Hurry! Devlin cried. There is not much time.
"I am hurrying," Noleta argued.
She noticed Telop and River staring at her and shook her head. "I'm not talking to you." The elf nodded and watched for osprey. "Take the wheel," Noleta told River. River didn't move.
"Now!" Noleta roared. "I am talking to you!"
River grabbed the large ship's wheel.
Turn to the right! Devlin Morely ordered, letting himself be pulled back to his body and taking them with him.
"Hard to starboard," Noleta yelled. She held on to the plotting desk and stared hard into the Mist.
River struggled with the big wheel and Telop lent his strength, pulling it with difficulty to the right. Slowly, the ship came around and wind suddenly leaped into the sails.
27
“Wait!" Praz yelled, the green fog swirling around him. For a time, it was all he could see. He didn't even feel solid ground beneath his feet.
"Clanccccccy!"
There was no answer. The ring of steel on steel sounded faint and distant.
"Clancccccy!" Praz yelled, trying to stride forward out of the fog. If he moved at all, he didn't know it. Giving up, he stopped, and then felt the pitching ship's deck beneath his feet again.
The young warrior turned swiftly as the fog lifted, showing him all the corpses and the scattered birds swirling in the air.
Tracking movement from the corner of his eye, Praz ducked as an undead osprey swooped at his head. Before the bird could change direction, the young warrior swung his sword, twisting his hand so the flat of the blade smashed against the bird's body.
Bones cracked with sharp reports that punctuated the screaming, yelling, and cursing of the ship's crew.
Xarfax and his warriors sang a blessing song to their chosen god, and their swords moved in quick counterpoint to the melody.
Silently damning ill fortune and watching the green Mist slowly move away, Praz threw himself into the battle. He scooped up a parrying dagger from a dead sailor's hand and whirled to face another trio of attacking birds. The blades flashed into the air and three birds fell from the sky.
He stepped forward and kicked another osprey from a sailor who had fallen to the deck. The bird smashed against the main mast.
Praz spotted Telop and River working the wheel in the stern. Noleta stood beside them, bellowing directions and the birds seemed to be slowing down.
He looked down at his hands. It was like he could feel more power than ever flowing through him. It was just like in that strange land with Clancy, and somehow that's when he understood.
That was his home. That's why he felt so strong. And they knew him there. They were looking for him. That's why he'd been hidden. Mistress. Bo.
It all made sense now.
Praz looked up at the screaming osprey and felt energy crackle through him.
There's a reason, he thought. A reason I'm here.
He held up his sword and looked at the long, bloody blade.
And it involves killing.
Trained in the ways of all fighting styles, Praz-El lifted his sword and screamed as he ran forward into an osprey herd.
"Captain Jarrell," Noleta shouted down from the wheel.
"Aye," the captain replied.
"I need more sail."
Jarrell glanced up at the tatters streaming from the yardarms on all three masts. Several of the rigging lines had been snapped by the attacking birds and the sails were fluttering in the wind.
"To me!" Jarrell called. "I'll need everyone!"
Cutting down three final osprey, Praz looked to the sky. Seeing no more birds, he joined the captain with Xarfax and his warriors.
Jarrell led the way and, at the bow, he directed the men to pull on lines locked in place.
All of them gripped a line and started hauling. Immediately, a huge bolt of scarlet sail ballooned out into the air, catching the hard-driving wind that powered the ship. On the field of scarlet, a white unicorn pranced on two back legs.
"You've got the spinnaker now, Noleta," Jarrell yelled back. "It's the best we can do."
As the spinnaker filled out, it yanked the warship forward, and the sudden motion knocked Praz, Jarrell, and the rest of the men from their feet.
Praz got back up in wonder, knowing that the wind tearing across the Sea was anything but normal.
Suddenly, another ship appeared ahead of them in the Mist, running almost parallel to their own course.
Holding fast to the railing, Praz studied the cut and line.
It appeared to be a trading vessel, not a warship, but it was filled to overflowing with zombie warriors. Gaunt, hollow-eyed caricatures of men stood along the bow and railing in tattered armor and clothing, watching him.
"Hard to starboard!" Noleta shouted. "Hard to starboard!"
River and Telop threw themselves at the great ship's wheel and brought it to starboard. But their efforts were reduced by the surging pull of the spinnaker.
Crimson Raptor plunged through the waves, hammering the water so hard and so fast that the spray fell back down over the deck and drenched the ship's crew.
The zombie ship pulled into Raptor's path and smashed into her.
In the next instant, zombies threw grappling hooks and began securing themselves to the warship.
"Axes!" Jarrell shouted. "I need axes to port! Cleave those lines!"
But even as the remnants of the crew ran to comply, the ship of undead started to invade the Raptor.
^Devlin Morely watched the fierce battle taking place from Noleta's side.
"You led us to our deaths, old man," Noleta accused.