He circled around the first ship, readying for another flyby when a fiery ball hit the mast. Rocky slammed head on into a wave of heat and smoke which stung his eyes and choked him. Something smashed into his right wing. He plummeted to the deck of the attack ship below. He crashed onto the quarter deck and skidded into the wooden railing. He lay in a crumpled heap.

From beneath the ladder a skinny boy of about eleven crept forward. He pointed his long dagger toward the pile of feathers and chain mail that was Rocky. Behind the boy crouched a thin girl just a few years younger. Both were barefoot and dressed in adult-sized cast offs.

The girl whispered, "Come on. The fire’s spreading. We gotta to get to a lifeboat."

"We got time. I wanna take a stab at this thing first."

"Maybe it’s dead"

"Good, then I don’t have to do anything except get blood on the blade. Then we’ll tell ‘em I killed it."

The girl’s eyes widened. "You’re gonna lie to the Captain?"

"Why not? He does it to me all the time." The boy turned his blade to point at her, "If you tell him, I’ll hafta stab you too."

The girl started to cry.

"Baby." he said and turned his attention back to Rocky.

Rocky stirred and slowly sat up, wracked by a fit of coughing. The girl backed up and cowered beneath the stairs. The boy took a deep breath and advanced. He stood straight and tall, framed by dark billowing smoke with a determined look on his face.

"All right you." he said in his bravest voice. "Hold it."

Rocky glared at him; the flames from the burning ship reflected in his golden eyes. "Put that away, boy, before you hurt yourself."

He stood up slowly. His right wing stung and from the large number of feathers littering the deck, he figured it might be a while before he could fly with it again. His joints ached, so did his head.

"Who you calling a boy?" the lad shouted angrily. He poked the air with the dagger. "I’m man enough to cut up the likes of you."

Rocky arranged his chain mail and retrieved his sword from the deck at his feet. "I doubt you know how to cut your dinner by the way you’re holding it. Boy. Now, get out of my way."

Katja climbed to her feet. She grasped Tulaan’s arm for support. Using the sleeve of her blouse, she wiped away the blood and sweat trickling down her cheek, leaving a red smear on the white fabric.

"We have to go after them."

"You’re kidding right?" Tulaan picked up his soiled chain and a discarded cutlass. "What we should be doing is getting to a lifeboat."

She drew back from him, fists clenched, eyes blazing and mouth twisted into a grim snarl. "Go on then. Find your sorry lifeboat. Drift at sea ‘til you die from starvation. See if I care. I’m going after them."

"Katja..."

"They can’t have the Nightshade without a fight. I won’t let them."

Tulaan’s voice rose, "Crazy human! What do you think all this blood means? These corpses?" He waved his hand, palm up towards Kelvyn’s body and the other crewmen slain. "We have put up a fight. A damn good one. But we lost."

"Don’t say that. It’s not over until one side is dead...theirs!" Katja snatched the cutlass from Tulaan’s hand.

"You’ll die." he said softly.

"That’s what Captains do, you furball. Go down with their ship. I intend to take them with me."

"This is pointless. Kelvyn’s dead."

Katja jabbed her thumb into her chest, "Which makes me now the captain." She started down the ladder a few steps and paused, "Are you coming?"

Rocky perched precariously on the starboard railing of the burning ship’s main deck. He clutched the side rigging with red stained hands. The thick stench of burning cedar and tar wracked his broken body with coughing fits. He smelled feathers burning-his feathers, almost turning the coughs into gags. Smoke stung his eyes, making them water so much he could barely focus.

He strained to see the small lifeboat in the water below. It and the two small forms cradled in its bowel quickly disappeared from view as waves carried them forward on watery arms.

Human brats! Rocky turned his attention to getting back on the Nightshade. He didn’t want to think about the children drifting at sea. He’d saved them from a fiery death, hadn’t he? Who would dare say he should have done more?

The doomed boat lurched and began its decent towards the ocean floor. I’ve got to get off this deathtrap. Rocky struggled to keep his balance. Any movement brought twinges from his bent wing. Flying was out of the question. He’d have to make a leap across to the Nightshade.

Behind Rocky, the foremast let out a creaking groan and crashed to the main deck in a shower of sparks and hungry flames.

The onslaught of heat became unbearable. The ship lurched again, sinking a few more feet.

Bye bye inferno. Rocky leapt wildly towards the port side of the Nightshade, trying to resist using his good wing to propel him. To do so might send him careening in a half circle back into the burning ship’s side.

For a second, Rocky’s fingers caught the railing he’d aimed for, but slipped. Eyes wide and arms flailing he screeched as the water rushed up to meet him.

The icy cold slapped him hard in the face. The salt water burned his nostrils and eyes. Rocky struggled wildly to reach the leather thongs lacing the back of his chain mail tunic. The numbing effect of the water on his fingers and the quickly swelling leather made it difficult to untie them. He sank rapidly.

Finally the lacings gave way and the Muavian wriggled his way out of the armor. He let it go; fascinated for a moment, watching it silently, gently sink further and further down, disappearing into the blackness below. Then he kicked and waved his arms to propel himself to the water’s surface.

Rocky erupted from the sea with a great gasp for air. He let his wings buoy him for a few seconds until he located one of the steel rope ladders dangling from the Nightshade’s side. One nice side effect of the numbing cold was its dampening effect on the pain of his broken wing. Then slowly and stiffly, he pulled himself upward to the main deck.

Once he’d cleared the railing, Rocky hesitated a moment, weak and dizzy. He gawked at the lack of activity on deck. He saw bodies strewn everywhere. The leather sail lying on the main deck had several moving lumps. Here and there a blade or a spear protruded from the black dragonhide.

Looking up Rocky noticed Elingor suspended near the mizzen mast. He couldn’t believe no one had brought the elf down because Elingor sat with his eyes closed, unmoving and unarmed. At last, a clean shot.

Stumbling, Rocky scavenged around for something to use, discarded several broken polearms and eventually pried a crossbow from the fingers of a dead pirate. It dwarfed his own, but the pirate never had a chance to fire. This had only one shot but Rocky figured why question a loaded weapon so conveniently placed.

"Thank you, Braytt." He muttered. Then he took careful aim at Elingor’s exposed back. As he squeezed the trigger, blackness overtook him.

                                                                   Rocky by Sally Less