by Wacht, Peter
“I have a good guess. In a few days I’ll probably know for sure.”
“Laurag as you thought originally?”
“I don’t think so. A bit farther to the north, most likely.”
The silence returned, Kaylie looking at her hands. Thomas kept his eyes on the Great Sharks, which continued to trail the Waverunner, maintaining their distance but never straying too far behind.
“Thank you,” said Thomas. “For what you did in Great Falls.”
Kaylie nodded. “You seemed quite taken with her,” said Kaylie, a small smile touching her lips.
“It wasn’t a ‘her,’” protested Thomas.
“True, but that’s what got that thing into your room.”
Thomas sighed, knowing that it would be awhile before he could live down what had happened. “I felt that darkness, that cloud that seemed to be following us from Eamhain Mhacha. I knew it was in the inn, but I didn’t know where. When you appeared at my door, I pulled you -– I mean I pulled what looked like you — into my room, because I thought that you could be in danger. I didn’t realize that I was pulling the Wraith right where it wanted to be.”
“Are you sure that was the only reason?” asked Kaylie cheekily.
Thomas blushed, remembering the image that had confronted him when he had shut the door, the Wraith standing in his room. It had taken on Kaylie’s appearance, using its Dark Magic to assume her shape, features, gestures, voice, everything about her. But the revealing nature of its clothes and steaminess of its manners were distinctly not what Thomas had come to expect from Kaylie. The Wraith had put him off guard, and that had helped the creature’s Dark Magic work, freezing him in place, much like a fly caught in a spider’s web. Only the real Kaylie’s appearance had saved him.
“I didn’t really see what you, what the Wraith that looked like you …” Thomas gave up. “I admit I was a bit surprised …”
“It’s all right, Thomas,” said Kaylie, patting his arm. “You can admit that you liked what you saw.”
“Kaylie …”
As Thomas grew more flustered, Kaylie broke out laughing. “I’m sorry, Thomas. I couldn’t resist teasing you a little.”
Thomas leaned back against the railing, surveying all the activity on the ship’s deck and trying to figure out what to say next. He needed to talk to Oso and set a guard schedule as Torlan requested.
“If you want me to say that I was … pleased by your appearance, or rather the image of you the Wraith had taken, then yes, it was quite eye-opening. I …”
“That’s all right, Thomas. You don’t need to explain.”
Thomas stammered for a moment, then finally blurted out what was on his mind. “It’s just that you’re really beautiful and …”
“Thomas …”
Kaylie cut him off, not wanting the conversation to go any farther. She had intended to have a little fun at his expense, and she had achieved that goal. But she didn’t want to go down a road that might increase her own embarrassment.
Thomas’ eyes captured hers, the green intensity burrowing into her heart. Before she knew what she was doing, she had stepped up close to Thomas, leaning her arms against his chest, and kissed him lightly on the lips.
At just that moment, the ship hit a deep trough in the waves, dropping down into it. The jolt pulled Kaylie away from Thomas as she grabbed for the railing. Her cheeks burned a fierce red and her eyes struggled to meet his. She scrunched her hands together, discomfited. She had not planned on doing what she had just done, and she realized that several of the Marchers had seen it, though they had the intelligence to stay silent and avert their eyes when she peered out across the ship once more.
“Well, good. That’s kind of you to say. Thank you, Thomas.”
Kaylie quickly escaped to her small cabin, locking the door behind her. She berated herself as she sat on her bunk, not knowing what had come over her. Her anger initially came from her decision to kiss Thomas, as the urge to experience again what she had felt in the inn at Great Falls had dominated her thoughts. She told herself that she needed to stop acting like a foolish girl. She needed to act like the princess that she was. Yet each time she tried to regain her composure, the memory of Thomas’ lips touching hers set her face blazing, a small smile lifting her flushed cheeks.
CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX
Strange Behavior
“Thomas, Torlan’s asked for you. Something strange is going on.”
Oso stood in the doorway to Thomas’ small cabin in the early morning hours. The tall Marcher appeared agitated, worried, which was out of character for Thomas’ normally imperturbable friend.
Rising quickly, Thomas threw on a shirt, pulled on his boots and out of habit grabbed his sword. He followed Oso up the tight stairway, the sharp, cool breeze of that time between morning and night clearing the cobwebs of sleep from his mind. Oso led him to the port rail near the bow of the merchant vessel. His Marchers, set to watch the waters around the ship, had their bows drawn, arrows ready to shoot.
“They’re not acting as they should,” said Torlan, who gazed out over the water. The fins of the Great Sharks that had trailed them for the better part of a week had drawn closer than ever before. Rather than following, they had picked up speed and now were circling the merchant vessel, much as they would if they were hunting prey. “Smaller ships, yes, I wouldn’t be surprised by this behavior. To them a small ship is simply a possible meal. But not the Waverunner. We’re too big a ship.”
“There might be more to it than that,” said Thomas, watching the massive sharks.
The beasts had no trouble staying with the vessel, which continued to benefit from the strong westerly winds generated by the Whorl. But the circles the Great Sharks were swimming were becoming tighter. Despite the darkness, with Thomas’ sharp vision, he could see the malevolence in the red eyes of the Great Shark that had just swam by the ship’s port side, its sharp teeth visible.
“That’s just an old wives’ tale,” sputtered Torlan. “It can’t be true.”
Thomas turned toward the captain, a hard gleam in his eye. “In every tale, there’s a kernel of truth. That’s what my grandmother likes to say. There’s more truth to this tale than anyone would like to admit.”
“The Shadow Lord! Blazes, how are we to defend against these behemoths?”
“As best as we can. Captain, get your men to the rigging. Oso, wake any Marchers still in their bunks.”
“What do you mean to do, Thomas?”
“We’re not going to wait for them to attack. We’re going to turn the tables. I want to get as many strikes in as we can before they decide to come at us.”
“Music to my ears,” said the tall Highlander, who raced below decks, bellowing for the Marchers to arm for battle.
Torlan sprinted off as well, showing remarkable speed and agility for a man of his size. Sailors began pouring up onto the deck, ready for their orders.
“What would you have us do, my young friend?” asked the captain. He had already decided that if they were to survive this engagement, he needed to cede command to the young Highlander with the green eyes that blazed brightly in the early morning murk.
“We continue a bit farther on our course,” said Thomas, watching the Great Sharks closely. “If we’re going to survive, we need the light of day.”
“That’s no more than an hour off,” replied Torlan.
“Then let’s hope we can make it that long.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY SEVEN
Shark Attack
Hearing the shouts and commotion on deck, Kaylie flung herself out of her bunk, dressing quickly. Buckling her sword on her back, she sprinted up the steps. Sailors and Marchers created what appeared to be a tapestry of chaos on the main deck of the Waverunner, yet there was a purpose to it all. Picking out Thomas, Oso and Torlan at the bow, she dodged across the rough wood in their direction.
“What’s going on?” she asked, noting the tense expressions that greeted her.
�
�Great Sharks preparing to attack,” answered Torlan. “Perhaps you should go below decks, young miss.”
“I will not, Captain,” replied Kaylie, the fire rising in her voice. “I can fight just as well as any Marcher.”
“That she can,” said Oso.
“We need her, Torlan.” Thomas turned, looking directly at Kaylie. “We were hoping for more time, for the sun to rise before they attacked, but it looks like our time’s up.”
Kaylie looked out over the rail, discerning the Great Sharks circling in the dim light offered by the deck lamps, the wakes created by their fins becoming larger as their speed increased. They swam no more than fifty yards off the ship now.
“They’re preparing to charge,” warned Torlan, watching the Great Sharks as well. He had seen the massive beasts do much the same thing time and time again. Soon they would try to ram them, and whether his ship, large as it was, could absorb such a blow, or possibly repeated blows, he didn’t know.
“Kaylie, we need light,” explained Thomas. “We can’t fight these creatures in the dark. Can you give us that?”
Kaylie returned his gaze unflinchingly. She had never done it before, but she had grown comfortable in the use of the Talent, enjoying her lessons with Thomas every night after dinner. She knew she could figure something out.
“Yes, I can.”
“Good. Find a spot on the main deck, maybe by the helm, where you can see in every direction. When I call for it, give us the light that we need.”
Kaylie nodded and ran off, knowing exactly what to do.
Torlan watched her go. “What is she going to …”
To stop what would likely be a series of questions that he didn’t have the time to answer, he lifted his palm. A bright white ball of light appeared, dancing above his fingers.
Torlan stepped back in shock. “I’ve heard stories, but I never believed …” His eyes were wild for a moment, then with visible effort he regained control of himself. “I’ve heard of a Highlander with such power. I never expected it to be true. The stories you hear in the inns lining the waterfront tend to be more tall tales than anything else. Clearly, this one was …”
“True,” said Oso. The tall Highlander watched the captain, waiting to see how he would respond to this obviously unsettling discovery. It didn’t take long to find out.
“Then perhaps we have a chance after all,” said Torlan. “My Lord, the ship is yours to command.”
“Thank you, Torlan,” said Thomas. “Man the helm and keep us on this course. When the first Great Shark charges, turn into the attack. Aim the bow at the beast. Make it strike the prow.”
“As you command, Lord Kestrel,” said Torlan, who lumbered off across the deck, yelling encouragement to his sailors as he went.
“Oso, form the Marchers into three groups. One each to the port and starboard rails, the last to the bow. Bows ready. Tell them that I might add a little something extra when they shoot.”
Oso ran off, organizing the Marchers quickly. Having done all that he could, Thomas took hold of the Talent, allowing the power of nature to flow through him. Extending his senses, he saw what he had expected. The Great Sharks’ presence had cleared the water around them of other sea life. Thomas glanced to the west for just a moment, somewhat surprised. A pod of dolphins still tracked them, following the progress of their ship and the three predators.
On a whim, Thomas decided to try something that he had done many times, in fact one of the first things that he had learned to do as a child when trying to control the Talent. He reached out with his mind, seeking to connect with the dolphins. Finding the dolphin that he thought was the alpha, the largest female around whom the other dolphins swam, he attempted to connect with her.
At first there was nothing. It was like he was butting his head up against a brick wall. But then something changed, an acceptance. Then a welcome. Thomas had succeeded. He had linked with the dolphin matriarch. Using images as he did when communicating with Beluil, he offered a greeting and began to explain who he was, where he was going. The dolphin quickly replied, asking why the Great Sharks had entered their territory. Thomas attempted to answer when he had to break the connection unexpectedly.
“Thomas!” shouted Oso, who had come to stand with him on the bow, several Marchers behind them, bows at the ready. “Off to the right! One of the beasts is turning.”
Thomas regained his concentration, confirming what Oso had said. The first Great Shark had stopped circling, instead angling toward the ship.
“Torlan! Hard starboard!”
“Hard starboard!” repeated Torlan, turning the wheel. His sailors responded immediately, trimming the sails, taking in certain lines, letting out others, as the ship cut smartly through the waves in the desired direction. Kaylie stood just behind the captain, waiting.
“Kaylie! Give us light!”
Knowing the need would be immediate, she already had opened herself to the Talent, taking in as much of the natural magic of the world as she could safely hold. Raising her hands toward the darkened sky, she then released the power that she controlled, the stream of white blasting from both palms until a bright haze filled the sky for a league around. Kaylie had replaced the early morning murk with a brilliance as strong as the sun, giving everyone on board the Waverunner full knowledge of what they faced.
The Great Shark that had maneuvered to attack quickly picked up speed, the other two continuing to circle and waiting to see what the result would be. Torlan had turned the bow as Thomas requested, aiming right for the Great Shark. The beast didn’t seem to care, staying on its course, its enormous fin cutting through the water faster and faster with every passing second as its massive tail propelled it through the water.
“Oso, on your command!” shouted Thomas, the pounding of the ship rising and falling through the waves almost deafening.
Oso didn’t bother to respond. He knew what was needed. “Marchers, to the ready!”
The Marchers standing behind him at the bow stepped forward, bows drawn, arrows nocked. The Marchers on both sides of the ship did the same.
Oso waited until the Great Shark was almost upon them. “Release!”
The arrows shot through the salty sea air, targeting the attacking Great Shark. Thomas watched the bolts speed away, knowing that the shafts of wood and sharpened steel heads would have little effect against the thick skin of the Great Shark. But he could remedy that. Using the Talent, he focused his attention on the arrows, infusing them with power, the long shafts of wood and metal becoming blazing bolts of white light.
Amazed, but not surprised, the Marchers observed their arrows streak toward the Great Shark, then quickly prepared to shoot again. Torlan watched in shock, but he maintained his presence of mind to keep his ship lined up on the attacking beast.
The first arrow struck, then another, and another. The Marchers were true in their aim, and the power Thomas had infused in the quarrels allowed them to pierce the Great Shark’s hide. At first, the Great Shark appeared unaffected, but more and more arrows struck, and the huge beast began to falter. As each shaft pierced its rough hide, tearing into it, the white energy sizzled and penetrated deeper into the beast.
When one of the last arrows ripped through the Great Shark’s right eye, it finally tried to turn away, but it was too late. Torlan kept the Waverunner on course. Instead of the Great Shark crashing into the five-masted craft, the huge ship rammed the beast, its prow slamming into the creature’s belly.
As the Waverunner passed the floundering beast, the Marchers fired several more arrows into the Great Shark, Thomas infusing them with energy as he had done before. The Great Shark’s frantic movements slowly came to an end, its thrashing tail becoming still, and then the dark creature began to sink, its eyes unmoving as the last of its life bled into the surrounding waters.
Kaylie maintained her control of the Talent, continuing to illuminate the sky for a league around. She yearned to join the fight, but knew that her current task was just a
s critical.
“Hard port!” yelled Torlan, his sailors scrambling to obey his command.
A second Great Shark had turned, seeking to take advantage of the distraction provided by the attack of the first. The beast, charging toward the side of the hull, swam at a speed so great that it created a wake that threatened to swamp the deck of the ship. Try as Torlan and his men might, Thomas understood instantly that the ship would never turn in time to meet the dark creature head on. The Great Shark was too close, and the Waverunner would not be able to swing its bow around.
Oso recognized the danger as well, taking immediate action. “Marchers, release!”
Arrow after arrow shot from the bow and the port side, the Marchers on the starboard side sprinting across the deck to lend their aid. As before, Thomas infused each quarrel with the energy of his natural magic. With each strike, a bolt tore into the hardened hide of the Great Shark and then sizzled more deeply into its body. But the beast still kept coming, ignoring the pain, maw opened wide, sharp teeth glistening in the white light.
“Brace for impact!” shouted Torlan. Those who could did, those who couldn’t found themselves tangled in the rigging or collapsed to the deck, many of the Marchers knocked onto their backs as the massive beast slammed into the merchant vessel amidships.
The Great Shark had flung itself half out of the water during its charge, its frightening snout taking a huge chunk out of the port rail, several unfortunate sailors sliding into its deep gullet as the creature’s weight pushed the ship down into the waves, threatening to flood the main deck with seawater.
Those Marchers still standing continued to shoot their arrows, but Thomas knew it would not be enough. Despite the size of the Waverunner, it was listing severely because of the Great Shark’s weight. The vessel was threatening to capsize as the masts and sails sank closer to the ten-foot waves.
Thomas sprinted from his position in the bow, leaping down toward the flooding deck and catching a rope that had come loose during the collision that allowed him to swing out across the deck. His momentum carried him toward the Great Shark, which gnashed its teeth, trying to reach more of the sailors who struggled to escape on the slippery wood. As Thomas flew through the air, he released the rope just above the thrashing Great Shark. Thomas grabbed hold of his sword, pulling it from the scabbard on his back, as he dropped back down toward the ship.