia finished for her, and while the captain gave her a look that suggested that hadn't been necessary, she also nodded.
Desimi, through gritted teeth, said, "We can't just let them get away with this," and Nasira's gaze skittered toward him.
"What would you have me do, Journeyman? There's no way to even know if Hassin stopped their lightning witch, or whether they have only one. If we surface, it may cost the entire crew their lives. If we stay below and let them go, at least we survive to show them what it means to attack Ilyaran witches. Kisia," she added, "go find Hassin. Bring him back to the Waifia so we know what's been going on."
Kisia said, "Me?" not so much in protest as astonishment, then glanced around the ship. Older crew with greater experience and maybe more powerful witchery were all deep in concentration, maintaining the submerged flagship's integrity and safety. Rasim saw her realize that, and also saw her recognize that she was skilled enough to fulfill the task without being so talented her absence might further endanger the ship. "Yes, Captain."
Sea witches usually dove over the railing, letting water catch them and carry them away, when they made a quick escape from their ship. Kisia climbed the rail, then paused there, faint uncertainty twisting her expression before she shrugged and stepped through the barrier of water. Rasim had never seen anything quite like the way she went from standing on the solid deck to standing in the ocean, as if with one step she'd gone from being a land animal to a sea creature. She'd brought air with her, but still, she hung suspended in the water, effortless and enviable.
Then she visibly got her bearings and gathered more witchery before surging off through the water, as Hassin had done what seemed like hours ago now. "Steady on," Nasira said softly. "Now we wait."
More than one Northern ship sank while they waited, sailors scrambling for other ships that fled the battle site. "I don't see any lightning," Rasim said quietly. "I think we would, even from down here. Maybe Hassin did it." He sounded pained, even to himself. Stopping the lightning witch by any means necessary had to be done, but it pained him to think of Hassin killing someone.
Nasira said, "He better have," without a trace of pain.
Beyond that, no one really spoke as weariness began to set in. Most sea witches could keep themselves submerged, drawing air from above, almost indefinitely, but the Waifia, filled with air as it was, wanted to pop back to the surface. Staying deep was constant, tiring work, but letting the lower decks flood would not only sweep away their belongings, but all their food. Keeping the broken ship afloat to get it home would be work enough without some of the crew having to tend to fishing and water purifying. There were no good answers, and as a bone-chilling cold settled in, Rasim realized they were going to have to act on bad ones very soon.
There was still a tight-packed group of ships above them when Kisia returned with Hassin. The young master looked exhausted and dropped from the water to the deck, shivering. Sunmaster Endat, softly, said, "If I may, Captain," and at Nasira's nod, brought a ball of fire to life between his palms. Farther down the ship, Skymaster Arrat muttered and Rasim felt a breeze spring up too, as the sky witches altered the air supply to account for what the fire needed.
It was cold enough on board that even the little ball of flame radiated distinct warmth, and changed the overall temperature quickly. Pynda went to the other end of the ship and created a flame of her own, the skymasters' breeze spreading the warming air around the ship. Hassin, still shivering, nodded his thanks, and Kisia said, "They either had only one lightning witch or they learned really fast," when the first mate's teeth chattered too much for him to talk. "Hassin dragged her overboard and drowned her, and there was no more lightning after that."
Hassin nodded again, then managed, "You talk," through shivers, and Kisia nodded.
"There are about seventy longships and another dozen shipboards with supplies. There were about seventy longships. Hassin took out nearly a third of them. I can't do it myself," Kisia added with chagrin. "I can't push a water bolt fast enough to break their hulls. Anyway, a lot of them retreated, but there's a handful left up there."
Sesin came down from the bow, crouching at Hassin's side to place her hand against his cheek before glancing at Nasira. "He's got the mortal chill. He'll be all right, but it'd be best if I could take him below to warm him, Captain." At Nasira's nod, she asked Endat for help, and they went below to make a warmer space for the shivers-sick sea witch.
Pynda, after an upward glance, shook her head and called, "I can't promise the Northern ships won't see the fire, Seamaster," and, with a curse, Nasira indicated she should douse the flame.
The air grew colder instantly, and Nasira cursed again. "If we don't surface soon we'll all have the mortal chill. What else did he say to you, Kisia? Did he see who's leading that brigade?"
"He didn't dare surface, Captain, and he didn't stop to interrogate any of the dying."
"Probably just as wise," Nasira muttered, then glanced toward Rasim. "You think it's Lorens?"
"I don't see how he could have gotten here this fast," Rasim admitted. His voice sounded strange and hollow in the water-enclosed bubble the Waifia drifted in. "We're ten days out of Shenryal and the Waifia is faster than any Northern ship. If it's Lorens, they'd have to have been waiting for h…" He trailed off as the possibility crossed his mind at the same time it crossed his lips.
Nasira sighed hugely. "And they could have been. It's months since we left Hongrunn. Anything could have happened. All right, listen up." She waited a heartbeat until everyone's ears were turned her way, nodded with satisfaction, and said, "We have to surface before we all go numb from cold. There are a handful of Northern ships up there, but they're not waiting for us. Not for a whole crew of Ilyaran sea witches. They're waiting to see if one lone witch is going to finish sinking their fleet, and I speak the truth when I say I want to do that in the very marrow of my bones."
A rush of quiet agreement raced around the ship, and Nasira's voice sharpened. "But our priority is keeping the Waifia afloat. We have a long, long journey home ahead of us, and she's battered and beaten beyond what any ship should take. We're battered beyond what any crew should take, although I defy those Northern dogs to say we're beaten. If the chance arises, if I give the word, then we'll fight, but I want us to live more than I want us to win right now, do you hear me, seamasters? We have a duty to Ilyara, and we can't fulfill it from the bottom of the Western Sea."
This time the agreement came as a reluctant mumble. Nasira glared around at her crew, eyes snapping with indignation. "I can't hear you!"
"Aye, Captain," came louder this time, but not loud enough for Nasira, who snapped, "I can't hear you!" again.
"Aye, Captain!" The response boomed that time, crew catching each other's eyes and smiling wryly. They knew well enough she was playing to a script meant to hearten them and bring them together, but even knowing it was a script, it worked, and there was humor and appreciation in that.
"Then bring the Waifia up," Nasira said with satisfaction. "Let's see what these Northerners have to offer." She called out names, assigning some crew to defensive duties, others to speed up repairs, and most of the rest kept concentrating on bringing the ship to surface slowly and in one piece. It wanted to pop to the surface like a child's toy in the bath, and keeping its ascent to a steady pace was as difficult as keeping it deep had been.
Rasim almost wished he could be on the Northern ships to see it when they breached, though. They might have seen the masts rising, he supposed, but that would only be inexplicable until the Waifia, larger than even the great whale, broke the surface with a thunderous watershed. The crew shouted its triumph, and in the near distance, Northerners shouted in shocked dismay. Most of their ships began backing away, their crews leaning into the oars and the fact that both ends of a longship were slender and bow-like, making a reversal of direction little more than a reversal of an oar pull.
A single ship held the line, and a dark-cloaked person stepped to the bow, hands lifted. The air, so much warmer than it had been below the ocean, suddenly seemed to hum and hairs raised on Rasim's arms. He started to cry a warning, but before he'd done more than drawn half a breath, an arc of water slammed across the Northern ship's bow, sweeping the cloaked person away.
Another hoarse shout rose from the Waifia's crew, everyone trying to see whose witchery had taken down the Northerner. Nasira stood with her hand clenched, a sneer of satisfaction spread across her face as she held the Northerner under water, until Rasim, in a small voice, said, "Should we question them?"
Nasira gave him a hard look. "Not unless you've got heartbreak hidden in Siliaria's pouch there, Journeyman. If you want a Northerner to question, find one who isn't a witch."
Rasim whispered, "Aye, Captain," as someone else came to the bow of the stationary Northern ship. He wasn't the only one who drew in a breath, recognizing the new arrival's way of moving, his casual grace, or the bright yellow hair revealed as he threw back a cloak's hood.
"Rasim!" Lorens's voice barely carried across the distance without skymastery to enhance it. He waved cheerfully, though, as if nothing was wrong. "God's blood, Rasim," he bellowed. Even at the distance, Rasim caught a glimpse of his breath puffing steam into the air. "What are we fighting for?"
A genuine, baffled silence fell across the Waifia's deck, Ilyarans exchanging glances with each other as if they'd somehow mistaken the catastrophic blows that their ship had sustained. After a moment Rasim yelled, "You started it!" back at Lorens, and Nasira put her hand over her face.
"We were only practicing!" Lorens shouted. "There's not usually anything to hit out on the ocean!"
"Right," Nasira said beneath her breath, as if the Northern prince would otherwise be able to hear her, "so you just happened to land four crippling blows in a row on my ship accidentally?" Anger puffed her breath on the air, a cloud that formed and dissipated just as quickly.
Rasim, uncertainly, said, "They'd have had a hard time seeing us in the distance. The Waifia is taller than they are and we had to swarm the mast to see them on the horizon."
Nasira fixed him with a glare. "So they just happened to land four crippling blows in a row on my ship accidentally?" Rasim shrank under the question and Nasira turned her attention back to Lorens, hollering, "After disappearing from Shenryal without an explanation?"
"How long did it take you to leave, once you decided you were going to?" Lorens yelled back. Nasira's mouth twitched with acknowledgment as the Northern prince kept shouting. "I slipped out without fanfare when I knew Rasim was safe because I'd still be there saying goodbye otherwise!"
It sounded so reasonable. "I don't believe it," Rasim said, still uncertainly. "But how did they know where to aim?"
"It's a big ocean, Sunburn," Desimi muttered. He'd slumped against the hold wall, head lowered to his knees in exhaustion. Kisia sat beside him and leaned heavily against his side. They both shivered, as if cold as well as tired. "They could've gotten a scout ship close enough to see we were here and backed off before we noticed."
Lorens shouted, "Rasim? Are we still friends?" across the water.
Rasim glowered at him, probably uselessly given the distance, and didn't answer. Nasira said, "He is getting craftier," probably about Desimi and not Lorens, but left it there. "Arrat, if you would? What are you doing out here, Lorens?" Her voice lifted with sky witchery, and Lorens visibly spoke in a normal tone, then sighed and yelled back.
"You brought a Moranese army down on yourselves and your fleet is destroyed! I thought I'd come help, but if you'd prefer we sailed north again…" He shrugged theatrically enough to be seen across the water. "What are you doing here? This is not on your way home!"
"Plausible," Nasira muttered. "It's plausible, Rasim. He's behaved like an ally."
"Someone taught Qyacha earth witchery." Rasim didn't even know which side he was arguing anymore, and clearly, neither did his captain, who snapped, "We have no proof it's Lorens! And what little witchery we know the Northerners have has been ice, not earth or—"
"Lightning?" Rasim demanded. "He just admitted they have lightning witchery, Captain! They were 'practicing!'"
"Who taught you lightning witchery?" Nasira yelled, then looked embarrassed as Arrat carried the words at full volume and made the distant Northern prince jerk backward in surprise.
Then exasperation crossed his face. "Can I not come aboard, Captain? This is absurd!"
"They probably won't sink us if he's aboard," Kisia said into Desimi's shoulder. She'd tucked her hands under his arm and was shivering again, like she'd caught the same mortal chill that afflicted Hassin. Rasim felt it too, a bone-deep cold that had disappeared briefly when they'd surfaced, but which was settling in again. At least the Waifia was floating now, enough repairs made to the holes in her side that they weren't in much danger of taking on water. The cracked keel groaned, though, and Rasim didn't know how they were going to fix that. It wasn't broken, but neither was it whole, and there was no Ilyaran magic to shape it into strength again.
