The Core (The Demon Cycle, Book 5) by Brett Peter V

Author:Brett, Peter V. [Brett, Peter V.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2017-09-27T16:00:00+00:00

Caring for poor Kaji throughout the night kept her from meditating, and even Ashia drifted off to sleep before dawn.

She woke shortly after sunrise with a jolt as something hit the ship, knocking her and Kaji out of the captain’s pillow bench. Instinctively she secured her son and hit the moving deck in a roll, assessing the threat.

The door to her room remained barred from the inside, and there was no scent of smoke or hint the ship was taking on water. But shouts of alarm echoed through the lower decks, along with sounds of battle.

They were under attack.

She danced as the deck rolled, keeping balance until the boat stabilized with a heavy thump. The porthole went dark.

Quickly she donned her disguise and got Kaji into her pack. He was pale and listless, needing rest and water, but there was no time for such things.

‘Be brave, my son,’ Ashia whispered.

‘Bave,’ Kaji agreed weakly.

Her spears were left hidden in his pack, but Ashia had other weapons – knives and throwing glass, along with other tools, subtler but no less lethal.

She opened the door to peek out, only to pull it quickly shut again as several of the dal’Sharum crew ran past. She could hear the commotion out on the main deck.

When the sailors passed, Ashia slipped out behind them. The walls and ceiling were too close and low for her to move with any cover, but a group of Sharum on the way to battle provided distraction enough for her to follow unnoticed.

There was open fighting on the deck. A Laktonian vessel had latched on to their ship, boarding them with perhaps fifty spear-wielding chin warriors. From the far rail, chin archers swept the deck, softening resistance.

Ashia glanced up, recognizing the vessel’s flag. It was a woman’s silhouette, looking off into the distance while a Sharum stood aflame at her back.

Sharum’s Lament, led by the infamous Laktonian pirate Captain Dehlia.

Ashia stayed just inside the cabin as the Sharum rushed out onto the deck and into the bowfire. Eyes scanning, it didn’t take long to find the pirate princess.

Dehlia wore a colourful scarf on the crown of her head, but it did nothing to hide her face, or her hair, spilling out to fall down her back in sandy waves.

She was flanked by two bodyguards, tall men with longer spears designed to help keep a protective zone around their mistress, who led the attack personally.

Dehlia skittered barefoot on the rolling deck, as balanced as on a training room floor. The blade of her short fencing spear was curved, allowing her to leave deep slashes on her opponents in close quarters. Her free hand held a similarly curved knife, blade glistening red. Two of the dal’Sharum crew already lay dead at her back.

Ashia knew now the tales of this woman were not exaggerated. If nothing, they failed to do justice. Her glory was boundless.

But Captain Rahvel, easily recognizable by the red night veil loose around his chin, was no less glorious. He batted away enemy fire with his shield and cut down every chin that drew near.

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