Spirit of the Sea

by Keith Walter

  Barclay spun on his heels, staring bewildered at Grace. For the first time, he noticed the cannon standing on the deck. He saw the melted metal of the barrel and followed its aim with his eyes to the entirely missing section of their enemy. “Damn,” he breathed, unsure what to do with that information.

  Leslie pulled her hand back as if burned, something she realized immediately was an unfair reaction. Grace saw the motion and turned away, causing Leslie to tear up herself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m sure…I’m sure you had to.”

  “She made me choose,” Grace admitted. “All of you or her. I couldn’t—” She buried her face in Charles shirt again. “I should have found another way. I should have been able to stop her.”

  “She didn’t give you a fair choice,” Charles murmured.

  As pieces of a puzzle started to fall into place, Serin once again found herself humbled and ashamed. Isn’t this precisely what Barclay warned her about? She knew, despite their difference in beliefs, that Grace felt just as she did about the value of life. And yet still, this world had forced her to kill. “It doesn’t…” Her mouth felt dry as she tried to explain. “It doesn’t make you a killer. It doesn’t mean you can’t still be a good person.”

  Grace found the strength to look at Serin, offering a sad smile. “What if it does?”

  “You were always so dramatic,” a new voice called from the bow.

  Barclay found a beautiful blonde sitting on the railing less than an arm’s length away. He could only see the side of her face, but it was enough to conjure the memory of Grace’s mother as she tried to kill Charles. He kicked against the railing fast, throwing himself backward and skidding to a stop in front of the fey behind.

  “How?” he asked, not sure he was even seeing correctly.

  Grace gasped and Charles rose to a standing position, rage suffusing his very being. “You should have stayed dead,” he warned automatically. As he tried to take a step forward, he found Grace latched to his arm.

  “Are you haunting me?” Grace asked incredulously.

  “As I said,” Entregon began, “so dramatic.” The woman slid off the railing, facing the collected fey. “You look surprised.”

  “But—” Grace stuttered, “I… You… You’re alive.”

  Entregon placed the fingers of her right hand to her forehead. “Spoken with the true eloquence of your breeding,” she added sarcastically. “That was quite an attack, Daughter. More than I thought you would manage. But I told you already, you have not yet seen what I am capable of.”

  Turning to the remnants of her body, Entregon held her hand out wide before bringing them together in a single clap. In time with her motion, the two untouched ends of her ship pulled together and melded into a single, smaller hull. “Much better,” she commented, smiling at her work.

  Charles was sick of this immediately. “Screw you,” he declared before thrusting his free hand out. A thin funnel of razor sharp wind shot forward. The wind push Barclay aside softly before tearing into the woman farther ahead. Entregon was lifted off her feet before she seemed to explode in cloud of mist.

  “You two make quite a pair,” Entregon spoke from behind. The fey spun around, ready to fight, but Entregon held up her hand. “I am sure you will not believe me, but I am merely here to talk.”

  As predicted, Charles thrust his hand out again. This time, Entregon smiled and disappeared before the swirling vortex could touch her. The vortex, with no target available, continued forward and tore a perfect hole in the bridge. Charles cut the power quickly, surprised by the damage he’d caused.

  “You should be careful with that,” Entregon voiced to their left. “Someone might get hurt if you keep playing around.”

  Charles calmed himself enough to realize she was right. He’d been prepared to push Barclay aside, but if anyone got caught with the full force… Well, he didn’t want to think about it. “You want to talk? Then talk.”

  Entregon smiled again and stepped toward the new couple. “See, this is so much more pleasant.”

  Charles raise his arm in frustration, but Grace stopped him. “What do you want with us? Me?” Grace asked anxiously.

  “You will always be mine, child,” Entregon replied softly. “But what I want most is to see you grow into someone who does not need protection. I wish that could happen with you by my side, but it appears that is not to be the case.” Entregon eyed Charles impassively. “Though I do not understand your relationship to these…others, I cannot deny that you have made more progress in days with them than decades with me.”

  “What are you saying?” Grace asked, now confused.

  “I was so afraid you would never learn to take care of yourself, to protect yourself. And perhaps you are not all the way there yet, but you acted. When your options ran out, you did the one thing I hoped you would.” Entregon smiled proudly. “You fought. You fought with every intention to kill. And though you did not, ultimately, you would have succeeded against a lesser foe. Somehow these…things have brought out the you that might one day survive in this world.” Entregon held out her arms, encouraging Grace to come forward.

  Grace eyed her mother suspiciously, and glanced at Charles. Charles frowned and shook his head, but Grace couldn’t ignore the desire. She was still confused, hurt, and scared. Looking at her mother’s eyes, she remembered the days when she was just a child and her mother’s arms were the epitome of safety and comfort. She took a deep breath and looked to Charles. “It’s okay,” she stated, pushing him away softly. He resisted at first but relented under her serious gaze. Grace took three steps forward and fell into her mother’s arms.

  “I suppose this makes us even,” Entregon breathed into Grace’s hair.

  “I’m sorry,” Grace replied.

  “Do not be sorry, Daughter. I have never been more proud of you.” She rubbed Grace’s back before releasing the hug. “But know now that I will expect even more from you.” Looking passed Grace, she added, “All of you.”

  Grace blanched. “What does that mean?”

  Entregon let her eyes rove the fey behind her daughter. “General, I leave protection of my daughter in your hands. If I find she has been harmed again, most especially by one of your own, I will finish what I started when you were aboard. To the rest of you…fey, I leave the training of my daughter. Whatever you have done to give her the conviction to stand up to me, continue. None in this world should ever be her master.”

  “And, what, you just walk away?” Charles asked through gritted teeth.

  “You are not ready for that battle, general,” Entregon answered with a smile. “And, yes, I will leave. While you have places yet to go, and a country yet to face, I have other business to attend.” The woman disappeared from Grace’s deck, reappearing on her own. “Remember this day well, Grace. You may not have killed, but you proved you can. I will be checking in on you from time to time. Continue to make me proud.”

  The metal vessel, still larger than Grace even with a third of itself taken out, cut through the water without further ado. Everyone on board simply watched in silence until the Entregon disappeared toward Wolfe Island.

  “Did that really just happen?” Serin asked, breaking the spell over everyone on board. She squeezed Leslie’s hand, scrutinizing the way it felt. With her other she lightly slapped her own cheek. “I don’t appear to be dreaming,” she admitted.

  All eyes turned to Grace, whose own gaze remained locked on the shore of Wolf Island. She could feel the eyes on her and glanced around quickly, her cheeks turning red from the attention. “I’m, uh, as confused as you are.”

  Leslie pushed her own shock down, trying to approach the situation academically. “Um, whether she’s playing with us or not, shouldn’t we be using this opportunity to get out of here?”

  Barclay clapped his hands for attention. “You’re right, kid. Entregon or no, the Union isn’t going to take our victory lying down. It’ll take time to mobilize the nobles, but it’s just a matter of time
before they send out the biggest guns in their arsenal.” He caught Grace’s eye as he asked, “You good to get us moving?”

  Grace bowed her head, still reeling from everything that had happened. She took a deep breath before responding, “I can move.”

  Barclay laid a hand on the young spirit’s shoulder. It had been a lifetime since he’d dealt with the feelings she was obviously struggling through, but it wasn’t but a few decades since he was watching the greenies under his command facing the same struggle. “It’s a lot to take in,” he admitted, trying to help as best he could, “and doing something to keep your mind busy helps. The last thing you want to do is sit alone and bottle it all up.”

  Grace raised her eyes enough to catch the captain’s sincere eyes glowing a bright blue. “Thank you.”

  Barclay rounded on Charles, still attached at the elbow to the woman he loved. “Where to now, General?”

  “General?” Charles asked incredulously.

  “You’ve got your mojo back, seems you deserve your title, too,” Barclay commented, ready to fall in line like the old days.

  “I’d really prefer you didn’t call me that,” Charles admitted uncomfortably, his hand unconsciously rubbing the back of his head. He eyed Grace before adding, “I’m not that man anymore. I might have the old strength, but…” He gave Barclay an apologetic smile. “You were right when you said I was—am, maybe—a selfish prick. I was never much of a leader, even then.”

  Barclay couldn’t keep the satisfied smirk from his face. “Well, at least you figured it out.” His eyes turned serious. “But we still need to get out of here. Where to?”

  “Uh, I don’t know actually.” Charles stumbled over the words. “In retrospect, I really haven’t seen that much of the Union, and almost nothing outside that. Why don’t you decide?”

  Barclay raised an eyebrow incredulously. “You want me to tell you where to go?”

  Serin broke in evenly, “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing this whole time?”

  “I suppose,” Barclay replied. He waved at Charles. “But now you’re…” He closed both hands in a fist before flicking them open like an explosion. “And you two are…” He spread his fingers and slid both hands together several times. “What do you still need an old sea dog for?”

  It was Grace’s soft voice that cleared Barclay’s thoughts. “You are still our captain, Captain.” She managed a small smile. “We’ll follow your lead.”

  Barclay took half a step back. Were he an emotional man, he would have teared up or—he shuddered to think—hugged someone. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest, closed his eyes, and stoically raised himself to his full height. “All right,” he announced. His eyes shot open and locked on to Serin and Leslie. “You two, get everyone out to the deck. No more freeloaders on this ship. I’m going to whip them into shape.” He turned to Grace. “We make for the Atlantic. Union portals are probably still down, so we are taking the seaway. I need this ship to have working engines, human markings, and some windows on the bridge. After that, I need those nice little runes you had before. We might not run into problems right away, but no reason we should keep broadcasting our location.”

  “Yes, of course,” Grace replied. She closed her eyes and the ship beneath their feet turned hard and began cutting through the lake once again.

  “We’re on it,” Leslie added, dragging Serin back to the bridge.

  “What about me?” Charles asked with a smile.

  Barclay waited for the bonded to walk around the corner before stepping closer. “Once Grace is finished and everyone else gets here, I want you to take Grace below deck. I’m going to teach these converts to sail like a proper crew. That means all the things Grace has been doing for us these days needs to stop, at least for now.” He touched Grace’s shoulder again. “Whatever you two have going on is still new. In a real fight, I’m not going to be able to save either of you. You two need to spend whatever time it takes to figure this new…bond out.”

  Charles nodded. “Much as I don’t like admitting it—” he eyed Grace “—your mom was toying with us. I thought she might be sloppy because she was fighting you, but really, she was holding back.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Even back in the day I wasn’t the strongest fey out there, at least not until the soul melding. Your mom might be right up there, but if we couldn’t take her when she was holding back, we’re a long way from being safe from the Union.”

  Grace shuddered. “I don’t really want to think about that.”

  Hands grasped Grace’s shoulders, pulling her from Charles’s grasp and forcing her to face Barclay’s stern gaze. “You can’t turn away from this now, Gracie. Your mother is a piece of work, but she’s not entirely wrong.” Grace gasped, but he barreled forward. “You struck to kill. I know that hurts, that you don’t want it to be true, but it is. If you run from it now, it’ll eat you up from the inside.” He relaxed his hold on her shoulders, deflating slightly with a sigh. “Some call it selling out, some call it growing up, but this life we live changes us, and not always for the better. If we want to live, we have to accept that who we are is always a step toward who we’ll become.”

  “I’m afraid of who I’ll become,” Grace admitted.

  “You’re not your mother,” Barclay stated flatly. “You did what you did to protect, not for pleasure.” Grace looked down, ashamed, and Barclay released her. “It may take a long time, but someday, you’ll understand the difference.”

  “I hope it never comes to that again,” Charles spoke up from behind. He moved forward, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I can feel it, exactly how you feel. I’ve been there myself. I can’t take it away, nor do I think you want me to, but I’ll always be here and I’ll share it with you. We’ll make it through this together.”

  Grace leaned her head back into Charles’s chest. She could feel his conviction and love through their bond. She knew he could feel the pull just as she did. He bent down and captured her lips in a slow kiss. “Thank you,” she whispered when he broke away. She took a deep breath and looked out over the water. “We have a long way to go,” she mused, “but we’ll get there.”

  As dozens of footfalls sounded the approach of the crew, Barclay straightened himself and made a shooing motion toward the couple. “All right, get outta here. Grace, you’ve got some changes to make and then the both of you have work to do.”

  Grace smiled, a genuine smile. “Aye, aye, Captain.” She gave a sloppy salute, and Charles followed, though with the form and expression of a true soldier. Both smiled before turning and moving left to avoid the incoming crew.

  Barclay watched the converts mill about on the deck. Most looked relieved, some confused. They all looked soft. He grimaced briefly before finding Leslie and Serin near the front. “You two, up here.” He pointed with his right thumb to the deck behind him. Serin and Leslie exchanged glances but followed his command, each taking up post on either side behind the captain. Once they were stationary, Barclay stepped forward and yelled, “Quiet!” He waited a beat as everyone was stunned into silence. “Now line up—two rows.” When they didn’t respond fast enough, he yelled again, “Move it!”

  It took a full minute for the crew to figure out how many each were needed for two rows. It took a handful of constructive shouts before they managed to straighten out. Each remained silent, seemingly accustomed to being ordered about by a loud voice. When they finally settled, they simply stared at the captain. He did nothing but glare at first.

  “Listen up,” Barclay boomed. “I am your captain, and these two—” he indicated Serin and Leslie without glancing at them himself “—are my first mates. We’ve all been a bunch of freeloading layabouts so far, but that’s about to change. As of today, you all are going to learn to pull your weight on this ship. That means cooking, cleaning, fishing, maintenance, and any other damn thing I can think of.” He looked down briefly, continuing in a softer voice. “We’re all in this together. Whether the person next to you lives or
dies depends on every one of us. Now, are you ready for your first lesson?”

  The crew exchanged glances, unsure what to say. Serin stepped forward, but kept a short distance behind the captain. Her voice rose, nearly matching the Barclay’s. “If he has to repeat himself, this is going to take a helluva lot longer than any of us wants. Now are you ready?”

  A chorus of “Yes, ma’ams” and “Yes, sirs” replied.

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  Keith and Scott Walter grew up in Detroit Michigan. In their family of seven, books, crafts and imagination flourished. From early on, the two found a passion for creating. Keith went on to get a degree in English and Scott in Civil Engineering. Each created in different fashions for some years until they started their own families. So often the joys of reading are lost in the hectic world of adults. But in reading to their children, the brothers rekindled their love of stories and vowed to follow their passion.

  If you’d like to learn more about us, the authors, and the future of these characters, make sure to visit our website. This is a big world, that has only just been discovered. Join us in exploring.

  www.wandwfantasy.com