Behind them, the Ship of the Gods increased the volume of smoke pouring out of the volcano. Thunder rent the air, slamming hammer-like blows that took away all other sounds. The concussions reached Jherek, rocking him in the rigging.
In the next instant, the volcano spat flames and burning rock into the air. They spread like fireworks, coloring the blue sky and blue-green water with reds and yellows. The sky faded, quickly lost in the thick black smoke that streamed from the volcano. Around the island where it projected above the waterline, the ocean boiled.
Even as another explosion rocked the area, throwing more burning debris skyward, the first of it started descending. Huge chunks of flaming rock slammed against the ocean, sending up twisting spirals of water. Other rocks hammered against Black Champion's deck, shattering and skittering crazily when they didn't penetrate. More of the barrage knocked holes in the deck.
The falling rock smashed through the sails and set them afire in places. Two men went down, battered by the rock and sprawling out dead or unconscious.
Sabyna went to the aid of one sailor, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to the relative safety provided by the prow castle. Glawinn joined her, holding his shield up over them and protecting her and the sailor. A large rock rolling in yellow flames and trailing smoke struck the shield but the paladin's strength held and it flew away in fragments.
Black Champion wallowed through another trough, but her gait wasn't as sure. She turned crossways, leaning hard over to port. She stuttered as she went over, loose and not working with the pull of the wind powering her.
Jherek glanced back at the wheel. The pilot lay stretched out on the deck, blood staining the wood around him and a gaping hole in his chest. Without a steady hand at the wheel, the young sailor knew Black Champion would be at the mercy of the cruel sea stirred by the raging volcano. He considered dropping to the deck and trying to get back to the wheel but he knew he'd never get there in time.
While he hung in the upper rigging, one of the large flaming boulders rolled into view without warning. He heard the sizzling heat of the boulder as it passed ponderously by.
Tumbling end over end, the boulder slammed into the mainmast only three or four feet up from the deck. The treated wood, hardened by processing and spells, shrieked as it exploded from the impact. The boulder sunk into the deck, burying itself in the wood and smoldering.
Sheared in two, the mast fell heavily to starboard, tangling itself in the suddenly slack lines of the rigging. Jherek fell with the slack, his fingers still hooked in the rigging. He hung on, watching the deck come up, knowing if he fell all the way and hit he'd be gravely injured if not killed outright. Even trying to angle for the sea beyond the sides of Black Champion would only leave him either in the water or at the mercy of Vurgrom's cutthroat pack.
When he hit the end of the slack hard enough to almost wrench his shoulders from their sockets, the young sailor said a brief prayer of thanks that he'd had the strength to hold on. He got his bearings quickly and started climbing through the rigging again, aiming for another section as the mainmast continued to roll around, threatening the other sails and rigging. He already felt Black Champion slowing, losing speed as readily as she lost her sails.
"Cut away!" Azla ordered from below.
Glancing down, his fingers cramped from the agony of keeping his hold and from the drop, Jherek saw the ship's crew lurch across the deck to follow their captain's command. Knives glinted in their fists as they sawed at the ropes holding the rigging. A small group of men lifted the broken end of the mast and guided it toward the port side of the ship, intending to slip it over the side.
The rigging Jherek had hold of alternately tightened and loosened as the crew cut the mast away. He kept climbing, knowing Azla wouldn't order them to stop while he got clear. Every heartbeat the broken mast stayed tangled up with the rest of the sails and rigging put Black Champion at risk.
He knew there wasn't enough time to go down, and the nearest rigging was still too far away to make the jump possible. Even as he realized he was running out of options, he spotted one of the smaller pirate ships racing up on them from starboard.
" 'Ware the ship!" Jherek called out in warning, listening as Black Champion's surviving crew rapidly took up the cry.
But the warning came too late. Pirate bowmen let fly and arrows found targets among Azla's crew. The second volley that raked the deck had fire arrows among them that started blazes in a handful of areas in the deck and in the surviving sails.
Jherek positioned himself at the edge of the sagging rigging, feeling Black Champion foundering beneath him. The ship turned sideways, floating loosely with no hand at the wheel. In the next instant, the ship heeled over the top of a deep trough stirred up by the exploding volcano. Her masts dipped, raking the tips through the advancing wave curling over to replace the trough.
Water swamped Black Champion's deck, washing away at least two screaming sailors. Jherek felt certain the ship was going to disappear beneath the waves as well.
T'Kalah stood on the ridge overlooking Vahaxtyl and stared in disbelief as heat washed over him. Red-hot lava burst from the Ship of the Gods to consume the city where he'd been born, fought, and lived. It flowed, a heavier liquid than the sea around it, and settled over the city. The lava was tens of feet thick, perhaps even hundreds.
The extrusion kept coming, piling deeper. As the chill of the sea settled into the lava, it cooled and turned solid, becoming gray. Still more flowed from the broken mouth.
Currents whipped across the seabed, ripping kelp free of the silt and sending it rushing away. T'Kalah stood against it, battered unmercifully, seeing if it meant to take his life as well. He embraced it, knowing if it didn't kill him it would only make him stronger.
XXVII
1 Flamerule, the Year of the Gauntlet
Miraculously, Black Champion caught a gust of wind that righted her long enough to pull out of the downward plunge the caravel had taken in front of an approaching wall of water. Jherek held onto the rigging as the wave overtook the ship. The caravel shuddered when the wave slammed into her, twisting violently. Men's screams echoed over the crashing thunder of the impact. Azla snarled orders, trying desperately to rally her crew to meet the challenge of the pirate vessel that stalked them so easily now that Black Champion had lost over a third of her sails.
A ragged line formed along the starboard side. Only three men had bows and they struggled to bring their weapons to bear while trying to hold onto the railing as well. A curling wave peaked and raked brine fingers over them, tearing one of the bowmen from his feet even as he loosed a shaft. The cascade of water shoved the sailor across the deck and hammered him up against the stern castle then carried him on.
Only Glawinn's quick grab and strength prevented the man from being washed overboard.
The salt spray from the waves crashing into Black Champion drenched Jherek and burned his eyes. The rough rope of the rigging sawed into his fingers and felt slick and unsure at the same time as it sagged.
Thankfully, the high waves smashed against the pirate vessel as well, stripping control from her for a time. Azla continued calling orders as she took up her own bow. She put a shaft to the string and threw a leg over the railing, threading it into the railing with her foot braced to hold her steady. Black Champion rode high on the next wave, towering over her pursuer. In that time, the half-elf sea captain put two shafts through pirates.