by PT Hylton
Abbey saw a shape in the darkness up ahead, illuminated by the full moon. At first, she thought maybe it was her imagination, but as they got closer, she became sure of its reality. She nudged Syd and pointed toward it. “What the hell is that?”
Syd spun her head toward the shape, her eyes alive with concern, but once she saw what Abbey was pointing at, she relaxed. “Ah, that’s a relic from the time before the Mad Days.”
Abbey looked at the metal shape sticking out of the water. The thing was massive.
“The stories say it was called an olerig,” Syd continued. “There are many of them scattered throughout the sea. Captain Roy always has us observe a moment of silence as we pass them, in memory of whoever came before and built such monstrosities.”
Abbey stayed silent as they passed. This sea could drown her with a single massive wave, so she damn well better pay attention to its traditions. Once they were safely clear of the relic, she tried the new word. “Olerig. What could have been the purpose of such a thing?”
“They say it was used to pull power from the depths of the sea.”
“Like Storm Callers do?” Abbey asked.
Syd mulled that over a moment before answering. “Perhaps. Though, I get the sense this was different. Just another mystery of the bad old days, I suppose. We’re lucky to live in a more civilized time.”
Abbey watched over her shoulder as the olerig disappeared into the darkness. Humans had such a short memory. People had probably spent their lives building those strange devices, and now there was no one left who even knew what it was for.
Dustin shifted his feet a little and coughed into his hand. It may have been Abbey’s imagination, but she was almost certain she felt the wind at her back stutter when he did so.
Syd grimaced. “Storm Caller, we need to discuss our plan here.”
Dustin’s voice was strained when he answered. Clearly, his concentration was still on the sea. “This seems to be working fine. We want to get to Holdgate, right? I’m getting us there as quickly as possible.”
“And yet,” Syd said, “the wind at our backs has been steadily decreasing in power for the last thirty minutes. I see you up there gripping your little staff, but still our progress slows.”
Dustin glanced back over his shoulder at them, his glowing eyes alive with anger.
Abbey nudged Syd. “Uh oh, now you’ve done it. He’s very sensitive about the size of his staff.”
“What? I am not!” Dustin took a deep breath before continuing. “Do you have any idea how difficult this is? If either of you would like to take a turn, be my guest.”
Syd chuckled. “I’m not calling your skill into question, Storm Caller. I’ve been sailing long enough to know most of your peers would have needed to rest long before now. Still, you are human. You can’t keep this up forever.”
“Not forever. Just until we get home.” The weariness was clear in his voice as he spoke.
For the first time in a while, Abbey really looked at him. At the way he was resting his weight on his staff and the slouch in his shoulders. “Look, as much as I hate to admit it, Syd is right. You were Storm Calling all day yesterday, and then you called down the fog for the raids last night. When was the last time you slept?”
“We’re all tired,” Dustin growled back at her. “This is too important to stop.”
Abbey felt a bit of anger rising in her own gut now. This was the exact type of pride that led him to ignore her all those years. “Yeah, we’re all tired, but I think Syd and I can handle sitting here resting. You’re channeling magic to control the damn weather. And Syd’s right. We’re going slower. I’m not going to be caught by Tor and his Storm Raiders just because my Storm Caller friend is too much of an arrogant asshole to admit when he needs a nap.”
Dustin bristled at that, but he didn’t answer immediately. When he did, there was resignation in his voice. “I’m open to ideas. You got something?”
Abbey thought about that. “Well, Tor has three Storm Callers left, including Dahlia who’s supposed to be this hot shit badass, right?”
Dustin nodded grimly. “She’s the best there is.”
“They’ve also got three warships. Four if we’re counting The Foggy Day.” She glanced at Syd. “No offense.”
“None taken,” the woman said with a smile.
“So, I’m thinking they’re bound to catch us on open water.”
Syd ran a hand across her bald head. “Unfortunately, I agree.”
Dustin sighed. “Yeah. Me, too. Like I said, I’m open to other ideas.”
Abbey nodded. “I think we need to rob them of their advantages. There’s one place that Storm Callers and warships are both worthless. Dry land.”
Syd’s eyes narrowed. “You’re suggesting we walk to Holdgate?”
“I don’t know about that, Abbey. We’re making great time here.” The doubt was clear in Dustin’s voice.
“It doesn’t matter how fast we’re going on the open water,” Abbey said. “We agree they’ll catch up to us here. My father’s sitting in a jail cell right now, and we’re his only chance of getting out. Moving across dry land would be much slower, but we would also be much more difficult to find.”
“I wouldn’t have my Storm Caller abilities if we’re away from the sea.” Dustin was hesitant, but it was clear he was beginning to at least consider the idea.
“If we’re careful enough, you won’t need them,” Abbey answered.
Syd nodded slowly. “I feel more at home on the water, same as you, Dustin. But I think the Arcadian is right. We need to move inland. We can head south through the mountains. Tor and his crew will never find us there.”
Dustin sighed. “Okay. So, we’re in agreement?”
Abbey smiled. “Let’s get back on dry land.”
****
Benjamin risked a glance out the window and saw a city guard passing below. He quickly moved away from the window and out of sight.
They were in a room on the second story of a building Benjamin had never noticed before near the center of Holdgate. Apparently, Jarvi owned this building. Benjamin didn’t know exactly how rich Jarvi was, but he was beginning to think the answer was very. It was midmorning now, and they’d been holed up here since shortly after their escape the previous night. Jarvi had said it was too dangerous to go back to his home outside of town. After the previous day’s events, and now Benjamin’s disappearance from jail, that would surely be the first place the Magistrate’s men would look for him.
Thankfully, Jarvi had a number of properties in the city, and most of them were listed under false identities. For the first time, Benjamin was grateful for his friend’s paranoid nature.
Jarvi had been looking out the window for the past hour, clearly deep in thought. Benjamin was a man of action. He was getting tired of sitting around. If they were going to work to find the real killer as Jarvi had said, he wanted to get on with it.
“So, what’s the plan?” Benjamin asked finally.
Jarvi was slow to answer, but when he did, it was with another question. “How much do you know about the history of the Storm Callers?”
Benjamin shrugged. “Not a lot. I heard about them in Arcadia, when I was at the Academy. But it was more rumor than anything else. Stories of Storm Raiders and all that. Arcadia’s landlocked, so it wasn’t something we worried about one way or another.”
“And when you came here? Were you surprised at what you found?”
Benjamin thought about that for a moment. “I suppose I was. I had no idea they’d be so important to the city. I didn’t expect them to be treated with such honor.”
Jarvi turned from the window and looked at his friend, a thin smile on his face. “It wasn’t always that way. Some of us are old enough to remember another time. Things were different just after the Mad Days.”
Benjamin chuckled. “We call it the Age of Madness where I’m from.”
Jarvi nodded. “Both names are too civilized, as far as I’m concerned. It
was a brutal time. And even after the madness ended, life in Holdgate was difficult. The people tried to eke out an existence by fishing, but the rough seas claimed many lives. Those who survived were barely able to bring back enough fish to make the risk worth it. And trading via the sea? Only a fool would attempt such a thing.”
Benjamin scratched his chin. Somehow, in all his years in Holdgate, he’d never asked Jarvi for details about the time following the Mad Days. He supposed he’d been too busy adjusting to the culture to worry about its past. “So, what happened?”
“A man came from the south. A man of great power.” Jarvi turned back to the window and paused a moment before continuing. “I wasn’t here when it happened, so this is all second hand. I was one of those fools trying to travel to other places to trade. When I returned from my voyage, Holdgate had changed.”
“How so?” Benjamin asked.
“This man had taken pity on our pathetic town. He’d taught a handful of young people the basics of calming the sea. He didn’t stay long. I’m told he headed east across the mountains after a few short months with us, but it was enough. Those young people began to practice, to hone and develop their skills beyond what he’d taught them, and they became the first Storm Callers.”
Benjamin considered the story, trying to fit the timeline together in his mind. He’d grown up hearing stories about the Founder, the man who’d ended the Age of Madness and brought magic to Arcadia. Could this mysterious man be the same person?
It hardly mattered now. They had more pressing matters to discuss. “As interesting as this is, Jarvi, I hardly see how this pertains to our current situation.”
Jarvi let out a surprised laugh. “My friend, it has everything to do with our situation!”
Benjamin tilted his head. “You’re going to have to explain that.”
Jarvi held up a hand. “My apologies, I’m getting ahead of myself. Allow me to explain. Think about the Storm Callers. They’ve only been around for, what, forty years? And you heard stories of the Storm Raiders as a boy. That means some of the original Storm Callers may not have been as kind as we in Holdgate have been led to believe. In fact, it wasn’t long after the first Storm Callers showed up that we first started having trouble with the Barskall.”
Benjamin leaned forward and rubbed his chin. “Wait. Are you saying Storm Callers have been working with the Barskall since the beginning?”
Jarvi shook his head slowly. “No. It doesn’t track. There would be too many people involved. It would have gotten out by now. But what if there was a small group? A few. Maybe even a handful. When I traveled in my younger days, I heard tales of Storm Raiders from all corners of Irth. I’m starting to think this might be bigger than a single traitor working with the Barskall. There could be a whole group of them, and they may have been working with the Barskall for many years.”
The blood drained from Benjamin’s face. “If that’s true, Abbey might be in more danger than we originally thought.”
Jarvi nodded grimly. “The best thing we can do for her is to figure out what these so-called Storm Raiders are up to, find proof, and take it to the Magistrate. And we need to do it quickly.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tor scowled as the small boat headed for the shore. “Can’t we go any faster? I want to get this over with.”
Dahlia gave him an indulgent smile. “Patience, darling. We’ll be there soon.”
That sentiment didn’t make him feel any better.
They were headed back to the city of Bode, the last place he wanted to be. But he didn’t have a choice. He’d promised Eril, the Barskall chief, he’d visit him this morning. Now, he, Dahlia, and his first mate were all heading toward shore to attend a pointless meeting instead of doing something useful.
Like finding the fugitive girl.
It still made him furious that she’d slipped away so easily. He didn’t know what was worse—that she’d had the gall to try, or that he’d been foolish enough to give her a chance to succeed. He was used to everyone in Holdgate giving unquestioning respect to Tor the Storm Captain and everyone outside Holdgate cowering in fear of Tor the Storm Raider. It hadn’t crossed his mind that the captain, Storm Caller, and first mate of the lowly ship, The Foggy Day, would conspire to trick him, especially for the sake of a fugitive Arcadian girl. It boggled his mind.
Now, he was left with the task of not only tracking down the girl and her cohorts, but also deciding what to do with the ship and crew who’d harbored her. Their deaths would be difficult to explain, but not impossible. He could arrange to have the ship sink. In fact, he could blame their rookie Storm Caller, assuming Summer Wind and High Tide caught him before he made it back to Holdgate.
Still, Tor preferred to handle this as peacefully as possible. Maybe he could convince Captain Roy of the wisdom of Storm Raiding. It would be nice to have another allied ship he could trust, even if it was a less than impressive one. From what he’d seen of Captain Roy so far, he didn’t hold out much hope. The man didn’t seem to have the spine for real sea work. But Tor wasn’t ready to give up yet.
The boat touched against the dock, and Randall tied a line to secure it. The three of them stepped out onto the dock and made their way through the city.
The streets were silent, even though it was the middle of the morning. The survivors of the previous night’s raid were undoubtedly cowering in their homes, probably thanking the sea that their homes were still standing, unlike those of many of their neighbors. A few Barskall Warriors wandered the streets, most looking considerably less fierce than they had the previous night now that their seiderdrek had worn off. It would have been difficult to tell Barskall from Bodeman this morning.
Tor held a sleeve to his nose as he walked. As much as he enjoyed raiding, he didn’t enjoy the stench of the fires the following day. It seemed gross by sunlight, and it set his stomach on edge.
Eril hadn’t told Tor where he’d be setting up his headquarters, but he hadn’t needed to. Tor had been working with the man long enough to know he’d claim the largest building in the city. In this case, it was an ancient church from long before the Mad Days. Somehow, it had survived the many strange times Irth had been through, including the fires of the previous evening.
The Barskall Warriors standing guard outside the church quickly led Tor, Dahlia, and Randall into the building and to their master. He was sitting in a massive chair at the front of the old house of religion.
He bellowed a greeting as soon as he saw them, and it echoed through the vast hall. “Captain Tor! Another successful raid.”
As always, there was an edge of madness in his voice, something that screamed unhinged. Unlike his Warriors, Eril never fully came down off his potions. He couldn’t afford to if he wanted to keep his role as chief. Any one of his men would kill him at the first opportunity.
Tor marched to the front of the church and clapped Eril on the arm. “Indeed. Your men performed admirably as always.”
A serious look crossed Eril’s face. “Of course, they did. Are you implying you thought they wouldn’t?” He glared at Tor for a moment, then burst out in uproarious laughter, as if he’d just told the world’s funniest joke.
Tor exchanged a glance with Dahlia. It was always a bit dicey visiting Eril. When he was on his potions—and he always was—his moods were beyond unpredictable.
Eril abruptly stopped laughing, and his eyes narrowed. “What’s this my men have been telling me? Summer Wind and High Tide sailed out this morning?”
Tor cleared his throat. He really didn’t want to get into this, but he didn’t see a way around it. “Ah, yes. It turns out there was a fugitive aboard our fourth ship. She’s wanted for murder. She escaped in the night, taking The Foggy Day’s Storm Caller and first mate with her. I fear she may be headed back to Holdgate to spread, well, uncomfortable rumors. I sent the other two ships after her.”
Eril let out a grunt Tor interpreted as thoughtful. “Hmm. I assume it would not be good for our current a
rrangement if she were to make it back to Holdgate alive?”
Tor nodded. “You assume correctly.”
Eril slammed his hand down on the arm of his massive chair. “Then it’s settled. My men and I will help you track down this fugitive.”
****
Abbey trudged through the mud, making her way further up the mountain. Dustin was lagging behind her a bit, and Syd was a good thirty yards ahead. Every time Abbey looked up, that woman seemed to gain even more of a lead on her. For a sailor, she certainly was a good mountain climber.
When Abbey had questioned her on it, Syd had simply said, “Sailing isn’t all scrubbing bulkheads. We often have to go inland.”
An icy wind licked Abbey’s face, and she frowned “You know,” she called back over her shoulder, “it would be really great if we had someone who could control the weather. Imagine if that person could just, I don’t know, make the sunshine brighter, or make the cold ass wind that’s been hitting me in the face for the last twenty minutes disappear.”
Dustin’s voice was strained when he answered. Unlike Syd, his voyages on the stormships apparently hadn’t included a lot of mountain climbing. “Two things. First, that’s not how Storm Calling works. I don’t control the weather. I harness it. I shape it. It’s like riding a horse. You have to act like you’re the boss and hope the horse doesn’t realize he outweighs you by eight hundred pounds and can throw you off whenever he damn well pleases.”
It seemed like a semantic difference to Abbey, but whatever. Dustin had spent a decade learning Storm Calling. It only made sense he’d be a bit particular about it. “What’s the other thing?”
Dustin grunted with effort as he climbed a particularly steep section. “You know the other thing. Storm Callers can’t use their magic if they’re not touching seawater.”
“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard,” Abbey said.
“Look at it this way. You have to stand near a flame to feel its heat, right? It’s the same way with storm magic. It comes from the sea, so you have to be near the source to use it.”
