58 – Elin Gregory “If we die, we die together.”

The three formations, formed their arrowheads and idled while Janosc consulted with Briss and Dolor, the head of formation three.

“A head-on attack is out,” Dolor said. “Look at those air intakes. I don’t want any of my boys shredded.”

“And I don’t like that shimmer,” Briss added.

Janosc had to agree. At this distance it was unlikely to do much damage, but he had sent out a curse, heavily laced with malice, and it had caromed off the shimmer like a gently tossed apple core. “They have something to block magic,” he said. “If we are going to bring the ship down it must be by physical means and our chances …” He eyed the ship and glanced back at the ranks of fae, wings blurring against the ocean.

“I have an idea.” He explained quickly, divided the force and allocated duties then tuned his mind to Briss’s. “Go back to Jenelle. Her safety is your responsibility.”Janosc could see Briss’s distress in the jerky flutter of his wings, the clenching of his armoured fists.  “You mean too much to me to see you die.”

“No, I will take the aft air intake. If we die, we die together.”

They bumped fists then the groups of fae sped to Janosc’s bidding. He gave the word and their magically contained bundles of seawater hit the air intakes, smashing the fans and flashing into expanding clouds of superheated steam. The ship’s engines screamed and it lurched, sliding towards the angry waves.