King Tides Curse

by C J Timms

  Spur’s primer for fracturesmiths 2nd edition.

  The door of Gale’s room burst inward.

  He jerked upwards in a tangle of sheets. In the darkness, hooded figures grappled him, binding him before he could make a sound. Gale tried to call his Script, but the hangover made him sluggish. Then something crashed into his head, and knocked him out.

  Gale woke a second time with a pounding headache. Bloody hell he’d only had one beer, or had it been two? Titus had kept topping him up. He cracked his eyes open a slit and could see the back of a small airship. The airship was no more than a ute sized craft that plugged along at a rough pace. His arms and legs were bound, a hood over his head. The hood had slipped, however, and gave him a glimpse of his surroundings. Swan and Titus were both passed out beside him. Swan in a pink fluffy dress robe and Titus in a singlet and batman undies. Yip was opposite him in the craft. Two figures stood over him. Yip seemed to have taken more of a bruising. Perhaps he’d managed to fight back?

  Although Yip’s eyes remained closed, Yip’s left hand moved ever so slightly. Yip’s index finger twitched, and a scrap of paper slid into view beside Gale. It showed four large…alpacas? Camels maybe? He shook his head slightly.

  A small frown creased Yip’s brow. Yip pinched his thumb and pinky together. A piece of charcoal moved in front of Gale and ever so slowly, etched an image onto the paper. It drew out a fish? An arrow? Dumbfounded, Gale shook his head slightly again.

  Yips frown creased further, his jaw clenching and he moved his whole hand this time. Four fingers. Then none.

  Gale slowly nodded. Four assailants total, probably two in the front driving plus the two beside Yip. Was this because of his stunt in the entrance exam? Or more sabotage organised by Giltynan?

  The airship came to a jerking halt and settled down into a grassy patch just off a highway. Barely a roadside pullover, there wasn’t even a toilet. The hooded figures began to unload them from the truck.

  Two hands grabbed his shoulders, and Gale summoned his Script. Script coursed through his limbs and he ripped his shackles apart. Yip kicked out with a leg and knocked down one of their captors. They tumbled off the back of the truck. Gale leapt to his feet and summoned his harpoon. He knocked the other figure back onto his arse with the blunt end.

  Two doors clanged open at the front, and Gale leapt off the flatbed. Two seniors from House Solvent, bearing the coin in beaker crest, drew weapons. Gale lunged forward with his harpoon, and one of the seniors waved a hand. A wave of locomotive force sent Gale tumbling along the ground. Yip crashed into Gale a moment later, with an oomph.

  ‘Settle down, freshmen,’ said the taller senior, a gangly orange-haired kid. ‘This is Walkabout.’

  Gale pushed himself back to standing and watched as the other senior from the front joined him. The two they’d knocked off the truck remained unconscious.

  ‘I’m Forks, and this is Knives,’ Forks said and gestured to the second senior, a tubby male with no neck to speak of, a buzzcut and a vest of knives strapped to his chest. ‘Just hear me out before we get into the punching and the kicking ay? This is Walkabout, its an academy tradition for you freshmen.’

  ‘Tradition,’ spat Gale, ‘I would have preferred a cake.’

  ‘Easy friend, easy, we’re just the House that gets paid to take care of it. Just a job, you know. Hey and all you have to do is get this couch back to the university.’ Forks gestured to a couch Gale strapped to the back of the ute. Gale kept the other two seniors in his periphery, still on the ground. It was still two on two, but that locomotive blast from Forks was deadly. Knives looked to be at least a third year.

  The odds weren’t great.

  Gale held a hand out to halt Yip. ‘What are the rules?’

  ‘Its dead simple friend, dead simple. We drop you off here with the couch, we head off, no harm done and let you get the couch back to Ionhome however you want.’ Forks said. Gale patted his pockets, no wallet or phone of course.

  ‘And all the freshmen have to do this, even House Laurels?’ Gale asked.

  ‘Of course friend, every freshman has to this.’

  ‘Right…but how far away did your colleagues drop the House Laurels freshmen compared to us?’ Yip asked.

  Forks gave him a wink, ‘Some of my colleagues might have been paid a bit extra for a favourable drop-off, but that's all part of the game isn’t it.’

  ‘What if we don’t bring the couch back to Ionhome, what if we just leave it here?’ Gale asked.

  ‘It is frowned upon, and sometimes these things might have to happen again. It doesn’t matter to me, friend. I’ll get paid to do it again all the same.’

  Gale ran the numbers. His skin still burnt from the entrance exam. Yip was ready to go at his side at a word. Just a little longer, Gale thought. Keep them talking.

  ‘So friend if you’ve asked all your questions we’ll be on our way, yes?’ Forks said, spreading his palms out in front of him. Knives gave a vicious smile.

  ‘Oh I’d already guessed most of the answers, I was just waiting for her to wake up.’ Gale nodded over their shoulder.

  Swan launched out of the flatbed of the airship, her hair bedraggled, her eyes bleary, her pink bathrobe billowing out like a cape. Swan’s kicked out with two animal-print slippers. Forks and Knives went tumbling across the ground.

  ‘Who interrupted my beauty sleep?’ she roared.

  Forks and Knives sprang back to their feet. Knives went for his weapons and Swan grinned. She threw out a hand and Knives daggers exploded into liquid metal, they flowed towards Swan and reformed into the Slagblade in her hand.

  That was cool. Harpoons were cooler, but that was pretty cool.

  Yip murky-stepped behind Knives and punched him in the kidneys. Forks slammed his palms together to summon a wave of locomotive force. Gale darted forward and threw out a thin stream of water into Forks, blinding him. The blunt end of Gale’s harpoon struck Forks in the abdomen, sent him to his knees. Yip appeared behind him and bound his arms with rope.

  ‘Stay down.’ Gale pointed the spear end of his harpoon at Forks throat. Swan pinned Knives and Yip tied him up. Yip stepped back with both of them subdued then turned to Gale.

  ‘Its the number four!’ Yip yelled and shoved the drawing in Gales face.

  Gale squinted, if he turned his head at the right angle it could maybe look like a four, from the right distance…at night.

  ‘Why did you draw four alpacas?’ Gale asked.

  ‘It is four humans, they were clearly humans,’ Yip said.

  ‘What are you doing friend, it's just a prank, its tradition, its just Walkabout.’ Forks said, wide-eyed. ‘How things are done here.’

  ‘Things are going to change.’ Gale said. They tied Forks and Knives to a tree.

  ‘I didn’t think you were a morning person.’ Gale said to Swan as they tied knots.

  Swan pointed to an inscription on her bathrobe. It read Not until I’ve had my coffee.

  Yip searched their captors pockets and wallets. Swan and Gale looked at him.

  ‘Well, how are you planning to pay rent?’ He said. ‘Take any opportunity.’

  Titus poked his head over the back of the airship and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. ‘What’d I miss?… What…whose been drawing alpacas?’ Titus said, holding up the piece of paper from the truck.

  Yip stormed over and snatched the paper back. Swan popped the hood on the airship.

  ‘The airship’s fried’ Swan said. ‘Might have done it in the fight.’

  Gale cursed then looked around at their surroundings. Probably somewhere south of Sydney. Eucalypts rose from the side of the road, the sign of fire still marring half of them, even as new growth sprang from the destruction. Fire was part of the rebirth cycle of this forest. Deadly but needed.

  He considered the couch.

  ‘Titus help me get that couch off the truck.’ Gale said.

  Titus paused and looked at Swan, ‘Did he vanquish his foes?’


  ‘Some of them,’ Swan said.

  ‘What a guy!’ Titus said and rolled up the sleeves of his flannie, rubbed his hands together and turned to the couch. Gale struggled with the puzzle that was Titus Mangrove’s budding bromance, then gave up. He instead turned his attention to an easier problem, working out where they were. It looked like somewhere coastal south of Sydney. He could make out tall buildings in the distance to the north.

  ‘Ah frak,’ cursed Titus. The couch snapped at him, part of the cushions forming a mouth.

  ‘Hmmm…that looks fun.’ Said Gale, Titus punched the couch into submission.

  ‘Thoughts?’ He asked Yip.

  ‘Well we could try and hitch a ride, but it would take a while, and we’re not exactly dressed for success.’ Yip gestured to Swan’s pink bathrobe and Titus’s Batman underpants. Yip threw Forks and Knives’s uselessly empty wallets to the ground. ‘Also, without cash, we’d be lucky to convince a bus driver to take us. At least the Penumbra should hide anything odd the couch does from the locals.’

  ‘The Penumbra,’ mused Gale. He looked back at the couch, where faint blue smoke rolled off it. ‘Swan, that levitation magic you used moving in your desk. That was Locomotyr aspect, right?’

  Swan nodded. ‘The Swan’s forges are in Locomotyr, I’ve got some talent.’

  What was it Tony Robbins said in Awaken the Giant? Visualise your goals. See where you want to be. His lips curled up in a smile. It was quite a vision.

  ‘Could you cast it on a couch?’ Gale asked.

  ‘Yeah, why?’ Swan asked.

  ‘Tell me, what do you know about Sydney traffic?’

  ‘Go left, or we miss the turnoff,’ Gale yelled to Swan. At the head of the couch, Swan gripped the sides hard and hauled it left.

  ‘Yelling isn’t helping,’ Swan said.

  They weaved between a truck and a small car. At the back, Yip and Titus threw themselves to the side. The weight swung the couch into drifting around the corner. Gale jabbed his harpoon down on one side to stabilise the turn. The four of them clung like barnacles to the small couch as it rocketed along at high speed.

  ‘I thought you said you had your license,’ Yip yelled at Swan. ‘Don’t tell me that daddy couldn’t afford driving lessons.’

  ‘I have my L’s and its for an airship, not a reef-damned flying couch.’ Swan said. ‘I’ve only driven on backroads and one time through Ionhome. This city’s roads make no frakking sense.’ Swan knuckles were white, where she gripped the couch.

  Behind them a police siren started up, and a motorbike cut through traffic chasing them, sirens blaring to pull over. ‘That's all we need’, grumbled Gale. The Penumbra probably made them look like a speeding car. The blue fog of the Penumbra trailed around the couch casting spliced images around them. At least the Penumbra was masking them from the non-magical.

  ‘You know we should have communicators, for situations like this,’ Yip yelled to Gale. ‘In case we’re deployed without warning.’

  ‘Electronics are shithouse around Ionhome but if you can work it out be my guest.’ Gale said.

  ‘SHUTUP or I will turn this couch around,’ Swan said. She hooked the couch in between two heavy busses whose horns blared. A helicopter swooped overhead, camera crew leaning out.

  ‘Check it, lads, we’re on the telly!’ Titus said. ‘I knew the batman undies would pay off!’

  They swerved across the harbour bridge. At the other end, police lights flashed next to a barricade. They were caught.

  ‘Frak,’ said Swan.

  ‘Swear jar,’ said Titus. He reached across the other two awkwardly and held the jar out to Swan. Swan gave him the finger. Yip ledgers flew out of his cloak and started scribbling madly as his eyes flitted between the two closing police cordons.

  Gale leaned forward. ‘I have an idea.’

  ‘Yeah, what is it…oh brilliant leader?’ Swan said.

  ‘Take a deep breath.’

  Gale tapped his Deep magic and blasted water to the side. The couch skidded to the right, towards the edge of the bridge and then shot over. They plummeted towards the water and Gale pulled on the ocean. He wrenched water up in a column forming a ramp. The couch skated down the ramp and shot across the harbour. Gale tapped the bottom of his reserves to propel the sofa across the water. His already burnt skin threatened to scale over.

  They coasted along the harbour back towards the university. Titus stood like a ship captain at the bow of the couch, looking boldly out to the horizon. Gale chuckled, sometimes you just had to enjoy what you could.

  The couch slid to a stop on the island-turtle’s beach. Gale sloughed off the couch with skin burnt red and Script drained.

  ‘You four are done!’ Professor Giltynan yelled, his jowls wobbling, his face bright red. A small gathered crowd of students and professors waited on the beach behind Giltynan.

  ‘Destruction of property, a trending youtube video and Script use in broad daylight.’ Giltynan said, sticking his face right up in Gale’s.

  ‘I’m sorry Professor, we assumed it was a military survival exercise. Why else would we have been attacked in our rooms and kidnapped from our beds.’ Gale said. ‘I thought we would get full marks for overpowering our captors?’

  ‘YOU WHAT!’ Giltynan yelled, hands flapping wildly. ‘Bella and Hotaru over there took the bus, they asked nicely, and a bus driver gave them a hand. Its meant to teach you humility, walk a mile in a beggars shoes and all that. Build your teamwork skills. Not get your face on the bloody news.’

  ‘I guess we made a mistake,’ Gale said with his eyes cast down. ‘Tell you what though, if you let us off with a warning…I’ll tell you where we left Forks and Knives.’

  Ilmark burst out into laughter, ‘Come on Giltynan, you can’t fault a warrior for winning a fight.’

  Giltynan’s face went redder.

  ‘If they mess up again though…we’ll send them to salt mine.’ Ilmark said, grinning wider. Too wide.

  Giltynan paused, straightened his tie (tiny cat patterns today) and rubbed his hands together with glee. ‘Yes, the salt mines…’

  Swan - The little anvil

  Swan rolled out her shoulder, new pain flaring over the old pain of her burn. Swan’s muscles still ached from driving the couch. Time to work out the stiffness in the Smithy. She’d missed being in the forge. The rhythm of metal on metal, the heat, the ache in your muscles that let you know you were alive. She needed to be here, getting stronger.

  Professor Ilmark loomed over her like a mountain troll. ‘Miss Swan, I know very well what happened at your father’s Smithy. I know why you were sent here.’

  Ilmark lowered his face down to hers. ‘At the hint of weirdness or trouble, you will be out of my smithy, is that clear?’

  Something materialised in Swan’s shirt pocket. Said a high pitched voice in her head.

  Swan kept very still, a bead of sweat ran down her back. ‘Yes, sir, very good. Nothing weird.’

  The voice said in her head again. Something shifted in her shirt pocket. Swan coughed bending over and clamped a hand on her pocket.

 

  Ilmark eyed her for a long time, then stalked away. Looking for other first years misusing his Smithy.

  Swan dragged a few pieces of material around into a semi fort-like structure and reached into her pocket. Something hard jabbed her, and with a muffled gasp, she pulled her hand back. The metallic bird from the entrance exam fluttered onto her desk.

  Swan lowered her head to the makeshift fort. ‘What are you?’ Swan asked.

  The bird cocked its head back and forth.

  ‘What about a name?’

  The bird, Larc, said in her head, in a distinctly feminine voice.

  ‘Hey you attacked me in the entrance exam.’

  rs during class?>

  Trick question, she thought.

  Larc shook her head.

  ‘Well if you’re going to be like that you can fly away.’ Swan said

  Larc stared up at her with her beak high and her tail feathers spread. One wing hanging limp. Oh frak, she’d done that.

  ‘I can…I can fix that…I think.’ Swan said.

  Larc said.

  ‘Well…I could get someone else to do it?’

  Larc’s head twisted back and forth rapidly as she spoke. A nervous twitch?

 

  Ilmark passed by them again, and Swan coughed, clamping a hand over Larc. Ilmark eyed her for a long moment then stalked onwards.

  Swan bent over Larc and started poking at Larc’s wing. It was frakking complex. The wing was made of multiple metals including platinum.

  Her phone, augmented by Script, buzzed on the desk. Frak, not right now. She plastered on a smile.

  ‘Hi dad, how’s it going.’ Swan said.

  ‘My little anvil, how is school, are you breaking hearts and skulls.’

  ‘Yeah dad,’ Swan bent down closer to the desk. ‘House Laurels is going well. Yep, I’m sure I’ll top the year don’t worry. Why aren’t I the top already…I’m lulling them into a false sense of security…yeah, I’m playing them.’

  ‘Keep it up my little anvil.’

  Swan paused. ‘How are things at home.’

  The line was quiet for a moment. Then a joyous laughter came through. ‘Doing well, doing well, lots of ideas and plans being thrown around here. Your brother is playing his part of course.’