Darden nodded, “And Krystelle Mora can accompany you as our official representative. She will then continue onward to the King’s Court.”
Marcello slammed his goblet to the table. “This solves nothing. We still don’t know why Sterling Lex took the boy Cenric. Or what to do with Sebastian there.” He squirmed as they all turned to look at him. “Yes, we’ve accepted him as Squire into the Order, but that will provide little safety should Lex return. It is clear to me that he has some connection to the stones.”
“He is a Squire of Gabirel now,” said Teoma. “He has much to learn of sword-craft and the Order will need every able body to recover and rebuild. He can hide here, in plain sight.”
“We do not think that wise.” That was Darden.
“His proximity here to the two stones, and the Eligius Muliach, could prove treacherous…” continued Gerhard.
“We need to keep him far from the stones until we understand more clearly what happened with the Moonstone,” finished Darden.
Lord Damianus, who had heretofore only sat with his head bowed listening to the argument, looked up, “If we wish to keep him far from the Eligium, then perhaps a solution has already presented itself. You wish to delve into his connection to the stones, take him with you to Uriasz.”
Gerhard nodded his agreement. “I believe that is the best course. However, we must make haste. There has not been an extended period without an Arch-mage in living memory. Every day that passes without one increases the risk that Lex will discover the void. You see, the Arch-mage acts almost as a living Eligium, serving as a nexus for the energies of the realm. When one dies, the Council at Uriasz transfers the burden to the next successor.”
“But our time is short, and growing shorter,” said Darden. “The Council is unaware that Arch-mage Philon has died. Traditionally the Arch-Mage travels to Cale Uriasz when they feel their strength failing and the rites can be performed even before their physical death. If Sterling Lex realizes Arch-mage Philon has died without the rites, there are ways he can transfer the nexus to himself.”
Gerhard finished this time, “Making him the Arch-mage.”
Two days later, Sebastian had boarded the Grey Gull at Cale Conall to begin the urgent voyage that had culminated tonight in ruin. The vision, or memory, faded into darkness.
#
Lord Gerhard emerged onto the deck, entering a tableau of swirling chaos. Captain Cyrillus and the crew worked in vain to keep the Gull’s bow pointed into the oncoming sea and the ship under control. She rode high on the crest of one wave only to plunge into the next valley; her bow coming close to foundering. The Captain shouted orders into the wind that somehow the crew, as if by instinct, could follow. It was the discipline and camaraderie of this crew, along with Cyrillus’ friendship with Uriasz that had caused Gerhard to choose the Gull for this journey. Now he feared he may have condemned the entire contingent to death.
Gerhard caught Cyrillus’ eye and he could see defeat welling up in the man, and a plea for the wizard to do something, anything. Bracing himself against the cabin wall, he pulled the dolphin figurine from his cloak and focused his thought on both it and on the storm. Dolphins were said to be good luck for sailors, which was likely why the maker of this particular talisman had chosen that form. He didn’t normally use this kind of physical nexus when spell-casting, but the events of the day had drained him to a point of exhaustion and he would need every ounce of energy to fight this battle.
His spell was a complex one. He had to improvise, drawing on the limits of his knowledge when it came to manipulating the weather. It was easy to cause a storm. Like pushing a boulder from a cliff, the hard part was getting it going. Once it started it would gain momentum on its own, gathering energy from the surrounding elements. To control and even dissipate a storm like this one required a delicate touch. Too much in one direction and he could collapse the storm into a waterspout that would sink the ship. Too much in the other direction and he would send the storm spinning off in some unknown direction. That would save the ship, but would wreak havoc on untold numbers of seaside communities before it died away. No, he had to find just the right balance that would bleed energy from the winds.
He stood his ground against the wind, chanting his spell, with no apparent change in the intensity of the storm. He knew he could not maintain this level of focus for much longer, yet he had to hold on. Just as he was coming to his breaking point, he felt the storm slacken. It wasn’t much, not yet, but it was enough for the crew to make headway on bringing the ship back under control.
A wave swept across the deck, knocking the old wizard off his feet. Swept along by the rushing water, he lost hold of the dolphin figurine and watched as it washed over the side. Seeing him careening towards the railing, a nearby deckhand acted on instinct, throwing himself after Gerhard and grabbing hold of his hand just before he plunged overboard. Helping the old man to the deck, the hand shouted, “It’s not safe up here! You should be below!”
Gerhard shook his head and lurched back to his station by the hatch to the passenger quarters. Exasperated, the deckhand tied a line around the wizard to secure him to the deck. Turning his attention back to the storm, the wizard realized the damage had been done. In the short time the wave distracted him, the storm had built back up to its previous level and the crew was once again losing control of the ship. Without the dolphin talisman there was no way he could bring the storm back down.
Belatedly, he realized that there was another way. Sebastian. His innate ability was strong. Untrained, but strong. It was risky though. Even more so given the unpredictable nature of elven magic. Perhaps he could coach the boy through it. He could see no other options and untied the cord tethering him to the deck. Turning toward the ladder leading below-deck, he saw another giant wave rising above the Gull.
The water came crashing down onto the deck, snapping the main mast with a boom and rushing to enlarge the hole in the deck that Sebastian’s fire had caused earlier that day. The Grey Gull was going down.
#
The darkness overwhelmed Sebastian as he floated in the void. In the distance he could just make out a sound. He moved toward the sound, not with intent or with thought. He just…moved. As he drew near, it became a voice. But whose voice? What words? What was the voice saying? It grew louder, and the darkness was less dark than before.
“Sebastian.” The voice took form. “Sebastian, wake up. You must wake up.” He knew that voice. How did he know that voice?
Smells. It smelled like his aunt’s boiled cabbage, all briny and sulfury. He liked that smell. His aunt’s cabbage was horrible to taste, but the smell made him think of home. Above all, it smelled…green. There was no other way for him to describe it.
“Sebastian!” There was that voice again. So demanding. Why would the voice not leave him be? He wanted to drift back into the gentle oblivion of the darkness. To rest, to dream, to lay down every struggle that had beset him. Perhaps to see his aunt again. And his uncle. His little cousin, Bernice. Such a happy little butterfly until her wings had been torn away.
With a rush, it all came flooding back to him. Quiren Adelwolf. Krystelle. Cenric. Gerlach Pwyll. The Eligium. Ha’vehl’on. The Dazhberg. Sterling Lex. The ship. The storm.
His eyes popped open to the glare of the sun beating down. He could feel its warm rays seeping into his pores, drying him out. For a moment, it was too bright to see much of anything else. Just that brilliant, beautiful sunlight. He blinked twice, clearing the water from his lashes. A face came into view above him, blocking the sun. “Krystelle! What happened? How did we…?”
“Survive? I’m not sure. Perhaps we were just lucky. Let me help you up.” She slid her arm between his and the sand, helping Sebastian into a sitting position, giving him his first good look at their surroundings.
The wreckage of the Gull littered their beach. Pieces of wooden debris, scraps of sailcloth, tangled lines, and even the occasional bit of metal from the rigging. Krystelle was as
water-logged as he, and he guessed they had not been there long. One direction, the beach curved back out of sight behind the forest that grew down to the edge of the sand. In the other direction the waves crashed against a small mountain of craggy rocks. There was no sign in the sky of the storm that had shipwrecked them the previous night.
Now that he was upright, the feeling came back. It was not pleasant. He ached in places he didn’t know he had muscles. He groaned. “I feel awful.”
“Well, what did you expect? You survived a shipwreck!”
“Did anyone else survive?” he asked as he pulled off his soggy linen shirt.
“I do not know. I only just woke a few moments ago myself. I saw you lying there and was afraid I’d lost you too Sebastian.”
“I was afraid you had also! It was so peaceful and so quiet. I felt myself drifting away. For just a moment I thought I would get to see my family again.” Krystelle looked at him in alarm. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got too much invested in this life to throw it away now.”
“Well don’t talk like that. I don’t like hearing you sounding defeated. We are lucky to be alive and having this conversation, you and I!”
“We should search the beach. If we survived, then perhaps others have as well.” Sebastian swung his legs to the side and leaned on one knee to stand. Wobbling, he reached out to Krystelle for support as his legs gave way. He pulled her down with him as he crashed back into the sand, hard. Krystelle landed on top, knocking the wind out of him.
Laying one hand on his chest, she drew her hair back with the other. “I don’t think you’re in any shape to do anything yet. Now you stay there for a bit and rest before you hurt one of us!” She rolled off, pushing him down in the sand. “Truth be told, I don’t think I’m much better off than you. We need to gather our strength, and then we’ll look for other survivors.” Looking up and down the beach, Krystelle took stock of their situation. “I pray that we are not alone here. Wherever here is.” Besides the debris from the wreckage of the Grey Gull, there was no sign that anyone had ever visited this lonely stretch of sand. Other than bone-deep exhaustion, she felt she had survived the storm remarkably well. It was a wonder that neither of them had drowned in the raging seas of the night before, much less washing up on this shoreline rather than being dashed against the distant rocks. She wondered if perhaps Gerhard had a hand in their escape. If so, there was a good chance that he had carried through as well and they would find him somewhere along the shoreline.
She made her way up to the tree-line leading down to the edge of the beach and found that it was not as dense as it appeared from their vantage point close to the water. It was overgrown, to be sure. The gray barked trees had small, olive-shaped leaves running in parallel down each small branch and she could see an array of yellow flowers dotted about.
As she explored, Sebastian thought about the events of the previous evening. There had been no hint of a storm throughout the day and one hallmark of their voyage had been the fact of favorable winds. It was strange to him that out of nowhere a storm had blown in, destroying the Gull. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that Sterling Lex must somehow have been behind the gale. “And if he sent the winds, maybe he caused that fire also,” he said to himself. He took comfort in the idea that perhaps he had not been responsible for the fire after all.
Feeling better, he looked along the beach. “Krystelle!” She turned around at Sebastian’s call. “I think I’m ready.” Making her way back down to he sat. He struggled to rise as she approached, first to his knees, then to his feet. She grabbed two stray pieces of driftwood along the way, pushing one into his hand, and keeping the other for herself.
“Use this for support,” she said. “Better than leaning on me and pulling us both down again. Now…which way to go?”
He gave her a wry look. Nothing was ever easy or simple with her. “I was thinking about that. Towards the rocks I think. We’ll gain elevation and, by the look of the direction of the waves, we must have washed in from there.”
Appraising the way the tide was coming in, she could see his point about the currents. “I think you’re right.”
The two of them trudged down the beach, periodically stopping to investigate a stray bit of wreckage. The closer they got to the rocks, the larger the pieces, which seemed to further substantiate Sebastian’s theory that they had washed in from that direction.
“Look there!” said Krystelle as they drew near the rocks. “Do you see that out under the ledge there?”
Sebastian peered towards where she was pointing. “I don’t see anything.”
“Just there. By those rocks with the streaks of red running through them.”
Looking more closely, Sebastian found the formation she was talking about. “There it is. I see it now. But what is it?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s the largest intact piece of the ship we’ve seen so far. It looks like it might be some sort of crate. Perhaps it's supplies from the ship’s stores.”
“Well, whatever it is the next high tide will wash it away.”
“Sebastian, we should try to recover whatever it is. There might be something in there to help us. If we follow that line of rock, we can come just near enough to grab it. Whatever it is.”
“It’ll be dangerous,” he said.
“But it might just be worth it.”
“No sense in both of us risking our necks then.” Tossing the stick he’d been leaning on to her, Sebastian edged his way out onto the slippery rocks. Step by step, he made his way forward toward the object they’d spotted. Every so often spray from a rogue wave would douse him, but it mattered little. He was still drenched from their near-drowning the night before.
He was about two-thirds of the way out when he came upon a gap in the rocks. Looking about, he could see that there was no way around the fissure. Forced between two rock faces, the sea below roiled in a maelstrom of foam. Down was most definitely not an option. He could see no other way. Before he could think too much about it, he pushed off from his rock, leaping towards the other side.
Crashing into the rock, he slipped down towards the churning water below. He gripped the sharp rocks, struggling to find a foothold and cutting his hands on the rough edges. In the last instant before his grip gave out, his feet found a purchase, and he paused, breathing heavily. He’d made it…barely. Sebastian didn’t want to think about what it would take to get back across.
Once he’d caught his breath again, he pulled himself up onto the rock and looked back toward where Krystelle waited on the beach. Giving her a wave to let her know he was okay, he turned back to the task at hand. He pulled himself farther up the rock face to get a better view of the object. It was a small wooden trunk with leather straps to hold it closed. With a start he recognized it. It was the same trunk Gerhard had been rummaging through during the storm.
Looking back again at Krystelle, he could see she had moved out onto the rocks. She was making her way toward the fissure where he’d made his leap. It must have been obvious to her he would need her help in getting the piece of wreckage back. Pressing forward, he was even more determined to get the trunk now that he knew it belonged to the wizard.
He scrambled down to the ledge overhanging the trunk and leaned himself over. Stretching himself out with one arm reaching for the trunk and the other grasping the rock to keep him from tumbling over he was just able to grab hold of one strap. Muscles straining, he pulled the trunk up next to him, thankful for those many hours toiling on his uncle’s farm and all the conditioning he had done since, training with the sword.
He sat up and glanced back to see that Krystelle was almost to the fissure. Good. The trunk was lighter than he’d expected and he should have no trouble tossing it across to her. He shouted back, “I’ve got it! Wait just there.” She waved back in agreement.
Rising to his feet, he stooped over to pick up the trunk and a flash of color on the ledge below caught his eye. “Hold on a moment! There's som
ething else down there.” Crouching back down on the rock, he leaned out over the edge, straining to see. There it was. A broken and battered body hung over the rocks. The face was bruised and bloody, and the feet dangled just above the swirling water. The waves, which had seemed almost cheerful a moment ago, took on a keening note as if the ocean itself shared his sorrow. It was Captain Cyrillus.
#
With Krystelle’s help, Sebastian got the trunk back across the fissure and made the leap himself. “What was it? What did you see out there?” she asked.
He shook his head. “When we get off this rock.” Handing the case back and forth between them in the tricky spots, the two of them made their way back down the outcropping to the shoreline. They could see from their vantage point that the rocks continued on around the island in that direction, making further exploration hazardous.
Finally, they climbed off the rocks and set the trunk in the sand. “Now, what was on that rock Sebastian?”
“Captain Cyrillus…he’s dead.”
She looked at him in shock. “What are you talking about?”
“It was his body on the rock Krystelle. I’m so sorry.”
“And you left him there! What if he’s injured? What if he’s dying right now? We have to save him!” Tears streaming down her face, she turned back to the rocks.
Sebastian took hold of her arm. “Krystelle…wait…” she slapped him, hard.
“Let go of me! I’m not losing him too.”
Ignoring the slap, he pulled her in close. “He’s gone Krystelle. You didn’t see what I saw.”
Sobbing, she gripped his tunic. “He can’t be. He just can’t. It’s too much.”
For all the grief he’d experienced himself in the past year, Sebastian had little experience comforting others. All he knew to do was to hold her and let her cry. After a time, the flow of tears slowed and Krystelle came back to herself. Pulling back, she looked up at him, “I’m sorry.”
Eligium- The Complete Series Page 22
