An Oath of Brothers

by Morgan Rice

  Thor sat right beside her, did not try to keep his distance from her affliction—nor, he was proud to see, did any of the others. They all treated her like one of their own, as if she had been part of their group forever, as if she did not have a contagious disease. Thor himself felt overjoyed to have her there. He was inspired by her happiness, her joy for life, despite all she had suffered. She was a role model for him. She lived as if she had no affliction, as if nothing in the world were wrong with her, and was overflowing with a sense of freedom, clearly elated at being off the island. Thor was beginning to see the world through her eyes, and everything was beginning to feel new to him, too.

  As they bobbed in the vast sea, the current pulling them to a blackening horizon, Thor could not help but feel a sense of aimlessness; for the first time, he had no idea where they were going. Always he had felt a driving sense of purpose, knowing exactly where he was going to find Guwayne. He had been certain he would find him on that island. How could he have been so wrong? Were his senses beginning to fail him?

  But now, with Guwayne nowhere in sight and with no real leads, Thor had no idea where to look. As they drifted, he felt as if he were at the whim of God, wherever he should take him. And he began to have a sinking feeling that he might not ever find Guwayne again.

  Thor saw the faces of his brothers, forlorn, shell-shocked, all of them having been through so much, and clearly looking as if they had no idea where to go next. Their people were far away, in a hostile Empire, if they were even still alive. Thor thought of Gwendolyn and felt a pit in his stomach. He wanted to return to her, to help her—but he was halfway across the world and he still had not found Guwayne.

  Thor looked up and searched the skies for Lycoples, wondering if she could help. But all he saw were increasingly thickening clouds, no sign of the dragon in sight. The only sound he heard was the increasingly loud howl of the wind.

  “A fish!” Angel screamed in delight and stood, watching the waters, clapping and pointing.

  Thor followed her gaze and saw one of the many common white and blue fish they had seen following the boat all throughout their journeys, skimming the surface, then disappearing beneath the waves. Thor marveled that it would bring such delight to her, but then realized, having never been off that island, everything must seem new and exciting to her.

  Angel scanned the ocean with delight.

  “I’ve always wanted to go somewhere,” she said. “Anywhere. I don’t care where we go, as long as I never step foot on the island again. Every one of them—they were all just waiting to die.”

  “Well, we may not be waiting,” Elden said, looking up at the horizon, “we might be dying pretty soon.”

  All of them turned and followed his gaze, and Thor’s stomach dropped as he saw what lay ahead of them. The sky, sunny overhead, was completely black and frothing in the distance. He saw a solid wall of water coming right for them, impossibly fast. It was a downpour, a massive storm, and moment to moment Thor could feel the wind getting stronger, the boat rocking more forcefully.

  “We need a bigger boat,” Reece observed.

  Thor knew they had to sail away from that storm, to get out of its path. With a sense of urgency, he jumped to his feet and began working the sails, and the others all jumped in along with him, some raising and lowering sails, others turning the rudder, and others rowing. They all worked as hard as they could, and they managed to turn the boat and catch the wind in the opposite direction, trying to get away from the storm. They no longer cared what direction they were going in—as long as it wasn’t toward that blackness.

  The wind picked up, sailing them faster than ever, the boat tilted sideways as white caps popped up all around them. And yet, even as fast as they were going, as Thor turned back and checked the horizon, he saw the storm bearing down on them. It was a futile endeavor. The clouds closed in on them, like a cheetah racing their way.

  Even more ominous, Thor spotted rough seas traveling their way, enormous waves, big enough to crush their boat ten times over.

  Thor gulped, having a bad feeling about this, and he looked straight ahead, hoping for any sign of shelter, another island perhaps, and saw where the wind was driving them: the destination ahead was even more ominous than the one behind them. The Dragon’s Spine. It lay right in their path, and the wind was driving them right toward it, with frothing and churning seas.

  Trapped between two deadly locations, Thor did not know which was worse. Either one could easily tear their boat to pieces. The others, too, seemed frozen in indecision, all of them in awe at the power of nature.

  The wind picked up so loud, Thor could barely hear himself think, and he knew the inevitable was happening. They were caught up in something greater than themselves, and there was simply nothing they could do. Theirs was just a small sailing vessel, meant as an outship for Gwendolyn’s greater ship—not meant to traverse the seas, and certainly not meant for a storm like this. Indeed, they were lucky they had made it as far as they had in this small vessel without a storm like this coming sooner. This, Thor realized, was their first real storm.

  Thor watched as the angry storm narrowed the gap, but a hundred yards away. They began to get pelted with more wind, more rain, and the waters began to rise and fall, twenty-foot waves, then thirty, rising ever higher, then dropping just as quickly. Thor felt his stomach plummeting.

  The wind raged even louder, tearing off their sail, and Thor watched it lift into the air and disappear. He realized they needed to prepare for impact.

  “Get down!” Thor yelled. “Lie down on the deck! Grab hold of something and don’t let go!”

  They all followed his command, all jumping down to the deck. Only Angel continued to stand, staring out, fascinated by the sky, the most fearless of all of them. As the waves crashed around her, Thor saw her begin to slip, and knew she was about to go over the edge.

  Thor leapt up, landing on top of her just as a wave crashed over the edge the boat. He pinned her down to the deck, not letting her go as the wave pushed them from one side of the boat to the other.

  “Hold on to me!” he yelled over the wind.

  Thor grabbed hold of her with all he had, wrapping an around her arm with leprosy, and not caring. With his other hand, he grabbed hold of a wooden pole secured to the deck.

  After that last wave hit, her expression changed to one of fear.

  “I’m scared,” she said, shaking, as another wave crashed down on them.

  “Don’t be scared,” he said. “It’s all going to be okay. I’ve got you. Nothing will happen to you that won’t happen to me first. I swear it. By all the gods I swear it,” he said, meaning it more than he’d meant anything in his life.

  She clutched his waist, her nails digging into his skin, and as she did, she screamed as an enormous wave came crashing down on them. The weight of it felt as if it were crushing Thor’s ribs.

  Thor suddenly felt them both underwater, tumbling, over and over, deep beneath the waves. He saw the faces of all his brothers in arms spinning upside down, again and again, in the water, as he felt himself plummeting, deeper and deeper, unable to surface.

  He could think of nothing in all the chaos, as water filled his eyes and ears and nose, as the pressure bore down on him, nothing at all, save for one thing: hold onto Angel. No matter what, hold on.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  Alistair stood at the bow of the ship, Erec by her side, and looked up with all the others at the enormous monster bearing down on them all, screeching, its jaws open wide, revealing hundreds of rows of jagged teeth, and preparing to swallow them all. Alistair knew that this monster would destroy their ship, that one swipe of those clause would crack their ship in half, send it plummeting into the raging ocean and drown them all—if its teeth did not get them first. They had sailed right into the jaws of death—and there was no turning back.

  Alistair knew that, if they were to survive, something had to be done quickly. She looked around at all the men, all paralyze
d with fear, and she knew they would do little but meet their deaths. She could not blame them. Nothing could be done. They were staring destiny in the face, a monster against which no weapon could suffice.

  Alistair did not want to die this way; even more so, she did not want Erec, who she loved more than herself, to die this way. The thought of losing him, of their not being together, of him dying here, on this ship, with this sea as his grave—and with their child in her belly—was more than she could bear.

  Alistair closed her eyes, determined to change her destiny, determined to not accept this fate, and in that moment, she felt time freeze. She felt her entire body turning hot, prickling with the heat, the familiar energy welling up within her that arose in times of crisis—the power she did not understand and which she could not always control. She felt it overwhelming her, taking over her, a flush racing through her body that made her feel that she and her body were no longer one.

  Please God, she prayed, feeling Him listening. Grant me the power you have given me. Allow me to stop this creature from destroying us. Allow me to save all these people. Allow me to save Erec. Allow me to save our child.

  Alistair felt the heat passing through her palms, such a powerful heat she could barely control it, and suddenly, time came rushing back to full speed, as she opened her eyes and found herself back in this place and time, back in the present moment.

  She looked up at the monster, unafraid, and raised her arms high above her head. She aimed her palms at the beast, and allowed her energy to come forth.

  Alistair watched, amazed, as two orbs of light went flying from her palms, up toward the creature. It all happened so fast, in the blink of an eye, she had to brace herself, as the creature’s claws came right for her and as the light impacted it with the sudden force of an explosion.

  The orbs lit up the blackened skies, like lightning flashing through the storm, and Alistair watched as the creature’s hand was suddenly turned sideways. Instead of destroying their ship, the monster swiped down and smacked the water to the side of the ship, just missing them. It was a blow that surely would have killed them all.

  The creature hit the water with such strength and power that it caused a sudden wave to rise up, like a mountain in the water, setting off a tidal wave. The displaced water rose up, ever higher, in an enormous wave, lifting their boat.

  Alistair felt their boat suddenly shoot high up in the air, a good fifty feet, before it came crashing down on the far side of the wave.

  A horrific cracking noise tore through the air and Alistair looked over and watched one of the ships of their fleet go crashing down on the wrong side of that wave, on the jagged rocks of the Dragon’s Spine. It smashed into pieces, its men screaming as they tumbled down through the air and into the raging sea. Alistair winced as hundreds of men met their deaths.

  The monster, now in a rage, turned back and focused on Alistair. She could see the fury in its soulless eyes, see how determined it was to kill them. It raised its claws in hate and brought them down for her ship again.

  “Alistair, get down!” Erec yelled, seeing the beast coming for her and trying to protect her.

  But Alistair ignored him. She did not need his protection; she did not need anyone’s protection. She had the power of God within her, and the power of God, she knew, had dominion over any creature in the world.

  Again Alistair raised her arms at it, and aimed it at the creature as it swooped down for her.

  Orbs of light shot forth, and this time she managed to divert the creature’s claws to the other side of the ship, once again just missing and setting off another enormous wave.

  The cracking of wood and men’s screams filled the air yet again, and Alistair turned to see another ship sent over the waves and smashing into the Dragon’s Spine, all its men crushed to death.

  The creature wheeled, enraged, and this time it took aim on another one of Erec’s ships, before Alistair realized what it was doing. In an instant it smashed it to bits, its claw coming down right on the center of it. It flattened the mast and the sails, flattened the deck, breaking it all into a million little pieces. Men shrieked, crushed beneath its weight, meeting a horrible death in the storm-swept seas of the Dragon’s Spine.

  Alistair examined the beast, turning back to her yet again; she had underestimated it. It was more powerful than she had realized, and while she’d been able to avert it, she hadn’t been able to stop it completely. She felt those men’s deaths were on her head. She had never encountered a power as strong as this.

  The winds howled and the storm raged, as enormous waves kept rolling them up and down on the sea. The creature, infuriated, set its sights on Alistair, and this time, she could see the determination in its eyes. It clearly had never encountered a power such as hers, either.

  The monster launched at her with the length and weight of its entire body, arms raised out, diving forward, as if aiming to land on their ship with the full weight of its belly. What remained of the light in the sky was blackened under the shade of the beast’s shadow, as it came down with all its weight, right for them.

  All the men on her ship shrieked and cowered, all putting their hands on their heads, cringing, ready to meet their deaths. All except Erec, who stood by her proudly.

  Alistair though, did not cower, and did not retreat. She stood her ground and raised her palms high overhead. As the creature came down, now just feet away, she summoned all the power within her, every last ounce she had. An image of her mother flashed in her mind, an image of her power. She saw light surround her. Invincible, impregnable, light.

  She knew that she was more than a normal woman. She was special. She carried a power inside her meant for a special destiny, a power that came once a generation. She hailed from Kings and Queens. And most of all, she was infused with the limitless power of God.

  She could be stronger than this creature, she knew. She just had to allow her power—her full power—to summon forth.

  As Alistair raised both arms, she felt an enormous heat flash from her and saw a yellow light shoot from her hands, a light brighter than any she had ever seen. The light impacted the beast’s belly, right above her, and it stopped it in midair.

  Alistair lifted her palms higher and higher, struggling with all her might, her arms and elbows shaking as she tried to hoist it.

  Suddenly Alistair felt the power shoot through her, and she watched in awe as the creature went flying up with a screech, high up in the air, shooting up hundreds of feet, flailing, shrieking. She focused on pushing it up to the sky, and as she did, as it went flying farther and farther away, she felt dominion over the creature. She felt all-powerful.

  Alistair directed her arms, and as she did, the beast went flying sideways. Alistair spotted the jagged rocks of the Dragon’s Spine protruding straight up into the sky and she directed the creature until it was above them—then suddenly, she pulled back her arms with all her might.

  The monster came plummeting straight down, arms and legs flailing, straight for the jagged points of the Spine. Alistair kept pulling it down, down, until finally it impacted with the sharp rocks, impaled from head to toe on the Dragon’s Spine.

  The monster lay there, grotesque, unmoving, rivers of blood dripping down from it into the sea.

  Dead.

  Alistair felt Erec and the others all turn and look at her in awe. She stood there, trembling, drained from the ordeal, and Erec came up beside her and draped an arm around her.

  They were now near the end of the Dragon’s Spine, the blue skies apparent just in front of them, and one more huge wave lifted up their ship and this time, instead of tossing it backwards, it propelled them forward, into a calm sea of sunny skies.

  All was quiet as the wind stopped, the waves calmed, the ships righted themselves.

  Alistair looked up in disbelief. They had made it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  Luptius sat at the head of the Grand Council table, in the center of the Empire Capital’s High Cham
bers, an immense, circular marble building built of shining, black granite, framed by a hundred columns, and he stared back at the Councilmen, all young, stupid men, with disgust. This was the not the Grand Council he once knew, the one that had consolidated the Empire to power and ruthlessness, the one that would never have allowed the conflicts that had erupted within the Empire these past moons. He was in a bitter mood, and ready to let it out on someone.

  He sat in this building, meant to inspire fear, and looked around the table at the representatives from the Six Horns of the Empire, formidable men of nearly every Empire race. There were governors of regions, commanders of armies, all of them collectively representing the tens of millions of Empire citizens and countless provinces. Luptius studied the faces one at a time, pondering all their words and their opinions, which had gone on for hours in this endless meeting. They brought in reports from every corner of the Empire. The ripple effect from Andronicus’s death, then Romulus’s death, was still spreading to the provinces; power grabs and internal conflicts were never ending. This is what it meant to have an Empire, he knew, without a living supreme leader.

  There came reports of Romulus’s million men, still occupying the Ring, now leaderless, purposeless, causing havoc; there came reports of the assassination of Romulus at Volusia’s hand; there came reports of Volusia’s new army, of her attempted coup. It all fell into bickering, none of these men agreeing on a course of action, and all of them vying for power. All of them, Luptius knew, wanted to succeed Romulus. This meeting was as much an audition for power as a report of the state of the Empire.

  Arguments continued over whether elections should be held, whether military commanders should rule, over which province should have greater power—even over whether the capital should be moved.