by PT Hylton
Syd stepped forward. “There will be plenty of time to reminisce about the past, but maybe we should do it with the whole council. We have an important matter to discuss.”
Otto put a finger to his lip, as if considering the matter. “Hmm, the whole council? I wish it were that easy, but these are busy men and women. As much as they’d love to speak with you, they can’t just drop everything with no warning. I’m the council’s representative today, authorized to speak for it. We take turns handling these matters, you see.”
Syd opened her mouth to respond, but Jarvi cut her off.
“I certainly understand that, Otto,” he replied. “Very sensible. But you haven’t met the third member of our party.” He gestured to Benjamin. “May I present Benjamin of Arcadia, a graduate of the Arcadian Academy and an expert in physical magic?”
This time the surprise in Otto’s eyes was genuine. “I see. A graduate of the Arcadian Academy, you say?” He thought for a moment, then turned to Syd. “Captain, I believe we can make a procedural exception for this important matter. Please excuse me for a few moments while I gather the council.”
***
Abbey handled the lines under Clemens’ barked orders as the ship approached the island. Thankfully, it appeared that Clemens was quick to get past their fight. It seemed he was one of those strange sailors who didn’t feel he’d gotten to know someone until he’d come to blows with them.
“Besides,” he’d told her, clapping her on the shoulder, “it’s bad luck to have a voyage without at least one fist fight. The sea likes a little blood.”
Abbey had just shaken her head, but maybe there was something to his theory. After all, she’d gotten along much better with Olaf since the day she’d kicked his ass. Hopefully it would be the same with Clemens.
A lighthouse on the island ahead flashed a series of signals at them, and Captain Roy nodded toward Hollis, the sailor charged with handling ship-to-ship and ship-to-land communication. “Tell them we’re here to support the Storm Wall.” He paused. “Better tell them I’m the captain of this vessel now. We’d hate for them to be disappointed if they don’t see Tor when we dock.”
Hollis nodded and conveyed the message with a series of torch flashes reflected off a mirror.
When the lighthouse responded, the captain and the crew members who understood light language let out a laugh.
Abbey squinted at the lighthouse, but the periodic flashes meant nothing to her. “What are they saying?”
Clemens chuckled. “They said we should turn around and go home. They don’t have enough mead for Captain Roy.”
The Storm Wall was located just beyond the Farrows, a chain of eighteen small islands halfway between Barskall and the Kaldfell Peninsula. It was maintained by eighteen stormships who took turns cruising the chain of islands, building storms to rebuff any Barskall who tried to pass through that area, and taking a few days leave between excursions on the islands’ shores.
Whether it was just a coincidence that there were eighteen ships and eighteen islands, Abbey did not know. In the past eighteen ships had often seemed like overkill, but lately they’d been insufficient—which was why Thunderclap was here.
Dustin sidled up next to Abbey as they approached the island with the lighthouse, still driven by a natural wind. “You ready to meet some real oddballs?”
Abbey grinned. “What, like you’re Mister Normal?”
The Storm Caller chuckled. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Some of these people at the Storm Wall haven’t been back to regular society in decades. Just be ready for anything, is all I’m saying.”
Abbey watched across the water as the lighthouse grew from an object she could cover with her thumb to a massive tower. “You said you’ve never been out here.”
Dustin shook his head. “I’ve only heard the stories.”
“What kind of stories?”
“Er, let’s just say there are a lot of sheep on these islands and not a lot of women. Draw your own conclusions.”
“I’d rather not,” Abbey demurred dryly.
They reached the dock and found a small group gathered to await their arrival. At the front stood a short, squat woman who had to be seventy years old if she was a day. Her hair was white and she was hunched, but her eyes shone clear and strong even from this distance.
Something about the woman looked familiar, but Abbey couldn’t place her.
Clemens said, “Roy, is that—”
“It is,” Roy responded, cutting him off. His voice was oddly serious. “Now get the crew ready. I want us to look sharp if she comes aboard.”
Clemens turned to the crew and began barking orders. Abbey rushed to her place and got to work hauling a line.
A few minutes later, the ship docked and the crew lowered the gangplank. Captain Roy looked uncharacteristically tense.
“Permission to board, Storm Captain?” a small, sweet voice called from the dock.
“Granted,” Captain Roy called back. “Come aboard.”
The tiny woman shuffled up the gangplank and stepped onto the main deck, flanked by two burly men with large beards. The woman walked the length of the ship, not speaking, only nodding occasionally as she inspected every inch of the deck.
Finally she made her way back to the captain. “Well, Roy, the ship looks presentable. You’ve done well.”
The tension ran out of Captain Roy, and a wide smile broke out on her face. “Thank you, Mother.”
He grabbed her in a tight hug.
“Mother?” Abbey asked.
Clemens chuckled. “You didn’t know? His mother’s been stationed at the Farrows for more than forty years. Roy grew up here.”
After a short greeting, Roy introduced his mother to a few key crew members. Including Abbey.
The old woman held out a hand. “I’m Liv. You’re a southern girl, I take it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Abbey shook the woman’s hand and steeled herself for the insult that was sure to follow.
“Good!” Liv declared, her lively eyes sparkling. “We could use a little warm blood in this fleet.”
After she’d met Dustin, Clemens, and a few others, Liv turned to her son. “Now, tell me the meaning of this. What are you doing here? Not that I’m unhappy to see you.”
Roy explained the reason for Thunderclap’s visit to the islands. “We’re not just here to gather info for the magistrate, though. We’re here to help if we can. We need to solve this thing.”
“Easier said than done.” Liv gazed at the water thoughtfully. “Still, it’s understandable. It’s always been a bit like living in a war zone out here, but things are worse lately.”
“How so?” Roy asked.
“Why don’t you bring a few of your crew ashore, and I’ll show you.”
A few minutes later, Roy and ten of his crew, including Dustin, Abbey, and Olaf, set foot on the island.
“This is Strayroe,” Liv explained as they walked. “It’s the largest of the islands, and it serves as our unofficial base of operations, though we have stormships stationed at each of the four biggest islands at all times. In the past, our job was to drive the Barskall toward the islands. They’d try to go around us, and we’d build storms to make their voyage impossible, pushing them to where the other stormships could hammer them until they gave up and went home.”
As they walked through the small village, Abbey noticed that every person they passed nodded deferentially to Liv. Clearly Roy’s mom was a big deal in these parts.
They made their way past a bakery, a dry goods store, and a blacksmith shop. Abbey resisted the urge to slip inside that last to see how the smith had it set up. She’d never been in a blacksmith’s shop other than her father’s.
“That’s been the way of it as long as I’ve been here,” Liv continued. “The Barskall tried to sneak around us to the north or the south, and we tried to stop them. But the last few months, things have changed. The Barskall have been coming directly at us. They want to fight us on land, an
d the attacks are coming nearly every day.”
Roy grunted. “What in the hell would bring that about?”
“That’s what we’ve been wondering,” Liv said. “There’s more. Our Storm Callers have been having trouble using the weather as effectively. The Barskall are fighting back; it’s as if they suddenly have Storm Callers of their own, but we haven’t seen any on their ships. Wherever these mysterious Storm Callers are casting from, we haven’t been able to find them.”
Abbey and Dustin exchanged a glance. What Liv had described was just like what was happening near the southern tip of Kaldfell: magical storms with no Storm Callers in sight.
“Could it be Dahlia?” Dustin asked. “Makes sense that she’d push the Barskall hard now that Tor’s gone.”
Abbey shook her head. “The timelines don’t work. Tor’s only been dead a few weeks, and Liv says this has been going on for months.”
Suddenly a wagon pulled by a team of four horses trotted up alongside them. The back of the wagon was filled with soldiers.
The driver shouted down at them. “Ma’am, the light alarm just flashed. We’ve got an attack on the northern tip of Vagar.”
Liv cursed quietly. “Those assholes can’t take a day off, can they?”
“Vagar?” Abbey asked.
“Next island over,” Roy answered without looking at her. His eyes were fixed on Liv. “Mother, Thunderclap can help. We’ll go back to the ship and circle around. With any luck, we’ll catch them with their pants down.”
Liv nodded. “Fine. You and the Storm Caller go.” She cast a critical eye over the other crew members. “Can this lot fight?”
Olaf jumped in before Roy had a chance to answer. “Can we fight? We kicked Tor’s ass so bad that they gave us his ship.”
Liv stifled a chuckle. “Can you do without them, Roy?”
“We’ll manage,” he answered with a nod.
“Good. We’ll see you after the battle.”
With that, Roy and Dustin took off for the docks.
“The rest of you get in the wagon.” Liv climbed in next to the driver without waiting for an answer, surprisingly spry for her age.
Abbey hopped in the back, and the others quickly followed. As soon as everyone was in, the driver made a guttural noise, and the team of horses trotted north on the road.
“I don’t understand,” Abbey started, leaning toward Liv and shouting to be heard over the pounding of the horses’ hooves. “If the fight’s on the next island over, how are horses going to get us there?”
Liv laughed. “Girl, you really don’t know much about the Farrows, do you?”
The driver handed Liv a lantern, which she lit and then hung it from a hook on a pole that rose three feet above her head.
Olaf nudged Abbey. “You think we’re going over a bridge?”
Abbey watched Liv hang the lantern. She felt a bit of apprehension in her stomach as she began to suspect how they were going to get to Vagar. “No, I don’t think it’s a bridge.”
Olaf let out a sigh of relief. “Good. We’d be sitting ducks for Barskall warriors on a bridge.”
“Here we are,” Liv stated. “Take one last look at the sun, dears. You won’t be seeing it for a bit.”
Olaf’s eyes widened when he saw what was ahead. “Tell me we’re not going in there.”
Abbey looked at the sunlit sky before answering. “Olaf, we are definitely going in there.”
A moment later, they went through the pitch-black opening and entered the tunnel under the sea.
CHAPTER FIVE
Benjamin, Jarvi, and Syd were called into a large room on the fifth floor of the council building an hour later. As they entered, Jarvi leaned over to the other two.
“Perhaps it’s best if I do the largest share of the talking, since they know me.”
“I have absolutely no problem with that,” Syd whispered back.
It was clear the new Storm Captain was uncomfortable in this diplomatic setting, but Benjamin was impressed at the calm with which she carried herself. Only a few days ago, her job had been to whip a surly crew of sailors into line using profanity, threats of violence, or whatever else the situation called for. Now she was leading this mission and meeting with the Algon City Council to ask for aid. Benjamin wondered, not for the first time, why the magistrate had decided to send Syd instead of Roy on this mission. Surely Syd would have been more comfortable at the Storm Wall?
The room they were walking into reminded Benjamin of an eerie combination of a noble’s home in Arcadia and the room in the magistrate’s building where the Storm Captains and Storm Callers met—or at least where they had met until Dahlia had set the building on fire. It had a large stone table like the magistrate’s, but this room was more finely appointed. Jarvi nudged Benjamin and pointed to the magitech lights hanging on the walls.
The lights gave Benjamin pause. He knew the Arcadians weren’t too keen on sharing their magical technologies, so either these had been smuggled out of Arcadia or the Algonians had another source of magitech. He wasn’t sure which possibility bothered him more. Either way, it was clear that their obsession with all things Arcadian had spread to the highest levels.
Otto stood next to the table, along with four others—three women and one man. The city council, Benjamin guessed. Otto welcomed them and introduced them to the other councilors.
When they were seated, Otto turned to Syd. “Well, Captain, you said you had something important to discuss.”
All eyes shifted to Syd. She met Otto’s gaze with a look that was probably a little too aggressive for a diplomatic meeting. “That’s right. I’m going to let Jarvi here explain.”
Jarvi nodded to her respectfully. “Thank you, Captain.” He turned toward the council. “Undoubtedly you’ve heard about our recent troubles in Holdgate.”
Otto and the others nodded. “The sailors on the trading ships do love to talk. A messy business, from what we hear. And Captain Tor, of all people!” He shook his head sadly.
“Exactly that,” Jarvi replied. “The danger of the Barskall had seemed so far away from Holdgate that we lulled ourselves into lazy comfort. We just sent the stormships out, and as long as the Barskall stayed away in the north, we didn’t think much about what was happening beyond our city walls. We’ve come in the hopes that you’ll learn from our mistakes.”
A heavyset councilwoman named Sofia leaned forward and glared at Jarvi. “This all sounds very noble of you, but I have the feeling you want something from us.”
Jarvi thought a moment before answering. “I wouldn’t put it like that. It’s more like we’re here to propose a mutually beneficial plan to secure both our cities.”
“Now we’re getting to it!” the other city councilman exclaimed. He was the oldest of the group by far, perhaps even older than Jarvi, and he’d introduced himself as Ulf. “You do want something from us. You want us to fight your damn war against the Barskall!” He glared at Jarvi. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Jarvi met his gaze. “You’re not wrong, though to characterize it as our war is woefully shortsighted. The Barskall won’t stop at Holdgate.”
Ulf slammed his hand on the table. “Ha! I knew it. They want us to send our men and women north to die on their bloody stormships. They’re not here for some—how’d he put it?—‘mutually beneficial plan.’ They’re here to beg.”
Syd shifted in her seat, and Benjamin could tell she was getting angry. In truth, he couldn’t blame her. He was starting to get a little pissed off himself. He just hoped Syd would be able to keep her swords sheathed for the remainder of the discussion.
Jarvi, on the other hand, seemed unfazed when he answered. “Begging is not the correct term. We’re holding you accountable. The people of the Kaldfell Peninsula have kept the world safe from the Barskall since the end of the Mad Days, but in recent years, Algon has been slow to do her part. All we are asking for is a couple hundred sailors. Now, if you prefer your men and women don’t fight in the war, fine. We’ll st
ation them on the stormships protecting the trading and fishing routes and shift some of the sailors currently working those safer routes north.”
Ulf scoffed. “And have our people protecting Holdgate trading ships, helping to make you even richer than you already are? That would be slavery. They’re asking for slaves!”
Syd snarled at the council. “Perhaps you’d prefer to wake up with a Barskall blade to your throat? That’s literally what’s happening in some of the northern villages. But you don’t give a shit as long as you stay comfortable, do you?”
Otto raised his hands, palms out. “Let’s all try to calm down. I think the point Ulf is trying to make is that this all seems a bit arbitrary. We’re somehow responsible for all the villages on our peninsula simply because we’re on the same landmass?”
“It’s the Kaldfell way,” Syd growled. “We band together. Always have.”
Ulf scoffed at that. “Please. What is Kaldfell?” He looked at Jarvi. “You know as well as I do that during the Mad Days people from the south poured onto our shores, bringing their traditions and their foreign-sounding names. A boy born on Kaldfell today is more likely to be named Henry than Henrik. The world has changed, yet we’re still expected to be its protectors.”
“It’s about protecting your fucking city too,” Syd snapped.
Jarvi put a hand on the Storm Captain’s shoulder. “Perhaps we should change the subject to something more pleasant.”
Otto’s eyes brightened at that. “Yes. Benjamin, is it true you trained under Chancellor Adrien in Arcadia?”
Benjamin cleared his throat before answering. He honestly hadn’t expected to be called on to speak in this meeting. He was more comfortable behind his anvil than addressing politicians, but here he sat, so he might as well do his best. “That’s right. I studied at the Academy. Adrien was quite hands-on in those days, so I spent a good deal of time learning from him directly.”
Every member of the city council was watching Benjamin closely, with an intensity that spoke of more than a passing curiosity.
After a moment’s silence, Ulf spoke. “How do you feel about the way they approached teaching magic?”
