The Lost Hero: Chapter 21

Two days into their return voyage, the cry went up. “To your posts!”

The pounding of feet and creak of wood overhead signaled the crew racing to their places. Juen followed the shouts up to the deck.

“What is it?”

“Raiders!”

The schooner, the Dancer, lived up to her name. She was slender and quick. Turned with the wind, she flew over the waves, away from the oncoming ship.

Juen knew little of sailing, but saw the larger vessel bearing down on them, two masts to their one, stretches of canvas taut in the wind.

“Can we outrun them?” she asked.

Penth shook his head, mouth grim.

Her men gathered on the deck, bows strung and ready. She turned to the wind, squinting against the glint of sun and the spray.

“Are they Luksan?” That made no sense. Why parlay with her, then chase them down only days later?

“Maybe,” Penth said shortly. “Sometimes they join the raider crews.”

So, she would die here? Her people’s future lost to a cold grave in the sea? Her simmering frustration bubbled in her chest. The intervening days had not lessoned it, instead festering as she tried to find a way to hope.

She had sought the Goddesses’ counsel hour after hour, pacing the deck, on her knees until they ached. Nothing. Only uneasy murmurings, warnings of caution. Where were They when she needed Them most?

What would he do in this situation? Likely, something reckless and utterly insane.

“Come about.”

“What?” Penth demanded, eyes busy on his crews’ work.

“Tack to meet them. Surrender.”

“Absolutely not! This ship is my livelihood! They’ll slaughter us!”

“You will keep your ship.” She didn’t recognize her voice, confident and steely with purpose. “Come about, captain. Now.”

“Are you mad?” Sorrint snapped. She knew then this was the right course.

“I will not be cowed. We will meet them.”

“Juen—”

She had had enough of his insubordination. “Lieutenant! Arm the Watch!”

He snapped his mouth shut, taken aback. “Yes, ma’am,” he ground out.

“You can’t make me—” Penth scowled as she turned to him, hand on her sword.

“You will, or you will lose more than your ship, captain.”

Their progress slowed at once, turned into the wind. The other ship leapt forward, guns out. But it, too, hesitated, maybe surprised at the sudden change of attitude of the smaller ship.

The ocean yawned hungrily below her. Davin had dunked her in a lake in full kit. She’d managed three minutes of frantic treading before the weight pulled her under. She ignored the threat and stood on the railing, her braids whipping around her face.

The other ship kept its distance. The glint of spyglasses showed her presence had been marked.

Five, ten minutes passed, the Dancer making no effort to flee, the pirates standing out of range off starboard.

Someone dove over the side of the other ship. Juen tracked their progress through the water and was not surprised as they burst from the waves and landed on the deck in a graceful leap.

The Luksan was easily eight feet tall. It unfolded its sinewy limbs and stood dripping on the deck.