Can't Look Back (War for Dominance Book 1)

by Chris Kennedy

  “So you recognize me, do you? No matter, it’s too late for you to do anything about it.”

  “It’s never too late,” Dantes replied. “Why don’t you come on over here, and we can discuss it?”

  “No thanks,” Solim replied. “I have a feeling you might bear me some ill will. I think that I will stay over here with my friends.” He looked at the Dancer. “Tell you what. If you send over the outlander, I won’t bother sinking your vessel. It’s obvious that the ship is in no danger of catching us; I’m surprised that it hasn’t already sunk on its own.”

  “Outlander?” asked Dantes. “What do you mean by outlander? We’re all from Tasidar. The only people from Salidar are on your boat.”

  “You know who I mean,” said Solim. “The person that I framed as the Spectre. I don’t know how he was able to use the mirror, but I know that he followed me through it. I’ve been watching you through a seagull, and I know he is with you. If you send him over now, I won’t destroy your ship. You have five minutes. If he isn’t on this ship by then, we will sink you.”

  “Have you found your brother yet, laddie?” asked Fitzber. “If not, I’m happy to be tellin’ you that he died on my blade.” He smiled. “I’m right here if you’d like to come avenge him.”

  “He was my half-brother,” said Solim, “and I never really liked him much. You have four minutes left.”

  “You wouldn’t sink a ship with women and children on it, would you?” asked Lady Ellyn.

  “If that’s what it takes to get the outlander, then yes, I would,” said Solim. Several of the orcs said something to him. “My friends would be happy to take whatever women and children you’d like to send across. In fact, please feel free to send them all over.” The orcs began laughing. “Two minutes. If he isn’t in the water within the next minute, we will sink your ship.”

  “I’m coming!”

  The companions turned to see John coming out the door from below.

  “If you promise to let them go, I will come with you.”

  Dantes intercepted him on his way to the railing and lifted him off the deck. “No,” he said. “I won’t let you go.”

  “I don’t want all of your deaths on me,” said John. “I’ll go over there, and you can figure out a way to rescue me...somehow. Maybe I can escape. You’ve all been so good; I can’t let you sacrifice yourselves for me.” He lowered his voice. “Besides, the Mathison girls are still down below. They’d be killed, too.”

  All of a sudden, Dantes understood why John had come up on deck. He would have happily sacrificed himself for John, even if that meant fighting the orcs, but he didn’t want the little girls to be killed either. He nodded. “Go then. We will follow you and get you back.” He set John back down on the deck.

  “I know you will,” said John, kicking off his sandals. Flipping one leg over the rail and then the other, he pushed off the railing and fell to the sea below. He hit the water and came up sputtering. The water was cold! He forced himself to keep moving although every fiber of his being wanted to huddle into a ball to retain what little heat it could. Although John had learned to swim when he was younger, he hadn’t done it in a very long time and was forced to dog-paddle his way across to the orc ship while everyone watched. Better a little embarrassment than having the little girls get killed, he thought as he continued to stroke his way over. If only it wasn’t so cold!

  A line came down from above as John reached the side of the orc ship. The rope had knots in it for climbing, as long as the climber had the upper body strength to pull himself up. Cold and out of energy from the swim, John didn’t, so the orcs pulled him up instead.

  “So,” said Solim as John was brought over the railing, “there’s more to you than I thought. I don’t know how you were able to figure out the mirror, but you have been a thorn in my side ever since you got here. No more, though.” He looked at two of the orcs standing nearby. “Grab him. Search him.”

  The orcs’ eyes glazed over. “Yes, highlord,” they intoned, and each grabbed one of John’s arms. Six and a half feet tall and 250 pounds, the orcs were giants compared to John; there was no way he could break free of them. The orcs searched him, but didn’t find anything. They shook their heads.

  “What are you planning on doing with him?” asked Dantes from the other ship. “You know that even killing him won’t stop the Prophecy.”

  “Why would I want to stop the Prophecy?” asked Solim. “I’m counting on the Prophecy.” He started laughing. “Silly people,” he said, when he could talk again, “why is it that you hero-types always think everything is about you?” He said ‘hero’ as if it were some lower form of life. “The Prophecy isn’t about this boy. How could it be? The Prophecy is about me. I came back from another world. I am gathering all of the Items of Power. And I will be the one to end the world as we know it and re-make it in my image. An image where the tall bow down to those who aren’t. Everyone will bow down to me. Even you would have bowed to me...except that you will all be dead and will miss seeing it.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Lady Ellyn. “We gave you the boy liked you asked; you said that you would let us go. Have you no honor?”

  “No,” replied Solim. “I gave up my honor long ago. I’ll make you a deal, though. I know that you still have the spell book that the Magistra gave the outlander. If you give me that, we will be on our way, and you will be free to go.”

  Onboard the Pole Dancer, Ghorza stiffened. “You can’t give that to him,” she whispered. “It’s worth more than even the girls’ lives. You cannot give it to him.”

  “I know,” Dantes whispered back. To Solim he yelled, “We don’t have it. The boy lost it somewhere in the escape from Norlon. It’s probably in the tunnels there if you want to go look for it.”

  “If you don’t have it,” Solim replied, “then there is no longer a reason to keep you alive.”

  “I challenge your captain to a duel,” called Captain Meyer. “Man to orc, with the winner to take both ships.”

  Solim started laughing, followed by all of the orcs that were topside. “Why would he want to do that?” asked Solim. “Have you seen what your ship looks like? Pathetic.” He laughed again. “No, I think there is only one fitting end for that collection of broken timbers you call a ship...and that is to turn it into driftwood.”

  Even across the gap between the ships, the companions could see Solim’s eyes go unfocused.

  “Stand by the crossbows,” said Captain Meyer. Crewmembers edged closer to the weapons leaning against the railing. They didn’t have the range to shoot across to the other ship, but if they were attacked, the crossbows would prove deadly to at least a few of the orcs.

  “You have heard of Scylla and Charybdis, I hope,” said Solim, his voice strangely flat. “Meet Scylla!”

  Chapter 47

  A scream sounded from behind the group, and they spun around to find a creature out of their nightmares rising from the water. Scylla was enormous, with six dragon-like heads on long, serpentine necks. Each of its heads was 10 feet long and could open up wide enough to swallow a gnome sideways. Their mouths had three rows of shark-like teeth, top and bottom, for seizing their prey and cutting it to ribbons. The heads were almost hypnotic as they rose swaying from the water on their 60-feet-long necks. The body remained mostly under the surface, but its underwater shadow was far larger than even the orc ship. A shadow passed in front of the sun as the monster’s tail came up from the water on the other side of the ship. It rose 50 feet into the air and then fell across the ship, crushing two of the crewmen who had the misfortune of being underneath it.

  As everyone turned to see the tail sliding across the deck of the ship, the closest of the heads struck forward to seize one of the crewmen, and it pitched the unlucky sailor headfirst down its gullet in a single bite. The other five heads screamed as they approached the ship, making coordination among the crew impossible. “Empathia Feri!” called Fitzber, casting Wild Empathy on the head that was looking at
him, preparing to strike.

  “I don’t think so,” said the head in Solim’s voice. Fitzber dove out of the way as the head snapped forward, biting down on the empty air where Fitzber had been a split-second before. Fitzber came out of his roll already nocking an arrow to his bow string. In one smooth motion he drew and fired. His jaw fell open as the arrow ricocheted harmlessly from the scales on the monster’s head.

  Within seconds, heads were everywhere, striking at people along the length of the deck, as Scylla’s tail continued to wrap itself around the Dancer. The starboard railing couldn’t take the weight of the monster’s tail and snapped with a loud crack.

  “’Ware the tail!” yelled Captain Meyer. “If we don’t get it off, it will crush the ship!” The sailors dropped the weapons they had been using to fend off the heads and grabbed knives and axes and went to work on the tail. The scales on the beast’s tail were nearly as strong as steel, though, and the sailors’ weapons had very little effect on them. The monster’s heads flashed down, and two more sailors were carried screaming from the deck. One of the heads tossed its sailor down its throat in a single bite; the other one paused, holding the screaming human, and another of the beast’s heads reached in and bit the sailor in half at the waist. Freed of the extra weight, the first head tossed the other half of the sailor up in the air and swallowed it with no problem.

  The companions were not having any better luck fighting the monster than the sailors. “Globus Incendi!” shouted Dantes, as he hurled a fireball into the open mouth of the head that was attacking him. The mouth snapped shut as the fireball burst, but then opened up again to scream in pain. Dantes could see that the fireball had charred portions of the monster’s tongue, but it was otherwise unharmed.

  The head attacking Dantes decided that it didn’t like having hot things thrown into its mouth and went in search of easier prey. It turned and saw Second Mate Rowntree, who was fending off another head with a boathook. Similar to a pike, the boathook was an eight-foot long pole that was used for docking and undocking. Although similar to a pike, it was far less effective as a weapon as its tip was blunt (for pushing away from the dock), and he wasn’t able to penetrate the monster’s scales. He was jabbing ineffectively at another of the monster’s heads when the second head took him from behind, biting him in half as it lifted him off the deck. His legs and torso created a red stain as they fell into the water below.

  “Flagra!” cried Father Telenor, unleashing a flame strike on another of the creature’s heads. The divine flames were more effective against the monster’s slime coating than Dantes’ fireball had been, and the flames burned out the eyes of that head, blinding it. The monster slammed its head down on the deck, breaking several of the planks.

  “Not on my ship!” said Captain Meyer, charging up to it with his cutlass drawn. He stabbed the creature in the eye, causing it new waves of pain. It reared back and then slammed its head back to the deck, hoping to squash the human that had stabbed it. It missed and slammed its head down on the remains of the main mast. Several large splinters of wood protruded from the end of the mast; these knifed through the monster’s throat, up through its mouth and into its brain. The head died, and the ship rocked precariously as its weight pulled the ship down to port.

  The sea monster began squeezing the ship, and the hull groaned as it endured forces it wasn’t meant to withstand. Hearing a little scream, Ghorza turned to see Gary Mathison and his girls come out onto the deck from below. Boards were already being sprung by Scylla’s squeezing, and the family had come up to avoid the water rushing into the hold. The smaller of the two girls, Ghorza couldn’t remember if that was Samantha or Shelby, screamed again at the sight of the giant six-headed monster that was fighting the crew across the length of the ship. One of the heads looked over and, in a flash it struck, picking up the girls’ father. It bit him in half and swallowed both pieces.

  As the head turned back to look at the girls, it found itself cut off from them by Ghorza and Lady Ellyn, who positioned themselves in front of them. “Celeritas!” said Ghorza, casting Haste on the paladin before scooping up the two little girls to pull them out of the way.

  The Scylla head hadn’t fought any of the little shiny ones before, and it circled Lady Ellyn warily, just outside of her sword range. The head moved back and forth, up and down, looking for an easy way to get to its prey without having to go through the pointy thing that the prey was holding in front of it. It paused, turning sideways to Lady Ellyn to inspect her more closely. This gave the paladin the opportunity she had been waiting for. Switching weapons, she used all of her Hasted reflexes to throw her dagger, and it buried itself in the monster’s eye. The head reared back in pain and screamed.

  While it was distracted, Lady Ellyn turned part way around toward Ghorza. “Give me your sword,” she said. Without hesitation, Ghorza pulled out her scimitar and tossed it to Lady Ellyn. The paladin turned to meet the monster, armed with a sword in each hand. Enraged, the monster struck down at Lady Ellyn, intending to eat her whole. As the mouth came down toward her, she jumped back out of its grasp with her Hasted reflexes, and the head snapped shut within inches of her chest. Lady Ellyn stabbed Ghorza’s sword into one of the beast’s nostrils and used it to climb up onto the monster’s head. Before it could react, she drove her sword into one of its ear holes and into its brain, killing it. The monster spasmed, its head rearing back and up, and Lady Ellyn was thrown 100 feet into the air. She splashed down into the water several hundred feet behind the monster.

  Another head took its place in front of Ghorza. She tried to draw her sword, but realized that she had given it to Lady Ellyn. As the head drew back to strike, she realized that she didn’t have any spells that would work on the monster, either. She pulled out her dagger, but it seemed woefully inadequate to the task. Reaching behind her, she found one of the girls. “Move,” she said over her shoulder, while keeping her eyes on the monster. The monster’s head circled, looking for the best angle to get at Ghorza. It decided on one.

  It attacked.

  Chapter 48

  Onboard the orc ship, all of the orcs had moved to the railing to watch the fight, with the exception of the two holding onto John, who had not relaxed their grip or moved at all. The way they held onto John, his arms dangled alongside their weapons, his right hand next to the sword of one of the orcs and his left hand next to the other’s dagger. He smiled. His time below decks hiding from the orc ship hadn’t been wasted.

  He twisted his arms slightly so that he could get a finger on both of the weapons. “Calefacite!” he said under his breath. For a few seconds nothing happened, and he wondered if he had pronounced the spell correctly. Then he saw the handle of the sword start to change color and John knew that he was okay. Within a couple of seconds, both weapons started to hiss as the heat of the metal began to eat into their scabbards. Although the orcs at the ship’s railing couldn’t hear the hissing, the two holding him could, and they looked down to see their weapons glowing. The one on John’s right tried to grab his sword, but immediately dropped it after touching the white-hot metal. Realizing they couldn’t touch the weapons, both of the orcs let go of John so that they could take off their sword belts.

  That was all John needed, and he sprinted toward the rail of the ship. The orc with the hot sword was too busy trying to get rid of it before it could fall on the deck and set the ship on fire, but the other enemy saw where John was heading. “Look out!” it yelled, loud enough to be heard over Scylla’s screams. The orcs along the railing began to turn away from the rail to see what was happening.

  “Spira!” John shouted as he crashed headfirst into the chest of the shaman. Smaller than the rest of the orcs, the shaman wasn’t much bigger than John and was much older and wizened. As they went over the railing, John had a hard time holding onto the orc. The creature wasn’t much more than skin hanging loosely over bones, and he was hard to grab. They hit the water with a splash, and John drew a breath as the cold water rushe
d over him. The shaman was less prepared, and he got water up his nose and began coughing.

  The two wrestled, and the shaman showed that, while old, he still had a wiry strength about him. He was, in fact, stronger than John, and kept fending him off as he tried to clear his lungs. As the shaman’s coughing passed, John knew he had to do something, or he was going to die in some nasty way. Although the shaman pushed him away, John succeeded in wrapping his legs around the shaman’s waist and drew him in.

  The shaman opened his mouth to cast a spell, but John put both of his arms over the shaman’s head, and pushed him under the water. The shaman began struggling as John held him under. John was fine, as he had cast a Water Breathing spell as he went over the rail, and he had no problems breathing. What he hadn’t counted on was how strong the shaman was, nor how hard he punched, even under water. Although John was able to breathe under water, he quickly lost the ability to do so as the shaman threw punch after punch into his chest and stomach, without seeming to wear out. Finally, aiming lower, he punched John in the groin.

  John’s legs opened of their own accord as he doubled up, fighting several waves of nausea which threatened to incapacitate him. Almost out of air, the shaman pushed his way free and began struggling toward the surface. Seeing that the shaman was going to get away, John cast the only spell that came to mind. “Fluxum Geli!” he said, casting the Ice Ray spell.

  Emanating from his hand in a stream, the water froze in a cone toward the shaman and encased his head. The shaman stopped trying to make it to the surface and began clawing at the block of ice that covered his head. Already out of air, the shaman’s struggles soon slowed, and finally ceased. The shaman was dead.

  It suddenly dawned on John that he had just killed someone, and the realization threatened to overwhelm him. He hadn’t meant to kill the orc, he thought...well, that wasn’t entirely true; he had intended to drown him, which would have killed the shaman just as dead...but John hadn’t really thought about the fact that he was going to kill the shaman. John knew that they couldn’t get away while the shaman lived, and he was the only person close enough to do something about it, so he had acted. Mostly without thinking, he had done what needed doing. And he had killed the shaman...who was evil and would have happily killed John and everyone else aboard the Dancer without a qualm. John didn’t have a choice; it was either kill him or have everyone he knew in this world be killed.