Page 85 of Hot Zone

How she was going to climb out onto that narrow, precarious tongue of wood and get the damned thing, she had no idea. But one step at a time. It was a huge milestone to have even found it.

Another series of horn blasts drifted across the water, and ships all around them began to weigh anchor and hoist sails. The front edge of the fleet appeared. But, with the forward momentum it had, Artemesia’s ship passed most of the others before they got under way.

Now that Tessa knew where the bronze piece was, she probably shouldn’t stand here staring at it until Rustam took notice of what she was doing. She wandered aft to watch the progress of the fleet. She was relieved when he didn’t follow her but rather chose to stay up front and gaze out across the open water before them.

The fleet at their back was an impressive sight. As far as she could see, ships blanketed the sea. Hundreds, even thousands, of them. Ancient histories reported that Xerxes had fifteen thousand ships. It was possible his army numbered three hundred thousand or more, as Rustam said it did.

A sailor, perched high in the rigging overhead, shouted all of a sudden. The Athenian fleet had been sighted.

Artemesia’s voice rang out from behind Tessa. “Prepare for battle! Wake the oarsmen and arm yourselves! We fight for the glory of Persia!”

Tessa’s heart leaped into her throat. How in the world was she going to climb out onto the prow of the ship and get that disk in the middle of the greatest naval battle of ancient times? What if the ship sank? Then what was she supposed to do, assuming she didn’t drown or get run over by another ship in the process?

As soon as crewmen on the ships behind them sighted the Athenian fleet, the race was on. Every captain wanted to be the first to engage the enemy, apparently. Bigger ships gradually gained on Artemesia’s low-slung vessel.

Tessa had spoken with the captain during the night about how its lower center of gravity made it more stable on the open sea or in a storm than the other Persian ships and more nimble to maneuver. However, what it gave up in momentum and surface area of sails was quickly becoming apparent as the other Persian ships bore down on them.

She gazed ahead anxiously. There it was. The first of several channel islands that angled in toward shore, creating a natural—and deadly—funnel for the Persian fleet.

Tessa turned to speak urgently to the captain and was startled to find herself facing Artemesia.

“Speak,” the queen commanded when Tessa drew up short.

“See that island over there?” Tessa pointed to the one she’d been looking at. “It angles toward shore, and this strait gets narrower and narrower ahead. The fleet behind us is going form a massive logjam—” She broke off. “Do you know that term? When logs float down a river and get smashed together—”

Artemesia waved a hand, cutting her off, her assessing gaze already taking in the bigger ships bearing down upon them. She grasped the problem in an instant and quickly ordered, “All sails aloft. Now! Full speed ahead on the oars!”

The faint rhythmic sound drifting up from below picked up speed and urgency, and Tessa abruptly realized what it was. A drum, being used to coordinate the strokes of the rowers.

Artemesia’s ship shot forward. Sure enough, the straits narrowed on either side of them, the shores rocky and steep. Ahh, the Athenians had chosen their trap well. Unfortunately, the other Persian captains also seemed to recognize the danger, and an all-out race for a tiny patch of open water ahead broke out. As the bigger ships also hoisted full sails and their oars stroked the water faster and faster, the ground Artemesia had gained was eaten up. Inevitably, the larger vessels again bore down on them.

The queen’s captain shouted to the pair of approaching vessels to back off, but apparently, they were having none of it. It was every man for himself out here. Whoever got to the neck of the strait first would sail through. Everyone else would chance being crushed.

The ships on either side of them pulled even, then slightly ahead. Tessa winced. They weren’t going to make it. Turbulent water before them marked the neck of the strait. She glanced in rising panic at Rustam, whose face was grim with understanding that they were in serious trouble.

“Do something!” she cried to him.

“I can’t move an entire ship this size. Not without my gear. I need my crystals or something of equal power to focus my energy on.”

Her cuff. It had a time-travel crystal in it. Was that what he was talking about?

The ship on their right banged into them, causing their vessel to rock violently. Tessa was thrown off her feet. Rustam knelt quickly beside her. “Can you swim?” he bit out.

“Yes. You?”

“Yes. When we go in the water, I’ll try to stay with you. But if we get separated, try to find something to hang on to, to keep you afloat. This water is deep and cold and you’ll tire fast. Head for the Greek shore if you can.”

They were in serious trouble if he was talking about what to do when they sank. She said urgently, “I have one calibrated quartz crystal. Is that enough?”

He shook his head and muttered under his breath, “With only one crystal, I’d need a focus object—a substance hardened to withstand unleashed star-navigator energy, and the tearing forces of displacing and reforming.”

The Karanovo fragment. Would it work?

She murmured, “There may be a focus object on this ship.”

Rustam’s eyes widened in surprise. “Impossible!” he exclaimed.

She climbed to her feet, staggering as the ship to the left jostled them. She grabbed his hand and dragged him forward, dodging frantic sailors trying to pad the sides of their vessel with blankets and spare sails. “There!” She pointed at the figurehead. “Her spear tip.”

Rustam stared where she indicated. His jaw dropped. “The Karanovo—” He broke off abruptly. “It might work. Give me your crystal.”

They were banged hard from both sides this time as the rocky shores funneled the front rank of the Persian fleet mercilessly together. The ship’s timbers groaned, punctuated by ominous cracking noises, as it was slowly crushed between two larger vessels. Behind them, the captain screamed for the crew to prepare to abandon ship.

Tessa tore her belt pouch open and grabbed her arm cuff, thrusting it into his hands.

“Touch me,” Rustam yelled over the grinding of wood on wood. “Give me all your power!”

She grasped him from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist and hanging on for all she was worth as the ship began to buckle around them.

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