by PT Hylton
The three of them went above deck and found that the crew of The Foggy Day had things well in hand. Most of the Thunderclap men were either tumbling over the rail or lying on the deck with a fatal case of sword wounds.
Dustin raced to the prow of the ship and squinted over at Thunderclap. He couldn’t make out much on the deck of the other ship, but there was certainly a lot of movement. Then, suddenly the mast was engulfed in flames as the limp mainsail caught fire.
“Oh, hell yeah,” Dustin said. Abbey had done it.
Then, he saw her. She was launching herself over the prow and into the air. Her leap was impressive, inhuman even, but it wasn’t far enough. If she landed too close to Thunderclap, the crew would follow her over the edge and haul her back—or haul her under.
Dustin quickly called a blast of wind. It hit Abbey in the back, giving her an extra boost to her forward momentum. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. She landed halfway between the ships and then started swimming like mad toward The Foggy Day.
Syd immediately called out to the crew. “Woman approaching port side. Pull her up!”
Dustin looked around the deck, and he was amazed at how much the crew had accomplished in just a few minutes. They moved like a single being, everyone performing their tasks wordlessly, knowing exactly what they needed to do to prepare the ship.
On the port side, two men hauled Abbey over the railing. She collapsed onto the deck in a wet puddle.
Dustin raced over. “Abbey! You okay?”
Her hair was hanging in her face as she slowly looked up at him, a wide smile on her face. “How badass was that?”
Dustin grinned back. “Very.” He turned and called to Captain Roy. “How we looking, captain?”
“The crew’s going for a record here, but we’re not there yet. Five more minutes.”
Syd stared at Thunderclap, her eyes suddenly wide. “I don’t think we have five minutes. Look.”
The Thunderclap’s mast was aflame, and the crew was running around the deck, frantically trying to put it out.
And at the bow of the ship stood Dahlia, gripping her staff, her eyes aglow.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Dustin walked toward his place at the prow of the ship. Abbey followed close behind him. He was about to face off against Dahlia. The greatest Storm Caller in Holdgate. The woman even his mentor, Harald, had openly feared. The woman whose skills had helped end any doubt as to which ship was the greatest in the Holdgate fleet.
Tor was the most respected person in Holdgate, but Dahlia was the most feared.
Her voice came across the water, carried by the wind. It sounded like she was barely speaking above a whisper, yet it was perfectly understandable by every man and woman aboard The Foggy Day.
“Young Storm Caller. Your Arcadian friend has hurt my ship.”
Dustin and Abbey exchanged a worried glance.
“How’s she doing that with her voice?” Abbey asked.
Dustin shook his head. “I have no idea.”
Dahlia’s voice sounded almost sweet when she spoke again. “Face me, young Storm Caller. Try yourself against me. Let’s see if you’re worthy of your cloak and your staff. Let’s see if you’re worthy to sail in my sea.”
Abbey grabbed his arm. “Don’t take the bait. You don’t have to beat her. You just have to get us out of here. That’s the priority.”
The ship began swaying as the sea around them grew angry.
“Easier said than done,” Dustin said.
“Hey, look at me.”
Dustin turned to face her. There was a steely resolution in her eyes.
“Everybody thinks Dahlia’s hot shit, but only one of you can Storm Call on land. And it ain’t her. Get us the hell out of here.”
Dustin smiled “I think I’ll do just that.”
He stepped to the prow and set his staff in the seawater. Even though he didn’t need the water, it was still useful to him. There was comfort in the familiarity, and the magic seemed to submit to him even easier with it.
He called over his shoulder to Abbey. “Check with Captain Roy and let me know when we’re ready to go.”
“You got it.”
He heard her feet on the deck boards as she dashed away. He looked up at Dahlia and saw her eyes were fixed on him, a slight smile on her face as if she were unaware of the fires blazing behind her.
She shut her eyes for the briefest of moments—little more than a blink, really— and water began to pour from the heavens. One moment, the skies were clear; the next, a storm raged above them. The downpour made what Dustin had done in the mountain village seem like a gentle shower.
Dustin gripped his staff, willing himself not to be intimidated by the awesome display. He had tricks of his own. If she wanted water, he was more than happy to give it to her.
He focused his mind on the sea, and a massive wave swelled near Thunderclap. It rushed at the ship and crashed into it, sending the stormship bobbing.
Dustin heard shouts of surprise from the crew on the deck of Thunderclap, but Dahlia was unfazed. She let out an eerie laugh that somehow sounded like the sea itself, and the sky crackled with lightning.
She spoke again in her soft voice that somehow carried across the water. “Thunderclap has survived bigger waves on the open sea than that, Storm Caller. I sense you are powerful, but you clearly have no idea how to use that power. Allow me to demonstrate.”
He felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Abbey standing there.
“Roy says we’re ready.”
“Thank the sea.” Dustin closed his eyes and called down the wind. It filled The Foggy Day’s sails, and the ship began to glide away from Thunderclap. Dustin knew Dahlia couldn’t hear him, but he couldn’t help replying. “Sorry. I’ll have to see your awesome demonstration of power another time.
Suddenly the wind stopped.
The smile melted from Dustin’s face.
Abbey cursed softly. “She’s a real bitch, isn’t she?”
“Pretty much.” But Dustin wasn’t going to give up that easily. He might not have experience battling other Storm Callers, and he might not be able to throw his voice across the water, but there was one thing Dustin was good at: he could call the winds and push a ship across open water. If she wanted to put him to the test on that, he was more than up for the challenge.
He closed his eyes and concentrated. When he gripped the power in the sea, it felt different than it usually did. More slippery, as if he might lose his hold on it at any moment. It was because she was trying to use it, too, he realized. He gripped down hard, refusing to let go. He would use this power to fill the sails of The Foggy Day, and no one was going to stop him.
He kept his eyes closed for what seemed like hours. He wasn’t making up much ground, but he wasn’t losing any, either. Standing toe to toe with Dahlia, and not losing? He’d never thought it possible. Granted, he wasn’t winning, but against Dahlia, a draw was a win of sorts.
No. That wasn’t true. There was more at stake here than just his pride. It didn’t matter if he was facing Dahlia, or a rookie apprentice, or the entire brotherhood of Storm Callers. He had to win this. If he didn’t, Holdgate would never know the truth. Abbey’s father would remain in jail and would probably be executed. Tor and Dahlia would continue their Storm Raiding, even as everyone back home thought of them as heroes. Worst of all, people in every coastal village between here and Lost Isles would continue to live in fear of the day the Storm Raiders would decide it was time to come in the night and take everything they had, up to and possibly including their lives.
Dustin couldn’t allow that to happen. He wouldn’t. This would be his true Testing. Could he do what was required of him when it really mattered?
He dug deeper than he ever had before and gathered the magic.
****
Abbey hovered near Dustin as the rain pounded down on them, watching the two Storm Callers do battle.
They couldn’t have looked more different. Dustin was the
picture of intense concentration. His eyes were squeezed shut, and a blueish-green glow seeped out between his eyelids. The muscles on his arms stood out as he gripped his staff, and his teeth were bared.
Abbey probably wouldn’t have been able to see Dahlia through the driving rain if not for the bluish-green light pouring from her open eyes and bathing her in light. From this distance, she looked perfectly relaxed. Her golden hair hung wet around her shoulders, and a slight smile played on her face.
It was infuriating. Here Dustin was, fighting for their escape with all his might, and there was nothing Abbey could do to help.
She turned to look around at The Foggy Day and saw that all three sails hung limply.
One of the crew, the tall man Abbey had heard Syd call Edgar said to her, “Hey, what’s going on. Why doesn’t the Storm Caller do something?”
Abbey practically snarled at him. “He is doing something, you idiot. He’s fighting her. If it weren’t for him, she’d probably have torn us to shreds by now.”
Edgar raised a skeptical eyebrow and looked past her, toward the other ship. “Nothing’s happening.”
“That’s because he’s not losing!”
She turned back to Dustin, wishing again there was something she could do. She supposed she could try throwing a fireball at Dahlia, but there was no way she could get it that far. And even if she could, this torrent of rain would probably put it out before it reached her.
Dahlia’s voice filled the air again. Last time, Abbey had been too far away to see Dahlia as she spoke, but now she could see the Storm Caller’s lips moving.
“Give up, young Storm Caller. If you continue this foolishness, you may end up with a broken mind. A person can only handle so much magic, and then they burn out. I know where my limits are. Do you know yours?”
Dustin didn’t respond. The strain was clear on his face.
Abbey believed there was truth to Dahlia’s words. Her father had said much the same thing. Part of her wanted to stop Dustin, to protect him, but she knew that was foolish. The only way he’d stop would be if she physically forced him to, and he’d hate her for it.
Abbey squinted at Thunderclap. There were men on the deck swinging ropes. What were they doing?
Suddenly, she recognized the objects they were holding. She’d used one herself to board Thunderclap not long ago.
She spun and scanned the deck of her own ship. When she saw Syd, she ran to her.
“They’re going to try to board!”
Syd shook her head. “In this heavy rain? That would be crazy. There’s no way.”
“All right, then you give me another explanation for why they are preparing to throw hooks at our ship.”
Syd paused, then ran to the rail to see for herself. When she saw the other crew preparing their hooks, she quivered with anger. “What the hell? Their damn ship’s on fire, and they’re worried about trying to hook us?” They turned to address the crew. “Man the rails! Any hooks catch us, you cut their ropes and do it quickly!”
The crew rushed to their places along the perimeter of the ship.
Syd nodded toward Dustin. “Is he going to be able to get us out of here? If not, we’re probably looking at a fight-to-the-death type situation.”
“I don’t know. She’s the best Storm Caller in the fleet, right?”
“She certainly seems to think so.” Syd shook her head. “Shame she made it above deck.”
“I lit a fire outside her door just like we planned.”
Syd clapped her on the shoulder. “Welcome to the world of war, kid. Plans never work out quite like you expect them to. If you’re even right half the time, you’re a genius warrior. Opponents are never as predictable as we want them to be.You think the enemy’s going to pull, they push. You think they’re going to push; they end up pulling.”
Abbey looked up suddenly. “Holy shit. That’s it.”
Syd raised an eyebrow. “Wait, what?”
Abbey didn’t have time to answer. She looked back at Thunderclap. The fire on the mainsail was out now, and the other two sails were raised. They were preparing to give chase as best they could in the unlikely event The Foggy Day managed to get away.
She grabbed Dustin by the shoulders. “Dustin, listen to me.”
He answered through gritted teeth, his eyes still pressed shut. “Not… now…” His voice was barely discernible. He was near the breaking point; Abbey was sure of it.
She gave him a gentle shake. “No, listen! You two are having a battle of strength. It’s like you’re both pulling a rope to see who can yank the other one toward them, right? But you don’t have to play her game. Stop pulling the wind toward us. Push it at her!”
Dustin opened his eyes just a sliver. Then he nodded and closed them again. He took a deep breath and groaned in effort.
A massive gust of wind blasted out away from The Foggy Day and against Thunderclap. Its two remaining sails filled, and the ship began to move backward, away from The Foggy Day.
Dahlia toppled over, falling to the deck as the unexpected wind slammed against her.
Dustin kept pushing, and now a large wave joined the wind in moving Thunderclap toward the city of Bode.
Abbey squinted at the other ship. She could just barely see the people on the deck, and she saw Dahlia struggling to her feet.
“Now!” Abbey yelled. “Go!”
Dustin channeled the wind, turning it back at The Foggy Day. The mainsail filled with wind and a cheer went up among the crew.
They moved like the wind itself across the water, away from Bode and out of Thunderclap’s reach.
The flagship of Holdgate might have been faster, but with its mainsail destroyed, there was no way it could catch The Foggy Day.
Rain still poured down on them for the next twenty minutes, and a few bolts of lightning hit the water in their vicinity. But they were too far away for Dahlia to wield her storms against them with any real accuracy.
They’d done it. They’d lost Thunderclap, and they were heading back to Holdgate.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jarvi and Benjamin were waiting in the Magistrate’s sitting room when he got up that morning. He walked down stairs and headed for the kitchen, intending to cook himself a simple breakfast of eggs over his fire when he saw the two men sitting in his living room and froze.
It only took him a moment to recognize them. When he did, he realized running would be useless. Benjamin was nearly as quick as he was strong—he’d proven that the only year he’d participated in the festival games. The Magistrate’s knee wasn’t what it once had been. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it to the door before the blacksmith tackled him, and the Magistrate had a policy of avoiding being tackled whenever possible.
So, instead of running, he walked over sat down with the men. Perhaps his conversational skills could save his life, even if his old legs could not.
The men said nothing as he joined them. They just watched him, their eyes cool, betraying nothing.
Jarvi held a metal rod with a blue glow at the end that piqued the Magistrate’s curiosity, but he figured now wasn’t the best time to ask about it.
Instead, he said, “Master Jarvi, there was some debate among the Storm Captains as to whether you were involved in helping to free our murderous Arcadian friend.”
Jarvi smiled gamely. “Is that so?”
The Magistrate nodded. “A few of the captains, mostly the older ones who knew you back in your wilder days, joined me in the belief that you were definitely involved. The younger captains disagreed. They pointed out that you’re a wealthy man. A respected man, even if you are a bit of a recluse. You’d have no reason to risk it all to help a criminal. Or so they said.”
Jarvi chuckled. “And what did you say?”
The Magistrate leaned forward and looked Jarvi in the eye. “I told them these things are rarely motivated by money. So, tell me, Master Jarvi. What did motivate you to help Benjamin?”
Jarvi thought for a moment, t
hen answered with one word. “Truth.”
The Magistrate didn’t respond to that. He didn’t know how. Instead, he turned to Benjamin.
After another moment, the blacksmith finally spoke. “Magistrate, I’m very sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”
The Magistrate frowned. How dare this man—the very man who’d taken his son from him—offer his condolences. “Perhaps in Arcadia, you rend your clothes and weep for days when the inevitable happens. Here, we’re made of stronger stuff. My son is dead. Nothing can change that. I remember him each time I look at the sea, but I move on. I seek the better things life has to offer. Like justice.”
“All the same,” Benjamin said, “you have my sympathies. You also have my word that I had nothing to do with Bronson’s death. I was home, asleep in bed when the vile murderer struck.”
The Magistrate let out a soft chuckle. “So, that’s what this is? You’ve realized a life on the run isn’t so appealing, and you’ve come to convince me of your innocence.”
Jarvi shook his head. “We seek justice, same as you claim to. The real question, Magistrate, is whether you actually want to find out what happened to your son. Or are you satisfied with the easy answer, even though it’s wrong?”
The Magistrate felt the anger boiling up in him. These two men, one an escaped prisoner, dared to break into his home and tell him about justice? He’d see them strung up in the center of town until the birds had devoured their entrails.
But first, he needed to survive this conversation. “Gentlemen, a claim like that would require rock-solid evidence.”
“We don’t have any,” Benjamin said quickly.
The Magistrate chuckled again. Of course, they didn’t. That would require their claims to have a basis in truth. “Well, at least you’re honest.”
The blacksmith held up a finger, signaling he wasn’t finished. “We may not have rock-solid evidence, but we do have evidence. Taken alone, maybe none of it would sway you. But all together? If you really are seeking justice, I think you’ll want to look more deeply into the matter.”
