by Keith Walter
Taking a final deep breath, he wrapped his hands around the oblong object and pulled. It didn’t budge at first, and he positioned himself with one foot against the space between both ovens. He gathered his power in his limbs and pulled with everything he had. A sound like lightning scorching the air erupted from the heart as it was wrenched from its proper place. Giant sparks jumped from each end as it lost connection to the ship. Talmer was thrown backward by the force of his pull and slammed into the forward wall. Without taking even a moment to check for injuries, he was back to his feet and sprinting out the kitchen door and through the dining area.
He kicked open the door to the deck and turned hard toward the bow. As the dining room wall gave way to open space, he took a wide turn to position himself on direct line to the three sailboats near the shore. He picked up speed and wind began to disturb the air around him. Just as he reached top speed, he clenched one arm around the heart and kicked off the deck with calculated strength. He called upon the winds and they pushed him higher and farther. In seconds, the sailboats began to fill his whole view. He pushed down and the wind slowed his forward momentum and descent. When he finally landed on the deck of the middle boat, it barely reacted to his soft touch.
Turning to the small dock to which the boats were tied, Talmer waved three precise gusts that sliced the mooring ropes. Lifting his free hand and pushing forward, a great gust caught the sails of all three boats, launching them forward in the water. He whispered to the wind, and forced the two boats on either side ahead. Already he could feel energy building near the edge of the storm. Thorny branches broke the surface of the water ahead, reaching out like claws to snag the escapees.
Talmer smirked. With a wave of his hands, the wind split, sending each unoccupied boat to a different side. The thorns reacted, splitting to catch the runaway boats. Only a small section remained ahead of his own transport. Instead of trying to dodge, he asked the wind to speed up. Just before he impacted the thorns, he grabbed the heart and pointed it forward. Focusing his will through the heart, Talmer sent hundreds of cutting winds out, with more strength than he’d ever managed on his own. The thorns were chopped to pieces. Seconds later he was through the regent’s barrier, back into the storm.
Grace’s anger at Charles had begun to fade. He had played the regent in a way she didn’t think she could have. If that was his plan all along, she had to admit it was clever and unworthy of her anger. It was a strange feeling to simultaneously want to kiss his stupid face and punch his beautiful smile. She was trying to figure out which desire was stronger when a piercing pain struck her chest. She covered her mouth to stop herself from screaming, and her other hand clenched the front of her dress over her chest. She could feel the blood drain from her face, and looked down at her body. She was genuinely surprised to find no blood flowing from some dagger wound in her heart.
Barclay was the first to notice Grace clutching her chest and swaying on her feet. Taking a quick glance to the regent, who had turned away in thought, he took Grace’s elbow in his left hand and felt her lean heavily into his grasp. He caught her gaze briefly and mouthed, “What’s happening?”
She didn’t know, all truth told. She tried to feel her real body, but the distance and pocket dimension made such a check impossible. She leaned harder on the captain, trying to wipe away her tears before the regent saw. In a moment of weakness she whispered, “Something is terribly wrong.”
The regent reacted immediately, spinning around and glaring at Grace. She held her body still, but he noticed the lack of color in her face. “Are you unwell, child?”
Grace looked Barclay in the eye with determination before pulling away from his grasp and standing tall. “It appears you have much to deliberate,” Grace stated, keeping the tremble from her voice. “It no longer serves a purpose to continue discussions. Your options are plain, as is your offer. Either you will sell us to the Union or provide passage from your island. We will return to the water and await your decision.” Without waiting on a response, Grace began walking down the steps to the lower lounge.
The regent frowned at Grace’s manners, but seemed unable to deny their truth. “I believe,” he called after the ship, “one of your companions should stay behind as collateral.” He eyed Charles like a fine steak dinner.
“That is not necessary,” Grace replied. “As you said, Regent, we have nowhere to go. Now, everyone, we take our leave.” Charles sent a questioning glance to Barclay, who shook his head without emotion. Serin and Leslie took a last uncertain look at the regent before taking quick steps to catch up with Grace. Barclay waited for Charles to follow before falling into step next to him.
The regent watched them go curiously. He opened his mouth briefly to reply, but nothing came out. Grace was sure the regent was put off by her rudeness, but seemingly let it slide. She had the feeling he was too engrossed in the opportunity at hand to really object.
Serin and Leslie had caught up with Grace just as she was crossing the threshold to spiral staircase of gold. They were confused by the sudden change in direction of the discussion, but were aware enough to realize they didn’t want to stick around the regent without Grace. They didn’t expect, just as they lined up on either side of her, that Grace would reach out and squeeze their free hands hard. Her face and body remained proud and rigid as she walked, but the way she held their hands implied a deeper concern beneath the surface.
◆◆◆
Leslie looked behind as she made her way down the staircase. She caught one final glimpse of the regent’s giant back as the stairs twisted away and tried to consider what had happened. The instant the group made it to the landing below, Grace’s legs buckled. She would have tumbled to the ground if not for the iron grip she had on Leslie and Serin. Leslie dropped to one knee, sending her free arm under Grace’s chest to pull her back to her feet. Besides the grip of her hand, however, Grace had gone completely limp and felt like a sleeping child in Leslie’s arms. “What’s wrong?” Leslie cried out.
Grace pinched her eyes closed, managing to force out a soft, “Hurts.”
Serin mirrored Leslie, dropping down and assisting in holding Grace off the ground. “Behemoth! Where does it hurt? We’ve got you.”
“Chest,” Grace hissed.
Leslie crouched down on the bottom step, nodding to Serin. Both women eased Grace into the taller woman’s lap. Leslie repositioned her free hand to Grace’s opposite shoulder, pulling the smaller woman farther into her lap so she could hold that sweet girl’s head in the crook of her neck. Serin leaned forward and tugged the neck of Grace’s dress down low, not caring for privacy at the moment. She craned her neck to get a better look, squinting as she tried to assess the damage. After half a minute searching, she turned desperately to Charles and Barclay. “I can’t see anything wrong,” she stated, voice trembling.
Charles rushed forward, stopping a couple steps above the group. He held up a hand in front of Grace’s chest, keeping his eyes closed in concentration. His palm glowed briefly, but gave out just seconds later. “There’s nothing wrong internally, either,” he declared. Of course, it was a fabricated body, so he could only guess at the parts that looked like fey organs.
“Then what’s going on?” Leslie demanded, worry turning to anger in her voice.
“I don’t know,” Charles admitted.
Barclay was not one to feel much sympathy about pain, perhaps especially after his most recent experience. But there was something about Grace being in pain that gave him a queasy feeling. He deserved whatever came his way, as he was sure Charles did. Even the bonded, if hurt, were likely to have been the cause of their own problems. But Grace? People that kind shouldn’t have to suffer. Barclay’s own thoughts on the matter were grasping for anything. Why would she be in such terrible pain if there was nothing wrong with her body? She was too strong to succumb to any old spell, and he was sure Charles would have found one. The only other thing that might matter… “It’s not this body, it’s the ship,” he
offered, realizing the truth as he spoke it.
“Of course,” Charles replied, angry at himself for missing what should have been obvious.
“But why?” Serin asked. “You don’t think the regent had her attacked once he knew we were gone?” she wondered aloud.
“No,” Barclay decided. “If the regent wanted to hurt her, he would have done it right away.”
“Could the rest of the Union have caught up with us?” Leslie offered.
“The union lets the regent handle his own business. If they didn’t already know where we were, they couldn’t have found us through the pocket,” Barclay declared.
Charles’s body froze as he began to understand. He caught the captain’s eye and both shared a dark look. “Talmer,” Charles spoke, low and dangerously.
“What did Talmer do?” Serin asked seriously, a spark at hearing that name igniting a well of fire behind her eyes.
“I don’t know,” Charles admitted, “but we need to get back to the ship. Now.”
Leslie didn’t need to hear anything else. Prying her hand from Grace’s grip, she slipped one under the girl’s knees and the other behind her back. She stood quickly, pulling Serin with her. She nodded at Charles and Barclay before lowering to a crouch. She quirked an eyebrow at Serin, who seemed reluctant to move. With a look that begat no compromise, she stated, “You are too slow on your own.”
Serin wanted to protest, but couldn’t honestly disagree. With Grace’s hand still in her own, Serin climbed on Leslie’s back, clenching her free arm and knees around the taller woman as tight as she could. Without another word, Leslie opened the gates to her power and practically flew around the great dragon palace. Barclay grabbed Charles and let loose his own power to follow.
Leslie couldn’t see the ship through the pocket dimension, but she didn’t have to. A long wooden walkway still stretched out to open space, giving her a bright shining arrow in the right direction. She knew a sudden stop at these speeds wouldn’t do well for Grace or Serin, and so began to slow before leaping from the land. She bit the inside of her lip, enough to draw blood, and spit a velvet drop forward like a bullet. The instant she passed through the pocket dimension, she saw the deck of the ship fill her vision. She barely had time to react before her feet hit the deck. She tried to cushion their horizontal momentum as best as she could, but allowed all three to careen forward. Right where her blood had hit, a massive flower was expanding. Leslie pivoted so, unfortunately, Serin would take the brunt of the impact. The soft flower petals gave way from the force, but quickly brought them all to a more pleasant stop.
Leslie moved forward again, pulling her weight off Serin, who was now wedged in a heap of petals. She licked another drop of blood from her lip and spit it on the flower, which proceeded to shrivel as fast as it grew. Looking down to Grace, she noticed the smaller woman’s face was no longer contorted in pain. “Are you okay now?” Leslie asked.
Grace cupped her hands over her chest. “The pain is much less now,” she began, “but I still feel…empty.”
“What can we do?” Serin chimed in, ignoring the dried petal pieces on her clothes.
“I don’t know, I…” Grace trailed off and all color drained from her face. “No,” she whispered, “he wouldn’t.”
“What happened?” Serin now demanded, her anger nearly palpable.
“Please,” Graced pleaded, “take me to the kitchen.”
Leslie shared a look of concern with Serin before nodding. “Sure, I’ll take you.” Leslie held Grace close as she walked across the main deck and around the corner.
Serin waited for Grace to be out of sight before she let out her frustration in a sharp hissing breath. Her skin darkened and her veins began to glow red. She closed her eyes, using every ounce of her focus to scan the ship for signs of magic presence. She felt the converts below like tiny blips. She felt Leslie and Grace like warm lights. But nothing else. Unless Talmer had miraculously tossed out his ego and learned how to hide is power, he wasn’t on the ship. Serin still didn’t know what was wrong, but she knew somehow that fact did not bode well.
Barclay and Charles reached the ship and skidded to a stop in front of a clearly livid Serin. Barclay called her from her thoughts. “Where’s Grace? What’s happening?”
“She had Leslie take her to the kitchen. I don’t know yet what happened, but she seems a little better now.” She paused, making one last sweep as best she could. “Talmer’s either not on board or hiding his power with outstanding precision.”
Barclay turned to Charles, his posture radiating authority. “We need to know. You and Serin split up, visual inspection of every cabin. If anyone finds him, you signal the others.” Turning back to address Serin, he added, “I don’t care what happens to Talmer, just find him. I’ll be back in five minutes. We meet at Grace.”
The three split up, Serin heading toward the cabins on the left, Charles toward the cabins on the right, and Barclay leaping off the ship altogether. The queasy feeling in Barclay’s stomach only grew. Talmer wasn’t clever enough to have played them so thoroughly. The captain was already certain Talmer was no longer on the ship. Whatever he had done, it wasn’t just an accident. Grace was too forgiving, and Talmer knew it. To have run like this meant he had done something intentional and unforgivable.
Barclay raced back and forth along the docks, looking for any sign of Talmer. Even a footprint would have been enough. But there was nothing. He stretched his senses to their limit, but couldn’t feel anything inland. Alignak’s rage was still confusing his senses in the storm. He wished he could dive into the water; he wanted to believe his senses then would be strong enough to look farther. But he couldn’t. With the Entregon practically on their doorstep, there’s no way he wouldn’t be found. He scanned the shoreline with his eyes, finding little out of the ordinary. Except, he distinctly remembered a cluster of three white boats that were now missing.
Racing to the small wood pier where he remembered the boats had been docked, he found three mooring ropes still tied down. It was obvious already, but he pulled the ends of each rope from the water, frustratingly unsurprised to find each end cleanly sliced and stinking of magic. Barclay stepped to the far end of the pier, staring at the calm waters hard. He whispered words and concentrated magic around his eyes. His eyes bulged out slightly, his pupils becoming magnified. He stared at the water again, the spell allowing his vision to pierce the dark barrier of the surface. He continued to search the bottom as if he were physically there. Two sailboats laid on the lake floor, torn and smashed to pieces, but unmistakably painted white. He searched and searched around the lake floor, but no third boat could be found.
Cursing under his breath, Barclay released the spell around his eyes and began running back to the ship. He’d taken a little more than five minutes, and the entire ship felt empty as he ran aboard. He made his way across the deck and into the dining area. He paused just outside the kitchen door as he heard sobs from inside. Preparing himself mentally, he pushed through the swinging door.
The first thing Barclay noticed was that the oven doors were both broken, and the space in between had been torn down the middle violently. Next, he saw Charles staring inside with wide eyes and his mouth set in a fine line. Turning, he found Grace sitting on the ground, hands over her face and crying. Her body racked with sobs, and each time, Serin and Leslie would whisper soothing words in her ears. The bonded were kneeling on either side of Grace, arms wrapped around her shoulders and foreheads pressed to her hair. They weren’t loud, but he could tell they were crying, as well.
Charles suddenly turned from the ovens and crying women, marching toward the swinging door. Barclay caught the younger man’s arms as he tried to walk passed. “Where do you think you’re going?” Barclay asked.
Charles froze. He wasn’t even sure he was breathing. His mind couldn’t process everything, and it was like his emotions were getting stuck in the door as they each tried to escape at once. He turned just enough to see the cap
tain from the corner of his vision. With no emotion in his voice, Charles found himself stating, “I’m going to kill him.” He tried to shrug off the older man’s grip, but Barclay held firm.
“What happened?” Barclay demanded.
Confusion flitted across Charles’s face. He couldn’t remember a time before he heard the news. The stern command in the captain’s voice helped clear the cobwebs. The captain didn’t yet know. “He stole her heart,” Charles answered, staring into the captain’s eyes.
Barclay was taken aback when he saw the glistening of tears in Charles’s eyes. He knew what that statement meant, and found himself at a loss for words. He unintentionally loosened his grasp on the younger man and Charles pulled away. Realizing Charles was not truly thinking, he grabbed the younger man again. “Stop,” he ordered.
Charles obeyed, but did not turn around. “Why,” he asked, and hint of a threat lurked within that single word.
“He’s already gone,” Barclay replied. “Stole a boat, and from the looks of it managed to get out into the lake.”
“So?” Charles questioned. His body had begun to tremble, and he wasn’t sure what emotion was going to get out first.
“So there’s nothing you can do,” Barclay answered calmly.
Charles snapped. Rounding on the captain, he grabbed the front of the older man’s shirt in both hands and pushed him into the closest wall. “Don’t tell me that!” Charles screamed. “I’ll swim after him if I have to. I’ll tear him limb from limb before I drown him in that damn lake!”
Barclay let the man say his piece before cocking his fist back and slugging him. Charles stumbled to the side and Barclay followed with a swift kick to the stomach, throwing Charles across the narrow room. Barclay loomed over the younger man, waiting for him to catch his breath. “You just told me she lost her heart. I just told you it’s gone. Pull yourself together.” He waited for Charles to look up before pointing at the group huddled around the other end of the room. “Without her heart, you know what’s going to happen. I suggest you take their lead.”
