Free Fable: Edge of the World by Christie Golden

this!”
    “I am no Hero,” said Kalin, “but I have learned how to handle a rifle. Give one to the boy as well. Thank goodness there are only the eight ships.”
    The ships were drawing closer. There was no time to argue, so he merely nodded.
    Finn, not surprisingly, was already in position. His rifle, dubbed “Vanessa,” cracked with what seemed like lightning speed, and the king saw a shape drop with every shot.
    The enemy vessels were converging on the flagship
Queen Laylah
. Only eight they might be, but it was still a terrible sight—eight tall ships manned by the dead. Their eyes shone with an eerie red glow, mimicking the deceptive lanterns that had gulled the king’s navy into thinking the approaching ships were allies.
    “Fire!” came a shout. The ship’s timbers shivered as the port cannons roared, striking one of the Auroran ships full on.
    “What are they?” Shan cradled a rifle at his shoulder andfired. He was nowhere near as good as Ben or the king, but he had clearly used a rifle before.
    “They were once men,” the king answered. He steadied the rifle, held his breath, then exhaled as he pulled the trigger. It struck in the center of a hollow man’s chest, and the walking corpse dropped. “They should have a peaceful rest. Instead, their bodies are inhabited by angry spirits, who would live on at any cost. Most of them are mindless, but not all. Aim for the center of mass. Some of them survive losing arms”—he fired—“legs”—he fired again—“even heads.”
    Shan nodded, reloading. “I have heard of such things,” he said. “But I only ever saw the Shadows and the beast-men—the jakala.”
    Click. Click
. Out of ammunition.
    The air was pierced by screaming—not the angry, take-that-you-rotter shout of one person attacking another, but the scream of someone utterly in terror.
    The king swung around just in time to see four hollow men crawling over the railing. Soldiers were hacking at them wildly, their wits and skill returning. Two of the undead, cut literally to pieces, splashed—multiple times—into the ocean below. The other two made it onto the deck and began fighting, each carrying two pitted but lethal swords.
    The king unsheathed his own sword. Blue-white runes danced along its edges as he swung in a wide arc, cleaving through one of the leathery, skeletal, undead creatures. The red light in its eyes went out. Six more were clambering up the sides.
    “Crossbows!” he cried. “Dip them in pitch and set them aflame! Aim for the sails!”
    He swung again and again, cutting a swath through the lurching things that once were men. A huge boom sounded, and theship shivered again.
Good. Keep firing
. Some would surely be trapped by the sinking ship, and he and the crew could take those that survived as they tried to climb aboard.
    And then suddenly there was another boom, and the king was knocked off his feet as the ship lurched violently to starboard.
    These hollow men were clearly not all mindless.
    The king scrambled to his feet. Other ships in his navy were firing on the hollow men’s ships as well. One of them was almost completely blown to timbers, while another one was halfway sunk. Hollow men were crawling off it like the proverbial rats, heading straight for the
Queen Laylah
.
    “We’re taking on water!” the captain cried. “Your Majesty—what should we do?”
    Panting, the king swiftly assessed the situation. The hollow men seemed exclusively focused on the flagship—and his soldiers were hampered, as they dared not fire their cannons too close to their king.
    “It’s the
Queen Laylah
, and me, they’re after,” he said. “Tell everyone to abandon ship. Have them head for the nearest friendly vessel or else strike out for shore. We’re not that far. Give everyone a few moments to get clear, then have every single ship still afloat target both us and the remaining two enemy vessels.”
    The Auroran captain nodded. The monarch was impressed by his