Page 90 of The Queens and the Kings
A wave bashed into the side of the ship, knocking it to the side. She threw her arms around the wyvern’s leg and lifted her feet. Partially unbound, they skidded across the deck, crashing into the railing on the far side.
Britt shouted, and the wyvern bellowed. His wing slammed into the gunwale, splintering it. For one terrible moment, they hovered on the edge. Britt’s legs dangled free over the churning ocean.
The wyvern yanked her back.
Gasping, saturated, eyes stinging from the salt water, she scrabbled to hold on. The ship counter rocked and her slippery hold released. She plunged across the listing deck, plummeting fast. The wyvern’s other leg loomed dead ahead. If she skidded past, if her momentum was too great, she’d vault right into the rip current. Pedr’s wooden disk still bit into her shoulder, but inspired little confidence.
With athudthat stole her breath, she slammed into the wyvern’s leg. Gaping against the hot agony in her ribs, she reached for the wyvern’s now-lackluster chain. It twisted in his talons while she pounded on his ankle, striking bone.
“Shake your leg!” she shouted.
The wyvern protested with a roar, but obeyed. Britt’s teeth jarred in her head as she clung to the trembling leg. The twisted chains broke loose. Another wave broke over them with less power. She reached for the clasp, hauled it back, and cranked it free. As it gave way, the wyvern shot off the deck like a crack of cannon powder.
Screaming, Britt wrapped her arms around the wyvern’s leg. Without its weight, the ship of the line surged higher. Angled at the swell of an incoming wave, it groaned as it swept sideways. The gigantic wave crashed over deck, shattering one mast to bits.
They winged away.
The wyvern tossed her into the sea.
Water engulfed her, splashing her nasal passages with salty fire. She coughed, surfaced, sputtered as a wave collapsed over her head. Her limbs synced into instinctual motion as she swam for the top, breaking out with a second life-giving gasp.
A crimson light flickered red amidst the charcoal sky. Pedr shouted, “Grab on!” before something heavy splashed in front of her. A rope. She grabbed it with both hands. At first touch, she soared out of the water. The arcane flung her into the air, wrenching the rough rope out of her hands.
Britt flailed, descending as quickly as she ascended. Pedr’s strong arms caught her, cushioning her as they sprawled to the deck together. Panting, Britt rolled off of him. She pressed her cheek to the ship.
“Never,” she breathed, “again.”
Chapter Twenty Five
PEDR
Britt stood at the stern,damp hair draped over her shoulders, and glowered at the sky.
She wore Henrik’s coat, holding it closed in one fist, as Henrik and Einar finished the final leg of their row. They angled the rowboat out of sight and into the shadow of the ship. When the final thuds of the rowboat returning to its place next to the deck sounded, and both soldats hopped over the side, Pedr spoke to the arcane.
Out to sea.
It twirled on the spot in immediate obeisance. He’d asked a lot of it today, but not too much. Interesting what happened when he tested his limits. Growth, not exhaustion. More. At his side, his hands flexed, fingers opening and closing. He had foundnolimits, thus far.
Only in his mind.
Only in curses.
Swiping his palms against his pants, Henrik turned for Britt while Einar joined Pedr on deck. With Pedr’s quick touches, arcane light zipped across the ropes, sails, deck. The ship swirled to the southwest and surged on choppy waters. They racedahead of the storm on their return, only to find that it had stopped moving closer when the wyvern escaped.
Of course it did.
The Siren Queens had no reason to keep the wyverns out when it returned to the mainland, which is exactly what the sea battle had been. The might of the Siren Queens trying to turn the wyvern away, and the burgeoning power of the Wyvern Kings opposing them. That westward current hadn’t been Pedr.
It had been the wyvern on the ship of the line. Imperfect, and struggling a little, but definitely from the wyvern. Was that particular Wyvern King more powerful? More awake than the others? Both, perhaps. It meant that a very powerful Wyvern King had been growing greater awareness, and he was livid.
Pedr kept a wary eye on Henrik, who stood at Britt’s side, one hand touching her elbow. She met his eyes. They spoke quietly. Pedr could have eavesdropped if he wanted, but he didn’t. Henrik treated Britt too much like a fragile flower. There was nothing to worry about there.
“Have a jaunt, did you?” Einar asked. He stood against the railing, an eyebrow cocked. Pedr suppressed the urge to put a fist into Einar’s teeth.
“A picnic, actually.”
Einar laughed.
