Spirit of the Sea

by Keith Walter

  Only after her feet first hit the wooden walkway did her eyes open, revealing startling white. Her strides were filled with confidence and purpose, her hips swayed ever so slightly with each step. No warm-blooded fey within sight could ignore the awesome beauty on approach, but those eyes told a story of power. This was not some handmaiden or driver; this was a confidant of the regent himself.

  The dark beauty didn’t stop at the end of the pocket dimension as the regent had. She strode right through, stopping only at the edge of Grace’s deck. Those perfect white eyes seemed to watch everyone at once, but her face offered neither sympathy nor judgment. “I come to fulfill his majesty’s arrangement,” she announced. Like every other part, her voice was perfect, almost ethereal.

  Barclay, who stood close enough to touch the angel, lifted himself to his full height and stared down those all-seeing eyes. “Lead the way,” he replied.

  The angel nodded before turning on her heels and commanding, “Come.”

  “All right, kids, I want each one of you to hold hands with the person next to ya,” Barclay announced. He walked to the closest convert and grabbed their hand, startling the face under the hood. He stared at Leslie and Serin. “Help them.” Serin and Leslie broke from their hugs reluctantly and moved into the crowd, pulling members closer as needed to create a giant chain of hands. The moment the final hands were clasped, Barclay ordered out, “We’re moving. Keep your eyes open, follow the person in front of you. Go slow, don’t push or pull.” Eyeing the bonded, he added, “You two bring up the rear.”

  And so they marched. Barclay led the first convert onto the walkway slowly, with the retainer ahead. The chain slowly straightened into a single file line. Grace, Charles, Leslie, and Serin gave an encouraging push or redirection as needed, and slowly the chain began to leave the ship. Once the line was set, Serin and Leslie turned to the fey who would remain.

  Leslie scooped up Grace in a hug, lifting the shorter woman off the ground. “This is happening so fast.”

  “I think the regent likes to get things done,” Grace offered. “I will miss you, Leslie.”

  “And I, you, Gracie,” the tall woman agreed. Tears fell down her cheeks and she buried her face in Grace’s hair.

  Charles eyed Serin skeptically, who looked him over just the same. “Take care of your people,” Charles stated, holding out a hand to shake.

  Serin smiled, slapping her wrist to his. She squeezed, jolting him with a bolt of magic where their wrists joined. “I will. Can’t just expect some nutjob to come save us this time.”

  “I think I would have liked to know you better,” Charles admitted. “Maybe you could have taught me a little bit about what family is supposed to be.”

  “You’re a good guy, Charles. I would be happy to call you one of my family.” Her eyes sparkled, and she smiled. “But I don’t know if you’re ready for all that yet.”

  The line of converts had almost completely exited the ship. Serin’s eyes moved from the backs of her old family to the faces of her new family. “Take care of each other,” she breathed, her body fighting against moving.

  Grace pulled Charles in close. “We will.”

  Leslie offered a hand to Serin, who stared at the deck as she entwined their fingers. A gentle pull, and the bonded moved to follow the converts off the ship. Just as they reached the gate, Serin stopped and turned. “I will see you again, in the next life if not this one.” There was no response to wait for, and she pulled Leslie across the veil.

  With the pocket dimension between her and the crew, Grace finally broke down. Charles held her close, letting her tears stain his shirt. All he could do was watch them all walk away until his own vision began to blur.

  ◆◆◆

  For the crew, the carriage ride was surprisingly pleasant. The inside was quite a bit larger than the outside, and there were seats to spare even after all had climbed in. When the carriage stopped, after waiting a full minute, Barclay opened the door himself. The driver was gone and he found himself in front of a building nothing like the palace. From the outside, it was rather nondescript, just a single story of smooth, white wall. Barclay wasn’t going to walk around to check it out, but he guessed from the curvature that it was circular in shape.

  He called the rest out and moved to open the doors on the building. Inside, the same smooth walls continued all around. The building was a perfect circle, and in the center there was a depression, perhaps ten feet across and three feet deep. The regent stood waiting.

  “Barclay, my good man, I am glad you all made it.”

  “Thank you, Regent. We place ourselves at your mercy,” Barclay replied formally.

  “Come, come,” the giant man tutted, “let us speak plainly.”

  Barclay eyed the room suspiciously, unsure how to take the regent’s remark. “Is there more we need to speak of, Regent?”

  The regent turned around, smiling. “I have arranged to send you and your people off my island.”

  “Thank you, Regent,” Barclay stated.

  “But I thought, perhaps, you and I might come to an understanding,” the giant offered.

  Barclay eyed the regent carefully. “Of course. What might I understand?”

  “You are a fine young lad, Barclay. I spoke truth when I said I had great plans for you.” His hands began to dance in the air as he spoke. “Ulsimore has a distinct knack for ingratiating himself with people. He has planted seeds of my operation throughout much of the Union.” He winked. “I know you were worried about him, but you need not. He has simply been reassigned to new opportunities. You, however, are the type to handle the boots on the ground. You will get your hands dirty to keep operations moving and your people respect you.”

  “You are too kind,” Barclay found himself stating when the regent paused.

  “I have an eye for talent, Barclay. When my people begin whispering of a ghost on the seas, a man who would not be found unless he desired it, I knew such a man was exactly what Ulsimore needed. And I was right. You may not be aware, but production and profit from the Midwest has doubled since you were brought on board. That kind of value does not go unnoticed.”

  Barclay was still wary of the conversation, and decided to head off the worst of it right away. “I apologize once again for what happened to Ulsimore’s dock. It was entirely my decision.”

  “Oh posh, man, I am not looking to punish you. As I said, production was booming, perhaps too much. Had you remained there much longer, the Union surely would have tracked down the influx of banned materials. And truly, I expect nodes of operations to come and go. I would have had to shut down the docks myself if the Union got too close.” The giant smiled wide. “No, I am not trying to punish you. Quite the opposite. I am offering you a job. There are many tasks and decisions that must be made here, at the center of my business. And there are few that I can trust to make those decisions without me. I believe you met one already.”

  Barclay thought back to the angel that brought them here. Who but the most trusted would be tasked with collecting fugitives that the regent could not be caught in connection to. “You would have me work for you, here?”

  “Yes,” he announced with a clap. “We would change your name, get you some finer clothes. The Union knows better than to try spying on me or searching my land. You would be free here, from shore to shore. You would never have to look over your shoulder or wonder when you might be found. Surely you realize what your life will be like otherwise.”

  “That is…tempting,” Barclay agreed. He turned to the stunned face of Leslie, and the betrayed look from Serin. “However, I must decline.”

  “Decline?” the regent asked, feigning his lack of hearing.

  “Yes, Regent, I must decline.” He took a deep breath. “You see, the moment I led these fey off board, I took responsibility for them. I’d be betraying Grace, them, and perhaps most important, myself if I walked away from them now.”

  The regent’s face fell dramatically. “I am terribly disappo
inted.” Barclay’s muscles tensed, preparing for anything, but instead the regent smiled wide. “But I can hardly fault you for proving yourself the man I hoped.”

  “Thank you for your understanding,” Barclay breathed out, relieved.

  The giant walked around the far side of the depression. He held his hands out and the depression filled with a thick, black liquid. When the liquid was just about to reach the lip of the depression, it stopped. The surface calmed almost immediately, and it reflected the overhead lights. “Come forward,” the regent commanded.

  Barclay stepped forward first, bringing his feet to the edge of the oily pool and waiting for the rest of the crew to shuffle behind him. “We’re ready,” he announced seriously.

  A sad expression covered the regent’s face. “I do hope you understand, Barclay, how much I like you. It is because of my fondness that I tell you this—the knowledge I now possess is dangerous to all fey outside the territory of the Ancients. You would do well to deny it, but I know you well enough to say that you’ve guessed that knowledge even if you haven’t been told.” He took a deep, calming breath before continuing. “I shall do as arranged. The Union shall not know you were ever here and they shall not know where I am sending you. You are safe as I send you, and you shall be safe for a time where you arrive. However, you will understand if where you go leaves me less concerned about that deadly knowledge getting out.”

  Barclay nodded. “I understand. You do what you must.”

  “Good luck, young man,” the regent offered sincerely. With a wave of his giant hand, the regent commanded the black liquid to rise up and swallow the group. As the living liquid returned to its home, it seemed to drain to nowhere. It left no marks on the walls or floor of the pool. When the final drop disappeared, the regent sighed.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN:

  The Lonely Road

  Grace walked to the bow, basking in the sun’s early light. Minutes ago, she had returned the regent’s Alter Key to one of his many subordinates. She felt naked without her camouflage runes but they hardly made sense any more. She was traveling again, moving slowly toward her fate. The regent’s subordinate had informed her that her mother was waiting a few miles out in the lake and she was to meet her immediately.

  Grace could feel her mother, much too close for her runes to have realistically kept her hidden anyway. She had half expected the other ship to come barreling into the dock the moment she turned off the key. But, no, her mother was being proud, rubbing it in. That great ship, spoken of only in whispers, was simply waiting for Grace to come crawling.

  Closing her eyes, Grace strained to take everything in. The years she had been trapped, she was cut off from the outside world. Even though she had only been free for a short time, she had already started to take the world for granted: the rhythm of the waves as they slapped against her hull, the faint sound the wind made as it blew across her deck, the subtle warmth of the sun as it poked its head through the morning clouds. The simple drone of her own engines as she drove toward her fate. All if it was so vivid now that she only had a limited time left.

  She had never really put too much thought into death, a ship such as herself didn’t have a finite lifespan. Sure, there were still conflicts and things that could end her, but she had thought that such a time was too far off to even consider. “Have you ever wondered what happens when we go?” she asked softly. Charles didn’t answer at first, but she could tell he was thinking.

  “Actually,” he replied, “that single question has been in my head for over forty years. It has kept me up countless nights and made it hard to breath sometimes.” He chuckled at the last part.

  Grace furrowed her brow. “And that is funny?”

  “No, the funny part is just how much time I spent on something so unimportant,” he said with confidence.

  “Unimportant? Is it not of particular importance right now?” Grace grimly asked.

  Charles smiled. “What was it like before you were born?”

  “I didn’t exist,” Grace replied skeptically. As she thought harder, she added, “At least, not as myself. My essence was still a part of my mother.”

  Charles nodded. “Leslie and her group believe in Behemoth. They say all our souls are seeds, grown and harvested from those before us.” He smirked. “But I don’t remember being a seed, just as it seems you don’t remember being a part of your mother.”

  “So what are you saying?” she inquired.

  “I’m pointing out that we don’t really know—can’t really know.” He waved his hands around dismissively. “Maybe that group is right, and Behemoth has picked each of us and planted a seed. Maybe all of us are just pieces of our parents that became our own thing. But we are who we are, what we are, now. The before and the after…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m starting to think I’ve spent too much time on things that didn’t change the now.”

  “So you think death is the same as not being born?”

  Charles picked up her hand in his own. “I’m saying here and now is what’s important. It took me a long time to figure that out.”

  Grace smiled briefly, but couldn’t help the frown that overtook her face. “I want to think Serin was right, though.” She caught Charles’s eye. “I hope I can see you all again. There was not enough time.”

  A mirrored frown overtook Charles’s features. “I hope so, too.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Of course, if there’s the chance to see all of you… Well, I would have to guess there are a lot more souls waiting to see me. I don’t think all of them will be happy.”

  Grace finally understood the deep truth beneath his words. Despite the captain’s pushing, Charles would always feel guilt over those that were lost. It was something she could not truly understand, the guilt in taking a life. “The captain thinks otherwise,” she reminded.

  Charles smiled, but couldn’t meet her eyes. Fog suddenly began to drift around the pair. Both looked forward as a cloud seemed to build and engulf the ship. Charles absently rubbed Grace’s arm as he asked, “Did it just get colder?”

  “She always liked to make an entrance,” Grace muttered under her breath. Suddenly, the fog parted. Charles squeezed her hand as a giant destroyer appeared. The Entregon’s black steel deck loomed twenty feet above Grace, but as it got closer, the ship seemed to squat in the water until both decks were exactly level.

  It was only then that Charles could make out a lone figure on the other ship. There was no mistaking the resemblance between the two women. This was Grace’s mother. Some sort of magnetic force pulled the two bows together and they made a hollow thud when they connected.

  “Did you have fun?” Entregon asked without moving. The tone held no mirth, more accusatory than genuine. And then, a funny thing happened. Those sharp eyes softened. The thin line that was her mouth relaxed, and the edges curled up despite themselves. “It is good to see you, my daughter.”

  Grace stood defiant, her fingers firmly curled around Charles’s own. But even she could not keep the mask of anger on her face. Despite everything, this was still family. “It is good to see you as well, Mother.”

  Entregon stepped across the joined bows, white dress flowing in the wind. Pain and anger flitted across the older woman’s face the moment her feet touched Grace’s deck. She crouched suddenly, running a hand over her daughter lovingly. “This is fine work,” she said. “I could not have done better myself.”

  “Thank you.” Grace found herself nearly at a loss for words. She had forgotten, more likely blocked out in the last forty years, that her mother was not always a harsh taskmaster.

  The older woman stood up and walked toward the couple, stopping just far enough away that she could touch her daughter if they stretched out their hands. She eyed the man whose hand her daughter held. She didn’t bother hiding the sneer. “No accounting for your taste in crew.”

  A mask of fury formed over Grace’s features. “He is not just my crew, Mother. He is…” She trailed off,
looking to Charles for assistance. Charles didn’t turn to her, glaring instead at the woman in front of him. “He is my to be my bond,” she added quickly.

  Entregon brought a single hand to her face and closed her eyes. An amused smile played on her lips, and a small tremble chopped her sigh as it escaped. Charles thought the woman might have the hiccups, but Grace was livid, realizing Entregon was attempting to hide laughter. Entregon composed herself in seconds and caught Grace in a serious stare. “I am disappointed in you, child.”

  Those words may as well have been a light switch being flipped. Whatever composure or pride Grace had was out the window. She took a threatening step forward, closing the space enough to stick a finger in her mother’s face and nearly throw Charles off balance. “Nothing changes then, huh? I’m still just a stupid kid to you, a black mark on your great name that you need to hide in the closet when guests come over.”

  Entregon stood up straighter and laced her fingers together, but showed no other sign of being perturbed. “Have you really spent all those years thinking me so petty? You have many faults which I have tried to teach you out of, but stupidity has never been one.” She pushed her daughter’s finger down and took half a step forward as Grace gaped in confusion. Entregon let her fingers comb through her daughter’s hair affectionately, absently smoothing out hairs that had begun to fly out of place. “Everything I have done has been to protect you.”

  “Protect me?” Grace half shouted, jerking her head back from the surprisingly pleasant touch. “Is that how you see it? Was it protecting me to blast my engines and nearly drown me in the Atlantic?”

  “You weren’t ready to be on your own,” Entregon replied curtly. “Besides, I had taught you how to heal such injuries before your little tantrum.”

  “So if you hadn’t taught me how to heal, you wouldn’t have shot me? Is that what you’re saying?” Grace demanded.

  Entregon remained unmoved. “No, I still would have shot you.” At Grace’s shocked face, she continued. “Of course, I would have healed you myself. Have I not always taken care of you?” She reached out again, trying to soothe her daughter.