Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(20)

“I anticipate this will be a long-term engagement, if not permanent,” Destin said. He made a show of pulling out his pocket watch. “Now. I’m not paying this man to talk. You’ll need to continue your conversation later.”

“Don’t worry,” Kadar snarled. “I will.”

Evan swung down from the rigging, and they watched, side by side, as Kadar stalked away.

“Well, he’s pissed again,” Evan said.

“Do you think so?” Destin said, as if unimpressed.

“His thugs will be back tonight,” Evan said. “We’ll have to sleep on board.”

“For one night, maybe.”

“He’s ruthless.”

“I’m ruthless,” Destin said.

Evan cleared his throat, avoiding Destin’s eyes. “I’d prefer not to use magery,” he said. “It might draw attention we don’t want.” He meant from the empress, though he knew by now that Destin and Frances were on the run as well.

“Never fear,” Destin said. “We’re not just mages. We are engineers.”

In late afternoon, Evan left off working and strolled down to the fish market. After haggling with one of the dragnetters, he came away with an entire basketful of purchases. In the meantime, Destin did his shopping at the city market. Once darkness fell, the two of them met on the pier next to their ship and spent the next hours making ready. Their work finished, they returned to their ship to wait.

Just after the moon had set, a crowd of men gathered at the gate to the pier where the ketch was moored. They were muffled in cloaks and carried axes and clubs. Several were carrying torches, maybe in case something needed to be set on fire. Their leader cut through the lock on the gate and they swarmed through. They hadn’t gone more than a few steps farther when there was a snicking sound and the men in the lead began screaming. With that, the entire section of the dock collapsed into the water.

Evan and Destin were sharing a late supper on the quarterdeck, sitting next to the rail, positioned so that they could look down at the pier.

“They found the dragon traps,” Destin said, sipping his cider. “And the trip wires.”

“Let’s see if that stops them.”

“I think it’s fair to say that the ones that found the dragon traps won’t be coming aboard tonight,” Destin said, his voice cool and matter-of-fact. “They’re already at the bottom of the harbor.”

Evan shifted his weight. He suspected he knew some of the men in the water. Most of Kadar’s enforcers were mean as badgers, though. “Should we . . . do something to help them?”

Destin shook his head, his lips quirking in amusement. “If our positions were reversed, what do you think they would do?” he said. “Let’s see if their colleagues help them out.”

Below, men were still thrashing in the water next to the pier. But some had swum to the dock and were climbing up the pilings. Spitting like cats, they hauled themselves up onto the planking on the shore side of the gap. One man lay groaning on the dock, gushing blood, his left leg gone below the knee.

Evan’s stomach flipped. He’d seen his share of bloodshed while crewing for Strangward, but always at a distance. Now he’d been two years away from it, and it seemed that his thick skin had been sandpapered away.

Destin surveyed the scene, eyes narrowed, as if tallying up the score in a game of nicks and bones. When he looked up and saw Evan’s stricken expression, he grunted. “This is what it takes to survive, Pirate. These are the stakes in the game we’re playing.”

By the time everyone who hadn’t drowned was out of the water, there were only six men milling about, soaked and unhappy, from the swearing that was going on. None of them went back into the water to look for the missing. Nobody seemed particularly eager to continue the mission, either.

Finally, one of them raised his club and shouted, “Come on, boys. Let’s break her up.”

They split up, each man claiming one of the hawsers. The first man gripped the line and began to climb; but, halfway up, he shrieked and let go, flailing, and dropping back onto the dock with a bloodcurdling crunch. Two more ended up back in the water, screaming in pain.

“What’s that called again?” Destin peered through the railing, surveying the chaos below.

“Sea nettle,” Evan said. “It’s a kind of jellyfish. The tentacles deliver a really nasty sting, even days after they are detached. Some of the healers use them, but personally, I’d rather die.”

The dockside raiders had seen enough. Collecting their wounded, they stampeded back up the pier and disappeared into the twisty streets surrounding the harbor.

“Ruthless,” Destin said, raising his glass.

“Ruthless,” Evan said, and drank deeply, his mind in turmoil. He’d been on his own since he was a ten-year, and nobody would describe his life on the harbor front as sheltered. But he felt like a temple novice next to Destin Karn. Evan didn’t know his story—not yet, anyway—but clearly the wetland soldier had lessons to teach him about survival in a brutal world.

Was that what made the soldier so attractive—the sense that nothing was off the table?

There was one more attempt on the ketch, which they repelled once again. That same night, the newly refurbished New Moon caught fire and burned to the waterline. The next morning, Evan and Destin walked down the quay to where Kadar stood glaring at the smoking hull.