by Keith Walter
“It was you,” the regent realized softly. “You are the weapon that ended the war.”
“Kind of,” Charles admitted. “See, despite all that practicing, it ended up being too much. The Ancient One was still just as strong as I was, and my body was barely able to hold all that power inside. I started losing, and that just wasn’t an option. If I didn’t make it, there wasn’t another plan. So I got reckless. I decided I would end it all in one attack, even if it killed me. As you see me here today, you know that it didn’t. But—” Charles pulled the neck of his shirt down low, showing off the deep black scar on his chest “—the Ancient had gotten in a few good hits already, and those didn’t like to heal. When I blasted that thing the last time, my magic was going haywire and it started tearing out of me. This scar doesn’t really do justice to the mangle of flesh inside. The whole thing blew out my heart.” He eyed the regent seriously. “I was the weapon. I ended the war. I’m not capable of being that again. My body is in a constant state of repair just to stay alive. If I even let my normal power out fully, it’d tear me in half explosively.”
“This is not what you promised,” the regent started. “The weapon is gone.”
“If you remember, I offered you my story. When we spoke in your palace, I told you I did not have the weapon, which is true. I also told you I know where the weapon is, which is also true. I am one piece of the weapon, and the rest is gone.” Charles watched the regent begin to pace in agitation. He wondered if the giant intended to follow through on his bargain. “You are a man of your word,” he called.
The regent stopped his pacing. Turning, he stepped in front of Charles, puffing up his chest and towering over the young man. “I am,” he stated, his words low and threatening. Glancing at Grace, the regent relaxed. “That was a dangerous game to play,” he chided the noble ship, “all for the sake of your crew.”
“There is nothing more important than my family,” Grace replied.
A smile played across the giant’s face, and he took two polite steps backward. “You are truly entertaining, young Grace.” He gave a low bow to Grace, one hand flat against his waist. Addressing Charles darkly, he stated, “I will keep my end of our bargain, General, but now I must prepare.” He offered one last apologetic smile to Grace. “One of mine will be here shortly to collect your crew. They will be off the island before the Union comes to collect you. I suggest you say your goodbyes.”
Grace closed the space between herself and the regent. She rested her tiny hand on the regent’s own oversized knuckles. “Thank you for this. I will never forget your kindness.”
The regent nodded, an indecipherable expression in his eyes. Slowly, he pulled his hand away from Grace, did an about-face, and walked back to the pier. Grace waited until he had fully crossed the veil of the Alter Key before she let out a long breath, her body relaxing slowly. There was still an uncomfortable pain in her chest, and she held a tiny fist to her sternum trying to rub it away. When she turned around, she was grateful to find Charles already at her side. His arms opened in welcome, and she allowed him to pull her body close.
“I’m sorry,” Charles offered. “I know I promised not to do that anymore.”
“For once,” she replied, “I think it was the right thing to do. I wish I could have saved you, too.”
“You already have,” Charles admitted, burying his face in her hair. “Until the very end, I need you to understand that. There are worse things than death, like a life without meaning or love. You’ve given me those things. I am better off now than I have been the entirety of my miserable life.” He squeezed her arms tight, trying to physically impress that truth upon her.
“I believe you,” Grace replied sincerely. She nuzzled her face into the taller man’s chest before stepping back. “There’s little time now. We should gather everyone.”
Charles nodded. “Yeah, I’ll go get the captain. I’m sure Serin and Leslie will want to talk to the rest of their family.”
Grace tapped her chin, eyebrows raising in realization. “They will need supplies, won’t they?”
“Don’t exert yourself,” Charles admonished. “They have the clothes on their backs and that’s all they need.”
Grace stared down the man at her side, finding an equally determined gaze staring back. She relented first, looking down but not dissuaded. “It won’t take much. I just want them to have a change of clothes and maybe a poncho, we don’t know where they’ll end up. Besides—” and there she pierced Charles with a somber glance “—what good does it do me to hoard it all now?”
Charles looked away, fearing a fresh set of tears. There was a click in his mind and he suddenly returned the gaze fully, noting a teasing smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “That was unnecessary,” he stated, “I wasn’t going to stop you. I just don’t want you to have to hurt any worse than you already do.”
“I’ll be fine,” she retorted. “I promise.”
“Good,” Charles replied, already looking toward the dining room. “I’ll…go let them know then.” He strode off, reaching a brisk pace despite the lead weights he felt like he was wearing. He wanted to slow down the entire world, giving Grace as much time as possible, but he couldn’t. Dragging his feet now would only be wasting what time she had left.
A few minutes later, Grace smiled sadly when Charles emerged from the dining hall with the captain close behind. Barclay looked stoic as ever, but Grace felt she was beginning to figure out the subtle nuance of his moods. The way his steps hit her deck heavier than normal spoke of his anger and frustration. The way he purposely avoided her gaze told how uncomfortable he was. And knowing the kinds of feelings that made him uncomfortable, she realized he was sad.
Charles closed in quickly, wrapping his arms around Grace’s waist and setting up as a permanent pillar at her side. Barclay remained several steps away, unsure how to feel about the news he’d been given. He squeezed his fists until he felt his nails beginning to cut the skin beneath. “Sorry never did anybody a lick of good,” he choked out, “but I wish there was another way.”
Grace smiled sadly. Just like the captain, she thought. Where she was sure Leslie, Serin, and the converts were lamenting and hoping for a miracle, the captain was already accepting fate. She held out a hand and waited patiently for the captain to shuffle forward enough for her to touch his arm. “I know,” she replied, looking through his stony facade. “Despite everything that’s happened, I’ve felt happiness sailing with you.”
Barclay shook his head dismissively. “You don’t deserve this, kid.” His eyes took on a fierce glow as he couldn’t hold in his frustration anymore. “I knew Talmer was a liability. It was my responsibility to keep him in line.”
“It’s no one’s fault,” Grace offered kindly. “You’ve done everything you could to get all of us through.”
The captain shuffled his feet uncomfortably, looking away before he spoke. “You might not have the constitution of a soldier,” Barclay admitted, “but you’ll always have the heart of one.”
New tears welled up in her eyes. “Thank you, Captain.”
Charles tightened his hold on Grace and faced the captain. “You know, you’re all leaving me, too.”
Barclay huffed, catching the younger man’s gaze. “Yeah, but you might actually deserve it.” Grace gasped, but the captain paid no mind. He narrowed his eyes at Charles’s smirk, realizing he’d said exactly what Charles was hoping for. “Don’t pay too much mind to it, Gracie. Charles here is military. When two men of uniform meet in trying circumstances, we accept at the start that the other might not make it out.”
“Admit it, old man, you’re going to miss me, too,” Charles prodded, trying to lighten the captain’s somber mood.
Barclay stuck a finger in Charles’s chest as if to start a tirade, but dropped his hand quickly. “Charles, you’ve been a real pain in the ass since I met you,” he began. “You’re a depressing little shit. You’re selfish, and you don’t deserve the girl at your side.”
His mouth quirked up when Charles’s smirk fell away. “But you’re also pretty useful when you want to be, and you’ve looked out for this crew when needed. I’m not going to miss having to worry about whatever dumb plan you come up with next, but you’ve proven you’re worth keeping around.”
Charles let go of Grace with one hand, surprised to find Barclay offering a handshake. “Not exactly glowing praise,” Charles replied, grabbing Barclay’s hand. “But from you, I’ll take it.”
As the single firm shake ended, Grace grew serious. “Captain, I do not want to impose, but may I ask a favor of you after you leave this ship?”
“You don’t have to,” Barclay replied smoothly. He locked eyes with Grace. “I already know what you’re going to say, and I would have done it anyway. I may not be able to do anything for you, but land or sea, those kids are still my crew. I’ll keep ’em safe.”
Grace dropped her head, body relaxing as a weight seemed to lift. “Thank you again, Captain.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Barclay admitted. Before Grace could protest, he held up a hand. “Really.”
Silence fell over the trio. Barclay moved away from the embracing couple, staring into Wolfe Island for any signs of movement. Charles and Grace seemed content to lean on one another as they waited for everyone else to arrive. As the minutes passed, Barclay grew more focused, eyes jumping around to capture every leaf blowing in the wind. Grace squeezed Charles, growing worried the crew wouldn’t be finished packing before their escorts arrived. Finally, Barclay slapped his hands on the railing. “Charles, get them up here.”
Charles eyed Grace, who gave an apologetic nod. “Is the regent back?” he asked across the deck.
“Something’s coming down the lane,” Barclay answered. “I doubt the regent will come to pick us up himself, but it won’t be smart to make his people wait.”
“Got it,” Charles acknowledged, sliding himself from Grace’s grasp. “I’ll be back shortly.” Once he was clear of Grace, he dashed toward the lower decks and out of sight.
“He’ll get them,” Grace stated to herself.
“If you still want to try and run…” Barclay trailed off, caught by his own suggestion.
Grace closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She smiled, but it couldn’t hold the light her face used to. It was sad, resigned. “No, I think I’m too tired to run.”
Barclay was spellbound by the honesty in her voice. It occurred to him she was not as well off as her calming expression led on. “How bad is it?” he found himself asking, taking unbidden steps closer to Grace.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore, not really,” she replied. “But I can’t feel it.” She pointed toward the water.
Barclay understood in a way he realized Charles couldn’t. He remembered the times when he had no choice but to follow orders deep inland. He remembered the way he’d wake up in the middle of the night, nothing wrong but a cold numbing sensation deep in his bones. The feeling that every night was too short, every day too long.
He was nothing compared to Grace. He knew that. He could only imagine how much worse it must be for her. Without thinking, he moved forward and wrapped his own arms around her, an act he hadn’t taken since he was a child himself. “I wish I could have done something differently,” he whispered.
“I know,” she stated, sure and understanding.
The idea sprung into his head, and almost as quickly he leaned back and tried to drink in the power of the sea. He squeezed her tightly and tried to push everything the sea gave into her through his arms. He wasn’t sure it had worked at all until he felt her relax, letting her own hug go and softly touching his arms.
His body could only process so much at a time, and he found pushing the sea into another couldn’t be kept up long. The magic faded away, and he realized he was still embracing the young woman. He let go and took a sharp step back, trying desperately to build the mask of apathy he normally wore. When he heard Grace giggle, he knew it was a lost cause. “Don’t, uh, tell Charles I did that, yeah?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t let him think you’ve gone soft,” she answered, a much brighter smile on her face now. “Thank you for that.”
Barclay heard footsteps coming around the corner and shuffled quickly back to the railing. “You’re welcome,” he replied gruffly.
By the time Charles slid his arms around Grace once again, he could feel the tension coming off the old fey. “What’d I miss?” he asked Grace.
“Where are the others?” Barclay demanded, refusing to turn around.
“Right behind me,” Charles replied.
As if waiting for their cue, men and women began spilling out from around the dining area. Barclay couldn’t recognize any of them, as each was covered in a thick robe with a heavy hood. The hood covered their faces completely, and they were forced to stare down at the deck to keep track of where they were going. The captain was confused until he noticed a quaint pattern sewn over the left breast of each robe. He recognized the unnatural shimmer when it touched the moonlight.
“That do what I think it does?” he asked, impressed.
“Yes, um,” Grace stuttered. “I thought it would be terribly uncomfortable for them to try to hide under blankets and layers. This way they can walk in the moonlight without fear of changing.”
“As long as they don’t get too much direct exposure, you mean,” Charles added.
“Well, right, the primary deterrent is still staying covered,” Grace admitted.
Charles smiled at the woman in his arms. “When you said you wanted to make supplies, I thought you just meant a change of clothes and a backpack.” He laughed lightly when Grace’s eyes opened wide like she’d been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. He ran a hand up and down her arm as if to warm her. “You should have told me. This is the kind of thing I could have helped with.”
“Oh!” Grace squeaked, realizing how true that statement was. “I didn’t even think of that.”
Charles laughed again. “Yeah, but you’ve done fine work on your own.” Looking over the converts, Charles caught sight of Leslie striding around the corner. “This everyone?” he called out.
Leslie caught his eyes over the heads of the gathering crowd. “All accounted for.” She suddenly felt her hand pulled through the crowd. Noticing the confused look on Charles’s face, she had the distinct impression she looked like a fin sticking out of the water warning of an approaching shark. She smirked to herself thinking how much her love would hate such a comparison.
“I don’t like this,” Serin stated seriously when she emerged from the crowd.
“Neither of us do,” Leslie added.
“You’d rather stay with us?” Charles asked sarcastically. Both women responded with unamused frowns. “In all seriousness, you should be happy.”
“Happy?” Serin seethed. “We should be happy that Grace is getting turned over to her bitch of a mom? We should be happy that our friend, you—” her eyes dared Charles to argue “—is going to be imprisoned or executed?”
Grace reached out a hand, letting her fingers rest on Serin’s tense shoulder. “I understand your anger.” Serin couldn’t help but relax under Grace’s gaze. “I would have loved to stay with all of you. But this way,” she said, taking in a sharp breath, “at least you all can be safe.”
“This was the plan all along,” Charles stated. “Not exactly,” he added quickly, “but not entirely off. Back in Erie, we were going to head off on our own while Grace and the captain found their way. This time, you get the captain on your team.” He gazed at the captain’s back briefly before acknowledging, “I’d say you upgraded.”
Leslie stepped forward swiftly and wrapped her arms around Charles’s neck. He hadn’t expected that, and stiffly let it happen. “I’d say he has a lot to live up to,” she offered.
Charles slid his left arms out to return the hug. “Thanks,” he choked out.
Serin, overcome with emotion, moved in and wrapped her arms
around Grace. Roughly, she pulled Grace away from Charles so she could steal the woman’s entire attention. “You’ve been too good to us,” she admitted. “And now we really won’t ever have the chance to pay you back.”
“Getting to know you has been payment enough,” Grace declared, returning the embrace fully.
A small hand pulled on Graces arm, jerking her attention away. Looking down, she recognized one of the small convert children holding a small bear. The little girl happily handed it to Grace and gave her a brief hug. “I didn’t want you to be sad with us leaving again,” the child proclaimed. “So I’ll let you hold on to teddy until I come back.”
Grace was saved further tears by the sound of the captain’s voice. “They’re here,” Barclay announced loudly.
Five pairs of eyes stared down the walkway to the dock, where a single fey had dismounted from an ornate carriage. It was a woman—tall, though not so tall as Leslie. Her skin and hair were a matching obsidian. It contrasted perfectly with the white silk dress and shimmering gold lace covering her body. Her chest was covered in a skin-tight top lined with golden trim at every seam. Her midriff was bare but for gold netting outlining the curves of her sides. From the waist down she appeared to be surrounded by flowing strips of white. Though no breeze blew, each strip danced and swayed with her steps. Long dark legs emerged in fleeting glimpses, always enticing the eye for more but never revealing fully.
