by Keith Walter
“Actually, there is a bit more to do now, a pool and mini-golf for example,” Grace added with a smile.
“Hot damn, Gracie, if I wasn’t with Serin already, I think I’d be in love with you,” Leslie declared. “We’ll never be able to thank you for all this.”
“Oh, I’m just glad to help,” Grace replied, her voice muffled by the long arms around her.
“Did I miss something?” a new voice broke in. “Serin might not like the way this looks.” Charles sidled up to the embracing pair once he realized Grace had returned.
“Aw, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Leslie retorted. “But what you tell her might make me hurt you,” she added, smiling brightly.
“Duly noted,” Charles declared. “You might want to let her breathe, though.” Leslie’s face fell momentarily as she glanced at Grace, whose face was completely buried in her bosom. She let go quickly, whispering an apology.
“It’s fine, really,” Grace mollified, though her deep breaths belied the statement. She tried to smile sweetly at the taller woman. Turning away, she glanced at Charles, who seemed to light up when he caught her eye.
“This is pretty damn impressive,” he grinned. “If I’m not mistaken, I just saw a relief carving of the first great peace between the Ancients. It was so detailed it seemed like it might come to life.”
“Yeah,” Grace admitted. “I, um, thought some art might liven up the interior.”
“You were right,” Leslie commented, now spinning in a slow circle as she took in the carvings around the entire area. “How do you do that?”
“It’s easier for me, I guess. I can make the walls look like whatever I can imagine,” Grace explained, embarrassed.
“Well, I’m not even sure I can imagine things that impressive,” Leslie admitted. “You’ve got some real talent there.” She grinned. “Maybe when we all get out of this, you can become a great artist.”
“Oh!” Grace exclaimed, blushing furiously. “I…they aren’t that good.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Charles cut in. “These would fit right in at any of the fanciest noble estates. Though if we’re dreaming about a future past tomorrow, I think all this luxury might have made it difficult for any of us to ever leave you.”
“Maybe,” Grace began, “you wouldn’t have to.” She smiled to herself. “I would be happy to stay with all of you for as long as you are willing.”
“You are just too adorable,” Leslie half squealed. She grasped Grace’s shoulders, but stopped herself from giving another suffocating hug. “But before you go making such generous offers, let’s focus on getting out of here.” Grace nodded, determination shining in her eyes.
A commotion sounded from outside the glass doorway leading to the lounging deck. Moments later, Talmer slid one side of the doorway hard, letting out a bang as the door found the end of its track. The fingers on both his hands glowed a dim pink, and he immediately spread them out over the inside wall. He moved them quickly, searching for something unseen before following the wall toward the stern, keeping one hand sliding along the wall the whole time. He hit the far corner of the room, turned ninety degrees, and continued along the back wall, heading straight for the kitchen.
“What’s he in such a rush for?” Leslie spat out in disdain. “If he was causing more problems with Serin…” She let the threat hang over the companions at her side.
Charles chuckled. “Not likely. If he was causing trouble without you there to play peacemaker, he’d be sporting a black eye or two.” He stared at the spell emanating from Talmer’s fingers, the movements clearly focused, probing. “What’s he looking for?”
Just as Talmer’s fingers brushed the doorway to the kitchen, he stopped as if frozen. His face broke into a bright smile, the first real smile anyone but Grace had seen from him. For that moment, he was a sincerely ecstatic child being given the best present he could imagine.
The moment was broken as Leslie yelled across the room, “Talmer, what are you doing here?”
The dark-haired man broke from his trance, jumping at the sound of his own name. He looked around the room, seeming to only just realize that he wasn’t alone. He caught sight of Leslie’s piercing gaze and turned away, looking around him quickly before settling on the buffet table to his left. He leapt toward the table, grabbing the first thing that looked edible. He plopped the two lobster tails he’d grabbed onto a nearby plate and held it up toward Leslie. And as quickly as he came, he ran out of the room, a grin still plastered to his face.
“I guess he was just hungry,” Grace offered, confusion apparent in her voice.
“He didn’t even take silverware,” Leslie replied, sounding suspicious. “I can’t imagine Eighth Son there dirtying his hands even if he was starving to death.”
Charles glanced at Leslie, whose eyes remained trained on the door where Talmer had made his exit. She seemed to feel his eyes and turned. Both shared a look of concern and confusion. “Well, can’t blame a guy if he’s hungry,” Charles stated. He caught Leslie’s eyes again as he added, “Might be worth checking out what’s so good.”
Grace smiled obliviously, “Yes, I’ve prepared several new dishes tonight.” She inclined her head toward the brown-eyed girl who had taken to staring at the buffet like a hawk. “Do, please, try them.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN:
Nothing Like a Bad Plan
When Grace informed Leslie and Charles that Serin was looking to gather upstairs, they were immediately on edge. Grace seemed mostly unperturbed, which calmed Charles and caused Leslie to feel even more confused. They suspected no immediate danger, but Leslie knew her bond could be rash when it came to making decisions. She at least appreciated that Serin had sought to call them together before making her move.
“You’re here,” Serin announced before fixing Grace with a grin. “Thanks for that.” Serin waited for the trio to enter and settle in before continuing. “So I have been thinking about our situation and Charles was right.” She forced her fire to calm when a dopey grin spread across Charles’s face in response. “The Union has started to move, and the only way we make the seaway is if we clear the playing field.”
Charles frowned in disbelief. “And you found a way to make that happen?”
“Maybe,” Serin admitted. Slowly, she reached under the steering wheel and lifted up a golden object.
Leslie stared at the ornate key blankly. “A pocket key? You aren’t really suggesting we drop anchor and try to wait out the entire Union navy?”
“No, not like that. Look.” She lit a small flame from her thumb and pressed it to the key. The gold shimmered with a faint orange for several seconds before returning to its original color.
“That’s cool,” Charles replied skeptically, “but I fail to see how that helps us.”
Serin place the key down by the wheel and pointedly looked out the front window. “You said that Tezcatlipoca don’t have friends or enemies, only territory. It seems like if you can get one’s attention, you can cause one hell of a ruckus.”
Leslie paled and Charles closed his eyes tightly. “I think maybe you missed the part where pissing one of those things off gets most of us killed.”
“No,” Serin replied without turning, “I heard pretty darn well.” She snatched up the key, this time building up a basketball sized flame in her left hand before slamming it on the key. The key flared bright red and Serin tossed it to Leslie. “What do you feel?”
Leslie caught the key, cool though shimmering red. She turned the key over in her hands before both her eyebrows raised suddenly. “It feels like you,” she announced.
“My family know a fair bit about magical artifacts. That is an incredibly rare key you hold. It absorbs magic from the world around, allowing potentially infinite use.” She scowled briefly. “I’ve seen only one such key before. I don’t even want to consider where Barclay got it.”
Grace took the key from Leslie, studying it carefully. “What are you suggesting?”
<
br /> Serin finally turned away from the windows, catching Charles with a serious stare. “You’re not all you let on,” she accused.
“I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about,” Charles replied quickly, briefly exchanging a glance with a surprised Grace.
It was Leslie who responded after a long breath. “We were on the docks, you know. We saw what you did, what you are.” She paused before adding, “And we may not be natural healers or sensors, but we have a pretty good idea of what happened to the captain.”
Charles gaped, his jaw moving up and down but not finding any words to reply. Serin sighed and watched the man sympathetically. “We respect that you have your reasons for hiding,” she offered. “We aren’t asking how or why. But you don’t have to pretend you’re just another fey.”
Charles found the closest seat and dropped into it with a sigh of his own. “Let’s say I don’t deny what you’re saying,” he began. “What is your plan?”
Serin pointed at the key. “That thing is crazy powerful. It can absorb way more magic than it actually needs to work. And when it’s fully charged, as it is now, any further magic you force in will slowly leak back out. That’s why when I try to burn it, it feels like me.”
“You’re suggesting we set one of the oldest and most powerful Tezcatlipoca in Union territories on Charles?” Grace was working herself up already. “I will not allow it.”
Leslie took a step toward Grace. “I still think it foolish to even consider waking the owner of these lakes. It would only be more so to bring its wrath down upon one of our own.”
Charles eyed Serin, who seemed to shrink in on herself from her closest companions turning on her. “But that’s not the plan, is it?” he asked. “You think if I charge up this key enough, we can dump it overboard. The Tezcatlipoca can get itself all worked up over an invader, but eventually settle when the key fades. Am I right?”
“That was the idea,” Serin admitted.
Silence reigned as the four contemplated the idea. Leslie was the first one to comment. “But if it was that easy to wake it up, why hasn’t it gotten upset with Grace, or more, the Entregon already?”
“We are kin, of a kind,” Grace answered. “Alignak was born of the glaciers that carved these lakes. She does more than simply feed on the waters here, she has become one with them.” She closed her eyes and smiled. “I can feel her, as she can feel me. Tezcatlipoca may not have friends, but they live within the balance of nature. So long as I keep my intentions clear, she understands that I am just passing through.”
Leslie was aghast when Grace so casually spoke that name. But when no wind or waves came after them, she was forced to accept that Grace was likely telling the truth. “Okay, so let’s say we try this. I’m not saying I’m on board yet, but how do we make sure it doesn’t think Charles is just passing through, too?”
“Oh, I don’t think we’ll need to worry about that,” Charles answered seriously. “I can be quite antagonistic when I want to be.” He winked at Grace, who smiled in return.
Grace thought for a moment. “Magic is molded by intentions. If Charles could focus anger and challenge into his magic, Alignak would certainly take notice.”
“So we’re doing this?” Serin asked.
All eyes turned to Grace. She shrank under their stares before spreading her feet and taking a deep breath. She lifted her head and caught each pair of eyes in turn. “I can feel the Union closing in. If they find us before the Entregon, I know she will cease her game. We need a way out, and this is the only plan we’ve got.” She reached out a hand toward Charles, offering the key. “If you agree to this, then I agree to it.”
“I’ll do it,” Charles quickly replied. He plucked the key from her hand and took a deep breath. Waving the key at Serin and Leslie, he added, “But one of you are going to tell Barclay. This thing is basically priceless, and we’re about to throw it overboard like a rotten apple.”
Serin scowled but nodded. “This was my plan.”
He took a few steps toward the door before turning and raising an eyebrow. “Um, releasing my power has a rather draining effect. It would probably be best if someone else did the throwing once I charge this thing up.”
Leslie placed a hand on Serin’s shoulder before replying, “I will assist you.” She winked at her bond. “This is all of our plan now.”
Grace’s eyes fixed on the floor suddenly, and all three pairs of eyes waited for her to speak. “Um, Charles, I suspect that, should this work, it might be best if I relaxed and gathered my strength. As you may be taxed by this as well, perhaps you could recover in the engine room again? I, well, I had another mural that you might, maybe, want to see. You could, perhaps, keep me company after and I could show it to you.”
“Have you two been spending time together lately?” Leslie asked suspiciously.
“I’d be happy to,” Charles replied immediately, ignoring Leslie’s question. He stared at the floor quickly when Grace looked up at him with a stomach-twisting smile. Nodding, he addressed the bonded. “If this works, you can bet things are going to get hairy. You should get your people ready for a bumpy ride.”
Five minutes later, Leslie stood on the back deck with Charles as he unlaced his restraining spells for a second time. The key began to shimmer as it drank the energy from his body. “It’s going to take a few minutes to charge. If I let it all go too quickly…well, it could end badly.” He couldn’t help but think of the captain as he spoke.
“The Union is taking great pains to find you,” Leslie replied knowingly. At Charles’s shocked expression, she added, “I don’t know why, but I don’t care. The things you’ve done for us, they can’t be repaid.” She let out a long breath as Charles fell to his knees from the strain of his own power. “I’m glad you’re on our side.”
“You might not feel that way in a moment,” Charles replied as he fought to keep himself in one piece. He held the key close as if in prayer, kneeling as the key began to grow hot in his hands. Another minute later and he began reapplying the runes on his skin. “It’s done,” he spoke with obvious fatigue.
“I’ll take it from here,” Leslie replied. She reached out and took the key from his hands. Rootlike tattoos covered her arm as she reared back and threw the key far out into the lake. Noticing Charles was still catching his breath on the deck, she moved forward and clapped him on the back. “Why don’t you take some time to rest.”
“Thanks,” Charles replied seriously. “I think I’ll do just that.”
◆◆◆
Talmer had been foolish to think the heart was in the bridge. He realized now the mistake was his fey bias, and Grace was so much more than a fey. Each time he had sought the source of the magic keeping the ship running, he had been led directly to Grace’s feminine manifestation. That form was like a battery, providing the energy to the monitors and engines and lights in his cabin. But the battery needed to recharge, and that required her heart.
When the giantess had informed him of Grace’s impending plans to complete another transformation, he knew opportunity had finally come knocking. He couldn’t afford to let this moment pass. When Leslie left to gather the filthy converts, he was careful to hold his tongue with the annoying midget who remained. He refrained from pointing out how circuitous her routes were or how unhealthy her posture was—hunched over the radar map and just one hand on the steering wheel. No, he’d remained perfectly silent, focused instead on bolstering the magical sensitivity and tracking spells in his fingertips. Just one blip, one single vein to the heart—if he could catch that during her transformation, he knew he would find it.
Luck was with him, as that’s exactly what happened. The pulse was unmistakable when he felt it. Where the magic from her battery was constant and smooth, the flow from the heart was like a controlled explosion. He felt it the moment the bridge began to warp and shift around, and it directed him below. Still, he waited. Serin was clearly dim-witted, but she would likely grow suspicious if he was to simply r
un out of the room unannounced. No, he knew the taste of that magic now, and he could wait.
He barely remembered what excuse he gave once the transformation stopped, something about checking on Grace. In retrospect, not far off from the truth. Serin simply waived him off in her condescending manner, but still he held his tongue. He wouldn’t have to deal with them much longer. When he had tracked the pulse back to its source, he practically cried with how obvious it was. Turning on a light or spinning a propeller were nothing to even the average fey. But creating—rearranging the particles of the world into something completely different—that took real power. Clearly, if anywhere on the ship would require a more direct line from the heart, it would be the kitchen, where Grace was churning out delicacies born from the air itself.
Talmer thought back to the disdainful stare of the giantess as she yelled at him, flouting the benevolence he had shown purely for Grace’s well-being. Once Grace understood, once she was his and he hers, she wouldn’t care when he paid back the multitudes of sleights that had been leveled against him. Taking two quick breaths, he calmed himself. Now wasn’t the time to get over-excited, there was too much work to be done.
He’d tossed the lobster tails and plate overboard once he was outside. He had too much to do now, an no time to eat. He ran down the walkway, sidestepping the stairway to the second level and turning quickly into a rather nondescript cabin door. He had spent enough time in his own cabin that it still held the faint afterglow of his majestic presence. As he surveyed the room, his heart filled. The color scheme was black and gold, matching his own hair and eyes. The bed was incredibly soft, likely full goose down. The room itself was equidistant from the front and rear stairwells, promising minimal foot traffic outside. Talmer clasped his hands and took a deep breath. Surely, Grace cared for him already, her attention to detail and the specific concern this showed for his pleasure were unmistakable.
