by Shae Ford
But Lysander gasped at the sight of it. “That belongs in the hands of a proper pirate! Hand it over —”
“Or what?” she hissed. She spun the sword by its hilt — an impressive move for someone so ancient. “Sorry, Captain, but the Lass belongs to me. And now, so do you.”
She cut the blade across her chest and black chains shot out of the ground in front of them. They wrapped around their limbs, pinning them where they stood. Kael watched his companions grunt and struggle, but even Kyleigh couldn’t wiggle free. When Jake tried to mutter a spell, a length of chain shot up and slapped him across the face, knocking his spectacles askew.
“Now, then,” the Witch said lazily. “The twiggy battlemage will go back to guarding me path, and I think I’ll keep the handsome captain for company.”
“Nev — mpft!” A chain stuffed itself in Lysander’s mouth, silencing him mid-protest.
“As for the rest of you … fish!” She cackled evilly, throwing her head back and whipping her tattered robes about her.
Kael chose that moment to step out of his chains. He pulled them off, cringing as the slimy bits stuck to his palms. By the time the Witch stopped cackling, he had an arrow trained on her heart.
“No!” she shrieked, her eyes wide with fear. “It ain’t possible, your kind are all dead!”
Lysander laughed through the chains in his mouth and said something to the effect of: “Meet your doom!”
But the Witch wasn’t going to give up so easily. Kael was a breath from loosing his arrow when she jabbed her sword at Kyleigh — who grunted as her neck bent involuntarily backwards. “Let go of that string, and I swear I’ll slit her throat,” the Witch hissed. “I’ll do it, even if it’s the last spell I ever cast.”
“Don’t —” Chains wrapped around Kyleigh’s mouth, snuffing out whatever she’d been about to say. She redoubled her efforts, squirming and railing on through the gag.
“Go ahead — shoot me. At least I’ll get to watch the blood drain out of her pretty little face before I go,” the Witch taunted. She was studying him, her bottomless eyes digging into every line of his features, trying to find a weakness.
And she found it in abundance.
He couldn’t hide the cold that suddenly sunk into his limbs and made them tremble. He tore his eyes away from his mark and focused them on Kyleigh’s neck. He could see the vein throbbing below her chin. It made him weak to think that vein might stop throbbing, that her heart might stop beating. It terrified him.
But the Witch never intended to kill her: it was a feint. The second Kael lost his concentration, she sent a spell screaming for him. It struck his bow and he felt the weapon tremble, shudder, just before it burst into a thousand pieces. He was left holding only a jagged remnant of the grip: the wind swept the rest of it out to sea, taking everything left of Tinnark with it.
“Kael, you have to free us!” Aerilyn screamed at him.
He looked up in time to see the Witch drive the Lass into the ground. Green fire spurted up from the earth and covered her in a protective ball. It raced around the courtyard, catching onto the walls and trapping them in a circle of flames. Then the ground began to shake. It tossed and rolled so violently that he had to dive to make it to Jake. He stuffed the splintered remnant of Roland’s bow into his pocket and then ripped the chains off of Jake. Together, they freed the others.
“What were you thinking?” Kyleigh said when he tore the bindings from her mouth. “Why didn’t you shoot her? You could have killed her before she even had a chance to cast!”
He glared and ripped the rest of the chains off. “I don’t know — I got distracted, I suppose! It was more than a little nerve —”
She clamped a hand over his mouth. “Do you hear that?”
No, he didn’t hear anything. The fire still burned around them, but the ground had stopped shaking. It was eerily quiet.
“Circle! Form a circle!” Lysander bellowed, and they leapt to obey.
They stood in silence for a long moment, their weapons facing out into the courtyard and their breath coming in quick gasps. Every hair on the back of Kael’s neck stood on end. He gripped his hunting dagger and steeled himself for whatever trick the Witch had in store. Then a loud noise in the center of their circle made him spin around.
Dust and bits of earth flew skywards as a skeletal arm burst out of the ground. It clawed itself free by the sharp tips of its fingers and Aerilyn screamed when it reared its horrible, grinning head.
Kyleigh stepped forward and kicked the skull off its shoulders. It went sailing to the other side of the courtyard, but the body kept moving.
“Let’s see how you fair against the cold edge of steel, whisperer!” the Witch cackled.
At her words, the courtyard erupted. Bony limbs sprouted from the ground, clawing for fresh air as they pulled their bodies out of the earth. Skeletons climbed out of the rubble. They wielded rusty swords and wore ancient suits of armor that screeched when they moved. And Kael thought he might have figured out where all of those lost armies wound up.
Kyleigh hacked the skeleton in the middle of the circle to bits, then thrust Harbinger into his hands. “Treat him well!” she said.
He watched her charge headlong towards the first wave of skeletons and held his breath. She leapt up and kicked off one of the boulders, launching herself above the fray. Wings sprouted from her back, her arms grew long and dagger-like claws curved out from her hands. By the time she landed — crushing a good number of skeletons beneath her — she was the white dragon once again.
She opened her mouth, and a river of yellow flame spewed out. The fire struck a line of soldiers, reducing them to a charred, twisted pile of bones and steel. Even from where he stood, Kael could feel the heat rising up from the smoldering earth.
“No!” the Witch cried. Kyleigh shot up into the clouds, narrowly missing the Witch’s spell. It struck a group of skeletons behind her, and they crumbled to ash.
“It’s no good, my arrows aren’t doing anything!” Aerilyn wailed. She fired a shot that rattled harmlessly inside a skeleton’s ribcage before falling out onto the ground.
“Here!” Jake tapped her quiver with his staff, and the fletching of her arrows turned a bright, dangerous red. “That should do the trick.”
The next shot she fired hit a pack of soldiers and exploded. Kael’s ears rang with the noise and it knocked the rest of his companions off their feet. Lysander clamped his hands over his ears and glared as bits of charred bone bounced off his head. “Try aiming further away, will you?” he shouted at Aerilyn. “If I must die today, I’d rather be buried in something a little larger than a stocking!”
Between Aerilyn’s explosions and Jake’s spells, they were able to keep the skeletons at bay. When Aerilyn ran out of arrows, Kael gave her his. The second they hit the bottom of her quiver, their fletching turned red.
Any stray soldiers that managed to make it to their circle they had to fight off with swords. Lysander and Thelred worked together, hacking skeletons to bits. The first time he swung Harbinger, Kael thought he’d missed. The blade was so sharp that it cleaved through bone and armor with hardly any force. As the sword shrilled in delight, he felt a wave of fresh energy wash over him. He felt like he could have chopped skeletons for a fortnight without breaking a sweat.
Kyleigh dipped down when she could: spewing fire for a couple of seconds before she had to dart back into the clouds. The Witch sent spell after spell in her direction, but none found their mark.
They held their ground for several long minutes before the battle took a turn against them. “I’ve run out of arrows!” Aerilyn said. And without her explosions keeping them back, a great horde of soldiers swarmed to fill the gap.
Sweat lathered Jake’s brow. His teeth were gritted down and he had to push his spectacles up his nose more and more often. Kael didn’t know how much longer he would last.
He knew he must do something, because if he didn’t, the Witch’s grisly army would overtake
them. They would chop them into tiny bits with their rusty swords and grin the whole way back to their graves. Something must be done, and quickly.
“Here!” He shoved Harbinger into Aerilyn’s hands and found a likely looking boulder. It was only a few yards away, and he wagered it stood tall enough to buy him some time. “Jake, clear me a path to that rock!”
He didn’t ask why, he just turned and sent a ball of wind blasting through the soldiers. Kael sprinted down the path it made and scrambled arm over leg to the top of the boulder. He raised his fist high over his head and yelled: “Kyleigh!”
The Witch heard him. He saw her horribly wrinkled face go white behind her ball of flame. “Stop him! Stop the whisperer!”
The courtyard went silent — then came the sound of a thousand skulls as they ground against their bony necks, fixing him with the dark of their empty sockets. Kael stood with his arm raised high even as the first skeleton climbed the boulder. His friends fought to get to him, slashing frantically through the wall of bones, but he knew they wouldn’t reach him in time.
There was only one hope for him now.
“Kyleigh!” he said again as the first soldier reached him. It stood on its wobbly legs and the plates of its filthy armor screeched as it raised its sword. Kael imagined death by a dull blade would hurt much more than death by a sharp one. It might take several swipes to cleave his head. He closed his eyes as the skeleton’s arm dropped, preparing for the pain.
Claws wrapped around his arm and he tensed as Kyleigh jerked him upwards. They left the courtyard behind, left the skeletons clawing over one another and left the Witch cursing. He watched until the clouds swept under his boots, hiding the world from view.
“It’s about time!” he shouted at Kyleigh, who roared in reply.
Her voice made his lungs rattle inside their cage. She squeezed his arm tightly and an image of the Witch struck him, hard and fast. He realized what she was trying to say.
“Right, I have a plan.” He sent her a very detailed picture of what he wanted her to do, playing it out for her exactly as he imagined it. Then she sent him a reply, one in which she showed what would happen — in gruesome detail — if she missed. “I don’t want to think about that,” he said quickly. “We have to save the others, and we haven’t got time to waste. Now fly!”
She turned sharply and the next thing he knew, they were falling.
He left his stomach far behind — somewhere safely above the clouds. He curled his toes and gripped his hunting dagger so tightly that he thought he might break his own hand. They dove into the courtyard and she jerked to the side as the Witch hurled a spell. Red, blue, black flashes of light whooshed past them as Kyleigh dodged spell after spell, careening dangerously for the ball of fire. He could hear the Witch’s screams rising in panic. They were so close that he could almost see the terror on her wrinkly face.
Then, at the very last moment, Kyleigh shot up. His arm slipped out from her claw and he fell through the fire, hot blood pulsing in his every vein. The flames lapped at him, but could not burn. His legs kicked out and he held the dagger high over his head, waiting for the blink of time when he’d break through the fire and have a clear shot. When that moment came and he saw the look on the Witch’s face, he knew he’d won.
Fear ringed her eyes — so sharp and white that it couldn’t have been anything else. Her mouth gaped open and the folds of skin hanging off her neck trembled from a scream he couldn’t hear. She was a rabbit stuck in a trap; a beast so clever and quick that she thought this day would never come. But now it had, and she was letting out a scream she’d been holding back for centuries:
Her last.
Kael’s dagger struck her heart, sinking into her flesh and stopping at the hilt. He let go, and it took every ounce of his remaining strength to fall correctly. He hit the stone and rolled until he hit the wall. Sharp pain pounded mercilessly in his ears, and he knew he’d pushed himself too far. He watched the Witch squirm for a moment, writhing in her death throes before she finally lay still. A loud crack ripped through the air and a blast of wind knocked his body aside.
He’d survived the tempest, he’d killed the Witch, and now he was finished. He knew, even as he heard his companions rushing to his side, that it was too late. He couldn’t fight against this pain: so blinding he could hardly feel it.
He was dying.
*******
Light — light powerful enough to cut through his torment struck the gathering darkness and pushed it back. The world swam before his eyes and breath caught in his lungs again. He could smell the grass, hear footsteps grind to a halt — feel Kyleigh’s hand clutched in his.
Her dark brows were bent in concentration, red brushed her cheeks. “This is horrible,” she groaned, half-laughing. “How do you whisperers stand it?”
“Are you healing me?” he heard himself ask.
She grimaced. “No, it’s a … a dragon thing. We can sometimes share pain.”
He heard Jake gasp. “But I thought that could only happen if —”
“Shhhh!” Aerilyn and Lysander said in unison.
Kael didn’t hear what they argued over. He suddenly realized why his pain was fading back, and why Kyleigh’s hand was starting to shake. “No, don’t take it.” He could barely push the words past his lips. With the anguish fading, a new darkness was creeping in — one that would carry him into sleep. “Don’t … I can manage …”
She snorted, and winced. “Don’t fight me, you stubborn mountain child.”
She moved her arm to his chest, and he noticed she was still wearing her armor. He gripped her wrist in his other hand and mumbled: “How …?”
“It can hold both of my forms,” she said quietly. “I can’t tell you how, though — it’s a very great secret.”
He thought he knew. For some reason, he thought he knew immediately why. But then the darkness made him forget.
Chapter 29
Witchslayer
What Kael woke up to definitely wasn’t what he fell asleep to. When he managed to clear his vision enough to see Jonathan’s clownish face, he jumped.
“Aha!” the fiddler said, much too loudly. “See? I told you he was awake.”
“That’s just because your breath knocked him right out of his dreams,” Noah retorted. He shoved Jonathan aside and frowned at Kael. “Are you really awake?”
“I am now,” Kael muttered. He was still weak from his headache. His limbs felt like the mush at the bottom of a stew kettle. But at least he was alive. Jonathan and Noah helped him sit up and as he blinked, his surroundings came slowly into focus.
It was dark: he could see the stars twinkling above him. Firelight danced merrily all along the street — illuminating cut stone walls and darkened house windows. Laughter floated in and out of his ears. Shadowed forms of people sat hunched around the fires, sipping from tankards and chatting while slabs of meat roasted between them. Rough cobblestone made up the ground under his bedroll — which explained why his back ached so fiercely.
“We’re in Copperdock,” he said, and they nodded. “Good to see you’ve made it out of the brig, Jonathan.”
He grinned widely. “That’s not all. Look at this!” He turned to the side so that Kael could see the cutlass at his hip. “When Captain Lysander got back to the ship, he gave me my very own fish-sticker.”
Kael was more than a little shocked. “Well that’s a far cry from mutiny.”
“Yeah, he blathered on about how he wasn’t often wrong, but wound up thinking I was a brave chap for wanting to come search for you,” Jonathan said, his dark eyes glinting. “A sword’s better than a noose, don’t get me wrong. But I thought a bit of coin might’ve had a sweeter ring to it. There’s rats down in that brig, mate! Buck-toothed villains with a horrible appetite for toes.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “It’s not all that bad. I’ve been in loads of times. The worst part is Morris boring you to tears with all of his stories. Sometimes I think I would have preferred the noos
e.”
“Is Morris around?” Kael asked.
Jonathan shook his head. “Nope. He stayed with the rest of the men to watch the ship. You’ll see him tomorrow, though. And speaking of romance,” he grinned mischievously, “how was the kiss of life?”
Noah leaned in expectantly, but Kael had no idea what they were talking about. “The what?”
“Come on, mate.” Jonathan edged closer and put a hand to the side of his mouth. “You nearly drowned, right?”
“Yes …”
“And Kyleigh said she had to bring you back.”
“And?”
“And we all know there’s only one way to breathe life back into a drowned sailor,” Jonathan said with a wink.
Mercy, now he remembered. The illustrations in A Sailor’s Guide to Staying Alive hadn’t exactly been romantic, but just the thought of Kyleigh putting her lips on his, even to get him to cough up water, made his stomach flip.
Jonathan pointed at his burning cheeks and cackled. “Ha! He does remember. So how was it?”
Kael shoved his hand away. “I don’t know, I wasn’t exactly conscious,” he snapped. But that didn’t stop Jonathan from whistling loudly and making kissing sounds.
Noah punched him in the arm. “Leave off. He nearly died — it’s nothing to joke about.”
“Even Kyleigh thought it was funny,” Jonathan said. “She and Aerilyn haven’t stopped giggling since sundown.”
That makes perfect sense, Kael thought darkly. A girl like Kyleigh was much more likely to giggle than swoon over kissing a boy like him. He could see why she would laugh, and he knew he shouldn’t be hurt over it. But that didn’t stop it from hurting.
“Anyways,” Noah said, with a sharp look at Jonathan, “the captain says he wants to see you, Kael. He sent us to make sure you were awake.”
There weren’t too many things worse than having to talk to Lysander, but brooding was one of them. So he got to his feet.
