by John Bierce
Hugh realized he’d stopped letting mana funnel into the figurehead, and rapidly reassembled the spellforms in his mind’s eye. Thankfully, the ship’s mana reservoirs hadn’t drained enough to cause a problem.
“Hugh?” Talia asked.
“I just… wasn’t getting anywhere trying to think it through, and I didn’t think it was fair to talk to Sabae or Godrick, so… I went to Artur last night,” Hugh said. “And I told him about the whole situation, and how I felt, and how I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“What did he say?” Talia asked.
“He said there was no way around hurting you, either way, because that happens in every relationship,” Hugh said. “All you can do is try and make things better afterward, and try not to repeat the same mistakes.”
He paused, then grinned. “He also told me I was being an indecisive idiot and to just tell you how I feel already.”
“So just to be clear, this means we’re dating now, right?” Talia asked.
Hugh kissed her again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Conspirators
When they arrived at the third site, the Havathi were already there. No less than four privateers were sailing above them. None approached the size of the Rising Cormorant, but given their heavy armament and contingents of battle mages and Sacred Swordsmen, half that many would have been more than sufficient to take down the Radhan merchant ship.
Thankfully, the war ammonite wasn’t one of the ships. The spiral-shelled squid-kin were sometimes captured young and trained to stay on the surface as war ships. Their tentacles hung deep underwater, though, meaning it was the greatest danger of any of the Havathi-funded ships.
They never even realized the Cormorant was there.
It took Sabae and Hugh both channeling the windlode into the ship’s enchantments to let it go deep enough to evade the Havathi water mage affinity senses. The deeper the ship went, the more mana it consumed, at surprisingly disproportionate rates. Not to mention, the third site was a localized low mana zone, so it was much harder to get enough mana into the enchantments than normal.
Alustin was able to finish his readings in just a few minutes, and they were able to move on rapidly.
“Something bizarre is going on here,” Alustin muttered out loud, glaring at his notes, then at the water around him. “It’s like a mana desert, but not exactly.”
Sabae arched an eyebrow at him.
“The aether in mana deserts is simply less permeable to mana,” Alustin said. “This is permeable to surprisingly large amounts of mana, but it just moves incredibly slowly through it. I’m not sure what to make of it. It’s definitely not what we’re looking for, and probably just a curiosity, but it’s probably worth an expert in these sorts of things investigating it in the future. Otherwise, though, the only notable thing about it is the sheer number of curious squid.”
Sabae just grunted and turned back towards the water.
It was much darker at these depths, and the ship’s glow-crystals were dimmed to the absolute minimum needed for the crew to work, so the Havathi above couldn’t spot their lights. Light from the sun still penetrated down this far, but the water below them was a deep, inky blue that her eyes couldn’t penetrate. They were even deeper than she had gone while rescuing Dell from the sea serpents. Sabae thought she could see something shifting down there, but she wasn’t sure.
“Hugh?” she asked. “Can you see down into the water below?”
Hugh looked up from his quiet conversation with Talia, confused.
“What?” he asked.
Sabae rolled her eyes. While she was happy that Talia and Hugh were a thing now, they were in classic new couple mode. Less making out in public than Hugh and Avah, but they were clearly both having trouble paying attention to anything but each other.
“Does your night vision let you see into the darker water below?” Sabae asked.
Hugh blinked, then turned to look.
He stood there for a moment, then turned away, a disturbed look on his face.
“Yes,” he said. “Yes it does, and I regret looking.”
“Is there something big down there watching us?” Talia asked, looking oddly excited by the prospect. Ever since she and Hugh had started dating, she’d stopped wearing her head wrapping, as well as that ridiculous hat.
“Big, yes,” Hugh said. “Watching us, I have no idea. I couldn’t see any eyes. It had a huge mouth and what looked like lots of rotting flesh hanging off it, though. Oversize fins and lots of randomly placed tentacles, as well.”
“Rotgrubber,” Artur muttered, from where he was sitting nearby, drawing spellform diagrams in a notebook. “They’re scavengers. Slow movin’, not particularly dangerous, but one a’ the ugliest things in the oceans. They’ll eat anythin’, then store any toxins in their flesh, so not many creatures want ta’ eat them. The rotting flesh is just that— rasps an’ other cleaner fish that eat dead skin and parasites off bigger fish won’t come near a rotgrubber. And the tentacles are actually worms that burrow inta’ their flesh. Not sure whether they’re parasites or do somethin’ fer the fish, but yeh never see a rotgrubber without them.”
Sabae shuddered, and resolved not to ask Hugh to look anymore.
Eventually, they drew far enough away from the third site and the Havathi ships that they could rise to a higher cruising depth, and Hugh left Sabae to channel the windlode on her own. There were so many storms crossing the sea at the moment that the aether levels in the region were perpetually high.
Alustin was the last to leave the prow after he’d finished stowing his instruments, leaving only Sabae and Artur.
“Yeh don’t trust him anymore,” Artur said quietly. “Yeh’ve been starin’ at him like yeh’re tryin’ ta figure out how big a threat he is ever since midsummer.”
Sabae gave Artur a surprised look. She hadn’t realized that she’d been that obvious about it.
“I still trust him in some things,” Sabae said. “I trust him as a teacher, and I trust him not to let harm come to us via negligence. I don’t trust him or Kanderon not to actively risk us in their schemes anymore, though.”
Artur raised an eyebrow and opened up a small pouch on his belt. What looked like iron filings started flying out, and scattered themselves across the deck around them. Within a few moments, they’d resolved themselves into the shape of a ward around the two of them.
“Ah’m not the only one who noticed, then,” Artur said. “We should be safe ta’ talk now.”
Sabae only had to consider for a moment before deciding to trust Artur. There was no way she could work through this on her own, and of all the adults around her, Artur was the only one who she was sure had her and her friends’ best interests at heart.
“Midsummer was a coup,” Sabae said. “Kanderon baited out Bakori, and left her political foes to take the brunt of the damage, then persuaded my grandmother to take care of Bakori for her. And I think that these storms have something to do with whatever price Kanderon paid my grandmother.”
“Not just yer grandmother,” Artur said. “Indris, too. Ah’ve got ah lot a’ friends across the Endless Erg, and ah’ve been hearin’ rumors a’ high-level negotiations goin’ on fer much a’ the last year. Not ta’ mention, ah heard from Alustin that great windstorms have been rollin’ down from the Skyreach Range north a’ these storms.”
“Neither of them have ever been able to affect the weather past the mountains before,” Sabae said. “They’re too tall.”
Artur shook his head. “Kanderon and the Skyhold founders built great weather wards inta’ the Skyreach Range. They wanted ta’ restrict future weather mages from gettin’ as powerful as they did durin’ the Ithonian Empire. There’s a reason yeh get weather-related great powers more commonly than just about any other type, after all. Ah’m guessin’ Kanderon bribed yer grandmother and Indris by shuttin’ the wards down.”
Sabae’s mind raced at that news. A large part of any weather mage’s power came down to ho
w much of the great wind currents they could control, and they grew rapidly more powerful as their territory increased. It wasn’t the only secret to Kaen Das power, of course— there was the windlode, a long list of other secret spells, the power of the Storm Seat itself, and quite a few great enchantments and the like— but the sheer amount of sky her grandmother controlled or influenced was prodigious.
For Kanderon to offer even more power to her two mightiest rivals in the region was astonishing, and spoke to the sheer urgency of this whole crisis around the return of Imperial Ithos. Kanderon never gave up long term advantage in normal situations.
“Those in the know have started callin’ those three the Coven,” Artur continued. “Ah’ve never seen great powers at this level cooperate so closely before, outside a’ alliances against Havath. Ah think it might be all about this Exile Splinter.”
Sabae shook her head. “That’s part of it, but there’s something more going on. When I confronted Alustin about my suspicions, I saw something in his eyes. Something about Ithos’ return terrified him.”
Artur gave her a surprised look. “Are yeh sure? Ah’ve known Alustin since he was younger than yeh are, and ah’ve never seen him terrified before. Even when we got the news a’ Helicote’s fall, an’ that the Havathis had a bounty out on any survivin’ Helicotans, he responded with anger, not fear.”
Sabae just nodded.
Artur sighed. “That’s alarmin’, but we don’t know enough ta’ confront him about any a’ this yet. Have yeh told the others yer suspicions?”
Sabae shook her head. “I doubt any of them would even want to know yet, and all telling them would do is hurt their relationship with Alustin, and now’s a bad time for that.”
Artur frowned. “Ah genuinely think that Alustin will do everythin’ he can ta’ keep yeh from harm, but yeh need ta’ remember— his first priority is and will always be revenge on Havath. Even if he has ta’ choose between his loyalty ta’ Kanderon and revenge, he’ll choose his revenge every time. An’ keep in mind, he’s very loyal ta’ Kanderon. Ah know a’ multiple times he’s acted independently or even against her orders ta’ strike at the Havathi.”
“Why does she put up with that?” Sabae asked.
“Until the gorgon incident a few years back,” Artur said, “Alustin kept a very low profile fer an’ archmage. An’ make no mistake, he’s a canny, powerful one. Ah’m not sure many other archmages could take him in a fight, especially not if he has any time ta’ prepare. Kanderon’s not goin’ ta’ dispose an asset that powerful readily. Not ta’ mention, she’s got a clear soft spot fer him. Fer all that Kanderon can be a ruthless, schemin’ terror, she’s got a habit of gettin’ emotionally attached ta’ her minions, an’ Alustin’s been her special favorite fer a long time now. Though, ah wouldn’t be surprised if Hugh’s challengin’ him fer that spot.”
“You could beat Alustin if it came down to it, right?” Sabae asked. “You’re already powerful enough to challenge many of the lesser great powers in the region.”
Artur shrugged. “Ah don’t think ah’ll need ta. Ah could easily take Alustin when it comes ta’ raw power, but ah’ve got no idea the extent of his tricks. He comes at everythin’ sideways. He doesn’t plan like the rest a’ us do— he doesn’t have any attachments ta’ his specific plans, just ta’ his goal. He spends all his time creating more options ta’ improvise with and recombine, not buildin’ up some master plan. Not ta mention, fer all his schemin’ and plottin’, Alustin is still mah friend, and ah’ve got no desire ta’ fight him. Ah’ve got no love fer Havath, either.”
“But you also don’t trust him enough to let him take us on this trip alone,” Sabae said. “You’re worried enough that you’re taking a ship again, and you obviously have some sort of bad history with ships.”
“Ah’ve got plenty else ta’ worry about yeh kids over,” Artur said. “Like sea monsters and the Havathi.”
Sabae couldn’t help but notice that he hadn’t denied her claim.
Artur opened the pouch on his belt, and the iron filings flew back into it, breaking the ward.
“Yeh’ve got few hours left before we surface, right?” Artur asked.
“Then Hugh’s got a shift after me,” Sabae said. “Then we’ll have a gap between storms that we’ll be surfacing for, try and make some better time to Zophor.”
“So let’s get some trainin’ in, then,” Artur said. “Get spinnin’ up that armor of yers. Wind on one arm, water on the other.”
Sabae gestured at the figurehead. “But what about…?”
“It’s good trainin’, learnin’ ta channel multiple spells at once. And ah reckon yeh usin’ formless magic alongside spellforms will give yeh an especially good challenge,” Artur said.
Sabae sighed, and pulled seawater to one arm, wind to the other.
“And ah’m goin’ ta be lecturin yeh on various schools a’ thought about mage armor,” Artur said. “If yeh’ll forgive me fer a little immodesty, no one knows the topic better. Yeh need ta’ start thinkin’ about more than just how yeh’re makin’ yer armor— yeh need ta’ start considerin’ the end goal, and even more importantly, what yer philosophy and theoretical principles are regardin’ yer armor.”
Sabae sighed. She might trust Artur more than Alustin, but Alustin was, shockingly, the more easy-going teacher.
It could be worse though. It could have been Kanderon.
Sabae dreamt of magma again.
She was trapped on the Skyhold council chamber seal, Abyla Ceutas’ lake of magma writhing around it. Only instead of being a small lake of it on the peak of Skyhold, it was a sea that stretched from horizon to horizon, and it was slowly rising.
Shapes were swimming about beneath the magma, and Sabae, in that way peculiar to dreams, knew they were sea serpents, and she knew they were coming for her.
She knew she was dreaming, knew that she wouldn’t be harmed, but she still cowered and covered her head when the first serpent launched itself out of the magma at her.
It never struck, though.
She slowly looked up, and to her shock, the sea serpent was dissolving into little bird-winged mice.
Another sea serpent reared up from the water in the distance, with purple-green flames tearing through it, dissolving it into luminescent golden smoke that sang quietly.
Patches of dreamfire began racing across the magma, leaving behind a madcap, bizarre dreamscape in their stead. Crystal trees, rabbits the size of houses, and cloud fortresses drifted through her mind as the dreamfire burnt away the last of the magma.
Her awareness that she was in a dream began to fade, and the last thing she recalled was Talia’s voice, echoing as if from a great distance away.
“You’re safe, Sabae. I’m here.”
Sabae awoke both well rested and confused the next morning. It took her a second to remember why, and then she recalled the abortive nightmare.
What had that been about? Talia had saved her life plenty in the past, including from Abyla’s magma in real life, but she’d never had her show up in a dream like that. She…
A sudden suspicion popped into her head, and she stared up at the planks above her head.
Oh no.
Had she been secretly forming a crush on Talia?
That was not what she needed right now. She did not need that kind of drama, she needed to forget that had ever happened, and…
“You awake?” Talia said from the lower bunk.
“Y-yes?” Sabae said, trying to sound normal and not panicked.
“I hope it’s alright that I intruded on your nightmare last night,” Talia said.
Sabae blinked at that. “What?”
Talia’s head poked up over the side of Sabae’s bunk. One of the ship’s cats was sitting on her shoulders, wrapped around the back of her neck.
“You had already fallen asleep when I came in last night,” Talia said. “And you were thrashing around having nightmares, so I used my dreamfire to get rid of that one for you.”
“What?” Sabae said, still confused.
“That’s the main use of dreamfire, remember?” Talia said. “All dream magic has a use in dreams, and it’s possible but difficult to manifest those abilities in waking life as well. Dreamfire is intended to clear away unwanted dreams. It’s incredibly easy to do.”
“I… oh,” Sabae said. “I totally forgot about that. Uh… thank you.”
“What was your nightmare about, anyhow?” Talia asked.
“Abyla and her magma,” Sabae said. “I’ve been having nightmares about being trapped back on that seal with the magma battering against its barriers ever since midsummer.”
Talia’s curious look turned into a glare. “I really wish I hadn’t promised to stop hitting you all right now. You’ve been having nightmares for this long and you haven’t said anything? I could have been helping you this whole time!”
The cat chirped, as if in agreement.
Sabae groaned and pulled a pillow over her head, and stopped trying to repress a blush of embarrassment. She couldn’t believe that she’d thought that she might be developing a crush on Talia over something so dumb as forgetting the other girl could use dreamfire on dreams.
“You’re a heavy sleeper, and I didn’t want to bother you,” Sabae said.
Talia did jab her in the side with a finger at that.
“I can cast a lot of these spells on you before we even go to sleep,” Talia said. “They’re not going to stop the nightmares entirely, but they’ll make them less frequent and less powerful. Dreamfire should also help you work through the actual fears causing the nightmare a little faster. Seriously, stop trying to carry everything on your shoulders.”
Sabae pulled the pillow off her face and gave Talia a look that she hoped was exasperated, but which was probably still embarrassed.
“Why did you have to pick now to get your confidence back?” Sabae said. “I was just getting used to sad, lovesick Talia.”