The Destruction of the Books (19 page)

A shimmering wave of force smashed into Raisho and knocked him reeling. He flew backward and landed hard enough against the stern castle railing to crack several of the boards.

Ertonomous Dron used his free arm to pull at the net. But the net refused his efforts, becoming increasingly entangled around him.

Three other sailors darted forward, intending to take advantage of the wizard’s weakness. Juhg could have told them—if he could have only spoken through the heavy liquid that gurgled in his lungs—that they were wasting their time. Ertonomous Dron curled his fingers, then snapped them forward. The three sailors jerked back as if pierced by harpoons. Blood gushed from wounds that suddenly opened up on their chests.

“Now,” Ertonomous Dron said, turning his angry attention on Raisho, “now you’re going to—”

“I don’t think so,” Raisho said. The young sailor leaned forward suddenly. A throwing knife magically appeared between his fingers.

For a moment, Juhg thought his friend was going to waste his time and his life by throwing the knife at the wizard. But Raisho whipped his arm away from his foe.

Straight and true, the throwing knife flipped through the air twice and hit the release lever for the stern anchor. Hammered by the strength of the knife throw, the lever jerked back into the unlocked position and chain began paying out from the wheel with loud clanks.

At the same moment, a coil of rope jerked to life between the wizard and Raisho. Captivated by the unfolding events, Juhg watched first in perplexion, then in wide-eyed understanding of the thing that Raisho had done.

One end of the rope was attached to the anchor chain, which pulled the rope down, and the other end was attached to the fishing net. The wizard realized what was going to happen as well and began frantically yanking at the fishnet.

Before he could free himself, the slack in the line disappeared and the rope drew taut. The weight of the anchor and chain yanked him from his feet. He screamed hoarsely, and Juhg thought that was horrible because Ertonomous Dron didn’t sound like a wizard at all, but like an old man afraid of dying.

Scrabbling like a cat falling from a leafy perch in a tree, the wizard flailed for a handhold on the stern castle railing but sailed past it without pause. He followed the chain and the line down into the water, disappearing under the dark gray-green brine.

That was when Juhg realized the spell that the wizard had cast over him had remained in effect. Horrified, he tried to yell for help but couldn’t get his voice to escape the thick sludge in his chest.

Then Raisho was there, leaping toward him and wrapping his arms around the invisible bubble. The young sailor used his weight to propel them to the deck and prevent Juhg from going over the side. The bubble burst, and Juhg wasn’t sure if it was because he’d gone past reach of the wizard’s spell or because the wizard had lost sight of him, things that were both important, according to books on high and low wizardry.

It could also have been because somewhere in the depths Ertonomous Dron met his final doom.

All Juhg knew was that Raisho had saved him from being pulled into the ocean and meeting whatever fate the wizard had met. And he could breathe again. He took a deep draught of air.

“I’ve got ye, bookworm,” Raisho said. “Ye’re safe enough now.”

“I know,” Juhg said. “Thank you.”

Raisho got up and shoved a hand out to help Juhg to his feet.

“Hey, Raisho,” Navin said, wiping blood from a cut on his face. “That were a neat trick with the fishin’ net. Ye shoulda thought of it sooner.”

“Well—” Raisho said, his chest puffing up.

Then a horrendous crash of splitting timbers rent the air.
Blowfly
shuddered and heeled abruptly. Caught by the grappling chains that still bound the two ships,
Windchaser
slammed against the goblinkin ship. More breaking timbers sounded and the deck beneath Juhg’s feet actually split asunder.

“Raisho, ye great lummox!” one of the sailors cried out. “Ye didn’t happen to think about what that there anchor would do when she hit sea bottom, now, did ye?”

Juhg could tell by the look on his friend’s face that Raisho indeed had not thought that far ahead. Not that he faulted the young sailor. His quick thinking had saved several of them from the wizard’s wrath.

But
Blowfly
was utterly doomed.

“Take leave of that ship,” Captain Attikus ordered.

Windchaser
slammed into
Blowfly
again and again. Each collision broke the goblinkin ship to pieces. In the space of a drawn breath,
Blowfly
dropped eight feet as her hold filled with water and the sea drank her down.

A patch of red cloth skidded past Juhg as the deck sharply tilted.
The book!
The realization struck him almost too late to save the mysterious tome from the water lapping over the rear of the stern castle. He ducked down and grabbed the book only inches from the water and shoved it back inside his blouse.

Under Captain Attikus’ urging, the sailors stopped and collected their dead. They ran to the ship’s side and struggled to get them across. That task was made easier—and more dangerous—because
Windchaser
kept banging into the goblinkin ship as both fought against the restraining pull of the anchor.

Raisho paused in the stern long enough to break loose the anchor wheel and cast it over the side to free both ships. But by that time the sailors walking on the midships were swamping through a foot of water and had dropped below
Windchaser
’s deck.

When all the human dead were cleared of the goblin ship and once more back aboard
Windchaser,
Juhg climbed up the rappelling chains. By the time he reached the deck, he was all but done in. Still, he helped stow the grappling chains.

The last of the sailors, Raisho among them, stepped from
Blowfly
while even her stern and prow decks were submerged. For the moment, only the natural buoyancy of the wood and possibly a few air pockets in the hold kept the failing ship afloat.

Windchaser
fought the undertow created by the sinking ship. She’d taken quite a beating as well. With dead sailors in addition to wounded scattered across her deck, she looked like she as well might not survive the encounter.

Captain Attikus, haggard and pale from blood loss and pain, ordered the sails put up again. Staggering fitfully as though she were wounded herself,
Windchaser
slowly pulled away from the sinking goblin ship.

Aloft in the ’yards, handling the sails with the rest of the crew, Juhg felt pain over the loss of so many of the pirate crew. And he felt guilty because his mind wandered again and again to the book in his blouse. What secrets did it hold? And was it worth the lives of so many of his companions and the defenders of Greydawn Moors?

9

An Uncommon Gift

“Is he gonna live?”

Juhg brushed perspiration from his forehead as he worked on the arrow that had pierced Captain Attikus’ upper chest. Raisho knelt at his side, helping with the surgical tools, hot water, and clean towels. Thankfully, the captain slept on his bed in his quarters.

“He’ll live.” Juhg examined the captain’s wound. The broken end of the shaft jutted up from the puncture. “Judging from the placement of the arrow and the fact that the captain’s breath remains free of blood and he’s not coughing any up, I’d say the arrow missed the lung.”

“An’ that’s good.”

“Yes,” Juhg said. “That’s really good. If the arrow had pierced the lung, I wouldn’t be able to save him.”

“If the arrow hit the lung, ye couldn’t save him?”

Juhg shrugged. “I might not be able to save him. There are other ways. It’s just that I’ve never done them.”

“But you’ve done this?”

“Yes. Three times before. Once, I had to take an arrow out of my own leg when I was stranded in the Bleak Marshes. The trick then was not to leave a blood spoor behind so wolphurs could track me.” The memory still sometimes haunted Juhg in the still hours of the night.

“You’ve been in the Bleak Marshes?”

Juhg pressed a thumb against the arrow and found it moved with sufficient force.
Good. The muscles haven’t contracted around it and locked it into place.
Getting the arrow out under those conditions would have been harder, and Attikus would have been laid up longer for recovery.

“Yes. Twice. Neither time because I wanted to go.”

“Ye went with Grandmagister Lamplighter, then.”

Juhg nodded.

“What was it like?” Raisho asked. “I’ve never been to them marshlands.”

“Swampy. The woods were filled with things that existed only to kill you and eat you if they got the chance. And then there were endless mosquitoes as big as my fist.”

“Did ye go there for treasure? I heard there was whole cities what was sunk out in them marshlands.”

“We found three cities.” Juhg took up one of the clean towels. “Lift the captain up a little and roll him onto his side.”

Raisho leaned forward and performed what was asked, holding the captain effortlessly. “Three cities.” He paused. “Did you find any treasures in ’em?”

“Yes. But we had to leave them in a hurry when we inadvertently provoked the people who lived there. And that wasn’t what we went there for anyway.”

“Ye went for a book.”

The arrow stuck out Captain Attikus’ back less than two inches. The arrowhead was a smooth one, not a broadhead. A broadhead, with its four razor-sharp edges set in an X, would have created more damage as well as a wound designed to stay open so the target would bleed to death.

Juhg took up a pair of tongs from the ship’s medical kit. As quartermaster for the ship, Lucius was supposed to tend to all the medical needs. Unfortunately, Lucius had fallen as one of the first casualties. His body lay on the deck bundled in sailcloth, as were all the others. As it turned out, Juhg was the next crew member with the most medical experience.

“Yes. We went for a book. We found nine of them, in fact.” Juhg took hold of the broken arrow with the tongs.

“Did men die them times?” Raisho asked in a quieter voice. “Men that went with ye an’ the Grandmagister?”

“Yes.” Juhg pulled on the arrow. Captain Attikus moved with it. “Raisho, I need you to hold the captain more securely. I’m going to take the arrow out now.”

“Won’t he start bleedin’?”

“A little. But the amount can be controlled with pressure. We waited this long so the body could start shutting off the blood to the wounded area.”

“Yer body does that?”

“Of course it does. Haven’t you ever noticed a scratch you might have gotten and the way the blood stops going to it?”

“Course I have.” Raisho braced the captain.

“If your body didn’t stop itself from bleeding, you’d die from even a small scratch. It would just take longer.” Juhg took hold of the arrow and pulled. He didn’t yank because that might have done more damage and even cost the captain the use of his arm. Slowly, the arrow pulled through the captain’s chest. Blood followed, pooling on his hands and on the tongs. He breathed through his mouth, in order to keep from being sick. Even after everything he’d done, after everything he’d seen, he was still squeamish for this kind of work.

“Did an apothecary teach ye all this?” Raisho asked.

“I learned some of what I know from different people,” Juhg said. “Apothecaries. Herbalists. Barbers who also treated wounds. Most of what I learned, though, I learned from books. Like the captain’s wound. I’ve seen men die with arrows through their chests.”

“Through their hearts?”

“Those too. But they die quick. A man shot through the lungs dies slower.”

“Like a deer,” Raisho said. “Ye shoot fer their lungs, an’ while they lay dyin’ a hunter cuts their throats so they pass on peaceable.”

“Yes.” Images spun in Juhg’s mind of two men he’d seen die slow deaths as he’d described. Some of the things he’d seen while traveling with Grandmagister Lamplighter had been as horrible as the things he’d seen in the goblin mines.

The broken arrow shaft pulled free. Captain Attikus moaned.

Worried that he’d done something wrong, Juhg glanced at his patient.

After a moment of discomfort, Captain Attikus passed back into a deeper sleep.

“We lost a lot of good sailors today,” Raisho commented a short time later.

“I know.” Juhg tried not to think about it, but couldn’t help himself. Mending the captain was his first priority, but there were others awaiting attention. He didn’t want to do it. He knew two of the sailors would probably die during the night despite his best efforts. No matter what he knew, the thing he knew most of all was that he didn’t know enough.

I’m a Librarian, not a doctor.

“All fer a book that ye can’t even read,” Raisho said.

His friend’s words wounded Juhg deeply.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Raisho mumbled.

“It’s all right,” Juhg replied, though it really wasn’t. But he knew a lot of the crew felt the same way as they trimmed the ship and effected repairs and tended their wounded shipmates.

“Mayhap that book will turn out to be important after all,” Raisho said. “After all, a wizard was guardin’ it.”

That only made Juhg feel more useless. If the book were so important that Ertonomous Dron had enlisted a goblin ship to protect it, his inability to read it stopped him from taking any kind of action. Not that he could take any real action. The book had to go to Greydawn Moors, which was where
Windchaser
was now headed. But if he’d had the skills, he could have read the book and been prepared for Grandmagister Lamplighter. Together, they could have decided what to do about it.

And that’s only if it doesn’t turn out to be a cookbook,
Juhg told himself sourly. If the book turned out to be something like that, or a made-up tale fit only for the shelves in Hralbomm’s Wing, Juhg knew he would never live down the disgrace.

His only consoling thought at the moment was that a wizard would not guard a cookbook with a spell of protection.