Guardian's Rise (The Sons of Masguard, Book Two)

Chapter Ten

Lieutenant Ryder leaned on the rail, eyeing the growing tide with concern as the crew worked to clear the deck. Not only had the waterline reached the trees, its rise was increasing at an exponential rate. It wouldn’t be long before the whole of the island was submerged.

“How is he, Doctor?” she asked.

The elderly ringtail stood from her crouched position over Father Faiz and wiped her hands.

“Physically, he’s fine. Not a scratch on him,” she said, then shook her head and lowered her voice. “But he still isn’t speaking. I think the fight was as traumatic for him as it was for those of us watching. Be grateful you were unconscious.”

Ryder looked back at the silent priest.

He was sitting forward on a crate, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on the deck. He wore no expression.

“I’m not one for that kind of gratitude, Doctor,” Ryder said.

“Lieutenant?” Trimble approached from behind. “The ship is mostly in order. It’s a sturdy float, for its size. We should be able to make the return trip in a fraction of the time. Barring any complications, that is.”

“There’s the rub.” The doctor sighed and walked away.

“Thank you, Trimble, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. This vessel isn’t budging until we’ve given the captain every chance to return.”

“If I may ask, sirs?” Ensign Wexler joined them. “Why aren’t we going in after them?”

Ryder looked down at him and swallowed. “Because our captain gave us an order. And because we trust him to make the right call, however difficult it may be for us to understand it.”

Wexler was nodding in reluctant agreement when Ryder noticed a twitch in Faiz’s ears. Though the warrior priest did not move otherwise, he seemed to be listening to something deep within the trees, something that even her keen hearing could not yet detect. She walked along the rail, following his attentiveness through the growing darkness until she saw movement in the underbrush of the nearest hill.

“Is it the captain?” Trimble asked, hopeful.

Ryder squinted at the distant shadows, muscles tensing as recognition struck. “No, Lieutenant. It isn’t. Gun crews to the cannons! All hands take arms and bring this ship around now!” 

                                                       ≈

“Did we kill it?” McKinley stared into the darkness below, trying to make out a form in the deep.

Hamara shook her tattooed head. “It cannot die. The children of the World Serpent are cursed with eternal life.”

“Children?” the Marauder winced. “That was a child? Here’s hoping we never have to meet its mommy. Can we get out of here now?”

“No, we can’t,” Marshall replied.

“Look, I know you were hoping for your scepter or whatever. But, if you hadn’t noticed, this place is coming down around our furry ears. And if you’ll take a second to use them, you’ll hear the distinct sound of rushing current coming at us from below. These caverns are flooding, and fast. We don’t exactly have the luxury of time.”

“I mean,” Marshall corrected. “That we can’t get out of here at all. The collapse of the statues sealed all of the escape tunnels.”

McKinley frowned. “Oh. That’s bad.”

“Indeed.” The naval captain leapt onto the half wall, seemingly searching for something in the water below. “But there may be another way.”