“I… I have a question, Captain,” she said. She glanced around and saw him waiting patiently for her to continue. “I thought I might be crazy, but, well, then I found this under my pillow.”
She took something from a pouch at her belt and laid it on the table. Dexter looked at it and felt the very room shift around him and threaten to throw him from his chair. It was the knife Kragor had used to carve spare chunks of wood; the same knife that Dexter had seen the ghostly Kragor using; and the same knife that Jodyne had tucked into the pouch on Kragor’s body before it had been committed to the void.
“How did you get that?” he whispered.
“It was beneath the pillow on my bunk,” she responded. “I saw a dwarf on the deck one day… not Jodyne, another one. I… I looked around but saw no one else who took notice. He was carving a piece of wood and he looked right at me.”
Willa took a deep breath before continuing. “I walked up to him and asked him who he was and what he was doing. He ignored me at first, finishing up the carving he was working on. When finally looked up at me, he smiled and winked. I turned to ask for some help, but he was gone when I looked back.”
“Kragor,” Dexter breathed.
“You know him?”
He nodded and leaned back. “I can see him at times. He was my best friend,” he said softly. “My first mate and also the man that made this ship possible. He rebuilt it from the hulk I found drifting in space.”
“Jodyne’s husband,” Willa said, connecting the dots. Dexter nodded.
“Why would I see him? I never knew him.”
Dexter could only shake his head. “I don’t know, Willa. Perhaps there’s something about you he likes. He had a great sense of adventure and an equally great sense of humor… for a dwarf. It seems he wanted you to have that,” he said, pushing the knife back to her. “Have you any skill with working wood?”
Willa shrugged. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t know how good I’d be, honestly… I mean, I can’t hold a piece and carve on it at the same time.”
Dexter smiled reassuringly for her. “Keep it all the same, perhaps you’ll find a use or meaning for it.”
“And if you see Kragor again,” Dexter said thoughtfully. “Keep to yourself. He appears when he is wanting to. His spirit is a boon, not a curse. A truer friend you’ll not easily find.”
She nodded and slipped the knife back in her pouch. She stood up and thanked him again for his time, then slipped out of his cabin. Dexter took a deep breath and blew it out after she was gone. It seemed there would always be some new way to confuse and complicate things. He smiled and reached for his ale; he supposed there was no other way he would prefer it.
* * * *
Rain kept the Voidhawk grounded for three days. Xander surmised that the unnatural disturbance of the weather had messed up the ecology of the weather system. Dexter had not bothered to ask him to explain what that meant, he just lumped it under the topic of ‘magic causes problems’. The benefit of the short layover was the first of the ingredients for Xander was delivered early the first morning, and he set to immediately concocting his potions. Due the fragility of the work, the Voidhawk was forced to stay grounded for an additional two days until he had fashioned enough of them to generate nearly 60 potions.
Dexter saw to it that the net yield General Havamyr’s troops would have to use was only 50 of the potions, leaving enough for the ship’s stores.
When next they flew they took aloft with them several extra men, three squads of ten men each, with an additional ten in command and support roles. Their mission was to go behind the enemy lines and secure some ruins. Dexter saw no use to the quest, but General Havamyr reassured him that it was a key strategic position to occupy.
They flew high above the enemy, proving that they were immune to the best they had to throw at them. Dexter fought the urge to laugh at how impervious ground forces were to them all. His mood was further spoiled by the sheer overcrowding that took place aboard his vessel. Men were crammed aboard fore and stern castles, rolling an occasional barrel of alchemist’s fire over the side to confuse and disrupt their enemy. They sailed on, leaving the scene of their bombing behind and using the occasional clouds as cover.
When Jenna spotted the ruins, she called out and Dexter rattled off the commands to bring them closer to it so that the soldiers could leap from the sides. The leader of the soldiers, a captain by the name of Aidan, was good natured but stern. They chanced something that had never been tried before, something that involved magic. Few soldiers were comfortable entrusting their lives to magic, and he was no exception.
He waited for Dexter to nod before he addressed his soldiers. “Men, remember to fall a fair bit before you drink the potion,” he told them. “And take care how you open it, lest it spill out and you reach the ground before it does!”
A few of his men let off nervous chuckles.
“Follow me!” He said, then turned and, with a deep breath, he leaped from the side of the hovering Voidhawk. He sailed gracefully through the air for all of a second, then gravity claimed him properly and he plummeted towards the ground. Others followed suit, almost appearing to Dexter as though they were in a race to reach the ground first.
The crew of the Voidhawk watched them fall, fascinated. Some spread their arms and legs and fell at a slower rate, while others plummeted either feet first or head first towards the ground.
“Fascinating!” Xander said as he studied the aerodynamics of the movements.
Dexter looked at him and shook his head. Only a wizard, he mused.
When next Dexter looked down he saw a few of the more nervous men had already quaffed their potions. Their rate of fall had decreased considerably. So much so, in fact, that he figured it would take them many minutes to reach the ground. He chuckled a little at that, figuring they were so frightened of the height and the fall, and now they would have to endure it longer.
“Captain, what’s that?” Rosh called out, pointing. Dexter looked over and saw a darker cloud hanging below the others breaking apart. Streaks of it converged on the falling men. He heard a few screams and saw one of the slower falling ones jerking as the gray shadows of mist passed close by him.
Dexter turned to Xander, hoping for an answer. Clearly it was some magical defense, but of what he knew not. It was Bailynn who came to the rescue.
“Wind spirits,” she called out, her voice trembling a little. “They are beings of air that were set to guard this place from the skies.”
Dexter cursed and turned quickly away from the scene below. “To your stations!” He yelled. “We’ve got to get down there and help!”
“Captain, you can’t help them!” Xander said. “Only magic can ward off these things, and we’ve nowhere near enough of it.”
“Maybe we can distract them then,” Dexter said. “At least let them get low enough to hide on the ground.”
Xander hesitated, looking downward again. He frowned and then nodded. “Yes… yes that will work. If they are truly bound to the air, they cannot do harm to anything that is channeling another element.”
“Get to work or get out of the way!” Rosh snapped at him as he moved past and tied a sail off.
“What do you mean, channeling another element?” Dexter asked.
Xander scrambled out of Rosh’s way and said, “If they’re on the ground they will be in contact with another element. Beings of air will be far less powerful against them.
Dexter nodded and focused on calling out orders to get the Voidhawk down to help out as soon as possible. They dived through the air, falling as quickly as any of the soldiers had, yet remaining in control.
With such a large target available, the wind spirits broke off their assault upon the soldiers and assaulted the Voidhawk. Flying became a secondary concern as they streaked throughout the decking, passing through the smallest of places to brush up against the crew. Each touch was filled with razor sharp coldness, leaving cuts and scratches behind. The c
rew of the plunging ship fought back, swinging weapons and objects close at hand, but to no avail. Bailynn and Keshira alone had any success against them, their bodies having been enchanted to become weapons. Dexter drew his long sword and learned that it, too, caused the spirits pain.
Even with the three able to do damage to the magical beings, they were clearly outmatched. They all sported wounds, from scrapes and bruises to bleeding gashes, and the wind spirits were also tearing into the ropes and the sails, lessening the meager control the distracted crew had by the second.
“Take us down!” Dexter ordered, knowing they stood no chance of escape otherwise. “We’ll do no good fighting them if we’re doomed to fall and crash upon the ground below!”
The ship heaved as a line snapped, but they corrected quickly and brought the ship around. Moving as quickly as they could, the Voidhawk sailed through the sky and struggled to reach the ruins that the surviving soldiers were only now running to themselves. The hull scraped the tops of a few trees, then it slowed when an spirit brushed along the mainsail and caused the strained fabric to tear nearly in half.
Amidst shouting and frantic scrambling, they managed to roughly land the Voidhawk just beyond the outer edge of the ruins. They cleared the crumbling stone wall that stood some six feet tall and was filled with new gaps after the Voidhawk’s passing. Everyone was thrown from their feet by the landing. Even Bekka, snuggled safely into the helmsman’s chair, was tossed to the decking and slumped unconscious.
Dexter picked up his sword and scrambled to his feet, his other hand going to the bruise forming on his thigh from the railing he bounced off. He looked up, searching for the deathly vapors that attacked them. They zipped through the air but stayed clear of the ship, as though touching it hurt them.
“See, I told you they’d stay clear!” Xander said from where he lay sprawled on the deck.
“Great, now how do we get out of here?” Rosh said, unlimbering his great sword and ignoring the blood running down one arm and the side of his head.
Xander glanced at him, then up at the spirits. Open mouthed, he looked again at Dexter, who was mirroring Rosh’s question with his eyes. “I’ll figure it out,” he muttered, and rose to his feet.
The others, wounded, were either on their feet or struggling to get there. Jenna was at the side, peering into the ruins. “Throw some ropes down!” She ordered, moving to do so already.
Dexter hurried over to see what was going on. The soldiers, led by Aidan, converged on the Voidhawk, no doubt to offer aid. The first scream shattered the air and one of the warriors was cut down.
Another scream followed, spurring them to action. Several ran forward, heading towards the Voidhawk. Aidan grabbed a few, including one of the sergeants, and turned them back, heading towards the men that cried out. Several creatures leapt from their hiding spots in the ruins. Slightly smaller than a human, they possessed tails and lashed out with clawed. Their feline faces reveal grinning mouths filled with dagger-like teeth. Small but wiry and fierce, in open combat they were no match for the soldiers. In the tight and confusing quarters, however, they evened their numbers considerably.
“Captain, we should help,” Willa said, cradling a series of scratches along her forearm.
Dexter’s jaw flexed helplessly. “They’ll get here, we’ll fight them then,” he said.
“Dex,” Jodyne said, tossing a rope over the side and staring at him.
“This is our ship, they’ll be at a loss. We’ve no idea how many there be,” he argued.
“We ain’t s’posed to be here,” Rosh reminded them. “This ain’t our fight!”
Dexter looked at Rosh and nearly changed his mind at the man’s unusual agreement with him. He nodded and said, “Help them aboard, we’ll defend them here.”
“Bailynn, check on Bekka,” Jenna said, realizing the sorceress had not emerged yet. The small elven-touched girl nodded and hurried off, sliding gracefully down the staircase towards the bridge.
The men arrived singly and in pairs at the Voidhawk. They scampered up the ropes as quick as they could, sometimes having two or even three men on a rope at a time. Dexter and Rosh helped them aboard as they neared the railing, reaching down to pull them onward and upward. A few more were ambushed and cut down, but the majority that reached the ground made it back on board. Aidan and his men emerged from the ruins bloodied.
They neared the Voidhawk and a creature rose up from a pile of rubble. It leapt through the air, about to take Aidan by lethal surprise but a flash of silver through the air intercepted the beast. Jodyne’s dagger buried in it’s hip and the creature hissed in pain.
Aidan spun toward the hideous cry and called out to his men. They grabbed and bound the creature and, when it refused to stop wrestling against them, one of them clipped it on the head with the butt of his sword. Limp, they carried it to the side of the Voidhawk and hoisted it aboard. The other men scrambled upwards and waited for the impending attack by the cat-like natives of the ruins.
“My thanks,” Aidan said after he boarded, handing over the dagger Jodyne had thrown.
Jodyne nodded and took it from him, not smiling but nodding to show she respected and appreciated his gratitude.
Bailynn emerged from below, helping an unsteady Bekka to walk. The half-elf glanced around, trying to take in their new surroundings. Bailynn helped her to Dexter’s side but stayed back out of the way of his snapping orders to make ready for an attack.
“Going to make it?” Dexter asked Bekka.
“Just some dump shock,” she said, slurring her speech slightly.
Dexter nodded. Every pilot knew what it was like to be suddenly torn from the helm of a ship. To say it was disorienting was understating it. One moment you were one with the vessel, the next you were like a fish out of water, a fish that had gone from being a whale to a minnow in an instant. He shuddered in sympathy. A normal separation, where the change was gradual and the transition expected and accepted was far more preferable.
“Good, we should be busy right quick,” he said to her, offering her a brief but encouraging smile.
“Cap, they ain’t coming,” Rosh said, staring into the ruins and picking out occasional creatures hiding in the shadows.
“Why not?” Dexter demanded, turning to stare into the surrounding ruins.
“It’s their job to defend this place,” Logan said, his voice harsh and deep.
Several of them turned, surprised to hear him step up and volunteer the information.
“I was warned it might be guarded,” Aidan said, supporting the man.
“You know who they are?” Dexter asked.
Logan nodded. “An old and rare race, the Perryn. Mostly they live in the mountains, but it is said that some tribes live in old places. They guard them from men, fearful of the ancient secrets that might be released unto the world.”
“Captain, what are your orders here?” Dexter asked, turning to the soldier.
Aidan stared at him for a long minute, deciding what to tell. He looked around at his soldiers and then at Dexter’s crew. The shared blood made him relent.
He took a deep breath and let it go before speaking. “We are to penetrate into the center of this ruin. There is an old temple and within it a magical weapon that we can use to turn aside our foes. It will end the war in days instead of months, saving many lives.”
“The lives of Lord Falson’s faithful, that is,” Dexter said sarcastically.
Aidan did not deny the statement.
“What is the weapon?” Dexter asked him.
Aidan shrugged. “I do not know. Some magic or other.”
Dexter studied him for a moment then nodded. He believed the man. “What about these… Perryn?”
“I was told it would be guarded, but we didn’t know about them,” he said.
“Well, you’ve got one with you, I suggest you ask him,” Dexter said.
“As for us, as soon as we can fix the ‘Hawk and figure out a way to get past those damned mi
st-devils, we’ll be heading back.”
Aidan opened his mouth but then closed it and nodded. He wanted them to stay and help, or at least offer them a ride back. It was not his place to ask though, and he had his own problems to worry about. He was down nearly a quarter of his men already, and with the savage defenders waiting for them, he knew it would be a bloody job getting to the temple.
“Double the watch,” Dexter said to his crew. “Captain, can you add some of your men’s eyes to it as well? I don’t like this place.”
Aidan nodded and issued the order to assist the Voidhawk’s crew however possible. Dexter could not help but like the man, even though they seemed to have very different paths and goals in life.
“Rosh, think you can help me figure out how to fix some of the damage? Bekka, when you’re able, can you mend the sails?”
Bekka nodded.
“Captain, can I help?”
Dexter turned to Willa “I expect everybody to help,” Dexter said. “Do what you can.”
She nodded and looked to Rosh, who was busy peering over the edge at some of the damage done by the crash to the hull and landing struts. He sighed and shook his head, then glanced over at Dexter. He shrugged at his knowledge of what to do to fix the ship, but headed for the stairs to check the hold and see if they had been breached anywhere.
Dexter nodded after the man left. He may not know what to do, and he might be complicated and difficult at times, but given a task he would do everything he could to figure it out. Rosh might be short on wit and education, but he could figure things out and had a stubborn streak that would see him through to the end of a given task.
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