It was like being stabbed with a pin. Thirty-six pins. It barely registered, rebounding from Shield Twelve without incident – but it was annoying. Of far greater danger was the threat of being struck, by the ship itself. They weren’t on a direct collision course such that the sharp bow of the bony goliath would actually hit us, but the swell of its wake would capsize us, and its hull would crush us…

Then I noticed what the captain was doing, and turned to float across the deck towards him. My shields were expansive-enough that I could cross the middle of the ship without putting any part of it in peril, so long as I didn’t head towards the bow or stern, which would leave the other end undefended…

“You ah an ach-soseror?” Rellos breathed, purple eyes fixed on me in wonder as I flew past her.

I didn’t respond, determined to reach the captain and a few of his closest crewmen, who were busy trying to throw themselves over the side – not in suicide attempts, but to jump in the rowing boat.

“Quit that!” I berated them, wagging a finger. “We’ll need you, once we’re out of this. They’d only catch you anyway.”

The idiots only cast me a single glance, then went straight back to untying the ropes holding the rowing boat fast to the side of the Scaleshaker.

I carefully placed Butcherking right on top of the most-difficult knot.

He grinned at them, waving his dangerous fingers, and the sailors recoiled, turning back to me now with shocked expressions.

“Ach-mage!” Rellos hissed.

I looked over my shoulder, only to freeze in terror.

The floating glacier of bone and purple magic had halted, as suddenly and silently as it had appeared – and now a single round opening appeared, like the previous ones, on the port hull looming directly in front of us. Except this opening was big.

Really big.

And instead of a spear, a vast, wizened rod of wood was slid forth – its curling tip aimed down at us –

A humming sound filled the air, rising in pitch, faster and faster –

Oh gods.

The first blast of ice emitted by the tree-sized wand went right through Shield Twelve and Eleven, finally disintegrating against Shield Ten, leaving a sheen of white frost on the air for an instant. I quickly repaired the damaged barrier and recreated Shield Eleven –

BrrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR –

The second frostbolt was bigger: the frozen lance it evoked had to be ten feet wide, fifty feet long, jagged at the tip like a flint arrowhead.

Eleven, Ten and Nine went down. The sheen of white frost was bigger, far more daunting, a gleaming blanket of elemental power lingering in the emptiness between us.

No. No. No.

I won’t be taken again.

“What’s the betting they’ve only got one of them?” I murmured.

Even without vampiric abilities, I could feel the eyes of those around me fixed on me as I focussed, pointed, and snapped my fingers.

I only managed to get Shield Ten back online in time for the next blast, and it ripped through so many of my barriers it took me a moment to realise just how close we’d come to dying. Shield Four, the pentagon, caught the last of it, and it was no mere sheen of frost hanging there this time.

Several tons of ice was whipped about by my rotating shape, spraying out across the deck.

But in sacrificing my shields I’d managed to strategically place a trio of crimson flames in the air – just above the wizened tip of the wand.

I put Mr. Cuddlesticks, the heaviest-looking, at the very end where it twisted and tapered, the mystical weapon looking barely two feet thick. Then Mrs. Cuddlesticks, and finally Junior.

It was reinforced against ordinary breakages. Tougher than a tree its girth. Tougher than metal, even, maybe. It didn’t snap as they landed on it, but the cracking sound was audible even from here.

I rebuilt the shield, smiling.

BRRRRRRRRRRRR –

Before the fourth strike could take place, the orange-glowing hammers of my demons achieved my goal. The ice-wand didn’t look like it enjoyed what was probably its first ever taste of fire-magic. The whole thing splintered up the middle – eyes narrowed, I picked out the shapes of the three bintaborax and waved at them –

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

A blue explosion ripped its way through the hull, and for a moment I exulted – until the fluorescent smoke cleared and I saw the minimal damage it’d caused. We’d put a dint in the side of the ship. An explosion that would’ve torn our ship to shreds, and it made a depression. I could only hope the explosion had made more of an impact on the interior of the hull… On the outside, nethernal energies just started coating the crater, like a quick-forming scab over a wound.

I turned aside. I’d only just managed to move the demons out of the way in time, resummoning them to a point just over the water beside the Scaleshaker – I kept moving them back up and letting them fall again so that I could give them a quick once-over, examine them for injuries before returning them to the Twelve Hells. They looked a bit frosty, but were otherwise quite intact. Satisfied, I thanked them in Infernal and waved them away.

Only then did I realise that I was still feeling it – the eyes on me.

“What?” I fixed the grin in place, looking about. “Can’t everyone juggle demons?”

I laughed at my audience’s shocked expressions and got to work. Within seconds I’d repaired the tattered shields and reinforced them like never before. By the time I was done I was sweaty, my hands were shaking; I shouldn’t have kept bringing the demons out like that, should’ve trusted to their durability. I hadn’t used my powers this intensely for quite some time and I was a little out of practice… nonetheless I remained confident. Eagerness easily made up for a spent Wellspring.

We were still moving, slowly crossing in front of the bony behemoth, crashing through the waves – a chaos of sound which now felt like an eerie silence. Where were the harpoons? Would they attempt to board our boat instead?

Then an amplified elven voice rang down from the warship, splitting the silence with a cool, crisp monotone. There wasn’t just derision in the tone. That would be to assume some semblance of equality between two parties, however disjointed. This wasn’t like a noble talking to lesser folk. It was a master talking to a badly-behaved hound. An errant puppy. An annoying wasp.

“Avri cin cenothen, jhilavri son denominen.”

“In ci qothi!” Rellos cried back. “Di simmon cin Diphroinen!”

There was a pause, a reminder that the waves were crashing loudly by us, and then the voice came again.

“Half-People. We demand its archmage’s bones. Strike off its fingers and tongue. Give them to us and we shall allow it to depart.”

All the eyes fell back on me again.

“If you all want to die,” I grated, “hand me over. They wouldn’t be asking for me if I wasn’t being a pain in their ass.” I glared at the captain, who was eyeing me mistrustfully. “Your best way out of this is with me right here.”

Rellos was nodding in agreement. The idiot captain’s expression never changed.

I looked back up at the glacier of bone, cupped my hands around my mouth and augmented my voice with Zab’s power.

“Aw, didn’t you fork out for malicious damage cover when you took out giant freaking wand insurance? Bet someone’s kicking themselves now! You must think we’re right clods, eh? You withdraw now, and I won’t come up there! You’ve got thirty seconds to comply, or I’m coming looking for you personally, smarmy git.”

Jaid and Jaroan came running up onto the deck. It was nice to see that, in times of crisis, even Jar did still care for me.

“No way!” he was shouting. “Not again! You’re staying right here!” He marched up to me, Jaid hot on his heels.

I ducked my head in agreement, giving them a hard smile. It wasn’t like I actually wanted to go up there… was it?

Was it all bone inside? Would I float through corridors shaped from glued-together skeletons? I had to admit, I was curious.

And wouldn’t there be slaves in there? People not yet killed and reanimated, in need of my aid? How much agony was being experienced by the denizens of the warship? The dark elves worked those they enslaved to death – that’s what everyone always said. Couldn’t it turn out that the hull was packed with chained labourers, whipped, scourged into action, forced to drive the engines that beat in the heart of this wicked abomination?

I suddenly went cold inside, and when I returned my gaze to the warship I saw only a target for my rage.

“Last chance!” I roared, summoning my wings, preparing to lock my shields with the twins as their nexus. Jaroan didn’t want me to board their ship, but I could at least fly up, get a better view of the gigantic vessel – intimidate them a bit –

The moment I started the gesture that would seal the shields in place, the horn split the misty air:

Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-ha…

And slowly, ever so slowly, the warship began to move again, steering at once to the side as if to curl away behind us, head the other direction.

Bit by bit, the starboard hull of the bone-mountain was exposed to us as we slipped past each other. Before too long, it’d vanished into the evening mist.

I walked towards the stern of the ship, then leaned on the rail at the very rear of the Scaleshaker, peering out into the clouds of Northril, keeping our protective barriers at maximum efficiency. The last thing I’d want would be for them to turn around, chase us down with their supernatural speed and start ripping us to shreds without warning.

The second-to-last thing I’d want would be for them to get away.

The excitement only lasted for about another twenty minutes, and, after trying to pester me with questions and getting basically nowhere, most of my interrogators retired before too long. The winds weren’t strong, but night on Northril was bad enough as it was, and sometimes the breeze picked up, seeping across the deck like the breath of a frost giant – few were able to endure it without good cause. Jaroan had gone back to his old self within a minute or two, and Jaid was sleepy.

Then I was alone at the stern, just a few nearby sailors and the constellations for company.

They weren’t particularly perceptive, man or god. I fancied my chances.

Soon I was alone over the sea, enwraithed, floating over the waves, waiting until I was farther from the Scaleshaker to bring out my wings again.

And when I dried out and found my bed that night, it was with a satisfied smile on my face that I went to sleep. The dreams weren’t of bone corridors and unchained slaves singing my praises, but of floating invisibly above varnished black woods and lush sheepskin rugs… dismembered kraken and bubbling green oil… hordes of undead mown down, reduced to inanimate parts, a chunky meal of unliving flesh… pale-skinned, blue-haired elves running, hiding from the unseen monster stalking them, their beautiful lips drawn back in animal screams, corpses clad in plum-purple and silver and blood.