by PT Hylton
With that, she turned and trotted east down the street, toward the wall that faced the forest. Even though they were a dozen blocks from the wall, she could hear shouts and the sounds of fighting.
Thankfully the recruits had come dressed for battle, wanting to impress each other. In the case of some, that meant they clutched a shoddy-looking spear or sword. It was better than nothing.
Elliot came up beside her as they ran. “Looks like Dahlia’s Barskall finally made their move.”
“Looks like,” Abbey agreed. It was surprising. They’d waited for so long that it seemed like they had some sort of plan. Surely word of Dahlia’s demise had reached them. It was common knowledge in Holdgate, and Abbey wasn’t naive enough to think the Barskall didn’t have a few spies in the city.
Yet here they were, attacking at dusk like it was just another raid. Abbey wasn’t going to complain, though. If they wanted to make it a straightforward fight, that was perfectly fine with her.
They reached the wall, and Abbey grabbed one of the city guards sprinting along its base. “Hey, where can we help?”
The guard pointed up. “They’ve got ladders, and they climb as fast as spiders. They’re all strung out on that damn potion of theirs.”
Abbey nodded and ran to the nearest staircase leading to the top of the wall. She paused at the base and turned to her crew. “Follow me to the top. The recruits and I will line up along the edge, knocking down their ladders and killing any Barskall who make it to the top. Elliot, Fannar, Gideon: you hang back and kill the ones who make it past the recruits.”
Elliot looked offended. “You want us at the back?”
“I need my best fighters making damn sure no Barskall get off this wall.”
Dag took a step forward. “Don’t worry, ma’am. They won’t get past us.”
“I like you already. And Gideon?” She turned to the Stone Shaper. “Please refrain from turning our wall into a giant shovel or something. We kind of need it for defense of the city.”
With that, she scurried up the stairs.
The scene at the top was chaos. There was as many Barskall as there were city guards. Abbey went to work immediately. She charged at the nearest Barskall, slamming her shoulder into him and sending him reeling over the edge onto his friends below.
She took down another one, driving her blade through his heart before she remembered what she’d promised the recruits. She’d said she was going to lead them, which meant she couldn’t lose herself to the battle the way she sometimes did.
As recruits reached the top of the wall she assigned them places near the edge, a five-foot piece of real estate they were responsible for ensuring no Barskall crossed. Once they were all set, she took her own place among them, stationing herself at the spot where the Barskall were most frequently placing their ladders.
Five minutes into the fighting Abbey scanned up and down to line to ensure the recruits were holding their own, and was pleased to find they were doing very well. Elliot, Fannar, and Gideon were easily dispatching the few Barskall who got past the frontline, and as far as she could tell only one of the recruits had sustained a serious injury—a nasty stab through the arm.
Satisfied, she turned back to the darkness beyond the wall and prepared for the next wave of the attack. To her surprise, it never came.
After a few minutes of silence, she took a step back and scanned the line again. The fighting had stopped everywhere.
“Stay frosty,” she called in a loud voice. “This isn’t over, not by a long shot.”
The recruits waited at the ready, gazing out into the darkness beyond the wall.
But Abbey was wrong—there were no more attacks that night. What they had thought was a full-scale Barskall assault had ended as suddenly as it had begun.
***
The next three days were quiet in Holdgate. There were no more attacks, and though the city guard conducted numerous searches into the forest beyond the eastern wall, they found no more Barskall.
The whole thing left Abbey feeling uneasy. Why would a small group of Barskall attempt such an obviously doomed attack on the city? There was only one answer Abbey could come up with: to test them. To see how they responded to an attack, and to find out how long it took them to mount a proper defense—all information that would be useful later when they mounted their real attack.
Abbey wasn’t the only one upset, though some felt that way for completely different reasons.
“It’s not fair,” Olaf grumbled. “I take Hekla out on an evening cruise one time and this is what happens? I miss an entire battle?”
“Are you still complaining?” Abbey asked. The two of them were aboard The Foggy Day, preparing for the arrival of the recruits. First they’d go out for a day cruise to let the recruits feel what life was like on the open water. Then, in two days, they’d be leaving on their first real voyage, a trip southeast along one of the more popular fishing routes.
“It’s not complaining. It’s regret over a missed opportunity.” Olaf worked as he talked, coiling a bit of rope into its proper location. They wanted the ship looking perfect the first time the recruits saw it. That would set the bar for how they were expected to maintain it. “I mean, you all did fine. You won the battle. I’m not saying you didn’t.”
“That’s good to hear,” Abbey said dryly.
“But can you imagine how it would have gone if I’d been there? If I’d’ve been on top of that wall with my flaming sword, the Barskall would have taken down their ladders and run off into the woods in fear, drunk on seiderdrek or not.”
Abbey couldn’t help but laugh. Sometimes she couldn’t tell if Olaf was being purposely ridiculous, or if he really believed his over-the-top boasts. “I take it you’re getting more consistent with your fire magic?”
“Consistency is overrated. I mean, sure, sometimes when I’m practicing with your father it doesn’t go as well as it could, but in the heat of a battle when my blood is rushing with the thrill of the fight? I guarantee it will be no problem.” He stood up and stretched, putting his hands against the small of his back. “Hey, let me ask you something. Back when Captain Tor was holding The Foggy Day hostage that first time, I heard you cast a fireball and set his mainsail on fire. Is that true?”
“Yeah.” As much as Abbey didn’t like it, her rescue of The Foggy Day had become part of her legend.
Olaf frowned. “I don’t get it. I’ve never seen you conjure a single fireball. If you have that kind of power, why don’t you use it? Especially when your life is on the line?”
Abbey thought a moment before answering. “To be honest, I don’t think I could do it in the heat of battle. I hid belowdecks for what must have been an hour before I cast that fireball on Thunderclap. I’ve occasionally moved things with magic during battle. I did it to Captain Tor in our swordfight on top of the city wall, and I pulled Dustin through the water once, but it’s not reliable, and I feel drained afterwards.”
Olaf tilted his head. “Huh…it’s the opposite for me. When I cast fire, it energizes me. It’s like—I don’t know—something inside me is doing what it was designed to do.”
“Yes!” Abbey had been trying to put that same feeling into words. “That’s how I feel when I change the weight of things. With other magic I have to force it, but when I change the weight of things it’s like I’m using my magic. Doing what I was built to do.”
The sound of a person clambering up the gangplank interrupted their conversation. A moment later, Dustin stepped onto the deck. “Hey, Abbey, I’m glad I found you.”
“We were just talking about the battle the other night,” Abbey said.
Dustin nodded. “You think it’s possible that we’ve been overestimating the size of the Barskall force this whole time? Maybe that was all of them.”
Abbey raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? No way. If their force was that small, they wouldn’t have attacked Holdgate. They’d have focused on the smaller villages.”
“Maybe you’re righ
t,” Dustin said. He sounded distracted. “Listen, there was something I wanted to tell you. Olaf, you should hear this, too.”
He paused for a long moment before continuing. Abbey could tell he was having trouble getting the words out.
Finally he spoke. “After this next voyage, I’m going back to Thunderclap.”
Abbey waited in shocked silence, not knowing what to say. She’d known he hadn’t officially given up his position on Thunderclap, but she’d assumed it would only be a matter of time before he did.
And yet, why should he? Thunderclap was the flagship of the fleet, and stormcalling on that ship was the highest position a Storm Caller could attain. Not only that, the flagship deserved the best Storm Caller, and that was clearly Dustin. It made sense.
So why was she so surprised?
Olaf put her thoughts into words before she was able to. “I don’t understand. You and Abbey are a team. I mean, the things you two have accomplished... Why would you split up?”
Dustin didn’t meet either of their eyes. “You could make the argument that’s why we should split up. Spread the awesome, rather than keeping it all on one ship.” No one laughed at his dumb joke. “It wasn’t an easy decision. In the end, I thought Thunderclap was where I could do the most good.”
Abbey nodded slowly. “I understand. You and Captain Roy will make a great team. Again. Did you tell Syd?”
“Yeah.” The Storm Caller cracked a smile. “She let out a string of curses so long I almost missed lunch, but she said she understood. She knew I was just a short-timer on The Foggy Day. She agreed that it was time for me to go back to my real assignment.”
“We’ll miss you,” Abbey said.
A look of horror suddenly appeared on Olaf’s face. “We’re not going to get that blind Storm Caller Syd had before, are we?”
Dustin chuckled. “Let’s hope not. Listen, let’s keep this between us for now. I don’t want the rest of the crew to know until after this voyage. I want them focused, not wondering who their next Storm Caller might be.”
“You got it.” Abbey still couldn’t believe it. Only one more voyage with Dustin, then they would go their separate ways.
CHAPTER FIVE
The night before The Foggy Day was scheduled to leave on their voyage, Abbey had her first real dream since returning to Holdgate. The first dream that felt true.
It began with her floating over the greenest hills she’d ever seen. These weren’t the dramatic mountains of Kaldfell. These were smaller rolling things that stretched as far into the distance as she could see.
This was the same land she’d dreamed about in Gren, she realized. No sooner had she made the connection than the now-familiar woman’s voice began to speak.
“I found you. You went far away, but I found you.”
It took Abbey a moment to find her own voice. “Who are you? Why are you looking for me?”
“I already told you in the other dreams—we need help. The monsters are coming.” The way the woman said it contained no panic. She was simply stating a fact.
“I don’t understand. How are you talking to me in my dream?”
“It’s my boon,” the woman said. “My gift. I can read dreams. Not individually, but I can read the collective dreams of cities and countries.”
Abbey struggled to understand what the woman meant. It would have been difficult even if she hadn’t been soaring through the air, unable to control her movement.
“Very rarely,” the woman continued, “I can communicate through dreams. Only with certain people. Apparently you’re one of them, but you seem so far away now.”
“I was in Gren the first time you came into my dream,” Abbey said. “You know Gren?”
“Only through their dreams. I’m…lower, I think.” There was a long pause, then the woman continued, “I see something happening in the dreams of the world. For the first time in years, people are inspired. They’re inspired by the ones rising up and fighting for justice.”
Suddenly the world around Abbey changed. She saw images flashing before her, brief glimpses of people she’d never seen before.
A woman riding on the back of a dragon with a ship floating through the air behind her.
Another woman, this one watching evil-doers through the eyes of the animals of the forest.
A woman with red hair commanding the shadows to do her bidding.
A dark haired woman standing next to a tiger.
Finally, she saw a woman with a white robe a gold belt standing in a city—Arcadia?—and she saw her face change until she looked like someone else.
And then Abbey saw herself, sword raised as she rode the wind, speeding toward an enemy.
“You saw all this in dreams?” Abbey asked.
“These women inspire people. Their actions have taken root in the minds of those around them and changed their dreams. They’ve given people hope.”
All these women were using their power to help others? Abbey once again wondered if this was real—or just something she wanted to be true.
“These women and their powers,” Abbey asked, trying to find the right words. “Is this something new?”
The woman laughed, and the images in front of Abbey seemed to shimmer with the sound of it. “Oh, no. Old dreams leave echoes, and sometimes I’m able to read those, too. The way I understand it, this one is something very old.”
Another scene appeared in front of Abbey: a woman dressed in strange clothing, striding confidently down a corridor. She passed many men and women, and as she did they all murmured in respectful tones, calling her many names. One stood out among the others: “Queen Bitch.”
Abbey blinked hard, and she was once again flying over the rolling hills. “I don’t understand all this.”
“Neither do I,” the woman replied, “but I know you can help us. Look for the symbol. It will guide you.”
A final image appeared, one she’d seen in a dream on the way back from Gren.
It was a skull that looked almost human, except for the teeth. A pair of bones crossed behind the skull, and behind that was the image of batwings.
Abbey squinted at the symbol. “I have no idea where to start looking.”
“Neither do I, but you must start. When you find it, you will be able to find me.”
The image disappeared and Abbey saw a dark, gaping hole in one of the hills. Enormous shadows were climbing out of it and crawling in all directions.
Then the scene went black and Abbey floated in darkness.
***
She woke with a start, the dream still swirling in her mind. It had felt so real, but now that she was awake, she couldn’t be sure that the voice of the woman hadn’t been conjured by her mind.
And yet, if it were true, she had to act.
Her father had told her of the mystics who had a temple near Arcadia. They could enter the mind. Was it possible they could enter dreams?
Abbey didn’t know, but she did know that wherever that woman was, it was far from Arcadia. She’d said Abbey had been closer when she was in Gren. Was it possible she was in Barskall? Or was it somewhere else, somewhere Abbey had never heard of?
The thought excited her. If there were people in a strange country, she wanted to see them for herself. She wanted to see if those beautiful rolling hills were real. She wanted to find out if there were really monsters. And if there were, she wanted to fight them.
She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes and the pressure cleared her mind a little. Suddenly the dream felt less important. Even if the woman asking for help were real, Abbey needed to take care of other things before she could even think about trying to find that mysterious symbol.
Regardless of what the doubters said, the Barskall were in the mountains, and they were planning something. Stormships were disappearing. Even though the Holdgate fleet appeared to be in top shape, it was in more danger than ever.
And unlike when she had been fighting Dahlia, now she didn’t even know who the enemy wa
s or what they wanted from Holdgate.
There was no way the Barskall were being this patient without someone else guiding them.
Abbey didn’t have the answers, but she intended to find them.
She considered going back to sleep, but from the faint light coming through the window she knew the sun was beginning to rise. She got up and ate a quick breakfast. As she did, she looked around the apartment. She wouldn’t be seeing it for a while, since their journey was about to begin.
They were only scheduled to be gone a week, but if there was one thing she’d learned in her time as a stormship sailor, it was not to take anything for granted. Especially schedules.
Every time she pulled out of the Holdgate harbor, she knew there was a possibility she wouldn’t be coming back.
***
Benjamin started to push open the door to the shop, but he paused; the place was no longer his. It now belonged to Augustus. Benjamin had officially turned the shop over to him the day before, and now he wasn’t sure of the correct way to proceed in this situation. Should he knock? Walk right in?
In the end, he settled on a combination. He pushed the door open, knocking as he entered.
Augustus gave him a friendly nod as he saw him. A sheen of sweat covered the young blacksmith’s forehead.
Benjamin cast a discerning eye around the shop. Something felt different. The forge, the anvil, and the tool bench were all in the usual places, but then he saw it.
“You moved the workbench.”
August nodded sheepishly. “It felt like it would be better for my working style if I put it here.”
Benjamin resisted the urge to tell the younger man why it would not be better there. He’d had it placed in that very spot himself for a while. Still, there were some lessons a man needed to learn for himself. This was Augustus’ shop now, and he could make his own mistakes.
“Looks like you’re getting settled in,” Benjamin said. In truth, he was impressed with how far the young man had come in only a day. Most of the equipment had been left by Benjamin, but Augustus was already making the shop his own.
