Sight Beyond Epik Sight: A Steampunk Fantasy Romp (Epik Fantasy Book 3)

by William Tyler Davis

  “Now, by this time, at only sixteen, I had become skilled as both a sorcerer and potions master—my mother, of course, taught me both. There in that kitchen, I learned that the king had an affection for midnight snacks—what a silly thing to be one’s downfall.

  “Here is where a young mind may think the story over. Of course, it’s not so easy to steal a throne. The king had heirs, and they would all stand in my way.”

  “So you killed them, too?” Epik asked.

  The Grand Sovereign smiled grimly. “No, not exactly… You see, I now knew it to be true that the sword had some sort of power. The king needed it by his side always. So, I took it. And in doing so, I sealed my fate.”

  The Grand Sovereign turned and strode toward Epik. “How was I to know—I couldn’t have known—that one prick of my finger against the razor’s edge of the sword would mean instant death? It stole my magic, it wrenched me from my body, and I was mostly dead, lifeless in every sense of the word… save one.”

  “You were a wraith?”

  “That’s right—it took ten years for my mother to find a witch both powerful and naive enough to return me to a body. Ten years of floating about the realm as nothing more than vapor and spirit. Using my brother Doland’s spirit and magic, I was brought back to the world. Oddly enough, it was this witch who Doland grew fond of later in life.

  “Anyway, when I returned my mother welcomed me with open arms. She told me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but it.

  “So help me, she swore that my father had not actually been my father, just Doland’s. I was the king’s bastard. You see, I had killed my real father without knowing it. And I had as much right to that throne as the other heirs. Or so I tell myself...”

  “So, that’s when you killed them?” Epik asked.

  “No,” the Grand Sovereign said through clinched teeth, “that’s when my mother gave me the sword she’d stolen. No one had touched it since that day. She also gave me this ring.” He raised it. “It was hers, the one she had gifted Doland’s father, the one she’d used to help him win the king’s favor by transferring her magic. Doland had no use for it… Through it, she gifted me power.

  “And when next I took hold of the sword, it spoke to me. See, this was no ordinary blade.”

  “Yeah, I’ve already seen that,” Epik replied.

  “Now this blade said it was an artifact from an earlier time. The sword of the Destroyer—some know her as Death. But she is so much more than that. She destroys anything and everything—not just life, but magic, as well.

  “I don’t know why or how she lost the blade, but it still performed as it was forged to—killing anything it touched. It lived and breathed magic.

  “I wanted, of course, to cast it aside. To leave it somewhere and never hear from it again, but it promised me two things—everlasting life and power. It taught me how to source my own magic, how to steal from the meek…”

  “I don’t get it,” Epik said. “You work for a sword?”

  “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? But again, no—how insipidly unknowing are you? I thought your training was mostly complete?

  “You see, what the sword failed to understand was we weren’t allies. It had ripped me from the world, and I was itching to return the favor. I spent the new few years studying it, learning its magic—all under the guise of helping complete its mission.

  Its own magic wasn’t the first that I stole, but it was the best. It had given its secrets away. In an attempt to teach me to wield its powers, it taught me everything I needed to know about how to store and disperse magic.

  Disperse, what an interesting word choice, Epik thought.

  “And that’s when I killed my brothers.”

  “Finally,” Epik almost cheered.

  “It was also when my mother saw me for what I am. But it was already too late. She cursed the kingdom with that wretched ten-year rule. Then she went into hiding with that Coven.”

  Epik’s eyes widened.

  “Oh yes, you’ve met her,” the Grand Sovereign said.

  “Schmilda?”

  The old wizard shrugged and turned away. His eyes went back to the sky where the dot on the sun had grown to a blip. Plainly, something was closing in high above them.

  It has to be the airship, Epik thought.

  “You’ve learned a lot about the exchange of magic. I’m almost ready for yours… almost.”

  The ship lurched underneath them. The Grand Sovereign shielded his gaze from the sun as the galleon rose from the water, the sails filling with air.

  Epik could plainly see the dirigible above them now. And he could plainly see that it wouldn’t be above them for long.

  38

  Fluke

  Beneath the airship, the Bludmud River snaked its course toward Dune All-En—a long and windy course that eventually forked into the Sudden River.

  “What ails you, young sir?” Todder sauntered over. The old captain was especially chipper since leaving the witches’ cottage.

  “I, uh, I always get like this before battle.” Brendan took his eyes off the river for a moment. “Just nerves, I guess. What about you—what has you in such good spirits?”

  “Nerves, huh.” Todder grimaced. “Is it that easy to see? I’m just happy to be away.”

  He sighed. “Those witches, they told me things—things better left unsaid, if you ask me—things about my gran, my granddad, and even my father. The weird thing is, I never thought my family would be the sort to get caught up in all this business.”

  Todder waved his hand at the river as if that answered anything. “Out of curiosity, may I ask why you’re staring down there?” Todder asked.

  “I was looking for—for that!” Brendan pointed.

  “Ship sighted,” Ursa called from the crow’s nest. But Brendan was already striding across the deck. Todder followed after him. “Millie, take us down to meet it.”

  The girl nodded and pushed down on the wheel.

  “Battle stations,” Brendan ordered, knowing full well they were already there. He turned back to Todder and said, “Make sure you’re locked onto a safety line. I’ve lost enough good men on this ship. And Millie,” Brenan turned, “be ready if that thing goes airborne.”

  “Airborne?” Todder scoffed. “Why that’d be—”

  “What?” Brendan laughed. “Inconceivable? Trust me, Captain. When I go into a battle, I think through every possible scenario. And that’s one I think has the highest probability.”

  In the distance, a fully rigged galleon, like nothing Brendan had ever seen, carved through the ice as if it was nothing but cold water. Had this been a sea battle, they definitely wouldn’t stand a chance. Behind it, a storm was brewing. A grayish cloud stalked the ship, dark and brooding.

  “Turn to port,” Brendan pointed. “I have an idea.”

  “Listen. I’m not saying yer wrong,” Todder said, insinuating Brendan was wrong, “but we’re up here. They’re down there. There’s nothing to worry over. Just get in range and use those blastin’ cannons.”

  “Well, we can agree on that.” Brendan stooped under rigging to stand beside Millie at the helm. “Come down behind those cliffs. Let’s try to get out of their view. See if it follows us somehow. Gun captain, cannons ready.”

  “Aye, sir,” Causeway yelled.

  “Yes, sir!” Millie steered the airship another quarter turn to the left.

  Just under the airship was a cut bank, and behind that towered several mountains, their peaks covered in ice and snow.

  If only we had Sir Epik to vanish us—make us look like a cloud, Brendan thought. Then we’d really get the element of surprise.

  The Tabletop Mountains, while smaller than the Tenzing Mountains to the south of the realm, made for good cover, if only temporarily. But he didn’t need them. A few seconds later, Brendan felt a harsh shiver run down his spine as if he’d been splashed with warm water. He knew they had vanished from view. Whether it was his own magic or Epik had hear
d him, he didn’t know.

  Behind the snow topped summit, the river itself became barely visible, and a world of snow covered by alpine trees swept beneath them in a blur.

  “Impossible,” Todder gaped.

  “While that might be a better word,” Brendan said, “it’s obviously not true. This is the Grand Sovereign we’re talking about.”

  The rest of the crew caught on and watched as the giant ship, rigged not as an airship but as a sailing vessel, rode the wind. Its mast and sails inched above the first cliff. Then it came level behind them, sails fluttering. Something else—or someone else—was propelling it now.

  “Prepare the cannons,” Brendan ordered. “And Millie, come about. If he wants a fight, it’s time we give him one.”

  The propellers roared to life and the airship swerved about. Brendan asked for Epik to reveal the ship. He remembered the halflings words, complete the mission. Don’t worry about him. Still, Brendan worried. But he heeded the direction.

  When the spell was undone, they were showing their full broadside and cannon battery to the other ship.

  Brendan looked at Todder, and a slight smile curved on his cheeks. “I’ll show you impossible… FIRE!”

  39

  The Last Battle

  “Almost in range now,” the Grand Sovereign said, as oily as… well, as a snake oil salesman, “and then the real fun begins.”

  Epik’s stomach sank. Almost everyone he knew or loved was on that ship, apart from Kavya—and she stood on this deck with her sister’s knife blade practically piercing a very important artery.

  Under his hood, the Grand Sovereign chuckled. “This is your only hope?” He raised a hand with a motion as if drawing the airship closer.

  Epik felt a tug at his magical store, an odd tug, involuntary. And then, well, then the airship vanished.

  “What the—”

  The Grand Sovereign’s galleon climbed higher. The dark wizard closed his blackened eyes, concentrating. But Brendan’s airship was nowhere to be seen, and Epik realized what must have happened. Brendan had used that magic somehow.

  Suddenly, the airship appeared—closer than it was before. Exposing its broadside, the airship’s cannons were poised and ready to fire.

  “What do they think they’re doing?” the Grand Sovereign scoffed. “Bringing the fight to us? Well, this should be interesting.”

  “Yes, it should,” Epik muttered under his breath.

  Immediately, the airship’s cannons lit up and fired, striking the hull of the galleon with loud metallic bangs. One ball whistled through the air and ripped through the top sails.

  For the first time in a long time, Epik felt a new feeling—a new hope. He buried it inside with the others.

  The Grand Sovereign drew in a breath. Cool, calm, and collected, he readied the galleon to return fire.

  The cannons beneath Epik’s feet fired, the vibrations rising like bile into his chest. Salvo after salvo all in sync. But the cannons weren’t manned—with a snap of the Grand Sovereign’s fingers, they fired in unison.

  Snap. BOOM.

  Snap BOOM.

  The old wizard smiled.

  Snap. BOOM.

  The old wizard had righted himself.

  “Do you really think you know something I don’t? Long ago, I closed myself off from my mother—protected myself from her influence and from her gaze. But just recently, I took those barriers down and found you there with her. I watched the making of this ship—I know its weaknesses.”

  Epik’s stomach again managed to sink. Metaphorically, it hung down to the mountains below. But Epik worked to push the feeling aside, to store it away.

  The airship maneuvered quickly. It rolled to the side and out of the line of fire of the Grand Sovereign’s cannons—he snapped his fingers anyway.

  “That… that’s impossible,” the old wizard cried foul. He watched. They both did. The airship spun like a top and aimed again.

  Ba ba BOOM.

  Shards of metal flew from the hull. The whole ship quaked and shuddered. Catarina and Kavya clung to the railing. But whatever the damage to the Grand Sovereign’s galleon, it still flew.

  “I need all hands on deck,” the Grand Sovereign boomed. He cackled a little, like his mother, and said to Epik, “I’ve always wanted to say that—I don’t know why.”

  The wind picked up, gusting steadily across the deck. The sails fluttered. Men, some of them knights Epik recognized, ran to the deck.

  The deck buzzed with each barrage. With the engines roaring to life, Millie really opened her up. The girl looked as sure at the wheel as she had on a broom. There was a fire in her eyes, and magic flaring behind them. Her hands made easy movements on the wheel, a quarter turn this way and then a half turn that. She rocked the wheel back, and the airship responded, climbing high until the engines choked. Then Millie pushed the wheel down, and they sputtered to life again as the ship dove toward the flattened mountaintops.

  Todder looked at Brendan uneasily, his skin turning a greenish color.

  “Now what’s wrong?” Brendan asked. “Weren’t you the one reassuring me a minute ago?”

  “What’s wrong? Goin’ into battle a hundred feet up in tha air is what’s wrong!”

  Todder’s harness still wasn’t clasped to the safety rigging. His knuckles were white from gripping the lines so tightly. He crouched as best he could as if bending closer to the deck was the same as having boots on the ground.

  “Right,” Brendan nodded, a smile on his lips, “but we’re several thousand feet up, I expect. Speaking of, I asked you to strap in.”

  “To do that,” Todder said, straining, “I’d have to let go.” The ship continued to plummet. Enemy cannon fire whistled overhead.

  Millie leveled the airship, even with the other once more, and another fusillade of cannon fire buzzed underfoot23.

  They were close now, the two ships. Brendan was able to make out figures on the deck. Oddly, the one that stood out did not stand very tall—Epik was half the size of the rest of the crew.

  “Amber, your spyglass,” he ordered. The girl patted her pockets and withdrew the instrument. Brendan grasped it firmly in his right hand and slung it open with a quick flick of his wrist. He peered over and tried to gauge the circumstances but was unable to get a true understanding of the situation.

  Epik was not bound there—magical or not, there was nothing holding the halfling to the deck of that ship. The crew, sparse as they were, weren’t doing much. They stared vacantly out in whatever direction they happened to be facing.

  Only the Grand Sovereign, or who Brendan assumed to be the Grand Sovereign, moved. He looked the part of dark wizard in a black hooded cloak. He seemed to be lecturing. Epik was half-listening, his eyes on the Phoenix.

  Then Brendan noticed Kavya there with another girl—this girl held Kavya in a manner that didn’t seem friendly.

  Get off that deck, Brendan thought to himself. Then he said it aloud, “We’ve got to get Epik and Kavya off that deck.”

  Todder squinted his eyes in an attempt to see across to the other ship.

  “He’s there, I promise you.” Brendan handed the spyglass over.

  Todder tried it warily, nodding, still holding one hand tightly on the line.

  When Brendan’s naked eyes took another look, they found that not only could they still see everything as plain as day, but that the Grand Sovereign’s cold stare was directed right back.

  “This is where it ends. You’ll see.” The Grand Sovereign snapped his fingers, and cannon fire answered.

  “Then why is there fear behind your eyes?” Epik asked.

  “Oh, that’s not fear.” His eyelids darkened.

  The mass of cloud behind them writhed and separated into dozens of gray shapes.

  Wraiths.

  “Ah, now you see the predicament they’re in…”

  The Grand Sovereign strode across the deck to the rail.

  “It’s almost time, Catarina,” he said. “I’l
l be needing both you and your sister’s magic. Epik’s will come last. I’ll defeat my son and take my true place as ruler of the entire realm—I can almost feel his presence now.”

  Catarina’s eyes widened.

  “I didn’t misspeak,” he said. “You knew this was coming—all a part of the contract you signed.”

  “But you said—”

  “Don’t waste my time parroting my promises to me. Like any classic villain, I’m going back on the deal.”

  “In that case,” Catarina replied, “like many classic pawns, I’m done being used by you.”

  She let go of Kavya.

  The Grand Sovereign beamed at his protege as if this was her graduation ceremony. And perhaps it was.

  “You’ll find, my dear, that I’m always one step ahead.” He blinked his eyes a second longer than usual and Sir Puckett and Sir Gallad drew their swords.

  But Catarina didn’t falter. “You’ll find I have surprises of my own.”

  The former knights threw their weapons overboard, down to the ground below.

  “How did you—”

  The Grand Sovereign’s glanced at the blade in her hand. “If only your knife could speak, I’m sure it could name every man or woman it has cut. But there’s at least one here whose blood has never actually known the taste of that blade.”

  He blinked, longer this time.

  This time, Catarina wasn’t ready. The crew converged on her. Her knife wasn’t quick enough. It fell. Then she and Kavya were both locked in the arms of vacant-eyed soldiers.

  “Hmm,” the Grand Sovereign picked up the knife, “is this how it works?” He cut Catarina’s forearm, and a trickle of blood streamed down the blade. He closed his eyes and breathed in.

  Epik felt it as both Catarina and Kavya’s store of magic passed to him.

  And the Grand Sovereign left them there still restrained in the soldiers’ arms while he turned his attention to the airship, now closer in the sky. Epik could just read its name… Phoenix.