In several places, the railing and the deck smoked with the cold burning of the serpents’ venom. Brashen seized a bucket of sea water from a passing hand and took it forward to the figurehead. Amber was there before him. She dashed a bucket of water over Paragon’s steaming shoulder. As the sea water carried away a gelatinous mist of serpent venom, the whole ship shuddered in relief. Paragon’s keening dropped to panting moans. Amber turned to Brashen and tried to take the bucket he held. His breath seized in his chest. “Stand still,” he ordered her gruffly, and upended the bucket over her head.

Great hanks of her hair flowed away with the running water. On the left side of her body, her clothing hung in steaming tatters. The side of her face was rippled with blisters. “Strip off those clothes, and wash your skin thoroughly,” he ordered her.

She swayed where she stood. “Paragon needs me,” she said faintly. “All others have turned on him. Every family, every kin he has ever claimed have turned on him. He has only us, Brashen. Only us.”

Paragon suddenly turned a pocked and steaming face toward them. “I do need you,” he admitted hoarsely. “I do. And that is why you should get below and strip off those clothes before the venom eats you through.”

There was a sudden shout of horror from Clef. He was pointing with a shaking hand. “Ship’s boat, ser! A serpent’s tail struck it, en they all went flyin’ like dolls! Right ento the middle o’em serpents. En now I ken’t see’m at all.”

In an instant, Brashen stood beside him. “Where?” he demanded, shaking the boy’s shoulder, but all Clef could do was point at nothing. Where the boat had been there was now only the colorful rippling of serpent backs and glittering waves. He doubted Althea could swim; few sailors bothered to learn, claiming that if one went overboard, there was small sense in prolonging the agony. He thought of the weight of her long split skirt pulling her under and groaned aloud. He could not let her go like that. To put out another ship’s boat into that sea of serpents would simply murder the men he sent.

“Up anchor!” he shouted. He would take the Paragon in closer to Vivacia and search the stretch of water where Clef had last seen them. There was a tiny chance they remained alive, clinging to the capsized boat. Pirates and serpents notwithstanding, he’d find her. He had to.

KENNIT WATCHED THE ONCOMING WAVE OF HEADS AND GAPING MAWS AND tried to keep his aplomb. The distant screaming of his ship crawled up his nerves and grated against his soul, waking memories of a dark and smoky night years ago. He pushed them away. “Why do they return? They have not finished him.” He dragged in a breath. “I thought they could do this swiftly. I would have a quick end to this.”

“I do not know,” Bolt replied angrily. She threw back her head and trumpeted at the oncoming serpents. Several of them replied, a confusing blast of sound.

“I think you will have to vanquish your own nightmares,” the charm informed him quietly. “Behold. Paragon comes for you.”

In a moment of great clarity, Kennit watched the ship ponderously swing in the wind, and then start toward him. So. It was to be battle after all. Perhaps it was better that way. When the battle was over, he would tread Paragon’s decks once more. There would be a final farewell, of sorts. “Jola!” He was pleased that his voice rang clear and strong despite how his heart shook inside him. “The serpents have done their task. They have weakened and demoralized our enemy. Prepare the men for battle. I will lead the boarding party.”

BRASHEN SHOULD HAVE NOTICED THAT DESPITE ALL THE ROARING AND thrashing, the serpents were not attacking Vivacia. He should have noticed the orderly way the pirates massed along the railings as Paragon came alongside. His eyes should have stayed on Kennit’s ship instead of searching the water for Althea’s body. He should have known that a truce flag was no more than a piece of white rag to the pirate king….

The first grapples hit his deck when he thought he was still out of range of such devices. Even as he angrily ordered them cleared away, a line of archers stepped precisely to Kennit’s railing. Arrows flew, and Brashen’s men went down. Men who had survived the serpents’ venom died shocked deaths as Brashen reeled in horror at his own incompetence. More grapples followed the first, the ships were pulled closer together, and then a wave of boarders came swinging from their rigging into his. Pirates were suddenly everywhere, pouring over his railings and onto his decks in a seemingly endless wave. The defenders were pushed back, and then their line broke and became small knots of men struggling against all odds to survive.