In the Claws of the Tiger (14 page)

It was upon him. At the last moment, Janik threw his body backward in the water, anticipating that the shark would aim for his wounded shoulder. The shark glided over him. Janik drove his sword upward, but without leverage in the water, he could only manage a glancing blow on the shark’s belly. It was enough to draw blood—and enough to drive the shark into a frenzy.

It circled back toward him quickly, its mouth open wide. Choosing his mark, Janik thrust his sword into the roof of its mouth. It was a good blow—Janik was pretty sure he hit the brain. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop the shark from closing its mouth around his forearm and raking his flesh with rows of teeth. It didn’t have the strength to hold on—or to bite through the bone—and Janik wrested his arm and his sword free. The blood—his and the shark’s—was blackening the water, and it was only a matter of time before more sharks came, probably accompanied by their sea devil masters.

Janik clumsily slid his sword into his belt and started to swim. He doubted he could reach the ship, but perhaps he could meet the launch before the sharks got him.

After several hard strokes, Janik looked behind him and saw the water churning with sharks in the place where he had killed the first one. Feeding on the dead, he supposed. He swam harder toward the hulking shadow of
Dayspring
, still far away. The salt water stung in the wounds on his shoulder and arm, and he knew he was leaving a trail in the water that the sharks could follow to food. But he could do nothing about that.

A dark shape suddenly stood out from the darkness of the surrounding water—a boat! A long rowboat, one of the
ship’s lifeboats, was creeping through the water in his direction, though at its current heading, it would pass him far to his left.

“Over here!” he called out, waving his arms over his head. With his right hand out of the water, he realized for the first time just how much blood he was losing. The boat changed its course slightly and sped up, heading directly toward him. He could see two oars working as fast as the sailors could row.

But not fast enough. One of the sharks disentangled itself from the churning frenzy. Janik could see its dorsal fin barely breaking the water behind him. He pulled out his sword, but his hand was stiff around the hilt and he was having a hard time focusing his eyes. He turned his back to the oncoming boat and drew a shaky breath before lowering himself under the water to meet the onrushing predator.

This shark was considerably larger than the one he’d killed before. He recognized it as a devil shark, named for the enlarged scales on its forehead and the leading edges of its fins, which gave it a sinister, almost fiendish appearance—and, appropriately, the creatures were often found in the company of the sahuagin. Janik fumbled with the sword in his hand, then shifted it to his left. The shark swam past Janik on the right. Janik turned to keep it in sight, and noticed that the rowboat had almost reached him. He felt a surge of hope even as his lungs cried out for air. He kicked himself to the surface, gasping.

“Janik!” Dania’s voice was close, but the shark was closer. It had completed a circle around him and turned inward. He felt it slam into him, but felt no tearing of teeth—either it had already eaten its fill, or it was softening him up. An instant later, a coil of rope splashed into the water beside him. He grabbed it with his right hand, keeping a firm grip
on his sword as he tried to wrap the rope firmly around his right arm.

As soon as she was sure he had the rope, Dania pulled it back into the boat, dragging Janik through the water like a fish on a line. Or like a baited hook, Janik thought grimly. As he started to move, the shark recognized the danger of losing its prey, and it lunged at him with its mouth wide open.

Carefully watching the shark’s approach, Janik planted a kick on its snout just as it was about to close its teeth on his legs. It veered sharply away, but immediately started circling back for another pass. Then Janik’s body slammed into the side of the boat. As Dania started hauling him up the side, he blacked out.

A soothing warmth washed over Janik’s left shoulder, his arms, and his legs. In those places, he felt stinging pain, or the memory of it, fading under the advancing warmth. The darkness cleared from his eyes and he realized he was lying flat on his back in the bottom of the rowboat, with Dania bending over him. Silver light glowed around her hands as she rested them on his shoulders. Two sailors, their muscled arms pumping steadily, were already rowing toward
Lyrandar Dayspring
.

“Thanks,” Janik said as his head cleared. “I was getting a little concerned.”

“That shark almost got you,” Dania said with a slight smile. “But after not speaking to you for three years, I’m not ready to give you to the Devourer.”

“I didn’t think you believed in the Devourer any more.”

Dania scowled. “Oh, don’t be an idiot, Janik,” she said. “I just saved your life. Don’t you think you could refrain from
provoking me—at least until we get back to the ship? I can still throw you back in, you know.”

“I’m sorry, Dania,” Janik said. He sat up weakly. “I am grateful, believe me.” Dania’s scowl melted and she smiled at him.

The boat rolled hard, and Janik and Dania were thrown to the port side. The sailor at starboard fumbled with his oar but held his position, while the man at port scrambled desperately to keep from tumbling overboard. Janik could feel something banging against the hull. He reached for his sword but it was not at his belt. Dania was on her feet, longsword in her hand and shield at the ready. The boat righted itself and they were thrown to starboard. Janik found his sword sliding across the bottom of the boat and grabbed it. Dania lost her footing and nearly fell into the water, but Janik caught hold of her with his left hand and pulled her down with him. The sailors kept their seats, but they looked around wildly, panic in their eyes.

“Something’s trying to capsize us,” Janik said. “We’ll do better to keep low in the boat.”

“We’ll do best if we stop the thing before it dumps us overboard,” Dania shot back, scrambling toward the port side, where they could hear the banging.

The boat rolled again and Janik slid to port. Dania leaped to the side of the boat in one big step, and at that instant a huge sea devil appeared over the side of the launch. Two muscular arms reached toward Dania, the webbed hands tipped with sharp claws easily capable of tearing through armor and flesh. Two more arms clutched the side of the boat, lifting the sahuagin up over the gunwale. It swung a foot into the boat and pulled its entire bulk over the side, throwing itself at Dania.

Dania and her attacker fell backward hard, landing against the opposite side of the boat. Janik barely managed to dodge out of their way, stabbing at the sea devil as it barreled past him with Dania caught in its four arms. He managed only a glancing blow against the thing’s tough scales. He was relieved to find that he had recovered the strength in his grip, thanks to Dania’s healing touch.

Dania was having trouble bringing her longsword to bear against the creature as it raked at her with all six limbs—its feet bore vicious claws as well. Janik moved in to distract it, looking for weak spots in its scaly hide, finally planting his blade where one of its lower arms met the thick torso. Janik drove his blade between the creature’s ribs. It howled in rage and pain and dropped Dania from its grasp, wheeling to face Janik.

“Prepare to meet the teeth of Shargon,” the creature spat in its own language.

“I have seen the Devourer’s teeth before,” Janik replied in the same tongue, “and always they have closed on empty water.” This was another of the ritualized exchanges that characterized sahuagin conversation, but Janik reflected on the truth of the boast even as he aimed his blade for another blow.

The sea devil was clearly surprised to hear the proper response from a human mouth, and it dropped its guard just for an instant. That instant was all Janik needed to plunge his blade into the creature’s eye. At the same moment, Dania’s sword came down hard on the sahuagin’s skull, and as Janik pulled his sword free, he felt it scrape against Dania’s blade. He shuddered as a wave of disgust washed over him, and he frowned at the sea devil as it fell toward him. He tried to step out of its path, but lost his footing in the wildly rocking boat
and landed hard on his seat. The sahuagin’s gory head landed in his lap with a wet splat.

“Dania, will you get this thing off me?” he said sickly.

“You never would have made it on the front lines, my friend,” Dania said as she sheathed her sword and bent down to grab one of the sea devil’s legs.

“Yes, we’ve established that many times over the past fifteen years,” Janik replied. “Ugh, look at this. It spilled its brains all over me.”

Dania smiled as she heaved the sahuagin overboard. “Why don’t you take a dip and rinse off?” The water churned with sharks swarming in to feed on the bloody corpse.

Janik gingerly got to his feet and noted with some satisfaction that the sailors at the oars wore looks of disgust like his own.
Lyrandar Dayspring
now loomed nearby, and he saw sailors on the deck above, lowering ropes to hoist the launch back aboard.

“Dania,” he said softly as the men on the launch tied the boat to the ropes dropped from above.

“What?”

“I’m sorry for the things I said at dinner. I was needlessly harsh.”

“I let my temper get the better of me as well,” Dania said.

“Just like old times, eh?” Janik said with a smile.

“No, Janik, and it never will be.” Dania looked up at the ship, not returning Janik’s smile. “Too much has happened.”

Back on the ship, Dania roamed the deck, checking on the wounded. Janik trailed behind her, offering words of encouragement to the sailors. Auftane had already cared for many sailors but a few were beyond any help. Among the dead,
Janik spotted the first mate. He looked around for the captain and spotted him standing at the prow. Leaving Dania and Auftane to care for the wounded, he went to the captain.

The sparkling ring in the sky was reflected in the waves around them as a scintillating mosaic of light. The ship had resumed its course toward Xen’drik.

They stood in silence for a moment, then the captain glanced at Janik. “Glad to see you made it aboard,” he said quietly.

“Thank you,” Janik said, looking at the dark water ahead. “It was a devastating attack.”

“Yes,” Avaen replied, “but not unexpected. And thanks to you and your friends, our losses were far less than they might have been. I am grateful.”

“I noticed your first mate among them.”

“Eisha, yes.” The captain’s voice was flat. “She was a good first mate.”

“I …” Janik hesitated, unsure whether to press the point, but decided to forge ahead. “I get the sense she was more than that.”

“She was a good friend, too. And—” His voice broke, and he paused for a moment, wrestling his emotions back under control. “And we were lovers once. Like you and Dania, I suspect.”

“Yes, briefly. An ill-fated affair.” Janik scowled. “We should have just been friends.”

Avaen nodded slowly, staring blindly ahead.

They stared together into the night as the rest of the crew finished gathering the bodies of the fallen and tending the wounded, then finally returned to their posts or their bunks. The quiet of the ocean, filled only with the sounds of creaking ropes and splashing waves, settled around them again.
Three moons set behind the western sea, and the eastern sky was beginning to brighten before Avaen finally clapped Janik on the shoulder and shuffled back to the wheelhouse to prepare for a day of sailing.