by PT Hylton
The voice came from the blackened wreckage of the ship.
Abbey stood up in the boat, instinctively trying to get closer to the survivor. The man peered over the side of the ship at them with a smirk on his face.
His hands were engulfed in flames.
For a terrible and hopeful moment Abbey thought it was Simon, but another look at his face made her realize that was not the case. This man was at least thirty pounds heavier, and while he wore his hair in a similar style to Simon’s, his beard was fuller than the other man’s.
“I was really hoping someone would show up,” the man called to them. “I knew it was a longshot, but Simon destroyed this ship on a major fishing route in the hopes someone from Holdgate would stumble across it. And—lucky me—here you are.”
Abbey drew her sword. “Dustin…”
“I’m on it,” the Storm Caller replied.
A moment later she flew upward, riding Dustin’s wind. When she reached the edge of the ship, she stepped onto what remained of the deck and turned to face the man with the fire.
“Now that was unexpected,” he said.
“Who are you?” Abbey asked, her voice thick with anger. “Why are you doing this?”
The man chuckled. “I’m just a humble son of Arcadia. Or I was, before I followed Simon. Now I’m something more. I’m one of the Faithful. I’m a firehand, as you can see.” He raised his flaming hands proudly.
“You’re going to tell me where he is,” Abbey growled.
“If you think—”
“Shh,” Abbey said with a smile. “Don’t tell me yet. I want to hurt you a little first.”
With that, she dashed toward him. The deck was half-ruined and she had to leap over a few gaps where the pine boards had burned completely, but she found her way across.
She was almost to him when he raised his hand and threw fire at her. She rolled to her left and the flames soared past, missing her by a wide margin.
After seeing his attack, she relaxed a little. He had fire, yes, but it wasn’t like Simon’s. Those fireballs had moved through the air with the speed of an arrow and the power of a crashing wave. This was more like a man throwing a spear at her. That she could handle.
“Based on the little flying stunt, I assume you’re Abbey,” the man said, stalking toward her. “That means I’m not allowed to kill you. I don’t think Simon will mind if I burn you a little, though.”
He threw another fireball and again she managed to avoid it, ducking underneath. She stayed in a crouch after it flew by her.
As soon as the fire had left his hand, he walked forward again.
“You see, Abbey, Simon is more than a mentor. He’s shown me a new way of life. A way to be my best. You’ll see. He’ll show you, too.”
Abbey waited until he had almost reached her, then leapt toward him. She slashed his leg with her sword.
He let out a scream as her blade cut into the back of his thigh and fell to the deck, his flames disappearing as he grabbed his ruined leg.
Abbey straightened to her full height. “Maybe he should teach you some basic fighting strategy. You have fireballs, and I have a sword. Why the hell were you trying to get closer to me?”
His only answer was a groan of pain.
She shook her head sadly. “I’ve been waiting a day and a half to fight one of you idiots. You could have at least made it challenging.”
The man looked up at her, fury on his face. He raised one hand and his eyes went black.
The beginning of a flame formed in his hand, but she brought her sword down, driving it through his palm and pinning the hand to the deck.
“Well, at least you tried something,” she said. “I gotta give you credit for that. But now that your temper tantrum is over, how about I ask you some questions? We’ll start with an easy one. When did you burn this ship?”
“Go to hell!” His voice was strained with pain and anger.
Abbey leaned on her sword, and it cut deeper into his hand. He shouted in pain.
“Not the answer I was looking for. Try again.”
“A week! I’ve been here a week. We killed the crew, and Simon told me to wait in case a stormship found the wreckage!”
“Damn it all” Abbey muttered. She couldn’t concentrate on the people who’d already died, though. Not now. She needed to focus. “How many of you firehands does he have?” She leaned on the sword a little more to encourage his active participation in the conversation.
“Twenty!” he cried.
“Good. Where can I find Simon?”
Panic leapt into the man’s eyes. “I don’t know. Honest! He didn’t tell me his plans.”
His genuine fear made Abbey think he was telling the truth. “Okay, we’ll come back to that. Now, this next question you may be tempted not to answer, but I’m going to keep asking for as long as it takes. And the longer I have to ask, the crankier I’m going to get. Do you understand?”
The man nodded frantically.
“Good.” She crouched and spoke softly. “Everyone has something they love. I need to know what that is for Simon. What’s he care about more than anything else? In other words, how do I hurt him?”
It took a little more convincing, but eventually the man answered the question.
***
For a group of forty people with tied hands crammed together in a dark cargo hold, the crew of The Foggy Day were surprisingly pleasant to each other for the first two days. It wasn’t until the third day that Syd caught wind of trouble.
Despite her hopeful speech to her crew the day they were captured, Syd had no illusions. She did not believe she was going to get out of this alive. Simon didn’t seem the type to ransom hostages. He was the wrong kind of crazy for that. He was a schemer. He had some sort of plan for them, and it would involve somehow damaging Holdgate. Setting one of the stormship captains free probably wasn’t part of the plan.
However, she felt like there was a pretty decent chance for at least some of her crew to live. Abbey and Dustin were out there, and she did believe they’d do their best to save them. If anyone could pull off such an impossible task, it was them.
And now she had something else positive to focus on—Elliot had been taken away. Granted, she didn’t know exactly what had happened to him and it was possible it was something bad, but she didn’t think so. After all, the man had called for the three of them by name. She was hopeful they had been set free, maybe to carry a message back to Holdgate.
She convinced herself that they’d been freed, and she hung onto that as if it were an indisputable fact: Elliot was free. She was glad Gideon and Olaf were free too, of course, but her brother’s freedom was what gave her the strength to keep going, to keep giving hope to her crew.
So it was a bit disheartening when Melwin came to her that morning.
“Captain, people are talking.” He spoke in a low voice, not wanting to be overheard. That was impossible in this cramped space. Syd was sure at least four people were eavesdropping on their conversation, but it couldn’t be helped.
She knew from his tone that this wouldn’t be good news, but she tried to keep her voice chipper. “Yeah? What are people saying?”
Melwin leaned a bit closer. “It’s one of the recruits—Dag. You know him?”
Of course she knew him. It was a dumb question. Even if she hadn’t known every member of her crew before this, she’d been stuck in a hold with them for three days. She sure as hell knew him now.
Besides, the kid had been Abbey’s first pick at the Dibs. Syd had made a point of getting to know him.
“Yeah, what about him?”
Melwin hesitated. “People are saying he’s…he’s giving the other recruits trouble. Taking their rations.”
Syd tilted her head. “Dag?”
It was difficult to imagine that skinny little guy intimidating anyone out of their food. He was the smallest of the new recruits by far.
On the other hand, Abbey had selected him for a reason, and Syd h
ad agreed with the choice. The kid had the fire in his eyes.
“All right,” she told Melwin. “I’ll talk to him.”
Over the course of the next hour, she slowly made her way across the hold to where Dag and the other recruits had stationed themselves. She stopped and spent a few minutes chatting with each person she passed, doing what she could to raise their spirits. Some complained about the way the ropes were rubbing their wrists raw. Others wanted to talk about what they’d do when they got out of here. A few even asked Syd how she was doing.
She encouraged some, scolded others, and playfully insulted a few of them—whatever she felt would best lift their spirits.
When she finally reached Dag, she asked him to come with her to the least crowded part of the hold. It was no coincidence that this was also the area that held the waste buckets.
Not wanting to spend too long over there, she got right to the point. “I’m hearing troubling things, Dag. I’m hearing you’re giving some of the recruits problems over rations.”
He looked surprised, but after a moment he slowly nodded. “I guess I am.”
She resisted the urge to punch him in the eye. “Damn it all to hell! What were you thinking?”
He blinked hard. “Well, ma’am, I guess I was hoping I could handle it myself. I didn’t want to get you involved. Not yet.”
She tilted her head in surprise. That hadn’t been the response she was expecting. “Me? Don’t tell me you’re dumb enough to think you can take my rations too.”
Now Dag looked confused. After a moment, his eyes widened. “Wait, you think I’m stealing people’s food? That’s not it at all.”
“I need you to be honest, son. We’re in a bad situation here, and I don’t have time for bullshit.”
“I know,” he said quickly. “That’s part of why I didn’t want to bother you with this. You’ve got enough on your plate already.”
“Okay, clearly we’re not on the same page. What didn’t you want to bother me with?”
He hesitated. “I’m not one to snitch on my friends.”
She once again resisted the urge to smack the kid. “Look around. See where we’re at? We’re way beyond the ‘not snitching’ phase. If there’s something I need to know, you’d damn well better tell me.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay, yeah. You’re right.” He glanced nervously at the corner where the recruits were gathered. “Yesterday I noticed that a couple of the recruits were getting extra rations. I asked them about it and they denied it at first, but it was pretty hard to ignore once I’d noticed. I pushed on them a little, and they eventually told me the truth. Those Algonian bastards are giving them extra rations for passing along information on what people are talking about down here. Specifically, what you’re talking about.”
Syd’s eyes narrowed. Only three days, and some of her crew had already sold her out?
“After I caught them they tried to cut me in on the deal, but like I said, I don’t snitch on my friends. Or my captain.”
Syd rubbed her chin, thinking. It really pissed her off that her crew would betray her for a little more hardtack. Not that she’d said anything that valuable for them to pass along. Not yet, anyway, but perhaps she could use this to her advantage.
“Do me a favor, Dag. Tell them you’ve reconsidered. Tell them you’ll pass along every word I say.”
Dag grinned, quickly catching on. “I can do that, ma’am. And what should I tell them I heard you saying?”
Now Syd smiled. This was going to be fun.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Ah, Algon.” Dustin paused, breathing in the sea air through his nose. “City of Spires.”
Abbey watched the city as they approached. She could see the numerous tall buildings, each higher than the tallest in Holdgate. The harbor was crowded, too. Most of the ships were smaller than the ones she was used to seeing back home, but the sheer number was impressive.
“You know, they say Algon was one of the main trading hubs after the Mad Days,” Dustin remarked thoughtfully. “Jarvi used it as a base of operations for a while, back when he was establishing trade routes. I think about that every time I come here. I wonder what it was like back then? Did the people in those days ever imagine it would grow into the city it is today? I never get tired of floating into this port.”
Abbey glanced at him distractedly. Hekla was listening with rapt attention, but Abbey had been traveling with him too long to buy into his bullshit. “You’ve never been to Algon before, have you?”
He grinned. “Nope. My mentor Harald made sure we avoided any actual fun destinations. If it was anything more than a desolate rock, we didn’t go there. It really is called the City of Spires, though. I saw that written on a map.”
“I don’t know—sounds made up.”
Abbey angled their skiff toward an empty spot at the dock. She hoped their arrival didn’t attract too much attention. Considering their humble vessel and the number of more notable ships in port, she didn’t think that would be a problem.
“Come to think of it,” Dustin continued, “we did stop by a village during a festival once when I was twelve. I’m pretty sure that was just an accident, though. Harald made up for the mistake by making me study maps by candlelight for the next five nights.”
When they reached the docks, a woman quickly ran over to collect the docking fee. When she told them the price of docking for a single day, Abbey did a doubletake. It would cost most of their already meager funds.
Abbey glanced at Dustin. “‘City of Spires’ you said? More like ‘city of greedy bastards trying to milk travelers for every last iron piece.’”
“Accurate, but I’m not sure it would fit on a map,” Dustin said dryly.
The woman just frowned at them as she collected their payment.
When she was gone, Dustin turned to Abbey. “By the way, remind me to keep more money in my robes so the next time our ship sinks we can afford lunch and a docking fee.”
Hekla stepped onto the dock. “You’re in a chipper mood.”
Dustin considered that a moment, then shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it ‘chipper.’ I mean, my ship sank and my crew is currently being held captive. I guess it just feels good to have a plan.”
“Agreed.” Abbey had gotten the information she needed from the firehand on the wreck of Wave Break and left him there, alive but wounded. She didn’t know if he’d make it back to safety, and she didn’t much care. Her plans would be in motion long before he could get word to Algon to warn anyone.
As they walked, Abbey noticed the streets were less crowded than she would have thought, considering how many ships were in harbor. There was a little light foot traffic, but everyone seemed to be hurrying to some destination or another. There wasn’t the usual milling around and chatting she usually saw near docks. Sailors were the greatest carriers of news and gossip in the land and normally there were plenty of people hanging around, anxious to hear stories brought from foreign lands. The sailors were anxious too, wanting to hear the latest news from the port they’d just docked in.
That didn’t seem to be the case here.
Abbey decided to enjoy the quiet. It was late afternoon, and there was a gentle breeze blowing. She was walking in a new city with two good friends. With the many terrible things that were happening, it was nice to take a moment and enjoy the simple pleasures in life.
She saw a butcher shop ahead and smiled. “Hey, Dustin, you remember that time you got a job delivering meat for the butcher near my father’s shop?”
Dustin chuckled. “Man, I haven’t thought of that in years.”
“How long did you last, anyway? A day?”
“It was a solid day-and-a-half. In my defense, the butcher should have specified I couldn’t leave the entire delivery of fresh meat out in the hot sun for four hours while I went fishing. I blame his poor instructions.”
Hekla just shook her head. “Your childhoods were very different from mine.”
They rounded a corn
er and saw a young man shouting into the streets, “Learn magic and other skills! Get paid to learn! All are welcome!”
Abbey and Dustin exchanged a glance.
“What do you suppose this is all about?” the Storm Caller asked.
Abbey shrugged. “One way to find out.”
She marched up to the crier. “Hey, there. I’m interested in learning magic.”
He smiled widely. “Smart choice.” He nodded toward the docks. “Are you new in Algon?”
“We are,” Abbey said.
A glint appeared in his eye, similar to the glint that appears in the eyes of all conmen when they spot an easy mark. “Excellent. Let me be the first to welcome you to the City of Spires.”
Dustin nudged Abbey. “See?”
The young man continued, “Algon is the only city in the world where the only thing you need to learn magic is the willingness.”
“Is it true they can teach me fire magic?” she asked.
“Oh sure. Fire magic. Storm magic. Even that mystic shit. What’s it called?”
“Mystical magic?” Abbey offered.
“Yeah, that too.”
Dustin took a step forward. “What happens if I can’t learn magic? I heard some people struggle with it.”
“Have no fear on that front, my friend. If magic isn’t for you, we’ll teach you to fight. You’ll join the proud ranks of Algon’s standing army. You’ll defend our glorious city from the barbarian hordes in the north. All you have to do is go down to the school, sign your name, and we’ll take care of the rest.”
“Uh huh,” Abbey said skeptically. “And how long am I committed once I sign my name?”
His smile wavered, but only for a moment. “They’ll discuss those details at the school.”
Abbey raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going to the school until I know the details.”
The young man held up a hand. “Ah, you’re a smart one, I see. The look-before-you-leap type. I can respect that. Fine, I’m not really supposed to do this, but for you…” He gave her a slow look up and down.
“How long?” Hekla asked impatiently.
“You need only commit to a brief four years, and you’ll get your free magic training.”