Savage Messiah

"Earthshakers," Jessamay said.

"What?" Shailiha asked.

"Earthshakers," Jessamay repeated. "Massive beasts that Failee and the Coven used three centuries ago during the Sorceresses' War. Wulfgar must have found the formula for their conjuring in the Scroll of the Vagaries."

"Is there no way to defeat them?" Shailiha asked.

"Azure bolts can harm them," Faegan said, "if enough are loosed against them. But even if Jessamay and I were able to get close enough to try, the captains of the Black Ships would quickly defeat us. Six against two are odds that even she and I can't overcome."

He looked back up at the scout. "There were only six Black Ships, you say-not seven?" he asked.

"Six, my lord."

"Did you see Wulfgar aboard any of them?"

"No."

Faegan remained silent for a time as he looked back down at his model.

"What are your orders, my lord?" Dax asked. The young Minion officer was clearly spoiling for a fight.

Before answering, Faegan raised one hand and burned away the northeastern section of the model, as the scout had described. In size, it roughly matched the other destroyed areas that lined the Sippora. By the wizard's reckoning, one-third of the capital already lay in ruins. He could only assume that an equal proportion of her inhabitants were now dead.

The Enseterat had pla

With the Sippora doing part of the work, and the attack of the Black Ships and their creatures coming from the opposite direction, the pace of the destruction would now double. Together they would close in on the palace. When the Earthshakers arrived, even the thick castle walls would bow to their fury. Faegan balled his hands up into fists and banged them down on the arms of his chair.

"Like it or not, we must wait," he said softly, defiantly. "I know how badly you all want to take action, but we ca

CHAPTER LXXXV

They were making good time. standing in the bow of her flagship, Tyra

It was midday and the weather was favorable. Bright blue sky stretched overhead, with just the occasional trace of a passing cloud. The easterlies were strong, forcing her fleet to tack back and forth as they made their way north, up the coast. They sailed behind her in an arrowhead formation. A red image of the Paragon adorned each of their mainsails, bright and brazen for the world to see. Looking up, she silently blessed the good weather, for it would help her Minion scouting parties perform their searches.

She looked eastward. Her gut told her that the remainder of the demonslaver fleet was out there somewhere. Scars was fond of saying that she could smell a demonslaver from fifty leagues away. She smiled to herself. Perhaps he's right, she thought. But right now all I smell is salt air.

Tyra

Despite the ramshackle condition of her fleet, Tyra

This time it would be Tyra

She felt exactly the same way. All in all, even if they found themselves outnumbered, this time they would have a fighting chance. She would not shrink from this battle, but boldly claim it for her own.

As the Reprise's hull groaned and the waves split against her bow, Tyra

He's not mine, she thought as she tossed the spent cigarillo overboard.

Scars approached, his massive frame casting a long shadow over her. Tyra

"Your report?" she asked.

"Steady as she goes," Scars answered. "The other ships report no difficulties and the winds remain brisk. The fleet is ready for battle." He gave his captain a conspiratorial wink. "All we need now are some demonslavers to kill."

"Indeed," Tyra

Her sentence was suddenly interrupted by the sounds of boot heels striking the deck. She and Scars turned to see a scouting party landing. K'jarr hurried over to greet them.

The warriors talked animatedly among themselves. Then K'jarr turned to her, smiled broadly, and Tyra

"They've been spotted!" K'jarr exclaimed.

"Where away?" Tyra

"Due east," the other warrior answered. "I estimate them to be no more than six leagues from our current position."

"How many ships?" Scars asked.

"Thirty," the warrior answered, "and each of them loaded to the sinking point with slavers. We saw no humans among them. They sail in an arrowhead formation, just as we do."

"Do you think you were seen?" Tyra

"I do not know," the scout said. "I sent one of us lower to determine whether there were any humans aboard. Given the clear weather, he might have been noticed. If he was, the slavers gave no indication of it."

Tyra

K'jarr clicked his heels. "I live to serve," he answered. He turned briskly and hurried away.

Scars gri

"Signal the other ships," she said. "I want them in a straight battle line. If the enemy has not broken their formation, then we shall know that we haven't been detected. Damn this good weather! I would have preferred to attack suddenly from a fog bank, but that can't be helped. This will be a straight-up fight." Pausing for a moment, she looked back out to sea.

"Once our line is formed, make our course due east," she said. "We must make the most of our first pass."

Scars smiled again. "Aye, Captain," he answered. "And may the Afterlife be with us."

Tyra

May the Afterlife help us indeed, she thought. I fear we are going to need it.