Page 71 of The Sea Witch (Salt & Sorcery #1)

Cautiously, Alys plucked the vial from Ben’s hand. The slim glass tube was faintly cool in her palm, and had no adornments.

The liquid shimmered with the immensity of its potential and was contained by a simple cork stopper.

“The storm will set them free,” Ben murmured.

She stared at the vial as she tried to unlock its secrets. Even as she did so, the sounds of combat could still be heard as

distant pops of gunfire and booms from magically created lightning. Whatever way they were supposed to use this potion, they

had to think of something quickly, or else her crew wouldn’t survive.

What could it be? What was the next step?

“A storm has to be summoned,” she realized. “With that, we can distribute the potion. But,” she added, “on my own, I haven’t

enough power to perform such magic.”

“Mine isn’t nearly as developed as yours,” Ben said, “yet it’s yours to command, however you need.”

“We can grow your power,” she answered, “but there isn’t time for that now. I need Stasia and the others. Between all of us,

we should have enough magic to conjure the storm we need.”

She and Ben left the clearing, stepping over the scattered stones that had once been the hut and then the creature.

Alys tucked the vial into the pouch on her belt.

As they sped through the forest, the sounds of combat grew louder and closer, including the angry shouts of women fighting marines on the beach.

A pistol fired, followed by a man’s yell of pain.

She and Ben emerged onto the sandy bulwark. Two dozen marines attempted to climb the barricade, no longer adhering to formations.

Stasia, Susannah, and Thérèse threw lightning and jets of flame to hold them back, while Inés and Dayanna slashed with their

cutlasses whenever an infantryman managed to reach the top of the bulwark. Yet the men kept coming. It was a stalemate.

“Hellfire.” Alys pointed at the bay.

Two cutters full of marines headed toward the beach. Armed, fresh for combat, their superior numbers would overwhelm her crew.

“Damnation,” Ben added. “Strickland and Warne, the mage, are on one of those cutters. And the Fearless is going to drop anchor at any moment.”

“Look.” Alys directed Ben’s attention now beyond the bay.

The leviathan had broken away from the Jupiter , and swam toward the shore. It might not be able to leave the sea, but it could stretch out from the water to devour the

Sea Witch ’s crew on the shore. The kraken swam in the direction the Sea Witch had sailed.

Alys pulled out the vial. They had to use the fail-safe immediately, or else she, Ben, and her crew would all die on this

beach, and the Sea Witch would be destroyed.

Oliver caught sight of the glowing tube in her hand. He scowled and, grabbing a marine by the back of the neck, shouted something

into the infantryman’s ear. The two men clambered up the bulwark. A shot of lightning, fired by Thérèse, singed across the

marine’s jaw. He tumbled down the sand, clutching at his burned face.

Oliver breached the top of the sandy fortification. He ran toward Alys, jabbing a bayonet-topped musket at her.

Ben leapt forward and knocked Oliver’s attack aside with the guard of his cutlass. The two men struggled for control of the musket until Ben finally snatched it from Oliver’s grip. Spinning the weapon around, Ben stabbed through Oliver’s arm, just above the officer’s bicep.

Snarling, enraged, the officer kept pushing forward. His expression set in fury, Ben plowed his cutlass’s bell-shaped guard

into Oliver’s face. Blood spewed and Oliver collapsed, out cold. With his boot, Ben kicked Oliver down the bulwark, where

he lay in an unconscious heap. One of the marines dragged Oliver toward the beached naval cutter.

Alys ran to her crew, and Ben joined them. “I need everyone’s magic to end this. Ben, Dayanna, Inés, keep their men back.”

Stasia placed her hands on Ben and the two women’s swords, recharging them with fresh, glowing energy. He and the crew members

positioned themselves at the top of the bulwark. Their swords flashed as they fought back surges of marines. Dayanna cried

out when one of the infantrymen slashed across her shin, yet she kept fighting.

“What we need, my beauties, is a storm.” Alys looked at each of the witches in turn. “The biggest, fiercest tempest any of

us have ever summoned.”

“Take hold of each other’s hands,” Stasia instructed. “Invite the largest squall you can. Gather the clouds. Implore the rain.

Bring them all to us.”

Alys held Stasia’s hand, and she took hold of Thérèse’s, and so on, until everyone was linked. Closing her eyes was an act

of faith, when so much chaos and uncertainty surrounded Alys, but there was no choice. She reached toward the magic flowing

through her and all the other women.

Their strands wove together in a bright living thing. Twining from many threads into a powerful braid of many colors.

With that braid, she cast out into the sky. She called upon the countless storms that swirled over the Caribbean, all the squalls and tempests and gales scattered over the sea. The water within her own body resounded with the force of so many storms, gathering them.

Wind buffeted her. She opened her eyes. Thick dark clouds raced across the sky toward the island as the leviathan continued

to swim toward the shore. The clouds were heavy, shadowed with the promise of rain. The sky turned the color of soot.

Alys pulled the vial from the pouch on her belt. She unstoppered the cork and held the vial aloft, all the while summoning

the upward flight of a seabird. Under her breath, she murmured coaxing words.

The potion within the vial rose up in a spiral. It wheeled and dipped through the air as it went higher and higher, until

it disappeared into the gathering storm clouds.

The winds howled. The clouds shifted. Their color changed, from dark gray to a shimmering blue.

A streak of lightning pierced the air, followed by a crack of thunder. And then it rained. A blue glittering rain that fell

on the island, the ships in the bay, the waves, and the massive creatures in the bay, including the leviathan twisting through

the waves toward them.

Rain drenched everyone, dripping from their hair, and gleaming on their skin. Water soaked into the bulwark, and the sand

beneath their feet shifted. The fortification buckled.

Fighting to stay on her feet, Alys stared out into the cove, watching, waiting. Hoping.

She pointed toward the creatures. “Their eyes.”

The change was clear. The creatures’ slitted pupils widened. The krakens, the leviathan, and the massive shark all shook themselves

as if waking from a dream. For a moment, the creatures seemed disoriented, swimming in circles. Suddenly, they broke away

and made for open water. The shark thrashed, breaking its ropes, and also swam free.

As one of the krakens passed the second naval ship, it lashed out with a tentacle, shattering the mainmast. The ship lost its mobility and drifted sideways.

Swimming past the Jupiter , the leviathan tore the hull with its claws, scoring long deep holes in the planks. Men shouted in the distance and the flagship

listed to one side.

And then the creatures were gone. The storms abated, quieting, but the water containing the potion floated out to sea in shimmering

blue eddies. It would spread across the Caribbean and other oceans, other seas, setting free all the creatures that had been

forced to fight someone else’s battles.

Alys’s heart lifted, and her crew let out jubilant sounds. Ben didn’t smile, but there was relief in his eyes.

A moment later, the cutters carrying more armed marines, as well as the naval admiral and mage, landed fifty feet down the

beach. Men disembarked in regimented order as they prepared to attack. The infantrymen from the first assault kept advancing.

The battle was far from over.

Under Alys’s feet, the bulwark continued to shift and disintegrate. She turned to her witches. “Bring it down!”

She, Stasia, Thérèse, and Susannah stamped their feet into the sand. The bulwark shuddered. Then it collapsed on top of the

first group of marines.

Regaining her balance, Alys turned toward the next wave of armed men. There had to be at least two dozen of them. Their postures

were upright, their steps assured as they marched up the beach to Alys and her crew. None of them were bent by battle fatigue,

as she and her crew were. Holding out against them, defeating them, wasn’t possible.

Alys and her crew had used the fail-safe, but they wouldn’t leave this beach alive.

A thunderous roar shook the skies as cannons bellowed. Streaks of blue and purple and green energy arced across the water. Magically charged cannon balls crashed into the new group of marines and exploded in a deafening boom. All that was left of the men was smoldering sand.

The Sea Witch sailed back into the bay. Smoke plumed from its cannons.

At the sight of their ship’s return, Alys and her crew shouted in relieved welcome.

Witches gathered at the ship’s gunwale. A golden glow collected around them, then shot across the water. As the magic sped

over the sea, it pushed the water into a massive wave that headed toward the beach.

Thundering, the wave crashed over another group of marines. Men were carried out into the bay, leaving behind boots and dropped

long guns.

The enemy’s numbers thinned. Yet there was still close to a score of marines left on the beach.

Eyes blazing, hair flying around her head in a dark halo, Susannah lifted up, hovering five feet off the ground. Winds buoyed

her as she flew over to Inés and Dayanna. More gusts of wind arose to surround the three women. Dayanna and Inés lifted high,

joining Susannah. Using her hands to control the wind, Susannah guided them over the advancing men.

Inés’s and Dayanna’s cutlasses gleamed as they slashed down at the men. Terrified, the marines cowered or ran despite the

bellowed commands of their officers.

Stasia threw jets of fire at the marines’ powder horns. The gunpowder heated and exploded, and screams followed. As the men

fell, Thérèse charged into the fray with her glowing cutlass whirling in a frenzy of attacks.

The admiral and mage strode toward Alys and Ben.

Ben went straight for Strickland. The two faced each other, circling briefly before launching into a clash of cutlass against cutlass. Contempt twisted the admiral’s face, while Ben’s eyes were cold with fury as he struck and parried skillfully. His jaw was set and hard.

Nearby, Alys hesitated. Should she go to help? Would she only be in the way?

The mage marched toward the action, pulling a small bottle from his pocket and raising it to his lips. Dragon’s blood potion.

If the mage drank it, his power would be nearly unstoppable. Alys’s own magic already frayed around the edges. She needed

balancing to restore her full ability, yet there wasn’t time for that.

Alys sprinted toward the mage. She rammed her elbow into his hand. The bottle of dragon’s blood flew through the air before

spilling in the sand.

“Bitch,” the mage snarled. He drew his cutlass.

“It’s witch .”