“Go get your horse. Run!”
Randel nodded and ran for his horse. He was back quickly, struggling to control the mare, which was prancing nervously, her ears laid back, her eyes rolling in her head.
“Listen to me, Randel,” Treylen said. “Everything depends on you now.”
Randel frowned, not understanding what Treylen was saying.
“You’re going to mount up and run as fast and as far as you can.”
“What are you saying? I just need to take her into the city, don’t I?”
Treylen shook his head. “You saw how powerful they are. The walls won’t hold them out. Qarath will fall, and then they’ll have the last piece of the key.” He gestured at the key fragment hanging around Aislin’s neck.
“Maybe I should take the fragment and run?” Randel suggested, his expression showing how little he liked the idea. “I could go faster if I wasn’t carrying her.”
“No. Aislin is still the only one with a chance of defending it.”
“But what if she’s seriously injured? What if she doesn’t wake up?” Randel’s voice was rising, and he was becoming more agitated. “I’m not a healer. I can’t help her.” He looked at the approaching ships, and his dismay increased. “I’m not a fighter either. I can’t defend her if they catch us.”
“Even if you were the greatest warrior in the world, there is nothing you could do with a sword that would make any difference. Look at me, Randel.” Treylen had to tug on Randel’s arm to get the young man to look at him. “Maybe you’re not the right man for this task. I don’t know. But you’re the only one here. You’re all we have.”
Randel took a deep breath and made a visible effort to get hold of himself. “Okay. I’ll do it.” He mounted, patting the mare on the neck to try and calm her. “Can you hand her up to me?”
Treylen picked Aislin up. He was surprised at how little she weighed. She didn’t move or make any sound when he did so, and once again he worried that she was injured internally. What if she didn’t wake up? What if he was dooming her by sending her away from the only healers with a chance of helping her? But what choice did he really have? Qarath would surely fall to the invaders, and Aislin had already been defeated by them. The only chance was to keep her out of the Devourers’ hands until she could join up with the other two children Ya’Shi had spoken of.
It was a very slim chance.
Randel settled Aislin on the saddle in front of him. The mare pranced, tossing her head, eager to be away.
“Take the road north toward Karthije,” Treylen told the young man. “Among the Sertithians there is a boy by the name of Karliss with powers like she has, only over the wind instead of the sea. There is a third child as well, one with power over the stone, but I don’t know where he is. If you can get her to Karliss, the two of them may have a chance against the Devourers.”
“Karthije? I don’t know where that is. I’ve never left Qarath in my life.”
“Just follow the road. The way is clear.”
Still Randel hesitated. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me. Just go.”
Randel nodded and kicked the horse, which willingly broke into a gallop.
Treylen watched them go, hoping he’d made the right choice. This wasn’t something he and Rome and Netra had planned for.
He looked back out to sea. The black ship was almost within bowshot. It was time for him to get out of here as well. He began walking toward the city, going as fast as he could. The walls might not provide much safety, but they would provide far more than staying out here by himself.
Chapter 33
“There’s something strange about this fog,” Cowley said. It was early morning, and Wolfpack squad and the other slaves were out on deck, getting air.
“I agree,” Fen said. “It’s different, but I can’t say how.”
“It feels wrong,” Noah said. “Kind of oily on my skin, if that makes any sense.”
“I bet the Ichthalids are causing it,” Lukas said, leaning out over the railing to peer down at the water. The fog was so thick that the sea was barely visible. The other ships were completely concealed. The air was wet and heavy. Lukas looked at Fen. “This means we’re getting close to land.”
“They’re hiding our approach,” Cowley said. “Qarath will never see us coming.”
A pair of soldiers approached then. “Time to head back below,” one of them said, the corporal who had released them the first time. Though he didn’t address Fen by name, it was clear he knew who he was. All the soldiers on the ship knew by then, but they kept up the pretense. No one knew when Ilsith would show up unannounced. He’d done it several times already, meeting with their new king to relay orders from the other Ichthalids. There was also the Ankharan sailors to worry about. They stayed to themselves, watching the Samkaran soldiers with suspicious eyes. Any one of them would turn Fen over to the Ichthalids in an instant if they knew the truth about him.
Fen and the rest headed back down into their cells. They were still locked up, but conditions were considerably better now, the cells cleaned regularly, the food they were served the same as the soldiers got.
Back in the cell they settled down to wait. Through the open hatch Fen could see that the fog was thicker than ever. Sounds were muted. People spoke in low voices, as if afraid to awaken something.
“I wish I had a sword,” Noah said. “I hate sitting here defenseless.”
“You said that a hundred times already,” Cowley replied. “We got the point. You can stop now.”
The light gradually grew stronger, and Fen realized that the fog was thinning. He was about to say something about it to the others when he felt a sudden, unusual sensation, as if some strange energy danced in his veins. He jumped to his feet and looked up at the open hatch. The others jumped up too.
“What is it?” Cowley asked.
Fen started to reply when he caught a brief glimpse of a towering wall of water that blotted out the sky. He yelled a warning to the others and grabbed onto the bars of the cell.
The ship was flung violently downwards. His squad mates and the other prisoners were tossed around their cell. Cries and screams erupted from the slaves. Water poured down through the open hatch. From up on deck came loud cracking sounds as something gave way.
Fen was still looking up at the open hatch, and so it was that he saw what happened next. A faint purple light flared across the hatch. The sea water stopped pouring in. The water was still there—there was no sign of fog or sky, only water—but it was being held out.
The ship slowed in its downward plunge, then reversed and began to rise. They broke free of the sea’s grip and once again floated on its surface, water replaced by sky. The fog was mostly gone.
Moans and whimpers of pain as the prisoners untangled themselves. At least one of the prisoners appeared to have broken a bone, but Fen’s squad reported themselves okay except for some bruises. The hold was ankle-deep in water.
“What was that?” Lukas asked. “Is there a storm?”
“That was no storm. Someone just attacked us. I felt power being drawn, a kind of power I’ve never felt before.” All at once Fen felt it again. “Hold on! Here it comes again.”
This time most of the squad managed to hold onto the metal grate, and they weren’t thrown about as badly when the ship suddenly lurched upwards violently. It rolled onto its side and fell back to the surface of the sea, striking with a loud cracking sound. The hull groaned, and water sprayed between the boards. At first Fen thought the ship wouldn’t right itself. Through the hatch he could see the wave-tossed sea, a huge cliff dim in the background.
Gradually, the ship rolled upright once again.
“That’s enough!” Noah yelled, untangling himself from the pile of prisoners lying against the hull. He waded over to the rest of the squad. “Get us out of here, Fen. I don’t want to drown down here. I want to get up on deck.”
“Count yourself lucky,” Strout said. “Anyone
on deck is probably dead by now, swept overboard.”
“I don’t feel lucky,” Noah grumbled, rubbing his shoulder. “I want out of here. Now!”
“Okay,” Fen said. With them being under attack he didn’t think the Ichthalids would notice the small amount of power he’d need to break the lock. But before he could act, he felt another attack coming. “Hang on!” he yelled.
At first it seemed like nothing was happening. Then Fen realized they were dropping. Through the hatch he could see a wall of water blotting out the sky. The water rose ever higher as they continued to drop.
“This is going to be bad,” Gage said.
The ship’s descent stopped. For a moment all was still. There was the shriek of a gull in the distance.
Then it was like all the water in the world hit them at once. The ship screamed like a living thing, its screams echoed by the prisoners. Gaps big enough to stick a hand into appeared between the boards of the hull and water flooded in. There were cracking sounds as the masts were torn away.
Fen was sure that this time they were done for, but slowly the ship began to rise once again. The water’s grip fell away, and sunlight returned. The water in the hold was up to their waists. Fen sensed the acrid tang of chaos power and knew that they’d survived only because of the Ichthalids’ power.
“Fen!” Noah yelled. “It’s getting deeper!”
Reaching through the bars, Fen grasped the heavy lock and released Stone power into it. The lock cracked, and he shoved the door open. His squad mates waded through and headed for the stairs.
Fen started to follow them, then heard the panicked cries of the prisoners held in the cell at the other end of the hold. He waded over and broke that lock as well. Moments later he climbed out onto the deck. His squad mates were staring at the destruction around them. All the masts were snapped off, only jagged stumps remaining. Snarls of rigging and shattered wood covered the deck, the bodies of dead sailors and soldiers caught in the tangle.
Fen looked around. To the northwest was a city, a castle sitting on top of a high cliff overlooking the sea. The black ship looked largely intact. One of the three new ships was listing badly. The other new ship had a hole in the side.
Fen felt a new attack building. This one was different than the others. The power being summoned felt rawer somehow.
“There’s another one coming!” Everyone scattered, grabbing onto whatever they could. Fen wrapped his arms around a piece of railing that was still intact.
From where he was he had a clear view forward. On the beach was the tiny figure of what looked like a young girl. He knew instantly that the power being wielded came from her, and he wondered if she was the one responsible for Lowellin’s scars.
Ice spread across the sea, covering the distance between the girl and the black ship quickly, and encasing the hull in ice. Cracking sounds came from the black ship’s hull as the ice tightened its grip.
Lowellin walked up then. He looked completely untouched by everything that had happened. He wasn’t wet. His white hair wasn’t messed up. From the expression on his face, he might have been out for a stroll, rather than picking his way through the wreckage of his ship.
“She’s strong, isn’t she?” he said. “She’s come far.”
“She’s the one who gave you the scars, isn’t she?”
Lowellin touched a scar on his face and nodded.
Purple fire spread outwards from the Ichthalids, and the ice melted away.
“She’s tiring,” Lowellin noted. “How much longer can she keep it up, do you think?”
“Her power comes from the sea, doesn’t it?” Fen asked.
“Hey, you’re paying attention.”
A wave rose and loomed over the black ship. The wave froze, and spears of ice fell down on the ship, melting when they struck the Ichthalids’ shield.
The Ichthalids threw things into the air that burst into black flames and shot at the girl. She threw up a hasty shield in time, but the explosion knocked her back.
More attacks and counterattacks followed. Fen leaned over the railing, gripping it so tightly his fingers ached. Without realizing it, he was summoning Stone power. The sea was shallower here, and it was already answering his call, rising through the water toward him.
Suddenly, Lowellin struck him on the side of the head, hard enough to make his ears ring. Fen whirled on him.
Lowellin said, “Now is not the time.”
“They’re going to kill her. I can’t let that happen.”
“No, they’re not. She’s stronger than you think.”
“You want them to kill her. You hate her for defeating you.”
“Of course, I don’t,” Lowellin said, but Fen saw the flicker of rage in his eyes and knew it wasn’t true. “There’s nothing you can do to help her anyway. You’re barely drawing any Stone power at all. And you’re too far away. All you’d manage is to get yourself killed next, and I’d lose someone who might still turn out to be useful.”
Fen subsided, realizing he was right. He gritted his teeth, wishing he was back on land, where his real strength was.
“Are you going to be a problem?” Lowellin asked him. Fen glared at him. “What am I saying?” Lowellin continued. “Of course, you are. You’re worse than Quyloc, you know that?”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“No, because you don’t know anything. Now settle down and watch. This girl is strong. You could learn something from her.”
Thresh and Gnath were hammering the girl with bolts of chaos power while S’nash was gathering a huge sphere of it overhead.
“The girl holds the last piece of the key,” Lowellin said out of nowhere, sounding surprised.
“She has the piece on her?” Fen asked.
“Around her neck. I caught a glimpse of it. That means I won’t need you to remove it from the vault.”
Alarms went off in Fen’s mind, and he shifted away. Lowellin saw his reaction and said, “Calm down. I have other uses for you still.” He looked back at the girl. “It seems whatever the gromdin attempted succeeded at least that much.”
“Gromdin? What are you talking about?”
“The gromdin is…I suppose he is an Ichthalid, though his time here has changed him even more than it has changed Ilsith. He lives in the Pente Akka, which is sort of a bubble of the Abyss that leaked into this world. It’s complicated. I overheard the Ichthalids saying the gromdin was planning some sort of attempt on the key. I didn’t hear any details except that they assumed his plan had failed, since they were no longer able to contact him. This changes everything, you realize. The girl is going to lose. The last piece is within their grasp.” He gave Fen what might have been a smile, except that it never reached his eyes. “With luck, our alien friends will be gone by dinner. How does that sound?”
Fen didn’t like the sound of that at all. He ached with the desire to join the battle on the side of the girl. Before now, he’d been somewhat able to convince himself that he could stand by and let the Ichthalids take the key and go, but now he knew there was no way he could do that. He would fight them to the death. But at the same time, he didn’t want Lowellin to know that, so he tried to keep it off his face.
“I believe we’re about to see the end of this battle,” Lowellin remarked.
The girl was gathering a huge sphere of green power. As strong as the Ichthalids were, Fen didn’t see how they could survive it. He was pretty sure none of the ships would survive it.
“It’s not going to work,” Lowellin said, as if reading his mind. “They have an answer.” He pointed. A black nothingness was opening in front of the Ichthalids. “That’s the Abyss in there. Take a good look. This is as close as you ever want to get, believe me.”
Moments later the sphere streaked toward the gaping hole and was swallowed. Then the column of purple fire shot out and knocked the girl flying across the beach. She didn’t move.
“And there it is. So far, so good,” Lowellin said. “It is time that
we talked about what comes next, what we will do if the Ichthalids decide not to honor their end of the agreement.”
He continued talking, but Fen was barely listening. He was watching what was unfolding on the shore. He saw the man run and bring back a horse. He saw the other man lift the girl up to him. The horse galloped away.
“That’s foolish,” Lowellin said. “The city wall will not keep out the Ichthalids. Our friends over there will make short work of their defenses. They’ll root her out, wherever Rome and Quyloc try to hide her. By running, she is only delaying the inevitable and ensuring the suffering of a great many more people. The Ichthalids are entirely unconcerned with how many they kill to get what they want. The smart thing would be to wait on the beach for what must be inevitable.”
“This time it’s you who’s wrong,” Fen said. “He’s not taking her to the city.” The horse had turned left, following the road inland.
“Really?” Lowellin said. “Are they really going to drag this out?” He sounded angry. “This changes things somewhat.” He turned to Fen. “Go find a soldier’s uniform and put it on. A helmet too, to cover your face.”
“What?”
“The Ichthalids are going to chase the child. We’re going with them.”
“My squad is coming too.”
“Nonsense. There’s no reason for them. Go. We do not have much time. Ilsith might show up at any time.”
“You’re going to have only one soldier with you?” Fen asked him. “No king travels with only one attendant.”
“I don’t care about that.”
“It will look strange. And you think the Ichthalids—Ilsith especially—won’t ever be curious and take a look at the one soldier who is with you, see that the one you told them you killed is actually alive and traveling beside them?”
Lowellin regarded him for a moment before nodding. “You make a point. Very well. Prepare my personal guard. See if you can find my crown too.” Fen started away. “On second thought, forget about the crown. I hate that thing.”
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