by Kady Cross
“You mock the king?”
“What she’s implying, you buffoon,” Katara said as she stood, pulling five amulets from the largest pocket inside her leather vest, “Is that we don’t recognize his self-appointed authority.”
Arcadia saluted Katara with her sword, a weapon forged from the same mage metal as her armor. “It’s been an honor, Captain.”
“We aren’t dead yet. They’ll come when called.”
“Until then,” she said.
“Until then,” Katara replied, knowing Arcadia meant until they were assisted or met again in the afterlife her warrior champard believed in. Then, with a wink at the guard, Katara threw the larger amulet high into the air, where it exploded, a multi-colored flare.
“Take them!” shouted the leader of the guard.
A battle cry ripped from Arcadia as she leapt from the stage. Landing, she swung her blade and the leader’s head flew into the guards behind him. The men and women praying on the risers leapt to their feet and sped for the west exit, some of them screaming.
Katara threw three Elemental Blast amulets, one after the other, over Arcadia’s head into the larger group of palace guards. Explosions erupted like grenades, throwing guards, weapons, and earth in all directions, leaving only a quarter of the men still standing. Arcadia killed two more as Katara spun and tossed the last amulet at the sentries advancing from the east. The blast dropped five of them, the rest taking cover, while three guards from the west got past Arcadia and dashed for the stage.
Katara flipped the snaps on her wide leather belt, sliding two, seven-inch, mage metal dirks from their home, lying horizontal against her low back. Arms outstretched, she said, “I’ll be right back, Miku. Don’t go anywhere.”
Dirks spinning, slicing, Katara took out one attacker and then another. Her blades whirled, dancing to a song of love and loss, yet filled with the discovery of life-purpose. These men had never fought a mage, especially one who’d trained for this day for the past eight years. They were many against one, yet they were outnumbered.
Katara slashed a soldier’s arm to the bone as the blade of a different man slipped past her guard, piercing her above the belt. Crying out, she whipped her blade past him so fast, he was still smiling as his head fell from his body. Turning away from the arterial spray, Katara winced in pain as her stomach wound bled, darkening her green tunic.
Hearing a shout, Katara spun to see a huge man. With a head-butt, the man broke her nose, sending her flying backwards, where she landed on her rear. “Nod da nose, again, damn id!”
He swung his sword down, a killing strike. She dove between his legs, flipped over, and kicked both steel-toed boots into his groin. The guard toppled. Katara dropped a dirk to yank a dagger from a thigh sheath and rammed it through his ear into his brain.
When no one else attacked immediately, Katara gathered her weapons, sheathed and secured them, then grabbed her nose and set it with a crunch.
Wiping away tears, she glanced toward Arcadia and saw beyond her that a number of the previously praying Muslims had stopped short of the western exit and had, with swords in hand, attacked the guards from behind. Standing up to join them, a sharp pain shot through Katara’s abdomen, and she doubled over.
Gunfire filled the air and Katara reached for her pistol as the sentries at the east entrance fell. Katara’s crew sped into the fort, trapping the remaining palace guards between the two forces until they were overcome and surrendered.
Arcadia, face aglow with the glory of battle, leaped back onto the stage. “Time to go, Captain.”
Focusing energy from a Healing amulet to her nose and abdomen, Katara winced as she rose. “But who are all these people?”
A woman in a niqâb came forward. One look into her lavender-blue eyes, and Katara knew her. “Jassima, I don’t understand,” Katara whispered.
“You never ask anything for yourself from the network you built and use to save our daughters from slavery. When you told me of your need, I reached out. They answered the call.”
“And the swords, you had those stashed up your…” Katara asked with a wink.
Jassima laughed. “Under our mats. We were just waiting for you.”
“Captain?” Arcadia warned.
Katara hugged Jassima. “Thank you.” Letting go of her, she added, “Tell them if they ever need anything, it’s theirs. I owe them more than my life.”
“You owe us nothing.”
“Captain?” Arcadia demanded.
Katara ignored Arcadia a moment longer, placing a kiss on Jassima’s cheek. “Bahut hî úukriyâ.”
“Captain!”
“Yes, I hear you, Arcadia. We shall—” Turning, Katara found Miku standing. Their eyes locked.
Miku placed her palm on Katara’s niqâb, against her cheek. “I know these eyes . . .”
Then it happened, like rain after a drought, Miku’s mind touched Katara’s, saying, “Chopra, you came for me.”
Katara nodded, tears falling freely. “Better together, always and forever.”
Miku threw her arms around Katara, who squeezed her back as an alarm sounded in the harbor.
“Captain, we—”
“I know.” Katara let go of Miku, “Leave the niqâb on for now; safer that way.” Taking Miku’s hand, she nodded at Jassima, gathered her satchel and abaya, and sped for the east exit, adding mentally, “I need you to refer to me as Katara.”
“Why?” Miku asked.
“Because I am her—the current one, that is. The four previous Kataras are retired, including Indira, the one who captured us and trained me. She’s now in Israel with Liran at the Dead Sea. It’s a long story. I’ll explain it all once we’re safely away.”
Katara and Miku followed Arcadia, the crew behind them, down the stone steps to the docked ship. Black sails barely moving, the wooden body of the new Persephone gleamed in the rays of the setting sun, the all of her pulsing with creation energy.
Miku stopped as the gangplank lowered, her mage sight showing her the power that Persephone exuded. “This is not the same boat I remember.”
Katara motioned her away-team to board. Quickly, they filed up the plank as Katara stayed put and explained. “No, Indira renamed that one and took it with her. This is a powerful replica built to my specifications ‘under the hood,’ so to speak. Metal now runs throughout Persephone’s hull, reinforcing her. In her belly, there’s even more as my power sink.”
“Holy dragon bones! That’s why she shimmers.”
“Everyone is aboard, Captain!” Arcadia said.
A bullet zipped through the air, grazing Katara’s jaw. “Spawn balls!” she cried out, drawing a gun and firing back. She dropped one attacker where he stood, but more shots rained down on them from the city wall, prompting her crew to return fire from behind the gunwales.
“Go up! Now!” Katara ordered.
Once Miku and Arcadia were safely aboard, Katara set a few spelled coins on the edge of the dock, between the approaching guards and her ship. Activating the conjure within them, she ran up gangplank as it rose, nestling into place with a thump. “Hold your fire and cast off!” she ordered. Yanking the niqâb off, she added, “Miku, go to my cabin. You’ll be safer. I’m not sure how long the amulets to block bullets will last.”
Gamon rappelled down from a spar, landing on the main deck. “We’re clear, Captain. But we’re dead in the water without a decent breeze.”
“I can help,” Miku said in Katara’s mind, removing her niqâb as well.
Katara ignored her. “Good work, Gamon. Show Miku to the safe room, then meet me up at the helm.”
“Yes, Captain.” Gamon replied over the noise of the guard’s gunfire, motioning Miku forward.
Miku didn’t budge. Crossing her arms, she stared at Katara. “Better together, remember?”
Katara turned to Miku. “Don’t start.” Mentally adding, “You’ll out yourself as a mage to everyone and—”
“I was wrong before. We can’t live in fear.
”
Katara groaned, rubbing her face as the light breeze only inched them away from the dock. “How strong are you?”
“That year-round beautiful weather George Town has is because of me. It’s fueled by a power sink I created in the harbor, consisting of bird’s nests along the shore. With my returned prime,” she held up her wrist to show the bird bone bracelet, “I have more than enough power to get us out of here.”
“An hour ago you were catatonic.”
“So I’m well rested.”
“Dear Jibreel, I’m not going to win this, am I?” A short, strained laugh escaped Katara before she yelled out, “Arcadia!”
“Yes, Captain,” the quartermaster said, loping over, her face now her own.
“Take Miku to the poop deck and keep her safe, you hear me?”
“Yes, Captain, but you should know,” Arcadia said, pointing toward the exit. “Saval’s ships are steamers. Once they get burning, we won’t be able to outrun them.”
Katara looked to Miku. “If you’re going to out yourself, now would be a good time for it.”
With a nod, Miku followed Arcadia to the highest deck at the rear of the ship while Katara and Gamon took their places below them on the quarterdeck.
Seeing Katara take the wheel, Miku reached out mentally. “Hold on!”
The former priestess’ daughter raised her arms and wind filled the sails, jolting Persephone into motion. Katara steered them away from the dock, shooting a quick look at the poop deck. The belled sleeves of Miku’s white dress spread wide in the wind, giving them the appearance of angel wings flapping beside her as raven hair whipped about a face full of serene determination. Heart full of pride in her friend’s fearless power, Katara turned back around as the ship’s speed increased, propelling them toward the steamers puffing black smoke, racing to block the narrow exit into open waters.
“They’re gaining on us, Captain!” Gamon announced.
“Miku, we need more speed,” she mentally told her.
“I can’t make her go any faster! My power sink is limited, unlike an Enclave.”
“Captain,” Gamon continued when she didn’t reply to him, “If we get past them in time, they’re still in position to pursue.”
If Miku could be brave enough to put her life and truth on the line, Katara could too. Better together.
“Gamon, hold her steady and be ready for more speed,” Katara yelled, handing the wheel over to him.
Katara bounded up to the poop deck and stepped to Miku. “Are you willing to take this all the way? Is it worth your life to leave here? If it isn’t, I need to know now.”
Miku nodded. “It’s worth it.”
Katara nodded and looked to Arcadia. “We can’t outrun the steamers as is. Prepare the crew for using Mettilwynd.”
“Yes, Captain,” Arcadia said, leaving them alone.
“Mettil . . .” Miku asked.
Katara took Miku’s hand and they rushed to the quarterdeck while she explained. “That’s the name I gave to a major modification under the ship—a hydrofoil system. And before you ask how, my boatswain is a genius.”
A cocky half-grin filled Gamon’s face. “I am! What are we talking about?”
“Operation Mettilwynd,” Katara told him. “Now.”
“Wind alone isn’t fast enough to use the foils.”
“I know,” Katara said. “I’ll operate her.”
“Are you sure you want to do that in front of everyone, Captain?” he asked, knowing it would out her as a mage.
“We have no other choice.” Miku’s hand still in hers, Katara stepped in front of the wheel to stand between two aluminum flagpoles that began at shoulder height and ran down through the wood of the deck, into the heart of Persephone.
Speaking mentally, Katara said, “Even with the foils in use we might not be able to outrun the steamers. If not, we’ll need to do a joint casting, like when we were kids. But this one could kill us both.”
Miku’s blue eyes darkened with a determination and strength she hadn’t possessed the day she’d been taken away. “If we don’t escape, Jet and Nakir will make our fate worse than death.
“All right then. You can access my power sink through me,” Katara told her and grasped a pole in each hand, facing the bow of the ship.
Miku wrapped her arms around Katara’s waist from behind. “I’m ready.”
“Then here we go.” Katara closed her eyes and reached down to the fully charged power sink, connecting it to the prime amulet inside her right arm. Sharing that energy with Miku, who filled the sails, Katara activated the hydrofoils below Persephone. The ship rose above the water’s surface, the reinforced hull riding atop the waves on the metal blades, picking up more speed as resistance dropped.
Miku laughed, the sound joyous. “This is amazing!”
“Amazing or not, even with the foils, we’ve got steamers at four and eight o’clock aiming right for us.” Gamon shouted over the whipping wind.
“Hold her steady, then,” Katara told him. “We’re about to try something that could very well get us—”
“Killed?” he asked, finishing her sentence.
“Yeah, that.”
“Must be a day that ends in Y,” he teased, then seriously added, “To the hilt, Captain!”
“To the hilt,” she replied. “Let’s make her fly, Miku.”
“Like, actually fly?”
“Yes, with a joint casting.”
Miku tightened her arms around Katara and laid her cheek against the exposed skin of her friend’s shoulders, just below her neck. “I’m ready.”
“Better together,” Katara said.
“To the end,” Miku replied.
Katara breathed in Miku’s scent to ground herself as her childhood friend sent her creation energy into Katara’s body to bind with hers. If rejected, they’d never outrun Saval’s army. If accepted, the two energies would twist together like a double-helix of DNA, becoming one entity so powerful they’d have the leverage to escape. However, if not controlled, that level of energy could gain too much magical friction and possibly explode.
After only a moment’s hesitation, Katara’s energy acknowledged and accepted Miku’s, the two winding together seamlessly.
“Whatever you’re planning, do it fast! We’re going to collide in the next thirty seconds, Captain!” Gamon announced.
Ignoring him, Katara focused on supporting both Miku and the hydrofoil with Persephone’s power sink while Miku called on the ability of levitation.
Intense internal pressure rising, Katara cried out in agony. This heat spread to the flagpoles, singeing her hands as the core of her being felt as if it were roasting from the inside out. Spiral streams of energy spun so fast within them that both of their bodies began to glow like steel in a furnace, causing Katara to pant with pain.
“Twenty seconds until impact!” Gamon shouted.
“Almost there . . .” Miku said to Katara mentally.
“Mist, Gamon! Hide us from them just in case!”
“Aye, Captain!”
Eyes still closed, Katara felt the dampness of mist caress her skin, easing physical pain. But her fear for the life of her crew intensified. She had to keep them safe!
Detecting her friend’s panic, Miku mentally sent Katara a picture from their past. It was Miku’s perspective of the day Chopra had saved her life; an eight-year-old girl full of gallantry, strength, and fearlessness. The characteristics she still saw and felt in that same Indi-girl she trusted today.
“You are the reason I’m alive, Chopra. You’re my strength, my equal, my rock to stand on, and my reason to push forward in this life. I blame you for nothing in our past or for this moment now. Let go of your fear. We are one, you and I. We can do this.”
Tears sliding down Katara’s face, she kept her prime amulet arm in contact with the metal pole and let go of the other. Taking Miku’s hand, she gripped it tight, and with a single accepting breath of self-worth, forgiveness, and love, the doub
le-helix bonded and the last bit of resistance dropped away. With the friction gone, the heat abated, and with the elegance of a kite swooping into the sky, Persephone soared upward and out of the water.
Katara opened her eyes and stared in awe as her ship rose high into the air, cutting through the black smoke of the steamers below as she flew over them, prompting the crew to erupt in shouts of amazement and joy.
“You did it!” Gamon said. “This is beautiful.”
With the mist behind them, and the last of the pain gone, Katara watched the beauty of the setting sun below them. The sky, a bright magenta, faded into orange and yellow as they flew. Soon, with the sun down and no moon to brighten the Earth, the sky became as black as Persephone’s sails, and the ship disappeared into the night.
Once sure of safety, Katara and Miku gentled Persephone back onto the water and discontinued the joint casting. Katara retracted the foils, and as a natural breeze picked up, Miku dropped her magical efforts—allowing the brigantine to naturally glide across smooth waters.
Free to sit and take stock of injuries, Katara immediately realized the glamour to hide her facial scars, cast in order to conceal her true identity, had ceased working. She must have drawn on its energy unconsciously. She’d deal with that later; there were more pressing problems.
“We should call the ship’s doctor,” Arcadia offered.
Katara quickly rebuffed her quartermaster. “No, I’m fine. Don’t you dare go get him. He’ll try to stick me with a needle again.”
“So, how’s your nose?” Arcadia taunted in reply.
Katara pointed at her quartermaster. “Don’t start.”
“You’re bleeding from your ears, Captain,” Gamon said. “You both are.”
“Spawn balls,” Miku blurted out as she wiped the blood away, causing everyone to turn and look at her in surprise. “What? Just because I look sweet and innocent doesn’t mean I am.”
Everyone on the quarterdeck laughed, even Arcadia, who Katara could tell was more than perturbed with her for trying such a conjure without warning her first.
“Here,” Gamon said, handing Katara a flask. “I made a new batch while we were in Ranong.”
Katara’s nose wrinkled. “Does this one taste like horse manure?”