Page 52 of The Demons in the Deep: Extended Edition
“My hands are all torn up. Arms too,” said the physik. “What in the tides did that fool girl do to the gun?”
Rake could see cuts on Graves’s palms and arms, none of them too deep, but all leaking blood. He gritted his teeth, torn between pity for the physik and defensiveness on Mai’s behalf.
“It wasn’t the Sparrow’s fault, Graves,” Flay said sternly. “The target, Baz—fire!”
With the target painted, Flay continued. “We tested that gun at least a dozen times. Worked perfectly each time. No, this was deliberate sabotage, intended to take out one of our weapons and damage our best marksman.”
Rake scanned the water, both ahead and behind. “We’re in fifth place now.”
“I slowed theKestrelso we could get you two aboard,” Flay said. “I wasn’t going to leave you behind in this place. We still don’t know if those monsters—”
But as he spoke, the sea ahead began to churn.
The racing boat nearest theKestrelbobbed and lurched, caught in the sucking force of the whirling water. Rake’s keen ears picked up the panicked shouts of the men aboard.
More whirlpools opened, pitting the surface of the sea, growing in ever-widening spirals.
Flay wrenched the wheel, straining, and Rake stepped to his side to help. Together they exerted enough force to steer clear of the ship ahead, which flipped onto its side, spewing its crew into the churning water.
“Not the monsters,” Flay shouted. “Something else, by thunder.” His bare shoulder slammed into Rake’s. They were both panting, struggling to keep theKestrelin the narrow safe space between two of the whirlpools.
Rake’s skin heated, but he did not sweat as Flay did. In ways that the belt couldn’t change, he was ill-adapted for exertion on land. When a curving arc of spray rained over them both, he closed his eyes briefly, relishing its coolness.
They skimmed out of the whirlpools and Baz painted another target. More targets, and more obstacles, including one area with a net of fiery ropes through which they had to navigate. Mai had demanded that the sails be treated with a flame-retardant substance of her own concoction, and Rake marveled at her foresight. How had she known that theKestrel’s sails would be at risk from fire?
Farther ahead, people on the nearby cliff shot wooden balls at the racing boats, striking some of the crew. One ball blasted into theKestrel’s hull, but it lodged amid the struts and did not crack the inner layer. Another benefit of Mai’s design.
They had rounded most of the island by now, and Rake suspected they were approaching the area where he and Mai had swum in the lagoon. The area with the monsters.
“Flay,” he said, and the captain answered quietly, “I know.” Louder he ordered, “Be ready with all remaining weapons.”
Corklan and Baz nodded, but Graves slumped in the bottom of the boat, still frowning, his bloody hands curled against his chest. Rake disliked the physik still more for his sulking. Not a word of thanks to Rake for saving his life, and the man was doing nothing to help the cause. Rake himself had done great things while terribly wounded. Perhaps Graves found it hard to remember the stakes of this contest.
“I’ve been a slave,” Rake said abruptly to the physik. “You would not enjoy it.”
Graves stared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“He means we need to win, Sawbones,” said Flay cheerfully. “Up you get, and do your part with the ropes. I’ll see you get the best of care once we finish this. And give Goldfish your coat. You’ve no need of it on this hot day, and I’m sure he’d rather not come into port with his branch and berries dangling in full view.”
Grumbling, Graves took off the garment and handed it over. Then he tore strips from his shirt and wrapped his hands quickly, while Rake tried to put on the coat. Graves was a thin fellow, and the coat would not fit around Rake’s wide shoulders. Finally he fashioned it into a sort of wrap around his waist.
“We’ve had an open stretch of sea, and a quiet moment to catch up, lads,” Flay called out. “But I’m sensing a change in the wind. Look ahead.”
Rake squinted, adjusting his goggles. Two of the ships up ahead were listing badly, masts bent. Another ship had its side stoved in—it was sinking.
“What’s that around the masts there?” Corklan pointed.
“Looks like thin spiked chains, maybe weighted at the ends,” Flay replied. “Some new kind of weapon. Let’s go around them, boys. Brace yourselves!”
TheKestrelskirted the knot of damaged ships and raced forward, sails bellied out with the wind. Yellow and green sails bobbed above the waves, rounding a spur of the rocky shore.
“Third place, gents!” roared Flay. “Just my brother and Captain Cinux to catch now! Look alive! If I had my other five fingers, I would throw my hat, but I must keep a hand to the wheel. Goldfish, give the watchers a wave for us.”
Rake turned toward the shore, where clusters of onlookers dotted the rough terrain. He saw small tents, awnings, umbrellas—people relaxing, drinking, and eating. Children jumped up and down, waving at the boats. Rake frowned, concerned that the small, soft human bodies might fall from those heights and be damaged. But he forced himself to wave back.
TheKestrelwas pulling nearer to the two leading boats—close enough to see when Feral’s boat shot a hail of spinning, spiked chains at the mast of the second-place ship. The chains whipped around the mast, curling tight and snapping it through in three different places. Men cried out as chunks of the broken mast crashed onto them.
The second ship’s gunner retaliated with a hail of iron pellets, but they seemed to bounce off theSparrow’s hull. Bellowing with rage, Captain Cinux took up a long tubelike device and spewed a stream of fire toward Feral’s racer. But theSparrowwas already out of range.
