Lighting Distant Shores (Challenger's Call Book 4)

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Lighting Distant Shores (Challenger's Call Book 4) Page 44

by Nathan Thompson


  They immediately began helping us empty the ship of cargo and passengers, marveling at the magic glyphs, as well as the exotic appearance of the Atlanteans, who were probably their extremely distant ancestors. They rejoiced at the sight of the rescued islanders and embraced them as if they were kin, shouting happily and weeping at the sight of them.

  They’re really close, I quietly messaged Via. Are there a lot of kin between the different island tribes?

  Not that many, she messaged me back. But now that we’ve lost so many, everyone who’s left feels like kin to each other.

  That was a sobering thought. And as I watched the remaining Oceanfolk weep and embrace each other, it made me more determined to save everyone I could, and to not let anyone else tell me whether or not I could save them.

  I will protect. I will prevail. I will be king.

  More Oceanfolk arrived from the other side of the isle to help unload our ship. The relief on their haggard faces was evident, and I couldn’t tell whether they were happy to receive so many supplies or that we had recovered so many survivors. Many of them ran over to greet Via. Stell’s Satellite accepted countless hugs and forearm touches, and although I should have been expecting it, the people quickly swept over me as well.

  The Oceanfolk of the Sun-Jeweled Seas were a more diverse people than the Woadfolk of the Woadlands had been. The Woadfolk varied in their hair color, but had predominantly Caucasian skin tones, with the exception of a handful of tribes in the southern part of the world.

  The Oceanfolk, on the other hand, seemed to have everything but Caucasian features. They covered a wide range consisting of Native American, Latino, and Polynesian builds, with skin tones leaning toward the darker side of tan. That made sense, given the amount of sun everyone got on these islands. It made me wonder, though, just how far apart these islands were. Were these people like Earth, where different parts of the planet produced different ethnicities?

  I asked Via about it as we walked to the canoes on the inner ring of the island. These were far bigger than the little kayaks I was used to seeing back home, which was fortunate, because they would have to carry a lot of material.

  At any rate, Via explained that their tribes were a little bit like Earth, in that different islands produced different ethnicities, but they were still a lot closer than the races had been on Earth. Like the Woadlands, most of the planet was still free of civilization. People, be they human, elf, or sprite, only covered an area similar to the size of the island chains of Indonesia and Hawaii put together, more or less.

  So, do you know how many islands are actually left? I asked Via as I walked over to an empty canoe, and began summoning supplies of my own into the craft from Breaker’s storage space. Or is this place it?

  There are maybe a dozen left, Via admitted, in addition to here. As bad as that is, it makes the remaining handful that much more defensible. Especially since most of the Malus fleet has left. Still, though, sometimes I have a day like yesterday, where an island gets overrun and I have to bring the survivors here. That’s why everyone is so happy right now. Usually, I can save five or six people. But this time, we brought almost the whole island, which is a good sign. I’m hoping, she continued, that if all else fails, we can keep doing that, until we can get everyone else somewhere safe.

  If it comes to that, we will, I promised her. Is this place self-sustaining, though? Can we hold out here indefinitely, if we can defend it?

  With your last supply shipment? The beautiful sailor pondered. Maybe. We’ve been working on this shelter for years. It’s not going to come to that yet, though. There’s a small network of nearby islands, maybe half a day away when conditions are favorable. We’ve been trading with them since we came here, and we help guard and inform each other. I’m going to have to either go myself, or send out others to give them news of recent events. They usually help warn the people here when I’m away.

  We can take you, since our ship is so fast, I offered. Where is the closest one?

  Thanks, she accepted gratefully, as the islanders unloaded the last of the cargo and rescued captives from my ship. She walked a bit to my left and turned her head to look off in the distance. “The closest of our neighbors is only a few dozen leagues… that… way.” She trailed off, eyes widening as she continued to stare. “No. Oh no-no-no.”

  At the edge of our vision, a black cloud, with a burning orange light flickering in the center, began rolling across the waves.

  “This isn’t right,” Via whispered. “It isn’t supposed to just appear out of nowhere. We’re supposed to have more warning. There aren’t even Malus ships nearby.”

  But the dark cloud rolled swiftly toward the island Via had been pointing out to me in the distance, uncaring for the unfairness and horror of it all. A buzzing began to fill our ears as it moved.

  Pungent mists flew on the wind,

  They came to us, announced the end,

  Nuckelavee, Nuckelavee...

  Chapter 18: Fighting False Tides

  Please don’t step on my hand, the still-recovering part of my head cried out. I shook it away angrily, reminding myself that I had beaten the memory once before.

  A single bright and burning eye,

  A hate that raged and would not die,

  It saw more to loathe upon our isles,

  Now it comes, to claim our lives.

  Nuckelavee, Nuckelavee…

  The chant had changed again. I was only guessing, but I took that to mean that the Nuckelavee had run out of Malus ships to chase and was now moving to other targets.

  “I have to go,” Via said without looking away from the approaching horror. “If I get there in time, I may hold it off long enough for the island’s people to escape.”

  “How many people are on the island?” I asked. “And are their own ships fast enough to outrun the thing? Since all you said you can do is hold it off?”

  “No,” the dark olive-skinned woman admitted as she turned to face me, biting her lip. “I’d need to ask you to lend your vessel. Stuff it far beyond what it can normally carry, and hope that your crew can get it away before I…” she swallowed. “Before I can’t hold it off anymore.”

  “Meaning that you expect to either be driven off or to succumb to the thing yourself,” I growled.

  “This is my world, Wes,” the beautiful Satellite said in a frustrated tone. “What else do you want me to do? Stand by and let my people get picked off, one by one? Until it’s my turn anyway?”

  “Nope,” I said. “My ship will save your people. On one condition. Reject it, and I’m out.”

  She gave me the most hurt look I had seen yet, flinching back from me, as if I had already abandoned her.

  “Pendejo,” she muttered under her breath. “Fine. I’ll agree to whatever it is. I don’t have a choice. What is your condition, oh great and mighty Challenger?”

  “I go with you,” I said firmly. “And I help you battle it. Just like we discussed.”

  Via hesitated for a moment.

  “We haven’t really had time to figure out if your plan would work. We’d risk losing us both.”

  “Do you really think Stell and this world can handle losing you?” I persisted mercilessly. “Do you really think your loss won’t have an impact on the other Satellites? That losing me will affect the fate of multiple worlds, but we can afford to be careless with you? My condition stands. Let me go with you, let me help you battle directly, or my ship stays here.”

  She bit her lip again.

  “Fine,” she said with a snarl. “But tell your crew to hurry. We’re already out of time.”

  A mental message accomplished exactly that. My retinue all wanted to accompany us, but Via’s ships were small, and they would be needed in providing additional magical support to the glyph ship. Finally, I wasn’t sure whether any of them could even hurt the monster, as they didn’t really have any of my special tricks.

  As a sort of compromise, our ships would sail close enough together for my
retinue to board Via’s ship if it looked like they could help. We’d have to commit before we engaged, but at least this way, Weylin and Breena could fly everyone over with Air magic.

  Speaking of Breena, she and Val argued with my stance the loudest, but the fact remained that the glyph ship would need every bit of magic it could get. Even Val’s shadow magic would help the ship in small ways, now that the crew had made some adjustments to the glyphs. Breena’s Wood Magic would be even more effective.

  Via’s current ship was her smallest and fastest, practically all sail. It could take as much Air Magic I could put out and still work just fine. A lesser sailor—myself, for example—would have flipped the boat within minutes, but Via guided the boat and adjusted the sails expertly, as if she had been sailing for centuries. Which, come to think of it, she had.

  Our two vessels surged forward, leaving the cove and cutting into the open sea. We angled our crafts toward the dark cloud racing toward the nearby island. The cloud billowed outward as we traveled, widening as it stretched up toward the sky and making the day seem like evening instead of late morning. The buzzing returned to our ears as we sped across the water, and the old singsong chant returned to my mind.

  Pungent mists flew on the wind,

  They came to us, announced the end,

  Nuckelavee, Nuckelavee...

  The mist has claimed a thousand lives

  Yet its hatred will not die

  So now, the end is nigh,

  Nuckelavee, Nuckelavee

  The poison comes to take us all

  To cold and formless halls below

  Down where that which eternal lies,

  Nuckelavee, Nuckelavee

  What is angry has met what’s mad,

  Once sated violence, hunger has

  Robbed murder of its fill,

  So it keeps its victims down until

  Strange aeons pass, and death does die,

  And all in doom, forever lie,

  Nuckelavee, Nuckelavee.

  It was the Flood that wrecked our home, a voice whispered in my mind.

  “Well at least they aren’t being subtle about it,” I mumbled as I poured more power into the sails.

  “What was that?” Via shouted, darting around the boat to reposition the sails in order to give us the most speed possible.

  Nothing, just talking to myself, I sent apologetically. Sorry. I’ll message you this way if I actually need to talk.

  Still distracting, she grumbled as she leaned back and pulled on another line, letting the sails take in even more of the magical wind.

  Won’t happen again, I reassured her.

  Better not, she scowled, moving the sail in a completely different direction. We’re going on this course now.

  Got it, I sent, repositioning to blow more gusts of air into the canvas. The dark cloud grew closer.

  We’re catching up, Via said fiercely. If we can go just a little faster…

  I heard her words and put more power into the sails. I had mana to spare, thanks to my high Intelligence Trait. I could probably manage small gusts like this all day.

  Via still darted all around the boat, pulling and twisting the ropes tied to the sails to make full use of my magic. Through the mindlink, I could tell that my friends in the caravel were doing everything they could to increase their ship’s speed as well. Both vessels reached their maximum possible velocity, but the dark mist and burning figure still pulled ahead of us.

  It was going to reach the island moments before we did. Which meant it would claim over a hundred lives and deprive Via’s own islands of a needed resource.

  Via blew an anxious, frustrated breath through her nose.

  We’ll have to get its attention after all, she told me. This is why I didn’t want you to come.

  I’m sorry, I told her, drawing Breaker and summoning Claimh Solais. But this is why I needed to.

  Lord Challenger, Gabin messaged me. We’re at our maximum possible speed, but we won’t be able to intercept the enemy before it reaches the island. Do you wish for us to try and distract it?

  No, Via replied, since the captain had included her in this private message. You need to get clear to the island. Let us take the lead. Then see if you can hurt the thing from your position. If your artillery can’t, fall back and head for the village on the island and rescue as many people as you are able. Keep as far away from us as possible.

  Understood, the Atlantean replied. As he relayed his orders to the crew, one final message came over the mindlink from Breena.

  Wes, she said, worriedly. I hate when you have to do this. Take care of yourself. And take care of Via, too.

  She’s a part of you, I messaged my bonded sprite. So I’d never let anything happen to her. Keep your sunlight magic ready, though. It might be the only thing that can protect the caravel from the mist.

  Got it, she agreed, and broke off the link. On a whim, I turned my attention back to the Well.

  Can you sense what’s going on outside my body? I asked.

  Negative, the intelligence replied. Unable to link with outer awareness at this time.

  I shrugged. It was worth an attempt.

  Alright, I sent to Via and Gabin as I raised Claimh Solais over my head. I’m going to try and get the thing’s attention. Do we have any kelp?

  No, and why would we? The Satellite asked me.

  Just an idea, I replied, then focused on making Claimh Solais as bright as possible, channeling fire and lightning magic through the blade in addition.

  That did the trick. The buzzing in my ears returned, but instead of another creepy rhyme, a loud roar, nearly on the same level as the Tidefather’s, suddenly tore through the air, cutting clean across the distance between us. The dark cloud and central orange-hued flame rotated toward us, and began moving even more rapidly than before. The roar sounded out again, shredding the air around my ears. The cloud shrank back into itself, condensing, as the flame at its core grew all the brighter.

  I began to hear galloping sounds echo across the waves. The distance between our vessels and the Nuckelavee shrank steadily and rapidly, until we were less than a mile away. Now I could make out something that looked like a horse and rider, with the horse portion having long legs and the rider having even longer arms. The fact that I could make out that much detail even at this distance concerned me.

  In range of long-distance weaponry, Gabin informed me as the thing galloped even closer.

  Fire at will, I replied. A moment later, a lightning bolt arced out of the caravel’s crow’s nest and sped toward the burning orange figure in the middle of the dark mist. The figure roared again, and raised one of its long arms. It swung the limb at the electric bolt, striking the missile with a burst of orange flame. Despite the intensity of the fire, I could see the bolt deflect to the west. The Nuckelavee continued galloping toward us, appearing no worse for the wear.

  Attacks appears to have been completely ineffective, Gabin said calmly over the mindlink. Requesting permission to completely disengage.

  Granted, I replied. Try to keep out of the cloud.

  With that command sent, I did my best to remind myself that I had already slain a number of terrifyingly powerful creatures so far.

  Via twisted the sail again, causing our craft to bank hard to the starboard side. To ensure the monster would chase us, instead of the people who had just fired at it, I intensified the fire magic around my sword, doing my best to create a flame that mimicked the effects of burning certain materials.

  Via, have you ever burned kelp? I sent to her.

  Yes, but why? She demanded, angry at being distracted right now. This was an occasion where the mindlink should be used exactly as she preferred, so I dumped all the information I had concerning kelp and the Nuckelavee, and asked her to give me as many details as she remembered concerning the smell and sight of the fire created from burning kelp.

  It took some work, but the very nature of fire was that it needed something to burn, and that so
mething always added a few minor properties to the flame. Once Via described the specific necessary properties, I was able to create a fire that looked and smelled like a flame created from burning kelp, which according to Orcadian legends, was the greatest way to enrage the Nuckelavee.

  It worked well enough. The fiery figure had begun to turn toward the caravel, but at the sight of my flame, it let out an ear-ravaging screech, reared up on its hind legs, and pivoted back in our direction. It galloped even faster toward us, and with the distance between us rapidly closing, I could see it stretch its long arms out to either side. The black mist began to billow around it like kilometer-long wings, extending to cut off both the caravel and our own boat.

  Please don’t step on my hand, the wounded voice in my head wailed. But as the light from Breaker blazed, the mist drew back from it.

  Breena, I sent across the mindlink to my bonded friend.

  I know, Wes, the sprite grumbled bitterly. But you two had better come back alive.

  I sent her my agreement. As both vessels moved farther apart, Breena converted into her full Dawn Fairy form. Her wings and body radiated light, and the mist drew back from her as well. With that, the caravel was able to pull clear of the Nuckelavee’s mist and head for the target island.

  Via and I weren’t so lucky.

  Claimh Solais flickered as it held the poisonous Flood mist at bay, but the Nuckelavee continued to draw closer to us. Now less than a kilometer away, it was much easier to make out the full details of the horrible monster.

  The thing was every bit of the nightmare I remembered from myth. It was as if a cyclopean horse had been torturously grafted with the upper torso of a cyclopean rider, and then both creatures had been skinned. The monster’s body was composed entirely of black veins, bloody muscle, and sharp bone. From what I could tell, the shoulder of the horse-body would probably reach my nose, and the humanoid torso was at least another four feet above that. Yet the humanoid arms were able to reach all the way down to the creature’s hooves, ending in bony clawed hands that were nearly the size of my head. Both heads were bloody skulls. The horsehead was perhaps the least hideous of the two. It had an excessive amount of teeth, two empty eye sockets where a horse’s eyes normally belonged, and a giant, orange, burning orb in the center of its skull with a blood-red pupil. The head was easily half the size of my torso, close to the same size of the Horde wyvern’s skull. The humanoid head was not really humanoid at all. The bottom half was a mutated pig’s jaw, displaying large, bloody tusks and several rows of blunt molars. The top half, like the horse’s skull below, had two empty eye sockets, with an even larger eye set directly into the middle of the forehead. This eye burned like a giant orange fireball, and it was probably responsible for the visible glow the Nuckelavee put out even when it was enveloped in the middle of its dark cloud.

 

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