Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy)

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  Ovek rolled his eyes with impatience. “Fine,” he said, standing at the door with one hand on the knob while clutching Lok’s sheathed sword in the other. “Make it fast.”

  Lok walked around the desk, opened one of the drawers and rifled through a stack of parchment in the sickly glow of the oil lamp. Ovek glanced at his aide, silently indicating for him to keep an extra sharp eye on their prisoner. The aide stood at attention, placing a hand gently upon the hilt of his sword. Lok caught their brief exchange out of the corners of his eyes and looked up with a disappointed smile.

  “Seriously? You already took my weapon, Vice-Commander. What do you think I’m going to attack you with?” he remarked with an amused grunt, holding up a handful of parchment. “These musty accounts of the number of fish barrels going to Kargoth?” Lok disgustedly tossed the leaflets into the air and glared at Ovek as they rained down on the floor in front of the desk.

  “Was that necessary?” he snapped back with equal disdain.

  “Yes. As is this!” Lok suddenly grabbed the oil lamp and hurled it at the floor among the fallen parchment. It smashed in an explosion of glass shards and oil droplets, followed by a demonic whoosh of red and orange flames.

  “What are you doing?” Ovek shouted in disbelief as a wave of fire instantly engulfed the desk and the spread of parchment between them. He lunged back against the door as the flames leaped in his direction.

  “Sir!” the Vice-Commander’s aide shouted as he stood off to the side. “You’re coat is on fire!”

  The young man raced to his superior as Ovek looked down and saw the hem of his coat had ignited where some of the oil had splashed upon it. He dropped Lok’s sword and struggled to remove the coat as the flames grew. His aide helped him rip it off and then opened the door to escape the searing heat. He pulled Vice-Commander Ovek out onto the deck as a cold sea breeze blew inside and stirred up the flames into an even greater frenzy. Billows of smoke followed them out of the cabin. Ovek angrily whipped his coat upon the deck until the flame was extinguished. When he looked up, his face contorted and dotted with sweat, he realized that Lok could not follow them out through the growing inferno. A paralyzing fear took hold when he also realized that the fire was out of control. He glanced at his aide, knowing that the Bretic was already lost.

  Lok, during those same moments, grabbed the bundle of rope hanging on the wall and hurried to the back windows. He knew he had only a short time to escape before the smoke, heat and flames overpowered him. He unfastened a metal latch and swung open a panel of windows inward, allowing a strong, westerly breeze inside which temporarily cleared the smoke around him and slammed the main door shut. He longingly viewed Karg Island through the darkness. He swiftly unraveled the rope, tied one end to a support post and dropped the other end out the window. It fell like a dead snake as it plopped into the water. He raced over and peered through the portside window and spotted the three rafts that Arteen and his men had used to board the ship. He knew he would have to swim a short distance to reach the nearest one, but it couldn’t be helped.

  With little time left, Lok returned to the back windows and climbed out, preparing to make his way down the rope as the snapping flames spread in his direction. As he positioned one foot on a ledge just outside the opening, a serpentine smile spread across his face as he wondered how Vice-Commander Ovek would be able to explain the loss of a ship to his superiors.

  “Looks like Arteen is going to get his wish after all,” he muttered in amusement, expertly lowering himself down the rope as the flicking snake tongues of fire advanced, tasting the cold sea air.

  CHAPTER 62

  On Karg Island

  Nicholas walked beside Brin across the creaking deck of the Bretic after they had exited the captain’s cabin. The ship’s masts and rigging caught the moonlight like a giant spider web. Flags above them and on the nearby Hara Nor flapped in the breeze.

  Nicholas wondered if he should run for it and jump overboard before Brin locked him below deck. But even if he did escape, he knew it wouldn’t be long before Ovek’s soldiers stormed Karg Island, the only place where he could go and wanted to be. But before he reached a decision, Brin grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a deserted section of the ship swimming in shadows.

  “Hey, what are you–!”

  “Quiet!” Brin ordered, pushing his prisoner against a towering wooden post strung above with ropes and pulleys. “Listen to me or I’ll throw you in confinement right now. I guarantee you’ll never see that lovely princess again. Understand?”

  Nicholas agreed with a quick nod. “What do you want?” He looked calmly into his captor’s eyes, hoping to form some sort of bond or play upon the sympathies of a young man not much older than himself. He also decided to keep pretending that it really was Princess Megan on Karg Island, realizing it was no use giving up one of his few advantages.

  “I need to know everything Vice-Commander Ovek and that fool-of-a-captain Lok discussed with you inside the cabin,” Brin whispered. “It was all about Princess Megan, right? And since I’m now assistant captain of this ship, I should be privy to that information.”

  Nicholas smirked. “Why should I tell you after you betrayed Arteen and his friends?”

  “Arteen betrayed the Northern Isles!” he angrily replied. He quickly calmed down and looked around to make sure no one was in earshot. “Besides, I’m armed and you’re not. So tell me what the three of you talked about before I really lose my temper.”

  Nicholas studied the man’s contorted expression and frowned more out of disgust than fear. “You’re just like all the others–Lok, Ovek, the wizard Caldurian. Even Vellan himself. It’s all about opportunity and power to you people. And whoever gets hurt along the way is an afterthought, if that.”

  Brin glared at Nicholas, knowing he had little time left to get what he was after. “You’re in no position to lecture me,” he said, pulling out a dagger and turning the blade in front of Nicholas’ face as it reflected the cold light of the Fox Moon. “Don’t make me resort to more distasteful methods.”

  “If you kill me, you’ll never get any information.”

  “Who said anything about killing you?” Brin’s icy words complemented his vacant stare as he moved the blade tip closer to Nicholas’ face. “Do I make myself clear?”

  “I think so,” he said, certain that Brin wasn’t bluffing and wondering what he could say to protect Ivy.

  “Good. Now for the last time, tell me what the three of you discussed or you’ll wish you had never stepped foot on this ship.”

  Nicholas nodded as a veil of defeat spread across his face. “I’ll tell you, though I’m not sure if it’ll help.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that. Speak!”

  “All right. Ovek was telling us that–” Nicholas suddenly stopped talking, gazing curiously into the air as if some ominous presence had caught his attention.

  “Ovek was telling you what?” he asked impatiently.

  Nicholas sniffed the air, detecting an acrid smell of smoke coming from the stern. Slowly his eyes widened as he saw a devilish display of red and orange flames raging behind the windows of the captain’s cabin.

  “It’s on fire,” he calmly stated.

  “On fire? That doesn’t make sense. Did Ovek say–?”

  Suddenly Brin understood as he locked gazes with Nicholas and saw the reflection of flames in his prisoner’s eyes. An instant later there was an explosion of glass as several of the windows in the cabin blew outward from the intense heat and pressure of the roaring fire. Brin spun around to witness the scene for himself as the flames leaped out of their confinement, reaching far into the night sky, refreshed and strengthened by a blast of cold sea air.

  “What’s happening to my ship?” he muttered as he raked a hand through his hair, shocked at the sight. He took an unsteady step forward, mesmerized by the flames.

  “We have to move away!” Nicholas urged. But now that the knife blade was pulled away from his face, he
thought he might have a chance to escape. But Arteen and the others were being held below deck. He knew he couldn’t leave without freeing them first.

  “Fire!” Brin shouted, moving closer to the stern until the conflagration was in full view, a wave of wild flames that quickly spread. “There’s a fire in the–!”

  But his cries were drowned out as similarly panicked shouts of fire and a multitude of calls for abandoning ship echoed from bow to stern. Vice-Commander Ovek’s voice boomed from elsewhere on deck, sounding above them all as the flames rapidly engulfed more of the ship, whipped into a fury by the steady sea breezes.

  “Lower the boats and make for the Hara Nor!” Ovek’s order was dispatched with steady forcefulness that defied the erratic nature of the growing inferno. “Release the prisoners from below deck!”

  “This can’t be happening!” Brin muttered, his eyes transfixed on the advancing flames as he fumed with boiling anger reminiscent of Captain Lok. Brin drove the point of his dagger into a wooden rail in frustration and then turned around to confront Nicholas, snarling like a chained dog.

  In that instant, Nicholas slammed his fist into Brin’s jaw, knocking the man down onto a pile of coiled rope as he writhed in pain. Nicholas grabbed the dagger stuck in the wood and fled toward the bow of the ship, his heart racing and his hand burning with excruciating pain. He ran to a section of railing on the starboard side as wisps of pungent smoke began to engulf much of the ship. He ducked for a moment behind a large rain barrel as a soldier raced by, fearing he may have been spotted. But the man apparently didn’t see him or didn’t care as he disappeared amid the clamor.

  Nicholas’ eyes stung and he started to cough, now hearing a growing cacophony of terrified voices and discordant shouts from all over the ship. And though some men were frantically lowering a few row boats closer to the bow of the ship, Nicholas saw other men jumping wildly over the rail to escape the flames. He thought he recognized a couple of men from Arteen’s group and knew that the prisoners had been released, but there was no order among any of the troops. He couldn’t distinguish guard from prisoner and assumed that chaos had taken over with every man looking out for himself. He decided to do the same, knowing he had to get off the Bretic before it was too late. The flames steadily crept forward along the deck with tendrils of dark smoke swirling in the breeze. The Fox Moon silently watched the mayhem below.

  Nicholas started to cough again. His stinging eyes watered until he was nearly blinded by the tears. He wiped his face and scrambled out of his hiding spot behind the rain barrel, knowing he must escape now or face certain death. He decided to jump off the deck like so many others, knowing he dare not get on one of the rowboats. He raced to a section of the railing away from where the boats were being lowered and looked over into the moonlit water, wondering if he could swim the nearly quarter mile to Karg Island without freezing to death. But he had no choice. After shoving the dagger under his belt, he placed one foot on the base of the railing and hoisted himself up, gulping a lungful of air. But as he positioned his body to make the jump, a hand suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder in the swirling smoke and pulled him back onto the deck.

  “Not so fast,” a voice whispered.

  Nicholas spun around and reached for his dagger, ready to defend himself against Brin who he assumed had followed him through the smoke. He broke out in a smile, seeing Ragus’ whiskered face grinning back at him. “Ragus! How did you–”

  “No time for talk,” the man calmly replied, signaling for Nicholas to follow him to the port side of the ship where fewer people had congregated. Most had been fleeing on the starboard side in view of the Hara Nor. “Arteen told us to keep an eye out for you,” he said as they made for the railing. “Looks like I’ll get the prize.”

  “What are we going to do?” Nicholas asked as a gust of smoke rushed at them like the hot breath from a deadly dragon. He and Ragus instinctively turned away and covered their eyes until it passed and then made for the railing.

  “We’re going to escape,” Ragus said, running his hands along the rail until he found what he was looking for. “The smart way.”

  “Huh?” Nicholas peered over the side and saw the middle raft he had helped paddle over from the mainland. Ragus had located the rope ladder leading down to it.

  “Let’s go before we’re spotted or others get the same idea,” he said, climbing over the railing and moving quickly and steadily down the swaying ladder.

  Nicholas followed, breathing a blast of cold air rushing past his face. He looked up as he descended the ladder, amazed at how fast the flames were consuming the Bretic. He knew it would only be a matter of minutes before the ship was totally destroyed as red and orange fire leaped up from the tip of one of the lower masts. After they both touched down on the raft, Ragus borrowed Nicholas’ dagger and cut them loose. He grabbed a paddle and gave one to Nicholas, indicating for him to start rowing toward the island.

  “Shouldn’t we wait for any of the others?” Nicholas asked, feeling guilty for abandoning them to the fiery tempest.

  “They’ll find a way off,” Ragus assured him. “There are two more rafts. Anyway, Arteen wanted one of us to get you to Karg Island as soon as possible to find your friend. Maybe that lunatic Captain Lok or the one in charge on the other ship will send some men there as well. We have to get ashore first.”

  “That may not be possible,” he replied, glancing toward the stern as they pushed away from the side of the ship. He swallowed hard as he looked at Ragus. “One of the other rafts is missing.”

  “What?” Ragus craned his neck forward and was surprised to find that one raft had been cut loose. “I wonder who beat us here.”

  “He did,” Nicholas said, pointing as they cleared the ship’s stern and made for the island. “Look.”

  Ragus stared ahead and discerned a shadowy figure on the missing raft paddling steadily toward Karg Island in the moonlight. The vessel was nearly ashore. “Who’s that?”

  “Lok,” he uttered with a heartbreaking sigh. “I’m guessing he started the fire, too.” Nicholas paddled as fast as he could, looking at Ragus in fear. “We have to stop him before–”

  “I know,” he whispered, keeping pace with Nicholas’ stroke. “I know.”

  As they drew nearer to shore, Nicholas’ arm, back and shoulder muscles burned as furiously as the Bretic, yet he continued to paddle with Ragus, his eyes fixed forward and his breathing deep and steady. The inevitable then happened and Nicholas shuddered–Lok’s raft had touched shore. In the glow of moonlight, he watched as Lok disembarked, his first few steps unsteady as if he were drunk or half asleep. The man wrapped his arms tightly around himself, rapidly rubbing his upper arms and the sides of his chest before tiredly trudging up the shore and into the thin stretch of woods. A handful of distant lights emanated from within the trees where a few wooden buildings and been constructed for the administration of the ships arriving from the Isles.

  “Faster!” Nicholas whispered to himself, though he and Ragus were already propelling the raft as quickly as they could.

  A few minutes later the tips of their paddles touched the sandy bottom near the shoreline. Nicholas jumped off the raft as it glided onto shore, his boots splashing through the water as he raced to dry land. Ragus quickly followed, worried that Nicholas was too emotionally caught up in the situation to think clearly about his next step. The young man simply raced into the woods and bolted toward the nearest lights.

  “Slow down!” Ragus muttered, nearly out of breath.

  But Nicholas didn’t hear him or refused to listen, his mind only on Ivy and her safety. He called out her name several times to warn her of Lok’s approach.

  “Ivy!” he desperately cried, starting to feel winded and barely able to focus on the path ahead. “Ivy!”

  The thicket of trees flew past them like a blur of shadows as their feet pounded the hard, dirt path. Suddenly a large clearing opened up and three low buildings popped into view, the few windows in each g
lowing with yellow light. But Captain Lok was nowhere in view. Nicholas and Ragus rushed into the closest and largest of the three structures, bursting through a wooden door. The building was empty as they searched. The main room was a large office area with a desk and several shelves cluttered with ledgers, loose parchment leaves, maps and other items. Smaller tables in various states of disarray were scattered about. A large, cold fireplace yawned in one corner and a few oil lamps brightly burned by the windows and on the main desk. The other rooms consisted of Lok’s living quarters where Ragus helped himself to a long dagger he found hanging from one of the walls.

  “Let’s search the other buildings!” Nicholas frantically cried as they both bounded outside. He directed Ragus toward one while he investigated the other.

  But these also proved to be dead ends. One structure was living quarters for up to a dozen soldiers and the other a storehouse for foodstuff and survival supplies, both deserted. When they met outdoors again, both appeared anxious and worried.

  “She’s got to be here,” Ragus said, hoping to bestow a bit of encouragement upon Nicholas who was at his wit’s end.

  “But where?” Nicholas turned around in a slow circle, surveying the terrain until a chilling notion struck him. “You don’t suppose she was already on board the Bretic, do you? Maybe Lok had brought her over and wasn’t telling Ovek.”

  “I don’t know,” he replied, not wanting to consider such a horrendous notion as the Bretic burned on the water behind them.

  “Or maybe he–” Nicholas stopped suddenly, pointing to a spot farther into the woods just ahead. “Look! I see another light.”

  Ragus peered into the trees and soon made out a faint point of light partially masked by the glow of the Fox Moon. “Another building?” he whispered. But Nicholas didn’t wait for any words of confirmation. He shot off like an arrow directly toward it. “Nicholas, wait!” Ragus cried, racing after him.

  Seconds later they entered another small clearing where a tiny, one-room structure had been built in an obviously hasty manner as indicated by the roughly hewn logs and corners that were slightly off plumb. A faint light was visible from two small windows. A trail of wood smoke drifted out of a narrow chimney. Nicholas paused when seeing no one in the vicinity and looked hopelessly at Ragus.