Welcome To The Age of Magic

by C M Raymond et al.

  “One thing’s for certain,” Jarvi said. “We’re going to have to find some rock-solid proof if we want to convince the Magistrate that Captain Tor is working with the Barskall.”

  Captain Tor carefully inched the fork to the right, checking to make sure it was perfectly aligned with the knife. When the utensils were arranged to his liking, he let out a satisfied sigh. Everything was in place.

  There was a knock at the door, and Tor stood up and straightened his leather armor. “Come in.”

  The door opened, and two of his sailors stepped in, dragging a dirty man with a fat lip between them.

  Tor did his best to conceal his surprise and instead forced his face into a mask of concern. “Captain Roy! Are you not well?”

  Roy smiled up at him. “Honestly, I’ve been better.”

  The sailors both wore looks of fear. The taller one said, “Sorry, captain. He didn’t want to come. We had to get a little rough.”

  Tor grimaced. This wasn’t off to a wonderful start. “You two help Captain Roy into his seat. Then see Randall and tell him to throw you over the side. If you’re still treading water after an hour, he can pull you back up.”

  The two men went pale. They placed Captain Roy in the chair and hurried out, closing the door behind them.

  Tor sat down across the table from the captain of The Foggy Day. It was an odd sight, this dirty and battered man sitting at this carefully appointed table.

  A roast chicken sat between them. Tor carved as he spoke. “That’s the sign of a well-run ship. I can order those men to tell the first mate to throw them over the side, and I know they’ll do as I ask. I don’t even have to check with Randall to make sure they followed through. I know. Tell me, Captain Roy, would your sailors do the same if you ordered it of them?”

  Roy smiled through his busted lip. “My sailors wouldn’t have to. If I want someone thrown overboard, I do it my own damn self.”

  Tor paused, but only for a moment. Then he resumed carving. “I hope they didn’t rough you up too much. I’ve taken pains to be kind to you and your crew.”

  “I can take a punch from the likes of them.”

  Tor put a healthy amount of chicken on both their plates. “Good. Then let’s eat.”

  They did so in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Captain Roy said, “As much as I appreciate the meal, I’d like to know what I’m doing here.”

  Tor carefully chewed his food before answering. “I thought it was time to have a chat, captain to captain.”

  “Or captor to prisoner.”

  Tor ignored the comment. “I know we’ve had our differences. Even before you hid a fugitive and helped her escape. But I believe we can move past that.”

  Roy shoved another piece of poultry into his mouth, not taking his eyes off Tor.

  “Do you know how many Storm Captains would love to be sitting where you are, receiving the offer I’m about to make you?” Tor asked. “All of them. Every last one.”

  Again, Roy didn’t respond.

  Tor kept his voice even, though this man was beginning to annoy him. “By now, you know the truth about what Thunderclap, Summer Wind, and High Tide do here in the north.”

  “You kill. You steal. Along with a few other ships in the fleet, I’ll bet.”

  Tor wasn’t about to tell this man who else was aligned with him. Not yet. “We Storm Raid. And yes, we kill and steal at times, both here on the Kaldfell Peninsula and on the Lost Isles. And we align ourselves with enemies like the Barskall when need be. But we’re not accumulating wealth out of greed. We’re doing it to expand our way of life. Once we’ve built up our treasure chests, we will be able to conquer. To rule nations. And I’m offering The Foggy Day a place in that fleet. Come. Storm Raid with us.”

  Roy let out a chuckle. “Seriously? That’s your pitch? Help you grow your coffers so you can conquer nations? I expected better, Captain Tor.”

  Tor set down his fork and looked into the other man’s eyes. “Roy, I suggest you seriously consider this. I remember when you became a captain—before you started settling for the easy voyages. You had just as much potential as I did. More, maybe.”

  “You call it settling. I call it protecting traders and fishermen. In other words, I’m doing what I swore to do.”

  “You’re a good captain, Roy. I know you are. I can bring you wealth. A ship worthy of your skills. The respect of Holdgate. Or, choose the other option and bring death to yourself and your crew. It should be an easy decision.”

  “It is.” Now, it was Roy’s turn to set down his fork. “We have a sacred duty to protect the people of Kaldfell, and you are selling their lives for a cheap alliance with the enemy. You want to kill me? Kill my crew? Fine. I can’t stop you. But I’m not signing up to be a Storm Raider.”

  Tor sighed. “We’ll go with the more painful option then. Tomorrow morning, we’ll sail The Foggy Day out a bit, and we’ll sink it. You and your crew can drown as my Storm Raiders and I watch.”

  Roy smiled thinly. “I suppose that’s the best death any sailor can hope for. Now, if your two boys are done treading water, I think I’d like to go back to my ship.”

  23

  Abbey climbed the rope up the hull of Thunderclap, then pulled herself over the railing and onto the deck. She then dropped to a crouch and looked around. As far as she could tell, no one had spotted her. She removed the hook she’d used to secure the climbing rope to the rail and let it fall into the water below.

  Dustin had called down a little fog—not heavy enough to call attention to itself, but still useful. However, the moon was bright tonight, too bright for Abbey’s liking.

  The trip from the small village in the mountains to Bode had been quick thanks to the man who’d driven them in his wagon. The village had been sad to see them go, especially Vern who’d given Abbey a tight hug before becoming embarrassed and slipping away. Abbey understood. She’d been sad to leave them, too. It had been her first real battle, and she’d fought together with those people. Now, she was leaving them to their fate. For all she knew, the Barskall could attack the village again tonight.

  But Abbey didn’t think so. She knew the real reason the Barskall had attacked the village. They’d been looking for Abbey and her friends. Staying in the village would have been foolish. She’d just be putting them in more danger.

  Abbey had slept in the back of the wagon through most of the journey down from the mountains. It had been much needed, and she woke refreshed, but with a serious crick in her neck. After sleeping with her head on a rock in the cave, and then in the jostling bed of a wagon traveling down a mountain road, the bunk on The Foggy Day was going to seem mighty comfortable by comparison.

  Assuming their plan went off without a hitch, and she lived long enough to sleep aboard the ship again.

  Syd and Dustin had both initially been hesitant about Abbey’s plan. They’d agreed that they needed to take back The Foggy Day; they’d just had an issue with Abbey boarding Tor’s ship alone. Syd had insisted she should be the one to board Thunderclap. Once she’d heard the whole plan, however, she’d reluctantly agreed Abbey was the only one who made sense for the job.

  Abbey carefully made her way through the ship, the sketch Syd had drawn to show her the layout fixed in her mind. She made her way through the hatch and down the ladder to the area below deck where the sleeping quarters were located.

  She heard footsteps approaching and crouched in the shadows behind the ladder. Two female voices began talking.

  “The smart money was on Gregory. Who would have thought Ned would be the stronger of the two?”

  “Ah,” the second voice said. “You’re confusing muscles with strength. Ned was a little thing, but he was in shape. Have you seen the way he scurries up the mast?”

  “Perhaps I was. Those arms on Gregory, though. It’s a shame to imagine them rotting beneath the sea.”

  Abbey listened, trying to figure out what the two women were talking about.

  The first voice spok
e again. “Gregory made it forty minutes before he went under. That’s respectable. Especially considering the extra weight Randall had them wearing.”

  “It goes to show, when Captain Tor gives an order, you best follow it to the letter. There was no excuse for them to rough up that pathetic Captain Roy.”

  Abbey pressed herself against the bulkhead, willing the women not to see her. Thankfully, they seemed too involved in their conversation to notice the person crouching in the shadows. The women went up the ladder and disappeared onto the deck.

  Abbey waited a minute to make sure they wouldn’t double back, but all she heard was the groaning of the ship and the sound of the water. She took a deep breath and headed down the passageway.

  When she reached the door that Syd had indicated on her sketch, Abbey paused and pressed her ear against it. For a while, she didn’t hear anything. Then, just when she was about to give up hope, she heard footsteps beyond the door.

  Now that she’d confirmed her target was inside, all she had to do was find a safe place and wait until things began. When they did, everything would happen quickly. She needed to be ready.

  She’d come to terms with the fact that she might never get off this ship alive. That was all right. If her life would buy the freedom of The Foggy Day and allow it to travel back to Holdgate and reveal the truth about Thunderclap, it would be worth it.

  Abbey scurried back to the spot in the shadows behind the ladder and waited for the signal from Dustin.

  Dustin was calling a wave, and he wasn’t touching seawater. He and Syd were in a small boat—though not the same skiff they’d used to escape The Foggy Day as that one was still sitting on the coast somewhere to the south. They’d borrowed this one from a man in Bode who’d practically thrown it at them in fear when he realized Dustin was a Storm Caller. Dustin felt bad using his station like that, but in this case, he didn’t have a choice. They needed to get out to the two Holdgate ships, and quickly.

  This boat didn’t have a sail, so Dustin had called waves to carry them. It meant traveling more slowly, but it also allowed them to be less conspicuous. They’d been able to approach Thunderclap unseen, under cover of light fog. Abbey had thrown a hook with a rope attached over the railing and climbed aboard.

  It had been nerve-wracking watching her board the enemy ship, knowing there was nothing he or Syd would be able to do to help her. But he also knew she was one of the most capable people he’d ever met. If anyone could pull off the Thunderclap portion of the plan, it was her.

  After she’d disappeared over the rail, he’d called back the waves to carry them onward to The Foggy Day.

  It still boggled Dustin’s mind—he was doing something he’d always been taught was impossible. He was Storm Calling without touching seawater. This tiny fishing boat wasn’t made for stormship usage, so it hadn’t been built with the iron cup of seawater at the prow. If not for Dustin’s newfound powers, they would have needed to rig up some way to contain some seawater.

  As it was, it didn’t matter. His staff was touching the dry bottom of the boat, and yet he was Storm Calling! Now that he’d learned how to do it, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. It was starting to seem odd that he’d ever thought there was a difference between Storm Calling in water and on dry land.

  Yet, it had taken two factors for him to unlock this ability. First, Abbey had planted the seed in his mind that such a thing might be possible. That alone had made a huge impact. The way she talked about magic—the way she’d learned it from her father—was so different than what he’d been taught by his mentor, Harald, that it made him consider that perhaps he hadn’t learned everything there was to know about magic.

  Second, it had taken a moment of great stress. While under attack by the Barskall Warrior, he’d been furious that the man had knocked Vern from the tower, and he’d been desperate to find a way to help Abbey on the ground below. That combination of circumstances had pushed him to a place he’d never been, a place where Abbey’s seed of an idea had taken root and suddenly sprouted into this new ability.

  He’d shared some of these thoughts with Syd and Abbey on the wagon ride down the mountain—when they hadn’t been napping.

  Syd’s eyes had grown narrow with concern as she listened. When he’d finished, she’d said, “This new ability, it could change things. It could make the Storm Callers rulers of the land as well as the sea. And not all of them are like you. I suggest you keep this ability secret. The last thing we need is Dahlia Storm Calling on dry land.”

  Dustin had quickly agreed.

  Now, as they moved through the water, he considered what it could mean if the secret got out. Perhaps Tor and his Storm Raiders would move inland. The coastal villages wouldn’t be the only ones subject to his horrifying attacks.

  As they approached The Foggy Day, Syd nudged him.

  “Swing around and approach on the starboard side. Get as close as you can. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “You got it.” Now that they were clear of Thunderclap, Dustin’s confidence was increasing. Maybe they could actually pull this off.

  He approached cautiously from the starboard side as Syd had directed. There were allies aboard this ship, but Dustin knew there would be sailors from Thunderclap aboard, too, keeping the crew under control and making sure they didn’t try anything. Not that they’d be able to get far without their Storm Caller before Dahlia and Thunderclap caught them.

  They pulled up alongside The Foggy Day, and Syd threw a hook over the rail and tied the end to the fishing boat, securing them from drifting away. She let out three sharp noises that Dustin would have sworn had been made by a bird if he hadn’t seen them come out of her mouth.

  Only a moment had passed before three dark shapes appeared at the rail.

  “Holy hell,” one of the men called down in a loud whisper. “Syd, is that really you?”

  “Of course, it is. You think I’d abandon my crew, Mitchell? Make sure it’s safe, then toss down a couple of ropes and haul us up there.”

  Less than a minute later, Dustin was hanging onto a rope, his foot secured in a loop in the bottom of it as they hauled him up. Rough hands grabbed him as he reached the top and pulled him over the railing.

  “You all right, Storm Caller?” one of the men asked.

  Dustin nodded. To his shame, he realized he didn’t know the names of any of these three men. When he’d set out on this voyage, he’d been so focused on impressing Tor and Dahlia that he hadn’t taken the time to learn the names of his own crew.

  The men hauled Syd up next. When she was safely aboard, she motioned the men in close.

  “How many Thunderclap sailors aboard?” she asked.

  “Three dozen,” one of the men answered. “Maybe a little more. But with Dahlia and Tor so close by, we didn’t dare make a move.”

  “They roughed up the captain pretty good,” another man said.

  Syd grimaced. “You’re alive and so is he. That’s what matters. Now, it’s time to do some roughing up of our own. I want you to go below deck and gather as many of our people as you can without attracting attention. We’ll have to hope the rest join in the fun when it starts. When Dustin gives the signal, attack the Thunderclap sailors. We want them dead or overboard as quickly as possible so we can be on our way.”

  One of the men turned to Dustin. “What’s the signal, Storm Caller?”

  Dustin smiled. “Trust me. You’ll know it when you hear it.”

  24

  Abbey crouched in the shadows, a balled-up oilcloth in her hands, ready and waiting for the signal.

  It felt like she’d been sitting like this for an hour, though she knew it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes. A few people had passed her going up or down the ladder, but her hiding spot held true. No one spotted her. She just had to hope Dustin and Syd were having as much success in boarding The Foggy Day and preparing the crew for the attack.

  Abbey wasn’t used to trusting other people except fo
r her father, and it had turned out even he was keeping secrets from her. Normally, if there was something she wanted to make sure got done, she did it herself. Now, she was forced to trust not only Syd and Dustin, but also the entire crew of The Foggy Day. Timing was going to be crucial for this plan to work. If things didn’t play out exactly as they’d planned, she’d be left either stranded on the enemy ship or drowned. Neither of those options was particularly appealing.

  Abbey concentrated on keeping her breathing slow and even while she waited for the signal.

  Then, it came.

  A massive thunderclap sounded, rattling the ship. It was so powerful, Abbey felt it in her teeth.

  Very nice, Dustin, Abbey thought. I’d like to see Dahlia beat that.

  Abbey knew she didn’t have long, so she sprang into motion. She took a step down the passageway and threw the oilcloth in front of the door to Dahlia’s private quarters. Then she centered herself and conjured a fireball. It wasn’t a perfectly controlled sphere like the ones her father created, but that was all right. She wasn’t going for control here; she was going for destruction. She hurled the fireball into the oilcloth, and it burst into flame.

  She conjured three more quick fireballs and tossed them into other parts of the passageway. Stormships were built to resist fire, but she hoped at least some of them would catch.

  Men began pouring out of the sleeping berth, drawn by the sudden thunder. It was time for Abbey to go.

  She risked one last look before she headed up the ladder, and she saw Dahlia’s door open. The Storm Caller let out a high-pitched shout of surprise when she saw the flames outside her door.

  It probably hadn’t been smart of Abbey to stay below deck so long after starting the fire, but boy had it been worth it.

  She turned and raced up the ladder, aware from the panicked shouts coming from behind her that the passageway was erupting into chaos.