Thomas’ elation at the success of the cannon shot was fleeting, and his joy turned quickly to sour dismay in his mouth. While they had managed to break the spell of the Siren’s momentarily, they had also called the full fury of the beasts to the [i]Dusk Skate[/i].

Watching with silent and growing dread, Thomas’ jaw set as the slimy gray bodies of the Sirens flashed through the fire-lit waters. The creatures moved with preternatural speed; apex predators on the path of their prey. Almost thoughtlessly, Thomas’s hands reached up to the brace of pistols held in the bandolier across his chest. He drew them both, and cocked back the hammers of each in smooth succession. Even as the Sirens closed upon the hull of the ship, Thomas knew in his heart of hearts that this would be the most harrowing battle of his life.

The report of a pistol shot, quickly accompanied by the call [i]”Prepare for boarding!”[/i] caught Thomas’ attention, and he looked back. His eyes alit upon Antonia, and he watched as her grey eyes looked to him, and her quiet words met his ears. 

He did not understand what she intended to do, but he trusted his love, and he needed no more bidding—even if time had allowed for such. Thomas knew he would give his life to protect Antonia regardless of the circumstances. The Sirens that were boarding his ship would face the full measure of his wrath, of that he vowed.

With his silent conviction, Thomas turned his back to where Antonia now knelt, his copper eyes scanning the deck. Around him, the grotesque gray forms of the Sirens were writhing over the ship’s railing, and he watched as they tore into the paralyzed crewmen. Distantly, Thomas perceived that the Siren’s still held their ethereal sway over many of the pirates, and he mouthed a silent prayer of thanks that somehow—be it his strength of will, or some other unknown force—was keeping his mind warded from the deadly trance.

A slick, scuttling sound to his left made him spin on his heels, and he caught sight of a Siren raise to strike at Antonia like a viper, its gaping maw bright with rows of fangs. Thomas stepped forward in a flash, and brought his first pistol to bear. He fired into the creature’s neck, and with a sickening screech that drown out even the roar of the gun, gore exploded from where the ball impacted. Thomas did not wait to see the Siren fall, as amidst the billow of black powder smoke, he caught another glimpse of advancing grey flesh. 

Dropping his expended pistol, Thomas raised his other weapon. His second shot roared, and he was rewarded with yet another sharp, animalistic squeal of pain. The aim however was not as true as the first, and through the cloud of smoke, a flash of claws struck at Thomas’ right shoulder and chest. Like hot knives, the claws tore into his flesh, and spun him about.

Landing hard upon his knees, Thomas rolled, and brought his free hand to the small of his back to draw his dagger. The Siren was upon him instantly, landing another strike with its right hand across his ribs. Grunting at the searing pain, Thomas watched as his assailant raised its left arm, preparing for another blow. 

Seeing his opportunity, Thomas stabbed upward with his dagger, and buried the sharp blade to its hilt within the Siren’s exposed armpit. Like an injured snake, the Siren immediately bucked itself off of the dagger, and began writhing and flopping in death throes upon the deck. 

Borne up with a torrent of adrenaline, Thomas found himself on his feet. The first two of the dispatched Sirens were forgotten as he looked to ensure that Antonia was still safe. To his great relief, the rogue still knelt, apparently unharmed. In that bare moment Thomas saw that Antonia was lost to the world, as her eyes were distant, almost cloudy in the low light. She seemed transfixed in an all-encompassing dream, and in spite of all that was happening around him, Thomas shivered.

Miraculously, Thomas felt the approach of yet another of the Sirens, and he tore his focus from Antonia just in time to avoid its snapping jaws. Pirouetting away, Thomas spun the emptied pistol that he still clutched, gripping it like a bludgeon as he had done in the brawl just nights before. He brought the brass-capped pistol butt down hard onto the Sirens head, and he was rewarded with a sickening crunch of bone. His other hand came up to deliver a slash with the dagger, when he became paralyzed with gut-wrenching agony.

His eyes flitted downwards to look in horror as another Siren set its fangs into the side of his abdomen. With the breath stripped of his lungs, Thomas’ mouth opened in a silent scream, and his body shook. From where its head was, the Siren looked up at Thomas with black, maleficent eyes. Around the folds of its slimy mouth, rivulets of crimson blood trickled, staining its grey skin, and pooling into the valleys of its face. 

Time seemed to slow in the clutches of the beast. Quaking with shock, Thomas looked up. As if viewing the scene from above himself, Thomas gaze fell to his embattled ship. He saw Nicolette not far off, valiantly throwing herself into the wave of Sirens. He saw Jax at the helm, piloting the [i]Dusk Skate[/i] while all the while keeping the foul creatures at bay. Lastly, he found Antonia, still kneeling, still wrapped in the strange folds of her trance. 

[i]By God, she is so beautiful[/i], he thought. [i]I have failed her. I have failed them all.[/i]

The Siren that held Thomas in its mouth withdrew its fangs, and began moving its head for another bite. As it released him, Thomas began to fall, his legs lacking any strength to hold him. Descending downwards, Thomas reached upward in a last defiant effort. His left hand gripped at the back of the Siren’s neck, and he clasped it with all the force that remained in his fingers. Continuing to fall, the other hand that still clutched the dagger came upward, and with every last vestige of force, Thomas drew the sharp blade across the throat of the Siren.

When at last his back struck the deck, darkness was already ebbing into his vision. He heard only absently the gurgling scream of the Siren whose throat he had slit, and the sounds of the carnage around him dimmed to only a dull din. With eyes affixed distantly into the stars above, Thomas’ last sensation before the black completely overtook him was that of flashes of blinding light, the crack of thunder, the cold caress of falling rain, and the infernal tug of tempest wind.