The Lost City of Ithos: Mage Errant Book 4

by John Bierce

  Godrick snorted at that. “Yeh’re not wrong there. Ah can’t even tell yeh how many times ah’ve caught him bein’ disappointed at a cooking pot like it burnt the food ta’ spite him.”

  Artur returned carrying a pair of water barrels, one under each arm. So far as Hugh could tell, he wasn’t even using any spells to lighten them. Even ignoring how powerful a mage Artur was, he was kind of terrifying. They were smaller barrels, but each of them had to weigh considerably more than Hugh did.

  Artur set both down with a loud thud, then the nails simply flew out of the lid of one barrel. He snagged them out of the air and shoved them into one of his pockets before removing the lid.

  “Toss her in,” Artur said.

  Godrick looked askance at him, then shrugged and tossed the ring in the water. It sunk briefly, then bobbed immediately back to the surface.

  There was a loud crackling noise, and the ring began to grow, but not out across the surface of the water, as ice normally would. The center of the ring filled in, then expanded vertically. The water level in the barrel began to visibly drop as a shaft of ice began to rise from the water.

  Within five heartbeats, it had finished growing, the water level far below where it had started. The spellform-engraved shaft of ice rose up out of the water, bobbing faintly. The only reason it didn’t fall out of the barrel was that the tilt of the shaft was holding the bottom against the inside of the barrel.

  “Yeh goin’ ta pull it out or just look at it?” Artur asked Godrick with a smile.

  Another detonation came from Sabae’s direction, but they only spared her a glance as she picked herself up from the deck, dripping wet.

  Godrick reached out and touched the shaft.

  “It’s not as cold as ah was expectin’,” he said. “Still cold, but not painful ta’ hold.”

  “One a’ the enchantments on it,” Artur said. “Go on, then.”

  Godrick closed his fingers around it, then pulled it out of the barrel, revealing a massive hammerhead. As the water coursed off the ice, Godrick spun it, showing off the icicle-shaped spike coming from the back.

  “This is way bigger than any hammer ah’ve wielded before,” Godrick said. “Lighter, though.”

  “Ice doesn’t weigh as much as iron,” Hugh said.

  Godrick and Artur gave him almost identical looks with raised eyebrows.

  “Right,” Hugh said. “Sorry. Bit obvious.”

  “Ah named her Hailstrike,” Artur said. “And yeh and Hugh are goin’ ta be spendin’ a lot a’ time trainin’ with ice over the next few days. There isn’t any naturally occurin’ stone in the Ylosa River delta, which is a’ big disadvantage for both a’ yeh. An’ ice isn’t near as easy ta’ use as normal stone is.”

  “What about you, sir?” Hugh asked.

  Artur sighed. “Yeh call me sir again, and ah’ll throw yeh in the ocean. Yeh’re a great friend ta’ me son, yeh’ve saved his life on multiple occasions, and yeh’re pleasant company. As far as ah’m concerned, yeh’re the next thing ta family, so call me by mah name.”

  “Yes, si… I mean, Artur,” Hugh said, a little uncomfortable. He couldn’t help but smile, though. “But won’t you be at the same disadvantage in the delta without stone?”

  Artur chuckled. “Don’t yeh worry about me, Hugh. Ah’m never at a disadvantage.”

  As he eyed the stone mage’s broad smile, Hugh was really, really glad Artur was on his side.

  They all turned at the sound of Talia yelling and cursing. She appeared to be covered in live, panicking eels, and Hugh’s spellbook was hovering excitedly nearby.

  Hugh sighed. “I really don’t think my spellbook understands how apologies or apology gifts work.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  A Ship Lives Up to Its Name

  Midmorning the next day, the Rising Cormorant was preparing to sail straight into another storm.

  Alustin had eventually won his argument with Captain Grepha, and he and Artur had spent the rest of the day training Hugh and his friends mercilessly. Hugh hadn’t minded being worked so hard in the slightest. When he was busy, his brain wasn’t the useless morass of confusion it had been lately. By evening, Hugh had been so tired he fell asleep the instant he crawled into his bunk.

  Of course, Godrick was already asleep in the lower bunk when Hugh had gotten to their cabin. Hugh had forced himself to take the time for an important conversation with Artur. He’d needed to talk to someone, and he didn’t feel comfortable talking to his friends about it, and even considering how open his conversations with Kanderon had been lately, he didn’t think she’d fully understand.

  He considered talking to Alustin about it, but somehow he couldn’t imagine Alustin giving him non-ridiculous advice.

  It was still on his mind the next morning, though he tried to turn his thoughts to more immediate matters.

  “So, uh… you still haven’t told us what this is supposed to do,” Hugh said from where he stood in the bow.

  “That would ruin the fun,” Alustin said, from his perch atop the railing.

  “Just… funnel mana into the figurehead?” Hugh said, gesturing at the carved wooden cormorant, bigger than Godrick or Artur.

  “That feather right there,” Captain Grepha said irritably, pointing at an innocuous section of carving.

  “And make sure to use that secret technique Sabae taught you,” Alustin said.

  Hugh glanced back to the base of the foremast, where Godrick, Artur, Talia, and much of the crew stood watching. He took a deep breath, then envisioned the windlode spellform in his mind’s eye. Immediately, he felt the aether around him respond, almost like it was twitching, and he hadn’t even started funneling mana into the spellform yet. Given the sheer number of storms in the region— now close to two dozen, both over land and sea— the aether had thickened far, far more than it had during the sandstorms Hugh had survived in the Endless Erg.

  “Any time now,” Captain Grepha said, as they drew closer and closer to the unnaturally sharp rear edge of the storm. This one wasn’t moving anywhere near as fast as the first, and the wind mages were easily able to push the ship fast enough to catch up to it.

  “If you’re not comfortable, I can take the first shift, Hugh,” Sabae said. “But you’ll do fine.”

  Hugh gave her a nervous smile. He’d never cast the windlode spellform directly before, only built it into wards. Its mana had also never run directly through him before. Sabae had said it should be fine, as long as he didn’t try to cast any spells, but…

  “Any time now,” Captain Grepha repeated.

  Hugh took one more deep breath, placed his finger against the carved wooden feather, and reached out to it mentally. He felt a link form between his mana reservoirs and the figurehead, and then Hugh pushed some of his mana into the windlode. It ran through the lines of the spellform floating in his mind’s eye, then came out the other end, but when it did, it came out leading a flood of mana straight from the aether. With an effort of will, Hugh connected the windlode mana to the figurehead, and the wooden cormorant began to draw on the storm aether.

  It didn’t feel pleasant in the slightest. The sheer amount of mana rushing through him was more than he’d ever experienced, save for when he had attuned his aether crystal and formed his spellbook during the construction of the stormward around Theras Tel.

  Hugh could feel the mana being sucked through the figurehead and into a set of truly massive artificial mana reservoirs somewhere belowdecks. He could feel multiple enchantments connecting into them— at least four of them— but only two started drawing on the mana. There was something of a delay as the artificial reservoirs began to convert the unattuned aether from the storm into what Hugh suspected was water mana, as well as two other types of mana he couldn’t identify.

  “We’re sinking,” Sabae said. “Are… are we supposed to be sinking right now?”

  “Why, yes,” Alustin said. “Yes we are.”

  Hugh looked away from the back of the wooden co
rmorant and realized that Sabae was right. The swells were considerably closer to the deck than they’d been before.

  The Rising Cormorant was sliding down into the waves smoothly and without protest.

  “Do you know why the Radhan named this ship the Rising Cormorant?” Alustin asked, stepping off the railing.

  The water kept rising around the ship, and Hugh swallowed, but he kept his hand pressed to the feather. He actually could have let go if he wanted— he only needed to be in a certain physical proximity to channel mana into the figurehead— but he didn’t move his hand at all.

  “Alustin?” Captain Grepha said.

  “Yes, Captain?” Alustin replied.

  “Shut up. I’ll tell it. You’re just guessing,” the captain said.

  Alustin sighed dramatically.

  “Have you ever watched a cormorant hunt?” the captain asked Hugh and Sabae.

  Sabae nodded, and Hugh shook his head.

  “Cormorants dive deep,” Grepha said. “They swim farther down than any other seabird while fishing— sometimes multiple ship lengths beneath the water. They’re not the most graceful fliers. Their wings are short and they have to work harder than any other seabird to take to the air and stay there. Beneath the water, though…”

  Grepha trailed off as the sea rose to the deck. Hugh winced, sure it was about to wash through the gaps in the railing.

  But it didn’t. The water just kept rising along the sides of the railing, then atop it, as though there was an invisible wall keeping the water out.

  “Beneath the water,” Grepha continued, “they’re among the most graceful of hunters. They’ll pursue schools of fish, explore nooks and crannies in submerged rocks, and easily evade sharks and other marine hunters.”

  The walls of water kept rising and rising— past Hugh’s head, then to the level of the sails. The walls subtly ballooned outward as they rose, so only the tips of the yardarms touched the water. They dug into the walls and trailed wakes behind them. Hugh realized they were still moving forwards as they sank.

  “And when cormorants rise from the depths,” Captain Grepha said, “they’re like arrows launched towards the sky.”

  The walls of water closed atop them, and the Rising Cormorant sank completely below the surface of the sea.

  When Talia had left Hold Castis to travel to Skyhold, escorted by three of her brothers, she’d doubted that she’d see anything so awe-inspiring as the sights of her home. She’d grown up in a high valley in the greatest mountain range in the world— amazing, awe-inspiring sights had been a regular occurrence for her. One of her earliest memories was of watching two dragons battle for dominance above a deep ravine whose bottom was barely visible, with snow-capped peaks on each side.

  She’d been so, so very wrong.

  Anastis seemed intent upon overwhelming her with its wonders at every turn. Skyhold, its library, Theras Tel, the great sandstorms of the Endless Erg, Lothal— it seemed as though she’d never run out of things to see.

  Talia had never seen anything even remotely like this, though. It wasn’t the grandest, or the most overwhelming sight she’d ever seen, but it was utterly unique.

  The light of the sun filtered gently down through the waves. Ripples of light and shadow cast by the waves flickered gently across the deck, and Talia laughed as they raced across her outstretched arms.

  To either side of the Rising Cormorant, fish swam alongside, seemingly curious about the strange thing that had sunk into the water to join them. Several of the Radhan children were making a game of reaching through the invisible barrier that held back the water and trying to snatch smaller fish with their hands.

  In the distance to one side of the ship, Talia could see a school of dog-sized fish being pursued by some sort of brilliant red squid three times the length of a man.

  The light dimmed a bit as the ship sank farther, but the ship’s dive stabilized a few ship-lengths in depth.

  Talia wandered over to the other side and reached out her fingers, stopping inches away from the water. She hesitated for a moment, then dipped her fingertips into the wall of water.

  It just felt like… water. A little colder than at the surface, and with a notable current from the ship’s forward motion. Little wakes in the barrier formed behind her fingers, and she laughed in delight.

  “Haven’t heard you sound this happy in a while,” Sabae said from behind her.

  Talia plunged her arm fully into the water, then whipped it out, splashing Sabae.

  Or, tried to, at least. The water she sent towards Sabae got caught in an invisible current rotating around the taller girl’s torso, before being sent spiraling down one arm, which Sabae leveled at Talia.

  “I surrender! Have mercy,” Talia said, raising her arms in defeat.

  Her splash had hit Godrick, at least, who sighed heavily at her.

  Sabae rolled her eyes at Talia, then sent the water blasting into the wall of water. It splashed, but the water droplets sent cascading away from the wall fell back against it, as though the wall were down and not to the side.

  Godrick’s clothes dried out, presumably from a cantrip.

  “This is amazing,” Talia said. “How could I not be happy?”

  “Ah’d have ta’ agree,” Godrick said. “Yeh might be used ta’ this sort a’ sight, Sabae, but fer the rest a’ us…”

  “Some of my aunts and uncles would regularly take the children down to the bottom of Ras Andis harbor at high tide,” Sabae said, walking over to the wall. “They’d form a big bubble, and we’d walk around the bottom of the harbor in it, catching crabs and scaring fish. In my first few months living at Stormseat after my father died, it was one of the only things that ever really made me happy. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until now.”

  Talia reached up and squeezed Sabae’s shoulder.

  Godrick walked over to the wall beside them and stood staring out. In the distance, Talia could see what she thought might be a sea turtle with a shell as broad as a man was tall.

  “Pretty romantic down here, ah think,” Godrick said.

  Talia gave him a confused look.

  Her friend sighed. “Yeh should go talk ta’ Hugh again.”

  Talia glanced at the bow of the ship, where Hugh was standing with Alustin and Captain Grepha.

  “He’s busy,” Talia said. “And I told him I’d give him space to think.”

  “There’s a difference between giving him space and avoiding him like he’s poisonous,” Sabae said. “Go talk to him. Doesn’t need to be any sort of serious conversation or anything. Whatever else he is, he’s still your friend.”

  Talia opened her mouth to give some sort of excuse, then closed it. She looked back out to sea, where the shape had resolved itself as definitely a sea turtle. Several more turtle silhouettes were visible as well past it.

  “Do you really think I should?” Talia asked quietly.

  Her friends both nodded at her— Sabae exasperated, Godrick encouraging.

  Talia took a deep breath and carefully adjusted her headwrapping. Then she turned and started walking towards Hugh.

  She made it three steps before she turned and darted back towards the other two.

  “Alright, really though,” she said. “Have either of you talked to Hugh about all this? Is there anything you can tell me?”

  Sabae just glared and crossed her arms, while Godrick just smiled and shook his head.

  “Ah offered,” Godrick said. “He declined, though. Whatever he decided, he wanted yeh to know before me or Sabae.”

  “Go,” Sabae said. She gave Talia a gentle shove.

  “He really wouldn’t tell you?” Sabae asked, as they watched Talia slowly walk towards the bow of the ship, trailing her fingers in the water.

  Godrick shook his head. “He really wouldn’t. Said it wasn’t fair to Talia if he did.”

  “Hugh really does have a little bit of a romantic streak, doesn’t he?” Sabae asked Godrick. “There was that thing with the fo
untain in Theras Tel, too.”

  Godrick nodded at that. “Do yeh ever wonder what Hugh might have been like if his parents never died, and he didn’t get so… broken?”

  “All the time,” Sabae admitted. “But I also feel like we may have never gotten a chance to meet him then. Who knows what his parents might have done when he showed the first signs of magic.”

  Sabae glanced towards the stern. Several of the ship’s water mages had pulled great spheres of seawater inside the ship, some filled with schools of small fish. The Radhan children and a few older youths leapt in and out of the bubbles, swimming around in them and leaping between them. And, for that matter, so was Artur— he’d taken up residence in the largest floating sphere, only his head and shoulders jutting out of the water. He was laughing uproariously as children swarmed him, trying to dunk his head inside the bubble.

  She noticed Yarra and Tollin, each standing with a different group, and both clearly ignoring one another, and Sabae, for that matter. Dell sat on a crate reading a book— he was thoroughly irritated with all three of them for being dramatic idiots at the party.

  “I think Hugh’s going to say no,” Sabae confessed as she turned back to Godrick. “I think Talia’s about to get her heart broken. They’ve known each other long enough that if Hugh were going to develop feelings for her, he would have shown something ages ago. And confessions of love don’t just make people fall in love themselves.”

  Godrick raised an eyebrow at her, then slid his new ice ring off his finger, closed it in his fist, and shoved his fist into the water. His hammer began growing out in the water.

  “It’s a bit slower in salt water than fresh water,” Godrick said.

  Sabae crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows back at him.

  “Remember what Talia told us Hugh said?” Godrick asked. “About how when Talia confessed that she was jealous, he thought she was jealous a’ him, and had a crush on Avah?”

  Sabae shrugged. “I mean, it’s Hugh, he’s notoriously thick about these things.”