"Pirates!" someone screamed.

The cry echoed along the deck of Chalice of the Crowns, picked up by sailors and the men Skyreach led. She eyed her enemy grimly. She didn't know who had pursued them with such tenacity. The horde of darkness that had gathered to tear Cormanthyr down had drawn forces from everywhere. She did not know if the City of Songs still stood, and that uncertainty had weighed so heavily in her heart these days that she had been gone from it.

Skyreach lifted her voice, bellowing above the swell of the waves and the thunder to the knot of men along the rail. "Scaif!"

A tall elven warrior turned to face her. He wore simple leather, but Scaif had been one of the most trusted men in her great-grandfather's courts. "Aye, milady."

"Get Verys to my side," Skyreach commanded.

"At once, milady." Scaif saluted, then tapped one of the warriors at his side on the shoulder. The warrior took off immediately but was overtaken by a roil of dark seawater. Miraculously, the man grabbed the railing around the central hold as he was washed across the deck, saving himself. He staggered to his feet as Chalice of the Crowns twisted again, then seemed to drop into a bottomless pit.

"Captain Rinnah." Skyreach made her voice unforgiving, pulling much of her great-grandfather's wrath into it.

The captain spun toward her.

When the ship bottomed out against the sea again, Skyreach thought for a moment that her legs weren't going to be strong enough to hold her. The railing abraded her palm even inside the leather glove, promising blisters on the morrow. She ignored the pain. She had never failed her great-grandfather while he was alive, nor would she allow herself to fail Faimcir Glitterwing's memory. She pointed her long sword at the approaching vessel and said, "Would you see your ship taken as a pirate's prize?"