They both nodded again. Alloria looked as if someone had stolen her puppy, but she said nothing.
“What else?” Vars encouraged.
“I agree that you need to gather your armies, but we also need to plan an evacuation,” Wilfred continued. “A war zone is no place for women and children.”
Vars’s lips were as thin as his narrow eyes, but he nodded curtly. Alloria also nodded in agreement, and, for the first time in a week, Wilfred had the tiniest hope that all could be well.
“Then that’s it,” Vars said, pushing himself up from the table. “We have work to do.”
“There is one more thing,” Wilfred said. “We need help from the magic wielders to defend the city.”
“Absolutely not!” Vars slammed a fist on the table. “The first wielder to step foot back in Unsel will be shot dead.”
“No, they will not,” Alloria countered. “Magic will remain illegal, but I will not order any of their deaths, and neither will you. This was made very clear to both of us.”
“It was not made clear to me,” Vars disagreed.
“Maybe you aren’t hearing too well these days,” Alloria said cattily.
Vars’s eyes widened as he shouted his pithy retort. The queen regent immediately retaliated with an insult. Wilfred sank into his chair once again, resting his hands on his rotund belly, and groaned. That thread, that tiny thread that held it all together unraveled, and he wondered if it would be possible to rein them in one more time. More than ever, he longed for the basement, and found himself hoping that Angst would return and save him, too.
29
“Is this you?” Hector asked, swallowing hard and paling fast.
They were being tossed about like dice in a cup, bracing themselves as best they could in the smallish cabin as the waves had their way with the ship. Angst couldn’t lock everyone’s bones to the wooden floor, so they’d created a chain with Tarness as the anchor. Unfortunately, he was hard to hold onto, his strong, dark arms slick with sweat.
“I was told to take a break when we reached the edge of the storm.” Angst held a hand up defensively. “She didn’t want me messing up her ship even more,” he said, mocking Jarblech’s voice.
“That woman is insane,” Hector snapped. “Ships just aren’t supposed to move like this!”
“Are we even upright?” Tarness asked.
“For now,” Dallow answered.
“I feel wonderful,” Tori said with a smile.
“We told her to hurry,” Angst stated, feeling exceptionally calm in spite of the madness surrounding them. “That we need to get there at all costs.”
“I hate that phrase, especially when you use it near Dulgirgraut,” Hector said, his pale face green as he swallowed hard. “Isn’t that the phrase that cursed Gressmore?”
“When Dulgirgraut starts working right,” Angst sniped, “then I’ll be careful how I use it.”
“You two need to quit,” Dallow snapped. “This isn’t the time.”
Angst smirked at Hector. The man’s piercing gray eyes were stoic, but the corner of his thin lips lifted slightly. Victoria held onto Angst’s arm with both of hers, now overly calm thanks to Dallow’s tonic, which had settled her sickness. The door to their quarters crashed open, and the wild-haired captain shoved her head through. The bandana was long gone and half her mass of oily gray curls was matted down from the storm.
“What have you done now?” Jarblech roared, pointing a finger at Angst. Even with wind-burned cheeks and sun-ripened skin, she seemed pale.
“Why does everyone think this is me?” Angst asked nobody. “This is the storm, right?”
“Like none I’ve sailed,” Jarblech proclaimed.
“I tried to warn you,” Angst said, nodding toward the door. “Show us.”
They awkwardly tripped over each other as they followed Jarblech down the wet hall and up slick stairs to the deck. It was dark as pitch, but frequent flashes of lightning revealed glimpses of the nightmare they faced. They breached the deck only to stop in awe. Like fingers from the sky, a dozen darkened waterspouts reached down from heavy clouds that appeared low enough to touch. The waterspouts gouged into a raging ocean where no man should’ve set sail. An onslaught of lightning thrashed the water, and whirlpools seemed to eat the spouts like a drunkard drawing straight from the keg. The storm was madness, like an orchestra warming up with every instrument playing a different tune. It would’ve torn a wooden boat to pieces.
“I’m going back to the cabin,” Dallow announced.
“You okay?” Angst asked.
“No,” Dallow said sadly. “I can’t see a thing. I’m completely useless.”
“You aren’t useless,” Tarness said.
“Stay on deck, we’re going to need you,” Angst commanded. “Tarness, hold onto him.”
“What do we do? Can I plow right through the center?” Jarblech asked, an adventurous madness in her eyes. “Or is this...something else?”
“This isn’t just a storm,” Hector said. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“I think you’re right,” Jarblech grumbled and then yelled, “Tamara! Hard to starboard, turn us around.”
There was a loud wrenching sound as the boat shuddered in an attempt to turn.
“We’re still moving toward it,” Tarness yelled.
“We’re caught in the tow,” Jarblech shouted.
“It’s pulling us in!” Tori cried fretfully.
“There’s nothing I can do about it,” Jarblech said. “But they’re not going to get me without a fight.”
“There are alternatives to fighting,” Dallow said, placing a hand on Jarblech’s shoulder.
“Get us out of here,” Hector said to Angst. “Can you back us up?”
Angst used the water to propel the ship, as Moyra had taught him. He didn’t know where they were, so urged them back. The sails were down, and he felt no drag from the wind, but it was as if the very water was deciding their course.
“Why aren’t we moving?” Tarness asked. “Is it the storm?”
“This is something else,” Angst said, shaking his head.
The ship groaned as if the metal hull was being torn asunder. Once again, Falcon listed.
“Is that you?” Jarblech held a threatening fist up by her chin.
“No, Captain,” Angst said, looking around in confusion. He reached out, felt the hull being pressed inward, and roughed it back into shape.
“Something struck the right side,” Tamara cried out.
“No, it’s crushing us from all sides.” Angst grunted. “I’m fighting it.”
Pirates shouted in fear as lightning flashed to show two bodies lifted into the air by large tentacles.
“What...what is that?” Victoria stuttered.
“Never in Ehrde...” Jarblech’s voice trailed off.
From nowhere, Hector wielded two wicked blades—long steel sticks with wide sharp ends. “Take Dallow,” he said to Jarblech. He faced Tarness. “Hands!” Hector yelled to Tarness as he jumped towards the man.
Tarness held his hands together, creating a small platform that Hector landed on. Tarness lifted while Hector leaped into the air. They watched in a flash of lightning as the man sprang high at a tentacle, cleaving into it and freeing the captive pirate.
“So hawt,” Jarblech said, patting Dallow’s hand.
Dallow shook his head.
Tarness ran forward with sword and shield, roaring at the creature, the storm, and the madness. A tentacle struck his back with a loud slap. He spun about and sliced the end off with a grunt. There were screams followed by a noisy splash from aft. They turned to see a lone pirate peering over the edge.
She turned to face them and pointed, her voice shaky. “It took Hilde and Becka! Just gone, into the water!”
“What took them?” Angst yelled. “Was it more tentacles?”
“No,” she said, staring up at the clouds. “It swooped in so fast. Those things, there!” She pointed to the sky.
<
br /> “Now what are we dealing with?” Jarblech asked.
“I can see blurred figures circling in the clouds. It doesn’t seem to be a formation but...” Angst targeted shadowy monsters through the flashing haze with a finger. Jarblech’s head weaved and bobbed as she watched it paint a line to the predators. “There. Gargoyles!”
A frightening thud was soon followed by several more as three giant green gargoyle creatures landed on deck.
“Felk,” Angst said.
“Get off my ship!” Jarblech roared, stomping forward with her arms held out, appearing ready to tear the creatures apart with her bare hands.
Angst wondered for a moment if she could actually do it, but Dallow held her back.
“Get everyone below,” Dallow yelled. Jarblech flashed him a glare that would’ve killed a normal man. “You too. They can only be killed by magic.”
“How can I get them below?” Jarblech bellowed. “They can’t hear me!”
“I’ve got this,” Tori said, wielding her two thin swords and running into the fray.
“Tori, no!” Angst shouted. He watched helplessly as she jumped, leaping off a tentacle and diving over a gargoyle, who barely missed scooping her up. She was gone, but within moments, pirates were running toward the hold to trip down the stairs.
“Wow,” Jarblech said. “She’s amazing!”
“I know,” Angst said in a worried tone. “Dallow, when they get down, can you shield them?”
“Yes!” he said proudly. “That, I can do.”
“You too,” Angst said to Jarblech, pointing below deck.
“What about you?” she asked.
“I’m getting my sword,” he said.
Dulgirgraut hovered over the hull, glowing like a dark red beacon in the storm. Angst stumbled through flaying wind and rain to grasp a mast. The foci felt so close. He pushed forward as the boat leaned, throwing him headfirst into the next mast. He saw shadowy stars until Tarness’s strong grip pulled him up. His friend wordlessly held out a bracing arm that Angst hazily gripped onto for as long as he could. When he let go, he tripped forward uncontrollably into Hector’s arms. His head throbbed, and he felt like vomiting. A flash of lightning showed the hungry delight of battle in Hector’s eyes as his friend rolled back, pulling Angst with him before throwing him forward. Angst continued rolling to his knees and crawled the rest of the way to reach the foci. Leaning against the base, he inched upright to standing and gripped the hilt.
“A little help,” he pleaded weakly with the sword.
Tarness backed up to him, and a body flew through the air toward them. Angst thought it was Hector, but Victoria shocked him by landing lithely nearby with a water-logged splat.
To everyone’s surprise, Tamara slid to their feet and clasped onto Angst’s leg. “Everyone should be below, including the two pulled over—they were thrown back on deck.”
“What are you doing here?” Victoria said, her voice panicked. “You should be below.”
“Safer with you than down in that coffin.” She pulled herself up to stand then wrapped a dark, muscular arm around Tori’s waist. “What now?”
“Angst’s got this,” Tarness said confidently.
“Isn’t that like saying what could go wrong now?” Tori questioned.
“Yup.” Angst grimaced. His palms were sweaty. How would Dulgirgraut perform? How would he wield magic?
“You’ll do fine,” Tori said encouragingly. “I promise.”
There was a flash of red in his mind and the unfamiliar song of this new foci. He felt calm as strength and power filled his body.
“Okay,” Angst said with a deep breath.
He swung at a landing gargoyle, slicing it in half. He lifted Dulgirgraut high and struck at the top half with the flat of the blade, making it splatter. Cold green goop slopped onto their faces as the bottom half fell into a puddle.
“One down, a hundred to go,” Tarness said.
“Duck!” Victoria yelled.
Five of the creatures pounced to dogpile them. Angst hefted Dulgirgraut to shield them from the blow, but nothing happened. They peeked over the edge of the large blade to see what had saved them. Cavastil birds tore through their gargoyle attackers, showering the deck of the ship with green ooze. Lightning flashed to show tentacles flapping around the ship, aimlessly grabbing gargoyles and cavastil birds, ripping them to pieces or dragging them underwater.
“What do we do?” Tarness asked.
“Kill everything,” Angst said through gritted teeth, his head finally clear.
He blurred forward, slicing through birds, tentacles, and gargoyles. He worked a tight circle around his friends, doing his best to protect them. Lifting a hand, he scooped up two gargoyles in an air shield and shot them off beyond the clouds. Tarness smashed a gargoyle overboard with his shield while Tori fenced with one of the bird’s metal beaks. Hector rolled to a bird and shoved it into a gargoyle, both crashing into a hairy tentacle that dragged them into the ocean.
“Angst, there are too many,” Victoria shouted over the battle.
“We can do this!” Angst believed it was the right moment. He could feel the sword fill his body with strength, he could hear the whisper of the song.
“No, we can’t,” she said. “Something’s coming. Someone.”
The ship listed, and Victoria screamed. The boat was being tossed around once again, and in the distance, Water. She stood a mile tall. A stormy ocean that walked and moved like a woman. Gargoyles poured out of her gigantic watery arms, darkening the sky with their great numbers. The shadowy figure of water peered at the ship, and Angst felt her looking straight at him. She lurched forward, her mouth opening wide, screaming as she dove into the ocean.
“That’s not good,” Tarness said.
30
Nordruaut
A steady thumping echoed slowly within the great hall Owenqua, as though it had a beating heart. The beat was slow, at first, as the challengers prepared for battle. No words were spoken, but none were needed—their eyes told all. Squinting eyes spoke of their confusion about the need for this fight. Analyzed the fighters, and their king. Wide eyes gawked at the formidable gray man, a creature new to Ehrde, who did not seem so very natural with his turtle-shell skin and bony armored protrusions. Some eyes rolled as they looked back and forth between Guldrich and their champion, Niihlu, having already decided the outcome. Others wanted for battle, a thirst for death that would not succumb to tradition. Guldrich’s eyes were filled with purpose, while Niihlu’s hungered. Jarle tried connecting with each gaze to understand what drove the thoughts behind them. The Nordruaut people were changing, and there was more at stake here than just a fight.
The great hall was as bare as those attending. Tables and chairs had been removed; the only things remaining were animal skins and furs hanging on the walls. A few burning logs in the center fireplace kept the room from freezing. Nothing here could be repurposed as a weapon, no obstruction remained that could be hidden behind, save the fireplace. Those attending and those challenging shivered from anticipation or cold. The hall was just shy of numb, brisk enough to keep everyone alert. This fight would be raw and open .
The single row of Nordruaut men and women standing in a circle around the walls thumped their long spears and stomped their feet faster and faster until King Rasaol held up one hand. The beating slowed. He stepped forward, out of the circle, and all eyes were now focused on him.
“A challenge met is justice served,” he said solemnly, raising a fist high into the air. “A prisoner of war will always be executed, as spoken by our laws. I have been reminded that war has not yet been declared. It has always been our way that disagreements within, or without Nordruaut are instead decided here. This Fulk’han,” he said, disdain dripping from his words, “Guldrich, has infiltrated our lands and killed our people. He claims this was trickery. Our champion,” his voice lifted in pride, “Niihlu, will defend Nordruaut honor. Let the story be told that the winner is just.” He bowed his
head and stepped back into the circle of watchers, like any other Nordruaut attending this precursor to a funeral.
Guldrich crouched, vicious claws protruding from open hands as he took cautious steps around his prey. Niihlu remained still, frost hovering about his body and sheets of sloshy ice falling from his forearms where they crossed in front of his thick chest. His nose raised high, and he looked down at the creature through the frosty clouds leaving his nostrils. Both men were barely covered in loincloths, their only protection from curious eyes that drank in their tense-as-cable muscular bodies.
“Go,” Rasaol said, lowering his arm.
Even before Rasaol’s hand met his waist, Guldrich sprang with the desperate hunger of a panther fighting to feed its young. His claws shredded Niihlu’s pectorals with four deep gashes that would’ve brought any mere mortal within inches of death. The beating of Owenqua’s heart sped up as the grotesque cuts splayed skin and muscle. Guldrich’s nails snapped free before he disengaged. Onlookers gasped when the gaps in Niihlu’s chest quickly filled with icy red scars. He stared on with stoic confidence.
Guldrich rolled to his knees and spun, claws sprouting anew for another attack. He grinned viciously, his eyes keen on battle. “You shatter my claws as you shatter the women you sex,” he accused. “I’m nothing more than a soldier, but you are a murderer of the helpless.”
Niihlu frowned and took a step back, his young eyes filled with surprise. He crossed his forearms to protect his face as though forgetting his great power as the Fulk’han leaped forward. Guldrich sank his claws deep into the Nordruaut’s chest before pushing off with his legs, flipping back to crouch for the next attack. Eight holes in Niihlu’s chest immediately bulged with ice, and the audience looked at each other with concern.
“You chose this murderer of women, this weak, pathetic man to be your hero because he was strongest or because he wanted it more than anyone else?” Guldrich taunted. “Nordruaut aren’t supposed to want or desire, but you put the greediest man on display!”
Angst Box Set 1 Page 99