by Keith Walter
Charles pretended to dust off his pants, commenting, “She could have pushed their emotions a little bit. I’m betting they aren’t accustomed to fighting pain and magic influence at the same time. It was a pretty standard tactic in the war to break enemy morale.”
Barclay leaned heavily over the new-and-improved GPS monitor. “Is that what you did?” he asked Charles tentatively.
Charles glanced at the stairway, making sure no one was still within hearing distance. He frown at the captain. “I didn’t, but influencing emotions wasn’t something I was any good at.”
Barclay thought for a second. “Grace is rattled. That worries me more than anything. She’s more powerful than she lets on, and she lets on more than I think she intends.”
“She gave me tonight,” Charles remembered aloud. “Isn’t that what she said? Even if Grace was right about those rings—” he pointed to the angry ship at the center of a bull’s-eye “—why hasn’t the Entregon sped up to close the distance?” He gave the captain a sidelong glance. “And I’m guessing you felt it, too, but whatever the Entregon was doing, it lessened considerably after the initial burst. It probably could have seriously injured most of us before Grace put up her defenses, but it didn’t.”
Barclay remembered the haunted look in Grace’s eyes when she’d spoken that morning. “She’s met the Entregon before. She said her family actually had dealings with the thing.” He cleared his throat. “It seemed like that meeting wasn’t very pleasant.”
Charles turned his head far enough to elicit a crack. He sighed heavily. “I get the feeling everyone who meets that thing finds it unpleasant. You remember the orders when it was brought to battle?”
“Clear out everyone on our side. It wasn’t coming to save anyone.” Barclay remembered the orders quite clearly. He never did appreciate the call to retreat, but he saw the destruction left in that demon’s wake. It seemed less an ally and more a force of nature. He shook the memories from his thoughts. “Maybe even the Entregon can feel something for its own kind. If it really told her it would give her the night, that means it offered her a deal.”
“And given the way she reacted, I’ll give you one guess what the Entregon wanted.”
“Us, for her own safety.” He couldn’t help but smile. “That kid is too good for us.”
Charles smiled as well, something more than appreciation beginning to creep behind his lips. “So then, how do we repay her probably foolish altruism?”
“We find a way to get her out of this,” Barclay announced. He poked the nearest portal on the map and it expanded. The lake had numerous portals littered throughout. Long before humans settled in the area, the lakes were teeming with all sorts of magic creatures. They had made portals connecting the lakes to each other and larger bodies of water inland. The portal Grace was unwaveringly headed toward was an old shipping shortcut. He didn’t send much of his cargo through the portals due to the inspections, but he was more than aware of where they were and how they operated. He just hoped it wasn’t closed by the time they got there.
Charles nodded toward the map. “Any chance you’ve been there before?”
“Not personally,” Barclay replied, “but I’ve sent enough cargo through to know it. It’s got a single tower overseeing the magical barriers along with a handful of inspectors on a normal day. I wouldn’t be surprised, though, if those inspection vessels are armed to the teeth now with a day to prepare for any unexpected arrivals.” He brushed a finger around the map and the portal began to spin slowly. “The real problem here is the pocket. Assuming they haven’t closed it down completely, there’s just no way to know what will be waiting for us.”
“A portal in a pocket?” Charles wondered. “That’s nifty.”
Barclay quirked an eyebrow suddenly. “Both are all-natural, a pretty strange combination that leads to some interesting problems if I remember correctly.” He grabbed one of his loose maps and flipped it over, staring at the blank expanse. “A tunnel through our dimension, stuck inside a pocket out of sync with our dimension, has an interfering effect.”
Charles nodded, not understanding in the slightest. “And that’s…good?”
“It’s an opportunity,” Barclay replied, grabbing a pencil from his pocket and beginning to draw what he remembered of the portal. “We won’t be able to tell what’s going on inside, but unlike a normal pocket, they won’t be able to see us coming, either.”
Charles smirked. “Double surprise. Yeah, that could work.” As he looked out the front windows, he saw Talmer stomping around childishly. “Well,” Charles hedged, “as long as everyone is on the same team.”
◆◆◆
Talmer had raced to the deck after walking out of the bridge. It was getting hard for him to breath. Walking to the bow, he loosened his impeccable necktie and threw his hands behind his head. He could hear his father laughing. All the times Talmer tried to impress that bastard or prove him wrong and this was how it was going to end: on a boat in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by people he didn’t know or care about.
He had been so close to having it all. He and Grace would have fell madly in love, he was sure, and they would have bonded. From there it would only be a matter of time before they built up a shipping empire and surpassed his father’s station. Then, when it was clear he should have been the number one son, he would take his father’s businesses piece by piece until the old bastard had nothing left. With his father penniless and ruined, Talmer would then return to stake his claim to the family name and banish his father. Every ounce of hatred he had been given as a child would be paid back tenfold.
That dream had vanished in an instant; the moment Barclay decided to turn around and pick up the trash. A dark thought floated through his head like smoke from a fire. It’s all their fault. Anger fell into place as he realized that if the converts and other fey hadn’t come back, he would have had it all. Where before they had been just a minor nuisance, now it was as if they were actively trying to take his dreams away. Serin had tried to hit him. No matter the result, she had attacked her better. Had Grace not developed a soft spot for the little witch, he would have ended her right then. But Grace and even the captain had made it clear Talmer could not correct that miss. He hated feeling powerless.
He was pulled from his thoughts as Grace wandered out on the deck. Talmer hurried over to her. “Ah, Grace, my sweet. I must apologize on behalf of our mutual acquaintance, Serin. I am sure she did not mean to increase the enormous tension you must be under. I will speak with her later about how such actions are unbecoming of her line.”
Grace just nodded her head silently as she though she hadn’t heard him speak.
Talmer could feel Grace pulling away, and asked desperately, “Whatever is the matter? If Serin’s actions have upset you this much, I will immediately address them with her.”
Grace just kept walking until she was at the railing. Talmer hesitated, but followed her to the edge, leaning forward in sync. After several moments of silence, Grace said, “You spoke of your father and how his decisions hurt you deeply. Did you ever think to challenge him?”
Talmer was taken aback, startled both by her wistful voice and the intimacy of the question. He shook his head firmly. “My father is not just the clan head for his strength, but also for his mind. He has overseen the Volgerett family for a millennium. He has built that name into one deserving of respect and fear.” He stared into the dark water ahead. “Even if I were to defeat him, the position of clan head would not simply fall to me. My siblings would have then challenged me and each other. The battles would decimate the family and bring us nothing but shame.”
Grace seemed to consider that answer. “But being stronger at least, wouldn’t that have made your life easier?” She hugged herself tightly. “He wouldn’t be able to hurt you anymore then.” She stared into his eyes. “Could it have made you happy even if you didn’t want to do it?”
Talmer thought about the question, realizing that it wasn’t actual
ly about him. His voice turned somber. “My father’s power outclasses my own by a far greater margin than I can imagine. And he is as unforgiving as he is powerful. If I had ever challenged him, he would not have held back because I was his son. In fact, a challenge from his progeny most certainly would have made him even more ferocious.” He watched her head droop in frustration. He looked over the railing, but couldn’t see the thing coming for them. “You ask these questions not about my father,” he offered, “but about the Entregon sailing toward us.”
Grace nodded her head as a tear rolled down her cheek. Talmer didn’t realize that her projection could do that, but once again he felt a connection between them.
“My father has terrorized me my entire life,” Talmer started again. “He taught me that nothing was off limits in business as long as you came out ahead. Nothing mattered beyond how others perceived you. He promoted underhanded tactics and taught us how to cover them up. I realized long ago that I didn’t want to be that type of fey. I wanted to make it on my own without resorting to such things. I would beat him at his own game and be a better fey doing it.” He paused for a moment, reading Grace’s expression. He reached out for her hand and was rewarded with her compliance. “If I were to beat him on his terms, there would be no value in the victory.”
Graces expression changed as she let the last few words sink in. “You’re right,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “If I stoop to that level I would be no better than the Entregon, although I think our power difference is similar to you and your father’s.”
Talmer winced, he didn’t like to think of anything being more powerful than Grace. To him, she was the perfect complement to himself. “They’ve come up with a plan,” Grace announced suddenly. Turning, she began to walk to the bridge. Talmer held her hand, pulling her back lightly, but she just cocked her head sideways and gave him a warm smile. She pulled her hand from his grasp and continued.
Talmer waited several minutes, trying hard to calm his raging emotions. It shouldn’t have been this way. It should have just been he and Grace. The others were always in the way now, even when they were together. He started at the doorway to the bridge and suppressed the urge to scream. It was as if Grace was choosing them over him. Anger flashed as he spun to face the water. He refused to let himself feel hurt over anyone.
◆◆◆
Inside, Grace was surprised to find Serin and Leslie waiting in the lower bridge. Before she knew it, they were both hugging her. Even with all that was going on, she couldn’t help but smile. “What was that for?” she asked as the pair eventually let her go.
Serin stepped forward and picked up her friend’s hand. “I was looking for you. I told you I wouldn’t fight, and I did it anyway. I’m sorry.” She dropped her gaze, unable to look the ship in the eye. “I’m such a hotheaded idiot sometimes.”
“It…it’s okay,” Grace replied sincerely.
“No,” Serin admitted, “it’s not. I may not like Talmer, but it was your trust I broke.” She brushed her hand over Grace’s pale cheek. “You deserve an honest apology.”
“I… You don’t… I mean…” Grace was at a loss for words. She shook her head. “Thank you.” Talmer had helped her realize what was truly important, and these two solidified that with a simple gesture. “I…I think the captain has a plan. I was going to see if he needed my help.”
Leslie stepped up. “We’ll offer our assistance, as well, then.”
The trio marched up the stairs in unison, heads popping into the upper bridge at nearly the same time. They were just in time for Charles to grumble audibly, adding, “I feel like a sixth wheel here.”
“Get over it,” Barclay replied dispassionately before noticing the ladies coming up the stairs. “And what do you know, I was just about to call a meeting.” Grace caught his suspicious glance before he addressed the fey. “I think we have a plan that just might give us a little breathing room and time to think. There is just one catch.”
The three women looked at each other and Leslie smiled. “Whatever it is, we trust you.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN:
Icebreaker
It hadn’t taken long to explain the plan. Unfortunately, that meant the last half hour passed with interminable silence. Barclay, Serin, Leslie, and Talmer were spread out over the dimly lit deck. Each had a different position to cover and role to play. As much as Charles might have been useful on the docks, neither he nor Barclay trusted his wolf form to discern friend from foe. He was banished to the bridge, tasked with playing assistant to Grace.
“Can you bring up the map again,” Charles asked softly.
“It doesn’t matter how many times you look at it, the layout isn’t going to change,” she chided as the captain’s crudely drawn layout sprung to life.
Charles focused his attention on the small brick building with a large tower behind it. The Dunkirk lighthouse, like many lighthouses on the Great Lakes, was built over one of the ancient dimensional pockets. Even though the pockets were hidden on their own, the fey wanted to do everything they could to discourage humans from loitering around them. Modern times had brought about GPS and computers, but these old buildings still held their secrets. The image of Grace on the map blipped closer to the structure. Charles had been watching closely for the past ten minutes to see if he could detect any sign that their enemies might be aware of their movements.
“Have I ever told you that I hate pockets?” Charles asked.
“How can you hate something like that? It would be like hating rocks, or water,” Grace teased. Both were nervous, but talking was a pleasant distraction.
“I hate the fact that I can’t see what’s coming through them,” Charles responded. “Every push or prod with my senses just results in nothingness. It is a distinctly powerless feeling.”
Grace considered what he had said. “The pockets are unique, but being afraid of something just because you can’t see what is coming seems a bit silly. Think of it as a surprise,” she offered with a smile. “Maybe it will be something good.”
Charles sighed, but returned the smile. “Only you would consider breaking through a Union blockade a surprise.” Charles grabbed a microphone Grace had recently installed for just this occasion and glared out the front window. “Forty-five seconds until we cross the pocket.” His metallic words echoed through the outdoor speakers. The ship was dangerously close to the shore and bearing down on it at full speed. Had there been any onlookers, they would have surely raised alarm. But in the inky blackness of the early night, Grace’s great form was just a sound on the water.
Grace smiled one last time before staring at the ceiling. A perfect circle opened above her head, and her manifestation rose through. Her feet touched down on the roof and she seemed to attach like a magnet. Charles could only just see her back now, and moved to the front windows. Time seemed to slow as the tension in the air grew heavy. Everyone on deck watched as the bow of the ship hit the intersection of the land and water. There were no terrible sounds or earth shattering upheavals. Instead, the bow just slipped out of sight.
The exact point where water, air, and earth met was always a place of magic. The three elements each had their own energy and, when they mixed, interesting things were possible. At this point, the interesting thing was that the pocket opened up and the ship slipped out of sync with the world. The ship seemed to disappear and the waves just lapped where it had once been.
Once through the event horizon, everyone on the ship was sent into a mad scramble. A natural pocket like this wasn’t simply a bubble over a magical ship, it was a full teardrop of lake that was punched through dimensions-. The sky and outer wall of the pocket was an eerie gray nothingness. The teardrop formed a a three mile long, two mile wide waterway to a portal visibly rising from the the center. At the far end, a wide, ten-story tower stood out against the gray background. In front of the tower, a cadre of boats sat in full alert.
Once Grace passed through the pocket, spurts of light erupted fro
m the ships. Magic arced through the sky with Barclay and Serin intercepting the attacks before they could touch Grace. Grace dropped the camouflage runes and pushed everything she had into reshaping the ship.
“One minute until Grace is done, I need everyone to make sure we don’t get hit by that magic,” Barclay yelled over the explosions and rush of air.
Barclay’s skin was the same blue hue it had been when he came to rescue everyone from shore. Charles could tell he wasn’t holding back. The same went for Serin as steam rose from her skin and red pulses shimmered through. Leslie and Talmer stood patiently waiting for their part in the plan. The deck began to shift and change once more as Grace resumed her original form with one exception. Her bow rose up higher and layer upon layer of steel interlaced over it.
◆◆◆
Barclay removed his restrictions and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he brought the full weight of his magic from the depths within him. Serin took the cue and did the same, immediately releasing the three fireballs she knew so well. She hadn’t quite recovered from the fight earlier, but she didn’t have the luxury of taking it easy. Another volley of magical attacks from the other ships sailed through the air.
“I will take care of what I can, but I need you to take care of anything that gets through,” Barclay shouted before he jumped in the water. As he crested the surface, he started a spell he kept just for emergencies. Swimming slightly in front of Grace, he pulled at the water slowly, gradually finding a rhythm. A wave began to swell and then subside as Grace’s bow bobbed up and down. With one final pull, Barclay activated the magic he had pumped into the water and the wave sprang to life. It loomed thirty feet above the surrounding sea and engulfed the magic projectiles heading toward Grace. The wave caught more and more as the volley increased. Barclay heard the familiar sound of a tower gun let loose.
