Regent

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by Brian Rathbone


  * * *

  "You owe me," Kenward said hours later, looking more agitated than Catrin had ever seen him.

  Shifting, she tried to find a way to get comfortable on the cold, hard stone. She reminded herself that the throne was designed not for comfort but to act as an anchor to her physical form, which would guide her back to her body.

  "I can't believe I let you talk me into this. What was I thinking?"

  Looking out at clear, blue sky, Catrin knew better than to smile. The hastily cut hole in Kenward's deck provided just enough of a view for her purposes. Bales of herbs had been stacked as strategically as possible to provide the proper acoustics and the separation of the two individual chants. Many of Kenward's crew, including Kenward himself, knew both sides of the chant from their harrowing voyage to the Firstland in search of Archmaster Belegra. Those memories brought fear and mourning, and Catrin tried to put that out of her mind as she concentrated.

  Before her, Pelivor knelt, looking up into her eyes. "I'll attend you. Just as I did all those years ago."

  Catrin smiled. "I know I can count on you." She also nearly laughed when she heard Kenward complaining that he should just start keeping drums on his ships so he would not have to constantly make them from whatever was in his hold.

  Voices rose slowly on either side, each with their own cadence and melody that uncannily merged into seamless harmony. When the drums did start, Catrin was impressed by the amount of vibration she felt. The crew had done well. Those vibrations allowed her to slip beyond her mortal shield, and Catrin flew free in a rush of exaltation. The open sky welcomed her, and she soared through it. Behind her, a silvery thread ran back to her waiting form. She, Prios, and Brother Vaughn had been right; it was indeed the mixture of metal and stone that created the anchor effect. Had the thrones ever reached the Godfist, everything could have been different. Catrin and Prios would have had the ability to safely travel astrally anywhere they wished; they could have been so much better prepared. Instead, she and Prios had nearly been killed just trying to travel a short distance to save their son. Catrin did not blame Kenward for the horrors they faced, but she did shiver at the memory of them and wished again that Kenward could have come sooner.

  Instinct guided her as she sailed straight toward Sinjin, her course direct and unerring. The waves raced beneath her, a feeling of bliss nearly overcoming her as she flew. Such freedom! Twisting and spinning, she reveled in the glory of being naught but energy, free of burden and driven by pure purpose. Only the nature of that purpose brought Catrin out of her revelry. The thought of the demons that ravaged her homeland brought with it a dangerous odor, and the wind cried afoul. Those who stood against her overwhelmed Catrin's senses; single-minded hatred engulfed her, and it was that obsession that frightened her the most. It was not as if each of them hated her for his own reason. The hatred was homogeneous and felt as if it came from a single, dominating source. An oily and cloying feeling encroached on Catrin, and she felt insignificant and small. Every sense told her that she would be dead already if not for something surrounding her, protecting her.

  No! her spirit cried as she sensed the falseness of the will that was trying to subvert her, and she recoiled, but it pursued her with relentless vigor. Only when another energy came close did the oppression wane, and Catrin could feel Kyrien as he reminded her what it felt like to be truly protected.

  You should not go back . . . yet.

  Catrin wanted to scream at him, to accuse and blame him. Lacking the form to utter the words, she cast angry energy at him, and still he remained unwavering.

  We are not ready to face them . . . yet.

  I cannot abandon them, Catrin wanted to scream.

  The world spun as Kyrien overwhelmed Catrin's senses with a vision, a projection of his thoughts that felt as if they were her own. She experienced not some memory of Kyrien's past; she lived his fears as if they were her own. He bared his soul, showing her the things he knew were to come, as surely as if he were a prophet. The future horrified her, but it was not enough to dissuade her. No one and nothing could convince her to leave Sinjin to his fate. She had to see him. She could sense his fear. He needed her.

  I must go, she thought with all her might.

  Kyrien relented but stayed by her side. When the attack came, he thrust himself in front of her. Catrin screamed as his energy was torn apart.

  Her spirit shouting a reverberating battle cry, Catrin gathered her energy and attacked. The silvery thread that trailed behind her blazed furiously, and energy raced along the thread to devastating effect. Dark forms gathered in the air around her, each twisted and deformed, as if nature itself had been subverted. Such single-minded rage and malevolence was difficult to face, but Catrin's web of lightning knifed through the air, seemingly random in its path, the tendrils were well-defined and tightly wound, which was a product of what Pelivor had taught her. Now she could create larger, more powerful, structures using less energy. When the beams of liquid light struck, they severed the bonds between the demons' spirits and their mortal forms. She could feel them as they were freed from compulsion, freed from a life of torture, and returned to the well from which they'd been sprung. More came, and Catrin attacked, again and again, relentlessly, feeling no pain and no weariness.

  Voices called to her, but she ignored them. She was winning! She could defeat this enemy and find Sinjin and Prios. She was going to win! Kyrien's spirit overwhelmed her as his energy embraced her.

  You must go back now.

  No! I'm winning!

  The cost is too great. You will die. The darkness is drawing you in and can strike at any time. You must turn back now!

  Catrin didn't care if she died. It was not her life that mattered, but the thought of Sinjin growing up without his mother made her soul ache. A sparkling cloud of threatening energy gathered around the Godfist as she approached, and she could feel the pent-up charge waiting for release. What she'd seen so far had been but a feint; what awaited her now was a full assault. The enemy had tested her defenses and knew her weaknesses. Soon she realized that Kyrien had been right, but it was too late, the attack was swift, without further warning, and deadly. Catrin felt something akin to all the air being sucked out of a room, and the darkness reached out all at once, hurtling toward her with the most foul intent. The hatred battered her senses.

  Catrin opened herself to all the energy she could pull across her lifeline, which now resembled a bolt of lightning racing toward her. When it struck, Catrin felt herself become the conductor. She felt as if she, too, were illuminated from the inside out and that she shone like the sun. The brightness fought the haggard darkness that reached out to her with lethal force. Without thought or reason, Catrin released the energy in a single pulse that sent a wave of light radiating out from her like a massive wall of water. The darkness was tossed before it, and lost in the wave, it dissipated and vanished. It was a small dent in the massive cloud of darkness, but it gave Catrin heart.

  Kyrien soared around her, keeping her safe as she gathered energy for another attack, ready to give all she had left to annihilate this threat to all she loved. The air behind her began to sing, and Catrin turned to see what new threat she faced. A howling form flew straight toward her, and it took her a moment to recognize Pelivor. His speed was terrifying, and had she been in her physical form, Catrin would have taken a step backward. As it was, Pelivor's scream grew louder and louder, and Catrin realized it was not a battle cry, but a warning to get out of the way. Pelivor was out of control.

  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 g
rip 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 whispered.

  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 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

 

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