The kitchen burst into flame. Bezel backed away, throwing up his hands to protect his face. Rogen spun to survey the situation and Cite looked for something else to put the flames out. He spotted a bucket of sand, kept for this purpose.
The door burst inward and Dawn stepped in, her face a mask of anger. Her braid lashed around behind her as she looked around and assessed the situation. She drew in a deep breath and raised her hands. Cite felt a rush in his head, like a hurricane force wind being pulled past him and into Dawn. Winds whipped in from the portholes and the temperature of the room dropped. The flames dwindled to nothing and everything was covered in a layer of frost.
Tildan stood and looked at his niece and his son standing behind her. “You couldn’t get here a little bit sooner?” he asked.
“You’re welcome,” she said. “Rogen, keep out of sight and tend to my Uncle’s burns. Bezel, on deck. Cite, you too. We need to find whatever it was you were fighting. I assume it was the same thing making all that racket with the screams?” Seeing the men nod, Dawn turned and pushed past Warton and back onto the main deck. Bezel followed in his nightshirt, reloading his crossbow from the small case belted around his waist. Cite fell in behind.
Most of the crew were on deck, some pulling up buckets of water, others rushing to the forecastle. Dawn led the way up the stairs to join the latter. The creature had made its way onto the bowsprit, as Kytson and Conald watched it, keeping their distance. It screeched again as they gathered on the deck in front of it. Bezel leveled his weapon and fired, a second quarrel appeared beside the first in its chest. Conald swung a rope with a grapnel on it and threw it towards the creature at the same time Kytson threw a harpoon with a rope tied to it.
The grapnel missed, but the harpoon’s aim was true. It went all the way through the monster’s shoulder and out its back. The shape shifter stood up, and before they could pull it in, it fell sideways towards the water. Kytson set his feet and began to pull the rope in hand over hand and Conald stepped behind him to help.
“What the hell was that?” Conald asked.
“Jumper,” Cite said, laughing to himself at the pun. Kytson looked at him with a glare, and Cite could not be sure if it was because of what he had said or if it was just general ire. “Jumper was not himself; that was something else, a Troöd. They are a reptilian race. This one used magic of some sort and apparently was a shape shifter. It tried to kill Tildan, Warton, Bezel, Rogen, and me. It would have taken the whole ship down if it could have.”
The rope in the men’s hands showed resistance and became taut. They leaned back, putting their weight into bringing the creature back on board. The line began winding out and tore from Conald’s hands. Kytson managed to hold on, but the line fed out so quickly that smoke could be seen rising from his hands. He let out a yell and released it, his open hands showing the meat had been torn all the way to the bone. Conald grabbed the end of the dwindling coil of hemp and tied it off on a cleat. The rope wound out until there was no more and the line went taut with a jerk. The wood where the cleat was bolted gave a dangerous cracking sound. The ship jerked to starboard as whatever was at the other end of the rope changed directions and pulled the ship behind it.
“Cut that loose!” Dawn shouted as she leapt for the rail. Conald drew a knife and ran forward to do as she commanded. As he reached the rope, it went slack and dropped into the water, no longer stretched tight but still tied to the deck.
“Cut it before whatever that is tears my hull off, Conald,” Dawn commanded again. “Kytson, get below and see to those hands, you are no good to me up here now.”
Cite slowed his breathing and let his mind relax, extending his thoughts out. He felt the warm energy course through his hands and knew he held his psychic daggers. Something moved at the edge of his awareness. Not a thinking thing like the people around him, but something much more primitive. Something large. A sense of fear reached Cite from the approaching creature and it turned away and moved off at high speed, as something even larger came into the Mind Mage’s mental net.
“Get ready, people, something wicked this way comes!” Cite shouted.
The winds died, the sails went flaccid, and the ship slowed. Most of the crew had come to the forecastle, waiting for whatever would happen next. Bezel, his crossbow loaded, also waited. Conald cut through the rope and dropped it into the dark blue depths. Dawn leaned over the rail, watching the waters where the rope disappeared. Only the sound of the sails flapping and the gentle lapping of the waves on the hull broke the silence. Everyone stood still and looked around, watching the water for any unnatural movement.
The water on the port side of the ship erupted as a large creature, easily half the length of the ship, launched itself into the air and its body crashed down onto the main deck. The ship rocked and a half dozen crew, including Treat and Puffer, slid towards the monster. The beast had a long snout that snapped at the sailors on the forecastle deck with multiple rows of ten-inch long teeth. Three seamen disappeared into its maw. Its deep emerald color caught the sunlight as its head whipped sideways and snatched Puffer from the deck. Puffer did not even have time to draw a breath to cry out before his body was bitten in half and swallowed by the gargantuan sea monster.
On the main deck, Kytson had just made it into the forecastle. Rogen, buckled the last of his pouches and weapons onto his body as he pushed past Kytson, who gave him a suspicious glare. Vonka grabbed a sword from the many at the base of the main mast, while Warton went for a long pole used for pushing off docks, rocks, or other hazards. Rogen skidded onto the leaning deck, sized up the situation and drew his double-handed battle-axe from over his shoulder. Tart had just come onto the deck from the Captain’s quarters and slid towards the port railing.
On the forecastle deck, Bezel grabbed the rigging and wrapped his arm around a rope to prevent him from sliding into the water, or worse. He whipped the crossbow around and fired a bolt into the thick rubbery hide of the creature’s face. Cite hovered in place as he calmly threw his energy knives into the beast’s neck. Conald scrambled for another harpoon.
Dawn’s eyes flashed with anger. She threw her arms wide and the wind swirled around her as if answering her call. The sails snapped and the waves began to break against the ship. She searched for the ley lines and felt an earth line in the ocean floor, a water line in the strong current that followed the coast they were approaching and another in the air that followed the same paths as the weather systems. Reaching out with her gift, she touched each of these, being careful not to draw too much energy, and began to build her attack.
The creature finished swallowing the swabbie and slid back towards the water, tearing away the railing and rigging and dragging it all over the side. Conald launched the harpoon and pierced the hide of its neck. Its head whipped sideways, catching Warton and sending him into the ocean before it followed him. Tart slid along the tilted deck, but caught hold of the broken railing before he fell into the waiting ocean.
Rogen ran towards the boy, grabbing a rope that was tied to the mast as he passed. He threw himself across the deck on his belly, axe in his right hand and rope in his left, and shot past Tart and over the open water. He could see the huge silhouette of the beast in the water below Warton. Rogen’s rope reached its full length and snapped him back towards the ship. With a twist of his body he returned to the deck on the opposite side of Tart, effectively wrapping the rope around the young sailor. The ship was righted now that the sea beast was no longer weighing it to the port side. The force of that correction threw everyone on board off balance, and Tart slid across the deck to the main mast. Rogen landed on the deck, releasing the rope and rolling to his feet. Grabbing another rope from the torn rigging, he began to run a wide circle that would allow him to swing wide and across the water.
Warton was wrapped up in the rigging and lines that the monster had wrapped itself in and pulled into the water when it slid back into the sea. He was trying to drag himself on top of the wreckage, but he was
being pulled under as the monster pulled the debris deeper.
The waves grew in height as the wind strengthened. Dawn walked to the rail overlooking the main deck as the ship rocked. She looked over the scene below and reached a decision. Drawing energy from two of the ley lines, she combined them in her mind and clouds formed overhead where there were none moments ago. Cite could feel the hum of energy course through her as his mind touched hers.
Cite rose into the air above the deck. He saw Rogen beginning another run towards the edge of the ship, to where Warton floundered. The looming shadow of the monster quickly grew larger in the water below Warton. The mind mage felt for the mind of the beast but only sensed its presence. Its mind was much too primitive and alien for him to be able to delve into it. He did feel an envelope around the beast’s mind, as if someone were driving it to attack when it would not have done so. Cite drew the energy back to his hands. Pressing them together then pulling them apart slowly, he created an elongated dagger that was more like a spear.
The creature burst from the water and thunder rolled from the newly formed clouds above. Conald threw a harpoon at the beast and Bezel scored a hit in its eye with a quarrel from his crossbow. Warton was raised into the air on the snout of the beast and rolled off and fell back towards the water. Rogen swept out over the water, swiping at the monster and leaving a trailing gash under its right flipper. He continued forward and as his feet skimmed the surface, Warton grabbed hold of his legs.
The beast crashed down on the deck of the ship again and snapped at Tart. Catching the mast in its maw with Tart in between its jaws, it heaved with its powerful neck muscles and a loud crack was heard as the mast shifted. The swabbie froze in terror, but a shout from Vonka brought him back to his senses. The boy turned and tried to climb the mast while keeping an eye on the monster on the deck. As Tart started to climb, the creature opened its jaws and snapped them shut again, severing Tart’s leg at the knee. He fell back to the deck outside of the beast’s jaws, screaming and holding his amputated leg.
Cite drew his arm back and threw his psychic spear. It flew into the base of the creature’s skull and disappeared. The beast thrashed and let out a cry that almost deafened Vonka, who was trying to stab it with a sword. The monster then began to slide back towards the water, its head whipping about and the ship leaning, water lapping onto the deck.
Tildan appeared in the doorway of the forecastle, sword in hand, with Kytson behind him. The quartermaster’s feet were bound, his skin was blotchy from the burns and most of his hair was missing. The boatswain’s hands had been wrapped, and he gingerly held knives from the kitchen. With a final thrashing movement from the creature, the mast splintered and fell towards the forecastle as it slid back into the water, trailing the rope that was still in its mouth from where it had swallowed the reptilian shape shifter earlier.
The ship groaned as the weight of the mast crashed down onto the deck where Dawn had stood a moment before. She came up from a roll and hurled something towards the water where the beast had returned to the sea. Lightning arched from the now dark clouds above and lanced into the water a half dozen times. Rogen and Warton had just managed to pull themselves clear of the waves before the electricity coursed through them.
Vonka reached to help steady them as the ship rocked and righted itself after the beast’s departure. Rogen stood, keeping his balance with ease, and ran to the edge of the deck, axe in hand, waiting for the beast to emerge from the churning waters. Lighting struck again and again, leaving blue-white streaks across his vision. The beast floated to the surface, scorch marks showing down the length of it body.
Dawn saw that her target no longer moved and set to righting the atmospheric effects she had conjured. She felt the intensity of the energy she had gathered. The air crackled with it around the ship. She dispersed what she could and untied the knots of energy she had conjured. She felt a rumble under the ocean and knew it was too late.
“Brace yourselves!” she warned the crew. She turned to find something to hold onto, since the mast had shattered the railing between her and the main deck. She heard a call from Bezel and turned to catch the rope he threw to her, having secured it to the deck cleats. Cite still floated a yard above the deck, his hair flying in the winds Dawn was now trying to disperse. Conald was there too, crushed between the bowsprit and the mast when it fell. She turned away to check on the rest of her crew.
Warton grabbed the rope leading to the monster, secured it to the remaining stump of the main mast and then secured himself. Vonka braced himself on the steps leading up to the quarterdeck. Rogen grabbed the unconscious form of Tart, slammed his axe into the deck to hold onto, and with one arm wrapped around its haft, tied a rope around the bleeding stump of the lad. Treat and a dozen other men were nowhere to be seen. Kytson looked around, knowing he could not hold onto anything with his hands. Tildan grabbed him and pinned him with his own body against the wall of the forecastle, grabbing the bracket of the smoking lamp to anchor them.
The ship began to gently rock as the first bubbles reached the surface. The sea exploded. Huge shockwaves shook the vessel and she was raised twice her own height as the water shot upward in a geyser. Everything fell silent as the water rushed out from under the Lady Luck and she hung there in the air for a moment. The ship plummeted from the sky, hitting the ocean hard with the sounds of timbers shattering and wood shifting. Water rushed over the sides of her and washed atop the crew, swirling around them and threatening to tear them away and into the sea.
The ship settled into a relative calm. The crew could see the ripples emanating outward from the Lady Luck and growing taller as they became waves. The ship listed to the starboard side, riding low in the water.
“All hands on deck,” shouted Dawn, taking on her role as Captain.
“All hands on deck now!” Tildan echoed in his role as Quartermaster.
Cite lowered himself to the ground and almost collapsed. He saw Dawn staring at him with a hard look and felt her thought: ‘Stand up, don’t look weak now. They need to know everything will be well. You will have time to rest when they know that.’ He nodded as he stood and took deliberate and determined steps down to the main deck. Treat dodged past him, appearing from nowhere. Bezel took Cite’s elbow as he went down the stairs to help steady him. When they reached the main deck, Bezel let go as if nothing had happened and joined the crew.
Tildan stood in front of the line of men. Warton still held the rope that was wrapped around the broken mast and trailed into the sea. Vonka stood next to Kytson and Bezel. Rogen knelt beside Tart, who was unconscious. Cite joined the line. Dawn stood on the forecastle deck and looked down on her crew.
“Vonka, take Warton and Treat below and fix any leaks. Kytson, go below and check on Cutter. Tildan and Rogen, see what it will take to either patch that mast or dispose of it. Bezel, get some clothes on.” Bezel looked down at his torn and stained nightshirt and nodded. “Then join Cite and myself up here to check for other damage. You all have your assignments. Dismissed.” Dawn waited for Bezel and Cite to join her on the forecastle as the others went about their duties.
“You heard the Captain,” Tildan roared, “let’s get this ship seaworthy again.”
Dawn sat with her head in her hands. Bezel set a glass on the table in front of her and patted her on the shoulder. “You did well, Captain. I do not think anyone else could have done better.”
“Vonka has the wheel and Rogen is taking extra watches so the men can rest. It will take an extra day to limp to port with all the damage we took. I am down to half a crew with all the injuries and losses.” Dawn sighed as she leaned back and sipped at her drink. “Tart may never recover. Tildan is covered with burns; it is incredible that he stayed on his feet all day.”
“He is an incredible man.”
“Kytson can’t use his hands. Puffer and Conald are both dead. Not to mention Maurence and Jumper.”
“Captain,” Bezel said, “you had a crewmember replaced with a d
oppelganger; kill another crew member; frame someone else and that almost tore the ship apart; stopped a kitchen grease fire; fought the shape shifter only to have it jump into the ocean and be swallowed by a creature that should not exist that it may have summoned on purpose; fought that beast even though it was almost as big as the ship itself; and managed to keep the Lady Luck afloat and keep the corpse of the monster. I say you did well enough. Wouldn’t you agree, Cite?”
Cite opened his eyes and shut them again. Night had fallen and it was no longer so bright that he was in constant pain, but even candle light hurt and made his head flare. “Yes, she did great. I am just sorry that I didn’t find the Troöd before it could get as far as it did.”
Dawn looked at him. “What exactly is a Troöd?”
Cite rubbed at his forehead as he explained. “Troöds are an ancient race. For centuries people thought they were myths; I had not seen one myself. A society of reptilian bipeds who are highly intelligent, more intelligent than humans according to some. It depends whom you talk to, but some say they have been around since before mankind. Others say they came from another place and tried to take over this world. Man has run across primitive versions of them in swamps occasionally. From what I have learned, they can adapt as well as humans to almost any climate though. Like us, they can use magic, but I suspect they may have a few more years of practice than our species.”
“How do you know all this stuff about them if they are so secretive?” Dawn asked.
“I like to read a lot, and collect strange tales from travelers. Due east and north of my village is a mountain range called the Wandering Hills. We have known about societies of these creatures for a while now. We have even had some trade with them. It is rumored that a couple of hundred years ago a dragon took up residence.” Cite paused as he saw the looks on their faces. “I’ve never seen it. It may be something the Troöds call their leaders, or it may be truth, I don’t know. Anyhow, they built a city there and drew humans in with promises of gold, jewels, protection, and all the other things that people want. All the people had to do was provide the Troöds with food. Not sacrifices, just grains, fruits, and meats. No different than serving a Lord.”
Harbinger: The Downfall - Book One Page 22
