Spirit of the Sea

by Keith Walter

  CHAPTER TWELVE:

  The Prices We Pay

  The shift was immediate. One moment, they were crossing their fingers praying to the gods. The next, everything was quiet and calm. Charles could finally see a real sky above, and he breathed a prolonged sigh of relief. He gazed out into the blue waters ahead, almost surprised not to find more warships. He smirked, realizing even the Union wasn’t limitless, and had probably only just had time to prepare their arrival to the portal. But, they would certainly be bearing down on this exit soon.

  Charles heard Grace reopen a hole in the roof and the soft thud of her feet landing behind him. “That was incredible!” he yelled, unable to stifle the enthusiasm of having escaped. “You were—” his words caught in his throat when he turned and saw the woman.

  The carefree and confident Grace he was used to looked decidedly different. The flowing white dress that had been so perfect was gray with soot and black with burns. Grace’s hair was frazzled and uneven where it had been singed halfway off. She swayed on her feet. Charles was across the room in an instant, catching her before she hit the ground. He crouched low, easing her to the floor and pulling her back to rest against his chest. “Gods! Are you okay?”

  Grace stared forward, unblinking. She seemed unable to grasp the words asked. Caught in her own thoughts, she stated flatly, “That…hurt.”

  “How did this happen?” Charles asked desperately. The moment Grace had fallen, he felt the sudden deceleration of the ship, as if the engines had been cut. He waited for a response, but when the woman in his arms remained silent, he bit his lip and touched his head to hers. “Grace, I need you to look at me. Please.”

  The woman bobbed her head as confusion overrode her features. Slowly, she lifted her eyes and turned to search for the voice nearby. When she finally locked on the man behind her, recognition flared in her mind. “Charles,” she stated in the same emotionless tone.

  “Yes, Charles,” the panicking man agreed. “Tell me what happened to you.”

  Grace looked down, trying to piece together the memory. “That...hurt.”

  “What the hell happened?” Barclay’s voice boomed as he came running up the stairs. “Why’d we stop moving?” As his head appeared in the upper bridge, his eyes locked on Grace. “Oh, hell,” he breathed out, voice deflating. The captain rumbled over and knelt in front of Grace. Had he not known she was the ship, he’d say the glassy look in her eyes was a concussion.

  The captain nodded, feeling a familiar guilt well up in his belly. He’d seen how powerful Grace was and just expected her to be fine through all of it. He shoved the guilt down as he’d done too many times before. They needed to keep moving. Whatever victory they’d made would be for naught if they didn’t get going again. “Gracie, I know you’re hurting, and I’m sorry about that, but we gotta keep going. Can you keep going for everybody, just a little bit longer?”

  Grace stared, not at but through the captain. “Where is the sea?” She asked, entranced.

  “What’s she talking about?” Charles demanded suddenly, hoping the captain might know what was happening.

  “The sea?” Barclay pondered. He turned and looked out at the flowing dark expanse in front of them. It was impossible to miss. Without even looking, he could feel the hum of water from just about anywhere. The motion of the oceans and other great bodies of water filled his essence just by proximity. Of course, the sea! “She’s magic deprived,” Barclay announced. “She wore herself ragged. The ice cut her off for too long and she depleted her reserves. She’s trying to find the sea because that’s where her power comes from.” He frowned, gently rubbing the growing stubble on his chin. “But we’re on the sea. Why can’t she rebuild her reserves?”

  “Of course,” Charles added. “How could I be so stupid?” At Barclay’s questioning gaze, he explained, “We’ve been taking fire that should have been putting holes in the ship itself. But it didn’t, because Grace IS the ship. She knew she couldn’t block everything, but also that we couldn’t afford to slow down.” He tried to ignore just why he’d missed such an obvious connection, how truly frightened he’d felt upon seeing her hurt. “She’s still trying to heal off massive damage in real time, and like a starving man in front of a buffet, she’s choking to keep up.”

  Barclay stared at the lifeless woman in front of him, cursing his own weakness. It never should have gone this far, he was responsible for keeping her safe. “What can we do?” he asked, keeping his eyes on Grace.

  Charles sighed. “We wait for her to heal enough to get ahead, which could be minutes or hours. Hmm, or…” he trailed off, closing his eyes in contemplation. “No, we just have to wait.”

  “Or what? We don’t have hours. We may not even have minutes,” Barclay demanded.

  “We give her a jump-start, a strong enough influx of magic to make a dent in the healing process.” Charles stared at the floor with the explanation.

  “So what’s the problem?” Barclay asked, already rolling up his sleeves. “She can take everything I have right now.”

  “It won’t work,” Charles replied quickly. Barclay narrowed his eyes, and Charles squirmed slightly. “I don’t mean to insult you, but you’re just not strong enough. It’d be like trying to fill a bucket with a raindrop.”

  The captain stopped rolling up his sleeves. He considered taking offense at the slight, but understood if anyone on this boat had the experience to say that, it was someone as powerful as the Glorious General. He furrowed his brows, realizing what Charles wasn’t saying. “So we need someone else with a bucket of magic.”

  Charles frowned, realizing the implication. “That’s not an option.”

  “Ain’t it?” Barclay asked curiously. “I saw the scars, you can’t control your power, which probably shoulda killed you by now. But it’s still there, and you can use it if you really want to, like when you went all werebeast back at the docks. What’s stopping you from doing that again?”

  “Perhaps you missed the part where I ended up a crispy steak afterward,” Charles replied. He shook his head when he noticed Barclay’s serious demeanor. “Look, if it was as simple as ending up hurt again, I’d be all for it. Even if it meant trading my life for hers, I could justify it. Whatever is left inside me isn’t magic like you know it. It’s dangerous to the point that everyone on board could be incinerated in an instant. With no control, it might as well be a bomb.”

  Barclay stared at the younger man hard, not liking the options at hand. Still, he added, “That’s not your call.” He stood up to his full height. “I’m the captain of this ship, and I make the big decisions.” He dared Charles to disagree. “We’re barely ahead of the Entregon, and the rest of the Union is going to be bearing down on us any minute. If Grace can’t move, we’re dead anyway.” Looking at Grace, he admitted, “But you’re right, your power probably is dangerous, and we can’t risk Grace in the process.”

  “I’m sorry,” Charles added, but was cut off.

  “That’s why I’ll be doing it for you,” the captain stated firmly.

  “What?” Charles questioned.

  Barclay knelt back down. He grabbed Charles’s shoulder in his right hand while placing his left on Grace’s knee. “You are going to peel away the spells and runes suppressing your magic and let it flow. I’m going redirect it to Grace at a steady pace so you don’t hurt her by accident.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying,” Charles replied. “It will kill you, then her, then everyone else.”

  “No, it won’t,” Barclay declared. “Not if you just work with me here.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  Barclay stared down the reluctant man before him. Summoning all the sincerity he could, he replied, “I beat you until you have no choice but to release your power, then try it anyway.”

  “This is a bad idea, old man.” Charles slowly dispelled minor spell after minor spell. Unseen runes appeared on his skin before burning away. As seconds passed, the bridge filled with pressure like
falling into the depths of the ocean.

  “Don’t I know it,” Barclay agreed quietly. When the pressure intensified, the captain tensed his muscles, even knowing it would do no good. Metal groaned and wood cracked with the power expanding outward. Carefully, Barclay opened up a connection. Magic assaulted his senses, flowing through his veins like acid, bursting from his pores like flame. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out, replaced instead by a blinding light emitting from his throat and pupils.

  The world was pain, but Barclay knew pain was just perception. The real world was still out there and he had to get back. Focus on the mission, ignore everything else. The burning in his veins let up and his mind cleared enough to recognize Grace under his left hand. The power raging inside wasn’t his own, but he forced it to follow his will, pushing it down his arm into the woman underneath. The pain alleviated from his head, switching to his hands as the connection was complete.

  Raw energy surged from Charles and the captain desperately tried to calm it as it passed through him. Like sitting too close to a fire in swirling winds, the energy burned and subsided without a rhyme or reason. Barclay glanced at his right arm, noting the charcoal-black skin covering his hand. One moment the fire of the energy would blow directly upon him, and the burns would stretch farther up his arm. The next, the fire would blow away and he’d swallow a few breaths before it came back.

  The power running through him now dwarfed his own strength, but that didn’t mean he was helpless. Already his own magic was building up in his skin, forming a protective layer to keep the fire inside. He focused further, mentally creating a filter around his right shoulder in order to stem the uneven tides coming in. Most of his power went to his left arm, funneling the flames into a smooth, healing pulse. Pain shot up his burned arm again and he grit his teeth. He needed to hold as long as it took.

  “Get ready, I’m going to take off the last layer she should need,” Charles announced as he concentrated on a prominent rune shape on his forehead.

  “Wait, more?” The captain was struck suddenly by the magnitude of his bad decision. He was struggling to hold on already, but it was apparent Charles was nowhere close to his maximum. Barclay felt a bit like a bulb filament just before someone flipped on the light switch. He tried to readjust the flow inside himself quickly—open the filter, reinforce the funnel, and relax his center to allow for as much stretching as it could handle without breaking.

  “Here goes,” was the last thing Barclay heard. The pain was so intense he lost consciousness almost immediately, a small benefit. His preparations held, however, and the magic flowed through him. As Charles’s power burned its way up Barclay’s arm, it was redirected smooth and constant to Grace’s human form. His limbs began to shine as his body fought to keep the power inside, illuminating the room around.

  ◆◆◆

  Grace was floating, surrounded by soft light and warmth. She couldn’t recall how long she had been in the place, but something was beginning to change. Instead of an ethereal softness, her skin began to feel pricks and cold out of nowhere. The sensations picked up as they spread across her body, fatigue and pain washing over her in waves. A great throbbing pounded on her cheek and she covered her face with her hands. Then, as if a spell was broken, the real world came tumbling in upon her. She found herself on the bridge, her bridge.

  Her eyes fell to the hand on her knee, glowing with light. She could feel a great light like sunshine on her skin, and it pulled her gaze to the left. For several seconds, she didn’t recognize what she saw—what looked like a man, shining like the sun itself. As her eyes adjusted, she made out the closer features, recognizing the face. “Captain?” she asked. But he didn’t respond, and slowly her mind caught up to the images around her. Her eyes darted to the hand on her knee, following it back to the captain and around to Charles, now drenched in sweat as he tried to hold on to the remaining spells containing his power. Realization struck her like lightning and she screamed, “No!”

  Grace grabbed the captain by his left shoulder and wrenched him away from Charles. She nearly gagged when she heard a loud crack from the hand gripped tightly on Charles’s shoulder and the ensuing tick-tack like stones hitting the floor. “No, no, no!” she yelled, grabbing the hand on her knee tightly. She focused on the white hot light in the captain’s eyes. A spell flashed to mind—a spell that had been etched into her memory, one she never thought could actually help, and which she had not dared use before. Her fingers dug into the captain’s palm, and she forcefully pulled the remaining magic out of him. She tried to ignore how sweet it tasted, taking the magic of another, and cut off the drain abruptly once the light in the captain’s eyes faded.

  Tears fell as she stared at the charred and shriveled arm hanging lifelessly from the captain’s right shoulder. There were no fingers on what was left of the hand, and she refused to look back at the floor, where she was sure they had fallen. Suddenly, she saw the captain’s chest rise as he sucked in air. She wanted to cry with joy, but the tears were already out. If he was breathing, she could heal him, she was sure of it. Grace brought both hands together, palms down, over the captain’s chest. She built up energy in her hands, readying to pour herself into healing. She was shocked to hear a whisper issue from the burned lips in front of her.

  “Don’t,” Barclay breathed, which in itself sounded like a struggle. “Gotta…move…” he managed.

  Grace’s eyebrows rose in confusion. She whipped her head around, noting the collapsed man behind her and…the lake out the windows. She had stopped. When had she stopped? It took just moments to take stock of her own health. She was severely depleted. She would need what magic she had to run the engines until the water could restore her. If she diverted the magic it would take to heal the captain, it would significantly limit their speed. She stared at the captain’s single open eye, pleading, “Captain, let me.”

  Barclay cut her off, choking out, “That’s…an order.”

  Grace covered her eyes to hide the tears. The ship lurched forward, picking up speed quickly out into Lake Ontario. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “This is my fault.”

  “No, kid,” Barclay breathed. He was losing vision in the one good eye he still had, darkness closing in from the edges. Just before he passed out, he added, “Mine.”

  Charles was worn out. He had been sure that trying to hold the greater suppressing spells while letting the others go wouldn’t work. And yet, he was still alive. He felt ashamed at what had happened to the captain. In the moments after Grace pulled them all apart, Charles had focused entirely on rebuilding the spells and runes he’d let go. Without Barclay holding him up, he had fallen in a heap on the floor. Now, he rolled to his hands and knees before standing carefully. He’d heard Grace’s cries and the captain’s strangled words. He had to move, taking three short steps before crouching behind Grace.

  He reached out to the ship, grasping her trembling shoulders. “Grace, are you okay?”

  Grace sniffled, trying to hold back a louder outburst. “It’s my fault,” she declared.

  “Grace, you’ve done more than any of us could have ever asked. The captain knew the risks more than anyone.” Charles wanted to stop the tears, but he was almost sure he was telling the truth also. “You can’t blame yourself for what he and I decided.”

  “But, you shouldn’t have had to,” she replied.

  “We can’t change what happened,” Charles admitted. “Sometimes you risk everything for family.” At that she turned and he offered an apologetic smile.

  Grace seemed to calm her tears, and a wistful look came upon her. “My family didn’t treat each other that way,” she admitted softly. “I can’t even be sure this is the right thing to do.”

  “That makes two of us,” Charles offered. “Family isn’t really a fond word for me, but us?” He gestured around the room, hesitating over Barclay. “Working together? This is as close as I have ever come.” Grace turned away from Barclay’s unconsci
ous form and hugged Charles tightly. She shook and buried her sobs in his chest as he held her. “This isn’t your fault,” he repeated.

  Grace let her tears subside before pulling away and rising to her feet. Her eyes locked on Barclay’s gruesome right arm, and her whole body shivered. She managed to look back at Charles, realization alighting her features. “You are powerful. Enough to heal me. Could you heal him?”

  Charles’s hand reached toward the back of his head, but he pulled it down. “That’s not possible. My magic is…unpredictable. I don’t have the control required of a healer. I’d do more damage if I tried.”

  “We can’t let him die!” Grace cried.

  “We won’t.” Charles fixed Grace with a serious stare. Suddenly, he was on his knees, shuffling to the captain’s side. He bent forward, scanning the old fey’s body before scooping him up. “I’m going to carry him to his cabin. Are there still bandages in your room?”

  “Yes, but I can make more if—”

  “No! The captain did this so you could heal yourself, don’t waste an ounce of magic on anything but that and keeping us moving,” Charles cut in. “Tell Serin and Leslie what’s going on. Tell them to grab what supplies you already have and meet me in his room. They should know basic healing at least.” Charles lifted Barlcay’s body in his arms gently and moved to the stairway. He had to angle himself sideways to fit down, and she was glad the captain wasn’t awake for the jostling and scraping that would surely ensue.

  Just as he took the first side-step down, Grace asked, “What about Talmer?”

  Charles paused, sighing. He seemed to weigh that option carefully before shaking his head. “Is your radar still online?”

  Grace looked behind to the dashboard. “Yes,” she answered, and a light flicker on behind her. She hoped he would ignore the incautious use of her powers.

  “Have Talmer keep an eye out. We can’t have you focusing on anything but getting better and driving straight.” He continued down the steps, Grace close behind. As he reached the bottom, they parted ways and Charles proceeded below deck.