“Faye,” Elle called out over the roaring wind, voice tight with urgency, “can’t you just teleport us out of here or something with your magic?”

Faye was pale-faced and visibly queasy from the waves’ violent rocking. The wizard grabbed Liori’s arm for support. “In theory…yes,” she said, voice wobbling. She swallowed, trying to settle her churning stomach. “But I’ve never done it before…not under these conditions.”

Liori pressed a comforting hand to Faye’s back, and a faint glow emanated from her palm. “Breathe, Faye,” she murmured. “I can keep you steady a moment. Just focus.”

“F-Fine,” Faye managed, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her free hand. Steeling herself, she fumbled in her satchel and yanked out a small, blue leather-bound tome. “Grimey, wake up!”

She conjured a quill from thin air – its dark plume shimmering. Though no inkpot was in sight, the quill glowed with crackling energy. She knelt – more like half-fell – onto the slick, heaving deck, using one arm to brace herself while scribbling runic symbols right onto the wood. Magical, sapphire-tinted ink bloomed under the quill’s tip with every flourish, forming swirling shapes and archaic letters.

The spell book hovered in midair, bobbing, caught in the same wild gusts that plagued the sails. A caricature of a mouth appeared upon the book’s cover, stretching and contorting in disapproval. Then came its high-pitched, scolding voice.

“I knew it! I knew it!” the book squeaked indignantly. “You just had to try your hand at advanced spatial manipulation in the middle of a raging storm, didn’t you? You never listen, Miss Faye. I told you to perfect your runic geometry first—”

“Oh, hush, Grimey,” Faye groaned, pressing a knee into the trembling deck to keep from sliding. Her cheeks flushed, more from exertion than embarrassment. “If you have a better idea, speak now, or kindly let me concentrate.”

Grimey let out an affronted harrumph. “Better idea, you say? I was the one who told you to anchor your portals to stable terrain, not to mention practicing for more than an afternoon—”

Lightning sizzled across the sky, and a thunderclap cut through the spell book’s rant.

Elle found herself biting her lip. She couldn’t decide whether it was more surreal that a magical book scolded her friend or that they were about to attempt an untested teleportation spell in the middle of a furious tempest. Probably both.

“Faye,” Liori urged, her voice quivering only slightly as she tried to steady them all with her healing magic. “We need to hurry. The longer we wait, the farther we drift from Elytheris. And who knows how long Kali and Aer can hold out.”

“All right,” Faye said, exhaling shakily. She set the quill aside and placed her palm flat on the deck where the runes glowed faintly. “Grimey, link runic sequence Alpha-Seven-Four to the anchor glyph. It’s now or never.”

Grimey sputtered. “Alpha-Seven-Four? Oh, dear heavens, not that one. The risk of accidental dispersion is—”

“Now!” Faye snapped, eyes blazing. A swirl of arcane energy spiraled from the book’s cover, feeding into the fresh symbols on the deck. The lines of ink began to pulse, each rune lighting up in a chain reaction, humming in a shrill crescendo reverberating through the boards beneath Elle’s feet.

Elle’s heart hammered. She steadied Liori, and Liori tightened her grip on Faye. Together, the three women formed a desperate knot on the tilting deck, each bracing the other against the crashing waves and the unknown force of the spell.

“Are you sure this will work?” Elle yelled over the roar of magic, the vibrations shooting up her legs, rattling her bones.

Faye clenched her jaw. “Sure? No. Do I have a choice?” She closed her eyes. “Everyone, hold on!”

Almost immediately, the runes sparked with jagged arcs of pale blue light. Elle’s vision blurred; the world tilted in on itself, like looking through a warped piece of glass. The deck, the rigging, and the raging storm wavered as if reality was bending. For one terrifying heartbeat, Elle was weightless. She feared she might drift off into the swirling maelstrom of wind and water.

“Faye, watch out!” Liori’s voice cut through the din. One of the loose ropes from the rigging cracked like a whip, nearly striking Faye across the back of her head. Liori flung up a hand, sending a small burst of shimmering, golden energy that deflected the rope, sparing Faye by a hair’s breadth.

Faye didn’t even open her eyes. Her concentration was funneled into those glowing runes on the deck. Her lips moved in a silent incantation, the wind tearing at her dark hair. Grimey had gone quiet, the glyphs around its floating form pulsing erratically as it poured everything into stabilizing Faye’s half-finished teleportation spell.

Something shifted under Elle’s feet as the entire ship’s deck had momentarily vanished. She let out a gasp as her body felt insubstantial, and in that heartbeat, she thought they might tumble away into oblivion. Then came another deafening crack of thunder, another burst of salt spray across her face, and the sensation of the solid deck slamming back into place beneath her boots. With a final, ear-splitting snap, the runes fizzled out. The swirl of energy dissipated like a puff of smoke, leaving a faint scorched pattern on the boards.

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Faye sagged, drained, clutching at Liori and Elle to stay upright.

“It…didn’t…work?” she croaked, voice rough with disappointment and exhaustion. The wizard glanced around wildly, expecting to find they had jumped elsewhere, anywhere. Still, the same storm-lashed deck surrounded them, the same howling wind, the same terrifying pitch of the ship’s bow rising and falling against colossal swells.

Grimey spun in agitated circles, its magical mouth flapping open and closed. “I told you! Alpha-Seven-Four was doomed to fail under these conditions!” it shrilled. “We can’t anchor properly to a moving surface, especially one surrounded by chaotic energy—”

“Stop talking,” Faye mumbled, cheeks burning, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. Whether from frustration or the salt spray, Elle couldn’t be sure.

At that moment, a distant crash came from the decks below. The sound was a brutal reminder that they had no time to dwell on a failed teleportation attempt. They were still imprisoned aboard The Silver Horizon, caught in a storm seemingly conjured by an unknown foe.

Elle set her jaw. “Okay… that’s plan A gone. We need a plan B.”

Liori took a shaky breath, her gaze flicking between Faye’s exhausted face and the chaos around them. She opened her mouth, but a shrill, violent gust cut her off, the wind slamming into them again.

Just as Elle tried to figure out their next move, the sounds of raised voices and the thunder of distant drums filtered across the stormy waters. Straining to see through the haze of rain, she made out glimmering lights – numerous small silhouettes weaving rapidly in the dark. A fleet of sleek, elven war boats was approaching from the harbor’s direction; their white sails tinged silver and gold under flickers of lightning.

A chorus of amplified elven voices erupted, resonating across the waves, carried by magic.

“Return the Orb of Astralyth, and we will consider letting you die with honor.”

Elle froze, every hair standing on end. Her heart hammered as she thought of the star-blessed relic, a powerful artifact protected in secret since the founding of Elytheris. The Orb was rumored to be a direct gift from the star goddess, meant to guard and guide their realm through eons. The knowledge of its very existence was guarded by a select few – royalty and the highest heads of state.

“How did they—” Liori stammered, her voice laced with alarm. “They’re saying the humans stole it?”

“I don’t know.” Elle’s voice wavered as disbelief flared within her. “Unless…someone on this ship learned of the Orb—and now they’ve taken it.”

The wind whipped her words away, and rain hammered against the deck. Behind them, the battered remains of Faye’s teleportation glyphs glowed faintly in the darkness, quickly washing out under the downpour.

Before she could voice the question, a sudden, clear voice—enhanced by the same amplifying magic—cut the air again: Commander Thalion Brightblaed. Elle recognized that clipped, authoritative tone immediately.

“You have nowhere to run! Return the Orb now, and you may yet find the mercy of Aelindra!”

Shouts rang out from the other elven war boats, and Elle spotted faint glimmers of runic wards forming around their hulls. The elves’ sails snapped in perfect unison, a testament to their disciplined seamanship. They were closing quickly, forming a blockade, bows and ballistae aimed directly at The Silver Horizon.

“Hey! We’re on this ship! Be careful! We didn’t steal anything!” Faye shouted into the wind, though her voice was likely lost to the raging storm and the distance. She squinted, trying to see if any sign of her protest had been heard, but the howling gale and crashing waves swallowed every syllable.

Elle ground her teeth, knowing the Thornbound would not hesitate to sink this ship.

Her thoughts were cut short by an immense crash from the lower deck like wet timber snapping apart. She spun around just in time to see a monstrous purple-grey tentacle, thick as an ancient oak’s trunk, burst straight through the boards. Waterlogged planks splintered in every direction, and the deck groaned in protest. Seawater sluiced through the jagged opening left behind.

“Oh no,” Liori breathed, eyes wide with horror. “Here?”

An ear-splitting, low-pitched, and otherworldly shriek reverberated beneath the storm’s cacophony, sending tremors through every plank of The Silver Horizon. The tentacle, covered in glistening suckers as large as shields, thrashed wildly, ripping through rigging and smashing a bulkhead as if it were made of straw.

Faye backed away, her voice cracking as she shouted, “Everybody—get away from the hole!” She still clutched her spell book, which bobbed anxiously at her side, its magical mouth opening and closing as if gasping in terror.

More tentacles slammed against the hull. One came crashing over the ship’s railing, leaving a slick, purple trail of sea slime. The storm churned around them, wind and rain lashing harder as if even nature itself recoiled from the beast’s emergence.

From above, distant alarm calls rang out from the elven war boats. Elle glimpsed flashes of arcane light as archers strung glowing arrows and mages weaved spells to combat the monster. The Kraken’s presence threatened every vessel in range, ally and enemy alike.

A jolt of urgency snapped through Elle. Gritting her teeth, she gestured for Liori and Faye. “You two—try to get the helm under control! I’m going back for Aer and Kali! And—if we can’t stop the Kraken somehow, this ship’s doomed regardless!”

Liori’s face paled. “But, Elle—”

“We’ll be fine,” Elle insisted, though fear gnawed at her. “Just—go. And if you get a moment, try to wave down Commander Brightblaed.”

Her words barely carried over the howling wind and the thunder of the Kraken’s onslaught. Another vicious slam caused the mast to shudder; the rigging snapped like a brittle thread. Faye nodded quickly. “We’ll find a way! Grimey, be useful for once—start scanning for any reference to Kraken banishment spells!”

The book let out an indignant sputter, but its spectral pages fluttered open, runic script flickering across them.

Before turning away, Elle said, “Stay safe. Both of you.”

Liori pressed a trembling hand to her heart. “You too.”

The princess dashed across the listing deck, fighting the ship’s violent lurches. She braced against fallen rigging and swaying crates, all while sidestepping the ever-growing hole the Kraken tentacle had ripped into the deck. Each time a fresh limb of the creature slapped the wood, the entire ship lurched anew, and Elle’s heart threatened to leap into her throat.

Finally, she stumbled down half-broken stairs toward the corridor leading to the captain’s quarters. Flickering lanterns swung overhead, casting twisted shadows on the walls. She forced herself onward, acutely aware that a monstrous Kraken attacked from below, a contingent of elven war ships advanced from behind, and the Orb of Astralyth might be at the heart of this nightmare.