couldn’t see it, but by the way the men in front of him blanched, gasped and finally cried an alarm, it must have been quite the sight. Valek grinned. He loved a good surprise.
“Ambush!” one of the Storm Thieves yelled, drawing his sword.
The magician dropped her arms and turned. Valek loaded his blowpipe and aimed at the closest man. Then he shot the other two in rapid succession. He yanked his sword, then rushed them, exchanging a few parries before they wobbled as the sleeping potion took effect.
Yells sounded from the dock. Valek turned. Huge waves of water crashed over the pier, swamping his backup. Annika, Endre and two others had reached the gangplank, but the rest clung to the rope rails as whitecaps slammed into them. Valek had to neutralize the magician and stop the water attack.
Boots pounded on the deck. Four armed Storm Thieves rushed toward him and more poured from the wheelhouse. Valek gestured for Endre, Annika and the two with them to engage the four. He sheathed his sword and raced to the bow.
Two young men dropped from the rigging. Brandishing daggers, they blocked his path to the magician. Valek tucked the blowpipe into his pocket and drew a knife with a flourish to distract them while he palmed a couple darts. They hesitated for a second, glancing at each other.
“Come on, boys, let’s see what you can do,” Valek said, sliding his feet into a fighting stance.
The bigger of the two advanced. He held his weapon in his lead hand. Rookie. Valek used a roundhouse kick to knock the weapon from his opponent’s grasp, then he shuffled in closer, punched the teen in the solar plexus and pricked him with a dart. The boy fell back on his butt with an oomph.
Not waiting for his friend to gain his feet, the second teen charged Valek. The boy’s speed made up for his lack of finesse. They exchanged a few jabs and parries and Valek would have liked to test the extent of his opponent’s skills, but the sounds of fighting grew louder and, after a quick peek at the ruckus, he saw that Endre and the others were outnumbered.
Valek blocked the next jab with his left hand, grabbed the teen’s wrist, stepped back and as he yanked the Storm Thief toward him, Valek kneed him in the groin. The poor boy collapsed to the deck. Not very sporting, but time was critical.
When he neared the bow, another Storm Thief landed in front of him. Valek didn’t bother engaging him. He simply bowled the teen over, jabbed a dart into his neck and continued.
The magician faced him. A heavy stickiness engulfed him. The waves pelting the dock disappeared. Good. He guessed she couldn’t multitask. Valek waded through the magic, approaching her. Balls of water flew at him, but instead of slamming into him, they veered wide, missing him. She sucked in a breath of surprise. Fear soon followed. The young lady backed up and grabbed the railing.
Valek had a second to wonder what she planned before the ship lurched violently under his feet. The bubble of calm popped and the storm surged in. Yells and cries of alarm emanated from the fight on deck. He swayed for a moment, teetering off balance, but years of training kicked in and he adjusted to the motion. Smart move, sweetheart.
The magician clung to the wood rail as if her life depended on it. She stared at him with intense blue eyes. When he closed in, her magic disappeared,
She sank to her knees and said, “Please, don’t kill me.”
In that moment, with her wet hair pressed to her head, she looked twelve years old—someone’s beautiful daughter. A vision of Yelena holding a baby girl flashed in his mind. He dismissed the distraction. Valek had no intention of killing her, but what to do with her?
“Stop the storm, and I’ll think about it,” he said.
“I can’t. I only control the water.”
“Then restore the calm.”
The waves around the boat smoothed and the rain ceased. The ship settled.
“Is someone controlling the storm?” he asked.
She bit her lip and gazed past him. Valek glanced at the battle. All his people had reached the deck, and they had the upper hand. No surprise, considering the ages of their opponents. Experience trumped youth in most cases.
“It’s over,” he said. “Cooperation is the best way for you to stay alive.”
Sitting back on her heels in defeat, she said, “My brother can call the storms, but he’s not