by PT Hylton
Clemens talked next. “So the question is, do we stray from our original mission of figuring out how so many Barskall are getting through the Storm Wall in order to hunt Dahlia?”
“Those two missions might be one and the same,” Dustin said. “Dahlia could be behind this whole thing.”
“Perhaps,” Liv allowed. The room was quiet for a moment. “Some of the soldiers here at the Storm Wall cycle in and out. People spend a year or so here, then decide they want to go back home. But some of us are lifers, and each has his or her own reason for staying here on the Farrows.”
Abbey looked at the older woman. “What’s yours?”
Liv stared into the hearth, her eyes distant. “I was in Holdgate when the man came and taught our people storm magic. Most of them were intrigued by what he could do. I was more intrigued by the way he talked about the world. It inspired me, and I spent the next few years traveling. I journeyed the length of the Kaldfell Peninsula, and even spent some time with the paladins on the Lost Isles. Then I came here, and I’ve never left.”
“Why?” Abbey didn’t want to prod too much, but she was curious.
“The sense of history, mostly. These islands are so isolated from the rest of the world. They were affected by the Mad Days just like everywhere else, but it seemed like more was preserved here, somehow. More from before. After seeing all the craziness in the other places I’d visited, it felt nice to be in a place with a sense of the past. I’ve learned so much since I came here, things long forgotten in Kaldfell.”
Clemens leaned forward. “But this isn’t about the past. It’s about the future.”
Abbey opened her mouth to disagree, but Liv caught her eye and gave her head the slightest of shakes. The older woman mouthed the word later. Abbey forced herself to keep quiet, though she badly wanted to know about the things Liv had learned.
Captain Roy spoke up. “From my perspective, there’s no choice to be made. We have to find out what we can about Dahlia, and for that we must go to Barskall.”
Liv leaned forward and rubbed her chin in thought. “I agree. The question is, how do we go about it? From my perspective, Thunderclap’s exactly the wrong ship for the job.”
Dustin sat up a bit straighter, his face expressing annoyance. Though he’d only been the Storm Caller on Thunderclap a few weeks, Abbey knew he took great pride in the ship. “Hold on, are you saying Thunderclap can’t handle it?”
The older woman smiled. “Can it handle the entire Barskall army? No, and it’s too big to have a chance of sneaking in there undetected. Your best bet is to send in a small team to investigate the situation.”
Clemens clearly disagreed. “No offense, ma’am, but I think that would be a mistake. We need to go in there full-force and show them we mean business. If we attacked with all the stormships here on the Farrows, we could do some real damage.”
“Oh?” Liv asked with mock surprise. “And where exactly should we attack? Barskall’s a big island. It’s ten days across by horseback, and they are very secretive. I have no idea where King Elias even lives, so I’m glad to hear your knowledge is so much more extensive.”
Clemens’ face reddened. “I didn’t mean—”
“Perhaps I’ll get my map of Barskall, and you can show us the king’s secret headquarters,” Liv offered sweetly.
Clemens didn’t respond.
“No?” Liv asked. “Okay, then. Might I suggest that you shut the hell up and let the people who know what they’re talking about speak?”
Captain Roy let out a hearty laugh. “Now you know why I was such a well-behaved child. I was afraid to face her wrath.” His face took on a more serious expression. “She’s right, though. We need to go in with a small team. Mother, do you have a smaller ship that can get them close?”
Liv nodded. “The Cracked Stone can take them to within a few miles of shore, but then they’ll have to take a small ship’s boat the rest of the way.”
“Understood,” Roy turned to Dustin. “I think you should go with them. Your skills could prove useful.”
Dustin nodded, but Liv raised an eyebrow.
“A Storm Caller on a mission inland?” she asked. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“He’s proven himself more than capable.”
“I’d like to take Abbey along,” Dustin requested.
Roy nodded like he’d been expecting that.
“I’d like to go too,” Clemens said.
Roy thought about that a moment before responding. “Fine, but I’m putting Abbey in charge.”
“Hold on…I’m the first mate!”
Roy shot him a glare that looked eerily like the one his mother had used only moment before. “You’re the first mate because you know how to run a ship, but you’re unproven in land battles. Abbey’s done this sort of thing before, and I trust her to run the show. Are you man enough to handle that, or do I need to have my mother send you to your room?”
Clemens met Roy’s gaze. “Fine. She’s in charge.”
“Good!” Roy clapped his hands together, now that the matter was settled. “I’ll leave you three to select the rest of the team. Two or three more should round it out.”
“Don’t forget about Fannar,” Abbey reminded him. “This whole plan revolves around him.”
“Yes.” Captain Roy looked at his mother. “The Cracked Stone can take them tomorrow? Evening, perhaps?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Liv agreed. “Which reminds me, you’re all invited to attend the Hatching tomorrow.”
A wide smile broke out on Roy’s face. “That’s tomorrow?”
“What the hell’s the Hatching?” Dustin asked.
“It’s a coming-of-age ritual of sorts,” Roy explained. “You don’t want to miss it.”
Abbey shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
Liv looked at her son. “Think any of your crew would be up for acting as the shell?”
“The shell?” Abbey asked.
Roy ignored Abbey. He chuckled and told his mother, “I think I know just the guy.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Syd walked the deck of The Foggy Day, watching the sun set over the city. Even though they were docked at Algon, she’d ordered the crew to sleep aboard the ship. There were still too many questions about how the people of Algon and the city council felt about their stormship. The crew grumbled a little, but they already respected her enough not to do it to her face.
She didn’t mind. She probably would have grumbled too if Captain Roy had given such an order. Now that she was captain, she understood there were more important things to worry about than making sure the crew was always happy. She silently promised herself she’d let them have a night of drinking, cards, and whatever other unsavory nonsense they wanted to get up to soon—after she understood the true intentions of the city council.
Her Storm Caller Niklas stood at the prow, squinting down at his young apprentice Monika. She had the base of her short staff submerged in the seawater cup at the prow, and her eyes glowed a dim bluish-green.
“You have to draw the power into yourself!” Niklas ordered curtly. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s a fight. Coax it, make the sea think you’re its friend, and when it starts to trust you, grab the power and ring its damned neck! Now try again.”
“Yes, sir,” the girl replied. Her eyes glowed a bit brighter and a light misty rain began to fall, wetting Syd’s face.
“Pathetic!” Niklas cried. “You call this rain? This wouldn’t wash the bird shit off the poop deck! You’re twelve years old! When are you going to apply yourself?”
“Sorry, sir.” It was clear from the girl’s voice that she wasn’t bothered in the least by this treatment.
She was probably used to it.
“That’s enough for tonight,” Niklas declared. “Help me find that damned first mate. Wasn’t he supposed to have dinner sent to us an hour ago?”
The girl took the nearly blind Storm Caller by the hand and guided him to the ladder that led below
-decks.
When they were gone, a voice spoke behind Syd.
“Sad, isn’t it?” the man remarked. “If you want to learn storm magic, you have to endure years of verbal abuse from some crotchety old Storm Caller.”
Syd turned to see Benjamin standing there. “Perhaps, but that’s always been the way of it.”
Benjamin smiled. “Just because it always has doesn’t mean it always will be.”
Syd looked at him a bit more closely. He seemed oddly contemplative. “You’re considering the city council’s offer, aren’t you? To help them start the school.”
He shrugged. “Of course. I’d be a fool not to give the matter some thought.”
Syd nudged him playfully with her elbow. “Is that really what you want? To be a teacher? Spending your days in some stuffy classroom showing young people how to conjure fireballs or whatever?”
“Honestly? It doesn’t sound that bad.”
“Maybe you’ll be the type who will ask the female students to meet you in your office after class for a private discussion.”
Benjamin laughed. “You sound like you have experience with those types.”
“My first Storm Captain wasn’t as respectful as Roy.” She touched the hilt of one of her swords. “He had to retire early. Had an accident.”
“How unfortunate.” Benjamin’s tone grew more serious. “Ever since I left Arcadia, I’ve believed magic should be taught freely to anyone who wants to learn. And students should be allowed to explore their strengths, and not be forced into a program of learning designed by a power-tripping Storm Caller or a nefarious chancellor. If Algon is really going to build a school like that, I think I want to be a part of it.” He squinted at Syd. “Hey, are you even listening to me?”
In truth, she wasn’t. Something on the starboard side of the main deck had caught her eye. She nodded toward it, and Benjamin followed her gaze.
She drew her twin swords. “You got a weapon?”
Benjamin’s eyes went black. “Don’t need one.” A dagger of ice appeared in his hand.
A loud whistle suddenly sounded, and a dozen men dressed in black appeared. Some vaulted over the rail and others sprang from the shadows where they’d been hiding. One dropped from above, having apparently concealed himself in the crow’s nest. All of them rushed toward Syd and Benjamin.
The first one fell before he even reached her, Benjamin’s icy dagger sticking through his chest. The second was unlucky enough to reach his target, only to be met by the whirlwind of Syd’s twin swords slicing and hacking at him. He fell to the deck, still alive but one hand poorer.
By that time other crew members had begun to figure out what was going on and were drawing their weapons.
Benjamin spurred them onward. “Protect the captain! They’re going after her!”
A half-circle of sailors formed around her, facing out to protect her from any assault. As much as she appreciated the gesture, it wasn’t really her style to lead from the rear. She shoved her way between two men and stepped in front of them.
“If they want me, they’re welcome to try.” She brandished her swords.
Another man in black ran toward them, and Syd prepared to defend herself. But at the last moment, the man turned and headed toward the left edge of the circle of men. Toward Benjamin.
The blacksmith held out his hand, and the sword of one of the fallen attackers flew into it. He spun as he caught it, and plunged it into the chest of the man charging him. The man dropped.
Within a few minutes, The Foggy Day’s crew had dispatched the rest of the attackers.
Syd turned to them. “Search the ship from bow to stern. Make sure there aren’t any more of these bastards hiding aboard.”
One of the attackers was still alive, moaning on the deck. From the weakening sounds of his cries and the amount of blood around him, he wouldn’t last much longer. Syd grabbed a torch and held it close to the man’s face.
“He’s not a Barskall,” she told them after inspecting his eyes. “Or at least, he’s not drunk on seiderdrek. His eyes are clear, and he’s definitely feeling pain.”
Benjamin crouched next to her. “He’s dressed like an Arcadian.”
“Like half this damn city.” Syd grabbed the man by the shirt. “Who sent you?”
The man didn’t answer, and it was clear he was fading fast.
She turned to Benjamin. “See if any of the others are alive.”
A quick search of the deck revealed that none of the attackers had survived the crew’s swords. The man Syd had grabbed soon joined his fellows.
“It was me,” Benjamin said. “They were after me.”
Syd agreed. “So, Blacksmith, who wants you dead? And why?”
***
Olaf let out a big yawn and picked up the wooden staff Captain Roy had given him. “So, I just have to fight off a few twelve-year-olds? You got me up before dawn for this?”
Captain Roy smiled. “It’s called the Hatching. It’s one of the rites of initiation for young people on the Farrows. It signifies they’re ready to begin their formal training to take on the Barskall. They need to show they’re able to fight strategically and smartly against a more powerful opponent.”
“Powerful, huh?” Olaf gave the staff a quick swing. “Well, you picked the right person, then. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt them too much.”
Abbey looked at Dustin and rolled her eyes. She observed the conversation with her hands on her hips. According to Captain Roy, the opponent—or shell— was always an outsider, a stormship sailor who hadn’t been on the islands for long. That ensured it wouldn’t be anyone the initiates knew.
Olaf swung the staff again, and it whistled through the air. “How will I know when the ceremony’s over?”
“My mother will call it,” Roy replied, “or you can give up at any point.”
Olaf chuckled. “Seems doubtful.”
Roy turned to Dustin and Abbey. “Why don’t the two of you find a seat? I’ll escort Olaf onto the field.”
Abbey and Dustin wished Olaf the sea’s luck in the ceremony, then headed to join the spectators already gathered on the hillside. The Hatching would take place on an open field at the bottom of the hill.
“Pretty weird ceremony, if you ask me,” Dustin said as they found a place near the front of the crowd.
Abbey smiled. “Says the guy who had to stand on a rock and calm a storm.”
Dustin grimaced. “Don’t remind me.”
Roy had told them the Hatching would begin at dawn, and the first light of morning was just beginning to peek over the eastern hills.
Liv stepped onto the field, followed by Olaf, Captain Roy, and three twelve-year-old kids. It was clear the two girls were twins; from this distance, they looked identical. The third combatant was a boy.
All three children carried thin wooden staffs, just like Olaf’s.
A cheer went up from the crowd as the group took the field.
Liv held up a hand for silence, then introduced the participants. She thanked Captain Roy for offering up one of his sailors as the shell, and introduced Olaf.
“What’s all this talk about the shell?” Dustin whispered to Abbey.
Abbey thought about that for a moment, then smiled, finally understanding. “To hatch, a bird has to break the shell.”
Dustin let out a sharp laugh. “Think Olaf has any idea what he’s in for?”
Abbey shook her head. “Self-reflection isn’t Olaf’s strong suit.”
Liv signaled for the participants to begin as she and Roy left the field. The Thunderclap’s captain slipped in next to Dustin and Abbey.
The three kids turned to face Olaf, who held his staff casually.
“All right, which one of you wants to be first?” Olaf asked. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”
In response, the boy charged Olaf, his staff a blur of motion. Olaf managed to get his own up just in time to block the kid’s attack.
“Not bad, kid,” Olaf said with a grun
t as he blocked the kid’s next blow. “You’re good for your age. If you weren’t fighting a master warrior, you might stand a chance. Unfortunately for you, I’m— Whoa!”
The kid swung at his head, and Olaf barely managed to block.
Olaf was so focused on the boy that he didn’t notice the girls flanking him on either side. They crept in at an angle just outside the range of his peripheral vision.
“Look at how they work together,” Abbey exclaimed, impressed.
Roy chuckled in agreement. “That’s how they’re brought up here on the Farrows. Those three have been training together for the past five years, and every bit of that training was about how to work as a team.”
The girls moved in, one from each side. By the time Olaf noticed them, it was too late; they were already swinging their staffs to hit him on the back of his thighs.
Olaf let out a surprised shout of pain and spun toward the attackers. That made him vulnerable from the other side, and the boy wasted no time in taking advantage of the situation hitting him in the arm.
“Ah, this brings back memories.” Captain Roy said wistfully.
Abbey turned to him. “You went through the Hatching? How’d yours go?”
Roy nodded toward the field. “A lot like this, actually.”
Olaf backed up to try and find a defensible position, but the three kids had him surrounded. It was clear from the look on his face he was beginning to realize his dire situation. “Okay, I have to admit, I’m impressed. I didn’t think—”
He attacked mid-sentence, trying to catch his opponents off-guard. He lunged at one of the girls, but the other two kids struck fast. The boy swung at Olaf’s shins at the same time the other girl hit him in the back. Olaf’s momentum carried him forward, and he toppled onto his face.
The kids all stepped back, allowing their opponent to get to his feet.
Olaf did so, but from the look on his face, it was clear he was none too excited to get back into the fight.
A few minutes later after Olaf had been taken down by his young opponents two more times, Liv declared the Hatching complete and the children victorious. The crowd cheered. Liv thanked Olaf for his spirited performance, and the crowd cheered again. Olaf waved to the crowd, looking bemused and perplexed by what had just happened.