by PT Hylton
And after the betrayals of Tor and Dahlia, Dustin was still uncertain who could be trusted.
“Inexplicable storms to the south and Barskall to the north,” the magistrate muttered. “Anything else?”
“Yes, actually.” The voice came from Yates, the captain of Typhoon, the largest ship currently in port other than Thunderclap.
The magistrate looked at him impatiently. “Well, let’s hear it then.”
Yates paused for a moment. He clearly didn’t want to say whatever it was that he was about to reveal. “I lost three more.”
The other Storm Captains exchanged nervous glances.
“You’re sure?” Captain Stephen asked.
Captain Yates nodded. “They’ve been gone three days. I checked with their families, and it turns out one of them owned an old fishing boat. That’s gone, too.”
“Wonderful,” the magistrate grumbled. “Headed north, I’d imagine?”
“I don’t know, but one would assume so.”
Sailors had been abandoning their posts and heading north all too frequently over the past few weeks. No one talked about the reason for the desertions out loud, but everyone knew. It was widely believed that Dahlia had fled north, and even after her attack on Holdgate many of the sailors still held her in high regard. It would appear that many of them were choosing to follow her over loyalty to their city.
There was a long silence, then Captain Roy spoke. “There’s nothing we can do to keep people here against their will. We can only try to keep morale high so that they don’t want to leave. We’ll deal with these traitors if and when we meet them on the open sea.”
The words made Dustin sit up a little straighter. If the usually jovial Captain Roy was talking like that, things had to be bad.
“Agreed,” the magistrate said. “Just as importantly, we need more sailors. We can rush some of the apprentice Storm Callers through the Testing to get them on ships if need be, but we still need crew. We’ve carried the weight of protecting the Kaldfell Peninsula for too long. It’s time to talk to Algon.”
The room fell silent again. Algon was the largest city on the Peninsula. It was located on the southern tip, far away from Barskall harassment, and they’d never been eager to aid in the Peninsula’s defense.
“And who are we going to send to talk to them?” Captain Stephen asked.
Everyone in the room knew who would have been selected for the job only a month ago—Tor. The respect he had commanded from every corner of the Peninsula would have made him perfect for the job.
Captain Roy leaned forward. “If I may make a suggestion, it seems we have two problems to sort out. Someone has to go to the Storm Wall to figure out how the hell so many Barskall are slipping through. I’d like to volunteer Thunderclap for that task. I have a bit of a history there, after all. And we have the best damn Storm Caller in the fleet.”
Dustin resisted the urge to dispute the comment. He had gone toe-to-toe with Dahlia, which was more than anyone else could say.
The magistrate nodded. “Fine. But that still leaves Algon. We need someone to travel south and convince those bastards to lend us a hand. And we need to figure out what’s up with those mystery storms while we’re at it.”
Captain Roy smiled. “I have a suggestion for that as well.”
***
Abbey stuck to the path, her eyes scanning the green foliage around her as she walked. She clutched her sword and crept silently along. They were nearing their target; she was sure of it.
In the weeks since the attack on Holdgate, the woodsmen who worked in the forest had been experiencing a series of strange raids. At first it had been small things: a missing tool here, a bit of food there.
But the occurrences soon became more brazen. Their camps were invaded by a small group of men, always during the day when most of the woodsmen were out working. The previous day, one of the woodsmen had been killed by thieves who invaded his camp.
Though the identity of the thieves hadn’t been confirmed, the timing made Abbey fairly certain it was Storm Raiders from Thunderclap who’d somehow managed to evade capture after the battle in Holdgate. Her father Benjamin agreed with her assessment.
So, on her first day back from her first voyage as a stormship sailor, they were hunting fugitives in the woods. Not an ordinary father-daughter bonding activity, perhaps, but Abbey and Benjamin had never been ordinary.
The call of a nightingale split the air, and Abbey froze. That was the signal, so she turned off the trail and headed toward the sound.
She found her father crouched beneath a group of trees. She glided over and settled in beside him.
He put a finger to his lips and nodded toward a small clearing ahead.
A pathetic swath of fabric was propped up by a collection of branches to form a makeshift tent. Three men sat around a fire, roasting a rabbit. Abbey couldn’t hear what the men were saying, but it was clear they weren’t very happy with each other.
Abbey spoke in a soft voice, knowing they were too far away to hear her over the sound of their own arguing. “It’s a wonder they’ve made it this long without discovery.”
Benjamin shook his head at the men’s incompetence. “In these woods, they could have made it much longer if they’d just avoided raiding the woodsmen’s camps.”
Abbey caught sight of an ax leaning against a tree near the men. Stolen from the woodsmen, no doubt. “What do we do now? Report this to the city guards?”
“That’s one possibility.” Benjamin watched the men for a long moment. “On the other hand, I’d hate for them to relocate while we’re away.”
A slow smile slid across Abbey’s face. “We wouldn’t want that to happen. Looking at it that way, leaving to get the city guard would be rather irresponsible.”
Benjamin nodded slowly. Abbey could tell he wanted to do this as badly as she did.
“There are three of them and only two of us,” the blacksmith told her softly.
“Yeah,” Abbey replied. “I almost feel sorry for them.”
She started to stand, but Benjamin put a hand on her shoulder.
“Hold on a moment. Let’s intimidate them first.” Benjamin closed his eyes and moved his hands in a complicated pattern. When he opened them again, his eyes were jet black.
Abbey heard a shout, so she turned toward the thieves’ camp. All three men leapt to their feet, their eyes locked on the fire. The flames were as black as Benjamin’s eyes.
The blacksmith rose to his full height and bellowed at the men. “You are under arrest for theft and treason. Put your hands in the air and wait for our instructions.”
All three men spun toward the voice. They froze when they saw Benjamin, and two of the men started to raise their hands.
The last man—a tall, muscular guy with a shock of red hair and a matching beard—stepped toward the ax leaning against the tree. “No way are they taking me in. You saw what they did to Captain Tor. They’ll do the same to us.”
Abbey sprang into action. She sprinted toward the man, sword in hand.
By the time she reached him, he had grabbed the ax. He hesitated a moment when he saw the young woman charging, but recovered quickly enough to block her sword strike with the head.
The other two men exchanged a glance, then ran at Abbey.
She angled herself toward them, keeping one eye on the first man’s ax as she prepared to defend herself against the other two.
The two running men suddenly recoiled and fell backward, landing on their asses. It was as if they’d run into an invisible wall.
Benjamin stalked toward them with an upraised hand and magic-blackened eyes. The men had tasted a bit of his power, but they didn’t yet know he was just as deadly with his sword. They’d soon learn that fact.
Abbey smiled, knowing her father had those two under control. She returned her eyes to the first man just as he drew back his ax and swung at her head. Abbey could see from the expression on his face that he was putting everything he had into
that swing.
She crouched down and leaned back a little and the ax swung past, missing her face by a good three inches. The man was off-balance now, so Abbey slipped in and drove her knee into the man’s stomach.
The air rushed out of him in a whoosh and he doubled over, then fell to the ground in a heap.
To think, only a few weeks ago these three had been Storm Raiders on Thunderclap. Now they were dirty fugitives struggling to cook a rabbit over an open fire. How the mighty had fallen. Abbey shook her head.
There were shouts as the other members of the search party arrived, drawn by the noise. Some of the city guards bound the men, and they all started the walk back to Holdgate.
When Abbey and Benjamin arrived back at the blacksmith’s shop, they found Syd waiting for them.
“There you are!” Syd exclaimed as they approached. “I need to talk to you. Privately.”
Abbey nodded, her happiness at seeing her friend suddenly replaced with concern. “Yeah, of course. Let’s go inside.”
Syd rubbed her hand over her scalp, looking slightly embarrassed. “Actually, I was talking to Benjamin.”
Benjamin appeared to be as surprised as Abbey was. “Oh, okay. Shall we?”
Abbey watched in confusion as her friend and her father retired for a private discussion.
***
Benjamin led Syd into the shop and stopped near the counter. Then he waited, giving her space to begin.
He had no idea what she could possibly want to discuss with him. If it was business—a new sword perhaps?—then why not discuss it in front of Abbey? And if it was personal… Well, Benjamin couldn’t imagine that. He was fifteen years her senior, for one thing. For another, he was a lowly blacksmith and she was the first mate on the flagship of Holdgate’s fleet. He’d barely exchanged more than a few words with her in his life, not counting the night they’d fought side by side to protect their city from the Storm Raiders.
He did have to concede that they’d made a good team that night, two skilled warriors leading a militia of ill-trained but enthusiastic townspeople. And Benjamin would be lying if he didn’t admit he’d found a certain beauty in the way she fought, the way she moved.
Still…that couldn’t be what this was about, could it?
Syd’s face was unreadable as she stared at him, clearly trying to decide how to begin.
Finally, she said, “Did Abbey tell you about my brother?”
Benjamin shook his head. In truth, Abbey hadn’t told him a whole lot about what had happened on her maiden voyage as stowaway and then impromptu crew member of The Foggy Day. They’d discussed the highlights that had led to the discovery of Tor and Dahlia’s treachery, but things had been happening so quickly ever since that they hadn’t had the chance to do a full debrief. They were focused on what was coming next, and they didn’t have time to dwell on what had come before.
Syd paused a moment before continuing. “My brother served on Thunderclap under Captain Tor many years ago, but he disappeared, and I’ve never been able to get a straight answer about what happened to him. At this point, since so many of Thunderclap’s crew were killed in the fighting, I’m afraid Dahlia may be my last chance to uncover the truth—and Dahlia almost certainly fled north.”
Benjamin waited for her to continue. He had no idea why she was telling him this.
“Even so, the magistrate has asked me to go south, and I’ve agreed.”
That surprised Benjamin. “Abbey said Thunderclap is headed to the Storm Wall.”
Syd nodded. “Thunderclap is. I’m not.”
Benjamin frowned, but he kept waiting. Even from their brief contact, he could tell Syd was the type who needed to work her way around to things.
“It turns out we’re suddenly a bit short of qualified Storm Captains, and our own boneheaded Captain Roy recommended me for a promotion. I’ll be taking over The Foggy Day.”
Benjamin smiled. “Congratulations. If what Abbey’s told me is true, it’s well-deserved, Captain.”
She looked anything but pleased. “As I said, I’d much rather be heading north to find Dahlia, but I’ve agreed to take the position. We’ll be sailing to Algon, transporting a diplomat whose job is to convince them to lend us more support in the fight against the Barskall.”
The blacksmith scratched his beard. It seemed the further they went into the conversation, the further he was from learning why she was discussing it with him at all. “Forgive my bluntness, but why are you telling me this?”
Syd looked him in the eye. “I want to ask you to accompany us on this voyage.”
Benjamin was so surprised, he forgot to respond.
She held up a hand. “Hear me out. I know you’re no sailor.”
That was an understatement. Benjamin had only been on a ship three times, once crossing to the Kaldfell Peninsula on his journey north from Arcadia and twice since then. And he’d gotten violently seasick on each and every voyage, so few things sounded less appealing to him than spending a week at sea.
“But this is about more than just being a good sailor,” Syd continued. “I’m not being allowed to select my own crew since this isn’t a combat mission, which means I’ll be sailing with the castoffs the other Storm Captains donated because they don’t want to deal with them anymore. I need someone who can help me instill a bit of discipline. I don’t mind whipping fresh fish into shape, but I can’t be everywhere at once.”
Benjamin didn’t know how much Abbey had told Syd about his past as a Hunter in Arcadia, but she clearly knew he had some experience training men. “What’s the other reason?”
“Algon may be a part of the Kaldfell Peninsula, but they tend to consider themselves more a part of the south in spirit. From what I hear, the powerful in Algon strive to be like the fancy nobles down in Arcadia.”
Benjamin grimaced at that. He’d had too many dealings with the nobles to have any illusions that they were to be admired. “I’m hardly a noble, Syd.”
“That doesn’t matter. Having an Arcadian with us will bolster our respectability in their eyes. They’ll be dying to pump you for information about what life’s like down there. And, in truth, if something does go wrong, I’d love to have your sword and your magic at my side.”
Benjamin’s first instinct was to refuse. He loved the life he’d built for himself in Holdgate. He enjoyed working with iron, and he took pride in the things he smithed. On the other hand, Holdgate needed help. If he could play a role in making that happen, shouldn’t he consider doing so? Syd herself was putting the search for her brother on hold. If she could sacrifice that much, maybe he could give up a couple weeks for the cause.
“I’m not asking you to join the crew permanently,” Syd finished. “Just this one trip, then you can go back to hammering on iron or whatever the hell you do in here.”
Benjamin smiled. “You make a strong case. Fine. Sign me up, Captain.” He paused. “Just one question: who’s this diplomat we’re transporting?”
Now it was Syd’s turn to smile. “It’s someone who spent a lot of time traveling to Algon establishing trade routes after the Mad Days. I think you know him.”
Benjamin barked out a laugh. “The diplomat’s Jarvi?”
Syd nodded.
“In that case, thank the Bitch and the Bastard I’m coming,” Benjamin said. “You’re going to need all the help you can get.”
CHAPTER THREE
Abbey stood on the wall and gazed at the city. Even from up here she could see evidence of the battle that had taken place. The magistrate’s former office building was now deserted, and a great blackened hole in the roof was evidence of the fire that had almost consumed the building.
Still, it beat looking at the top of the wall. The memories there were even worse. This was where she’d found the slain bodies of the Storm Callers, and where she’d fought their killer. The man had been a better fighter than Abbey, and it had been her magic that had saved her.
She was starting to grow comfortable with using Ar
cadian magic when she needed to. She no longer shunned it as she had when she was a kid, but it still irked her that she hadn’t been able to beat Captain Tor with her sword alone. That knowledge had driven her to redouble her training efforts—she’d been getting up two hours early to practice her forms.
“Most people come up here for the view of the sea, not the city,” a voice behind her remarked.
She recognized the speaker’s voice and kept her eyes on the rooftops below. “I’ll be seeing nothing but water for a long time. Thought I’d take one last look at the land.” She turned and smiled at the man behind her. “I thought you of all people would understand that.”
Dustin raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I understand it. Just didn’t figure you for the sentimental type.”
It was the last night before they were going to depart. In twelve short hours, Thunderclap would be headed for the Storm Wall, and The Foggy Day would be headed south on her diplomatic mission to Algon.
“It’ll be strange sailing without Syd,” Abbey said.
“Sure,” Dustin agreed, “but it was time for her to move on to something bigger. Captain Roy was right about that. How do you think your father will do?”
Abbey laughed. “He’ll be throwing up over the side of the ship the entire voyage, hating every minute of it. But when he gets back, he’ll spend the next five years talking about how it was this exciting adventure.”
“Sounds about right.”
Abbey gazed at the vast sea behind her friend. “So, in all your travels as an apprentice, you never once ventured out to the Storm Wall?”
Dustin shook his head. “Harald had a very strict ‘apprentices don’t get to do anything cool’ policy.” His voice was a strange combination of angry and sad.