Storm Warrior: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Storms Of Magic Book 4)

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Storm Warrior: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Storms Of Magic Book 4) Page 5

by PT Hylton


  Augustus nodded. “Indeed. I’m thinking I’ll be able to open officially by the end of the week.”

  “Impressive.” Benjamin looked around again, not sure what to say next. He’d promised to stop by to check on Augustus, but now that he was here he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

  His eyes were drawn to various parts of the shop—every square inch of it contained a memory. There was the spot where Abbey had picked up his massive hammer when she was only five, likely the first time she’d used magic. There near the counter was where she and Dustin used to play for hours when they were kids. And the spot that now held the workbench was where she and Olaf had faced off in negotiation-by-combat not all that long ago.

  The thought that he’d sold all these memories of his daughter’s childhood filled him with regret.

  But what else could he have done? As much as he’d enjoyed working the iron, he’d never intended to spend the rest of his life as a blacksmith. He’d long fought the truth, which was that he was born to be a fighter. For many years he’d hidden that knowledge even from himself, but Abbey had shown him that strength and power didn’t have to be used to oppress the weak. It could be used to elevate them. To fight for justice.

  And now that he knew that the potential to fight for good lay within him, he couldn’t go back to his old life, as much as part of him still wanted to. Being a blacksmith was a noble calling, but it wasn’t his.

  The knowledge of his true nature had changed him and he had to accept his new life, especially since he wasn’t quite sure where it would lead him yet.

  Augustus walked over and leaned against the counter. “By the way, someone came in looking for you this morning. Guess he hadn’t heard about the new ownership.”

  “Oh, yeah? Who was it?”

  Augustus screwed up his face as if he was trying to remember. “Now that I think about it, he didn’t give his name. He was probably in his late twenties. Black hair he wore tied back. Tall and thin.”

  Benjamin frowned. He couldn’t think who it might have been. “What did he want?”

  “First, he asked for you. When I told him I owned the shop now, he started asking questions about you and your daughter.”

  Benjamin tilted his head in surprise. “What did he want to know about Abbey?”

  The younger man shrugged. “He seemed interested in her career. He wanted to know how long she’d been a stormship sailor. If the rumors about her killing Captain Tor and Dahlia were true. Stuff like that.”

  Benjamin felt his pulse quickening. On the one hand, Abbey wasn’t exactly a rare conversational topic in Holdgate. Though the people had ostracized both him and his daughter for years for being from Arcadia, recently the city had embraced them. Ever since Tor’s attempted raid on Holdgate, Abbey had become a folk heroine in the city. Her status grew with each new feat, and the exaggerations increased with each retelling.

  But something about this situation felt off. Why would someone who was casually interested in Abbey come into his shop looking for him? “What did you tell him?”

  “I don’t know Abbey, so I couldn’t tell him much. Just the stories I’ve heard about her heroics. The man hung on every word.” A grin appeared on his face. “Is it possible he’s a suitor? Maybe someone Abbey hasn’t told you about?”

  “If he were a suitor, it would seem unlikely he’d be showing up at my former shop fishing for basic information.” He paused a moment, thinking. “Do me a favor—let me know if he shows up again. I’d like to have a word with him.”

  Benjamin spent the next half hour helping get things situated and answering Augustus’ questions about the equipment. Eventually he got the feeling he was doing little more than distracting the young blacksmith from his work and the man was asking questions he already knew the answers to just to be polite.

  Benjamin took one last look around the shop and promised himself he wouldn’t come back here again. He needed to give himself a clean break. He said goodbye and took his leave.

  As he was walking away from the shop, he was startled by a man rushing toward him.

  “Jarvi!” he said with surprise. “You’re back.”

  The old man looked scragglier than the last time Benjamin had seen him. His beard was a wild mess of dirty whiskers and his road-worn clothes were filthy, but there was a liveliness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. All in all, Benjamin would have to say his travels had agreed with him.

  Jarvi grabbed Benjamin by the arm. “It’s good to see you, old friend. We need to talk.”

  “Of course. Shall we chat over lunch?”

  “There’s no time,” Jarvi said, his voice urgent. “I’ve been in Algon, and I’ve been in the mountains. Something is happening. We’re in danger, especially our stormships.”

  Benjamin blinked hard. The only danger he was aware of were the Barskall. Stormships?

  Jarvi squeezed his arm hard. “We need to talk to the magistrate and have him call a council of Storm Captains and Storm Callers. They need to hear about this now. We have to make sure no more stormships leave port until we have a handle on this thing. It’s death to go out on those waters.”

  The color drained from Benjamin’s face.

  “What’s wrong?” Jarvi asked.

  “It’s Abbey.” He swallowed hard. “If what you’re saying is true, she’s in grave danger. The Foggy Day set sail this morning.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Abbey got up early the next morning and walked the deck. It was a habit she’d learned from Syd when that woman had been first mate of this ship. Get up before the rest of the day crew, and be on deck at the start of every shift. It set a nice tone for what was expected.

  What she saw this morning brought a frown to her face. Dag, the new recruit she’d fought Clemens over, was leaning against the railing looking east, watching the sun rise over the water.

  Abbey took a deep breath, forcing the anger down, and sidled up next to him. She stood silently for a long moment, waiting for him to notice her. When he didn’t, she spoke. “Beautiful sunrise.”

  He flinched, clearly startled, but then he nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Maybe the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.”

  “Well, you’ll see plenty of them on the stormships if you stick around.” She leaned a bit closer and spoke in a conspiratorial tone. “You know, there’s one place on this ship with an even better view of the sunrise.”

  “Yeah?” He seemed genuinely interested in where that place might be. If she hadn’t been so angry, she might have felt bad about how hard she was about to pull the rug out from under him.

  “Yeah. It’s this little spot you might have heard of called ‘the crow’s nest.’” She let her voice get louder now, raising her volume until she was yelling. “You know—the place you are supposed to be keeping watch so our enemies don’t sneak up on us and kill us in the night? You recall the crow’s nest?”

  He blinked hard. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I just wanted to stretch my legs a little so I didn’t—”

  “I asked you a question. Do you remember the crow’s nest?”

  The shift change was just about to take place and sailors were filing up onto the deck, ready to take their stations. The veterans grinned as they watched the spectacle, and the other recruits looked terrified. Dag was supposed to be the favorite recruit. If this could happen to him, it could happen to any of them.

  Dag had the lost look of someone who knew he was in trouble and was desperately trying to find a way out of it. “Yes, ma’am. I remember the crow’s nest.”

  “Then prove it.”

  Dag stared at her blankly. “Ma’am, I’m not sure how to—”

  “Get your ass up there!”

  What she wanted him to do finally clicked, and he oafishly climbed his way up to the crow’s nest. It took him four times as long as it would have taken a more experienced sailor.

  Abbey struggled not to smile. The anger was gone, replaced with the joy of putting a new recruit through the ringer.

>   She waited until he’d reached the top, then hollered up at him, “What the hell are you doing up there, Dag? Your shift’s over. Get down here!”

  Dag blinked down at her for a moment with that dumb, confused look on his face, then quickly made his way down. When he reached the bottom he hesitated, not sure whether he was free to leave or needed to stick around for more berating.

  Abbey leaned close. “If you ever abandon your post again, I will tie you into that crow’s nest and not let you down for three days. Do not make me do that. I have better uses for line than tying up your sorry ass. Understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he answered immediately.

  “Good. You’re to spend the morning scrubbing the bulkheads below deck. I want them as clean as they’d be if I did them myself. And I’m a very diligent scrubber. You can go.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice.

  Abbey shook her head. Dag would make a fine sailor one day, and he’d regale recruits with the story of the time Abbey had gone after him for abandoning his post.

  She turned and saw Captain Syd standing behind her, arms crossed and a sly smile on her face. “Some people say I promoted you to first mate too quickly. I wish those people could have seen that display of discipline. There isn’t a crusty old sailor in the fleet who could have done it better.”

  “Well,” Abbey replied, “when it comes to crusty, I had a great teacher.”

  The next three hours passed in the combination of hard work, boredom, and danger that was life aboard a stormship. They had a nice wind at their backs thanks to Dustin, and the sky was clear. The recruits were pleasantly shaken, and they all found an excuse to be anywhere Abbey wasn’t, lest they suffer the same fate as their friend Dag.

  Abbey spent some additional time with their non-Holdgate crew members. Gideon, Hekla, Fannar, and Sigmund weren’t exactly new recruits, but they weren’t experienced sailors either. They needed all the help they could get.

  She was walking the main deck when she noticed the water getting a bit choppy. Very odd, especially with Dustin at the prow. She was about to head his way to make sure he was all right when a signal came down from crow’s nest, now occupied by Elliot.

  A ship was approaching from the southeast.

  By the time she made it to Dustin, clouds were beginning to gather overhead and a light rain was falling.

  “Think it’s a stormship?” Abbey asked.

  Dustin shook his head slowly. “Wouldn’t make sense. It’s too far away.” He paused for a moment, gripping his staff. “This weather’s pushing back too hard for just some light rain, though. It doesn’t want to be quelled. It’s almost as if…”

  He left the thought unfinished as he stared toward the approaching ship. He didn’t have to complete it. Abbey knew what he was thinking.

  “It’s a Barskall Storm Caller.” She cursed under her breath. In all the excitement of the battle near the Farrows and the voyage to Gren, she’d lost focus on the fact that Algon still had some Barskall Storm Callers. They’d been so quiet of late. This was a ship from Algon. It had to be. And Algon had proven itself to be no friend of Holdgate.

  But were they bold enough to attack a stormship in open water?

  Barskall Storm Callers were powerful in their own way, able to cast from a much farther distance than Holdgate Storm Callers. But up close? They wouldn’t stand a chance against even the least-skilled Storm Caller in the Holdgate fleet, let alone Dustin.

  In short, it would be suicide for an Algon ship to attack a stormship, and they had to know it.

  Abbey turned to Dustin. “Is it possible they don’t know we’re a stormship?”

  Dustin grimaced. “Possible, but damn unlikely. Their Storm Caller would almost certainly have felt me pushing against their weather.”

  “So what do we do?” Abbey asked. As much as she wanted to give him her advice, Dustin was the Storm Caller and this was very much his territory. “Should we wait for them to get close so we can be sure?”

  Dustin thought for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was firm. “No. There’s a Storm Caller attacking my ship. I’m not going to be cautious about this. I’m going to light them up.”

  Captain Syd stepped up behind them. “I was really hoping you’d say that.”

  ***

  “All right,” Abbey called as she marched around the deck, “go to combat positions! Dustin’s going to do his best to take care of them long-range, but prepare for the possibility of being boarded. If we need to fight up close, be ready.”

  Sailors scurried around the deck, preparing themselves for everything from rough waters to swordplay. That was the thing about stormship battles: you never knew if the enemy’s attack would come in the form of lightning, waves, or arrows.

  Abbey stuck her head through a hatch leading belowdecks and frowned at what she saw. “Dag, what are you doing”

  The young man looked up at her. “I’m scrubbing the bulkheads, ma’am. Like you said.”

  “We’re preparing for battle.”

  “You said to keep scrubbing until you told me otherwise.”

  She shook her head; recruits took everything so damn literal. “I’m telling you otherwise. Get ready for a fight.”

  Without waiting for a reply, she turned and took one more walk around the ship. Then she returned to where Syd and Dustin stood at the bow.

  “The crew are at their battlestations,” she told them.

  “Good,” Syd replied. “Whenever you’re ready, Storm Caller.”

  Abbey squinted across the water. She saw the ship and an island in the distance beyond it, but she also saw something else. “Dustin, wait. What is that?”

  A small figure was floating toward them above the water.

  They watched in silence as it drew closer at an alarming rate.

  “What the hell?” Syd asked. The annoyance was clear in her voice. She wanted to be in control of everything on her ship, and the unknown drove her crazy.

  Dustin leaned forward a little. “Is that…a person?”

  “No way.” But even as she said it, Abbey knew Dustin was right. The form in the distance was becoming clearer, resolving itself into a torso and four limbs.

  Abbey put a hand on the rail and started to climb onto it. “Dustin, give me wind? I need to get closer.”

  Captain Syd put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you crazy? We don’t have the slightest idea who that is or how the hell they’re doing that.”

  “That’s exactly why I need to investigate.”

  Syd thought for a moment, then gave a quick nod.

  “I’m just sending you out a little way,” Dustin said cautiously. “I’ll keep you hovering with a slight wind from below. Signal me if you want wind from any other direction.”

  “Aye aye.” She climbed onto the rail and jumped over the edge, reducing her weight as she started to fall. Dustin’s wind caught her when she was three feet above the water, and her stomach dropped as she rushed upward twenty feet. She ever-so-slightly increased her weight, just enough so she could maintain altitude, then signaled to Dustin to shoot her forward.

  When she was this light, the wind didn’t so much hit her as carry her. It was as if the world around her was moving and she was floating motionless. The ship, the island—all of it seemed to rush toward her. But especially the man, because he was moving toward her too.

  She raised a hand when she’d almost reached him, signaling Dustin to stop her forward motion, and she floated there, held aloft by the wind from beneath her. She stared at the strange man in front of her and was surprised to find she recognized him.

  It was the man from the Dibs. The one she’d assumed was a barkeep. He’d handed the staff to her and Clemens.

  She was floating ten feet above him, but even from this angle he looked taller than he had that night. His long black hair hung loose, and he wore an easy smile on his face. He exuded such confidence that it was hard for her to believe she’d overlooked him that night in the bar. That she’d mis
taken him for a simple barkeep. His eyes were pure black, a sure sign he was using physical magic to hover above the water.

  He was much more than just a barkeep. One look at this man told her he was a killer.

  “Hello, Abbey.” His voice carried easily despite his relaxed tone.

  “Sorry, you’re going to have to catch me up,” she said. “I never got your name that night at The Drunken Bear.”

  His smile widened a little.

  She noticed that his ship was moving closer, and something in the back of her mind told her maybe she should be giving that fact more attention. But the way this guy was smiling…something about it made her skin crawl. Dread crept up inside her.

  “My name’s Simon. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

  Her eyes flicked toward the ship again. “What are you doing here?”

  He chuckled. “I’m here for you, Abbey. Because I feel sorry for you, and I want to help. You didn’t get to know her—not like I did. You were so young.”

  Her?

  “Listen, Simon, I’m not up for the games. If you have something to say, say it. Who didn’t I get to know?”

  He tilted his head as if surprised. “Our mother, of course.”

  She was so surprised that she didn’t know how to respond.

  After a moment of silence he continued, “Please understand that I genuinely want to help you, Abbey. I want to teach you the things you need to know, the things Mother would have taught you if she were still alive. Then we can be the family we were always meant to be. But I’m afraid the lessons are going to be painful. And they start now.”

  Simon’s hands suddenly burst into flame. If he felt any pain, he didn’t show it. He wore the fire like a pair of gloves.

  He raised both hands and flung the fire outward. Abbey raised a defensive hand, but the twin fireballs soared past her.

  “No,” she whispered, realizing Simon’s intended target.

  She turned just in time to see them slam into The Foggy Day. Screams of panic and surprise came across the water, and Abbey’s mouth fell open as her ship went up in flames.

 

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