Free Divide and Conquer by Carrie Ryan Page B

them.
    From the shore, men shouted for him to jump, but he couldn’t give up. If the SQuare was destroyed, it wouldn’t matter that Dak survived the fire — they’d never be able to fix the Great Breaks and avoid the Cataclysm.
    Wind whipped around him, feeding the flames and sending smoke spiraling into the sky. The flaming ships were drawing dangerously close to the bridge. If the Vikings succeeded in catching the bridge on fire, it would collapse and they’d have free reign up the Seine to the cities and villages beyond.
    That bridge wasn’t just protecting Paris, but also the rest of France — and the future of Europe. It was the only thing keeping Siegfried and the rest of the SQ from amassing even more power.
    Suddenly, Dak’s priorities were split. He had to find the SQuare, but he also had to make sure the flaming boat didn’t make it to the bridge. Which was more important?
    With a sinking stomach, he abandoned the search for the SQuare and pulled out an axe he’d found among the battlefield debris. He began swinging it at a seam between two boards of the hull, trying to make an opening. The wood was thick and solid, and Dak despaired of making any headway, but heat from the fire must have already weakened it because a crack began to form.
    Billowing smoke choked the air around him, making his eyes water and lungs burn. The fire burned fiercely, consuming everything as it made its way toward the bow where Dak hacked furiously at the hull.
    The wood groaned in protest and then a spurt of water sprayed up through a small hole in the bottom of the boat. It only took three more whacks with the axe for a healthy amount of water to begin filling the boat, slowing its progress toward the bridge.
    Dak was almost out of time. The fire had already eaten its way past the mast, destroying more than half of the shields along the way. As fast as possible Dak checked the rest of the ship for the SQuare. Water dragged at his feet, climbing up his calves.
    He found the SQuare in the very last place left to be checked. The bag holding it was already drenched, and he pulled the SQuare free and slipped it into the waistband of his pants under his tunic.
    With a whoop of success he leapt from the ship, landing knee-deep in the shallows of the river. As he fought his way against the current toward shore he watched as the ship took on more water and began listing to its side before capsizing and sinking just as its bow struck a grouping of rocks used to support the bridge.
    The other boats fared no better, crashing against the sunken boat just shy of the bridge. It was a beautiful sight to Dak, and he felt a surge of pride at having accomplished both tasks. He’d rescued the SQuare
and
kept the Vikings from scoring a hit against Paris. All in all, Dak was pretty much a hero as far as he was concerned.
    Before he could gloat too much, Dak was forcibly spun around. Gorm, the scarred Viking, grabbed him by the tunic, almost lifting him from the ground. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” His face was so close that spit flew from his mouth with every word, peppering Dak’s cheeks.
    “I . . .” He scrambled for some sort of excuse and came up empty. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    The Viking wrenched the axe from Dak’s grip and tossed it into the river. Dak started to protest but thought better of it.
    Dak was caught. He struggled to get free of the man’s grasp but it was useless. Without a weapon he had no hope against someone so much stronger and larger.
    The Viking grinned in an unpleasant way, the scar across his face causing his features to twist. “I know someone who will be
very
interested in speaking with you.”

I T STARTED raining when the sun set, and Sera was drenched. Her teeth chattered as she huddled under the shelter of an old empty barn.
    “At least the weather put an end to most of the fighting,” Bill suggested, trying to find something to be cheerful about. Sera only grunted