Chapter 14
The Raid
“Floyd! Krysta! Sound off!”
Terrill’s cough might have been lost in the din of battle, and his attempt to push up from the ground concealed by smoke and flames, but he screamed their names nonetheless. The bombardment that had taken them off-guard was quickly filling the air with acrid smoke that hid the beaches and cove below. Also hidden were the ships aiming their broadsides at the shore. Terrill couldn’t see anything in front or behind him, and when he was on his feet, he stumbled, almost tripping over some rocks. His hand went for his sword, and he yanked it out, hacking as he did so.
“Guys! Answer me!” Terrill yelled, hoping to get through to them. His hand waved aside some of the smoke infesting his eyes, causing them to water with tears. There was a crunch downhill from him, and Terrill knew they would soon not be alone. With another cough, he began to search through the billowing black cloud.
“I’m here!” Krysta groaned, but she sounded muffled. “Terrill, get this rock off of me!”
It took a couple more seconds of searching, but Terrill found her near a pile of rubble that the blast had created. As her complaints indicated, she was trapped under a rock. By all accounts, she looked uninjured, but the rest of her was pinned in place. Terrill never let go of his sword, but made his way to the stone, planting his feet and lifting with as much strength as he could muster. His fingers could feel the quality of rock underneath, this whole new world of mastery towards his magic presenting its infinite nature to him as he did. Krysta only needed a little time, and once Terrill had raised it enough, she shimmied out to safety. She was unharmed.
The same couldn’t be said for Floyd.
“Guys…I can’t move my leg here!” Krysta was the first to locate his voice, swatting aside smoke until they reached where he was splayed on the ground. His leg looked an utter mess, with pieces of rubble clinging to the blood and burns. The rest of him was fine, but his grimacing face communicated the pain he was in. “Can you do that light thing where you heal me?”
“I can, but…the stones would stay there,” Krysta said.
Through the smoke and dust, Floyd found Terrill, and his eyes communicated his plea. It was a long shot, but Terrill bent at the boy’s side, touching his leg. His hand was imprinted with Floyd’s blood, but inside all of that, he could feel the gravel that was invading his brutalized appendage. The voices were coming closer.
“I’ll try.” Krysta took guard, having heard the voices as well. As Terrill ran his hands along, he tried to get a feel for all of the pieces of stone that were inside, locating each one with as much pinpoint accuracy as he could. Connect with the magic inside your soul. Help Floyd and pull them out. Pull! Stones, obey me!
His whole hand shook, but he could soon feel it as he did back at the Academy, that invisible string that tied him to all the stones. As a marionette playing puppet, Terrill yanked forward, sending all of the stones flying away from Floyd, leaving nothing but flesh, blood and sinew. Krysta turned to get to work, and no sooner had she done so, than the flash of a sword was seen.
Terrill parried as soon as he could, the assailant’s sword bouncing off his own. The smoke was starting to clear, but still obscured the one who had attacked. All he really saw was the man’s bandana and scimitar before he kicked said man in the chest and sent him rolling down the hill. Another took his place, and for this one, Terrill took the strike head on, letting the blade glance off before he twisted around and jabbed his sword through his attacker’s shoulder. Their bodies twisted around, and with a crack, Terrill stomped on the man’s foot. He let him go, but yet another was coming at Terrill, and he didn’t have the time to block.
A blast of light, sharp as a spear, split the smoky darkness, letting the sun shine upon them once again as the newest attacker was hit. Krysta’s light did the trick, sending the third man to join his comrades. With the smoke gone, Terrill could see they weren’t through this advance party of pirates, not any time soon. The only positive was that Floyd was standing, testing out his leg as he unsheathed his daggers from his waist.
“How long were we down there?” he said, his voice biting. His unhappiness at being injured was palpable, but Terrill could tell something more consuming was on his mind.
“Looks like at least a day. Though how could those ships get here so fast?”
“The better question is why they’re here and why now,” Krysta said. Her own rapier was withdrawn, and the scouting pirates had almost discovered their fallen comrades. Terrill already guessed at the answer, but with their enemies having spotted them, he wasn’t prepared to share.
He was on the attack.
Terrill’s mind was in overdrive, calling to the earth beneath his feet, and with a stomp, he sent it racing outwards. Rather than one large spire, it was a series of spikes that churned at the ground. Some of the pirates dodged to the side upon seeing the attack coming, but at least one got caught by it, tripping over his feet and getting bruised by them. He was out of the fight, but his companions, two female pirates wielding wicked maces, were screaming as they charged.
“Yah!” Krysta hit before they could, her rapier shining with light. She thrust it, and it sent a sharp burst, like an arrow that cut through the space and dotted the first’s shoulder. She cried, and her mace missed its mark. Krysta threw her barrier up and pushed it forward, bashing the woman in the chin and sending her flying back down towards the coast.
For Terrill, he dodged the heavy mace that hit the ground with force, leaving a sizable hole behind. Enough to smash his head in, were it to hit. Terrill moved first, his sword cleaving the air to slash at her side. The wound made her stumble back, clasping to it and leaving herself defenseless. Terrill’s fist clenched, the earth obeying as he lifted a plinth upwards, just as Clay had. This slammed into her stomach and sent her to join her comrade down below, while the other incapacitated pirates groaned but remained where they were.
The immediate threat having passed, Terrill noticed some higher rocks to the side, and he climbed them in order to get a better look at the beach.
It was mayhem now that he could get above the smoke and dust. The two ships flying the flag of the pirates had stopped their bombardment, but it meant no relief for the wounded and injured on the beaches, waiting for a ship to take them home. The one in the cove appeared to have long since departed. Pirates had stormed the coast, stomping all over the few soldiers that were stationed there. Tents were burning, smoke was rising, and hauls of what seemed like jewels were being loaded on the smaller of the two ships.
Just as easy to spot was her. Having made her return, the woman was ordering the pirates with ease. There was no doubt she was behind the entire debacle, right down to the timing. Terrill resisted the urge to hit something, saving his frustration for the enemies he intended to engage. She had planned it perfectly, bringing him to the mines, knowing he’d descend, and sending her other, more fiendish lackey to engage them and keep them occupied while she could ready an assault.
Two birds, one stone. All to start a war.
“The mayor…” he breathed, realizing the target all along.
His eyes flew towards the mayor’s tent, finding it crumpled in, the papers and documents that had been held there scattering to the sea breeze. Nothing could have survived what had happened there, indicated by the two soldiers, unstirring, that lay atop the broken tent. That didn’t seem to be a problem for the mayor and his daughter, who Terrill found, thanks to the gaggle of pirates that remained outside, watching their smoldering handiwork with hearty guffaws. The mayor was bound by rope tightly, on his knees, while Torry was hoisted over one man’s shoulders, clearly unconscious.
The mayor could be seen saying something, though Terrill could not say what.
All that he could tell was that he was slapped and thrown to the ground by a man bedecked in crude armor, biting into a fruit that he flicked at the mayor’s face. Most of the pirates laughed and cajoled at the fate of Serotin’s leader. Even from that distance, Terrill could tell the armored man was smirking.
He could also tell it was this man that called the shots.
This, Terrill began to figure, was the one they called LeBrandon: a ruffian of a man with grizzled locks of black hair and a disheveled state that suggested one used to ruling with ruthless cunning. The rest of his attire suggested, however, that he was not a man used to war, but to ambushes that suited him so, for he held no worry about being attacked by anyone. For good reason, Terrill imagined, either from lack of experience or something more.
Floyd had decided to test that theory.
“TORRY!” he screamed, racing down the hillside. He, too, had seen the pirates in possession of the girl and her father, and any measure of control was lost to him.
Terrill didn’t require Krysta’s shout and warning. He leapt from the outcropping of rock, skidding down the stone and sand. Krysta joined him and they pursued Floyd with all the speed they could muster.
“I healed his wounds, but I don’t know if he can keep pushing on. I can’t restore stamina.”
“He’s an idiot.”
Some pirates that were looting a store of weapons near the edge of the hillside, between them and the mayor’s tent, looked up in time to see the two approaching. They went to grab their own arms, but Krysta struck first. No preamble and no fancy maneuvers were necessary as she flicked her hand and the shot of light sent them sprawling backwards into the grouping of pirates where LeBrandon stood. Floyd was leaping through the air.
“Let them go!” he shouted, both his blades out and plunging towards the pirate commander’s head. Terrill could see the disaster just waiting to happen. “Torry!”
“Out of my way, boy. I’ve no time for you.” LeBrandon’s voice was deep, like the rumbling of a thunderstorm. Indeed, the very skies above appeared to darken as he spoke, his eyes narrowed in pitiless fashion while he regarded the descending Floyd.
Time began to slow from Floyd’s actions, the air grown chill, but Terrill knew it wouldn’t be enough. LeBrandon had slowed, to be certain, but the pirate commander was still faster. Before Floyd could make it, water swirled around the enemy to the cheers of his men, egging on the fight that was developing. Whether Floyd’s eyes had widened or not, Terrill would never quite know, but he knew the boy had realized his folly. Terrill worked to mitigate it, slamming a hand on the ground to erect a shield.
The water burst from LeBrandon’s form, a mail of storms that Floyd collided with. Screaming loudly, he was sent hurtling through the air. Floyd’s body was braced against Terrill’s shield, rolling down it, as both Terrill and Krysta ran from either side of it, their blades flashing out to strike the storm mail.
“Break it!” Terrill shouted. LeBrandon’s snarl was meant for him, but Terrill focused on what Krysta was doing. She placed her hand against the cutting mail of whirling water, surrounding it with a light barrier, and then she fired a blast of light. It exploded, sending all three combatants backwards. Floyd pushed himself up, his mouth opening to scream for Torry while LeBrandon’s water receded.
“You’ve broken my mail…” The snarl became a scowl, and Terrill saw the pirate commander’s teeth begin to grind. “Who are you, interfering with such a carefully laid plan?”
No one said a word. Terrill waited for the next move, though none came. Not in the form of an attack, at least.
“He’s the hero, Commander LeBrandon, sir.” The voice irked Terrill to no end, and he felt his blood boil when he laid eyes upon the woman. She had teleported in her usual gust of wind atop the wreckage of the tent. “The one destined to fight the Shadow King.”
“Is that so?” Terrill had no idea what she meant by that, and even less an idea of why LeBrandon was reacting with an unadulterated grin. “So, destiny is decided today! It’s no wonder you chose here and now for our strike!”
“I don’t give a crap about that! Let Torry go!” Floyd was charging forward yet again. This time, he didn’t even make it to LeBrandon as a wall of wind rebuffed him, sending him flying against Terrill’s earthen shield. The woman descended in space with a light wind, acting as her own form of shield for LeBrandon and his men.
“I think it’s time you boys get the precious cargo out of here!”
“You heard Captain Winifred! Move it!”
“You’d best go, too, LeBrandon,” the woman, or Winifred, warned to her commander. Not that Terrill believed he was her commander in any sense. Every word she spoke oozed the fact that she was the one pulling the strings. It was becoming apparent as to just why very quickly. “After all, you cannot topple an empire unless you have a fortress to keep the king safe.”
“So you have told me, but I’m itching for action. Just one battle will do. Just one battle for the Shadow King to assert his dominance!” The grin had increased twofold, and Krysta retracted from the presence of darkness now radiating off the man. Terrill, too, began to recoil while he saw the smirk upon Winifred’s face widen. It was as if some ambition on her part was being fulfilled, and many questions for her returned. Nevertheless, Terrill focused on the now and the threat that was LeBrandon before them.
“Oh, if you must play. But don’t take too long. I will not be taking too much time to pass the message to Serotin. Which reminds me! Boys!” Winifred skipped off gaily, the confident smirk never fading from her lips as she stood before the mayor, who was being dragged along the ground. She bent down, harshly grabbing a hand of his and ripping one of his rings off. “I believe your soldiers deserve a souvenir! Now haul ‘em away, and make sure the girl doesn’t wake up. Hurry up, seadogs!”
“Aye, Captain Winifred!”
She vanished into thin air the second they began lugging their cargo off. Floyd coughed, ready to give pursuit again, even though LeBrandon stood between them and their goal, shadows leaking off of his body.
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“That woman, always playing coy. Always interfering!” The sky crackled and thundered, a storm brewing over the continent of Silicias. It was darker than an average storm, Terrill reckoned, which he began to think had something to do with the shadows coming from him; ones all too similar to those restraining the Lifeblood of Earth below. The connection was too palpable to ignore, but ignore he did, in favor of the boasting, violent man before him. “I suppose I need to thank her, though. Through her joining of our ranks, she taught us greater magic. Greater plunder!
“And soon, her tactics will crown me king! Once I bring Serotin and its filthy mages to its knees!”
His war cry was an explosion of fury. The shadow burned outwards. Terrill lifted his sword, but it could do nothing to block the onslaught. The darkness seared his skin, attempting to burn away all form of light or magic. Krysta, herself, didn’t bother with blocking, running away from the storm of darkness. As the initial attack faded, Terrill got a more appropriate look at LeBrandon.
His grin was one of manic pleasure, his eyes shrunken in with wickedness. To Terrill, he had become little more than a beast, set in his desires. The shadow that lay upon him only grew in malevolence.
Worse than that, Terrill felt it was familiar. That scared him most of all.
In all of this, the pirates were escaping with Torry and her father, causing Floyd to become ever more desperate. His body was close to running out of steam, but for her, it was obvious he would move the earth without magic. The only problem was the wall between them and the pirates.
And LeBrandon was a wall, his mail of storms whirling about his figure once more while a bloody, fluid claymore manifested in his hands. Terrill grimaced as he prepared for the fight, though his limbs screamed of the pain they were in. It was just him, too, as Krysta had bent to examine the fallen soldiers, shaking her head. He found himself growling over the devastation the pirates had wrought.
“And for what?” he seethed. “King, huh? So that’s why you’re attacking passenger ships, and crippling people who have done nothing to you.”
“Nothing? They are anathema to us!” LeBrandon cried. He swung his claymore, unnatural in its wavering state. Shadows exploded from the end of it with a wave of water that split the earth. Terrill managed to avoid it, seeing his chance to charge the man. His sword cut a wide arc in the air, connecting with the storm mail. It sounded like a grinder that was broken off its calibration, screeching in the air with a sound most horrible. Still, Terrill persisted. “They trod us underfoot for our lack of capability and magic! So, we steal and take for ourselves, but it is not enough! Not enough! We need more!”
“Take your more, but leave other people out of it!” Terrill had no option but to remove a hand from his hilt and aim its newly-formed fist for LeBrandon’s face. The mail was there, too, and Terrill knew it would hurt. He tried to channel his magic, hoping to manifest the stones around it, but was unsuccessful. The water ripped at his knuckles, and his blood-soaked hold on his sword weakened. The claymore was lifted.
“Ha-yah!” Floyd had come sailing in, having vaulted off one of Krysta’s shields. His foot connected with LeBrandon’s arm, sending the claymore off its deadly course. The action permitted Terrill a follow-through, slashing up and making a chink in the remade mail. He leapt back, while Floyd landed on the other side. The boy’s breathing was heavy, but he still had some stamina left. “You got this, Terrill!”
Terrill wasn’t going to argue, not when Floyd was already racing off at top speed to try and catch up with the pirates that were nearly upon their ship. LeBrandon saw, and with accuracy, he struck. His claymore became a whip that latched on to Floyd’s leg and sent him tumbling to the ground. The sadistic grin ignited fury inside Terrill.
He gave no cry as he jumped upwards, whirling his blade around to bring it crashing down. LeBrandon saw, stepping back, but Terrill wasn’t aiming for him…not directly at least.
“Fangs!” he shouted. At his command, the earth yielded. A straight line of spikes formed, numerous and jagged. It made the ground uneven, churning its way to LeBrandon’s feet and pitching him downwards. His watery armor wavered, and his whip detached from Floyd’s feet, permitting the boy to kick up the sand with his limbs and run onward.
Then Krysta came, her mouth a grim line as she plunged downward with her rapier, shimmering with a powerful light. There was no hesitation, and Terrill yelled for her to stop; pirate or not, they weren’t about to end him. Not when there was much more to learn.
It made little difference, as the second the tip of her blade struck, a gust of wind, more powerful than anything the armor had produced before, soared outward. Krysta was thrown back by the gale, and Terrill leapt across stones to catch her, the two of them tumbling to the ground. Terrill sprung right back up, bending low.
“Aha! Ahahahaha! Such power! Truly the power of destiny!” LeBrandon stood again, and the storm crashed even louder above. Lightning struck from the heavens, scorching the already burned beach. The sky opened up and rain started to fall, making LeBrandon’s armor swirl with yet wilder patterns. With every step he took forward, his feet squelched and the pirate looked crazier by the second. Floyd had escaped, almost becoming invisible through the rain sheets of the thunderstorm, but it still left Terrill and Krysta to deal with the pirate commander.
“What’s wrong with him?” Krysta gasped out. She was clasping to her upper arm, though showed no signs of bleeding. For that, Terrill was grateful. “It’s like he’s a mindless beast.”
“Beast? No, I am king!” LeBrandon roared. He thrashed about, his claymore turning all of the rain droplets into sharp needles that threatened to impale them. Terrill dropped lower, both hands grasping the wet sand. Between them and the pirate, an earthen shield was erected, and both could hear the sound of the water spears impacting on the other side of the thick slab. “KING!”
The stone broke apart, flying every way it could and crashing along the beach with the thunder. Terrill flinched, hoping his makeshift shield hadn’t hurt any of those recovering; it was impossible to tell where anyone was. LeBrandon stepped forward, the shadows leaking from him. Krysta took a step back, swallowing. LeBrandon truly looked crazed and mindless, never impeding his forward progression, even for the flare that shone through the lightning.
Terrill’s grip shook, a sickness pooling in him at the pirate’s menace. The darkness was deep surrounding this “king”, much like another’s darkness. The memory floated back to the surface, of the wicked king who knew nothing but destruction, and of the shouts between Lumen, Charles and Atrum.
This is my role! I will fulfill it here!
An ever-useful tool!
Save me! Terrill! I don’t want this! I want to defy my-
“Die, hero!” LeBrandon’s claymore of water came sailing downwards and Terrill threw his sword up to block. They clashed, spitting torrents upon the inundated beach. Some of the fog was clearing, and the pirates could be seen running to their ships while a couple soldiers held them off, and yet more tried to recover. Terrill pushed, his loose footing on the sand hardening to stone as he carried his attack through. LeBrandon’s eyes widened, and Terrill could see the madness within, reminding him of the grim, crazed lunacy that Golbrucht had.
He was a monster, with no thoughts but destruction.
Terrill would end it.
“Rend!” he shouted. With a swift movement, Terrill deflected the blade, sending the water spewing about the land. The sky split, the rainstorm ending as LeBrandon was knocked off-balance. Terrill changed his blade around and swung downward, cutting through the storm mail as a fist clenched to bring a clot of earth rising up.
It ultimately missed its mark.
No sooner had the impaling spike formed, than something ripped LeBrandon away from it, and out of the path of harm. The sky began to dissipate along with the watery armor, the thunderstorm coming to an end, but a gale was just beginning. In the eye of the windstorm that picked up, Terrill could see the woman had arrived again, holding tight to LeBrandon as his madness calmed.
“Must you interfere again, Winifred?!”
“I just saved you. I’d think thanks were in order,” she responded, flicking her long blonde locks out behind her. “The message is delivered now. I suggest a return to base before the armies of Serotin mobilize. After all, surely you want to know what fate has laid out so that you can crush your enemies. I’m sure Miss Academy Expert has all the answers.”
The dark shadow receded from around LeBrandon, and the man returned to a semblance of normality. Or so Terrill assumed; he’d never seen the man before and couldn’t assume what passed as “normal” for him.
“Yes. Of course. Let us be off. We must prepare for the coronation!” Winifred spared no words. Just a glance in Terrill’s direction, and a dare in her eyes: follow me, if you can.
Terrill flashed his blade, as did Krysta. Though their bodies were heavy and soaked, they ran for the woman and her cohort, endlessly bragging about the great thing they intended to accomplish. Together, the two struck at Winifred, but she was gone in a burst of wind, making them stumble into one another.
“Where did she go?!” Krysta shouted. Her face was contorted, her lips spluttering. Terrill cast his own eyes, taking in the devastation of the shoreline. Many of the miners and mercenaries were huddled in bleeding masses. Some were trying to help others but many more were wounded, lying there screaming. A few of the mercenaries that had managed to remain uninjured from the earlier debacle were trying to help, but few had any semblance of medical expertise.
Terrill kicked at the sand, feeling useless as he watched the injured. Krysta, for all of the miracles of healing she’d performed in the last twenty-four hours alone, wouldn’t be able to handle the numbers. She didn’t even seem predisposed to, her own targets now set on Winifred, the missing woman. Terrill, too, was desperate to find her.
She made it all too easy.
With another gust, the bigger of the pirate ships shook and rocked, both herself and LeBrandon appearing atop it. The pirates from earlier, carrying the precious cargo of mayor and daughter both, were ascending the makeshift ramp to the deck. Trailing behind them, his limbs floundering on the sand, was Floyd. His voice rose above all others.
“Torry! TORRY!” he was shouting. Some soldiers deviated in their attention, looking to back him up when they realized their mayor was taken, but they were too far behind. “Let her go! Let her-”
A cannon from a smaller ship fired, blowing apart the ground in front of Floyd. He and the other soldiers were scattered. Floyd looked to have ended up better off, but was still caked in sand and minor burns. Terrill kept hold of his sword and dashed across the beach, his movement slowed by the wet sand. The cannons had stopped firing, ceasing their endless peppering of the continent, and each looked prepared to shove off and make their way home. Terrill sped up, begging his body to solidify the sand into a more even running surface, but finding himself too exhausted to do so.
As he got near Floyd, Terrill received a better picture of the grander pirate ship with its billowing black sails and ruthless crew aboard. The hostage party was finally up the ramp, the last of them kicking the board off to ensure there would be no pursuit. One dumped Torry on the deck as the corsairs laughed and jeered at her current condition. The mayor hit the deck next, but he crawled to the edge of the ship before the pirates could realize. Terrill stopped, bending low to Floyd as he struggled to pull himself up. Many of the soldiers were trying, and failing, as well.
“Get word to Serotin!” the mayor shouted, his voice ringing on the burning beach. Terrill snapped in the brave man’s direction, finding steely determination in his eyes, and a selfless care. The desire to protect him burned within Terrill all the brighter. “Do not let them send troops! I will be fine! Don’t let them-”
He was kicked in the head by an irate Winifred, knocking him out on the deck railing. “Idiots. Why wouldn’t you knock the mayor out? If they get word…”
“We’ll crush them either way! Men, back to base.” LeBrandon’s dominance towards his men was asserted over the woman, but if she cared, she covered it up with a shrug.
“No! Can’t…let them…go…”
“Floyd, stop. You’re going to aggravate your wounds,” Krysta said. Her own rage was contained, if just barely from the way her hands shook while she tended to the redhead. He strained to get up, but failed every time.
All he and the others could do was watch as a fierce wind surrounded the flagship of the pirates. It whirled and whipped and in moments had completely covered the ship in a ghostly, watery tornado. The smaller ship was pushed aside on the waves that were created, but remained floating just offshore.
When the winds subsided, LeBrandon, Winifred and their ship were gone.
“Torry… Damn it!” His wounds didn’t matter. Floyd punched the ground with all the speed and strength he could muster, pounding the sand until it was nothing but a mix of earth and blood. “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it all! What was the point?!”
His scream was ripping at his throat. He looked like he wanted to punch out anything and everything. The soldiers were in shock, some collapsing over having failed their duty to the mayor. Only a couple were attempting to pull themselves together.
“Someone pen a letter! We need to send word with the mayor’s message to Serotin as soon as possible!”
“We have no ship!”
“Then build a damn raft!” the first soldier yelled. “He gave us a task, and we shall not fail him with what we have been entrusted! I don’t care if we need to use rocks and blood to send a message. Get it there before a worse tragedy occurs!”
The trio was ignored thanks to those orders, squatting upon the sands. Most who remained were unmoving, but the soldiers ran to and fro without notice. In their chaos, Terrill was able to observe the only thing that mattered.
The other pirate ship was still floating. It wasn’t firing, or sailing away.
No, Terrill realized, it was waiting.
It wasn’t hard to realize what it was waiting for.
Terrill sucked in a breath, swinging his sword around and sheathing it. Destruction had visited Silicias, a mere taste of what the pirates intended for the rest of Serotin, and Sagitta. Perhaps the mayor and Torry as well. They wouldn’t stop, not with the woman and her Fiends pulling at the strings for whatever end. It would just be one attack after another, until the whole continent was embroiled in a new war.
“Why her?!” Floyd screamed. He grabbed a globule of sand, as much as he could hold in his hands, and threw it in the direction of the pirate ship. Then his body sunk, watching the sand join its fellow granules on the beach. After a moment, however, he realized the same thing Terrill did. With a begging in his eyes, Floyd faced Terrill, pulling his hands down. “We have to save her!”
“Floyd…” Krysta said softly. She tried to pull him away from Terrill, but he held on tight.
“That ship can take us there. We have to save Torry!” Terrill’s lips turned downward, realizing that at the end of it all, the only thing Floyd cared about was what suited Floyd. Still, he figured, there were many more that could be saved with that one action. “I know you’re not from this world and all, but she’s… We have to…”
“Otherworld or no is irrelevant to me, Floyd,” Terrill said. He was trained on the pirate ship, their time running short. “This is still the world I remember, anyway, but if you’re just in this to save Torry…”
“She’s what matters most, but if it means saving the mayor and Serotin and the Academy, then I’ll do all of it, too!” Floyd screamed. He dragged himself up using Terrill’s hands, his whole body shaking from the effort. “Please! I know I’ve said you’re stupid for it, but you call yourself a Guardian so…please. Help me protect her.”
Terrill gave off an audible breath at his first earnest and naked plea.
“Like I was going to say no.” Floyd’s breath hitched, and Terrill clasped his hand, making that promise to see things through. A smile grew on the redhead’s face, one which became all the wider as Krysta threw her own hand in the mix.
“Can’t let you boys go alone. I want to see that woman put in the dirt for all this, too.”
“We don’t have much time, though. Gotta work fast,” Terrill assured. They squeezed their hands tighter, their promise complete. “Floyd, that speed up trick you used back at Point Harbor. Can you pull it off?”
“It’ll take a lot out of me, but if we have a chance to rest for just a minute, I can make it happen. Hold on tight.”
Terrill and Krysta hooked their arms with Floyd, feeling the heat beginning to transfer through his entire body. Steam came off, making him look like a smokestack. His breath was haggard, the exhaustion and wounds catching up as he enacted his spell. This action caught the attention of the soldiers on the beach, particularly the one who had issued orders.
“Hey! Floyd! What do you think you’re-?”
“Let’s go!” they shouted.
There was a burst of wind atop the ship’s mast, Winifred having made yet another appearance to transport the sister ship to parts unknown. Floyd’s body shot forward, bringing the others with him. The steam poured out behind him in a visible trail, but none aboard the ship had realized yet, too busy preparing for their departure. The trio sped across the sands, nearing the edge of the water that separated them from their ultimate goal. There was only one shot.
Floyd didn’t slow down, and Terrill closed his eyes, focusing on the earth beneath their feet. More than ever before, his connection with it was palpable, as was the Lifeblood below. It urged him on in silence, pushing him towards that far-off goal. Terrill just focused on his immediate concern, and as their speed was all set to take them plunging into the water, his foot tapped to the sands.
A step of earth erupted from beneath them, and at their speed it flung them into the air, flying for the ship that began to have its windy wall surround it. The cannons remained pointing out, and the three of them were nearly upon the ship full of pirates. Terrill and Krysta grasped wildly, hoping to find something to hold to before they slammed the side of the ship and slid down. Not a one heard it from the rushing wind in their ears.
Floyd almost fell, his body expended of energy, which caused Terrill and Krysta to hold tight as they slipped. It wasn’t long before the wind had reached peak howling, threatening to toss them about until Terrill’s hand, dry with blood, found a groove in the wood that he could latch on to. Krysta found one on her side, as well, and they held as tight as they could.
Things spun round and round, Terrill’s body feeling tight as it had with all matters concerning teleportation. The sensation made him grin even through his pained grimace of holding on; they had made the right choice.
In seconds, the teleportation had faded, placing the ship elsewhere. It still bobbed up and down on the water, and still had pirates aboard it, but above was a looming tower fortress.
They had arrived at the pirate’s base. They had arrived at Devil’s Haven.