The Destiny (Blood and Destiny Book 4) (5 page)

Larissa’s arm ached. As odd as it seemed
in the utter chaos erupting around her, all she could focus on was the pain
caused by the Admiral’s iron grip on her upper arm, his fingers sticking into
her skin and branding her with marks. Despite knowing the marks would heal
quickly, it didn’t stop draining her focus away from the more pertinent
situation.

The pirate airships reacted
slowly to the
Eagle’s
arrival. One by one, they turned in the sky, their
crews nothing more than fast-moving dots in the distance—dots which
determinedly rushed about the decks and prepared for battle, much like the Marines
on deck behind her.

“You’re not going to
fight them all, are you?” she asked Vries.

“I will fight until
every last ship is nothing more than a burning wreckage on the ground.”

“Over the city?” She
felt her lower lip wobble. People had died when Doctor Orother destroyed the Hub,
and even more people had died after her disastrous escape from Aditona. She
simply couldn’t stand the thought of knowing hundreds, if not thousands, of
people in the city streets and buildings below might perish in this crazy
situation—another situation she seemed to be stuck in the middle of with no
control.

“You are leaving me no
choice,” he barked in her ear as he shook her slightly.

“I keep telling you I
have nothing to do with this. Can’t you draw them out somehow? I understand if
you insist on fighting them, but surely it can’t be acceptable for the military
to show no concern over hundreds…thousands of civilian lives. Please, for the
love of the Gods, tell me the President wouldn’t sanction such measures.”

Vries looked down at
her, his brow mottled with deep lines.

“Ready, Admiral,” the
ship’s Captain called from somewhere behind them.

“Head west,” he called
back.

“Sir?”

“You heard me. Away
from the city.”

“We’re running away?”

“Are you questioning my
orders? We’re drawing them out over the plains. Ready the gun decks and travel
slow.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Thank you,” Larissa
whispered.

“I’m not doing it for
your sake, Miss Markus. I’m banking on the arrogance of pirates to think they
have us on the run. You’re going back to the brig until all this is over.”

He turned, dragging her
with him, then stood for a moment, scanning the men on deck. Everyone appeared busy
with some task, rushing to and fro. Vries grumbled under his breath.

“You don’t trust the
task of returning me to the brig to anyone else, do you?”

“I don’t trust you,
no.”

“And you don’t want to
leave the deck yourself?” she asked, glancing in the distance. The nearest
pirate airship closed fast; they would be in range within minutes. Her free
hand dipped into her pocket and fingers brushed against the invisibility stone,
a slight spark of heat emerging from it the moment she made contact. There
would be no point activating it while the Admiral still had her in his grasp,
but she was running out of time and fast running out of options.

Vries growled and
shoved her backwards until she bumped against something solid—a mast pole. He
grabbed a length of rope and whipped her hands painfully behind the pole,
binding them together.

“You’re staying right
where I can see you. Prepare to fire!” he yelled as he turned back to his men,
the pirate ship drawing close, the faces of the men on board coming into view.

Larissa stared at each
of them, focusing on the details of their features. One man had a wide, wild
smile, showing a mouth devoid of teeth; another had a scar split down the
length of his face. Their captain came into view, laughing as he whirled the
wheel around, angling them on a collision course.

She didn’t hear the
order to fire, but the first blast of cannons stopped her heart, the noise
rattling around her head. The shot struck true, piercing wood in the hull of
the enemy ship and leaving a perfectly shaped hole in its wake. Larissa braced
her legs, preparing for the impact as the pirate ship turned, heading directly
to their side.

“Up!” Vries bellowed at
the top of his voice, lacking in any form of panic. Seconds later, the entire
airship rose at an incredible speed, as though gravity itself had forgotten
what it was doing for a moment. Larissa slid down the mast pole, her knees
slipping apart as she crashed into the deck and crashed onto her backside.

“Fire!”

Cannons let fly,
blasting hard and fast, rocking the ship with their ferocity. Larissa’s teeth
ground together, and she strained to see what had happened, but they had risen
so far so quickly that the pirate airship was nowhere to be seen. Once they
emerged on the other side of the ship, she stood and managed to see.

The canopy of the pirate
airship was ripped to shreds. They had sailed past beneath the
Eagle
and
now plummeted to the ground at an awkward angle, the descent unstoppable. She
couldn’t see the men on deck, as they were still too high above and the canopy
blocked her view, but she could imagine them panicking and racing to and fro,
trying in vain to prevent the inevitable. A gust of wind licked the curls of
her hair, matting them across her face, masking the final view of the ship
smashing into the ground below, but the sickening crash reaching her ears was
vision enough. When finally her hair cleared her eyes, she strained to look
over the rail, propping up on tiptoes to try to see. She hoped maybe a few
people might be walking away from the impact, but the
Eagle
turned
briskly, the ship far more manoeuvrable than she would have guessed from its
size.

More cannon fire split
the air, though not from their ship nor from any pirate ships firing at them.
As they turned, the last of the evening sky giving way to black night pricked
with starlight, she saw a line of ships on their tail. These battled another
ship, familiar and distinctive from the pack by the lack of canopy.

While Larissa wouldn’t
claim to harbour any deep affection towards the ship which had once been her
father’s and which had sailed them safely home from the troublesome shores of
Eptora, her heart did ache at the thought of seeing Cid’s work destroyed in
such utter pointlessness. She watched on, wide-eyed, heart thumping in her ears
as holes appeared in the sides of the structure and bodies flew through the air
on deck as rifle shot ripped through the minimal military crewmembers. She
glanced at Vries, who watched the scene like a hawk, his eyes flashing with a
restrained anger. For all the
Eagle’s
speed, they couldn’t turn around fast
enough to save the doomed ship before a cannonball shot through one of the
upturned rotors, tearing it to pieces and sending the entire vessel downward in
a spiral.

Though she knew it was
coming, her body reacted with a shocked jolt as the canopy-less ship hit the
ground. More explosions followed, cannons aboard the
Eagle
shooting at
the pirate airships which had downed their comrades. The darkness of early
evening light was pierced by swinging lanterns aboard the enemy vessels and
yellow, explosive blasts from their own gun ports as they returned fire. Shouts
and calls splintered the air between the cacophony of explosions. Larissa
tugged at the rope binding her wrists to no avail, and though she still held
the invisibility stone in her hand, it was of little use to her now.

A crunching noise
echoed up from below, and she stared down at the deck as if she could wilfully
see through the layers of wood to the brig at the bottom. She let out a
mournful gasp as she thought of her friends, trapped down there, caged and
awaiting death, incapable of escape even if they could see it coming.

Three more airships
turned in their direction, the crafts undeterred by their downed friends, and
finally, the pirates seemed to be coordinating themselves.

“Weave,” Vries cried,
his voice carrying above all other sounds. Men raced across the deck, their
polished boots thumping with haste but not panic, the years of harsh and
embattled training driven into the men showing with ruthless efficiency. No one
questioned, no one faltered, and Larissa knew then she was seeing a natural
leader, utterly confident in his orders. She couldn’t help but admire Vries and
wish that she had only once led her own group with such a measure of surety. The
ship dipped in the sky, dropping down so fast Larissa wondered if they’d been
hit. Then they shot upwards, rising up to the clouds, the men bracing their
legs on the deck against the angle. They rose up and up until they rounded out
high above the pursuing ships ahead.

“Down,” Vries yelled,
though it seemed he needn’t have done so as they had already turned and begun
to tip downwards. Larissa gripped onto the mast pole and dug her heels into the
deck as the contents of her stomach threatened to return with full force. Her
hair whipped in the wind as they plummeted downwards, and a volley of cannon
fire erupted from the gun decks below, blasting through canopy and masts and
decks of the attacking ships.

She held her breath as
the decks drew level and the Marines pelted the pirates with gunshot. Though
the pirates returned fire, their aims were desperately poor in comparison to
the trained men they faced. A bullet whizzed past her head and clipped the
mast, showering her face with splintered wood, and she sunk down to her knees
again.

“Don’t argue,” a voice
rumbled in her ear. She turned her neck, straining to see who had spoken and
finding no one nearby. A Marine stood several feet away beside the guardrail,
but he faced outwards, aiming his rifle. He pulled the trigger, then ducked
down out of sight, his attention fully locked onto reloading his weapon. She
felt something brush against her fingers, and the ropes binding her wrists
seemed to loosen as they were moved.

“Holt,” she whispered,
finally piecing together the puzzle. She’d handed the last piece of
Anthonium
and syringe to Sandy before leaving but hadn’t had time to give any
instruction. It had been meant as a last resort, a final thing to do in case
Holt almost died. She hoped they hadn’t wasted it just to help her escape.

“What am I not arguing
with?” she said as she carefully watched the deck. Everyone was too focused on
the battle to notice her talking to herself.

“My plan,” Holt’s voice
said. He was not so close now, presumably kneeling behind the mast as he worked
to release her bindings.

“I can’t argue with it
if you won’t tell me what it is.”

“Precisely why I’m not
telling you. Larissa, please…”

The rope fell away, and
her arms were free at last. She blinked once or twice, oblivious to the chaos
around them as she tried to think when he’d ever pleaded with her before. Then
she quickly realized the answer was never.

“Holt, don’t tell me
you’re planning on escaping without the others? You know I won’t leave them
behind. I can’t.”

No reply came. She
turned in all directions, still sitting on the deck unable to stand on legs
made of jelly. He couldn’t truly expect her to leave the ship with him, to run
away and leave their friends to their fate? As much as she knew he disliked
Kerrigan, couldn’t he see that they mattered to her? Didn’t he know she loved
them all, especially Cid?

Her breath came in
short spurts, lungs burning even though she hadn’t exerted herself at all. The
vision of the ship, the men, the fighting—all became marred by a watery blur. Did
she really need to choose between escaping with Holt, leaving the others to die—if
not in battle then by hanging—and risking herself to save them but leave Holt
behind? It was unbearable, unthinkable, and though she couldn’t see it, she
knew her heart was physically snapping into two pieces from the pain striking
at her chest.

Vries turned to face
her briefly, as though checking she was still alive—and held in place—and then
his attention shifted back to barking orders. A body flew through the air,
blood erupting from the neck as the poor Marine experienced his last fleeting
moments. Larissa launched forwards, her fingers wrapping around the stone in
her hand, her eyes locking onto the stairwell leading below deck. She didn’t
take more than two steps before she was wrenched backwards harshly, painfully.

The world tipped upside
down. Her stomach dropped into her feet as the ship made another dive downwards,
and she found herself flying through the air at an unnatural angle. She floated
toward the edge of the ship, and her mind suddenly added in the missing piece
of the bizarre puzzle as she felt the strong arm gripping her waist and holding
her tightly.

Panic raced through her
body from head to toe as she approached the inevitable but unwanted end, and
she screamed an incoherent, blood-curdling shriek as Holt launched over the
edge of the ship, carrying her with him.

Her legs kicked and
bucked, fighting the invisible force holding her pinned in place. Holt grunted
in response but continued working his way quickly down the rope he’d thrown
over the side.

“Keep still or we’ll
fall,” he said, his voice strained.

“Let me go, damn you.
Holt, put me down. Leave if you want to, but I have to go back and help the
others. I have to—”