Kari's Reckoning (The Rose Shield Book 4) by Peach D. Wallace

Author:Peach, D. Wallace [Peach, D. Wallace]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Kari's Reckoning
Publisher: D. Wallace Peach
Published: 2017-04-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

Kadan crossed the deck to the rail, heading for the gangplank, uncertain whether to wait for Vianne or flee. Stress frayed his nerves, and he questioned all he’d witnessed and felt. All of it—the strained negotiations, the drownings, Gannon’s sacrifice, Dalcoran’s presence, Vianne’s peculiar betrayal, and Catling’s shrewd calculations—it clogged his head, a puzzle making no sense.

He caught a glimpse of Jagur on a ferry at the end of the next pier. Two soaking crewmen had dragged Gannon’s body aboard. Whitt, with Rose’s arms wrapped around his neck in a stranglehold, stepped from the pier to the deck. They waited for him and for Vianne.

The door to the aftcastle opened, and instead of Vianne, Catling staggered into the sunlight. Her legs appeared wooden, her eyes blind and blinking. He would have sworn she’d fallen into a trance, except she panted for breath. All at once, he understood what she’d done. She’d left Vianne, Dalcoran, and the Shiplord like those in the fane, all of them hollowed-out husks who would die within days.

As if nothing out of place had occurred, he strode back to her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her to the rail. “We’re jumping.” She gaped at him as he clutched her hand. They climbed and leapt. The brilliant delta water swallowed them whole.

Catling beside him, he burst to the surface and kicked off his boots. Shouting erupted on The Sea God’s deck, echoed by the ferry’s crew. “Swim,” he yelled to her. She nodded, awakened by the salty chill.

The ferry, already loose of the pier, shoved off. The captain shouted orders, and the oars dipped, straightening the vessel and fleeing the colossal ship’s shadow. The Slipsilver’s current dragged Kadan and Catling north, and the ferry plowed through the luminescence, intending to intercept them before the river swept them to sea. Crossbow bolts plunged into the delta. The ferry retreated, allowing the current to carry it toward the breakwater, the captain bellowing warnings. Three rivermasters with coiled ropes prepared to harness waterdragons. Kadan glanced behind him at the Cull Tarr jacks running for their swift cutters and sleek carvirs.

A black bolt sliced between them and Catling gasped. Then the current swelled and picked up speed as if hurrying their escape. He glanced at Catling, her eyes wide with fear. The water lifted beneath her, and she clutched his hand, dragging him with her. They hurtled toward the ferry. At the last moment, the wave parted around the boat, thrusting them against the hull. Two crewmen grabbed his arms and heaved him onto the deck while Jagur hoisted Catling up, dripping and pale.

“Vianne?” the commander asked.

Catling stared at him, and Kadan rested a hand on his arm. “The Shiplord.”

“They’re all dead,” Catling murmured. Jagur paled, seemed to convulse as if her words were darts thrust between his ribs. He staggered to the ferry’s stern and sank to a bench, forehead resting in the palm of his hand.

Kadan couldn’t spare the time to deal with the grief and shoved it into the corner of this heart.

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