Page 112 of The Sea Witch
“There were only six places at the table,” Alys murmured. “So who are these beds for?”
“Guests?” Thérèse supposed.
“Who don’t eat with the monks?” Alys shook her head. “There were prisoners here. But they’re gone now.”
Alys stepped to a window facing the sea. It revealed theSea Witch, sailing as quickly as it could through the channel. “If I can see our ship, so can the Redthorns.”
They crept down spiral stone stairs and emerged on the bottom floor of the monastery. It was one cavernous hall carved directly into the cliff, with ceilings beamed with broad timbers. The chamber stretched into darkness. A few tall open doors led to a balcony. Hanging from the wall nearest the staircase were six maces, almost as long as Alys was tall. Topping each one was a cylindrical head, ringed by giant iron thorns.
Alys gulped at the brutal weapons. At least they were hanging here in their armory—the Redthorns were currently unarmed... hopefully.
Six enormous men stood on the balcony, surrounding the cannon. Black robes draped from their broad shoulders. Red cowls topped their black robes. Slanting rays from the sun glinted on the shaved sides of their heads. The rest of their hair hung in long matted locks. A tattoo of a thorny vine encircled each monk’s neck.
“Do they recruit only from the ranks of giants?” Stasia whispered. “Thesizeof them.”
The monks were indeed massive, over a foot taller than any of her crew, with wide shoulders. All of them were gathered around the largest cannon Alys had ever seen. Runes covered its barrel—which pointed at theSea Witch. Cannonballs were arranged beside the gun, along with stacks of powder kegs.
A monk loaded a glowing magic-charged cannonball into the artillery. He hefted the heavy projectile as easily as she might hold a pebble.
With dark sorcery imbuing the weapon, her ship would never survive being hit.
Alys and her crew dipped their hands into pouches hanging from their belts. They threw forged iron nails at the Redthorns.
At the same time, Thérèse flung a spell as they flew through the air, transforming them into angry gleaming hornets made of magical energy. Buzzing, they surrounded the monks, attacking the men.
The Redthorns didn’t swat at the insects, didn’t curse, even as the hornets drew blood. Instead, the men turned, facing Alys and her crew.
The monks rushed inside as they attacked. They snapped their fingers and maces flew from the wall into their hands.
Susannah used gusts of wind to swoop overhead, her cutlass slashing as she darted through the air. Yet the ceiling and its beams hampered her movements and kept her too close to the bald monk’s swinging mace. Tables were scattered throughout the chamber, and Thérèse cast a spell to pull metal bolts from them. She flung the bolts at an advancing monk, this one with gray mixed in with the black of his hair. Yet when the bolts pierced him, he simply pried the metal from his body and tossed them aside. Stasia used her magic to flip two of the tables onto their ends. The tables screeched toward the Redthorns, forming a protective barrier between them and the crew.
Relentless, the monks pressed forward. But two Redthorns lumbered out onto the balcony to aim the cannon at theSea Witch.
Alys spotted tables with laboratory equipment, and on them, glass flasks with multicolored liquids and tubes of potions and powders. She lunged toward the vials. A monk, younger than the others but still massive and menacing, blocked her path.
Susannah swooped down from above. She picked up three vials and threw them at the foot of the cannon.
Dashing out from behind an upright table, Stasia summoned a lightning strike. It hit the compound at the base of the gun and ignited a powder keg.
A deafening explosion shook the room and rocked Alys back on her heels.
The section of balcony shattered into chunks of stone. One of the Redthorns was sprawled on the balcony, missing half his head.
The other monk still stood. But his right arm was gone. He turned and lumbered toward the remaining powder kegs, tracking streaks of his blood across the stone.
Head buzzing from the deafening explosion, Alys swayed on her feet. She backed into metal bars. Spinning around, she faced a cage, a fox inside staring at her with haunted eyes. More cages filled this section of the chamber, each containing different animals. Hawks and sparrows, monkeys, wolves, rabbits, even deer. They were missing patches of feathers and fur. The animals all regarded Alys warily, as if anticipating terrible harm. Farther behind the cages were tables the width and length of a human, with leather straps where a person’s wrists and ankles would rest.
Four Redthorns charged into the chamber, maces at the ready.
Alys needed to distract them. She raced along the rows of cages and Stasia joined her. Together, they quickly undid the locks, one after the other, and the cages’ doors all swung open. For a moment, the animals within them remained where they were, too stunned to move.
“Flee,” Alys cried to the creatures. “You’re free now.”
The creatures burst from their confinement. Hawks shrieked and wolves howled as the air was filled with fur and feathers.
But the chaos of the animals’ flight stymied the monks’ efforts to attack. Soon, the cages were empty, the animals all gone, leaving everyone to face the Redthorns with nothing to curtail the monks’ assault.
Alys sprinted from the laboratory into the last section of the long chamber. Tall shelves filled with books lined the walls, and more books were piled upon tables used for studying.
