Raging Sea and Trembling Earth: Disciples of the Horned One Volume Two (Soul Force Saga Book 2)

by James Wisher

  The whale stopped and the small boats rowed closer. The harpooner had a long slender spear in his hand. When the boat sidled up to the exhausted whale he thrust it deep into the beast’s head. The dying creature thrashed and its blood stained the water red. The harpooner continued to push his spear deeper until finally the whale stopped moving. A cheer went up from the men in the two boats.

  A spark of corruption drew Damien’s attention away from the slaughter and over to the ships. At the front of three of the larger vessels, sorcerers stood with what looked like black jars held above their heads. A potent aura of corruption surrounded the jars. Those had to be the weapons they planned to use on the Leviathan, but what did they do?

  A minute passed, then five, and still no sign of the dragon. Finally, the dead whale was dragged over to Velco’s ship and they began the process of rendering the animal’s fat into oil. A fire was started in the furnace on deck and when it was hot enough chunks of reeking blubber were fed into it. A roiling cloud of stinking black smoke soon wreathed the ships.

  The smoke and stench distracted Damien and he lost track of the sorcerers. Before he realized they had moved, the sense of corruption had vanished. The jars must be back in their rooms behind whatever wards they used to keep Damien from sensing their demonic aura.

  He needed to let the archmage know what was happening.

  Chapter 38

  For two days, reeking black smoke billowed from the furnace as the crew worked around the clock to process the massive carcass. After several failed attempts Damien managed to conjure a filter that kept the smoke and most of the smell out of his nose, allowing him to breathe freely. If any of the process bothered either the captain or crew they gave no sign of it. In fact most of them seemed thrilled, none more so than Velco.

  The captain walked up to Damien where he stood in the front of the ship. “Quite a process, isn’t it? We’ll need to kill twenty to fill all four ships.”

  Damien shuddered at the thought of having to watch nineteen more whales rendered down. “The crew seems pleased, especially considering how nasty the job is.”

  “Ha! Are you kidding? No one’s seen a beast that big in our old hunting grounds in twenty years. And the one we killed was small next to some of its pod. There’s a fortune in oil just swimming around out here.”

  “What about the dragon?”

  Velco shrugged. “It’s a big ocean and if the stories are true the monster sometimes travels to other parts of the world. It’ll show sooner or later and if it doesn’t we’ll collect four shiploads of oil for our efforts. Win-win in my eyes.”

  Damien grunted. Hopefully it would be sooner rather than later. He’d come to the conclusion that the life of a sailor wasn’t for him. “What do you know about those jars the sorcerers were carrying?”

  Velco’s eyes narrowed. “Noticed those, did you?”

  “I’d have to be blind to miss them. They’ve got a nasty aura of corruption. You realize they’re demonic artifacts.”

  “The sorcerers tell me those urns used to hold the remains of an especially powerful demon and that’s what makes them appear corrupt. I don’t really care as long as they get the job done.”

  Velco returned to supervising the last of the rendering. Damien shook his head as he watched him go. Nothing good ever came from demonic artifacts. Unfortunately, short of sinking the ships and leaving the crew to drown, he couldn’t think of anything he could do to stop them from using the dangerous items.

  Damien flew down to the sorcerer’s cabin. Maybe he could convince her to let him take a look at the urns. The closed door had a pentagram engraved on it. He knocked and a few seconds later the door opened a fraction. A frowning face appeared in the narrow opening. “What?”

  “I’d like to take a look at the demon urn.” Damien offered his best smile.

  “No.” She slammed the door in his face.

  She wasn’t getting any friendlier with time. He knocked again.

  The door opened the same fraction. “Can’t you take a hint? I don’t want to talk. I don’t need a friend, and I’m certainly not going to show you such a rare artifact.”

  “Why not?” Damien asked before she slammed the door again.

  She blinked, surprised by the question. “It’s dangerous.”

  That was a weak excuse and from the twist of her lips he suspected she knew it. “Come on, I’m a sorcerer too. I’m not going to do anything foolish. I haven’t had another sorcerer to talk shop with in weeks. Please, I’m bored.”

  Her expression softened. “We can talk, but I’m not showing you the urn.”

  Damien grinned. “Deal.”

  She opened the door the rest of the way and he stepped inside. Her cabin wasn’t much different than his in general layout, but where his was almost empty hers was jammed full of trinkets, scrolls, books and every other bit of sorcerous paraphernalia imaginable. It almost looked like she wanted to prove how much of a sorcerer she was just with decorations.

  He looked around for a place to sit, but the only places were her sea trunk and a smaller box covered in runes that he suspected held the urn. He had no intention of sitting on it and burning his ass with hellfire.

  “You’ll have to forgive the mess. I seldom have company.”

  Damien conjured a chair in one of the few empty spots on the floor and sat down. “No problem. Besides, it’s nice to visit a lived-in room for a change. I can’t seem to stay in one place long enough to make a room my own.”

  She had a pretty smile, though it seemed she didn’t use it much. “The others tell me I’m a cluttered mess, but I like it like this.”

  “I’m Damien.” He held out his hand.

  She hesitated then shook with him. “Salem. I’m not very good at talking.”

  “You’re doing just fine. Don’t worry, like anything else, practice makes perfect.”

  Salem sat on the sea chest across from him. “You seem nice. The others said…”

  “What did they say?” He guessed they’d told her all sorts of things to make her too afraid to talk to him.

  She chewed her lip a moment then said, “They told me you’re a spy and that you’ll try and stop us from completing our mission.”

  “I am a spy, at least in as much as it’s my job to keep an eye on you and make certain you do nothing that might threaten the kingdom. Beyond that I have no interest in what you and your companions are planning.”

  “I guess that’s fair enough. We don’t have any interest in your kingdom, only in killing the dragon.”

  Damien had serious doubts, but she seemed to believe it. The others were clearly not telling her everything. “In that case there’s no reason we can’t be friends, right?”

  Her big, blue eyes stared at him. “You want to be friends? With me?”

  “Sure. You’re a sweet, pretty girl. Why wouldn’t I want to be friends with you?”

  Her pale skin turned pink. “I…I’ve never had any friends. Just my sister and then David. Our master lived in seclusion and we seldom saw anyone beyond the farmers that brought us food and supplies and they’d never speak.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s bad luck for a normal person to speak with a sorcerer. Everyone knows that.”

  Damien smiled. She spoke such absolute rubbish with complete conviction. It was sweet and sad at the same time. “How come you didn’t want to talk to me? Was it just because the others told you I was a spy?”

  “That and you scared me a little, when we first met.”

  “Ah, well, that was just to avoid a fight. Sometimes a little intimidation can save lives. I am sorry I frightened you. I’m a gentle soul once you get to know me.”

  She smiled again and this time it reached her eyes. “I believe you. I think, perhaps, we will be friends.”

  “Good. What about your sister and David? If you tell them I don’t intend to interfere they’d be willing to speak to me as well.”

  “David won’t.” Her smile faded. “Sometimes
he’s not so nice, but Maishi is devoted to him. She does whatever he says, no questions.”

  “Does David have a last name?”

  “Weks. He doesn’t use it often, but when we first met him by the docks he introduced himself with his full name.”

  Damien only half heard her once she said David’s last name. It had to be the same David Weks from the headmaster’s list: Connor’s yearmate. How had he ended up in the Old Empire and then on a whale hunting ship? It couldn’t be a coincidence.

  “Are you all right?” Salem asked.

  He’d completely lost track of the conversation. “Sorry, my mind wandered. With all the smoke and stink I haven’t slept well the last several nights. I think I’ll head to my bunk and catch a nap. If you’re willing, I’d very much like to talk to you again.”

  “I…I’d like that too. Perhaps I could make tea.”

  “Tea sounds wonderful.” Damien rose, absorbed his construct, and bowed to Salem. “It’s been a pleasure.”

  She opened the door for him and Damien took his leave. He strolled away until she shut the door. The moment she did he rushed back to his room. He needed to let his master know David Weks was here.

  Chapter 39

  Lon slammed his fist on the table when Sasha finished reading the letter Thomas had sent. They sat in a meeting room with the archmage. A full day had passed since the attack and Alden and Imogen had made a full recovery. The Legionnaires had returned to the capital to resume their duties.

  “I shouldn’t have sent the letter telling him we knew Lenore was the traitor,” Sasha said. Given where the attack took place it hadn’t taken much effort to figure out Lenore had betrayed them to Connor. When Thomas confronted her she attacked, killing two students, three masters, and herself.

  “Don’t,” the archmage said. “The only one who did anything wrong was Lenore. You can’t blame yourself.” She turned her intense gaze on Lon. “Either of you.”

  Lon slumped in his chair. He knew the archmage was correct, but he couldn’t keep from blaming himself. If he’d only gotten back from his interview with Mrs. Blackman sooner he could have warned them. Lenore was the one that corrupted Connor. She’d seen his interest in demons and twisted that childish curiosity into something monstrous. From the journals Thomas had found hidden in her room it appeared Lenore had been a member of the Cult of the Horned One for years before Connor first vanished.

  “They found nothing that would give us an idea of where to look for him?” the archmage asked.

  “Not according to Thomas,” Sasha said. “They’re giving everything a second and third look, but it doesn’t sound promising.”

  “How did she sneak a black ring into The Tower anyway?” Lon asked

  “She kept it in a box that hid its aura of corruption.” Sasha got up and paced for a second. “We badly underestimated her. We can’t make that mistake again.”

  Lon didn’t think she’d find anyone to argue with her on that. They brooded in glum silence, each thinking their own thoughts. Lon sensed a power approaching, not corrupt, thank heaven. He didn’t think he could handle another battle just now.

  The archmage perked up as well. “A message from Damien.”

  She concentrated, sending a beam of soul force to intercept Damien’s messenger. The beam zipped out the door and a second later returned with a small scroll. The archmage unrolled it and shook her head. “It appears rumors of David Weks’s death have been exaggerated.”

  “What?” Lon accepted the scroll when she offered it. He muttered to himself as he read then looked up. “How did he travel to the Old Empire and who did I find wearing his ring?”

  “Two excellent questions. We’ll have to be certain to ask him when he arrives.” Looking at the archmage’s stony expression Lon was glad she didn’t plan to ask him any questions.

  Chapter 40

  “Why kill the dragon?”

  Damien was once again sitting on a conjured chair in Salem’s cramped cabin. Across from him the girl was using sorcery to brew tea. Considering how much paper she kept in her room it was probably a good idea to avoid fire. Damien had joined her for tea and conversation twice more since their first visit a week ago. Salem was gradually relaxing in his company and he’d managed to tease out a few more details of her life.

  Not a lot, but some. The girl was surprisingly hesitant to talk about herself. So far he’d learned that Salem and her sister were banished from their village when the local witch noticed they had external flowing soul force. Not that she put it that way. Apparently some of the details of how sorcery worked hadn’t made it to the remote village where they grew up.

  Anyway, once the village found out about their abilities no one would have anything to do with them. The last words their mother spoke to them was to tell them about a sorcerer who lived in the mountains. With no other options they’d traveled to find the sorcerer who took them in and trained them.

  Salem poured tea into a pair of battered tin cups and handed him one. Damien took a sip. Mint and lemon. He’d never tasted anything like it in the kingdom.

  She watched him over the rim of her steaming cup. “Is it good?”

  “Very, thank you. We have nothing like this back home.”

  “This variety only grows around my village.” She took a sip. “It reminds me of home.”

  They drank in silence for a minute. Damien was about to ask his question again when she said, “Our master told us before he died, ‘Man is capable of anything he puts his mind to.’ To honor him Maishi and I set out to accomplish the most difficult task we could imagine. We’d debated several other ideas when we met David and told him of our quest. He mentioned the Leviathan and suggested nothing could be more difficult than killing the most powerful creature on the planet. Maishi seized on that at once.”

  “You didn’t agree?”

  “I thought we could find a task that didn’t involve killing anything. But once my sister made up her mind nothing would change it. I wouldn’t abandon her so I had no choice but to accept her decision. David told us about the urns and the three of us set out to collect them. Once we’d done that it wasn’t hard to find Captain Velco and convince him to take us out hunting.”

  “It seems like a terrible risk. I’ve fought a dragon, a weak one, if there is such a thing, and I only hurt it. I doubt I’d have nerve enough to take on the strongest of the five.”

  Shouts from outside interrupted their chat. The lookout had spotted more spouts. Salem leapt to her feet. “I have to prepare.”

  Damien got up and put a hand on her arm. “Please be careful.”

  “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

  He left Salem to prepare and went out on deck. Sailors were readying their hunting supplies and loading the little boats. Captain Velco stood at the wheel and bellowed encouragement. Damien couldn’t get over how much noise the process entailed. Shouts and laughter mingled with the clanging of harpoons and spears.

  Damien flew up to three times the height of the mast and looked in the same direction as the lookout. From this height the whales were easy to spot. They resembled dark gray shadows on the water. Every minute or two one of the giants would blow a spout of water ten feet into the air.

  Below him the little boats settled in the water and the sailors immediately pulled toward the pod. Two more boats launched from another member of the flotilla. It appeared Captain Velco had decided if one dead whale wasn’t enough to draw the dragon’s attention, maybe two would do it. Damien shook his head at the stupidity of the whole proceeding.

  The boats from Velco’s ship reached the pod first and, like before, the harpooner did his job, sinking his weapon deep into a whale at the edge of the pod. A second later they were off to the races. The tiny boat hooked to twenty tons of angry animal flew north. The rest of the ships followed along.

  Damien was trying to figure out how the second group of hunters would coax their prey to swim in the same direction when one of the whales, a monster twice the size o
f the first one they harpooned, turned and charged the pursuing skiffs. The harpooner hurled his weapon, but the rushed shot didn’t hit square and bounced off the whale’s thick hide.

  The harpooner in the second skiff raised his weapon, but the whale dove. Its head went down and its tail came up. The shattered first skiff went flying one way and its occupants the other.

  The whale swam away, seeming content that it had made its point. Damien considered flying down to help when a massive power to the east drew his attention.

  His body trembled.

  He’d never felt anything this strong before. The combined might of every sorcerer in the kingdom wouldn’t equal the power drawing ever nearer. Every fiber of his being screamed that he should flee.

  Down below, the hunters were in the process of slaying the harpooned whale. Velco’s ships sailed into position, Salem and the others standing in the front of three of the ships. They had to sense the approaching dragon. It was so powerful he suspected the ordinary sailors might sense it.

  Damien studied the ocean. It didn’t take him long to spot the massive, sinuous shadow approaching. It seemed to go on forever. Three, four, maybe five hundred yards long. It didn’t seem possible such a huge creature could exist.

  It dove out of sight.

  Velco was still maneuvering his ships to circle the dead whale. Corrupt power radiated from the urns in the sorcerers’ hands. Despite himself Damien flew closer. Something titanic was about to happen and he needed to see it.

  Chapter 41

  Damien hovered above the mast of Velco’s ship, the tension in the air almost visible. He wanted to shout at them to sail away, but it wouldn’t do any good. This was what they wanted.

  The Leviathan swam right below them. Damien sensed rather than saw the dragon speed toward the surface.

  A second later it burst from the water, jaws agape, the whole whale as well as the skiff and sailors caught between teeth so long they resembled ships’ masts. Two men leapt clear before those jaws snapped shut. Pieces of the less fortunate men fell to the water behind them.