by PT Hylton
“Practice. Also, I helped the design the place.”
Good as his word, Gideon led them through parts of the palace that appeared devoid of life. Abbey resisted the urge to relax; instead, she allowed herself to consider the fight that was almost certainly waiting for them in the throne room.
After walking down three more hallways and through two more Gideon-created doors they stopped, and the Stone Shaper pointed to a wall.
“This is it.” Even though they were alone in the hallway, he spoke softly. “We’ll come through in the corner of the room behind the throne. I’ll create a door down low, and with any luck they won’t notice the hole until we’re already coming through it. But we’ll have to move fast.”
They’d already planned their attack on the throne room, splitting the room into sections. Each of them would enter from a different angle, clearing the room. Abbey would head straight for the throne.
“We’ve been able to avoid the enemy so far,” she said. “That ends now. Go for killing blows, be smart, and watch each other’s backs. When you’re ready, Gideon.”
Gideon didn’t hesitate. He crouched low and touched the wall. An opening appeared near the floor and blossomed upward. When it was three feet high, he stepped aside.
Abbey gripped her sword and ducked through the opening.
As she entered the throne room, she quickly registered the guards standing at various points in the room. They were all gawking at her dumbly.
She sprinted toward the throne. That would leave her four friends to take out ten guards on their own, so it was a risky move, but taking the leader out of the equation was worth it. This was the plan, and she was going to stick to it.
As she ran, a tall red-haired guard with a bushy beard raced to meet her. Good. That was one Stone Shaper her friends didn’t have to deal with.
The guard raised his stone to strike, but she was ready for him. She brought her sword down hard on his wrist, channeling magic to give it a little extra weight. The man cried out as her sword bit into his flesh and his hand fell to the ground. She buried the blade in his chest, and his body joined his severed appendage.
Elliot, Fannar, Hekla, and Gideon raced past her and attacked the guards.
Hekla surprised the first guard with her speed, reaching him and striking before he could react. Elliot used his twin swords brilliantly, attacking the hand holding the stone with one while the other struck at the mass of the body. Fannar worked his way in close, hacking and slashing with his seax.
Gideon reached a guard just as he was raising his stone, and he put his hand on it. He transformed the man’s stone, turning it into a spike and driving it through the guard’s own hand.
As for Abbey, her focus was on the throne. She ran to it and pressed her sword to Magnus’ throat. “Hands in the air. I don’t want you touching stone.”
Magnus stared back at her wide-eyed. He slowly raised his hands, letting a stone clatter to the floor.
“Tell your men to stop fighting, or lose your head.”
Magnus cleared his throat. “Stop. Stop fighting!”
It took a moment, but the guards complied, lowering their weapons.
“Good,” Abbey said. “Now tell me where Dahlia is.”
Magnus smiled, but there was only malice in the expression. “The damn Queen of Storms. That’s what this is about? She told me you’d come back. She told me, but I didn’t believe her. I figured there was no way you’d be that stupid. I stand corrected.”
Abbey pressed a little harder with the blade, and a bead of blood appeared on the chief’s neck around the tip of the sword. “Where is she?”
“Your friends will find out soon enough. In the meantime, you have problems of your own.”
Abbey grimaced. “What are you talking about? I have a sword to your throat.”
Now there was glee in Magnus’ smile. “Two things. First, look up.”
She risked a glance at the ceiling, and what she saw made her gasp. There were eight holes in the ceiling, each framing two Stone Shapers glaring down at them.
“Second thing,” Magnus said. “My throne is made of stone, and the skin of my neck is in contact with it.”
A stone column shot out of the throne. Abbey got her sword up in time protect her face, but it knocked her backward hard.
As she was falling, she saw more than a dozen Stone Shapers leaping through the holes in the ceiling into the throne room.
****
Dustin stood near the harbor on a street in Ammaas, calling fog and watching the city around him burn.
The odd thing, the thing that made the situation so surreal, was that none of the buildings were on fire. These fires would likely do no lasting damage to the city. It was the goods inside the stores and in wagons that were alight.
And yet, the panic in the streets was the same as it would be in any other city. Perhaps the reaction to fire was embedded deeply in humans. Perhaps this was just the way people responded to it, regardless of whether it was justified.
“If we get through this whole raid without me getting to stab anybody, I’m gonna be pissed,” Olaf declared.
Clemens laughed. “Dustin picked us for his personal guard for one reason. We’re the best. Consider it an honor.”
“It’ll be an honor if we get to actually do something.”
Dustin did his best to shut them out. Not that he was doing much calling at the moment; he’d brought the fog down, but Viktor and his Barskall Storm Callers—now standing knee-deep in the harbor—were maintaining it. Dustin had to be ready for anything else. Syd was running point on this mission. If there was trouble in a particular area, she would let him know and he would send help in the form of a devastating blast of wind, a torrential downpour, or some other form of weather-related pain.
But for now, things were going well. He had time to consider how Abbey and her team were doing in the palace. No doubt they were having a tougher time of it than the raiders running through the city.
Olaf squinted into the darkness of the street in front of them. “Wait, what’s—”
That was as far as he got before the Stone Shapers struck.
A stone wall sprang from the road on either side of Dustin, cutting him off from his friends. It ran far enough down the street that he couldn’t see its end.
Two men ran into sight and set something in the center of the road twenty feet in front of Dustin, and then quickly retreated.
Another figure appeared. He heard a sloshing noise as the figure stepped into the container the men had set in the road.
“You’re a pretender,” the figure said.
Dustin immediately recognized the voice and a chill went through him, starting at the base of his spine and running up to the center of his brain.
Dahlia.
“You figured out one trick. Admittedly it’s an impressive one. Stormcalling without seawater? It’s never been done before, and somehow I suspect you figured it out with the help of that Arcadian bitch.”
Dustin’s mind spun. Now was his chance. If she kept talking, he could take her out. His friends were on the other side of that stone wall, but he had to trust them to take care of themselves against the Stone Shapers. He needed to concentrate on Dahlia—she was the whole reason they were here.
“Without that one trick you’re nothing,” Dahlia said. She was taunting him, trying to throw him off his game. He had to stay focused. “You’re just a below-average, barely-passed-his-testing Storm Caller. I bet your bald captain and the Arcadian bitch laugh about you when you’re not there. About your lack of spine.”
Dustin felt his anger rising, but he didn’t fight it. Anger could be useful in stormcalling.
“I kicked your ass in Holdgate,” she spat. “I kicked your ass in Barskall. And I’m going to kick your ass now.”
He could have debated any of those facts, but instead he focused. He concentrated on the thing he and Viktor had been talking about ever since the battle at the Farrow Islands.
&nb
sp; Dahlia cackled, and a massive gust of wind slammed into Dustin. He was ready for it though, his feet planted and his grip strong on his staff.
His focus did not waiver.
Rain began to fall on him so hard that each drop felt like the stab of a tiny knife. He pushed it out of his mind.
In the days after the battle in the Farrow Islands, Viktor had wondered aloud to Dustin why there weren’t more aggressive forms of storm magic. Sure, there was lightning, but that was inaccurate. Other than that, what was there? Wind? Waves? Powerful, yes. But Viktor and Dustin both felt they could do better, especially for battles on land rather than at sea.
The problem in Dustin’s mind was that stormcalling had been developed specifically to aid the swift passage of ships. That meant Dustin’s training—and the training of all Holdgate Storm Callers—had left out more aggressive applications.
He gripped his staff hard as the wind and rain battered him. He’d only get one chance at this, so he had to do it right. The anger churning inside him was fuel for his magic, one he’d used ever since his first day as an apprentice.
But Dahlia had anger too.
Dustin needed something else, and in that moment, he felt it bubbling up. Love for his friends. For Olaf and Clemens, who he knew were fighting for him on the other side of that stone wall. For Syd and Benjamin, who were leading the raid into the city. And for Abbey, fearless Abbey, who was taking the fight to the heart of the Stone Shapers’ palace.
The love twined with the anger, fueling him in a way he’d never experienced. And he used it. He used it just as he and Viktor had discussed.
The sound of something solid hitting the street around Dahlia reached him, and the wind blasting against him waivered. That was all the encouragement he needed. He pushed harder.
Dahlia cried out as the first of the hail hit her.
He concentrated, making the balls of ice larger in his mind and aiming them at her exact location.
Hail struck her, and she shrieked again. And again. And again.
He didn’t let up. He put everything he had into his assault.
“Another trick!” she screamed. “I’ll destroy you.”
He kept pushing harder, calling heavier hail. He lost himself to the stormcalling.
After a time that might have been a minute or might have been ten, he heard a splashing noise. Dahlia was stepping out of the tub of water. Then he heard the rapid sound of feet hitting the pavement as she ran away.
For a moment he considered chasing her, but he immediately realized that would mean abandoning his crew. They were counting on him to aid their retreat when the time came.
Dahlia had escaped, but Dustin couldn’t keep the smile off his face.
He’d done it. He’d defeated Dahlia.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Five versus twenty. Those were the odds as Abbey reckoned them. It was a rough estimate, considering that many of her opponents were still coming through the holes in the ceiling.
Giving up was not an option—there was too much at stake. If they surrendered, not only would they die but Dahlia would be free to continue traveling the world, bringing misery and suffering wherever she went.
Abbey drew a deep breath, and for a moment everything seemed to move in slow motion.
She saw Magnus’ throne quivering as he began to shape it into some sort of monstrous weapon.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fannar take something from his belt and put it to his lips.
Elliot and Hekla had raised their swords, ready to swing at the falling Stone Shapers. Gideon was running toward his brother’s throne.
The crash of the first Stone Shaper’s feet hitting the floor roused Abbey from her strange hyper-focused state, and things sped up again.
“Abbey!” Gideon called. “I’ve got Magnus. Kill the rest of these guys.”
She sprang to her feet. “My pleasure.”
Driving her sword through the chest of the nearest man, she quickly appraised things. Elliot and Hekla were in the thick of it, and another group of five Stone Shapers was approaching them in a tight formation.
She pulled her sword out of the man in front of her, grabbed him by the arm, and reduced his weight. She then lifted him over her head and charged the five Stone Shapers. She swung the body at them, letting go of it—thus returning it to its natural weight—just as it struck the first man.
The sudden impact bowled the five men over and Abbey quickly went to work, attacking them with her sword before they could recover.
After she’d finished them off, she spun and saw another man dashing toward her. The stone in his right hand seemed to be made of liquid as tendrils reached through the air toward Abbey. She crouched under the tendrils and went for his legs, taking him down with one hard cut. When he landed on his back, she completed the job.
There was no time to consider the devastation she’d just caused, taking down seven men in less than a minute. Her friends were still in danger.
She risked a quick glance around the room. Gideon was standing in front of the throne, his hands on either side of it. The stone chair was quivering wildly, but it wasn’t changing shape. Sweat stood out on both Gideon’s and Magnus’ foreheads.
Hekla and Elliot stood back-to-back, slashing at any Stone Shaper foolish enough to step into sword-range. They batted aside stone attacks and struck, quickly bringing down two opponents.
An inhuman howl of rage rang out from the far corner of the room. She spun toward it and saw Fannar taking on two Stone Shapers. He was moving more quickly than Abbey had ever seen him do, and his fighting style was completely different than usual. Instead of his signature precise strikes to his opponent's strategic weaknesses, he was hacking and slashing wildly. His seax was constantly in motion.
He pivoted to strike another Stone Shaper, and Abbey caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were solid brown.
Seiderdrek. That was what Fannar had raised to his lips before the fight.
There was no time to think about it. She dodged the stone spike aimed at her face and quickly dropped another Stone Shaper.
She looked around; there were only seven Stone Shapers left. Elliot struck with his twin swords, making it six.
Fannar mowed through two more in his feral rage, and there were four.
A few moments later, none of the Stone Shapers were left standing. None but Gideon and Magnus, who were still locked in their mental battle for control of the throne.
Sweat poured down their faces and their eyes were locked on each other as if they couldn’t move them.
“I have him,” Gideon grunted, his voice strained. “Not sure for how much longer. Somebody lend a hand?”
Elliot marched toward the throne. “Magnus, for what you did to Ragnar, what you did to the people of Gren, and what you tried to do to me, here is your reward.”
The Stone Shaper chief had just enough time to let out a grunt of protest before Elliot sank both his swords into his heart.
Gideon stumbled backwards as the mental battle dissolved. Abbey steadied him, then put a hand on his shoulder.
“You okay?” she asked. The man had been a tyrant, but he was still Gideon’s brother.
Gideon nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on Magnus’ body. “He deserved that. After everything he’s done, the people he’s hurt, this was justice.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t hurt,” Abbey said.
Gideon turned away. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got a heart of stone.”
Abbey gave him a moment, but only a moment. Then she said, “We have to go. When I asked Magnus where Dahlia was, he said, ‘Your friends will find out soon.’ That leads me to believe she’s not in the palace.”
“We have to get back to the ship,” Elliot said.
“Fannar, you good to go?” Abbey called.
The Barskall stood panting, his seax dangling from his hand. His only response was a growl.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She turned to Gideon. “Get us out
of here. Dahlia is not getting away from us that easily.”
****
Dustin couldn’t see Olaf, but he could certainly hear him.
“Come on, you stony bastards! Taste my iron. Feel the sting of my blade! You’ll be telling your grandchildren the story of how you were killed by the great Storm Raider Olaf!”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Clemens called over the sounds of battle. “How can they tell their grandchildren something if they’re dead?”
“It’s an analogy, dummy.”
There was a brief silence during which they heard only the thud of iron weapons against stone.
Then Clemens said, “I don’t think you understand what an analogy is.”
Dustin heard their conversation, but he was cut off from the two men by the ten-foot wall the Stone Shapers had raised before Dahlia attacked.
That was okay with him. He needed to focus, because there was only one thought burning through his mind. There is no way Dahlia is escaping again.
She’d escaped the battle in Holdgate. She’d escaped The Foggy Day. And now she was on the verge of escaping again. Dustin would not have it.
At the same time, he couldn’t chase her through the streets of Ammaas, streets she almost certainly knew better than he did. The Foggy Day was counting on him to help cover their escape if things got dicey, and it would be beyond irresponsible to abandon them.
He’d watched Dahlia run down the road that stretched in front of him, and he knew she’d almost certainly head back to the palace. She was powerless without the tub of seawater she’d left in the middle of the street, and she’d want someone to protect her.
Dustin knew the general route from here to the palace. He closed his eyes and channeled the storm magic. This would take total focus. He pushed away the sounds of the battle raging just beyond the wall and began the push-and-pull conversation with nature that was storm magic.
He exhaled and tried to relax every muscle in his body. He inhaled, and power filled him. Then he went to work.
He channeled lightning.
