Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two

by Brian S. Pratt

  “James!” Jiron shouted again.

  He felt a hand upon his shoulder.

  “We got to get off this ship!” the knifer yelled.

  Arcs of magic were striking all around them.

  Father Vickor stroked amongst them with mace aloft and the righteous power of Morcyth blazing like a sun. He drew the arcs to his mace. Each time contact with one was made, there was an explosion of magic and a secondary arc of power traveled from his mace out to sea.

  The priest within the bubble was gaunt and had fallen to his knees. Hair grown white, his robes soaked with sweat, he raised his arms and cried out one last time before the protective bubble completely failed.

  Arcs of power immediately struck the priest; targeting each hand, his head and through the heart. They drained the life out of him in an instant.

  “Come on,” Jiron urged.

  Taking James under the arms, he hauled his friend to his feet.

  Suddenly the ship pitched to the right. James and Jiron were thrown to the deck as the entire ship trembled.

  A mammoth set of flukes, larger than any whale’s, appeared off the port side. They slapped the side of the ship, breaking off a sizeable chunk of the railing and part of the deck, dragging it back with it beneath the surface.

  “By the gods!” exclaimed Potbelly.

  Arcs continued flying from the specks. Father Vickor successfully dealt with most of them, but a few still got through. An explosion of light knocked Shorty back to the rail. Off-balanced, his legs hit the edge and he tumbled over.

  Scar appeared from out of nowhere, dove and grabbed him by the leg just before he fell to the water.

  Below, the water was a maelstrom of thrashing fish of all size, colors and textures. Long thing eel-like creatures with jagged teeth, others more translucent while still others, greater than the size of a man, fought amongst each other with mindless ferocity.

  “Thanks, man,” Shorty croaked as Scar extended his hand to pull him back up on the deck.

  Down below, the fish-choked water parted as a massive, teeth-filled mouth shot for the knifer.

  Scar yanked him on board just at the fish’s mouth snapped shut where Shorty had been but a moment before. As it bell back to the water, it twisted and snared one of the smaller fish that thrashed uncontrollably before going under.

  The front of Shorty’s shirt was gone as was a good layer of skin beneath. His legs wouldn’t sustain him and Scar settled him to the ground.

  “Vickor!” he shouted but the priest failed to hear.

  Aglow in Morcyth’s power, Father Vickor continued fending off the attacks of the specks.

  “If we don’t get off this ship,” Potbelly said, coming to his friend’s side, “we’re dead.”

  The three shimmering fields had met and were now swirling in the sky above like a hurricane. Winds whipped even harder and the lightning had grown in both severity and frequency.

  Off the starboard bow, a massive black back of a great behemoth rose from beneath the surface. It crested and in a great spray of water, its flukes struck the surface killing most of the fish caught beneath.

  “Can you stand?” Jiron asked his friend.

  James put a hand on Jiron’s shoulder and rose. Though his knees knocked, he made it to his feet. “Get everyone as far back as you can,” he said. “We…” he began then stopped when an intense glowing object drew closer from the north. It took him but a moment to realize what it was.

  “Miko!” he shouted with great joy.

  Captain Anyn stood at the wheel angling his ship to come abreast with theirs. Miko had the Star in hand at the bow, its glow permeated the entire ship from bow to stern, even up to the very tip top of the main mast. Every inch of the ship resonated with the power of Morcyth.

  “Come on!” Miko urged as the ship came close.

  Scar, Potbelly and Shorty ran and with a foot on the rail, vaulted over the narrow gap between the two ships.

  “Father Vickor!” Jiron yelled.

  The priest stood between them and the now intensely sparking specks. Fields of destructive force emanated outward from them in periodic magical bursts. From three, tendrils extended over the side and into the water, feeding on the life swimming just below. A fourth grew dimmer with each burst while the fifth was all but spent. The sixth had long since dissolved into nothingness.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Father Vickor nodded and started backing up.

  Jiron helped James to the railing.

  “I’m fine,” James said and shrugged off Jiron’s assistance.

  Shorty and Scar stood on the other rail and held out their hands.

  As James took their hands, the ship pitched again as another of the mammoth, whale-like creatures surfaced alongside. His feet slipped from the railing and if not for the strength of their grips, would have fallen to the water below. Slamming into the side of Captain Anyn’s ship, he panicked for a moment before they hauled him aboard.

  Jiron and Father Vickor both had both been knocked to the deck. The ship listed heavily toward the stern.

  “It’s sinking!” shouted Scar. “Get out of there.”

  Getting to his feet, Jiron was again slammed back to the deck when a bolt of lightning struck the main mast.

  Down on one knee and clothed in the power of his god, Father Vickor held out his mace and a protective shield sprang into being a moment before arcs of power from the specks struck in an explosion of light and energy.

  “Can’t you do anything?”

  James turned to Shorty, pointed to the churning shimmering fields above, and shook his head. “Not with that up there. Whatever I try will be corrupted and could prove fatal.”

  Jiron had returned to his feet and had joined with Father Vickor. Together, they made for the railing.

  “They must move faster,” murmured Scar.

  As if heeding his warning, their two friends turned and raced for the railing.

  Arcs of power slammed into Father Vickor’s shield as if loath to have them leave.

  At the rail, Father Vickor leapt, propelled himself off the railing with a mighty kick, then sailed across the gap. Father Keller and Kip were there to catch him

  Jiron leapt across and landed nimbly next to the Pit Masters.

  Miko turned to Captain Anyn. “Get us out of here!”

  Spinning the wheel, the ship angled away from the other.

  The high priest turned to Azhan. “Now,” he said.

  Summoning magic, the apprentice mage filled the sails.

  “Aren’t you afraid of his spells being corrupted?” Shorty asked.

  Miko shook his head and held for the Star. “So long as the power of Morcyth envelopes him and the area of effect of the spell, he will be shielded.”

  The knifer looked to James for corroboration.

  James nodded. “It’s true. Don’t ask me why or how.”

  As they headed north, the enemy flagship sank beneath the waves. Above where it went under, specks continued sparking and fizzing, sending arcs of power outward in random directions. A few would strike the glow surrounding their ship. Other than an eruption of light and a concussion blast, they did nothing.

  “How long is that going to go on?” Scar asked.

  “Not much longer,” James replied. “It’s reaching critical mass.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “Was Tapu bad?”

  The Pit Master blanched.

  “Don’t worry,” James said, chuckling. “Doubt if it will be that bad. In fact, I think that…” Eyes widening, he trailed off as the back of a massive behemoth rose out of the ocean next to the rail. The ship pitched to side and still the creature rose from the depths. It then twisted and literally shoved the ship sideways.

  Sailors screamed, everyone was thrown to the side; one of Captain Anyn’s men went overboard. The man hit the side of the creature then slipped down between the beast and the side of the hull.

  Timbers along the port side snapped and the smaller mast broke
off at the base. The main mast had a visible crack in it some four feet up from the deck.

  “Kill the wind!” James yelled.

  As the sails went slack, the behemoth sank beneath the surface. The ship listed noticeably to port.

  “Captain!” a sailor hollered as he raced from below; the sound of panicked horses followed him up. “We are breached!”

  Racing from the wheel, Captain Anyn flew down the hatchway.

  The ship continued tilting further to port.

  “We’re sinking?” asked Kip.

  James turned to Miko. “Does the glow extend to the keel?”

  The Star flared slightly. “It does now.”

  Sailors blocked the hatchway.

  “Out of my way,” James hollered as he headed in that direction.

  Ever the helpful pair, Scar and Potbelly beat him to the congestion and threw sailors aside as they made a hole for James. He took the steps down and found the lower three to already be submerged. Captain Anyn stood at the bottom.

  “We have to abandon ship,” Captain Anyn said.

  “We do that and we die,” Scar said.

  “The hole is too big,” he said. “Sinking is inevitable.”

  “No,” James said, “it isn’t.” To Scar and Potbelly, he said, “Come on.”

  “You’re going to die if you don’t get off this ship!”

  Hopping down into the water, Jiron turned to the Captain. “Get back to the wheel, Captain, and keep us heading to safety.”

  “But…”

  “If the hole is patched,” James asked, “will we be okay?”

  “Be heavy in the water with all this flooding,” he replied. “But we might make it.

  “Then get back to the wheel.”

  Captain Anyn eyed James skeptically, but nodded.

  “Let’s get this patched,” James said and headed into the dark cargo hold. Jiron and the Pit Masters went with him.

  He summoned his orb and eyed it carefully for several seconds. Once assured that Miko’s magic was in fact shielding his from the effects of the shimmering fields, he hurried forward.

  Water poured in through a four-foot gap in the port side. Horses were panicking and pulling at their tethers. A few were down and raised their heads above the surface to keep from drowning.

  James sent his senses to the gap and formed a shield to plug the leak.

  “Tell Miko that the horses need attention,” he said to Scar. “I think a few broke their legs when that thing hit us.”

  “Will do.”

  “Jiron, make sure the hatchway is clear,” James said “and I’ll see about getting this water out of here.”

  “Come on, Potbelly,” the knifer said. They returned to the hatchway and once it was clear, James formulated a spell and water shot from the hold, up through the hatchway, and over the side. In a few minutes, the water level had dropped to ankle deep at which point James ended the spell.

  Back on deck, he gazed out to where the specks continued to spark and arc in ever greater frenzy. “Hold on,” he mumbled to himself. They needed to put as much distance between them and the specks as quickly as possible.

  Azhan had a light breeze going into the sails, just enough so the main mast wouldn’t crack the rest of the way. James reinforced it with a shield and told him to increase the force of the wind.

  “Yes, Master.”

  The ship picked up speed.

  He then went to where Captain Anyn stood at the wheel.

  “How long to the nearest land?”

  “Less than an hour I think,” the captain replied. “We’re not far from the mainland.”

  “Good.”

  The sky shimmered from horizon to horizon. At the focal point where the trio of shimmering fields had converged the water was a frothy tempest of crazed fish twisting, leaping and fighting one another. The intensity of the prickling sensation assailing him continued to increase though they were moving away.

  He eyed Jiron. “We’re not moving fast enough.”

  “Doing the best we can, considering.”

  “I know,” he sighed.

  Lightning lit up the sky; some flashed among the clouds, others struck the water. Each was followed with a thunderous crash that rolled over them and resonated deep within their chests.

  James felt a, sudden, sharp increase in the prickling.

  Whump!

  As one, the specks detonated simultaneously. A good portion of the water beneath was vaporized; steam shot to the sky in a massive cloud.

  “Well,” Shorty said, “that wasn’t so bad.”

  Then the concussion wave hit; the ship shuddered.

  Men were thrown to the deck, timbers cracked and a loud snapping sound foreshadowed the main mast tipping to the side. Ropes snapped, men scrambled to pull those unconscious out of the way and all watched as the mast hit the deck. For a second it balanced precariously on the rail, then the jagged, lower end rose as the top dipped into the water. The railing snapped under the weight and the main mast slid into the ocean.

  Jiron got to his feet and looked around. He saw Scar and Potbelly helping Father Vickor to his feet. Father Keller hovered around Eddra who looked to have fared better than most.

  “James?” he asked, when he failed to see his friend.

  The ship started listing again to port.

  “James!”

  “Over here!” Kip hollered.

  He sat against the forecastle with the Dark Mage’s head cradled in his lap.

  James’ hair was matted with blood; his face was very pale.

  “What happened?”

  “He,” began Kip as Miko rushed over, “Reverend Father, he hit the wall pretty hard.”

  Miko was at his friend’s side in an instant.

  “How is he?” Jiron asked.

  Concentrating for a moment, Miko turned to Jiron and replied, “Not good.”

  Jiron grabbed onto the railing to steady himself as the deck tilted to a precarious level.

  “The hold!” he cried. With James unconscious, that means the hole… “Azhan, Hikai!”

  The two apprentices were there in a flash.

  “Come with me,” he said.

  “But our Master?” Hikai asked.

  “Will die if we do not move fast,” Jiron replied. “Now come.”

  Propelling the two apprentices toward the hatchway leading the hold, he said, “The barrier he put up to shore the hull vanished when he fell unconscious. You two have to put up another.”

  Azhan paused at the hatchway. “But we have never before done that.”

  “I don’t care,” Jiron said. Grabbing both by the shoulders, he pushed them down the steps. “Fix it or your master dies.”

  The water was higher than it had been before. The hold was almost flooded and the horses were neighing in stark terror. Less than half the heads of what there should be were visible. Jiron couldn’t worry about that now.

  “Fix it in your mind,” Jiron said, thinking of how James had described how he did it, “and then have the magic make it happen.”

  “It’s not that simple,” argued Hikai.

  Jiron pulled a knife. “Do it, or I kill you right here!”

  Azhan rapid fired a string of Empirical words to Hikai, who glanced to Jiron, licked his lips nervously, then nodded. The two apprentices worked their way deeper into the hold.

  “Shorty!” Jiron hollered.

  When the knifer appeared at the top of the steps, he said, “Be ready to abandon ship if this doesn’t work.”

  Nodding, Shorty said, “Scar’s already working on it. Captain figures we’ll go under in less than ten minutes if they can’t fix the leak.”

  “See about organizing a bucket line when they have the leaks plugged.”

  “Will do.”

  The two apprentices were lost in the dark of the hold. Jiron could no longer see them. A minute ticked by and the water continued to rise.

  “We better get off this ship,” Shorty said when he returned. “It�
��s listing badly.” Now listing nearly twenty degrees less than true, it was necessary to lean or brace against something in order to remain upright. “They aren’t going to fix it.”

  Jiron gazed up at him, then back into the hold.

  “Azhan!” he hollered. “Hikai!”

  Several seconds ticked by then he hollered again. “Azhan!”

  Then there was motion from the dark recesses of the hold. Hikai swam back to the steps.

  “Azhan has done it!” he exclaimed jubilantly. “The main hole is fixed.”

  “Well done,” praised Jiron.

  “But he says there is much damage to the hull in general.”

  “What does that mean?” Jiron demanded.

  “It means he is unable to create patches for every leak,” he explained. “The damage is too extensive.”

  “How bad does it remain?” Shorty asked.

  Hikai shrugged. “I do not know.”

  “If the main hole is plugged, we might be able to limp to land. Shorty, tell the captain we need every available bucket and man to carry them.”

  Jiron laid a hand on Hikai’s shoulder. “Well done. Now, go help Azhan.”

  Hikai bobbed his head and pushed himself off the steps and swam back to Azhan.

  Leaving the hold, Jiron returned back up to the deck.

  “I tell you the ship is lost!” Captain Anyn yelled at Shorty.

  “They have the hole plugged, Captain,” Jiron said. “All we need to do is bail the water until we get to land.”

  The captain rounded on Jiron and shook his head. “You don’t understand,” he said. “We have no main mast, no secondary mast. Coupled with the way she’s listing we aren’t going anywhere. Don’t you understand? We are dead in the water!”

  Jiron grabbed a bucket from where it laid on the deck and forced it into Captain Anyn’s hands. “Have your men start bailing.” When the captain hesitated, Jiron yelled, “Now!” At his elbow stood Tinok. “See that they are diligent in their work.”

  “You got it.” Taking Scar, Potbelly and Shorty in tow, Tinok escorted the captain to round up his crew.

  “He’s right, you know.”

  Turning to Father Vickor, Jiron shrugged. “Perhaps.”

  “Then why make them do it?”

  “Because he irritates me.”