A galley exploded with a roar. Someone had managed to fire its load of black powder.

Daja returned to her part of the battle. A mage with a mirror-bright brass shield was deflecting fire-bolts away from his ship's catapult. She would see how long he could hold on to the shield.

When the pirates' magical wall went to pieces, Tris summoned the ball of lightning that she'd left in front of her body on the wall. Waiting for it, she looked the fleet over. Where was this Enahar? Wouldn't their boss mage - as Briar put it - be on the biggest ship? He'd be close to the pirate leader, surely.

She examined the largest galleys. Each sported men and women ablaze with inner magical fire, so that was no clue. The dromon at the centre of the fleet, though, had even more mages than the others. Beneath the scarlet pennant flown by every ship was a smaller blue flag, with crossed black swords for a device. Since no one else flew two banners, she was ready to bet that was the flagship.

This is for Aymery! she cried, stretching the lightning in her hands into a long strip. For the carpenters, and the soldier who liked dogs! This is for my starling's dead parents! She hurled the lightning with all her might, putting her rage into it. Lengthening as it flew, it made the air boom in its wake. It struck the flagship dead centre.

The ship blew up in a spray of flame and smoke. Tris flinched, though her magical body couldn't be hurt by flying debris. Burning corpses flew by, making her quail. There were cries below as pieces struck neighbouring ships. Chunks of burning wood and red-hot metal rained down; sails caught fire. A length of flaming mast speared a lesser galley, crunching through its aftercastle. After a moment, that ship exploded.

Chapter Thirteen

Tris fled back to her body. Served them right, she thought, opening her real eyes. Served them right. They're just a bunch of murdering thieves.

Reaching into her pocket, she drew out Aymery's earring. It still gave off the glow of magic to her eyes. Enahar was alive. If he hadn't been on the flagship, where was he?

"Sandry?" she asked.

The other girl opened her eyes and coughed. Clouds of smoke from the brambles thickened the air around them. "Tris, that was horrible."

"They wanted to do it to us," Tris pointed out.

"I know. I know - you're right." Sandry shook her head. Pirates were vermin and had to be crushed; she knew that as well as she knew her own name. It was just hard to remember when they screamed.

"He wasn't there." Tris showed her the earring. "I need to find him, Sandry. This is his fault. He ordered Aymery killed. Help me track this thing to its source?"

Sandry nodded. Both girls closed their eyes, and sent their magical selves out. They passed over a wide band of green fire, where Briar and his thorns fought landing parties for possession of the cove. Under his direction the vines lashed like whips, forcing the invaders back, as the smaller thorny plants stuffed themselves into any clothes opening they could find.

In the sea Tris's waterspout prowled, clipping oars, sweeping people from decks, and eating rope as it swept to and fro. A copper blaze hovering over a dromon was Daja. She had called the anchor to her and it came, rising inch by inch as it dripped seaweed and brine. Drawing it over the ship's midsection, she let it drop. It crashed through deck and hull as hard as a catapult-stone. Water fountained through the hole as the ship began to sink.

Tris looked everywhere, seeking the silver points that were mages. In places their numbers were so many that their lights joined to form a single, large blot. She kept losing the pale glimmer of the earring's thread among them.

What kind of pattern is this? Sandry wanted to know. What's it for? It's huge, whatever it is!

What pattern? asked Tris, confused.

You don't see it? Back on the wall, Sandry put an arm around Tris. How about now?

The magical Tris rose higher over the fleet. Now that she was in physical contact with Sandry, the pattern was clear, even with ships drifting out of line or missing entirely. Magical threads passed from mage to mage. They were thin in places where the gap between mages was extra-large - where they had lost mages - but the overall design still held.

The pattern ended at a small ship at the rear of the fleet. Other threads led away from it, to the west - towards Summersea. Tris knew that the mages in the fleet at the harbour were on the other end of those.

Sandry touched the thread from Aymery's earring, darkening it from silver to dark green, until Tris could see it clearly against all the other magics. It, too, led to that ship.

All right? asked Sandry.

Thank you, Tris replied.

On the wall, Sandry took her arm away. Try a little mercy? she asked, looking at the pirates and slaves who struggled in the water of the cove.

Tris raced off.

Sandry dropped down, wanting a closer look at the shapes created by the threads. Something was not right. She drew closer still, until she hovered over a ship where three magical lines came together. Gingerly, she touched their joining.

Blackness wrapped around her eyes, her mouth, her arms. She struggled, furious, as something towed her magical self away. There was no getting free. In the distance, she felt the collapse of her protective barrier on the wall. Now anyone could approach their bodies. She could only pray that someone would, soon.

Picking a fresh dromon to work on, Daja sent out her power, seeking metal. Here was something else familiar: a quantity of fine charcoal, like that she and Frostpine used in the forges. Boom-dust! she thought joyfully.

This ship appeared to be a stockpile for it. She narrowed her senses, until she found the door the stuff lay behind. Silver light flickered over it, but there was nothing on the metal latch. If she just opened the door, and bellows-blew a lamp in there... Eagerly she touched the latch.