Into the Wind (31 page)

In the midst of all the chaos, Seria smiled calmly and pulled the trigger. Taren saw the spark and smelled the pungent odor of gunpowder as he lunged for Seria, but the weapon discharged before he could knock it out of Seria’s hand. Someone fell to the deck, shirt stained with blood.

“Ian!” Taren ran to the injured man. But it was not Ian on the deck, his chest covered in blood. It was Rider.

Out of the corner of his eye, Taren saw Seria and his men jump into the water as a dozen men from the just-arrived ship—the
Chimera
, Taren realized—charged forward. Barra hesitated, then ran after Seria and the others.

I
AN
KNEELED
and pressed his shaking hands to the wound on Rider’s chest as he struggled to calm his racing heart.
Goddess! No.
Human as Rider was, even a ship’s surgeon could do nothing. Ian felt Rider’s heart slow beneath his palm, saw the color flee from his cheeks, saw the light begin to fade from his eyes.

Ian had been ready to die when Seria aimed his pistol. From such a close distance, Ian knew there’d be no transformation to save him. He’d regretted only that he’d been unable to protect Taren, that he’d failed the goddess and his people. He’d given up too easily. Rider had won their freedom.
But at what cost?

Taren was at his side a moment later, taking his place, his hands glowing as he struggled to heal Rider’s wound. The look of horror that twisted Taren’s face as he fought to concentrate told Ian that Taren, too, knew there was little to be done. In spite of this, Ian’s heart swelled to see Taren’s calm resolve as he worked to save Rider.

“Damn fool,” Ian muttered under his breath. “Taking the bullet in my stead.”
How will I ever repay my debt to you, old friend?

Ian studied Taren’s youthful face, then looked at Rider’s and remembered when they, too, had been as young. Together, he and Rider had shared so many dreams. In Rider’s arms, Ian had felt happy. Accepted. After living so long without being able to share his true nature with anyone but his parents, Ian thrilled to know that a human knew his secret. Even now, Ian remembered how they’d swam together in a secluded cove not far from Raice Harbor—Ian in his Ea form, Rider holding on to his waist as Ian sped through the water and dove while Rider held his breath. Later, they’d made love in the shade of the trees and talked about their future together aboard a great sailing ship. They’d had so many dreams… dreams of sailing to the Eastern Lands, of exploring the islands farther beyond, where few humans or Ea had ever traveled.

Beautiful dreams I will cherish always, Jonat.

Ian clenched his jaw and struggled to master his emotions. The danger was ever present. Seria and the others would regroup and return to finish what they’d started. He would need to be strong and rally Rider’s crew. They would need his help to survive another battle with the Council’s ships.

“Let me through!” Bastian pushed the men surrounding Rider aside and dropped to his knees. “No,” he whispered. “Gods, no!”

Rider’s eyes fluttered open. “Leave it be, boy,” he told Taren. “No magic will heal this wound.”

Taren hesitated, but Ian nodded and Taren withdrew. Ian wrapped his arms around Taren’s body not because he knew Taren needed to feel his presence, but because
he
needed to feel Taren.

“No. You must heal him.” Bastian’s face was tear-streaked, his eyes wide.

“Time to let go, love,” Rider said in a low voice. “We’ve had our run of good luck.”

“No.” Bastian’s shoulders shook and his voice quavered. He laid his head on Rider’s chest, heedless of the blood.

“Take care of them both for me,” Rider told Ian.

“Aye.” Ian’s tears fell as the last of his resolve crumbled beneath the weight of his grief. He’d had few friends in his life. The price of command, no doubt. But Rider had been there for him time and again. Infuriating, frustrating, kind, and caring, Rider had become someone Ian depended upon and loved like a brother.

“Kiss me, love,” Rider said as his gaze flickered back to Bastian’s. “And take good care of my ship.”

Bastian leaned over Rider as Rider’s eyes closed once more. The wind had died, replaced now by a steady rain. Taren’s tears mingled with droplets of water as Bastian wept on Rider’s now still chest.

Taren leaned against Ian, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders from behind.

Goddess, protect his soul.

Twenty-Nine

B
UT
FOR
the sound of the rain as it hit the deck, the
Sea Witch
was eerily silent. Taren looked down at his hands. The water had begun to wash them clean, but Taren could still smell the bite of gunpowder and the tang of Rider’s blood there. He rubbed his face with his arm and struggled not to lose control of his emotions.

“The ship’s secure, sir,” Fiall said as he made his way through the crowd that had gathered. He gasped and covered his mouth when he saw Rider’s body, then shook his head. “No. He’s not….”

Taren wiped his hands on his britches, stood up, and put a hand on Fiall’s tense shoulder. At the edge of the crowd stood Odhrán, flanked by James and another human crewmember. Odhrán inclined his head as he removed his hat and set it over his heart in a gesture of respect.

Bastian’s sobs grew softer, though his body still shook with anguish. After a few more minutes, he stood silently and looked around him. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, as if he couldn’t see all the people who surrounded him. The men parted to allow him to pass. Taren followed, unsure what to do.

When he reached the bowsprit, Bastian raised his hands skyward as if to beseech the heavens for understanding. Taren made to comfort Bastian, but Ian, who had followed as well, held him back. “Let him grieve in his own way.”

Taren nodded. He could hardly bear the thought that it could have been Ian who died. Shot from such a close distance, Ian wouldn’t have survived long enough to transform. Taren closed his eyes and willed away the memory of Owyn’s death, a memory that seemed to entwine with Taren’s deep pain over the loss of Rider, the man who had rescued Taren from a life of slavery and guided him to manhood.

Bastian cried out, causing Taren to open his eyes again. The rain fell in thick droplets onto Bastian’s outstretched arms. The droplets hissed as they touched Bastian’s body, causing white steam to rise from his skin and clothing. Confused and fascinated, Taren continued to stare. Bastian’s figure was outlined in a haze of reddish light. Taren blinked to clear his vision, but the image did not change.

“What…?” Taren whispered as he wiped his face.

The first of the flames leapt from Bastian’s arms as Taren moved to comfort him. In spite of this—for Taren was sure he was imagining what he saw—Taren reached out to touch Bastian. In response, Ian pulled Taren back with such force that he nearly fell. Taren was just about to protest when he saw he’d not imagined it: Bastian was on fire.

“Bastian!” Taren shouted.

“Taren?” Bastian’s voice sounded strange, gravelly. He stared at his arms in obvious shock, moving them as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “What…?”

“Bastian!” Taren struggled against Ian’s iron grip. “Ian, let me g—”

“Look again,” Ian said, his voice calm in Taren’s ear.

Taren stopped fighting and did as Ian bid him. But what he saw, he struggled to understand. Flames licked Bastian’s body, but he was unmarred. Even his clothes, though bloodstained and ragged, were intact.

“I don’t understand,” Bastian said. “What is this magic? What is happening to me?” Bastian’s eyes, usually a bright green, were now a swirling mix of yellow, orange, and red, like a sunset, with black irises that appeared more like a reptile’s than a human’s. But it wasn’t just his eyes that had changed. The freckles on his cheeks seemed to vanish and reform in a pattern that reminded Taren of stepping stones, each fitted tightly together. “Taren?” he said again, as if hoping that Taren might be able to explain what had happened to him. “I can’t stop it. I don’t understand. Please, Taren. It hurts! Gods, it hurts!”

The flames now rose nearly as high as the topsails, and unlike Bastian or his clothing, the canvas began to burn. Bastian’s body, too, had begun to change. From his back, small appendages appeared and grew into wings with thick feathers that matched the brilliance of Bastian’s red hair. His arms and legs grew thicker and his torso lengthened until he stood tall enough to reach the top of the foremast. His face had lengthened, his nose becoming a snout. Nearly five times the size of a man, Bastian no longer appeared human. One of the railings cracked beneath the weight of his tail, and the ship shook as he spread his long wings and took to the air.

Throughout all this, Taren barely heard the shouts and cries of the men aboard the
Witch
who scurried about, clearly terrified of the creature Bastian had become. “Ian, he needs my help,” Taren moaned as he fought Ian once more. The smoke burned his eyes and nose. His gut clenched and he tightened his grip on Ian’s forearms.

“You cannot help him. You see what the flames have done to the ship.” Ian pressed his cheek to Taren’s. Behind Ian, Odhrán shouted commands to the crew to lower the remaining sails and protect them from the spreading flames.

The dragon let out a howling roar that made Taren shiver. Could everyone hear the pain in that sound as well as he? Bastian rose higher above the ships and roared again, this time shooting flames at one of the enemy ships as he screamed. The ship’s upper sails caught fire. A moment later, the second enemy ship was fully ablaze. The rain, which still continued to fall, did nothing to dampen the flames. Men and Ea jumped into the water, their shouts barely audible over the dragon’s shrieks.

Bastian turned back to the
Sea Witch
and began to descend.

“What’s the status of the rudder?” Ian shouted over the din.

“It’s gone, sir,” Fiall said without emotion. “And with the foresails gone….” Taren knew they were dead in the water without the sails or the rudder.

Why? Why would you harm the ship you love so much, Bastian?
Taren knew the answer: the thoughts and memories that had been Bastian’s were gone. The dragon knew nothing of the
Sea Witch
or the men aboard it, nothing of the acceptance and friendship he’d found aboard her or of the grief those men now felt. The dragon only knew that Rider was dead. Perhaps he even believed the crew had brought about his beloved Rider’s death. Taren sensed nothing of Bastian in the dragon now; he only sensed rage.

“Get the crew into the launches,” Ian ordered.

“Aye, sir!” Fiall ran toward the wheel, shouting commands as he went.

“James,” Odhrán said, “get the men back to the
Chimera
. The enchantments should protect her for a short time. Pick up as many of the men as you can. Tell the Ea to find any men who may have ended up in the water.”

“And you, sir?” James asked, his concern apparent.

“I’ll be fine here. We’ll rejoin the ship once we’ve managed to….” Odhrán caught Taren’s eye and clenched his jaw.

“Once you’ve managed to what?” Taren demanded. “Kill him?”

“Taren,” Odhrán replied, “he’s not in his right mind. You yourself can sense this. He believes
we
are his enemy, that we killed his lover.”

“But there must be something we can do to help him.” Even as he spoke these words, Taren knew it was hopeless.

“We can’t help him now. We must save ourselves. Water does nothing against the magic of his flames. Even with its enchantments, my ship will not last long against it. Even if the Ea can swim away, I won’t allow the humans in my crew to perish.”

“You don’t think Bastian would—” Taren began, but his answer came all too soon as Bastian breathed fire and set the mainsails ablaze. Taren ignored Ian and Odhrán’s shouts of warning as he ran toward Bastian.

“Bastian!” Taren shouted. Bastian swooped low over the
Sea Witch
and the sails on the mizzen caught fire. A moment later Bastian turned and headed toward the
Chimera
.

From where he stood, Taren saw the men climbing up ropes to safety aboard the ship. “Bastian, no!”

“Get back!” Odhrán ran past Taren and looked out over the water. Taren watched in astonishment as the water rose to meet Odhrán’s outstretched hand. Odhrán swung his arm toward the burning sails and the water followed the arc of his movement, hitting the canvas. He repeated the movement until the flames spluttered momentarily, but they roared back to life an instant later, burning even hotter than before.

Distracted from his target, Bastian turned back to the
Sea Witch
. His entire body was now aflame.

“Get off the ship!” Odhrán shouted. “I’ll meet you aboard the
Chimera
.”

“No. He’s in pain. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. If I can only—” Taren’s words were cut short as several of the yardarms fell to the deck with a sound like thunder. “Bastian! Goddess, Bastian! Stop!”

Bastian screamed again and unleashed yet another barrage of fire, this time directly at them. Before either Taren or Ian could react, Odhrán waved his arms, which were covered in blue light. Water rose in an arc from the waves and froze as a solid wall between them and the flames. Instead of the heat of the fire, warm water rained down on them as the ice melted, shielding them.