The Silver Star (Kat Drummond Book 11)

by Nicholas Woode-Smith

  But why then did I feel so uneasy?

  “Commander,” Kyong greeted, sidling between me and Candace. “Do you still have the paperwork from that foreign affairs agent? This has to be the entire fleet. Maybe, we should sail with them? Let Anzac know we’re here to help.”

  Like tiny ants, I saw sailors and soldiers swarming around the shore and the ships. Every single one of them was a life. One that could be snuffed out. So quickly. So suddenly. For revenge, for the defence of a homeland. For doing the right thing…but it would be snuffed out all the same.

  I came here to fight elves, I reminded myself. Because I had always expected that my aunt wasn’t really alive. And, if she was dead, then I needed to avenge her. A need that had boiled inside of me since I had learnt about her death.

  But I didn’t feel that rage now. I only felt chilled, salty air on my skin. And a feeling of calm before a storm.

  “The plan is to meet with Anzac forces in Christchurch,” I answered, simply.

  Kyong nodded. No arguments. He’d make a good soldier.

  I didn’t know exactly why I didn’t like the idea of ingratiating myself with that wall of floating steel. Perhaps, it was because I didn’t like working with authority. That I wanted to delay having to for as long as I could. But that wasn’t right.

  There was something else. Something I wasn’t seeing. And I felt a tug eastward. And I needed to find the source before I entered a war I knew I would regret.

  Chapter 18.

  Mer

  “Truth be told, lass, I’m happy we didn’ have to dock. Blasted continent. Too many spiders. Some of them giant even before the old Vortex opened. No, no. Not for me.”

  Ironfoot was in high spirits at the thought of leaving sight of the fleet. He claimed he just didn’t like Australia, but I could see that there was something about the human fleet that unnerved him. A bad memory. I wondered if it was from this world or his home.

  Even at the height of tension between my friends, Ironfoot’s crew had been appropriately lively and boisterous but, as we pulled away from Brisbane harbour, everyone was silent. I could hear the last caw of seagulls as they faded into the distance.

  “What do ye plan to do in this part of the world, lass?” Ironfoot asked, as the sea covered the horizon. He said it wouldn’t be too much longer till New Zealand.

  “Did Candace not tell you?” I asked, by way of reply. “I thought you knew.”

  He smiled through his bushy red beard. We were alone on the highest deck of his ship. We could see everything from here. Everyone was mostly keeping to themselves. Alone with their thoughts. But, for whatever reason, I found myself here with the captain.

  “I didn’ think ye was really a fire elemental, lass. I know who ye are, Last Light. That was enough.”

  I sighed. “I didn’t think I was known outside Hope City.”

  Except by Conclave villains trying to off me, that is.

  “Perhaps ye ain’t. But I dock in the Titan’s city every so often. An’ I speak with my stone-headed kin there. They told me about the Fae Hunt. When ye Council got it into their fool heads to imprison all the fair folk. Didn’t strike me as odd. Humans have been blaming what’s different since before we arrived. But, what I heard that really struck me, was a story of a lass on the mountain top, making sure that fae an’ orcs, not like her, got to live free. That struck me, lass. And it continues to do so. Which is why I ask: why are ye here in a sea that’s about to boil red with blood? I think it’s too late for peace. Ye saw that armada. You don’t sheathe a sword that big before getting blood on it.”

  I contemplated Ironfoot’s words, letting them settle into the silent, sea-infused air.

  What was I doing here? Saving my aunt? Avenging her? Killing elves…

  “I’m not sure, captain…I don’t think I ever was. Things used to be simple. Back when it was just me hunting flesh-eaters. But…”

  “People complicate things.”

  I nodded, slowly, and decided to tell him the truth. “The elves have my aunt. That’s what I’ve been told. But I thought she was dead. When I looked in that Anzac officer’s eyes, I saw something familiar. Something I understood. Cause when I thought of New Sintar, I thought of revenge. But now…I don’t know. The sight of that fleet should have emboldened me. It’ll make saving my aunt easier to have an army breaking through the elf lines. But, for some reason, that doesn’t make me feel any better. If anything, it makes me feel worse. I saw those soldiers, and I saw them dead. Maybe for the right cause, but does that really matter to them then?”

  “All the glory in the world doesn’t matter if you’re dead,” Ironfoot replied, voice sad. His accent subdued. I didn’t look at him, lest I find tears in his eyes. A dwarf’s pride was important. Best to let him hide his tears.

  “I came here…” I continued, as I leaned on the railing, watching the horizon. The sun was setting. “To kill elves. That may not have been the goal, but it was something that I thought was a necessity. But, the closer I get, the less I want to do it.”

  “We should never want to kill people.”

  I snorted. “Too late for that.”

  Much too late.

  “Did ye kill them?” Ironfoot asked, impassive. No hint of accusation.

  “Yes,” I replied, simply.

  “And…did it change anything?”

  “Yes,” I answered, without thinking. But, was that really true? “…No…maybe. I think that there are some people who need to die. I kill for a living. And many monsters are human. And some are elves. And they needed to die. So, they would stop hurting people. I don’t regret it. Well, most of it. Cause if I regret killing them, then it’s as if I’d not mind that they were still alive and doing all those bad things.”

  Ironfoot didn’t reply. He contemplated my words. So, did I.

  Did I regret it? Jeremiah Cox, Cornelius Black, Andy, Finley…

  Some of them, yes. For some reasons. People were too complex to completely hate. Jeremiah was insane, but he had started by wanting to cure disease. Cornelius was someone I thought I liked, but he had tried to kill me. And Andy…I didn’t regret that at all. But, even at the end of Finley’s life…he had meant something to Brett. He hadn’t always been a monster. For a long time, he’d been a father to the one I love.

  All of them had some redeeming qualities. And all of them had deserved to die. Question was: if given the choice, would I kill them again?

  I would.

  I turned to face the captain and froze. On the eastern horizon, towards our destination, the sky was black, and the ocean spat up pyres of salt and water like lava. The air roiled and, even from a distance, I could feel the storm sting my cheeks.

  “Storm brewing? Rift-surge?” I asked.

  Ironfoot didn’t answer me. The colour in his skin had drained away.

  “No…that’s no storm,” he muttered, almost disbelieving. “Not a rift surge either.”

  “Cap’n!” Gidget yelled from below. “Do ya see it?”

  “Aye! I don’ know what it is, but I know we’re gonna have a hard time of it. We can’t dodge or outrun it. But, if we’re caught in it for too long, it’ll rend the ship asunder. Get the engines ready. We’re breaking through! Everyone to emergency positions. We ain’t gonna sink on my watch!”

  “Aye, Cap’n!” Gidget replied, saluting and running across the deck to order the crew.

  “Lass,” he said, turning to me. His expression held barely restrained panic. More than I’d ever seen from him before. “Get ye mages in position. That is no surge or storm. If we don’t use magic to keep ourselves afloat, we may as well swear fealty to Davey Jones right now.”

  “Aye, Cap’n!”

  I saluted and tore down the stairway, running into Brett.

  “Storm?” he asked.

  “Something worse! Find the mages. We need shields, buoyancy incantations. Whatever.”

  Before Brett could reply, I sprinted into the ship, running into Ironfoot’s crewmates and tel
ling them to get to emergency positions.

  First en route was Candace’s room. She dropped her spell book with a thud onto her face as I surprised her.

  “Some sort of mega-storm! Captain says we need magic.”

  Candace collected her bag of magical texts and tools and started running upstairs without a word. That left Kyong and Pranish.

  Pranish and Trudie shared a cabin. I didn’t know if they had any chores at this time. I didn’t stop to find out, as I got to their door and flung it open, finding the pair mid-intimacy. Without even a pause to blush, I blurted out.

  “We’re about to hit a storm that’d make the Titan gasp! We need mages on deck.”

  I left the door open as I went in search of Kyong, our final mage. Hopefully, the three would be enough.

  Kyong wasn’t below, but I found him with the group on the deck. Brett was panting. Must’ve found him. Already, walls of the ship were covered in chalk runes of varying colours. Candace was hastily scrawling her ritual circles across the hull and deck, ordering others to copy her markings. Shield spells. I’d seen a few weaker ones during other storms. I didn’t understand magic truly, but there was something about these runes that spoke of a more intense power than the ones before.

  Pranish, only slightly dishevelled, came aboard and went over to commune with Candace. Satisfied with her work, he started working on his own magic. Kyong, not needing spells or rituals, began stretching, as if he was about to go for a run.

  Throughout all this, Ironfoot’s crew battened down the hatches, secured rafts, deck-chairs and anything loose, and started preparing for going full throttle through the queen of magical storms.

  Spittle-like rain started spraying from the sea and sky as we drew closer to the brink. It felt like ice knives on my skin. The wind picked up, howling in my ears and sending my coat aflutter. It was already hissing up a storm as every droplet turned to tendrils of steam on a thin layer of flaming scales.

  “My faithful crew!” Ironfoot announced, standing atop the upper deck and looking down on us, his beard flying in the wind. The gale had already sent one of his hair-ties flying, causing his beard to look even wilder than usual.

  “We are about to enter the blackness of the seething sky and waves. Ye who have sailed with me know that my people tell legends of the Blackstorm. That the world will be consumed by darkness coming over the sea we roam.”

  The crew was silent as the grave. The roar of the storm increased in volume. We were getting closer.

  “But, this is not the Blackstorm!” Ironfoot suddenly yelled. He pointed a pudgy finger towards the black sky. “This puny storm is just a test. A test to prove that we really belong on these accursed waters. The ocean challenges us. And, we will answer!”

  Ironfoot turned to face the storm, drawing a sword by his side as if charging into battle. He held it aloft, and bellowed, a wordless cry. A primal cry.

  One by one, the crew joined the cry. Until all of us, by ritual circle, stowed raft or engine, were shouting our defiance against the storm.

  Then…there was nothing. Nothing but the piercing hum and rumble of nature’s rage. Water from above and below tore into the ship and us, as waves tossed the ship like a plaything.

  So sudden was the flowing water that much of Candace’s work had already washed off before she could trigger the incantation. Still, she scrawled away below a roof, water spraying like shotgun blasts on her back.

  The ship tore through the waves. But, as we gained inches, it felt like we were tossed back yards. In the darkness, my coat was one of the only light sources and I pulled myself along a sodden railing to ensure that Candace could see what she was doing. I passed Pranish, as Trudie held his arm with her one hand and a metal ladder rung with the other. Pranish’s eyes were glowing with magical energy as he spewed out incantations, silent under the cacophony of the storm.

  Suddenly, a jolt sent me reeling. Pranish tripped and was only saved from falling by Trudie’s grip. A gush of water washed over me and I coughed up salt water, holding onto a railing for dear life as the ship began to capsize from a wave dedicated to pushing it onto its side.

  This wasn’t nature. There was something magically vindictive about this storm. Waves hammered mindlessly. This pushed. Pushed until we fell.

  Below, I saw the blackness of the depths. Senegal, in half-wolf form held onto a swinging door with his one hand and held Candace in his arms. She was still incanting, despite all her chalk now being washed away.

  I tried to take a deep breath, anticipating going under, but the rain was so heavy I might as well have already been under. I coughed, watching as Treth manifested feverishly, trying to figure out a way to pull me to safety.

  Then, a dent formed in the water, growing in size, until exploding like a bomb underwater. The force of the blast righted the ship, and I turned to see a sodden Kyong give a satisfied grin.

  “Kat!” Treth shouted, directly into my mind. I turned just in time as the mast used during surges toppled and cracked. Its supports snapped and it came falling towards me, just as I felt twin bodies collide into me, knocking me to safety. Treth and Brett both checked to see if I was okay before helping me up.

  “Candace?” I yelled, over the storm and directly into Brett’s ear.

  He shook his head. I glanced around for my sister but could see nothing past a few metres. The blackness was pressing in, and the rain was more akin to a waterfall.

  Brett pulled me away from the edge, as I kept looking for signs of the others. I saw the faint glowing of runes through the storm, but nothing else, as my boyfriend and ghost pulled me under the cover of a small roof. Metal screeched, as more waves threatened to topple us. I curled up, shivering, Brett holding me down.

  There was nothing I could do. But, that wouldn’t stop me from trying, if not for the blackness and Brett’s arms around me.

  I wanted to scream, as we had when facing the storm. But my lungs were full of salt. I just shivered. For eternity. As the wetness and chill infused my bones, forever…

  I felt a sudden warmth. I opened my eyes and could see my pale, shivering hands clearly. I looked up, past Brett’s form. The sun shone as if the storm had never started.

  Shocked, I lightly pushed Brett away who, on seeing the change, stood up with me.

  Behind the ship, there was a wall of impenetrable blackness. I could still hear the faint hum of the storm within. But, out here, there wasn’t even a drizzle.

  I stepped out onto the deck and was relieved to see Pranish, still incanting as Trudie cradled him in her arms. Her black fur receded slowly. Candace limped into sight, and I ran towards her. She smiled, even as I saw blood staining her pants.

  “It’s just a cut,” she insisted, after my fussing.

  I scanned the deck and saw Kyong and Senegal too. Ironfoot lifted himself up, using his sword, and was also looking around. There was a calmness in the air. And, we could now breathe, with a relief as if we had been submerged for hours. Even with the relief, it was obvious that there were faces absent. But, this was a big ship. We couldn’t lose hope now…

  I had barely calmed down from the storm when a scream rang out from the other end of the ship. Silvertide! Running faster than his size and bulk could suggest, Ironfoot tore across the deck towards the stern. Insisting that Candace sit, I followed him.

  The storm had left a lot of damage. Paint was scored off, where there weren’t just blatant holes. We were lucky that the hull hadn’t been breached. Perhaps, we had Candace and Pranish to thank for that.

  But, as the scream sounded again, I knew that we weren’t safe just yet.

  I rounded the corner and skidded to a stop just behind Ironfoot. He stood still as a statue and was as pale as the white paint of his ship, contrasting shockingly with his fiery beard.

  Silvertide wasn’t screaming anymore.

  Looming above her still body, her face frozen in terror and pain, was a brackish-blue figure, with fins and a tail resembling a dolphin’s. It looked up at
us with white eyes and a bloody mouth of razor-sharp teeth. Ironfoot didn’t move.

  I had heard of the mer before. They were meant to be beautiful, in their own way. But this…thing. It wasn’t beautiful.

  In a flash, the creature lashed out at us. Ironfoot flinched, as I shoved him out of the way, drawing my seax from its trusty spot by my thigh. The mer rounded back, just as I drove my seax into its back. It didn’t show any indication of pain. Like an undead.

  I pulled out the knife, just as the mer tried to envelope its long, finned arms around me. Its webbed hands held sharp, spiky claws. My coat could have burnt them, but it was still too waterlogged. It could barely manage to keep me from shivering from the cold sea air.

  I slashed out, missing the mer’s neck by an inch and gritting my teeth. I wished I was carrying Ithalen!

  The creature was fast. Nimble. Too nimble for a water creature on land. Well, on deck.

  I backed away, giving it some room and sizing it up. It moved ferally but didn’t growl. It was silent. Something it also had in common with some undead. Was everything from the sea this creepily quiet?

  “Come on, you bastard,” I taunted, testing for intelligence. It showed no flicker of any. Could it be reanimated? Like the drowned dead?

  Suddenly, it shot towards me. I thrust forward, catching flesh, but its force was unrelenting, as it shoved me into the wall. I heard the crunching of teeth as I lifted my hand up just in time to hold its head away from my neck. Inches away from my face, the thing snapped, like a hungry zombie. But its teeth were far from zombie-like. Rows and rows of shark teeth filled its mouth.

  I strained under the weight of the thing, struggling to maintain my grip on its head as its slimy flesh writhed underneath my fingertips.

  My knife-hand was stuck on my seax’s grip, rammed firmly into the thing’s belly. It didn’t care. I twisted the hilt and drove the blade deeper. Still. No reaction.

  I tried to push it off, but it just pressed harder. Harder. Until the point of a blade sheered right through its neck. In its white eyes, I suddenly saw a flicker of something else, but it was gone, as its head fell to the ground with a splat.