Where Serpents Strike (Children of the Falls Vol. 1) (10 page)

“Faster!” bellowed a bearded captain to his
rowers. “Heave, heave, heave!”

Two black vipers ran to the end of the dock
and jumped on board the ship, but their lives came to a devastating
end when they ran headlong into Stoneman. The muscle bound soldier
of the King’s Shield plowed into them like a bull, stabbing each
through the chest with a wide dagger. He lifted them off their feet
and thrust their bodies overboard.

“Lia!” came the scream of Dana through
desperate tears.

Brayden ran up onto the back of the ship to
join his sister. She and Broderick were peering over the top of the
wooden railing at Lia. She had made it safely aboard the second
trade ship along with the mysterious bowman named Khile.

Brayden watched as long oars emerged from
the ship’s hull and pushed it out to sea.

“Lia!” Dana shouted.

Brayden put his hands on her shoulders.
“She’s safe. We’ll meet up with her on Efferous.”

After a quick headcount, Brayden estimated
that roughly fifty of the seventy refugees who had fled Aberdour
had made it onto one of the two ships.

Standing next to him, looking over the
ship’s railing, was Broderick. His eyes were glued to the massacre
happening on the pier, where black vipers cut down the last of the
fleeing citizens. Swords cut through flesh, arrows pierced chests,
and legs, and necks. The fishermen put up a decent fight, but only
until the forces of the enemy overwhelmed them.

“Don’t watch,” Brayden said. “There’s
nothing we can do.” He tried to pry Broderick away, but he wouldn’t
move. His brother watched the slaughter, his eyes unblinking, until
the scene was too far away to see.

Brayden looked over at the second vessel
trailing behind them to the north. He saw Lia leaning on the
railing, pinning after them. He lifted an open hand in her
direction, trying to reassure her. They would be reunited soon. It
wouldn’t be long, he knew, a day or so.

He sat down next to Dana, shivering as the
cold ocean wind blew over them.

Khalous stomped up onto the deck looking
frayed and dour. “Best get below,” he said. He gazed into the winds
that blew his silver hair almost straight back. “There’s a storm
ahead.”

She tried not to think about the sounds of
the dogs, their snarling and barking, but the awful wails of the
children who were attacked kept echoing in Lia’s head. Hugging her
knees on the floor of the trade ship, she kept her head low so that
no one would see her uncontrollable sobs of terror and grief.

In one day she had lost more than she ever
knew she had. She could still smell the hay in the barn of Thomas
and Abigail, feel the soft coats of their horses. She could still
hear her father’s laughter echoing through the halls of Aberdour’s
castle, and her mother’s stew, seasoned with garlic and salt, so
hot on her tongue. Brynlee’s warm embrace. The patter of Scarlett’s
feet.

She flinched when Khile slid down next to
her. He put one arm across her back. She would’ve shied away had
she not been so cold. Instead she leaned into him, hoping he would
put his other arm around her, which he did. She lay there for
several moments, head buried out of sight, snuggled into the arms
of a stranger who, at present, was her only friend.

Across from her came the whimpering of a
little girl. She looked up to see a girl about Brynlee’s age,
nursing a bloody cut on her forehead while she cried next to a
young woman.

“There, there,” the woman cooed. “It’s all
right.”

There were about twenty-five other people
crowded onto the deck of the ship, Lia noticed, clinging to each
other for warmth and security. Most of them were children, but
there were a few adults, two nuns and two priests.

Khile nudged her with his elbow.

“How are you holding up, kid?” he asked.

“My name is Lia,” she said. “And I’m not a
kid.”

“Fair enough.”

She kept her head down, trying to seem calm
as she picked at a fraying thread on the dark green sleeve of her
tunic.

“Where did you learn to use a bow like
that?” she asked.

Khile hesitated, thinking. “We all have to
be good at something, I suppose.”

His answer didn’t satisfy her, but she could
tell he wasn’t going to say anything more about it. Not now
anyway.

She pointed to the shackles on his feet,
both of which bore one link from the chain that used to join them.
“And those?”

He clicked them together like he found them
amusing. “Those are for the things I’m not so good at.”

She looked at him, irritated by his
ambiguity. “Very well. Keep your secrets.”

He raised an impenitent eyebrow at her. “If
you wanted to get some sleep now would be a good time. We’ll be on
Efferous by morning.”

His words were a clear dismissal of her
questions, but she didn’t care. Now that he mentioned it, she did
feel exhausted, physically and emotionally, but she knew she’d find
no rest right now. Every time she shut her eyes she saw wild dogs
with scruffy fur coming after her. When she succeeded in pushing
those thoughts away her mind conjured visions of Brynlee and
Scarlett. What torment were they enduring at the hands of the black
vipers?

A strong wave rocked the vessel. From the
forward deck came some indiscernible shouts from the captain, which
prompted crewmen to hurry about the ship, yanking on weather worn
ropes and rickety pulleys. Lia understood none of it, but after a
second wave hit the ship, sending a spray of water up over the
side, she knew that something was wrong.

She stood with Khile and scanned their
surroundings. Behind them lay nothing but dark blue water and a red
sunset. Ahead of them, however, in the slate-colored air to the
east, dazzling forks of lightning snaked through the sky,
illuminating bleary sheets of oncoming rain.

The ship dipped low and rose up on a high
wave. Lia lost her footing and tumbled back into the side rail. It
struck her hard across the back, knocking the wind out of her
lungs.

“Hang on to something!” came a shout, but
from where she couldn’t tell.

Khile grabbed her, pulled her down, and
flatted them onto the deck.

The ship trembled. The sails lurched
forward. Lia heard people screaming all around her, a sound that
was soon overpowered by the deep groaning of the ship’s massive
wooden beams.

Her stomach hurt, and though she wasn’t
gasping anymore, it still felt as though she couldn’t get her
breath back, or that it had returned but badly out of rhythm.

Lia and Khile slid across the deck as the
ship pitched to one side from the impact of a massive, immoveable
object. Or was it another, even stronger wave? Crewmen fell over,
one of the ropes snapped, and the ship moaned like a massive beast
lamenting a fatal wound.

A sailor thumped down the steps next to Lia
and shouted up toward the captain. “Caught us in the port side,” he
said. “She’s taking on water.”

A new fear flooded into Lia’s gut. “Are we
going to sink?” she asked.

Khile’s reply was honest. “Maybe.”

The violent waves continued to push the ship
around while the ferocious winds pelted the sails and whipped the
decks with rain.

They were sailing the Gulf of Black Rock,
also known as The Shallow Sea. Living in Aberdour, a city that
relied on the nearby fish supply for food, Lia had heard her share
of stories about the shallow waters of the gulf. The voyage from
Edhen to the neighboring continent of Efferous wasn’t a long one, a
couple of days tops, but travelers had to carefully plan the trip
before setting out lest they get caught in hard winds and bashed
against the rocks. For the refugees of Aberdour there had been no
time for such planning.

“Stay close to me,” Khile said, but he
didn’t need to tell her. When the ship pitched again Lia’s fists
clenched onto his shirt.

The howling winds grew in intensity. More
ropes snapped, sending heavy blocks of rigging whipping over the
heads of the huddling crowd. A sail tore in half, and when the ship
struck its second rock one of the masts snapped at its halfway
point. The massive beam crashed to the deck, crushing a man at the
pelvis and striking several others.

Lia’s entire body cringed as a rush of cold
water swept over her.

“Stay down!” Khile shouted above the chaos.
“Don’t move until I say.”

His hands grabbed at her calves, searching
for her feet where he tore her shoes off. In one terrifying moment
it occurred to Lia that he was preparing her for the water. The
ship was going down.

Lia remembered that Khile still had broken
shackles around his ankles. She wondered how much they would weigh
him down.

“Abandon ship!” the captain yelled.
“Abandon—”

Lia looked at him just as a swirling mess of
rigging caught him in the face and flung him over the edge of the
starboard bow.

The ship bellowed again. Wooden beams split.
The railing on the port side broke in half and two children, a boy
and a girl, tumbled overboard with their father, their screams lost
in the savage wind.

Lia trembled with panic, but then came the
low voice of Khile in her ear, calm and reassuring. “Steady.” He
sounded unfazed, almost serene, as if he knew exactly what was
going to happen next. She could feel his strong arm around her
torso, holding her in place on the deck of the ship. She felt safe
with him, which was ironic, she thought, considering she knew next
to nothing about him.

“When you hit the water, don’t struggle,”
Khile said.

A few more tumultuous moments passed as the
ship took a beating in a forest of jagged rocks and relentless
ocean waves. The hull split in half with a sonorous crack. The bow
and masts capsized. The aft section broke apart and was swallowed
by the sea.

Lia felt her body shifting upside down
before she fell free from the floorboards.

“Don’t struggle,” Khile said. “Deep breath
now!”

And then she went under. Cold and silence
enveloped her. At first Lia flailed, trying to right herself, but
it was impossible to tell which way was up. Then she remembered
what Khile had said, and when she felt his strong arm still
clutching her around the waist she forced herself to relax.

A moment passed and Lia wondered why she had
such faith in this man, this prisoner of somewhere. What awful
deeds had he done? What more awful things had he done to escape?
Right now, in this moment, she didn’t care. This man, whoever he
was or whoever he used to be, was her best chance of survival.

Lia broke through the surface of the water
and gasped. The salt and wind stung her eyes. Through blurry lashes
she caught glimpses of the stormy evening sky, flashes of
lightning, wild waves spewing white foam, and pieces of the
shattered vessel being tossed about on the sea.

She noticed Khile clinging to the lip of a
broken section of flooring.

“Come here,” he said.

She paddled her way to the wood where he
helped her climb on top.

“Hang on tight!” he said.

Wind and rain lashed at them from all
sides.

There were screams in the distance from
those who couldn’t swim, those who had suffered injuries, and those
who had been separated from their loved ones. Lia wished she could
shut her ears as easily as she could her eyes, but with her
knuckles going white on the corners of the wood she had no choice
but to listen to every unanswered plea for help.

Lia looked at Khile floating in the water
next to her when she saw a huge wooden beam rush up from the
ocean’s depths and surge toward them.

“Khile look out!” she yelled.

He looked back and ducked just in time to
avoid the worst of the blow, but the massive limb still struck them
both, tipping Lia off the floor section and plunging her into the
dark black depths.

Under the water Lia tossed and turned, her
arms and legs knocking against pieces of the ship as she were
thrashed about. When she resurfaced again she took a strike to the
forehead from something large and heavy. It plunged her back down
again.

Her head seemed to drain, throbbing
unpleasantly. The world didn’t quite go dark, but patterned shadows
swarmed around her, and she was dimly aware of movement to her
right. A strong hand, cold and wet and firm, latched onto her and
lifted her up out of the nothingness below.

“Up you get!” Khile said.

Her fingers brushed something to her
left—wooden boards—and she grabbed onto it and pulled herself up,
her lungs heaving for air.

“T–thank y–you,” she muttered, her lips
shivering.

There was no response.

Lia glanced over her shoulder to find Khile.
He was gone. Frantic, she looked around, calling, “Khile?” She saw
nothing on the water’s surface except large splinters of wood.

“Khile!” She paddled along the water,
calling his name.

Feeling as though she had lost her one last
friend, Lia screamed in anger and terror. She gripped the wooden
board, riding the waves up and down and floating off to nowhere.
Her scream, so loud it hurt her throat, could barely be heard above
the rush of waves pounding down upon her.

Khile popped up behind her, shouting in
agony to the sky above. He pounded the water with his open hands
and fell under again.

“No!” Lia cried.

She paddled toward him, hands fishing around
in the waves for something of his to grab onto. He surfaced again
right in front of her and she latched onto the back of his shirt.
For some reason he couldn’t keep himself up and when he went under
again he almost pulled her off the wood. Lia held on, not willing
to let go of her best chance of surviving the storm. Mustering
strength from deep within her already tired muscles, she pulled
Khile up above the surface. He gasped, flailed, and grabbed onto
the wood. His teeth were clenched and his eyes squeezed shut in an
unmistakable mask of pain.