Marco got better than he expected. As instructed, Elisa and the others were using the good ammo, and the first salvo covered the deck of the enemy ship with fire and smoke, obscuring the small ship’s vision just enough for it to miss a low, submerged sheet of wood that looked like it might have once been an entire dock. The smallest ship of the enemy fleet hung up on it, spinning in a wild dance until it finally broke free and pointed straight up the side of the whirlpool, an angle it couldn’t climb at its current diminished rate of speed. Stopped in place, it ate a full second salvo from The Foolish Endeavor’s cannons before turning back to a level angle.

“It’s in trouble.” Elisa was excited. “We damaged the sails. It can’t maintain the angle it's at for long.”

“It’s going to have to break away from the group?”

“Or they are going to have to follow it down deeper into the whirlpool, but it’s faster the lower you go. I don’t think the bigger ships can risk it.”

They couldn’t. As the smaller ship made the adjustments to its direction in order to survive the next few minutes, the bigger ships pulled up and away, flaring powers one after another to try and make up for what they lost as their guide abandoned them. The whole whirlpool lurched as the overall resistance from the ships grew, finally putting a real strain on its ability to hold them all at once.

“That’s it,” Marco said. “That’s the best we’ll get. Aethe, hold on to Riv.”

“Hold on to me? I’m not going to like this, am I?” Riv asked.

“No, buddy. I’m afraid it’s going to be pretty bad,” Marco said. “But it just might save us.”

Marco angled the nose of his ship upward, not exactly one hundred and eighty degrees away from the center of the pool, but close. Pumping every bit of power he could manage into boosting the ship wasn’t much more than he was already doing, but he managed to squeeze out just a bit more velocity. Then, when the whole ship was straining against the whirlpool’s power, he activated Tyrannical Extraction, pulling every bit of strength out of Riv the skill would allow him to pull. He saw his friend crumple to the deck as the ship suddenly slingshotted forward, freed of most of the restriction of the whirlpool.

Most was a tricky proposition here. The whirlpool started throwing up obstacle after obstacle in their way, each requiring significant maneuvering to get around. Still, they made much more progress than he had hoped in the early seconds of the push. As they neared the top, he felt the power waning, but there was still a little oomph left to make use of. He gave it everything he had, pushing harder and harder against the slope.

“Are we gonna make it?” Elisa said, clinging to a rail. “Are we going to get out?”

“Hope so.” Marco’s teeth were clenched. “I won’t have anything left after this.”

The ship drew on the last dregs of his power, pushing further and further up until the prow finally broke the plane of the whirlpool. It was just the prow, though. With a sickening lurch, the last of both Marco’s magical power and Riv’s contribution fizzled at once, leaving them functionally dead in the water. He could feel them start to slip backwards as the current dragged their ship around the circle, pulling them slowly inwards.

“Well,” Marco said. “I guess it was a good run.”

Suddenly, the whirlpool cleared. Not everywhere, as at most levels it stayed just the same as it had been, whirling and slowly drawing its prey in closer and closer to the center. But at the very top where The Foolish Endeavor was still fruitlessly fighting that pull, it flattened, pushing up the slope until it was almost level with the outside sea and ceasing to spin entirely for just a moment.

A moment was enough. The ship shot out of the whirlpool like a greased pig from grasping arms, free and safe.

A reward. A voice sounded in Marco’s head, one that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but the dull monotone of the whirlpool spirit. You will not die.

“Thanks,” Marco said. He wasn’t sure that not being killed by someone counted as a reward, but in the moment it wasn’t worth arguing about. They were out. He let the ship continue on a straight course as he collapsed to the floor.

“Shouldn’t we keep trying to get distance?” Riv, similarly collapsed, rolled to his side to call to Marco. “As far as we can get?”

“The whirlpool doesn’t want us. The system says it can’t catch us twice anyway.” Marco rolled on his back and took a deep breath. This whole day had been weirdness after weirdness, and he was just starting to recover from it. “I just need a second to catch my breath, but we aren’t leaving. We have to chase that whirlpool.”

“Are you crazy?” Aethe said. “I’m serious. Have you gone mad?”

“I haven’t gone mad. I am mad, though. And I’m going to take it out on the people still in that whirlpool. Leave Riv to recover and get on the cannons. I have a plan.”

This book was originally published on NovelBin. Check it out there for the real experience.

—

Circling the whirlpool sounded like one of those things that could very easily go wrong. In reality, doing so ended up having basically no downsides. The whirlpool completely ignored them as they gave chase. None of the effects it had on them before applied. Though the whirlpool spirit looked like it should affect currents for miles and miles, The Foolish Endeavor was cruising along as it would on completely normal, turbulence-free ocean water.

That didn’t mean approaching the whirlpool was easy, exactly. It was moving and moving fast. At first Marco was having trouble even keeping it in sight. As his magic power slowly recovered, he was able to apply small amounts of boost, finally approaching the edge of the zone just as one of the smaller ships finally fought its way to the lip and nearly escaped.

“Open fire,” Marco said. “Aethe, take out the captain.”

The Scout burst into action first, sending arrow after arrow at the ship’s wheel. The captain took a few hits before he ducked down, but the distraction froze the ship’s progress, leaving it stalled halfway out of the whirlpool. The cannons fired next, slamming into the underside of the ship over and over as the wood cracked and burst from the damage.

When the ship slipped back into the whirlpool, Marco knew it was over for them. He let The Foolish Endeavor approach the edge again, angling to keep their guns aimed into the mass of helpless vessels still caught inside. Smoke rose from several already battered hulls as crews dodged Elisa and Riv's cannon fire and fought the water at the same time. They were too committed to not sinking to disengage and too trapped to properly maneuver.

“Reload. Aim low.” Marco’s voice carried over the deck, his tone gleeful. These were the people who had chased them for days, and he had no regrets at all over what was about to happen. “Pick your shots. There's plenty of time. We’re going to circle until there's nothing left.”

The next volley pounded a bulky freighter. Cannonballs tore through its deck cargo, sending splinters and broken crates into the air. Elisa's magic was in the mix, and a fire caught and began to quickly spread. Aethe’s arrows stitched across the deck, clearing sailors from their stations and making any attempt at escape even more impossible.

Each pass around the whirlpool gave them a fresh target. A lumbering warship went down here, a small scouting craft sunk there. When a ship tried to angle to return fire, Marco cut just outside the whirlpool’s drag, and the crew fired at the exposed gunners. Explosions blossomed as powder barrels started to burn, the blast taking out a good part of the deck and finally rendering the ship unable to fight the whirlpool anymore.

Elisa and Riv kept the cannons fed and steady. Every shot they landed cut another strand of the rope holding the enemy fleet’s strength together. Soon, enough, that rope was all but severed. Smaller ships were crippled, left with no choice but to spin along the current uncorrected by their now-useless rudders. Bigger ships listed or sunk entirely. It was mayhem and violence, writ large.

By the third circuit, the rhythm of attack felt almost routine. Marco was not bored though. The sweet revenge of it all was like nectar to him at this point. Notifications were blasting every few seconds now, but he could get to those at any time. He focused on the battle, doing everything he could to make sure the extermination was complete.

The whirlpool raged, sometimes just inches away from the ship. It looked as terrifying as ever, but none of its fury touched them.

Soon enough, it was over. As it found itself fighting fewer and fewer ships, the whirlpool both grew and grew to be even faster. By the end, even Marco's now-recuperated magical power wasn't enough to keep The Foolish Endeavor moving at the pace the unencumbered whirlpool could.

He didn't expect any thanks from the spirit as it sped away, which was good considering he didn't get any. It wasn't exactly a social creature.

"So what happened there? Are we friends?" Riv asked. "With a whirlpool?"

"No. But I don't think we are enemies with it anymore. That will have to be enough."

—

The flight from the armada chasing them had taken them far off course, enough so that they were still a full day's travel from the island Quill had sent them towards. For the first half of it, the crew recovered. That was the rhythm of their lives lately. They would tackle some incredible danger, rest up, and hope to be in shape to perform when the next danger came around.

Everyone had a slightly different variation on this. Despite all the time Riv spent with the chickens, they were only a small part of how he relaxed and recovered. The bulk of what seemed to make him feel better was actually busywork. He'd scour the deck looking for any cracks or breaks he could get to, patching them up with scrap wood or tar. He would tie and retie knots, making sure that nothing important could come loose.

Sometimes, this involved Elisa's rest as well. She spent her time organizing things. Rest was when she went over the hundreds of notes she had made across several different notebooks, took out the bits that had turned out to be important, and organized them in any one of three or four permanent, primary books. She also did what she could to take inventory of the ship's supplies, moving goods around with Riv and making sure their cargo was packed as well as possible.

Aethe spent her time talking to Marco, Riv, and Elisa while keeping watch. She seemed to get something out of staring out into the distance that the others didn't, something that could sustain her for hours and hours. It wasn't interesting to her, Marco thought. If he had to guess, it was probably just that she was a person who appreciated quiet and calm. To her, it was probably the same rest he would have gotten if he were lying in a hammock on a warm day and verifying that they weren't at risk.

Marco understood it a little better than he should have because his rest involved steering. Knowing he was getting them to where they were going was nice, but something about the fact that he was choosing where they'd go and how was even nicer.

And now, away from the battle, he got to do both that and take inventory of how he was getting stronger. Surprisingly, it was that part that threw a wrench into their plans.