Page 28 of Dragon Blood (Dragon Island #3)

C rimson Claw First Mate Tundi Okonedo squinted into the horizon from the quarterdeck, gaze flicking to the sun as she assessed the drift of the wind, her keen senses reading the atmosphere.

They’d been just outside of Aeleftherian territory when Joey Kane had contacted the ship via satellite phone to warn them of the Consortium threat headed their way.

Almost there.

Eyes closed, she waited as the vessel drifted, bearings true.

She sighed as her skin tingled from scalp to toenails from the magnetic field in the vast Bermuda Triangle, an invisible field that Aeleftheria drew on to protect her territory. Here, no radars, sonars, satellites or other such technology could spy and track them.

She turned, and with a flick of her chin, signaled several of the crew to drop over the Crimson Claw’s starboard side.

Moments later, the ship rocked as the women shifted into their dragon forms, displacing the surrounding ocean. Tundi’s sharp feline gaze followed their dark forms under the surface until they were far enough out to emerge with the significant force required to propel them into the air, wings snapping out to catch available currents.

Soon enough, they were dark spots in the sky as they raced home to alert the archipelago to prepare.

The remaining crew members scrambled to adjust the rigging to capture the too light drifts, drawing them at a leisurely pace.

All they could do was adjust and hope the airborne dragons brought the alert in time.

Sakunthala joined Tundi at the helm. “Hopefully our arrival will be timely enough to get the non-aerial away before…” She swallowed the last words, unwilling to say them aloud.

Tundi nodded. “It’s up to the sea to decide.”

They all knew it. It was the sailor’s life.

She glanced at the strained set of Sakunthala’s lips. “Don’t. Captain wouldn’t want you to drain your magic to conjure a wind. You may need your power later—sea goddess willing that we don’t see battle—so, just in case. That’s an order.”

Sakunthala’s lips thinned further, but her head jerked an affirmative.

Act now or prepare for later. Press upon nature or go with her flow.

Decisions, the weight of which dragged on Tundi’s shoulders. Lives were at stake and their duty was to ensure the safe passage of the vulnerable. Those that can’t fight or defend. Those that need to preserve the past for the future will go down into the earth.

But with what Tundi had learned over the last five decades with Astred, and recent events concerning the seals, she wasn’t so sure that was enough.

This is what concerned her most, as she turned her face skyward, studying the wisps of cloud and the subtle changes of the ocean’s surface.

Her pulse ticked through her chest as she turned to study the tones. Wind would come, but when?

The urge to shift pressed on her flesh and hummed through her bones, despite the uselessness of it. Tundi wasn’t a dragon shifter. She couldn’t fly, nor was she large enough to stave off any enemies of that size. Not as a lion shifter. But should they bring smaller allies, her claws and teeth would sink deep. The need to act, to protect her crew, to perform her duty to her captain. Her captain, whose duty was to protect the archipelago.

For several centuries, the Crimson Claw was Aeleftheria’s eyes and ears outside of the boundary.

Pirates, privateers, sailors, traders, and in more recent decades, ocean eco-preservationists.

She chuffed at that.

A piercing whistle ripped Tundi’s attention from the horizon up to the crow’s nest. The look out pointed in the distance at something large displacing the sea water far beyond their stern, as their departing dragonesses had, only moments before disappearing ahead.

It was larger than the Crimson Claw.

Fear gripped Tundi’s chest tight, on realizing it moved straight for them. The wind was barely enough to propel them forward, there was little chance to evade this threat. Still, she gave the signal for the crew to try. Even a few feet could mean survival over instant destruction.

“Perhaps you may use your magic, after all, Sakunthala.”

With a nod, Sakunthala braced herself on the uppermost deck, hands outstretched, eyes closed. Lips moving, forehead creased, she strained to summon the needed breeze to move the ship out of the way.

Calls and the rushing of feet over ancient wood and up through thick rigging filled the air as Tundi watched, calling adjustment orders as needed.

The water distorted its true size. Possibly a whale, though not likely in this region at this time of year. It could be an enemy dragon, whom they were on alert for, though it appeared to be singular.

A scout?

The First Mate spun the wheel as sails billowed, dragging the ship in a new direction.

Tundi forced her breath to fill her chest in a controlled manner, feeding oxygen to her brain, keeping her mind sharp, one eye on her crewmate as she struggled to coax the unpredictable forces to do her bidding.

Steady.

All the crew members not working on the sails prepared the iron cannons. They were old, but they bloody well still worked. The Captain made sure of it. Year after year, they attended tall-ship gatherings and demonstrations, usually firing blanks, but it still ensured the irons beasts were in top working order, despite their age. And the crew were skilled in their use.

Eyes glued to the submerged mass, orders flew from Tundi’s lips.

Readied, the Crimson Claw’s cannons could damage a dragon; at the very least shred his wings, preventing airborne assaults.

The mass continued toward the ship.

Not a whale.

“Prepare!”

Gun ports snapped open, muzzles ready, flares alight.

Her fingers gripped the helms’ polished wood, fear warring with caution, uncertainty slithering up her nape.

“Warning shot!” She shouted.

A single cannon roared with a billow of smoke, it’s shot crashed into the ocean, crossing the advancing mass’s path, forcing it to slow.

“I wouldn’t fire another.”

Tundi’s head whipped toward the port side. A woman climbed over the rail, naked and dripping with sea water. “Lirikai? Are you all right? Who is out there?” She signaled a crew woman to grab her a towel or robe, concerned that she was being pursued.

“It’s Carson.” Lirikai nodded her thanks as she wrapped herself in the offered covering. “Kane sent us ahead to help Aeleftheria, but the Sea Goddess diverted us to your ship. He’s going to pull you along so you can get the refugees out before the Consortium arrives.”

“Sakunthala!” Tundi shouted for her crewmate to release her magic. Sakunthala relinquished her hold, sagging against the rail.

Relieved, Tundi wasted no time ordering the cannons put away, and the rigging and sails bundled before ropes dropped into the sea.

Astred had told Tundi on the journey to Carson’s island before the wedding, that while he was a dragon, he wasn’t like the others. He was created by the Sea Goddess, as Lirikai of the Barra’kidai, a barracuda shifter, had been, centuries before him.

So, she—the Sea —had decided to help. Just not with the desired winds to fill their sails. Instead, Carson Perenga would tow them, like an oversized tugboat.

“Where are they?”

“We’re not sure which direction they’ll attack from or what their numbers are, but we’re sure they’re coming.”

“If they haven’t struck already,” Sakunthala said, looking forward as the Crimson Claw groaned, lurching forward as if it suddenly had jet propulsion in the form of an ageless water dragon.

Crew members still in the rigging secured themselves.

Tundi’s heart caught in her throat as one of the younger human crew women misstepped and lost her footing on the deck, rolling toward the rail, until Lirikai caught her with supernatural strength and speed, pulling her to safety.

With a final glare, Tundi ensured everyone else was secure as they sped toward Aeleftheria to evacuate the vulnerable.

We just might have a chance to get them to safety.

Despite her realist nature, Tundi allowed herself that slim glimmer of hope.