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  While all this had been happening, bowmen soldiers had flooded the main deck and lined the port rail. Captain Alpress paced behind the King’s Guard, shouting orders to ready their bows.

  “Take command, Master Bussie,” Captain Livina said, walking toward the stairs to the main deck.

  “I’ve got the deck,” Bussie said.

  Trevn chased after the captain, following him to the main deck and the line of soldiers.

  “Captain Alpress!” Livina yelled. “Order your men to lower their weapons at once.”

  “Why would I do that, Captain?”

  “Because I command it, and the safety of this ship outranks your desire to hunt.”

  “That beast is killing people, or can’t you see that?”

  “Fire one arrow at the serpent and you lure it to us. I have experience with these beasts and know their minds. Trying to kill one is suicide. Now order your men to stand down!”

  Alpress set his jaw and glared at the captain.

  “Stand down, Captain Alpress!” Wilek had joined them, and he did not look happy. “Any man who fires at the serpent will face the pole.”

  Captain Alpress gave the order for the soldiers to lower their bows. The Seffynaw closed on the Berith, listing slightly as nearly everyone on deck lined the starboard rail for a view. Shouts, screams, and splashing rang clear across the water, accompanied by low moans from the serpent. Soldiers on the Berith had already engaged in war against the creature. A shower of arrows rained down almost continually, but most of them glanced off the creature’s thick skin. Perhaps one in fifty stuck, and when this happened, the creature howled and thrashed, knocking into the sinking ship and breaking her further.

  The serpent suddenly rose out of the sea, its neck like that of a giant eel. It slithered onto the Berith’s main deck and curled around the mainmast, knocking people aside as it went. Its front legs appeared—no, those were tentacles. They clutched the starboard rail just as its head turned back for the water. Its weight and its hold on the mast pulled the ship down. Men dove into the water moments before the Berith went under completely.

  The Seffynaw passed by all this in relative silence, broken by a few whispers and murmurs of horror. Trevn couldn’t believe how quickly the Berith had gone under. He imagined the creature dragging the entire ship all the way down to the sandy ocean floor where—

  Something shot out of the ocean, spraying a salty gush of water over the starboard side of the Seffynaw. The cold water drenched Trevn, but he ignored it, shocked to see that the Berith had bobbed to the surface. It still lay on its side. Water ran off its hull. Trevn heard a man sputtering and coughing somewhere but could not see him.

  A chorus of screams rang out from the Seffynaw, pulling Trevn’s gaze to the front of the ship. The serpent was again moving toward the Berith, gliding on the top of the water like an arrow, sending hundreds of ripples spiraling like ribbons in its wake. This time Trevn could see its face. It had three deep-set black eyes and a maw of tangled, needlelike teeth. Instead of ramming the Berith, it dove over the top, rolling the ship with its movement. Trevn stared in awe as its full body curled out of the ocean. Slimy and scaled like a giant fish, yet its back end was made of five tentacles. The first tentacle grabbed hold of the Berith’s bow. The second coiled around the mast. But the other three tentacles inadvertently lashed out at the Seffynaw.

  One struck the hull below the waterline, jolting the entire ship. Another raked the freeboard, tearing a jagged line through the bulkhead of the main foredeck. When it reached the open waist, it got caught in the platform of rope harpings. This triggered the beast to pull away, which ripped the harpings off the entire front of the starboard side. Its third tentacle shot up to help, scraping along the main deck and knocking onlookers into the water like a giant hand wiping crumbs from a table. People screamed. The Seffynaw lurched to starboard under the serpent’s weight. The creature was still occupied with its attack on the Berith and seemed only mildly annoyed that one of its tentacles was caught.

  “Cut the harpings!” Captain Livina screamed.

  Trevn sprinted toward the steps and pushed his way through the crowd, pulling his boot knife as he went. He arrived at the same time as Nietz, Bonds, Zaki, and a half dozen men he recognized from the Port Watch. He sawed at one of the harpings that had pinched itself into the slimy flesh of the serpent’s tentacle. His blade suddenly seemed quite small when set against the task of cutting so many ropes.

  “We need swords!” Bonds yelled.

  “You need only cut the ropes around the tentacle,” Nietz said firmly. “One by one, men, and keep your heads.”

  The Seffynaw had already begun to twist in the water, caught as they were with the creature in light of their previous momentum. Captain Livina shouted orders at the men in the rigging to change the sails to compensate.

  There must have been two hundred ropes tangled around that tentacle, and the beast shook the Seffynaw a few more times as it tried to pull away. Trevn sawed ropes until his hand felt numb, then all of a sudden the ship jolted upright and the tentacle slithered away.

  The men cheered. Someone clapped Trevn on the back. The Seffynaw glided slowly onward. And Trevn looked over the broken rail at the people in the water.

  “Lower a dinghy!” he yelled, shoving his way through the crowd back to the quarterdeck. The main boat fall was at the forecastle, but there was a lesser-used one at the stern. Trevn ran up to the quarterdeck and all the way to the stern. Dozens of people came along, nearly trampling one another in their attempt to keep the wreckage of the Berith in sight.

  Trevn found Captain Livina at the stern rail, watching a dinghy row to pick up survivors. There were two soldiers in the craft and they had already rescued three people. But a second serpent had arrived and was picking off swimmers. Each time the creature struck, several women around Trevn screamed. He felt helpless to do anything but pray that Arman would spare as many as possible.

  He and Livina stood together, looking back on the carnage and the sinking Berith, which was now difficult to see since the Rafayah had followed the Seffynaw around it. The last Trevn saw before the Berith sank beneath the water was a serpent swallowing a man who’d been swimming toward a broken yard.

  The Idez, which trailed the Rafayah, fired upon the first serpent. The creature turned away from the scattered swimmers and rammed a hole into the ship’s side. The Idez’s mast heeled critically to starboard.

  “Can the Idez recover?” Trevn asked the captain.

  “It could, but only if they stop attacking. Not every captain knows better than to engage a sea serpent. Opening fire might seem like the right thing to do, but it’s usually a fatal move. I am thankful Sâr Wilek backed up my order.”

  “Are serpents impossible to kill?” Trevn asked.

  “Not impossible. But you see how one took down a ship, attacked a second, and doesn’t look all that wounded. If we let them, the pair will do much more damage to the fleet before they die. I will have the signalmen send a message through the flags to warn the other captains not to attack.”

  “We will need to find a new warship to sail before us,” Trevn said, thinking back on his lesson with the admiral.

  “Hopefully not a galley,” the captain said. “Oar piercings are a hazard so far from the coast. Did you see why?”

  “They let in water and the freeboard went under,” Trevn said. “Closer to land the men could probably swim to shore, and if the ship doesn’t sink too quickly, there might be time to beach it for repairs.”

  “But not out in the deep,” the captain said, finishing Trevn’s thought. “Let us hope the admiral chooses a sailing ship to lead us from now on, and that this is the last we will see of any serpents.”

  “Did the Duke of Tal find you, Captain?” Trevn asked, remembering the admiral’s arrest.

  “He said Sâr Wilek wished to speak with me, but the lookouts spotted the serpents before I could report. Is something wrong?”

  “Admiral Vendal h
as been relieved of his duties,” Trevn said. “I believe you are about to be promoted.”

  Hinck

  Hinck made his way to the stern, wondering if this was the best idea. All day long the brand on his shoulder had itched, and though he tried his best to ignore it, he knew the likely cause. Oli had confirmed his worst fears.

  “It’s a summons from Moon Fang. There will be a meeting tonight,” Oli had said, “And you shouldn’t go.”

  Hinck didn’t want to go. It was the last thing he wanted to do . . . but it was also his best hope of learning what the cult had planned. Not appearing could be just as dangerous. So with Oli’s help they fashioned a rough mask and sent Hinck on his way.

  Oli’s final words resounded in Hinck’s mind. “Whatever happens, don’t take evenroot. Once you get addicted, it’s near impossible to stop, plus you’d have to give your soul to a shadir to be healed.”

  As if he needed the reminder.

  Hinck descended to the hold, wandering the crossways and lengthways until he spotted a lone guard wearing a helmet and sitting on a crate before a compartment door. “Who comes this way?”

  Hinck wasn’t sure how to answer. Was this a normal guard, seeking a place of solitude? Or was this one of the Lahavôtesh? “I seek the Sanctum of Mysteries,” he tried.

  The guard stood and opened the door. “You have found it.”

  Simple enough so far. He only hoped his hunch that there was no evenroot was true. Because if he were wrong, he did not know how he would manage to refuse the milk of Gâzar in such small company.

  He stepped past the guard and inside the compartment. At first he saw nothing but a lone oil lamp sitting on the floor. By the time the guard closed the door behind him, the compartment had come into focus. Hunched over as he was, he could not have expected anything as foreboding or grand as the chamber underneath Canden House. Yet there was no altar here at all. Nothing but a circle of masked folk sitting on crates and barrels around the lantern. He quickly counted eight in the room besides himself. Three were women. As was the custom, all wore black.

  “Come in and join the boredom!” a man said. His voice, while somewhat mad, was slightly familiar. He wore a red mask that was painted to look like drops of water.

  Hinck perched on the end of a vacant crate. The group sat in near silence for far too long. Hinck grew fidgety and stiff but forced himself to remain still, not wanting all those masked faces fixated on him again. Since he had been the newest initiate at their last gathering, everyone probably knew exactly who he was.

  “He is not coming,” said a woman in a white mask with golden leaves.

  “He might still.” This from another woman, whose mask was covered in swirls of blue and yellow paint.

  “I told you he wouldn’t,” said the man in red. Fonu, Hinck realized with a jolt. Now that he was speaking without yelling, the voice was unmistakable. “He has abandoned us. After all we’ve done for him. Cast aside like dull blades.”

  “Dull blades can be sharpened, Red Ream,” a man said. His mask was dark blue with a jagged lightning bolt cutting across it.

  Fonu glared at Hinck. “Why bother sharpening when you can pick new blades whenever you please. What kind of a mask is that, anyway, Hinckdan?”

  “No names!” said the woman with the white-and-gold mask.

  “What does it matter?” Fonu reached to the man beside him—whose mask was a yellow sun—and ripped it off. It was Sir Garn, the emissary from Rurekau. The henna tracings on the sides of his neck looked like dirt in the low light.

  “How dare you!” he cried.

  Fonu pulled off his own mask. “There is no longer a point in secrecy,” he said, his face shining with sweat. “We must know who we are if we are to know whom to trust.”

  “And we should trust you?” said the third woman, whose mask had pink and white flowers on a green background.

  “Janek has abandoned us,” Fonu said. “He would let each and every one of us hang if it meant saving himself. We must decide what to do apart from him.”

  The woman with a blue-and-yellow mask removed it. It was Lady Mattenelle! “Fonu is right. Sâr Janek does not serve the King of Magic. He serves only himself.”

  “I too have witnessed this.” And the man with a black-and-gold mask took it off. Kamran DanSâr.

  A dune cat mask went down to reveal Canbek Faluk, Hinck’s uncle. Hinck knew the man had always been corrupt, but to see him here, a part of this group, it shocked him.

  “Moon Fang has made himself king of Sarikar,” Uncle Canbek said.

  “Everyone knows that already.” The woman in the white-and-gold mask removed it. The Honored Lady Zenobia, longtime concubine of Rosâr Echad, mother to Kamran.

  With the removal of her mask, the last two in the room took off theirs. The lightning-bolt mask had belonged to Janek’s shield, Sir Jayron, and the pink and white flowers on green had masked Rosâr Echad’s newest mistress, the actress Lilou Caridod.

  Hinck saw no reason to keep his mask on. He loosed the ties and pulled it into his lap, keeping his gaze on the lantern.

  “Because of Sâr Janek’s unpredictability, Moon Fang married Lady Eudora so he himself could lay claim to the Armanian throne,” Lady Zenobia said.

  Hinck still couldn’t understand why Eudora would have married the old man. It seemed so unlike her. He reminded himself he didn’t care for Eudora anymore. She was not nearly as mysterious as Lady Pia, not that Hinck would allow himself to develop feelings for the concubine either, since she belonged to Janek.

  Fonu voiced the very question Hinck wanted to know. “Why would Eudora have married an old man? It was no secret she never wanted to be queen. Never wanted to marry at all.”

  “I imagine she changed her mind when she realized it was the only way to overthrow the rosâr and his Heir,” Zenobia said.

  “More like her mother forced her,” Fonu mumbled.

  “There is more,” Zenobia said. “My shadir tells me that Moon Fang has commanded us to sink this boat.”

  “Sink the boat?” Canbek cried.

  “The serpent nearly did that yesterday,” Kamran said. “They’re still patching up the bulkheads on the main deck.”

  “He asks us to drown ourselves?” Sir Garn asked. “Is he mad?”

  “He wants us to escape first, of course,” Zenobia said. “But with everyone else dead, succession of the Armanian throne would pass through Eudora to her firstborn son. As her consort and the child’s father, Moon Fang could then claim rule of both Sarikar and Armania.”

  Hinck couldn’t help it this time. “Lady Eudora is expecting a child?”

  “Not yet,” Zenobia said. “But soon.”

  Hinck fought back a shiver of revulsion. Rogedoth was old enough to be Eudora’s grandfather! What was she thinking? Could Fonu be right? Had Eudora been forced into this?

  “What about Janek?” Fonu asked. “We can’t let Janek drown.”

  “Moon Fang says if he is not for us, he is against,” Zenobia said.

  Everyone began talking at once.

  “I didn’t agree to any of this,” Fonu said. “The man would truly kill his own grandson? He’s insane.”

  “Rosârah Laviel would never approve of her son’s death,” Mattenelle said. “And I agree with Fonu that Eudora would not marry Moon Fang of her own free will. He must have used his powers against her. Maybe against Rosârah Laviel and Sârah Jemesha, as well.”

  Sârah Jemesha was King Echad’s sister and Oli and Eudora’s mother. Apparently she was on whatever ship Rogedoth, Laviel, and Eudora were on.

  “How much root did he have stored on that boat of his?” Kamran asked.

  “Plenty,” Zenobia said.

  “Then why won’t he share some with us?” Kamran asked.

  “Who cares about that?” Lilou Caridod asked. “What shall we do?”

  “I just don’t see how any of this matters right now,” Fonu said. “We should focus on finding land first, then worry about who will rule.”<
br />
  This was one of the smartest things Hinck had ever heard Fonu say.

  “It would be easier if Sâr Janek had not abandoned us,” Lilou said. “We could use his counsel.”

  “The dungeon scared him pretty badly,” Mattenelle said. “He doesn’t want to do anything to endanger himself until he is on solid ground with a force of soldiers loyal to him.”

  Hinck decided to speak up. “I don’t understand Roge—Moon Fang’s plan. Even if we sank the boat, and even if we reverted to right of first blood, succession wouldn’t pass to Eudora. Emperor Ulrik ranks under Trevn. And Prince Ferro after him. Then Oli. Then Eudora.” Then Hinck.

  “If Rosâr Echad and half his family are dead, no one will care about right of first blood,” Uncle Canbek said. “Whoever takes power will rule this weak nation, and if Sâr Wilek and Sâr Trevn are dead, Moon Fang can do whatever he wants.”

  “He is working a separate plot to take control of the Rurekan flagship,” Lady Zenobia said to Hinck. “And the Duke of Canden would go down with the Seffynaw. That would leave Eudora next in line.”

  “Oli too?” Fonu said. “You realize he is asking me to murder my two closest friends?”

  “They both abandoned you, Fonu,” Kamran said. “You have no friends but us.”

  “How does one sink a great ship, anyway?” Uncle Canbek asked.

  “Compel a serpent,” Fonu said.

  “Does anyone have any evenroot?” Sir Garn asked.

  “I don’t,” Uncle Canbek said.

  The others echoed him.

  “What about the Magonian’s root Sâr Janek was looking for?” Sir Garn asked.

  “Gone,” Kamran said. “The Order of the Sandvine has yet to locate any root, despite that being our true purpose.”

  “How can we sink the ship without magic?” Lady Mattenelle asked.