When she reached his cabin, though, Nicci found the door ajar. He had gone out on deck into the whipping wind and the spray of waves. When she emerged outside, cold raindrops slapped her face, but the frigid shock braced her. The wind flung her hair in all directions. She sucked in a breath and shouted Nathan’s name.
She saw him clinging to a ratline at the base of the mizzenmast. His long white hair hung like wet ropes down past his shoulders. He had wrapped himself in an oilskin cloak, but the storm blew so hard that he was surely drenched. His face was drawn, his expression queasy, and Nicci wondered if the wizard had been poisoned as well. More likely, Nathan was just seasick. He wore his sword at his side, as if to battle the rain.
Nicci stepped onto the wave-washed deck, as if drawing energy from the storm to drive away the lingering effects of the poison. Her black dress was soaked, but she kept her balance. She made her way along by grabbing a ratline to hold herself steady as the ship plunged into the trough of a wave and then rose up again in a sickening lurch.
When Nathan saw her, his face split in a broad grin. “You look ill, Sorceress. The storm is not to your liking?”
“Poison is not to my liking,” she shouted back into the howling noise. “But I’ll recover. Unfortunately, Captain Eli will have to find new wishpearl divers.” She said nothing more.
Nathan gave a small nod as he drew his own conclusions. “I’m sure you took care of them as was necessary.”
Whitecaps foamed over the bow, spilling like a slop bucket across the deck. Several supply barrels broke loose from their ropes, rolled down the deck, smashed into the side wall, and bounced up and overboard to be lost in the waves.
Nathan caught himself on a rope and held on, then let out a disconcerting laugh as he straightened. “A good storm and a surly crew make for a fine adventure, don’t you think?”
Nicci tried to quell the pain that echoed through her skull, the knotting in her stomach. “I’m not doing this for adventure, but for Lord Rahl and his empire.”
“I thought you were supposed to save the world.”
“That is what the witch woman thinks.” She hunched as another spasm twisted her gut. “I will let Richard save the world in his own way.”
The watch lookout had lashed himself to the platform for safety, but he maintained his post to scan for rocks, reefs, or an unexpected coastline. The swaying of the ship made his high perch like the end of an inverted pendulum, and he held on for dear life.
The storm clouds knotted tighter over the night sky, like a strangler’s garrote. Flashes of lightning illuminated the sea and the rigging with jagged slices of liquid silver.
When Nicci heard a familiar shout, she shielded her eyes from the rain to see a drenched Bannon descending from the yardarm on the mainmast. He carried his sword, as if he might find enemies in the sky. It was an impractical choice, but the young man took the blade wherever he went. Nathan watched his young protégé with a measure of pride and incredulity.
Halfway down the mast, Bannon stared out at the roiling sea and yelled something unintelligible. He pointed frantically.
When another large wave crashed against the ship, the Wavewalker tilted at an extreme angle. Water rolled across the deck, sweeping away ropes, crates, and broken debris. One young sailor was caught unawares and slipped from his anchor point on the rail. He tumbled and rolled, scrabbling with his hands until he caught a precarious perch, holding on.
Nicci tried to gather her control of the air and wind, just enough to catch the hapless sailor, to save him. Then she spotted what had struck such a look of terror on Bannon’s face from his high perch.
Just as the clinging sailor lost his grip and was about to fly over the edge in the curling wash of water, a creature climbed over the rail and caught him, a humanlike figure with clawed, webbed hands. The panicked young sailor grabbed for anything, any hope of rescue, and the thing snagged him. The pale-skinned creature grabbed the sailor’s striped shirt and seized his wet brown hair with the other hand.
For a moment it seemed as if the slimy thing had saved him—but then it opened a mouth full of sharp, triangular teeth and bit down on the side of the seaman’s head, taking away half of his face and the top of his skull. As the sailor screamed and struggled, the monster tore open his throat, then cast the body onto the deck, discarding its victim in a wash of blood and seawater.
Nicci knew instinctively what they were. “Selka,” she whispered. “They must be selka.”
Sailors on deck shouted an alarm as a dozen more slick figures scrambled from the depths, climbing the Wavewalker’s hull to swarm the decks.
CHAPTER 15
The invading creatures were sleek and smooth, with muscles rippling beneath their gray-green skin. Nicci remembered Nathan’s story that the selka had been human once, tortured and reshaped into a race of aquatic warriors. These things, though, looked as if they had forgotten their humanity long ago.
They opened their slit mouths wide, gasping in the rain-lashed air, to reveal rows of triangular fangs. A filmy membrane covered their large eyes, and pupil slits widened to encompass the few hardy sailors on duty. A serrated fin ran from the hairless head down the spine, and frills of swimming fins adorned their forearms and legs.
The Wavewalker was vulnerable, caught in the fierce storm. The sailors could barely survive the weather’s fury, and now deadly sea people swarmed aboard. Shouting for help, crewmen scrambled across the deck to find harpoons and boat hooks for weapons.
Three selka skittered forward like the flash of fish in a brook. The veteran sailor Karl grabbed a harpoon and swung the wooden shaft with a grunt to defend himself, but he had inadvertently seized the harpoon whose point was eaten away by jellyfish acid, rendering the weapon little more than a club. Karl fought nevertheless. He smashed the face of one selka, flattening its smooth head. Its gill slits flapped, oozing blood.
The other two creatures were upon Karl. The big seaman punched and struggled, but one selka held him down while the second ripped open his chest, splitting the sternum and peeling his ribs apart. Together, the selka dug into the gaping wound and yanked out his slippery organs as Karl shrieked into the raging winds.
Nicci stood her ground by the door to the stern deck, still trying to drive back her disorientation as she searched for magic inside her, any kind of spell that would let her fight. The poison had debilitated her, and she had just exerted herself to defeat Sol and his vile companions. She was in no shape to attack.