Fuguki staggered from Zabuza's blow, but his roar of frustration rose above the crack of Marine muskets.
—Raiga! —the giant bellowed, thrusting Samehada toward the ship's bow—. Don't let them escape! Kill them all!
Freed from the crystal dome, Raiga burst forward in a flare of blue lightning. With a snarl, he lunged for the bow where Haku had just appeared. The air filled with static and ozone as he drew in power for a killing strike. Haku, drained by the effort of his technique, could only watch him coming. He had no time to react.
Two chains shot out of the fog and snapped around Raiga's wrists, yanking him short before he could reach the ship. Gōzu and Meizu emerged from the shadows of the warehouses, planting their feet on the slick boards and hauling hard enough to drag his heels across the dock. Blue sparks crawled uselessly over the metal hooks as Raiga snarled and strained against them.
—We've got you, you little lightning rat —one of the brothers growled.
—Zabuza! Move! —Meizu shouted.
Zabuza took the opening without hesitation. With a roar, he threw himself at the last ropes still holding the ship to Northstar's dock. The hull groaned as the vessel finally tore free, and the current began dragging it toward the black water beyond the harbor.
Gōzu released one of the chains first.
—Meizu.
Meizu let go at once. Raiga barely had a second before both brothers gave one last savage pull, throwing him off balance. His boots slipped on the wet timber, and blue static flashed over his clenched teeth. Neither of them stayed to finish him. They jumped back onto the ship just as the current pulled it farther from the pier.
Raiga was already back on his feet.
—Cowards!
Lightning ran down his arms and into the fallen chains like blue poison. The ship pulled away with a long wooden groan. Haku grabbed the mast with one hand to keep from losing his footing as the deck lurched beneath him.
Then he heard the impact.
It came from the water.
Something slammed into the hull hard enough to shake the entire vessel. Haku turned and saw Fuguki rise out of the sea with one hand locked around Samehada. The sword was no longer wrapped; its scales opened and closed in a wet shudder, dragging him forward as if it had a will of its own. Seawater streamed down his face and shoulders as he hauled half his body over the rail.
—Got you.
Samehada bit into the deck before he was even fully aboard. Splinters burst across the planks. Haku moved before he could think. Crystal exploded in front of him in a spray of white shards, aimed not at the giant's chest but at his face and sword hand. Fuguki threw up his forearm. The first needles sank into flesh. The rest shattered against Samehada with a dry screech, and the blade jerked in his grip like a living beast that had just been struck.
—Now! —Meizu snapped.
The brothers moved together. Gōzu came in low, driving straight for Fuguki's side, while Meizu came from above with the chain, trying to trap both the giant's neck and sword arm in the same motion. Fuguki roared and ripped half the chain away with one violent pull, hurling Meizu into the mast. The wood boomed. Gōzu still managed to force one ugly thrust beneath Fuguki's shoulder before the giant answered with a brutal headbutt that staggered him backward.
Haku attacked again, sending another burst of crystal across the deck. Between the shards and the brothers' assault, Fuguki's footing finally broke. He slipped only once, but on a wet deck with the ship still fighting free of the harbor, once was enough.
—Zabuza! —Haku shouted.
Zabuza came in half dragging himself, forcing his battered body between Gōzu and Meizu. He found the opening and drove forward. Fuguki crashed backward into the rail. Samehada scraped across the wood with a vicious shriek, and for a second it looked as if the giant might claw his way back aboard.
Then Raiga hurled another bolt from the dock.
It struck between the ship and the water. Light exploded across the deck. Haku lost his footing. Gōzu caught the handrail. Meizu cursed. Fuguki vanished from sight in a black splash. For a brief moment all anyone heard was the crackle of electricity, the slap of waves, and the groan of the ship being dragged farther into the current.
Meizu spat blood over the side and looked at Zabuza.
—The four of us aren't getting out.
Zabuza said nothing. He did not need to. Gōzu had already understood. He straightened, took a single breath, and headed for the rail. Meizu followed, half a chain still hanging from his wrist. Haku turned toward them, his voice breaking through the chaos.
—What are you doing?
Meizu bared his teeth. It was not quite a grin.
—Buying you time, kid.
Gōzu planted one heavy hand on the edge of the ship and looked at Zabuza without ceremony.
—Get her out of here.
Then the brothers jumped again.
Raiga was already coming, lightning breaking around his arms as he closed the distance once more. Gōzu hit him head-on, and Meizu snapped the chain around his arm before he could reach the ship. The three of them went over the side together in a tangle of steel, static, and black water.
Behind them, a Marine warship was already pushing into the harbor, rifles raised. Its lanterns cut through the smoke and darkness like pale, unblinking eyes. The first shots rang out over the water as the ship carrying Zabuza and Haku drifted farther from the dock, still too slow, still too close.
Zabuza forced himself to the stern. He was barely standing. His injured shoulder hung uselessly at his side, and blood ran from his fingers onto the deck. He looked back once, toward the dock, the Marines, and the place where Gōzu, Meizu, and Raiga had vanished into the water.
Then he turned his gaze toward the sea.
And the mist came.
It rose all at once from the black water, thick and bitterly cold. In seconds it swallowed the rail, the mast, and the bow. It devoured the lantern light of the Marines, the flashes of gunfire, and the entire harbor beyond. Northstar vanished inside a wall of white.
Haku turned toward the helm without seeing anything anymore. The wheel trembled beneath his hands as he fought to keep the ship steady. Somewhere behind the fog came the muffled crack of muskets and the distant roar of men shouting, but all of it was being smothered by the growing white veil.
The mist kept building. It was thicker than before, heavier, as if Zabuza were pouring out everything he had left. The air became so cold it hurt to breathe. Haku felt it in his lungs, on his skin, even through the porcelain mask, and yet the fog only deepened as the current pulled them farther from Northstar.
When Haku finally looked back, Zabuza was already collapsing. He dropped to one knee first. One hand struck the deck to keep himself upright. Then even that failed him. He pitched sideways onto the planks, unconscious, while the mist still rolled around the ship like the final remnant of his will.