Page 101 of The Sea Witch
Alys summoned a shield on her arm just as the mage flung a cutting spell at her. Most of the sharp energy bounced off her shield, but what got past sent a rain of hot stings across her face. Ignoring the pain, she shot a bolt of power into her cutlass and attacked.
Her blade clashed against a lance of cold fire, thrown by the mage. Alys leapt onto the berth, gaining a height advantage, but he flung more spikes of icy flame at her. She ducked and shielded herself. The spikes slammed into the bulkhead, leaving burnt scars.
She feinted as if she intended to strike high, and when the mage tried to block the blow, she dove low, slashing at his legs.
He snarled in pain as she cut across his thigh and he shot another slicing spell at her. While she ducked away, he darted across the cabin to the narrow wooden box. He flung open the lid and pulled out a bottle. With his dagger, he cut off the wax seal, then put the bottle to his lips. He downed its glowing contents in one swallow.
Alys threw herself at him. Too late. Whatever the liquid inside the bottle was, it filled the mage with a surge of energy. His eyes glowed red. Fiery power seethed around him, and the force of the energy enveloping his body flung her backward.
The deep cut across his leg instantly healed. The sight of his own flesh mending made him grin.
“Fuck,” she muttered.
“Exactly,” the mage replied.
He stabbed his fiery fingers at her, but she had already leapt away. She yanked the box of potions off the table and threw it to the floor. Bottles smashed on the wood, spilling their glittering contents. The air filled with the smell of iron and fire.
The mage’s face contorted in anger. Trying to fight him now in his cramped quarters was a surefire way to get herself killed.
Shoving to her feet, she wrenched open the door to his cabin and darted into the passageway. He followed her, throwing spells that made the walls instantly crumble. She moved backward, blocking with her shield and slashing with her cutlass. Frightened seamen scurried out of their path and huddled in doorways as the fight continued.
The mage’s attacks forced her up the companionway until they emerged on the top deck. More stunned sailors darted out of their way. A man with a long dark blue coat and powdered wig—clearly the captain—gaped at her.
Alys glanced to see the still-glamouredSea Witchcoming closer to the portside of theAjax. Close enough to board.
It was impossible to wait any longer.
She stomped her boot onto the deck. It boomed like a thunderclap, causing the seamen to cover their ears.
At that same moment, theSea Witchdropped its glamour. No longer a damaged merchant ship, it sailed in all its piratical brilliance. Its decks were laden of women of every color, armed with firearms and cutlasses, magic encircling hands as witches prepared themselves for battle. Stasia and Olachi both held pistols and cutlasses as they stood at the head of the crew.
Their flag, a black banner depicting a woman wielding a sword beneath a crescent moon as she danced upon the waves, flapped defiantly in the wind.
“To the guns,” the captain of theAjaxshouted. “Fire at will!”
Gunners manned the cannons, loading and aiming them.
The witches flung up a shielding spell. It encircled the ship just as theAjax’s cannons fired.
All the cannonballs slammed against the shield, then tumbled harmlessly down into the water.
Grappling hooks were immediately flung from the pirate ship to the naval vessel. Led by Olachi and Stasia, the crew swung onto theAjax’s deck, their weapons forming bright arcs of magic between the ships.
A series of thumps followed as, one by one, the crew landed on the Ajax’s deck.
Marines gaped at the women as if they were gorgons who had turned them to stone. Women in trousers, laden with weapons and magic, glared back at them.
“Attack,” the captain shouted.
Seamen grabbed whatever weapons they could. Some had short daggers, others seized cudgels. Marines hefted rifles.
The mage threw glimmering spells toward their weapons, charging them.
Pops sounded as the marines’ guns fired. Stasia and Olachi threw up another shield, protecting the pirates from gunfire.
The marines and armed seamen charged through the smoke of the discharged firearms at the pirates, dodging and evading. Each witch darted toward their attackers. Once they were close enough, the witches placed their hands on the backs of the sailors’ necks.
Marking each witch’s hand was a crescent moon. The symbol had been painted on their palms with a mixture of honey and burnt valerian.
