Of Heroes and Happenings

Rowan, Chapter 3

Rowan's first sight of the ship they were to attack took her breath away. The mainmast had a spiral of iron that ran from the deck to a crescent moon that adorned the top, above the crow's nest. Two, shorter, lesser masts stood before and behind the main, each similarly adorned or once had been.

The wyvern under Trice had despoiled both masts, fore and aft, of canvas and rigging, breaking the ornamentation in the process. Clearly ready for the attack, the mainsails were furled tightly. Rowan guessed that the crew had dropped the sails in order to protect them at the first sign of trouble.

Dropped by the other wyvern, a sailor hit the water in a clean dive and swam for the ship. As if in response, the ship came about toward him, affording Rowan a view of the figurehead attached to the bowsprit. Two crescent moons, one the mirror image of the other, joined at the curve, the forward one bleached white by the waves while the other, rear-facing crescent had been blackened with tar to be a shadow of the other. The ship herself was painted red, as if the ship were made entirely of the finest mahogany, save her oaken masts.

With the sails unfurled, Rowan had always thought it resembled the last vestiges of a sunset. She knew the ship, of course. The Tidewind's Fortune had berthed in the same harbors as the Moonshadow Crescent on numerous occasions.

The wyvern beneath her swooped low to the waves and made for the stern. Ready your spear! The command was delivered with a mental image of that very spear jammed between the rudder and its housing in order to prevent the rudder from straightening. Held thus, the rudder would then keep the ship's course on a perpetual curve.

The winged beast and rider drew even with the rudder, and Rowan moved to obey her orders. Just before she was to throw her spear, the rudder straightened. Rowan had time to react, but she didn't bother to halt her throw. She couldn't help the surge of relief she felt when the spear jammed itself into the hull, parallel to the rudder and prevented it from turning. Rowan did her best to stifle the hope that the Moonshadow Crescent could outrun Omaira.

Foolish Morsel! The wyvern's rage was nearly audible.

"I have never thrown a spear before!" Rowan spoke the words aloud, for only the wyvern below her to hear.

We need to retrieve it and try again, useless Morsel! The wyvern banked upward in order to wheel about for another attempt. Its abrupt change in direction and steep ascent put Rowan off-balance and made her loosen her grip on an already-precarious perch. As they cleared the stern of the ship, an unnatural gust of wind came from the ship itself and sent the wyvern tumbling. Rowan lost her grip entirely as the wyvern rolled upside down briefly.

As she plummeted toward the ocean below, a flash of memory overtook Rowan, of jumping from the decks of the Tradewind's Fortune on hot summer days. Instinctively, Rowan took a deep breath as her body moved into the proper dive position; feet crossed for stability, arms crossed, hands both supporting the head and protecting the eardrums from rupture. She broke the surface of the water and kicked her feet hard, fighting to halt her downward motion so she could swim back to the surface.

As her descent slowed, Rowan landed against something semi-solid. She kicked off, swam upward a few feet, broke the surface, and hit her head against a familiar surface. Stop struggling, a familiar presence suggested. I'll spit you upward once you're near enough for me to get you in the air.

"Omaira?" Rowan realized she was in his extremely large mouth.

Who else? Now, draw a breath and go fix your mess. It sounded irritated, but only mildly so. I know what Captain plans for you, Kid. If you fail, make it into the water. You will remain with me, and I will protect you.