Although, the reavers had been stunned and wounded by the ambuscade, it would have been madness for four women and a boy to try attacking all alone. But Maia and the rest of the skiff crew had counted on hidden reinforcements, which came from a source the pirates never suspected. Only a few of those who had been aboard the raft when the reaver ship was first spotted had remained aboard to face the brunt of the cannon's shells. The rest had by then gone overboard, taking shelter under empty crates and boxes already jettisoned — apparently to lighten the raft's load. In fact, they were tethered to float some distance behind, where the enemy would not think to shoot at them.
Only the strongest swimmers had been chosen for that dangerous role. Once the skiff crew began boarding, drawing all the reavers aft, five waterlogged Manitou sailors managed to swim around to the bow and clamber aboard, using loops of dangling, cable. Shivering and mostly unarmed, they did have surprise on their side. Even so, it was a close and chancy thing.
Small-scale battles can turn on minor differences, as Maia learned when she pieced together what had happened at the end. The last two Manitou sailors, those responsible for springing the catapult trap, had been perhaps the bravest of all. With their job done, each took a running start, then leaped feetfirst off the high bluff to plunge all the way down to the deep blue water. Surviving that was an exploit to tell of. To follow it up with swimming for the crippled ketch, and joining the attack in the nick of time . . . the notion alone put Maia in awe. These were, indeed, tough women.
Before Maia made it back from her own watery excursion, that last wave of reinforcements turned the tide, converting bloody stalemate into victory. Now ten of the original band of internees, plus several well-watched prisoners, labored to prepare the captive prize for travel. Young Brod, despite bandages on his face and arms, climbed high upon the broken mast, parsing debris from useful lines and shrouds, eliminating the former with a hatchet.
Maia was hauling lengths of cable overboard when Naroin tapped her on the shoulder. The policewoman carried a rolled-up chart, which she unfurled with both hands. "You ever get a good latitude fix with that toy Pegyul gave you?" she asked.
Maia nodded. After two dips in the ocean, she hadn't yet inspected the minisextant, and feared the worst. Before yesterday, however, she had taken several good sightings from their prison pinnacle. "Let's see … we must've been dumped on . . ." She bent to peer at the chart, which showed a long archipelago of narrow, jagged prominences, crisscrossed by perpendicular coordinate lines. Maia saw a slanted row of cursive lettering, and rocked back. "Well I'll be damned. We're in the Dragons' Teeth!"
"Yeah. How about that." Naroin replied. These were islands of legend. "I'll tell you some interestin' things about 'em, later. But now — the latitude, Maia?"
"Oh, yes." Maia reached out and tapped with one finger. "There. They must have left us on, um, Grimke Island."
"Mm. Thought so from the outline. Then that one over there" — Naroin pointed westward at a mist-shrouded mass—"must be De Gournay. And just past it to the north, that's the best course toward deep water. Two good days and we're in shipping lanes."
Maia nodded. "Right. From there, all you need is a compass heading. I hope you make it."
Naroin looked up. "What? You're not coming along?"
"No. I'll take the skiff, if it's all right with you. I have unfinished business around here."
"Renna an' your sister." Naroin nodded. "But you don't even know where to look!"
Maia shrugged. "Brod will come. He knows where the man sanctuary is, at Halsey Beacon. From there, we may spot some clue. Find the hideout where Renna's being kept." Maia did not mention the uncomfortable fact that Leie was one of the keepers. She shifted her feet. "Actually, that chart would be more useful to us, since you'll be off the edge just a few hours after . . ."
Naroin sniffed. "There are others below, anyway. Sure, take it." She rolled the vellum sheet and slapped it gruffly into Maia's hands. Clearly she was masking feelings like the ones erupting in Maia's own breast. It was hard giving up a friend, now that she had one. Maia felt warmed that the woman sailor shared the sentiment.
. "O' course, Renna might not even be in the archipelago anymore," Naroin pointed out.
"True. But if so, why would they have gone to such lengths to get rid of us? Even as witnesses, we'd not be much threat if they'd fled in some unknown direction. No, I'm convinced he and Leie are nearby. They've got to be."
There followed a long silence between the two women, punctuated only by the sounds of nearby raucous chopping, hammering and scraping. Then Naroin said, "If you ever finally reach a big town, get to a comm unit an' dial PES five-four-niner-six. Call collect. Give 'em my name.
