The Burning White (Lightbringer #5) - Brent Weeks Page 0,453

Blood Robes had done to the city. Smoky plumes rose from numerous areas, but Karris had stockpiled water and firefighting supplies, and organized neighborhood teams, and it seemed those fires weren’t spreading. The rattle of muskets was still constant, sometimes in volleys, but more often in crackles around the entire island. Few of the cannons were firing at this hour. Most had either been silenced or were waiting for the dawn to better reveal their targets.

The superviolet, the blue, the yellow, and the green bane had been destroyed. As far as he could see, the rest were still afloat. He didn’t want to think what that probably meant for Ferkudi and Ben-hadad. He wanted to rejoin the fight, but he knew Commander Fisk and Tisis weren’t going to let him do that. Probably they wouldn’t have let him fight even if he started turning cartwheels. But they were right, he was in no shape for any of that. He was useless.

It was not a good feeling.

Now, what was that voice he’d imagined?

“What was that?” Tisis asked.

“What?”

“In the water!”

But whatever it had been, Kip missed it—and turned his aching head and burning eyes as far as possible while doing so. He immediately regretted the action. All right, definitely not in any state to fight. He might as well volunteer to go fall on an enemy’s spear.

“It went right past the Lily’s Stem,” Tisis said. “Here I was about to suggest we get back to the Chromeria to be safer, but . . . if that thing hadn’t turned it could’ve taken out the bridge without even noticing.”

“A sea demon?” Kip asked.

Then he heard a throaty boom of some huge cannon and turned. Few other cannons were firing now, and none sounded like that.

“What was that?” Tisis said. “I think I know that gun. Orholam’s beard, is that The Compelling Argument?”

“The what?”

“My sister tried to buy it off a merchant Phineas something maybe? He wouldn’t sell, and said he’d never make its like again. Swore it was destined for someone else, but demonstrated it for her to try to drum up other business.”

Kip could only see a wisp of smoke in the air in the direction he’d heard the blast. Sometimes cannoneers wrapped burning sackcloth around a shell to be able to watch its trajectory. In a few more moments, he was rewarded with another shot, arcing identically to the first, to thud into the sub-red bane.

Commander Fisk had a long-lens to his eye. He handed it to Kip with an odd look. “Please tell me I’m not crazy.”

In the half-light, though, it was hard to find anything.

“Find the old Tyrean embassy. Couple points right of it, halfway out in the bay,” Fisk said.

“Where’s his ship?” Kip asked. For in the water, there appeared to be a ship’s square forecastle, moving at speed, undulating, floating without the advantage of a ship. A man danced to an inaudible beat, with hot points of light burning in his beard as he loaded a huge cannon all by himself.

“Gunner?” Kip said. What was that forecastle resting on?

Gunner fired again, then jumped up on the barrel of his big cannon and danced from one foot to the other, eyes straining as if waiting for something. He pumped his arm as if successful, though at what, Kip had no idea.

A moment later, the entire sub-red bane exploded. Light flashed over the islands and a cloud mushroomed in the early morning, smoke rolling in on itself.

“Did he just—?” Tisis asked.

“He sure seems to think so. And—is Gunner on top of a sea demon?!”

“Not sure,” Fisk said.

But whatever it was, Kip wasn’t going to see it, because Gunner and his floating forecastle disappeared behind the Tyrean embassy.

“Enough. This one is under my protection!” someone shouted.

Kip looked around. It was a familiar voice this time. But there was nothing to be seen. A feeling of foreboding came over him. “Rea?” he said. “Rea Siluz?”

Tisis looked at him. “Who?”

“Nothing,” Kip said. “Were you going to go wrap that wrist and get some poppy?”

When Aram had deflected her pistol during her attempt to shoot Zymun, he’d sprained her wrist. It was very swollen now, but she hadn’t wanted to leave Kip, hadn’t left all through long hours of the morning.

“Yeah.” But she looked at him oddly.

“Commander Fisk?” Kip said. “I’ll stay right here, promise.”

As they went, Kip walked to the very edge of the platform and craned his neck. A rain of burning embers was still drifting down from the sub-red bane—luckily