“A moment, friend Farrell.” Rayden held tight to his weight belt. “Argus is preparing a force to accompany you to the surface and aid your friends. It will take only a few minutes.”
“Minutes they may not have.” Farrell lost his focus and unconsciously started to draw power into himself. A dozen ideas on how to reach Miceral drifted in and out of his thoughts.
“Stay calm.” Teberus placed a gnarled but powerful hand on Farrell’s arm. “The few seconds it will take to reach the correct decision will not be the difference between life and death.”
“Why can’t I reach them?”
Teberus ignored the question and turned to his nephew. “Prepare your troops, but we must send Farrell to his friends now. We can follow after him.”
Clayden nodded as the wizard turned to his niece. “How quickly can you summon assistance to bear our friend to his vessel without delay?”
“I alerted several dolphin pods to attend me the moment I heard the message.” Burcia looked to her guard, who gave her a quick nod. “I expect them any time.”
“Excellent. Have them meet us at the entrance to the temple.” Teberus didn’t wait for an answer before returning his focus to Farrell. “Chosen, I do not know for sure why you can’t speak to your mate. Were I to hazard a guess, it has to do with Arritisa. Our people were meant to remain a secret. If your people could hear our voices, we would be discovered. But that is only a guess.”
The answer, while sensible, frustrated him. Why would Arritisa send him to a place where he couldn’t reach any of his friends? No, wait. “That can’t be right. When I was testing the spell last night, I was able to speak to Miceral.”
Was Arritisa deliberately blocking him?
“There could be many reasons why it worked while you were in close proximity to your mate and why it won’t work now. Maybe it is the city, the amount of water between you two, the materials we use to build our city. Maybe Arritisa has prevented your thoughts from leaving our city. But finding an answer will only delay your reaching your friends.”
The urge to argue each point had to be tamped down. Teberus was right. He needed to reach the Seafoam Rose as soon as possible. The mystery could wait for another time.
“Agreed. We can revisit the why another day.”
“Correct.” Teberus brought a webbed hand to his lips. “I know your thoughts are with your mate and friend, but I have one last gift to give you. Perhaps the most important yet. This is our most powerful spell, and only someone capable of controlling enormous amounts of power can hope to cast it. Done right, the entire power and fury of the ocean are yours to command. But it requires your full concentration.”
Farrell took a moment to comprehend what he’d heard. “Is there time?”
“If you trust me, there is. Let us join minds so I can teach you instantly.”
Perhaps if the danger to Miceral and Peter hadn’t been so imminent, Farrell might have taken more time to consider the request. Instead, he reached out a link for the other wizard to take. With their minds joined, Farrell “watched” as Teberus executed the spell twice. Teberus let go of the link, and Farrell left his mind.
Farrell blinked as he assimilated the new knowledge. “A gift whose worth is beyond my ability to return.”
“Not so. As Chosen of our Blessed Mother, you fight for us all. Consider it part of Rastoria’s contribution to your cause.” Teberus bowed and stepped back.
“Come with me, Chosen. I shall personally swim you to your escorts.” Clayden reached out and removed the heavy belt from Farrell’s waist. “Argus and his force will follow as soon as they can.”
“My thanks to you all.” He bowed first to Teberus, then turned toward Burcia. “High Priestess, please convey my gratitude to Arritisa for Her gifts. One day I hope to have the privilege of hosting you in my kingdom. I fear, however, it will appear dull and ugly compared to your home, but nevertheless it would be my privilege to be your host.”
Farrell grabbed hold of Clayden’s shoulder just before the king pushed off with a powerful surge. With nothing else to occupy his thoughts, his worst fears returned.
“Hold on, Miceral. I’m on my way.” Even if Miceral couldn’t hear him, he needed to say it.
WHEN THE sun reached midday, Miceral felt Klissmor’s touch in his mind. “A message was relayed to Farrell. He is racing to reach you, but he is a great distance away.”
“That’s good news.” Kind of good, at least. “Can you speak to him?”
“No. The Holy Mother advised us that Arritisa prevents communication with those under the waves. Your mate was told to make for the surface so he can contact you. This too will take some time. I wish my message brought you better news.”
“Knowing he’s on the way gives us hope. We just need to stay alive until he reaches us. Thank you, old friend.” Klissmor withdrew, leaving Miceral to wonder if he’d ever speak to the unicorn again.
“Peter, go tell the—” He stopped when he realized a merc would not give orders to a prince. “Captain Nathan!” Miceral shouted above the wind. When the older man turned, he said, “I’ve made contact with Kelvin. He’s trying to get back as quickly as he can. He’s a great distance away, however, so we need to keep ahead of them until he gets here.”
Nathan scowled, tossing a hand in the air. “Perhaps you can get out and ask them to kindly slow down and give us time for our wizard to get here and blast them to tiny bits.”
“I could, but that would require you stop the vessel. I’m no sailor, but that seems counterproductive to my request.” He flashed a big grin, which was returned by the captain.
“Aye, lad, that it would.” The captain stared up at the sails. “I’ll keep the Rose running downwind, to Neblor with direction. But I’ve got this lady running as fast as she’s ever gone, and they’re still gaining on us. Let’s hope Master Kelvin gets here in time.”
Miceral nodded. Like everyone else on board, he kept one eye on the sun and the other on the pursuing vessel. The sun moved too slowly and the distance between the ships closed too rapidly.
As the pirate vessel drew nearer, Miceral saw a hint of something on the other ship. Turning to Peter, he said, “Stay here. I need to find Emerson.”
The first mate stood under the mainsail, barking orders to the crew. “Mr. Emerson.”
“What do you need, Elgin?” His tone told Miceral he felt the stress.
“I think the enemy might have a ballista or catapult on deck.” That got the officer’s attention. “I mean, most pirate ships carry them now. If they have one and they disable our sails, we’ll for sure not elude them.”
Emerson followed Miceral back to where Peter stood. Scanning the distant ship with a brass spyglass, Emerson stood silent for several moments. “It is hard for me to tell. We’re still too far away.”
“May I?” Miceral held out his hand.
Emerson handed him the instrument. “Not that it will do you any good. I have darn near perfect sight, and I can’t tell.”
Miceral tuned out the man’s voice and focused the approaching vessel. His inspection provided no new insights, but just before he gave up, he spotted a man walking to the bow.
“Take a look now.” He handed the small telescope back to the first mate. “I thought I saw them bring a spear to the bow that could only be fired from a ballista.”
Emerson stood quietly, his eye trained where Miceral directed. Finally he collapsed the spyglass and shook his head. “I can’t tell what it was, but it doesn’t look like anything a man could throw. Either way, I think you’re correct. They have something in the bow they mean to turn on us.”
After staring at their enemy a bit longer, Emerson handed Miceral the brass tube. “Keep a watch on them while I see if we can’t coax a bit more speed from the Rose.”
Over the next hour, little changed except tensions mounted as the pirate vessel crept ever nearer. Miceral did his best to maintain a close watch, looking for any sign of increased activity. Keeping his focus pro
ved difficult when nothing happened.
“Miceral?” Farrell’s voice in his mind caused Miceral to jump.
“Farrell!” He noted Peter’s stare and mouthed his partner’s name. “Where in Neblor are you?”
“As best I can tell, north and west of you. What’s your situation?” Farrell’s voice held the same angst Miceral observed on the faces around him.
“The pirates are closing in on us.” He tried to keep his mental voice calm. Panic wouldn’t bring Farrell any sooner. “My best estimate is they’ll overtake us in two hours, definitely less than three. But I think they have a ballista on board. If they use it to foul our rigging or rip our sails, they’ll catch us sooner. We could really use your help.”
“I’m trying. Really I am.” The frustration in Farrell’s voice made Miceral feel a bit guilty that he’d added the last sentence. “I don’t have a good enough image to open a Door to a moving ship and I can’t risk flying, because if I miss you, I might not make it in time. This way is slower, but the dolphins assure me they know where you are.”
“I know you’re doing your best. Can they tell you when you’ll be here?”
“My guides don’t understand time like we do, so it’s hard to judge what they’re telling me. I know we’re not close, but we should arrive well before sunset. Sorry I can’t be more specific.”
Given the rate the corsair closed on them, Miceral still doubted Farrell would make it in time. “Just hurry. Please.”
Farrell didn’t reply immediately. Before he could ask if something was wrong, Farrell’s voice reappeared in his mind.
“Sorry, I was trying to speak with you and the dolphins at once. From what they can tell, it will probably take us about the same amount of time to reach you as it will take the pirates. We’re farther away, but we can travel faster. If, however, they manage to slow you down, they will get there before me.”
“Understood. Be careful.”
“Ha!” Despite Farrell’s laugh, he didn’t sound amused. “I’m not the one about to be attacked by pirates. You be careful.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I love you, Ral. Please be in one piece when I get there.”
The anguish in his partner’s voice almost overwhelmed Miceral “It will take more than a few pirates to keep me from you.”
“I have to go. My new escorts tell me we can travel faster underwater without having to fight the waves.” Miceral felt the link go silent.
“What did he say?” Peter barely contained his fear.
“That he’s on his way, but it’s anyone’s guess if he beats the pirates to the Rose.” Miceral waved the first mate to their position. “Don’t mention this conversation to Emerson.”
“Understood.”
When Emerson came down to check on them, Miceral spoke first. “I’ve noticed more activity. I’m thinking we’re almost in range of whatever they’ve got on deck.”
Emerson stared over the bow. “I’ll advise the captain and let him decide our next move.”
Miceral watched the first officer and captain speak. Nathan looked at the approaching corsair, then nodded to Emerson. The two began barking orders, sending sailors running around.
The sails fluttered briefly as the men worked to trim the canvas. The Seafoam Rose slowed slightly but then quickly surged ahead. A loud splash off the port side drew everyone’s attention. Although he didn’t see what happened, Miceral knew they’d been fired upon.
Emerson and the captain worked in tandem, shouting orders as they prepared another maneuver. On the pirate ship, Miceral saw brigands scurrying about.
“Peter, come here.” He handed the teen the spyglass. “I’m going to try to knock out their catapult. Watch where my javelins land and let me know immediately how far off the mark I am.”
Miceral squinted, trying to gauge the distance as best he could. After testing the weight and balance of his weapon, he leaned back and let the magically altered spear fly. He watched it arc all the way to the vessel, where it disappeared from view.
“Ten feet too far, four feet to the left,” Peter shouted. “But you took out one of the sailors. And now the sailors are arguing with each other.”
Ignoring Peter’s voice, Miceral plucked a second javelin and closed his eyes to familiarize himself with its balance. Focusing on his target, he hurled the metal rod as hard as he could. When the spear began its descent, Miceral turned away—he knew it would miss.
“Short,” Peter said. “It was right on target, but it hit the front of the ship.”
“Got it.” Grabbing another javelin, Miceral made sure to keep his current position. He’d been high and low with his first two tosses. This time he felt lucky.
“Miceral! They fired the weapon again!”
“Elgin,” he growled when their eyes met. “Just keep your attention on the ballista.”
“I am, but they fired it again.”
“I heard you.” He concentrated on his goal and made his third attempt. When the weapon struck, he didn’t need Peter to tell him what happened. The front of the ship exploded in a mass of flying wood and ropes.
“Direct hit!” Peter screamed. “You did it! It’s totally destroyed.”
Miceral turned around to look at Peter, but his eyes focused on the sails above the young prince. The spear Peter called out had cut through one sail and embedded itself in another. Slowly gravity pulled the barbed tail toward the deck, creating a big tear in the mainsail.
CAPTAIN NATHAN swore furiously, pausing only to issue orders. Sailors quickly scaled the rigging carrying needles and thread in a desperate attempt to repair the torn canvas. Emerson stared at Miceral, then walked over with a determined stride.
“I saw you take out their ballista.” His voice held an unspoken accusation. “How’s that possible?”
“Magic.” Miceral handed the officer a javelin. “Kelvin enchanted these before we arrived. They’re practically weightless, and the spell lets me throw them much farther than a normal spear. But when they land, they return to their true mass.”
Twirling the javelin with his fingers, Emerson nodded toward the enemy ship. “Can you use the rest to slow them down?”
“I’ll try, but even if I manage to damage their sails, they still have their oars. I doubt I can destroy enough of them to make a difference.” Hefting a javelin to estimate its weight, he looked over at Peter, who opened the spyglass.
“Where should I be watching?”
Miceral turned to Emerson, who still watched the approaching ship. “I only have nine left. The odds of my hitting an oar or two are rather slim, but any holes I put in their sails probably won’t slow them very much.”
Emerson drummed his fingers along the rail before handing the javelin back to Miceral. “Aim for the sails. Maybe you’ll get lucky and destroy a mast or a spar.”
“That’s as sound a plan as any. Watch the mast closest to us, Peter. At least if I miss, the spear will hit a sail or two.”
Miceral’s first four throws missed the mast, but they left multiple holes in several sails. Each hole started small but quickly widened as the wind continued its relentless push against the canvas. With each new tear, the corsair slowed a little more, but the sleek vessel still gained on the larger Seafoam Rose.
On his fifth attempt, Miceral’s spear struck the foremast. Two-thirds of the way up the tall spar, the heavy steel missile drove itself deep into the wood. Miceral exchanged looks of disappointment with the first officer.
“I can keep putting holes in their sails, and it might even make the men in the rigging jumpy, but I think I’m wasting my weapons.”
A strong gust of wind elicited a new round of curses from the men trying to repair the damage to the Rose’s sails. The crew had nearly finished closing the hole in the mainsail, but the long gash to the forward sail would likely not be fixed before the pirates caught them. Barring a miracle, they would be overtaken within the hour.
“Look!” Peter yelled.
Mice
ral spun around and watched as the top third of the pirate’s forward mast toppled over under pressure from the wind. The vessel seemed to lurch as the damaged spar fouled the rest of the rigging.
“Well done, Master Elgin,” Captain Nathan shouted from the helm. His demeanor improved noticeably as he barked out orders to try to regain their speed.
The smaller ship started to lose ground as the crew struggled to clear the damage, but Miceral’s good feeling quickly faded. The sweep of the oars increased even as the pirates improvised to get more sail on their depleted mast.
At first Miceral dared to hope they’d keep ahead of the buccaneers, but soon he noted the ship began to creep closer. With a look toward the first officer, he asked, “Any chance we’ll get that mainsail fixed?”
“Not unless we take it down. Even ripped, it’s better than no sail.”
Miceral nodded his understanding. Not the answer he’d been hoping to hear. “They’ll still catch us before sunset.”
“Agreed, but keep it to yourself.” Emerson picked up one of the four remaining javelins. “Maybe you can make lightning strike again.”
“I think I’ll hold these until they get closer. It will improve my odds of causing real damage.”
“Don’t wait too long. I don’t want to smell them before you try your luck again.” The officer returned to the forward section and could soon be heard exhorting the men to redouble their efforts.
Miceral waited until he heard the thud of the drum used to hammer out the pace for the pirates’ oarsmen. Peter offered to spot for him, but at this distance, Miceral felt comfortable with his own observations.
His first attempt shattered one oar before damaging a second one that broke after two more strokes. The second javelin struck the hull and quivered up and down, almost mocking the warrior. Another oar shattered with the third toss. Miceral opted to keep the last spear for the inevitable assault.
“My apologies, Captain. I was not able to do more than break three oars. This last spear is reserved for their captain.” Hoisting the remaining javelin in his right hand, Miceral bared his teeth in a wicked grin.
Champion of the Gods, Books 1-2 Page 50
