Spirit of the Sea

by Keith Walter

  The captain stared and stared before finally declaring, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “You’re right. But I’m alive, and she’s alive. Right now, let’s just work with that,” Charles pleaded.

  “It’s not that crazy,” Leslie chimed in. She smiled at Serin. “Did we not expect to see them on the other side? Perhaps Behemoth decided they still had growing to do.”

  “See,” Charles emphasized, though entirely confused, “not crazy. Now let’s get moving.”

  Barclay was unconvinced, but ignored it for now. “Get moving where exactly?”

  Charles smirked. “To Grace, of course.” He turned and started a slow jog back to the water, ushering the rest of the coverts to follow.

  Captain and crew exchanged bewildered glances. Grace, as far as they could see from this distance, was just the back third of a ship. But it was a little late to consider their options logically. The entire crew started into a run, catching up with Charles quickly. And before their eyes, still glued to Grace’s form, they saw that rear end of a ship stretch and warp. Wood and steel burst forth from the shattered end, drawing a new deck and hull and bridge. Mouths gaped in awe, but turned quickly when Charles face planted into the sand.

  Serin and Leslie skidded to a stop, watching Charles pull himself from the sand with exasperation. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he replied through labored breaths. “Turns out that whole ship-building business takes a lot out of you.” He pulled himself back to his feet, shaking the light-headedness from his thoughts. “I told you, I’m not entirely sure how this works. I’m guessing it’s the same for Grace. We’re going to have to work on that.”

  “This is insane,” Serin stated, more to herself than Charles. Without another word, she followed the captain, who hadn’t bothered to stop. Charles was at her side almost instantaneously, grinning like an idiot. Serin purposely ignored him, focusing on the strange ship taking shape offshore.

  Grace was peeved, to say the least, but refused to let that frustration cloud her thoughts. When she began recreating her form, she had already planned for the crew. As what remained of her former glory grew and weaved together, she let a small piece break off. If she were exactly as before, that would have been impossible. The ship was her true body, and whatever was taken away or broken off was simply gone to her. Now, her true body was flesh and blood. The ship was still linked, but it was only the manifestation.

  That small section of wood and steel floated expectantly on the surface at Grace’s command. Once the hull and single deck of Grace’s work was completed, she turned her attention to that piece. She tapped her chin three times, considering what exactly she wanted. Time was in short supply, but there was no reason to be wasteful. A simple, functional design would be sufficient. Her mind made up, the broken section flattened, stretching long and wide. The edges curled up and in a short while a deck raised above the hollow hull. It was a simple schooner, no sail. Grace nodded at her handiwork before waving her hand toward the shore. The schooner, eager to please, shot across the water before beaching itself in front of the still-jogging crew.

  “Wow,” Leslie cried. “That’s new.”

  Barclay slid to stop, digging his heels into the sand and kicking up a sizable mound. Before the rest of the crew caught up, he stamped the mound, dropping in a little of his magic. The mound solidified into a perfect set of steps to the bow of the schooner. “I’m not complaining,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Let’s go.” Barclay waited for everyone to catch up and climb aboard. He felt a little silly waiting for Charles, but it had been only minutes since he thought himself completely responsible for the safety of these fey.

  “Believe me now?” Charles asked cheekily.

  “Shut up and get on,” Barclay answered gruffly. Charles complied with a laugh, and the captain leapt aboard. Calling on his own connection to the sea, a wave surged around the schooner and pulled it from the sand. Barclay swung one arm dramatically, and the schooner reoriented with its bow pointed at Grace. Pressing both hands forward, Barclay commanded the group across the water. As the ship and crew approached Grace, Barclay felt Charles put a hand on his forearm.

  “She says she has a plan,” Charles said, with a thousand-yard stare in his eyes. “Let her take it from here.”

  No sooner had Barclay relinquished his hold on the sea than water swelled beneath the ship like a balloon. The water stood upright and, with a sudden decline, slid the entire schooner onto Grace’s deck. The transition didn’t jostle. The schooner slid along Grace’s deck like a train car on open tracks. As the crew braced for whatever came next, they found themselves lowered and the schooner melted right into Grace. The rail around them grew upward and pulled away. In moments, the schooner wasn’t a schooner at all, but a new bridge on a new ship, almost nothing like the cruise liner Grace had been before.

  A door opened to the right, revealing Grace looking positively angelic as the morning sun filtered around her.

  “Hi,” she offered, smiling like the sun.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:

  The Entregon

  Grace!” Serin shouted, striding purposefully forward and wrapping the woman in her arms. She had already seen Grace onshore, holding off the Entregon. But here, feeling the woman with her own hands, she could finally believe that it wasn’t some fever dream. “I was afraid we’d never see you again,” she whispered.

  “Me, too,” Grace admitted softly. Serin let go and took a step back, seeing the changes that had taken place. Grace held out a hand to her left, and Charles seemed to appear. They beheld each other with knowing smiles and Grace addressed the crew. “We’re leaving, but it’s not going to be easy. The Union will never stop hunting us now. My only promise is that we will get through it all…together.”

  Serin and Leslie clapped excitedly. Barclay, however, could only think about the elephant in the room. “What about your mother?”

  Grace’s eyes darkened. “I’ll deal with her,” she declared.

  “We’ll deal with her,” Charles corrected. Noticing Grace had gone silent, he added, “We need everybody to stay inside, right here, for the time being. You might not be able to tell, but this is the most reinforced place on the ship.” He rapped his knuckles on the wall, which lit up with runes.

  “So we’re just going to sit here again while you do all the work? What if you need help?” Barclay asked, clearly displeased.

  Charles grinned wide, giving the captain a wink. “Sorry, Captain, you’re going to have to count on your crew for this one. Have a little faith.” He stepped through the doorway, pulling Grace with him. He inclined his head toward Serin and Leslie. “I’m sure they can help you out with that.” He closed and locked the door with a chuckle.

  With the crew reassured and out of earshot, Grace found a voice for her concerns. “She’s not going to let us go.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Charles admitted.

  “She’s going to fight, and I don’t know if I can beat her,” Grace whispered.

  Charles squeezed Grace’s hand to reassure her. “She’s not invincible. And you won’t be doing it alone.”

  “You don’t understand,” Grace stated, suddenly frightened. “Everything you know about her, true as it might be, is outdated. She’s going to be stronger than any story you’ve ever heard.”

  “What are you saying?” Charles asked curiously. “She’s still fey, not one of the Ancients.”

  “She’s more than that now.”

  Charles wanted to ask, but Grace seemed too upset to really talk. The only thing that had changed since he last saw the Entregon was… “She’s using your heart.”

  “Yes,” Grace admitted sadly. “The general will be no comparison to what she can do.”

  “So what?” Charles asked brazenly. Grace gaped, seemingly confused by the question. “We’re not giving up, right?”

  “No,” Grace squeaked.

  “Then it doesn’t matter. She could be twice as strong
as she was, ten times stronger than Kene, but it doesn’t matter.” Charles leveled her with his eyes. “If she wants a fight, she’ll get one. I’ve fought monsters stronger than me before, and I never walked in intending to lose.”

  “I’m not…” Grace caught herself. That’s exactly what she was doing. Part of her still couldn’t fathom fighting her mother. But there was no other way. Giving up now would cost others their lives. She squeezed her hands until her knuckles turned white and her nails began digging into the skin of her palm. Her mother didn’t think she could change, and she had no choice but to prove that thought wrong. “You’re right,” she said, relaxing. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll do what needs to be done, and we’ll win.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Charles encouraged before pulling Grace in close and dropping a kiss on her nose.

  Grace was sure kisses would never fail to bring a smile to her face. With determination in her heart, she pulled away and walked to the bow, Charles in tow. Staring across the water, she pushed her thoughts ahead. “I’m coming, Mother.”

  The ship turned toward the Entregon and its color began to fade. The perfect whites of the walls and grains of the wooden deck boards all took on a gray color as there were replaced with thick metal armor. Grace’s shields grew thicker, as well. Typically they would only appear when stopping an impact, but now a honeycomb of what looked like glass encircled her. The light danced and reflected off the magic, creating rainbows and shimmers over the gray deck.

  The Entregon spun in place and took a sharp angle. Immediately, her guns opened fire, explosions lighting up as they impacted the shields. Charles’s skin began to shimmer like the shields as he reached down and pulled at his energy, pushing it into his muscles.

  “You seem to be getting the hang of whatever this is,” Charles whispered to Grace as he walked to the front of the ship.

  “The breadth of our power is not far from what I know, but the depth is another matter entirely,” She replied trying to verbalize the differences.

  “What do you think about me using some magic?” he asked, shaking out his arms and legs.

  “What I have been doing so far is trying to match what your body instinctively needs,” Grace muttered, lost in thought. “It is difficult to manage things on many sides at once. I suggest whatever you do, you do so efficiently. With my mother, you cannot make a mistake.” The ship rocked with the latest volley from the Entregon.

  “Got it,” he said as he turned and dropped a quick peck on her lips. “Let’s show her what we can do.” With that, he launched himself into the air.

  When Charles reached high enough above the explosions, the two boats were almost on top of each other. He could clearly see Grace’s mother standing on the deck with her arms folded. She hadn’t bothered to raise her shields over the dark black steel hull. Flashes of magic lit up the morning like fireworks, and Charles was briefly transported to the past. He could feel the heat in his chest and the thrill in the morning air. Strangely enough, there was none of the anger or passion that had always accompanied him in his former battles. Now it was simply a resolve about what had to be done to protect those he cared for.

  His senses sharpened and the world around him slowed. The weight of his body floated away as it was replaced with a constant surge of energy. In the past, he would often waste magic with crude spellcraft and unfocused defenses. Grace was far more collected, providing much more precise bursts and charges to everything he did. She was worried about efficiency, and it made him smile. It had taken nearly dying for him to get even close to as smart as Grace was naturally.

  High in the air, wispy runes floated out in front of him forming a moving circle about three feet wide. The circle began to pulse at the same rhythm as himself, and he poured energy into the magic. He saw the Entregon’s guns move from Grace to himself and he knew he had the attention he was looking for. Before the guns could let loose, the runes spun in the air, blurring together in a windy vortex. Charles lined up like a boxer and the familiar rush of energy raced from his core to the tip of his fist as he hit the runes.

  A tempest sped through the air in front of him. Terrible winds cut as they raced toward the enemy ship. The Entregon’s guns barked at Charles, but the magic bolts were engulfed by the windstorm. The enemy rocked back and forth as the winds cut at the steel of her hull. Moments later, shields raised and pushed back the magic.

  “I am glad I could get your attention,” Charles yelled down to her. His ankle let out a burst of magic, propelling him to the side and avoiding a second blast from her guns. He reached back, and the spells pulled in around his left hand. There they lazily spun around his wrist as he flew through the air looking for a better vantage point.

  Grace saw her mother change targets and sprang into action. All throttle went in reverse and the sea around her began to freeze. Within seconds, large chunks of ice covered with dull runes began floating in her wake. As one, the ice pulled down like a turtle startled into its shell. Just the very tips of the tiny icebergs could be seen.

  She heard another woosh from overhead as Charles let out a second burst of his tempest magic. She knew her mother, and this was far from her peak. They were going to need a better plan than just hit and run. Even with her doubts, she could feel Charles’s confidence and determination. The focus calmed and reinvigorated her.

  With the steady stream of ice flowing outward, she began to hear whispers of ideas and plans that she knew couldn’t be her own. Whatever her new relationship was with Charles, it seemed to flow in odd ways. She could sense that he was trying to figure something out, some sort of strategy to use against her mother. He kept coming back to the picture he had in his mind of Grace on the bottom of the lake, but something was different than she remembered. A light flashed in her mind and it occurred to her that it might just work. It was going to push this new power further than she was comfortable, but it might just work.

  Charles was just barely dodging the Entregon’s attacks, focusing his attention on flying and throwing magic any chance he had. The tempest spell had been one of his favorites, simple to craft but capable of blasts as powerful as the wielder. It could be used short range, and even a noble would not want to take a blast head on. He was still a little disappointed, though perhaps not surprised, when the Entregon shrugged it off with her shields.

  When he saw Grace start to reverse and lay down the icy minefield, he was relieved. Even if their tactics were a little crude, any extra moment they could buy themselves was more time to figure out a plan. He had been rolling an idea around in his head, not sure what to make of it. It was certainly out of the box, and he wasn’t sure the premise was even right. A few more shots from his tempest kept the Entregon’s attention where he wanted it, until a strange feeling shot through his head. It was Grace: she liked his idea, but had some improvements.

  Grace drove in a winding circle below, and he tried to keep her mother’s attention. Only too late, he realized that only half of the Entregon’s guns were focused on him now. The aft guns targeted Grace and shots rang out. Charles instinctively moved to intercept, not wanting Grace distracted from the plan, and he nearly missed the red orbs that flew from the warship’s deck. He adjusted his course, but the orbs followed. “And we have moved to tracking spells,” Charles muttered. He was forced to dive straight down to avoid being cooked. “This is not going to be fun at all,” he sighed as the orbs turned on him again. He had no choice but to hit the water at high speed if he wanted any chance of throwing them off.

  First among the problems with the plan was Grace having to turn around the Entregon. She knew that giving her mother any more of her broadside could end in disaster. She could see her mother’s attention was split, focusing more on Charles. But that didn’t make her feel better about the volley of magic fire that slammed into her shields. Small cracks appeared in her honeycomb defenses, and she was forced to slow down and push more energy to one side. Her shield held, but she could feel each volley increase in power.r />
  She could feel Charles still fighting off attacks under the water, so it was a race against time to get in position while her shields still held. Focusing her thoughts, Grace began inscribing layers of runes on her new anchor in preparation for the trap. Suddenly she felt a deep pull on their shared magic from Charles. Her shields flickered briefly, but it was enough. A volley broke through and impacted her deck. Metal screamed and a deafening explosion followed. In terror, Grace quickly tried to assess the damage and see if anyone was hurt. The magic her mother was using burned, and the resulting smoke confused her senses. For a moment, she thought the worst, but a familiar voice bellowed through the smoke.

  “You focus on taking her down!” Barclay shouted. “We’ll take care of clean up.”

  She felt the soothing lake water begin to cool the flames. Energy returned and she brought the shields back up just in time for the next attack. Looking across the water, she could see Charles had just broken the water’s surface, and the Entregon was closing in. He was alive, but moving slow.

  Charles had avoided most of the homing magic, but not all. When he dove into the water, he had been right that the red fire on his tail would be weakened and slowed. Once he had the space, he’d crafted lances of ice that pierced and dissipated the fire. He should have known better, thinking to outsmart a fey ship in the water. The moment the orbs of fire extinguished, he felt a massive build-up of magic behind. It was pure instinct when he pushed as much raw energy as he could muster to blunt the scalding explosion of a water bomb. He was still thrown deep into the water, but he survived. It was definitely not the most efficient way to defend himself, but he thought it was pretty well played. That was, until he felt the panic from Grace.