No one noticed Wyatt or Royce creeping in the shadows around the stern, seeking a clear place to jump. They crouched just above the captain’s cabin windows. Royce was about to leap when he spotted Thranic stepping out from the hold. The sentinel exited, a torch in hand, as if he merely wondered what all the noise was about. He led the seret to the main deck, where they quickly formed a wall around the sentinel. Seeing reinforcements, the Dacca rallied to an attack. They charged, only to die upon the serets’ swords. The Knights of Nyphron were neither sailors nor galley slaves. They knew the use of arms and how to hold formation.

Gripping his bag to his chest, Wyatt leapt from the ship.

“Royce!” Wyatt shouted from the sea below.

Royce watched, impressed by the knights’ courage and skill, as they battled the Dacca. It looked as if they might just turn the tide. Then Thranic threw his flaming brand into the ship’s hold. A rush of air sounded, as if the ship were inhaling a great breath. A roar followed. A deep, resonating growl shook the timber beneath Royce’s feet. Tongues of flame licked out of every hatch and porthole, the air filling with screams and cries. And in the flickering glow of burning wood and flesh, Royce saw the sentinel smile.

Hadrian and the tiny crew of the stolen Dacca ship had only just reached the starboard side of the Storm when the area grew bright. The Emerald Storm was ablaze. Within little more than a minute, the fire had enveloped the deck. Men in the rigging had no choice but to jump. From that height, their bodies hit the water with a cracking sound. The rigging ignited, ropes snapped, and yards broke free, falling like flaming tree trunks. The darkness of the starless sea fell away as the Emerald Storm became a floating bonfire. Those near the rail leapt into the sea. Screams, cries, and the crackle and hiss of fire filled the night.

Looking over the black water, whose surface was alive with wild reflections, Hadrian spied a bit of sandy hair and a dark uniform. “Mr. Wesley, grab on!” Hadrian called, throwing a rope.

Hearing his name, Wesley turned, his face showing the same dazed expression as a man waking from a dream until he spotted Hadrian reaching out. He took the rope thrown and was reeled in like a fish and hoisted on deck.

“Nice to have you aboard, sir,” Hadrian told him.

Wesley gasped for air and rolled over, vomiting seawater.

“From that, I assume you’re happy to be here.”

“Wyatt!”Poe shouted.

“Royce!” Hadrian called.

“Over there!” Derning said, pointing.

Poe turned the tiller and they sailed toward the sound of splashing.

“It’s Bernie and Staul,” Grady announced from where he stood on the bow.

The two wasted no time scrambling up the ship’s ropes.

“More splashing over there!” Davis pointed.