This is why I fight dirty.
Now disarmed, the soldier’s anger redoubled. Fueled by a sudden panic, he wrenched back the freedom of his wrists and wrapped Zala in a bear hug so tight she couldn’t breathe.
With each moment, the soldier squeezed tighter, his padded armor crushing against Zala’s skin. Every time she thought she could find air through the hold, the soldier seemed to just tighten his lethal embrace even more. The edges of her vision darkened as she struggled for breath. She tried to free her arms to get to the soldier’s face, but he pinned them into her ribs.
Then... Zala felt nothing.
At first she thought she had passed out, but then she realized the soldier had released her—and he had three arrows protruding from his back. Zala clutched at her throat while she struggled to refill her lungs with air.
“What in the Sapphire Hells are you doing?” Fon caught Zala by the arm, lifting her up as best she could. “There’s too many of them. You’ll get yourself killed.”
“But Jelani! He’ll—” Zala stopped herself. Her eyes darted across the deck, catching sight of the other soldiers engaged in savage fights of their own. She stole another glance to the stern. Through the cloud break, her husband fought like a madman just to stay alive, and she was still a quarter ship away.
Fon was right. There was no use attacking when so many of the Vaaji surrounded them. If she kept it up, she’d be dead before she made it halfway there.
Zala needed a plan. She scanned the deck for something, anything that could help, but nothing caught her eye. Then she looked above.
“What are you thinking?” Fon asked as she handed Zala her fallen sword. “Take their crow’s nest? Give our crew cover?”
“No, we need to use the ratlines,” Zala answered.
“How are we going to do that?”
Zala looked at Fon. “I’ll need you as a distraction.”
“Why me?” Fon asked with a pout, hands on her hips.
The human raised her eyebrows at the aziza. “You’re the one who can fly.”
Chapter 4
Zala
“That thing is climbing to the crow’s nest!” Zala shouted in the tongue of the Vaaji as she hid from the rush of battle behind a set of crates.
Fon flew up the length of the mainmast, weaving through the air to make herself a harder target. When the first soldier pointed up toward the aziza, Zala grinned. She cupped her hands around her mouth and added, “What are you waiting for! Bring it down!”
At the top of the stern deck a score of Vaaji soldiers surrounded Jelani. The captain stood beside Jelani, his large gut and thick, white beard drenched in sweat. Though it was hard to tell from Zala’s distance, she thought she made out six other crew members besides her husband and Kobi.
“Move your asses!” she bellowed again.
At Zala’s third cry, at least a half-dozen of the Vaaji peeled off and gave chase up the ratlines. And in the next moment, another pirate went down. Now only five remained to support Jelani and Kobi. Zala dug her nails into her palm, her nerves spiking as she watched Fon fly higher and higher.
Come on, girl, you can do it.
As Fon reached the top, she caught the two archers perched there by surprise and stabbed each through their necks before they knew what was happening to them. Zala let out a breath of relief, and her eyes darted between the crow’s nest and the ship’s stern. Just a few more moments and this would all work out. It had to.
Fon started work on the rope itself, cutting with her dagger as fast as her tiny arms could move. When the pursuing soldiers were halfway up the ratlines, Zala lifted herself from her hiding place. “Crew of the Titan!” she shouted. “On me! Support to the stern!”
A few heads looked her way, though when they saw it was Zala, their only answers were scowls.
What is wrong with these dikala?
Most of the pirates turned back to the battle amidship, dismissing her cries. At least the fight had died down in favor of the pirates. But that just meant early looting and less support.
Zala furrowed her brow in disbelief that they’d let the captain die—that they’d let Jelani fend for himself. Then she shouted a second time, saying, “Your captain—our captain needs us!”
One head remained turned, tall, pointed ears silhouetted against the bright of the fog and the two half-moons behind it: Shomari, the pakka. He arched his feline back, and his nose turned up to the platforms above. After a few sniffs and a slight twitch of his furry ears, he went back to his looting. But the screams of Fon brought his ears up in attention again.
The first soldier had reached the aziza up in the crow’s nest. Fon tried to fly away as she wrestled the soldier, but the Vaaji held her wings pinned. Zala’s heart sank in her chest as she watched her friend struggle against the much larger man. Even if Zala sprang from her position behind the crates and somehow found supernatural speed to climb up to the crow’s nest herself, there was little she could do to help.
Shomari dropped his loot—a sack of Vaaji coffee beans by the looks of them—and climbed the ratlines with a balance only his cat-like agility could afford.
Thank the moons.
The pakka made his way into the crow’s nest hastily, somersaulting into the small space as though he were some nimble dancer from the Big Isle. Before the arc of his gymnastics was even complete, he stabbed the soldier neatly through his padding. The whole motion looked like one unbroken movement.
Zala let out a sigh of relief as she watched Shomari pull Fon from below the dead man’s body. Fon tapped at Shomari’s furry shoulder and pointed her dagger at the lines. The pakka gave her an affirmative salute, and they both cut swiftly through the rope.
“Thank you, Shomari,” Zala whispered to herself, not letting her mind wander to the worst-case scenario Fon had only barely avoided.
The ratline snapped free with a loud thwack. Fon and Shomari grabbed the end of the rope and threw it down to Zala below. The ratline mesh acted as a net, arcing over the charging soldiers’ heads. Before they knew it, they were captured like fish ripe for the taking. The soldiers did their best to throw the ropes over their heads, but Zala tugged at the end of the makeshift net and drew it low to the deck. She rolled a nearby barrel over the ends, weighing it down to prevent the Vaaji from escaping.
“Crew of the Titan!” Zala shouted again. “Now’s our chance. Attack!”
None turned this time. Not one. Were they so foolish? Precious moments passed, and more and more of the Vaaji worked free from the net.
A second bellow came from the group at the ship’s stern. Zala twisted to the sound and knew it was another pirate that had fallen. The voice was familiar, but it wasn’t Jelani’s. It didn’t mean he was safe though. There must have been only three or four crew members left among them.
A sickening feeling churned in Zala’s stomach. She was going to lose him. She should have secured the deck first, should have skipped the stupid bet with Mantu. But how could she know? The captain had said this was a merchant ship. It was supposed to be an easy take!
Then Shomari let out a roar only he could muster. “Well, what are you waiting for, dockrats? You think the Vaaji will die of natural causes? The woman said attack!”