protected by the king of Tyr's
magic-but only if his counterattacks don't interfere.”
The shipfloater sent the message.
A moment later, Tithian and his officers watched as Fylo and his giants crashed into the
King's Lady.
Unhampered by any resistance from the ship, their charge hit with such force that it
ripped the foredeck off the rest of the ship. The ballistae discharged harmlessly and the
vats of Balkan fire toppled, instantly creating an inferno on the decks. Trailing long
tails of flame, sailors and dwarves leaped over the sides, their agonized screams falling
silent as they disappeared into the dust.
A burly man stepped toward Tithian, his silt-scarf hanging loosely around his neck. His
jaw was set, and his puffy cheeks were pale with the horror of what he had just witnessed.
“You said you'd save them!” he gasped.
“Come now,” Tithian replied. As he spoke, he turned his palm to the deck, using his body
to shield it from view as he drew the energy for a spell. “You heard me say that the
King's Lady
was lost. You knew I was lying to Captain Saba when I said I would protect him.”
“When I tossed Navarch Saanakal overboard, it seems I traded a coward for a liar,” growled
the first mate, stepping toward Tithian. “You said we were going to kill giants-not
protect yours!”
“This fleet has already killed more giants under me than it would have under Saanakal!”
With that, he collected a pinch of dust from the gunnel and threw it into the air. He
spoke his incantation, then the mate, officers, and the helmsman all dropped to the deck,
their eyes closed tight behind their dust-shields. Without a steady hand on the helm, the
ship veered toward the burning
King's Lady.
As the bowsprit of Tithian's schooner touched the blazing wreck, the ship's wizard leaped
off the bow. He flew a hundred yards in the direction of the island chain before a giant
swatted him down.
The jib sail of the
Silt Lion
burst into flames, and smoke began to roll over the main deck. Sailors and catapult slaves
alike cried out in alarm and looked up to see what was wrong, then the whole ship
shuddered as the bow crashed into the side of the
King's Lady.
Time to go," Tithian said.
The king drew the energy for another spell and used his magic to levitate himself. Taking
care to stay away from any giant that could bat him down, he drifted out over the stern.
Behind him, the
Silt Lion's
vats of Balican fire began to ignite, sending column after column of golden flame shooting
into the pearly sky. Within moments, the schooner's wreck could not be distinguished from
that of the
King's Lady.
Tithian quickly identified Fylo's distinctive form at the other end of the conflagration.
The giant stood near the detached bow of the
King's Lady,
the one piece of the ship that was not in flames, laughing in childish delight as he used
a yardarm to knock the last few survivors off the upended hull.
Tithian drifted forward through the smoke and haze. At the same time, the king took the
precaution of withdrawing a small glass rod from his satchel, but he did not fully prepare
the spell that would turn it into a lightning bolt. Until he learned how Fylo had come to
be a part of this ambush, and what had happened to Agis, he had no intention of killing
the giant.
Tithian stopped just out of Fylo's reach. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, yelling
to make himself heard across the distance.
The giant stepped away from the wreck, raising his yardarm to swing at the king. “Traitor!”
Tithian dodged back. The huge club sank into the silt with a muffled whump, raising a
curtain of pearly dust.
“Why are you attacking your friend?” the king asked, resisting the urge to cast his spell.
Fylo narrowed his eyes, gauging the distance to his target,
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