Song of Ramona (Book #1 in Pirates of the Cloudsea Trilogy) (Teaser)

III. A Dangerous Friend

I perceived my attacker to be moving much like a man underwater. The priests of Throm tell us that when we die, our spirits go on an epic journey before they reach the World After. There is a maze, a trial, a loved one serving as a guide, and a fountain of black wine that one must drink to pass on. I was ready to embark. May the next world be kinder than this place of pain and fragile flesh.

I was nearly ready, when in a fraction of the second before my assailant could kill me, another sword point erupted out from his belly. He coughed up bloody spittle that dappled my face. Our eyes locked in the utmost mortification.

"Pete," he cried one last time before falling to his knees.

On the other end of that sword was my Hawk, Thomas Baker, and from his narrow-eyed sneer, I could tell he was pissed. Tossing his knot of dreadlocks over his shoulder, he moved the dying man aside.

"There's my bloody shadow," he muttered. He pressed his boot between the dead man's shoulder blades as he ripped out his sword, spraying blood across our shins. "I've told you a hundred times. Keep close; don't die. It's simple, Clikk."

An adept crewman with some savvy of piloting, Baker had taught me everything I knew about piracy. He was the third tallest brute on our ship, a good friend to have amongst pirates, especially for a scrawny creature like myself. He stayed swarthy, no matter how much sun he got, and he never wore his flight cap, but instead let the wind toss his dreadlocks.

All across the deck, our victims dropped their weapons and fell to their knees in surrender. We'd cut down enough of them. I stared at the man who had nearly been my demise. He lay just a few feet from his friend. Seeing them, I could not help but feel my heart swell with pity.

"Where were you?" asked Baker, sliding a red, silk scarf down the length of his blade. "I had to put on my own gear."

"Gods forbid."

"See what I've done in my grief." Opening his flight jacket, he showed me that instead of buckling the leather ends of his holsters, he had knotted them up.

"Sorry," I said. "Jasper and Pierce grabbed me, had a bit of fun."

"Trying to replace me already? I see how it is. You won't be a Fledgling much longer. Don't need me holding you back." He cracked a smile and tousled my flight cap askew. I liked it when he smiled, even when he vexed me. Baker's most distinguishing feature was a silver fang that glistened in the sun.

"Prig." I knocked his arm and fixed my cap.

"What's wrong with you, Clikk? Life flash before your eyes?"

"Them two were friends," I said, ticking my head to indicate the fallen. "Maybe even brothers by the looks of them."

Baker folded his arms, glancing between the two. "Could have been us," he returned bluntly. "Get back in your skin, Fledgling. They're dead. We're alive. That's all you need to think about."

He navigated through the crowd to get closer to the quarterdeck, where the two captains were engaged in a duel. No man alive could best our captain with a sword, but he certainly enjoyed letting them try. One feint and a pirouette later, Dirk had his blade pressed against the other captain's neck.

This was the part where he'd cut his throat, the part I didn't need to see. I could stand the sight of blood, guts, and brains, but something about the slitting of a man's throat made my whole body cringe.

I found an open water cask, dipped my cupped hands, and drank, rubbing the soot and gunpowder from my eyes.

Then came a sputtering cry. Dirk shoved their man overboard. Even though I didn't watch, the sound turned my stomach, and I could envision his neck opening up in the sky and spilling a trail of radiant, red blood.