“Battery!” Geist shouted. “Get out there and help Shell!”
Shaken, Battery got to his feet and stumbled out of the shattered wheelhouse. He slid across the slick deck, fighting the downpour, and only stopped once he reached Shell.
Blick fired round after round. Geist could have sworn she saw the U-boat shudder, but she couldn’t be sure. Return fire continued regardless.
As Geist braced herself for another hit, she caught her breath the moment she felt Shell’s sorcery empowered by Battery’s. The shield that once protected only a small portion of the Evening Rose had grown to encompass the entire vessel. From stern to bow, the powerful magic covered the craft like a bulletproof blanket. Captain Madison craned his gaze up and around, a look of confusion on his face.
“What sorcery does your boy practice?” he shouted. “What is this?”
Rain swept in through the broken windows, coating the ship’s controls in water. Geist picked herself up and stepped close to Victory. Even through the storm she could see the man had multiple lacerations and shards of glass embedded in his arms and legs. He remained sitting on the wheelhouse floor, his hand over his injured eye to stem the flow of free-flowing blood.
She held onto his shoulder. “Will you be okay?”
“I won’t die from this,” he stated. “As far as I can tell.”
The ship tilted, and Geist leaned into the turn. Crashing through the waves, the Evening Rose headed in close to the surfaced submarine. She stood and saw the dark gray of the U-boat deck, a series of silent lightning strikes illuminating the hull long enough for her to see the damage.
But where is Vergess?
The U-boat had four holes—two bore the distinct burst markings of exploded 47mm shells. The last two were rusted, rotted holes that reminded Geist of centuries-old metal left to neglect. The frail carbon steel hull around the gaping entrances gradually disintegrated, as though the rot spread at a slow rate to the rest of the U-boat like a disease.
Vergess’s ruina sorcery.
But the thin hull of the submarine gave her pause. Before she could piece together the mystery of the rot, Geist turned to the captain. “Ram it.”
“What?” the captain balked. “Ram the U-boat with the Evening Rose?”
She turned to Victory. “Will it work?”
“I…” He closed his other eye and held his breath. For a moment it seemed as though he wouldn’t be able to focus, but despite everything, he exhaled and calmed himself. “It’ll work.”
Captain Madison, an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, cocked a smile. “Heh. The Evening Rose is a big girl. I knew she could handle it.”
Geist helped Victory over to the corner of the wheelhouse, bracing against the bulkhead for impact. He pressed himself up against the wall, still quite capable, and motioned for her to return to the captain. “Don’t worry about me. Watch over the others.”
The captain rang his bell in a series of hurried strikes. The frantic nature of his message translated to the others on the ship. The crewmen ran for the rigging or to get below deck and the first mate returned to the wheelhouse. Blick and Battery, following the lead of the others, also returned, their attention drawn to their older brother. They went to Victory’s side and gave Geist a questioning glance.
“Hold on!” the captain shouted.
Before Geist could fully comprehend the situation, the Evening Rose crashed into the half-submerged U-boat. She lost her footing and fell to the floor as the whole ship shook. The crunch and screech of metal on metal, it was like the blood-curdling shriek of nails on a chalkboard. It lasted for the length of the steamer traveling over the submarine, shivers rolling across Geist’s spine the entire time.
The final shudder of the ship dismounting the U-boat punctuated the end of the terrible noise.
Another round of salt water waves washed onto the deck and into the wheelhouse. Blick shielded Victory as best he could. The chill of the waters pierced Geist to the bone. Once free of the waves, she stood and craned her head to get a better look at the wreckage. The submarine took in water at a frightening rate. It wouldn’t last long enough to reach the shore.
“We have to get Vergess,” she said. “He was on the U-boat.”
Blick shook his head and wiped the water from his face. “He already disembarked. He was on the deck of the U-boat last I saw him.”
Geist glanced back as the final bits of the submarine sank beneath the raging waters. Seeing anything else through the ill weather was impossible and she returned her attention to the immediate. Captain Madison dialed down to the engine room using the telegraph, but after a few grunts of irritation he pulled Shell over.
“You have the helm,” he said.
The young first mate hopped over to the controls, his fisherman’s cap lost during the naval battle. He ran a hand over his disheveled reddish hair and nodded to his captain. “Sir, are we whole?”
“I’m going down to the engine room now. Handle everything up here till I get back.”
“Yes, sir.”
The captain exited the wheelhouse with a singular focus. Geist would have been concerned about losing his sorcery if it hadn’t been for the storm suddenly dissipating. Within minutes, the rain died and the wind dwindled to a gentle breeze. Rays of sunlight broke through the black clouds in pillars, shining spotlights down onto the swirling waters of the English Channel.
“I’ll be all right,” Victory said.
Geist glanced back. Both his brothers fussed over him, trying to get Victory to remove his hand from his eye. He refused, his clothes half soaked in blood, and stood despite the shallow cuts across his leg.
“At least get under some good lighting,” Battery insisted. “We should remove the glass and patch you up.”
“That’s fine. Let’s just do this quick.”
Leaving the brothers to themselves, Geist jogged out onto the bow deck and ran to the railing. Shell’s magic had done wonders protecting the majority of the Evening Rose from attack, but the impact with the submarine had been a different story. Dents and jagged lines marked the bow just beneath the surface of the water. The sturdy ship had held together as far as Geist could see and she breathed a sigh of relief.
Geist removed her attention from the boat to search for Vergess. She ran from the bow deck back to the stern, passing the steamer stacks, busy crewmen, and flag mast without stopping. The steady waters made it easier to run, and she took advantage by sprinting all the way to the back guardrails. She leaned over as she ran and searched the dappled waters, hoping to spot Vergess among the waves.
Where are you? Come on… Something like this couldn’t have done you in.
To her relief, Geist spotted Vergess on the side of the Evening Rose, his arm twisted through a line of chain that had broken lose during the storm. He yanked himself from the water despite the weight of his soaked clothes and clung close to the hull, above the waterline. Geist jogged to the edge of the boat and gathered a coil of rope to help him climb aboard. She tossed it over and secured the other end to the rigging mast.
Once Vergess had dragged himself aboard, he rung out his clothing, water streaming from bullet holes in his slacks and shirt. Geist gave him the once-over: despite the state of his clothes, there wasn’t a scratch on his body. From his pocket he pulled a handful of enemy tags and dropped them into her hand.
“The submarine was part magi-tech,” he stated.
Geist caught her breath. “How could you tell?”
“There were no Abomination Soldiers aboard.”
Geist sifted through the tags. They were German naval officer ranks—engineer officers, torpedo officers. One sported the blue of a medical officer. None bore the marks of sorcerers.
They’re experimenting out in the English Channel?
The news didn’t surprise her. The battleground of Verdun was no place to test naval magic. But the rate at which the Germans were accelerating their advances frightened her. Even if she brought back the in
formation for magi-tech, would it be in time to counter the enemy forces?
Geist handed the insignias back to Vergess. “We can’t fail this mission.”
Vergess took the cloth pieces and pocketed them without answering.
“And, thank you,” she continued. “You did an excellent job.”
He stared down at her for a long moment, his emotionless gaze something she couldn’t decipher. Then he said, “I have a question. You have apex and specter sorcery in your blood. What other schools of sorcery can you learn?”
Wind rushed by, carrying with it the smell of salt and ammunition.
Geist floundered. Sorcerers could only ever learn the sorcery they inherited, and nothing else, making tracking family lines the utmost importance. Most sorcerers and their families kept their abilities hidden. Some made their living stealing information from others and selling it to the highest bidder. Wars had been fought over legacy and rights… selling children that contained the link to powerful magics was forbidden, but it happened nonetheless.
This was why so many sorcerers in the military went by codenames. Geist knew Victor, Bernard, and Percival were all from the Hamilton family, and so did the other members of the Verdun Ethereal Squadron, but their official records never revealed their true surnames. Even their assignments and packets of information addressed them as Victory, Blick, and Battery.
Vergess’s hard stare persisted.
Just as Geist was about to give up on her wait, Vergess spoke. “You’re afraid of revealing your true identity.”
She nodded.
“As you should be. That’s the right instinct for any good spy.”
“I’m sorry.”
He stepped closer to her and lowered his voice, almost to the point it was lost to the waves crashing against the hull. “Do me one favor.”
Geist glanced around, taking careful note to make sure the crewmen were preoccupied with their work before returning her attention to Vergess. When certain no one would hear, she lifted an eyebrow.
“What is it?”
“Tell me your name,” Vergess said. “Not your family name, I know you want to keep that hidden. And not Charles. Your real name. I realized I didn’t know it when I was under the water.”
Her mouth went dry. He thought of me. In the middle of a fight, he thought of me.
The question hung between them. Vergess cleared his throat. “Does this bother you?”
“No. I just—I’m surprised.”
“Then you’ll tell me your name?”
Geist wanted to tell him, but she stopped herself short when she thought of the consequences. Could he possibly learn her identity from just her given name? No. Her name was common enough.
“Florence,” Geist replied.
“It suits you.” He raked his fingers through his wet hair, combing it back and slicking the water away. “But not as well as Geist.”
Geist smiled.
“Where are the others?” Vergess asked. “We should rejoin them.”
She contained her musings and pointed toward the bow. “Dreamer never came up from the hold. The other three are on the forward deck.”
Vergess answered with nod and made his way to the front of the ship. Geist followed, allowing herself to relax after the stress of the ordeal. The feeling didn’t last long, however, as she came to the bow of the ship and spotted Victory still soaked in crimson. Battery and Blick hovered close, but their twisted expressions of concern didn’t put her at ease.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Battery motioned her over. “Victory needs a medic. We spoke to the doctor on board, but he says he needs tools or… or else he’s going to have to take Victory’s eye.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s glass there.” Battery motioned with unsteady hands to the corner part of the eye, just into the socket. “It’s deep.”
Geist turned to Victory. “Let me see.”
He removed his hand—his good eye closed in pain—and Geist heart seized in her chest. A long shard of thin glass had wedged itself between the soft flesh of the eye and the hard curve of the bone socket, cutting in through the corner of the eyelid. The wound wept in copious amounts, bleeding out as a long line of red tears. The injury wouldn’t have been as much of a concern anywhere else on his body, but the vulnerable eyeball left Geist nauseous.
“Geist, please do something,” Battery said. “I don’t know if Victory will be able to use his sorcery if he loses his sight.”
“I’ll be fine,” Victory interjected.
“You said you see the images.”
“I see them in my mind’s eye. There’s no need to panic.”
“But will that be the case if you lose your vision? You don’t know. We shouldn’t risk it.”
“What do you want me to do?” Geist asked. Send him back to Cross? We need him for the operation. Even his contribution to the U-boat fight had been invaluable.
Battery fidgeted with his restless hands. “Didn’t you say your family made you study corpus sorcery? Like Cross?”
“Body alteration. I don’t know how to heal.”
“Try to remove the glass, at least.”
I haven’t practiced corpus magic in years, Geist thought, anxiety gripping her thoughts like a fist. I could be making this situation a whole lot worse.
Vergess gave her a sidelong glance. “You have apex, specter, and corpus sorcery in your blood?” He stood off to the side, watching the exchange with a critical eye and glower.
At this rate, he’ll figure out everything, Geist thought.
“It’ll be fine,” Victory said, confident despite two-inches of glass protruding from his face. “Everything will work out.”
Hearing Victory’s reassurances put Geist’s fears to rest before they could cripple her into inaction. He could see the future. If he said everything would work out, who would deny it?
Geist motioned for him to sit against the deck guardrail and tilt his head back. Victory complied and remained stable even when Battery and Blick both looked as though they would explode.
Geist placed a hand on his face and dragged her finger along the skin. Corpus sorcery unwound or re-stitched the very fabric of flesh. Her nail acted as the center point for her ability, and she “cut” a short line from the corner of the eyelid to the temple just before the ear. The boat rocked, making the line uneven, but her touch never went deep.
With the shard loose, Geist used her other hand to pull it out. A good inch of glass emerged from his socket coated in blood.
Geist turned to Blick. “Get me some gauze and cotton. I’ll wrap this up.”
“Right,” he replied, taking off for the hold.
She threw the shard overboard. “That was crazy.”
Battery let out a long exhale, his hands still shaking as he wiped them off on his shirt. Even Vergess took in a long breath, as though he had been holding it the entire time.
“Not bad,” Vergess muttered.
Victory laughed, then grimaced for the effort. “Thank you, Geist.”
“Cross would kill me if anything happened to you. Besides, it’s a lot easier to be confident in your actions when you know they’ll succeed.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I could have fucked up your eye just now. I’m glad you knew I wouldn’t.”
Victory smirked. “Well, you shouldn’t assume I’m using my power one hundred percent of the time. I had no idea this would work.”
Geist gritted her teeth, on the verge of shouting. “You told me everything would work out!”
“I didn’t want anyone else panicking over my sake.”
She stood and took a step back, incredulous. “Why wouldn’t you use your magic?”
“How well would you be able to focus if you learned you had a piece of glass the length of your finger in your face? Not very well, I imagine.”
Battery glanced between them, a look of exasperation clear on his face. “How are you two so c
alm about this? Unbelievable.”
The crash of water against the Evening Rose rang out in natural rhythm as Blick approached the group. He handed over the gauze and medical supplies, his attention focused on his older brother.
Placing cotton over the injury, Geist wrapped a diagonal bandage around Victory’s head, giving him a makeshift eyepatch of white linen. She smiled to herself realizing that everyone had come through the battle with the U-boat in one piece—unlike the GH Gas and zeppelin. Hope swelled in her breast despite herself.
I haven’t let anyone die yet. We’re going to do this. We will.
“Land!” the first mate yelled out. “Dover off the port side!”
Once finished, Geist patted Victory on the shoulder. “C’mon. It won’t be long now until we’re in Antwerp.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ANTWERP, BELGIUM
WITH THE OTHER PASSENGERS GONE, the hold of the Evening Rose had all the warmth of a graveyard. Geist and her team were all that remained; no sane person wanted into German-occupied Belgium.
The slosh of waves echoed along the steel walls of the passenger quarters. Geist, lost in her thoughts, stared at the ceiling as she attempted to sleep. It wouldn’t be long before she would be needed again and the constant pressure to preform was already fraying her reserves.
And I haven’t even gotten to Belgium yet. God give me strength to make it through alive.
“Geist.”
She rolled over and spotted Battery staring. He shifted from one cot and moved himself closer. He held a scrap of paper and a long pen, a half-written message written out in his neat handwriting.
“This is the last chance you’ll have to write home,” he said. “Everyone else is taking the time to pen a letter. Captain Madison even said he would ensure their safe delivery.”
Geist exhaled. “Everyone?”
“Even Vergess.”
Geist kicked her one foot over the other and laced her ankles together. Her clothing felt stiff after drying, but she refused to change. Vergess’s point about apex sorcery detecting faint scents left her needing to disguise her natural aroma, just in case any nearby Abomination Soldiers would sniff her out. Salt water and blood worked wonders.
The Ethereal Squadron: A Wartime Fantasy (The Sorcerers of Verdun) Page 18