by Ember Lane
Faulk stopped his gentle tapping, staring at the wood and nodding. “That’ll do. I can live with that.”
I envied Faulk his ignorance, but our theory made sense. Ruse’s stump had been like an anthill, bigger than any others, and like an anthill, built off the backs of the other lands, the other ships. But we now knew we could reverse that decay. Valkyrie had budded again and even if the battle in Striker Bay had faltered it would recover, had to recover. We had to give Joss the Nine the help he needed.
“Done,” said Pog, and he sat back on his haunches.
Faulk rifled his tool bag again. “Screw this eye hook in the middle then thread the rope through.” The trapmaster quickly returned to stripping the doorjamb. Pog set to work using the spike to start his hole off and soon screwed the hook in.
I envied Pog his simple pleasures, helping Faulk really brought him out of his shell. But then of the two of us, he deserved them the most.
“Get yourself ready, Alexa,” Faulk told me as he pulled a large strip of wood away.
Pog finished securing the hook and threaded the rope through its eye. Faulk cleared up his tools and told Pog to look after them. Pog stashed the bag in his sack of holding before they both grabbed a rope end each, standing either side of me.
“Ready?” Faulk asked.
“Ready,” I confirmed.
“On three, Pog. One, two, three!”
They both tugged. The door creaked. I held my breath.
“And again,” Faulk muttered. “This time, wait until the ship lists this way and use its power too.”
They waited, the ship rolled away, dipping, and then coming back on us.
“Now!” Faulk yelled, and the rope snapped tight, the door groaning, shifting an inch.
“Again!” Faulk cried as little Pog strained.
With a scream and a splinter, it fell in, and I pushed myself off the keel, hurdling the falling door and jumping through the lattice just as it snapped back against what was left of the doorframe.
I landed in a narrow corridor, a single lantern spreading a feeble, swaying light. One guard sat on a stool, barely awake until I suddenly landed a few feet away from him. He shook his head, tried to jump up, but I fired a bullet straight into his brain. It was good to be powerful again… Darting forward, the small corridor ended in a main crossway. Two more sailors fell to my bullets, my magic unleashed, my heart pumping with fury.
“Don’t destroy the ship, Alexa,” Pog cried from behind me.
A bell began ringing, feet thudding on the decks above me. I grabbed out at a cowering sailor, a young boy, certainly no villain. “Where’s the priest?”
“Dolunr? Captain’s quarters.”
“Show me,” I said, shoving him forward.
He stumbled along the corridor, a whimper escaping his lips. Two or three more of Ruse’s black-clad sailors slid down a set of steps at our corridor’s end, vicious cutlasses drawn, determined growls on their faces.
Pushing the cabin boy to one side, I blasted them one by one, dropping the last before he’d even jumped from the steps. Grabbing the boy by his collar, I shoved him forward again. “Up there?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I pushed him away, knowing he would hamper me, and climbed the steps. Behind me, Pog screamed, and a clash of knives rang out. Quickly spinning around, I saw the cabin boy and Pog tussling, knives raised. The cabin boy was quick, but no match for Pog who soon had him on the floor, ending his resistance with a single stroke.
Pog looked up at me, his chest heaving. “Stop being so nice.”
Point taken.
I darted up the steps, taking out two sailors at their top, looking around, eyes wide, listening, waiting for more. The ship creaked, its mast growling under the strain of the wind. Letting my mind flow below decks, I sought out the priest, Dolunr.
I soon found him, sitting at a desk, looking down at some papers. He glanced up as he sensed my presence, and before I could react, he turned into crimson fire, like he’d set his whole body afire. The flames coalesced; forming a ball far bigger than one priest should be able to conjure. Doubt suddenly gripped my brain. I took a step back, two, and then began to form my protection. But I’d hesitated. I was too late, and he sent the dread ball straight at me, tearing through the fabric of the ship, exploding through its decks and smashing straight into my guts. It sent me hurtling backward across the ship’s deck. I skidded along it and slammed into a nest of coiled rope.
Gasping for breath, I gathered my mana, but before I could unleash it, another crimson bolt headed my way. Rolling, springing to my feet, I dove to one side as the deck exploded beside me. Splinters peppered me, stabbing into me. I scrambled around trying to send my own magic back, but I’d lost him, the ship looking like a meteor had torn through its stern. Another blast shattered its rear decks, arcing through the air toward me. I dove again, back to the devastation I’d just left. Turning in midair, I made to send a bolt straight back to him but hesitated, Pog and Faulk nowhere to be seen. Instead, I forced a shield up, letting it clash with the crimson magic and absorb its dire power. The force of it sent me tumbling back, rolling on the ruined deck, but I contained its force, brought it under my control, and slowly assimilated it. My shadowmana suddenly brimmed to the fullest it had ever been.
I stood, brushing myself off, and picking bits of deck from my bloodied side.
I glared at the cowering crew. If they had designs on my back, that look made them doubt.
I walked back toward the source of Dolunr’s magic.
“Any of you try anything,” I screamed at the crew. “Anything at all, and you die. I have eyes in the back of my head.”
All around, the deck was in flames, and though my words were designed to instill fear, they appeared to galvanize the crew into action, setting about the fires, hauling buckets up the sides. It was like they’d chosen survival, and my battle was not theirs to fight.
Suited me.
Another gout of red fire arced out. Dolunr having no such concerns for his ship. I caught his magic easily, ready this time, and sent my own awareness back along its thread, trying to locate the priest’s cabin.
But it was no longer a simple cabin. Where his desk had been, a small cauldron now spouted crimson fire. Yet something was wrong, it was there but…not quite. I sensed he wasn’t the only one in that cabin, that there were more of them, and then it dawned on me, and I kicked myself for being so stupid.
Dolunr looked along my line of thought, drawing his power from the others, the others on the shore. I snapped my thoughts away from him, severing our tie and darting around to the ship's rear, slamming up my concealment. I focused on the shore, seeking out the black tower there, sneaking up on them under my invisible shell.
I found them easily, their attention solely focused on Dolunr and his confusion as he, in turn, hunted for me. I knew I could catch them if I was fast. Scrambling to the ship’s stern, above Dolunr now, I crouched down and prepared. I took a breath, then in one magical motion, I dropped my concealment and sent everything I had at the tower. As my silver blast arced up and away from the ship, I sensed their euphoria at finding me then their surprise and finally their horror.
A great ball of flame erupted on the coast as the tower’s top exploded, and an evil smirk graced my lips. “Gotcha!” I said, knowing I’d caught them completely unaware.
Below deck, I sensed Dolunr gathering his magic. I raised my shield back, well tried too, but then a terrible realization ran through me. I’d drained my mana to zero. Horror filled me, my shimmering, silver shield gone. Some of the crew eyed me, sensing they might have a chance. I equipped my scarletite axes, dissuading them instantly, but in that moment, Dolunr found me again.
I sensed his power gathering, much weaker now, but so much stronger than my empty carcass, and I knew I was in trouble. I scrambled around, unable to shake his roving eye, and I saw him grin, understanding I’d drained my mana, and he knew the tables had turned, and that he was stronger than
me now.
He readied his crimson power. I decided to face him, hurdling the ruined decks, sliding down the steps and following his path of destruction straight toward the beast himself. His cauldron was gone now; it had been just a projection of the tower’s one. But he was standing behind his desk, and he was brimming with his dark power. As I approached him, I knew I was out of options. I saw two more of the strange boxes on his table, wedge shaped and covered in the same intricate design, and I understood that they were the prize, out of reach now, but they were what was keeping us in Striker Bay.
It was hopeless, but it had come down to this.
I checked my mana levels, but they had only recovered by a few hundred.
“Use all your power? Careless, very, very careless,” he gloated, a wicked grin magnified by constant bloody drips coming from the corners of his mouth. “Well, isn’t that unfortunate? My master will be so pleased: you out of the way, the stones secured, and the thief in my pocket. Who needs Valkyrie when there are better, fresher lands to take?”
Reaching back, crimson fire set his arm aflame. “Goodbye, Alexa Drey!” he screamed and threw his arm forward. As it hurtled toward me, Pog appeared right behind Dolunr, jumping up, bringing his knife to bear on the priest’s neck, pulling his forehead away with his other hand.
The magic crashed into me, sending me back, spread-eagled, along the ruined corridor and bouncing along the deck. I smashed into one of the masts, wrapping my body around it, spinning.
I saw stars—true stars, spread above me in the cloudless, limitless sky, and in that moment, just before consciousness was lost to me, I saw Ruse, Ruse the ship listing, limping around the orbit of Celeron, and in that moment, things became a little clearer.
I waved away my notifications.
Congratulations! You have defeated the priest Dolunr. You are awarded 1500 XP.
Congratulations! You have destroyed the combinium’s Striker Bay tower. You are awarded 2500 XP.
Congratulations! You have exceeded 135,000 XP. You are now level 36. You have 6 unallocated attribute points.
Well, ignored them to a degree, agility was proving very useful.
I passed out.
Name: Alexa Drey. Race: Human. Type: Chancer.
Age: 24. Alignment: The House of Mandrake. XP: 136,334.
Level: 32. Profession: Chooser. Un/Al pts: 0. Reputation: Known.
Health Points: 30/550 Energy: 46/510 Mana: 600 Shadow Mana: 451
HP Regen: 55/Min EN Regen: 51/Min MA Regen: N/A SMA Regen: NA
Attributes: (Level, Bonuses)
Vitality: (12, 38), Stamina: (12, 5)*3, Intelligence: (98, 0)*4
Charisma: (6, 6), Wisdom: (23, 8)*3, Luck: (7, 5)
Humility: (2, 0), Compassion: (3, 0), Strength: (3, 20), Agility: (79, 0)
XXXXXXXXXXX
Talents:
Tongues of Time, The Veils of Lamerell.
Quests:
Seek out the Legend of Billy Long Thumb. Status: Incomplete. Reward: Unknown.
The Veils of Lamerell. Status: Incomplete. Reward: Death.
Sub Quest: The master is now the slave, his command now his prisoner. Free the gambler; end his torment, and confront one of five. Status: Complete.
Sub Quest: Catch a thief. Status: Complete.
Sub Quest: Seek the Prince of a Cheated House. Canelo James lives and holds the answers. Status: Complete.
Sub Quest: Seek Sutech Charm, and tell him his daughter’s wish. Status: Complete.
Sub Quest: Release the Witches of Speaker’s Isle that they might spread the word. Status: Complete.
Sub Quest: Yet to be given. Status: Incomplete.
Chapter Seventeen
The Wizards and Witches of Striker Bay
I opened my eyes. I shut my eyes. I teased them open again.
“It doesn’t matter how many times you open and shut them, I’ll still be here,” Melinka said, her tone clipped as if amusement and her were currently distant friends.
“The boat?”
“Ship,” she corrected. “Faulk persuaded the crew to bring it back to dock. He scraped you up off the deck and somehow fooled them into thinking you’d just knocked your head. When the captain laughed, he found Pog’s blade at his neck. If I’m truthful, I think that was the clincher, by all accounts, they were quite subservient after.”
“He’s a feisty one.”
“Pog? I certainly wouldn’t want to face him in a dark alley. As for you…” She pursed her lips and stared down at me, letting her words hang in judgment.
It was definitely something about Barakdor—like all great witches had to have a Marista Fenwalker quality about them. I waited, waited for the admonishment. Yes, I should have hid while my mana recharged—at least enough to get a shot in, and yes, I probably put everyone’s life in danger, but hey, you can only follow your nose even if it has a habit of getting you into trouble. “Yes?”
Melinka knelt, wiping my brow. “I don’t believe it. The courage it must have taken to face Dolunr without any magic whatsoever, but genius giving Pog enough time to get in position. Valkyrie can’t thank you enough.”
“Getting Pog into position?” It looked like I was off the hook.
She beamed down at me. “Yes, distracting Dolunr while Pog snuck up on him. Risky, genius, but you survived.”
I wanted to tell her the truth.
Who was I kidding?
The truth she believed was fine.
“Faulk,” I said, “Faulk went into battle with just a wrecking bar—that’s true courage.”
“Our trapmaster is a remarkable man,” she said with a hint of wonder and faraway eyes.
“Did Joss the Nine win?” I asked, snapping Melinka away from her musing.
“It was touch and go, but then the black tower exploded, and everything we’d done, every inch we were fighting over, didn’t seem to matter to them anymore. The priest’s hold was over and all of a sudden, all the militia threw down their weapons and started celebrating like they’d won. It was the most bizarre thing I have ever witnessed. Both sides came together and the party started immediately.”
That startled me. “No lynching?” For some reason it was very important to me, a hope beyond hope—a sign that Valkyrie might be truly healing. The realization that we’d need everyone, friend and foe alike, alive if we were to survive our true fate, had been creeping up on me. Trouble was, I didn’t have a clue how we could possibly achieve that.
“Difficult to say.” She patted the bed. “No mass lynching, anyway. A few vendettas, no doubt the odd lovers' tryst settled, but all in all, Joss established a new hold over the city fairly quickly. I worry it was too easy.”
Dolunr’s claim that there were better lands suddenly flashed across my mind. Could it be that Ruse was now playing a different game? I wanted to scream, to cry out in frustration. My brain was scrambled. I just wanted to think of something else for a while. I needed some respite.
“Where am I?”
“The castle, overlooking the Gates of Striker Bay. Pog insisted you have this room, this view. He said the gates were important to you.”
“They are. I have to solve the riddle of Billy Long Thumb.”
“Do you still think that bag of bones is so important?”
I pondered that. “Yes, yes I do. I told you it was the first quest I received. He was the first person I met. Fate isn’t normally that careless.”
Melinka placed her palm on my forehead, grunting. “Good, you must solve it. Well, you appear to be recovering, but I’d suggest you get some rest before you go running around Striker Bay asking questions about that rogue.” She rose and even though I was still in bed she somehow dismissed me. “There’s food on the terrace. I’ll go get little Pog.” She swept to the door, opening it partway. “You two have a valuable connection. Pog told me he snuck up on Dolunr and only became visible when he stabbed him. Remarkable that only you can see him when he’s invisible…such a precious connection, else your actions could have been dee
med reckless.”
She let herself out, the door clicking softly shut.
Busted, I pushed myself up, sliding on fresh sheets, which automatically drew a smile from me until my ribs exploded in unbelievable pain. I felt my side. Someone had dressed me in a long nightshirt. I pulled it up, checking, feeling the bandages and seeing angry, bruised welts poking out from under it. I took a breath and composed, checking my mana, seeing if I had enough to perform a rudimentary heal on myself.
Surprised that both had recovered nicely—not to what they were but getting there—I poured a little light mana into my midriff and immediately felt better. Not 100 percent, but on the mend. Satisfied, I surveyed my room.
It was grand, compared to recent. Its walls were of a dark gray rock, flat like slates, and all stacked up. I had a copper bath in one corner, with pitchers of water right by, and an archway led to the outside where light beamed in—a diagonal shaft that lit the whole room. I strode over to the balcony, sitting at a small table laden with simple fruits and bread, and I looked out over its stone balustrade.
Luckily, my lofty terrace overlooked the whole bay, like it was positioned perfectly. The pincers curved, coddling the water, green sweeps mixed with red-topped houses, but mostly it was the feeling of peace, of renewed hope that rose up from it.
A few boats bobbed in the deep, royal blue, natural harbor. Though I didn’t know much about ships, boats, whatever, I guessed they were fishers, allowed to ply their trade to feed the city. One tall ship lay at anchor—Dolunr’s. Squinting, I could see it was a hive of activity. If repairs were already underway, I supposed that Pog had told them our next likely destination was Ruse.
I pushed that thought away. It would take a few days to complete the ship repairs, and things had a habit of changing. This land could strip your plans away in an instant. My erratic gaze then fell upon the southernmost claw where luxurious green arced like a single brushstroke with Taric’s derelict palace sitting on its highest point. From this distance it was hard to tell that the palace was ruined.
