As he screamed past, Catrin felt a wash of energy douse her, and she could see the fire racing along a glowing cord attached to Pelivor's spirit. Just before he struck the cloud of darkness, he lit up from within and, flailing wildly, sent gouts of fire and something that looked like boiling air into the darkness before him.
Without another thought, Catrin followed him and, using what energy she could muster, blasted a trail before her. Still, the darkness clawed at her, its grip madness, its odor cloying and sweet. Issuing her own scream filled with horror and fear, Catrin felt the darkness close in behind her. No feeling could compare to being cut off from the light, to lose touch with all that is sane, and to be immersed in chaos. Before her, only the vision of Pelivor gave her something to hold on to, and she tried to get to him.
His screams slashed the air, cutting into Catrin's soul, but she could not reach him. The same darkness surrounding Pelivor and falling on him like a pack of starving dogs on a fresh kill also assaulted her. She barely felt the attacks. Twice, bursts of light drove back the darkness, and Catrin ignored the demonic forces and the voices demanding she come back. The only thing that mattered in that moment was Pelivor. Each pulse of light he sent out gave Catrin a chance to get closer to him, and she felt as if she could stretch out and touch him, yet he was just beyond her spirit's fingertips. Screaming violently with effort, Pelivor reached out to Catrin wildly and savagely, lacking the control of experience. When he and Catrin did connect, there was a flash far brighter than any of those that had come before. In the next instant, Catrin opened her eyes, back in her body.
Standing above her was the most hideous visage she had ever seen. Gray and twisted, the face of the demon spoke of a slow and painful death. A curved blade gleamed in the light, and with a warrior's precision, the demon reversed its blade while raising it for a devastating strike. Something dark slammed into the side of Catrin and the demon. The demon's blade threw sparks into the air as it struck only stone, and Catrin realized it was Kenward who had saved her by tackling the demon.
Trying to regain control of her body after the astral travel, Catrin was dismayed to find that she could barely move. Her arms trembled with fatigue, and a glance to her left showed that Pelivor was not faring much better. The demon, though, was struggling to get Kenward off its back, and Kenward looked small and weak against the massive beast. Reaching over to Pelivor, Catrin grasped his hand in hers. He looked up at her, met her eyes, and nodded, knowing what was to come. The demon was overpowering Kenward, and Catrin released all caution. She drew as deeply as she could on her own energy and what she could get from Pelivor. His eyes went wide, and the air between them sang a high-pitched note before light arced between Catrin and the demon with a crack that sent Kenward stumbling backward. Nimsy arrived a moment later and finished the demon off while it was still stunned.
"Are you hurt?" Catrin asked, not knowing exactly whom she was asking.
Pelivor shook his head but could not or would not speak.
"I'm fine," Nimsy said, but he grew quiet as Kenward straightened suddenly.
"What was I thinking?" Kenward asked. "It would be great to sail with Catrin again!" he continued, mocking himself. "Nothing bad ever happens when Catrin's aboard."
For a moment the comment stung, but Catrin remained silent, letting her old friend vent his anger and frustration. When she looked up and saw two jagged holes in his deck and down to see a dead demon in the bilge, it occurred to her that he was probably right.
"We'll just cut a hole in the deck! How could I ever have gone along with that, I ask you? And now look. Two holes in my deck! And you darn near took Pelivor with you! And why is it that as soon as you two trip off to play in the skies, we get attacked by demons straight from the depths?"
"Black sails on the horizon, sir!" came a shout from above. Catrin recognized Farsy's voice, and he sounded shaken. "An' that black cloud is back on the horizon. 'Cept it's bigger. And the wind has died."
Kenward stood with his arms out to his sides and his mouth wide open, but no sound came out. Turning to Catrin and Pelivor, he raised his palms. "Can you make her fly?" The look in his eyes made it clear that he really hadn't wanted to ask the question.
"I don't know," Catrin said.
"By the gods, does it always hurt this much?" Pelivor asked, his hands over his ears.
"Should I take that as a no?" Kenward asked.
"I can try," Pelivor said and Catrin nodded.
Kenward softened then and blushed. "Are you certain? Nimsy, Farsy! Help these two up on deck."
He hadn't really waited for Catrin to answer, but she just clamped her jaw and got ready to climb to the deck. Unsteady on her feet and feeling only loosely attached to her body, she was grateful for Nimsy's help. Pelivor's head lolled from side to side, and Catrin doubted he was up to the task; he looked barely conscious.
As the sun melted into the sea, the largest and brightest comets showed themselves in a wash of color that ranged from gold to deep violet. It was strikingly beautiful, and that alone brought Catrin hope and refreshment.
"Where are we going?" Kenward asked.
Taking a deep breath, Catrin stood on trembling legs. She'd seen the darkness laying siege to the Godfist, and she knew that the odds of any of them surviving were terrifyingly slim. Then she felt a comforting presence and heard the crew shout out. She saw Kyrien circling low over the ship.
Everything before her faded away, and Kyrien sent her a vision of darkness and loss that made her soul tremble. Then he flashed a vision of Catrin and Kyrien standing as the last defense of man and dragon alike. The vision replayed, and each time they made different choices. Over and over again the vision played in her mind, but every time one or both species were lost. For one waited a hollow victory; for the other, extinction. Catrin reeled at the implications and tried to control her reaction to the horror they faced. This decision-her decision-would affect all that happened from here on out, and she could only hope that she chose wisely.
Despite the visions, Catrin was determined to save them all or die trying. "We go to the Firstland."
"I knew it," she heard Kenward say, and she received a rather shocked look from Pelivor, who was slowly recovering.
"Let's see if we can get this ship into the air," Kenward said.
Pelivor smiled then winced. "I'll give it my best."
Catrin remained by his side as they tried to get the ship out of the water, but the still air made it impossible.
"You're going to have to propel us," Pelivor said.
"Are you sure you'll be able to get us out of the water?" Catrin asked.
"Are you sure you can propel us?" Pelivor asked Catrin.
"Not really," she admitted.
"Then we're even."
Walking to the back of the ship under her own power was an accomplishment, but it seemed insignificant in comparison to what she was about to attempt. Standing beside the massive, wooden tube that was bolted to the deck of the Slippery Eel, Catrin knew that getting the boat moving would be her greatest challenge. Forcing air into the tube had been relatively easy with air already rushing toward them, but grabbing still air and forcing it through was a great deal more difficult. Progress was painfully slow, and Pelivor offered to come back and help her get them started, but Catrin did not want him to exhaust himself by helping her. He would be responsible for keeping them airborne, a task they could not afford to have unfulfilled. Catrin waved him off and applied her will, feeling as if her head might split into two. At first the wooden tube emitted a low moan, and the ship sank lower in the water, but the ship did move forward, albeit in painfully slow fashion; still every bit of speed forced more air into the tube and helped drive them faster.
"Ships approaching from all sides, sir!"
An instant later, Kyrien turned, rolled, and dived into the waves off their port side. Hushed cries from the crew pulled at Catrin's senses.
Kenward's every attention centered on Catrin. "You can do it," he whi
spered.
Nimsy had remained by Catrin's side, and she leaned on him for support, knowing her task was impossible. Even with her greatest effort, the ship had not gained enough speed to sustain the reaction, instead requiring more and more energy from her. An instant before she released the energy flow, the ship thrummed and surged forward, as if they had been struck from the stern. And in fact, they had. Kyrien proved his swimming prowess by driving the ship forward. His serpentine body and tail propelled him through the water, showing the efficiency of his form. With no time to revel in the marvels of dragons, Catrin redoubled her efforts, and the air came to her more easily, partly because of Kyrien's efforts and partly because the winds had picked up.
"Did you see that?" came a shout from on deck, and Catrin risked losing her concentration to look around. Black ships approached from every direction, dark clouds following those from the west. Lightning danced in the charged air amid the rigging of the dark ships. Catrin felt more than saw the presence of someone using Istra's powers. She could smell the discharge in the air, and she felt the hairs on her neck rise. Again she regained her focus and applied as much energy as she could to increasing their speed.
Pelivor gave no warning, and Catrin heard men hitting the deck as the ship suddenly left the water at a steep angle and just as suddenly slowed when it struck the next wave. Three more times they skipped across the waves, and the crew barely held on. After the third, Pelivor gave out a roar, and the ship gained the air, catching the growing tailwind.
Catrin worked to shape the air as it entered the tube, and in doing so realized that the design was flawed. If she could change the shape of the inner chamber, it would be far more efficient, but she had no time for that. As the ship's speed picked up, so did their altitude, and she could only hope that Pelivor did not drop them from the sky.
Catrin returned her attention to the approaching ships, which were now far too close. The Slippery Eel was airborne but was by no means high enough to clear the approaching ships with their spiring masts and inky black sails. Once again they would need to rely on speed and agility. With Catrin and Pelivor not at their best, she wasn't sure how nimble their movements would be, so she kept her focus on speed. The adverse side effect was that the ships ahead drew closer at an alarming rate. A moment later Catrin's heart fell into her stomach as the ships before them crested a large wave. Racing down the trailing edge of the wave, each left the water at the exact same moment. Lightning flared and created a web between the three flying ships.
Pelivor turned and looked back to Catrin, and the ship dropped sharply. Pelivor never got to see the panicked expression on Catrin's face, as he needed every ounce of concentration to get more altitude. A cold feeling washed over Catrin as the realization sank in: all their advantages were gone, and they no longer had any way to defend themselves from the darkness that approached. Perhaps they could take out one or two of the ships if they had enough speed. She looked over to Kenward, who seemed to have come to the same conclusions. He just nodded to her and gave the order. "Arm yourselves and prepare for ramming speed!"
Chapter 15
Our greatest limitations are often self-imposed.
— Dirk Burunda, mountain climber
Durin had known Prios his entire life and knew he was a nice man with Durin's best interest at heart, but he couldn't stop the fear from stirring in his belly. A tongueless man with such power was in itself somehow frightening, but it was the need in Prios's battle-weary eyes that terrified Durin. It made him accept that his actions may have resulted in Sinjin's death. That thought haunted him, and he wanted nothing more than to believe that this tunnel would lead him to Sinjin, Brother Vaughn, and even Trinda, but so far this new section of Dragonhold had proven to be little more than empty rooms and halls. The deep rumbles that came from the heart of the mountain had been the most interesting part of their journey thus far, that was, until Prios had arrived.
Durin and Strom had been walking at a brisk pace while they explored the halls, but some three hours into the journey, Durin had turned around to find Prios stalking him. His shriek had given Strom a start, but then they had seen the look in Prios's eyes. He needed to know if this was the way to where Sinjin was. No words were required. And of those who had come with Prios, none spoke. When Durin spotted Kendra and Khenna, he looked away, still troubled by their presence. Prios, though, had pushed them on, his herald globe brightly charged and shining the way.
Since then, they had been searching through an area that must have once held more people than currently lived on the Godfist. Durin found it depressing. Why would anyone choose to live in darkness, in a place of cold stone that seemed to suck the joy from the air? At least that was how it felt to Durin. Perhaps it was only the product of his current mood, but the tense silence seemed to indicate that the others felt the same. The inherent sense of order in the place also bothered Durin. Here rested an abandoned city, yet the halls were clear, and not a bit of refuse could be found. The chambers they did explore were bare as well, adding to the mystery. It was as if the city had been built as a precaution and had never actually been occupied.
Rumbling echoes continued to break the silence at seemingly random intervals, and each time Prios listened intently. It seemed impossible to tell where the sounds were actually coming from, but Prios continued to lead them with what appeared to be confidence. Strom walked by his side, not questioning Prios's judgment. More meticulously carved entranceways lined rough-hewn corridors, but it came as a shock when they reached an imposing hall, the corridor turning left and right around the perimeter of the hall, and the most elaborate entrance yet stood directly before them, ready to welcome them or devour them-Durin couldn't tell which. Mighty creatures, from dragons to giant cats, had been carved around the entranceway, and their beauty was eclipsed by only the fear they generated. Prios gave them but a single glance. Only Strom's sideways look and his subsequent checks over his shoulder made Durin feel any better.
Every footfall sent echoes cascading through the halls, and Durin knew that if there was anything alive in this place, it surely knew they were there. The place must have been designed to carry sound from the dais to the audience, and it did its job well. Prios's sharp hiss reverberated throughout the hall, and Durin fought the urge to hide.
Before them lay the remains of what had once been a finely dressed man. His clothing had been almost perfectly preserved, though his body was a desiccated hull that somehow still clung to his bones. Most shocking was the simple dagger wedged between two ribs and leaving no doubt that this man, whomever he was, had been murdered. The thought made Durin look over his shoulder, though it was obvious this crime had taken place in the distant past. After listening intently to the faraway thumps and rumbles, Prios led them from the amphitheater, and Durin couldn't help looking over his shoulder, wondering if the murderer were lurking in the shadows.
The sound of creaking timbers and a low buzz filled the air as the dark ships encroached. Catrin turned to Kenward. "Do you remember the drills we ran when we were lost trying to find the Firstland?"
"We weren't exactly lost; we just didn't know how to get where we were going," Kenward said, but he stumbled when he saw Catrin's exasperated look. "Yes, I remember."
"Can we do something like we did that time you turned to the side at the last moment?"
"I don't know that it would work," Kenward said. "Much of that technique relied on the water, and empty air would not provide the same effect. That would just put our weakest side forward."
"What do you plan to do, then?"
"We'll slip between two ships, turn, and ram one of them in the belly."
"Slip between the ships that have lightning flowing between them?" Pelivor asked, his voice high pitched and strained.
"I didn't say it was a perfect plan. What do you suggest?"
"I suggest we try to gain more altitude. That's the only thing that will give us room to move."
Catrin swallowed hard, knowing she'd a
lready given her best effort, and she assumed that Pelivor had as well. This last effort might be in vain, but she had to try. Working at the wooden tube, turbulent air fought her, demanding its freedom and refusing to do her bidding. Still, she managed to gain a bit more speed, and Pelivor, his outstretched hands crawling with energy, lifted the ship higher. The dark ships stayed just above the water, and from the Eel's current height, they would slam into the masts and rigging of the approaching ships. Pelivor cried out as his arms trembled, and the veins stood out on his neck as he tried, without success, to get them high enough to clear the other ships.
"Get ready to board the ship to port!" Kenward shouted, and Catrin nearly lost her concentration. She could not bear the thought of the Slippery Eel's crew going to their deaths. She could see the demons on the other ships now and with them, men. Dressed in black armor and looking as if they bathed in ashes, men worked alongside demons. It was a terrifying sight. Some wore the mark of the hammer, which was Thorakis's sigil, but Catrin could still not figure out why Thorakis would do such things and align himself with evil. It made no sense.
"One more try," Pelivor shouted as the ships moved close enough for lightning to reach out to the Slippery Eel's rigging. Catrin let out a cry of her own as she reached for the comets, begging for the energy she needed, pleading with the goddess for more power. If only she'd had Koe or her staff, but she had none of that. All she would wield would be the sword Strom had made for her against his own will. It was a beautiful blade with a magic of its own, but Catrin was uncertain how much use that magic would be under these circumstances. Nonetheless, the feeling of the pommel in her hand steadied her, and she held the blade high.
Just as impact was imminent, the hull thrummed, and the ship lurched upward. Knees bent, Catrin absorbed the upward thrust and did her best to take advantage of the gained height. Pelivor shouted with what sounded like a mixture of terror and relief as they soared above the towering masts.
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