Chapter 15
The Haven
Terrill suppressed a grunt when his fingers started to slip, the dry blood itching on his palm. The spray of the sea was making it all the more difficult, and Krysta could be seen having the same exact problem. Floyd was dead weight in their hands, the steam expended from his body as he became limp. The only salvation they had was that they had managed to land on the side of the ship facing away from the fortress docks. If they could manage to hold on, of course.
“All right, guppies!” Winifred could be heard snapping. Terrill’s nails dug into the wood, to the point of almost driving in splinters, but he kept calm. “Haul everything you gathered to the vault and rest up, but not too long.”
“Aye, Captain Winifred!” they sang in chorus. Their tromping boots were heard on the top deck, scuttling off. They were almost free.
Floyd gave off an involuntary groan, like his body was starting back up again. Some of the footsteps stopped, and Terrill took a risk in kicking the redhead to shut him up. Floyd received the message, his lips sewn tight as they waited with bated breath. They didn’t have very good luck as a pair of hard boots could now be heard making their way across the deck. They would be discovered soon.
A hiss from Krysta provided hope, the girl jerking her head in the direction of something. With the increased creaking, Terrill knew it was their only option and he decided to take the risk. His lack of response was her confirmation, and with a tentative hold, she began to shimmy along, taking Floyd with her. Terrill followed right after, and soon her plan revealed itself in the form of a small hole, enough for the lithe Krysta to fit through. He wasn’t so sure about himself.
The wary footsteps had stopped, checking something on the deck. The owner called back to someone yelling for them, as well. It offered a light reprieve as Krysta began to squeeze herself into the hole lined with powdered burns, perhaps from an earlier, unmaintained skirmish. Floyd was the next to go, with Terrill lifting him up as he kept his hold. On the inside, Krysta had taken his legs and pulled them on through, leaving Terrill’s other hand free to grasp the wood.
It offered him no peace, now that the footsteps had resumed.
The boat rocked, and the seawater splashed against the side, matting Terrill’s already rain-soaked hair to the point it drooped on his forehead. He resisted the sneeze that threatened to come forth. Another hiss sounded from the hole, and Terrill knew it was his turn. He completed the journey, and instead of trying to swing himself around, dove in headfirst.
As expected, his body was too stocky for such a maneuver, but this time, Floyd had his back. He was deliriously standing, but was able to put a hand to the wood, burning away just a little bit of it until Terrill could be grabbed by Krysta and pulled all the way through. He landed atop her, and both silenced themselves with hands over each other’s mouths. Floyd remained on watch, his legs looking like jelly while he stared out of the hole.
The footsteps had stopped again, and Terrill could swear to hearing the man breathing as he watched over the edge. Krysta’s breath tickled his hand, and his own muscles were groaning from supporting himself over her, wondering just how much longer they had to hold this position.
“Oi, come on! We got plunder to sort out!”
“Ah, all right! Musta been the breeze…”
Floyd was about to drop, and Terrill, too, as the footsteps traveled back along the deck and disappeared on to the docks. With the last man gone, all three let out a gasp. Terrill pulled to the side, allowing Krysta to sit up as they took their hands away, sucking in as much air as they could. Floyd fell to his knees.
“Just…give me a moment…” he expressed, his head knocking against the wood. “Used too much magic. Hungry, too.”
“I’ll see what I can find,” Krysta said, her voice reduced to a whisper as a precaution. She was up and moving about the hold of the ship in moments, leaving the boys to rest up. Terrill rubbed at his eyes. He felt his own exhaustion coming on, not helped by the fact all lamps were extinguished on the ship, putting them in relative darkness. There was a bolted table and some swinging hammocks that threatened to call him, but knowing that the Serotin army could be marching any second put a stop to that line of thought.
In order to keep his mind active, Terrill decided to work on some measure of reconnaissance. There was little light in the hold, which meant there was no way to see to the exterior of the boat from where they were, but Terrill could still hear the muffled voices outside. He stood, ignoring the rustling of Krysta ferreting through the rather well-stocked larder of the ship. There was a nearby ladder, and he took hold of it to climb towards the trapdoor at top, cracking it open for just a peek.
The breeze was welcome and dry to his face, but he didn’t dare to peek out any further, not yet. From where he was, there were still some pirates out and about, hauling their cargo off, though the most precious of that cargo was nowhere to be seen. What Terrill did see was Winifred, overseeing the operations with a glum, and rather bored, frown on her face. She appeared to be tossing a locket up and down in the air, or twirling it around her finger while she watched the men work, only stowing it under her cloak when a rather harried pirate came running up to her.
“Captain, the commander says they’re ready for your expert interrogation techniques down in the dungeon!” This pirate didn’t bother to salute. Winifred didn’t care.
“Let’s get this over with.” It was an eerie contrast to what Terrill had come to associate her with. She wasn’t mocking or smirking or playing this enthusiastic role about causing pain. If anything, she looked…resigned. It conflicted with everything Terrill knew about her, and that disturbed him enough to accidentally make a sound. It was light, and no one else had managed to hear it, but Winifred looked in the direction of the ship, her head cocked to the side.
He cursed inside, forgetting what mastery she had over the wind.
“Is something wrong, captain?”
“Not in the slightest. Second basement dungeon level, yes?” The pirate offered a confirmation, and the woman disappeared right after. He was left with a befuddled expression that soon turned to scrambling off into the fortress. They were now alone.
“I have our location in the fortress once we’re ready to move out,” Terrill said once he’d closed the door and sat himself down with both Floyd and Krysta. The latter had managed to come up with some unspoiled loaves of bread and a small amount of water. It wasn’t much, but was enough to clean his hands by, and to get Floyd up and eating, his usual energy returning.
“Well, if we know where to go, let’s go-whoa!” Whatever Floyd’s boasts, he was still in recovery mode, and his legs put him right back to where he started, sitting on his butt with nothing but his two companions in the cold darkness of the ship’s hold. Outside, the crimson of sunset leaked in through the hole, the waning of the day upon them.
Terrill laughed, Floyd’s eagerness sharply impressing a memory upon him.
I can handle fifty, no, a hundred monsters if you’ll let me at them. Even if a hundred bones break, I’ll defy Golbrucht!
“What’s so funny to you? We can’t keep sitting here!”
“Nothing. You just reminded me of someone just as reckless,” Terrill said. The memory had recalled the feeling of a smile. “He didn’t know his limits, either, my friend Atrum. It got him into trouble more than I can remember. Wonder what he’s up to… Guess I’ll find out soon enough.”
“You’re one to talk about not knowing limits,” Floyd said in kind. He ripped into another loaf of bread, chewing until the smacking of his lips made Krysta put distance between them. “You like charging in when there’s people to protect. What’s that about?”
“Nothing much,” was the answer, given as Terrill stood and put his hands in his pockets. He was ready to get moving, himself. “Only that when you grow up, never knowing who you’ll lose next, and when the person who’s decided to be better than you is lost, it makes you want to hold on to everything you can.”
“A Chosen One?” Krysta asked meekly. It appeared heart-rending for her, perhaps dredging up some old memory that cut deeply; a regret she had never been able to shake. He hummed in affirmation, which made her shrink in all the more.
“I wanted to be a Chosen One so badly, to defeat Golbrucht and avenge my parents for their death in the war… But when I turned eighteen, I wasn’t chosen. There was another in the village who was, and looking back, he was better at everything…just not good enough.” Terrill sighed, running a hand through his hair as his soon blank stare met the sinking sunset. “That year, he and our town’s Guardian never made it home, so I took up the mantle. Seeing the way it shook our town, I made a promise to make sure every Chosen One returned home. Everyone returns home…”
His hand almost pulled his hair up now, clenching atop it as he thought of where Atrum could be.
“Your world sounds weird, and that attitude seems a bit naïve, yeah?”
“It’s not that weird. I just don’t want anyone to die so long as it’s in my power, Floyd.” Terrill scoffed, looking down at the boy. “Besides, I’d say you’re just as naïve, running right into danger the second Torry is involved. You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
“Wha-? I… That’s…um…” Floyd’s stammer revealed what Terrill already suspected. Although Krysta blushed, covering her mouth with a squeak, he didn’t need further confirmation. Eventually, Floyd relented. He slumped. “Yeah.”
“Explains a lot,” Terrill said, now beginning to pace back and forth across the hold. “Everything you were doing was for her, and you were absolutely desperate to get to her. You’re not great at hiding your emotions. Guess that’s something we have in common. Hah. More alike than we think.”
“The funny part is, it’s always Torry getting into trouble and acting straight on her emotions,” Floyd shared. His knees were pulled in, his arms wrapping around them. The hold was growing ever darker. “She loves to experiment with any and all magic, and sometimes it puts her in danger. It’s always regulated, but she’s the kind of person who keeps pushing until she breaks. Maybe that’s why I love her. We both love busting past our limits, the ones everyone places on us.
“Like, she’s a real whiz at archery, but it took her a long time to learn it, and every day, her fingers would come back bruised and bloody. She’d still be at it the next day, though. And sometimes she’d spend ages puzzling out a problem with the origins of magic, developing her own styles and making it happen. Torry’s an inspiration to the entire Academy. She even posited the proof my theory on time-based magic was possible! No one else believed it; thought I was just slacking off. But she…she believed in it.”
“Are you two…like…” Krysta couldn’t get the words out, the inflamed blush preventing her lips from speaking them.
“Sometimes. Sometimes not,” Floyd admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. “On good days, we probably are. On not so good days, we’re research partners. We’d be nothing if her father had anything to say about it, though. But now, I fear she’s in some real danger, and I can’t just sit around. Call it selfish, but that’s what she means to me.”
Terrill saw the fondness, and the way Floyd seemed to soften and smarten up when he spoke of Torry Rainert. Even when captive, she was the kind of girl that picked him up, made him better, and made him strive for something he’d hidden most of his life: his full potential. Terrill’s decision increased tenfold.
“Well, then, let’s rescue her and the mayor and stop a pointless war before it starts,” Terrill confirmed. He held his hand out to Floyd, setting aside all manner of animosity. The redhead watched it, and then joined their hands together, pulled up with an equal fire of determination. Krysta beamed while joining them. “Just one thing. No killing. Just knocking the pirates out should suffice, and we can leave the army to deal with them when we’re done. The louder we are, the more noticeable we’ll be. If bodies drop, they might use it as justification, too.”
“Sure I can’t take out a couple?” Floyd asked, cracking his knuckles.
Terrill let the question slide, taking charge of their troupe to climb the ladder and poke his head out on the deck.
The sunset was now out in full, casting a shadow from the tower erected before them. The docks were empty, but the multitude of torches lit about the fortress in specific areas told Terrill where the pirates were gathered. Once he confirmed there was no one there, Terrill fully ascended, pulling his companions up to the deck.
Only now did he understand the full scope of Devil’s Haven.
It wasn’t quite a fortress as he’d always imagined, like the walls of Carth, or the natural foundations of Silicias. Rather, it was a ramshackle tower of wood, metal and stone, twisted by crude magic into the form of a tower. Certainly, the docks were made to look like a harbor, and there were what seemed to be stairs deep in the hallway of the first floor, but they all looked misshapen and more than a bit off. More telling was that as Terrill’s eyes traveled upwards, each floor made of sturdy, misplaced wood surrounded by spikes, had cannons placed at somewhat strategic points, aiming towards the plains before the fortress. They looked new, and more like pieces of the fortress had been cut out to make room for them in recent times.
All of the details caused Terrill to fold his arms with further observation. Krysta and Floyd were already making their way off the ship, having no time to take in the Devil’s Haven.
With night setting in, a brazier atop the fortress was lit, like a big bonfire, and Terrill believed he could see a shadowy figure atop it, tied to something or other. He wondered if it was the mayor, but he was drawn more to further torchlight in the distance. A cold wind blew across him, informing Terrill they were farther north, but it did not deter the bobbing torchlight downwind. Something was moving on the plains, and he had no idea how long it would take before it arrived at the fortress. No time was left to lose, and Terrill leapt to the uneven docks to join his companions.
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“There’s no way these pirates are prepared for any sort of full-scale war,” he whispered to them while they crept along, careful to keep a low profile. Loud cheers and the sounds of merrymaking emanated from the ground floor as they got closer to the wide entrance leading from the harbor, concealing their conversation under the voices. “Their cannons are poorly placed, and this whole fortress looks like it’s one fire away from burning down. The mayor might not want it, but if there is some sort of war, they’ll be slaughtered in an instant.”
“Yeah, but that LeBrandon is a beast. He was even throwing you around,” Floyd said. They arrived at a corner, peeking their head into the entrance. No one was there, though the light from a hall illuminated the entire corridor. It would be impossible to not be noticed. “Though I guess without him, they’re not very good at pirating. Any attack on military ships is over in a second, and they’ve even failed at a few passenger ships if they don’t have mages.”
“Still, we’d do our best to be careful,” Krysta said. Not that they needed the reminder.
“I’m more worried about the why. There’s no reason to spark a war when you’re not going to win it.”
“Not unless you’re crazy like that LeBrandon.”
“Or you’ve been pushed into it.”
Terrill feared that Krysta hit closer to the mark.
With only risk in front of them, the trio stole into the brightly lit hall, the flames dancing on the walls as they crept along. The merrymaking grew ever louder as they approached the wide gaping doorway (sans door, to Terrill’s amusement). Creeping closer caused he light spilling out to cast shadows upon their faces. Snippets of conversation started to float through, while Terrill noticed a rickety, wooden, spiral staircase across from that entrance. If he craned his head, he knew he’d be able to see it ascend through all the floors. Actually, Terrill began to realize he could see the entire layout of the fortress, from the sleeping quarters the floor above them, to the armory higher than that, and a fourth floor where that brazier burned bright. At the end of their present hallway was another set of stairs, this one of horribly crafted stone that descended to the dungeons.
They knew the goal before them.
“I’m tellin’ you,” a voice suddenly shouted, drunken but clear as day from the confines of the mess hall. Terrill peered around, careful to not be caught as he peered into the smoky and dim hall. Many pirates were gathered about tables, with rows and rows of booze and meats, feasting after a successful haul. The man in question was nearest the entrance, almost falling over on his seat. “LeBrandon’s leadin’ us all to ruin! Attacking Silicias and pullin’ the mayor as a hostage, and for what? Some measly jewels what don’t even cover the repairs we need. He’s lost his mind!”
“Hush, Brian, ya shouldn’t be talkin’ like that. If he hears ya, he’ll call down a fierce storm on ya!” Laughter echoed from that statement, though “Brian” frowned and downed more of his drink.
“I ain’t afraid!” He kicked aside a chair, moving to stand on a table and motion to all the pirates there. Some ignored him, shaking their heads, while others listened with rapt fascination. “There was a time what we pirates just wanted to be free, takin’ only what we needed, and not takin’ on an army.”
“You got a problem with LeBrandon, why don’t you fight him yourself, Brian? If you think you can,” a grizzled sailor spoke, he and his mates guffawing in their corner. “We all knew the rules: winner takes all. And LeBrandon became chief when he killed the old man.”
“I still reckon that was unnatural, and Captain Winifred had somethin’ to do with it.”
“Gonna have to prove it. Ya either beat the chief or ya go burnin’ down with him!”
“Well, I ain’t stickin’ around to find if we burn, but if someone beats LeBrandon, I’ll follow him.”
“Yeah, that’s some credo of freedom ya got there, Brian. One set of chains for another! Thought pirates were about bein’ free!” The mockery continued, as did the celebration. Terrill took the chance to glance at the companions behind him.
“Sounds like infighting, or at least dissent. Might be our chance.”
“Um…Terrill…” Krysta’s finger was elevated, pointing the way past the hall, to the other side of the doorway, where a pirate carrying a tray of food stood, blinking.
They stared at him.
He stared at them.
“Floyd.” The redhead understood the order. Just a small amount of steam billowed off him, not even enough to be visible, and he raced past the door end up behind the man, a knife pressed to his throat. Careful to make sure no one was looking, Terrill and Krysta silently padded past the drunken pirates. If any had seen them, Terrill hoped they believed the two were just delusions. With all three joined up, they dragged the pirate under the cover of darkness, near the stairs that led downward. “This way leads to where the hostages are?”
The pirate refused to answer, instead trying to bite at the hand covering his mouth. Floyd attempted to restrain him, but it took Krysta whacking him over the head with the butt of her rapier to stop his struggle.
“Can we take that as a yes?” she said.
“Move him someplace out of sight.” Terrill heeded his own order, joining Floyd in hauling the unconscious man by his armpits and over to the darkest corner of the hall they could find. Safely stowed away, the three faced the torch-lined steps downward. Terrill took the first, into the far colder air of the underground space.
They remained as quiet as they could, not knowing what lurked just around the corner. Lights grew brighter as they approached a first landing. Some snippets of talk and echoed footsteps informed Terrill that there were guards outside whatever was on this floor. He signaled to Floyd, who got the message with a nod.
The torches’ flickering slowed, as did much around the area, though Terrill found he was moving at normal speed despite the chill that Floyd’s spell presented. Right after they stepped on the landing, the two guards outside saw them, but moved too slowly to make a call. The boys came up behind them, locking their arms around their necks and forcing the two women guarding the door into unconsciousness. Once done, they dragged them inside the room, finding a vault that was rather meager when it came to any kind of pirate plunder.
“Sad state these guys are in,” Floyd joked.
His joke was short-lived as a scream split the air of the underground levels. Floyd bolted, but Terrill caught him, his face giving a stern reminder of how careful they needed to be. The boy relented under his hold, and the three continued their descent. Before they reached the bottom, another scream echoed around the chamber.
“I told you! I don’t know! You can hurt me all you want, but it won’t change! Ah!” There was a cracking sound, like that of LeBrandon’s whip, and a thud that seemed to indicate Torry had been thrown against a wall. Every sound made Floyd want to run for her all the more, but Terrill was glad he didn’t when they finally reached the dungeons they were seeking.
It was little more than a cave, by all accounts, lined with warped metal bars to serve as a sort of jail. There were a couple people in the cells by the entrance, merchants by the look of them, but their sallow skin and dead eyes indicated they had long given up hope of rescue from the mad pirates. They wouldn’t even listen to Torry’s scream, some of them covering their ears. Down the corridor of cells, Terrill could spy a few lazy pirate guards at a table, playing a game while they listened in an uncomfortable state to whatever their boss was doing to the poor girl.
The lights were, gratefully, dimmer here, allowing the trio to continue along, close to the vacant cells as they inched closer to one of the larger ones. That part was illuminated in the moonlight, and Terrill knew there was no getting close to Torry’s, so he directed them towards an open cell, only a stone wall with many holes separating them from where Torry was held. Floyd was the first to press himself against said wall, peering through to what was on the other side. Terrill took a hole above him.
“Torry!” Floyd whispered out, but Krysta kicked him to silence him. It was good she had, as Terrill immediately spied Winifred in the room, leaning against a wall with the same bored expression he’d spied earlier.
“I think you’re a liar! Serotin, the Academy, you’re all hoarders! Of jewels, knowledge and power!” LeBrandon was there as well, his blade of water becoming a whip that lashed out. It struck above Torry, raining stones upon her. The girl’s hat was gone, and her once pristine blonde hair was matted with dirt, while her clothes were torn in a number of places. Other than the wet bruises from LeBrandon’s methods, she looked otherwise unharmed, unless one counted the magic-sealing cuffs on her wrists. LeBrandon now kneeled down, yanking her by the hair. “Your director hoarded knowledge for years, knowledge that told of what would lead us pirates to greatness, under my leadership. It’s why you’ve trodden us underfoot.”
“How many times do I have to say it, pirate scum?” Torry, in spite of the grimaced pain on her face, spat on LeBrandon with a snarl. “I don’t know about any prophecy of greatness or otherwise. Stuff like that is legend.”
“That’s a lie, you stupid wench!” He didn’t bother with the blade this time, opting for backhanding her and sending her to the floor. Floyd readied himself to bust through the stone wall, but this time Krysta was the lucky one to restrain him. “Until I took command, our sniveling superiors did nothing, because you Academy brats kept them under your control with this prophecy! You feared their ascension and would not tell them the truth!”
“Prophecy?” Terrill mouthed to Floyd, who looked up in time to see him do it. He was shaking, his daggers clattering on his belt, but the shake of his head indicated that he, like Torry, had no clue what the leader of the pirates was talking about. New footsteps pattering on stone could be heard from the stairs.
“You’re insane.”
“No. I speak the truth. Why else would you have gone to Silicias? It is the source of where fate began.”
“I went to study magic, you dunderhead!” Torry looked like she could spit fire, her blue eyes radiating defiance. LeBrandon looked as though he wanted to beat her black and blue, but Winifred’s loud sigh precluded this latest barbaric action.
“This isn’t working, LeBrandon,” she spoke, waving wisps of wind between her fingers. Terrill would have found it impressive if she wasn’t an enemy. “The girl’s either dumber than she looks or won’t say anything to your brutality. Sometimes beating someone up doesn’t actually yield results.”
“Nonsense. It hasn’t failed me and my crew in the past.”
“Because you weren’t seeking such sensitive information, you dolt.” With a flick of her wrist, she pushed LeBrandon away from the source of their interrogation, only to take his place. She bent low, clasping Torry by the face. The girl refused to relent. “Now, girl, he’d like to beat you until you break, but I’m more forgiving. Just tell us where information regarding the prophecy is.”
“I have told you. There’s no such thing. Maybe rumors from ancient times at best, but nothing about pirates or any of that nonsense,” Torry said, her voice distorted by Winifred’s hold on her. The devious smile came to Winifred’s lips and Terrill knew that Torry was divulging all the information that the woman wanted LeBrandon to hear. Torry shivered in her hold, and the continued pressure upon her face made her continue onward, her voice turning to rambles. The footsteps were louder. “I…maybe I found some documents while researching magical history. They might’ve mentioned a Shadow King or King of the Dark or something, and a clash, but the results were so muddled. I swear!”
“I think your mind just needs clearing, and you seem the type to not care much for yourself. So, how do we know those words aren’t lies?” Floyd was thrashing about in Krysta’s hold, desperate to break through.
Terrill was having his own moment of revelation, his face darkening with every word spoken by Winifred. Torry’s next words made it feel justified.
“I’m not lying. Besides, none of it has to do with Serotin! The only results I could find when I tried researching the rumors were more foreign. Something from Sayn, I think, but I gave up because it went nowhere.”
“Are you saying we’ve been searching in the wrong country this whole time?!” LeBrandon roared, but Winifred kept him back. She stood, carrying Torry with her.
“I’m sure you can divulge more of your research to us,” she said. Her wind raised her hair in such a threatening fashion, that even Torry quivered. “That is, if you want dear daddy to stay safe. I doubt you care much for yourself, but your father… Well, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to him.”
“Don’t you dare-”
Torry’s latest act of defiance was interrupted. The owner of the flying footsteps sped past, the door of the cell they were in slamming shut. This latest pirate stopped outside the larger cell, panting, but found the words in his dry mouth to address LeBrandon.
“Commander, they’re on the move! The Serotin army approaches from the south.”
Terrill felt like the news plunged him into cold water. They were too late; the mayor’s words hadn’t reached the capital. What was more, it seemed that LeBrandon was on the cusp of receiving whatever information he wished. It was never more evident than by the sadism which split his face.
“At last! Whether the prophecy has been heard or not, this will be decided now! Ready the cannons, and arm everyone! We shall be free!” At his final words, LeBrandon’s body was enveloped in the same dark aura they’d seen at Silicias. Krysta fell backward, clutching at her chest like she remembered that very feeling, and Terrill trembled at the old sickness. The pirate’s voice was distorted, as though some of his words were not his own. Outside, the sound of thunder crashed yet again, and LeBrandon made to leave the cell. He gave attention one last time to Winifred. “I wonder if your hero can stop me now, Winifred, for the time of the Shadow King is nigh!”
“Heh,” Winifred scoffed. Terrill could swear her eyes looked towards their cell while LeBrandon swept from the dungeon without another glance to anything. His imposing figure radiated darkness, making all feel shrunken in until he was gone. “Foolish man. Though, I’m afraid I still need you and your father, girl. What will the soldiers do to save you? Burn it all down? Or just slaughter all the pirates in their wake? Can’t wait to find out.”
“Captain?” the pirate left behind said. The guards at the end of the hall stood up, too, but she vanished with Torry in a gust of wind.
“Damn it!” Floyd shouted. Terrill flinched.
“Hey, who’s there?!”
“Nice job, Floyd! Way to make things easy!” Terrill said, facing the door. With the stomp of his foot, a stone pillar emerged, throwing the locked door off its hinges and tossing it straight into the pirate that had run in their direction. The following steps indicated that the remaining guards were coming straight for them.
“Intruders! Sound the ala-” Light flashed about the area, causing the men to cover their eyes and leave their statements unconcluded. Floyd struck first, fire forming along his blades as he slashed through both. They crumpled, screaming at the burns that scorched their chests. One of them was picked up while he was still writhing in pain.
“Where’s Torry? Where did she take her?”
“It burns! Ahhh, help!”
“Useless pieces of crap.” Floyd kicked the man away, onto his comrade. His worry was exacerbated by the bell that rang about the fortress. Krysta was the first to allay his fears.
“Don’t worry, she’s still here in the fortress.”
“Likely at the top. I’m sure that’s where they’re holding the mayor,” Terrill confirmed, ripping his sword out and readying for battle. “It’s the most protected place, after all, so if they want a bargaining chi-hey, Floyd! Get back here!”
When it came to Torry, however, Terrill knew that there was no stopping Floyd. He had taken off the second a possible location had left his mouth, charging headlong up the stairs. Krysta sighed, but brandished her rapier.
“He’s going to get himself killed.”
“Or the rest of us,” Terrill concurred. Knowing it was a waste of time to continue chastising someone absent, the two took off through the ringing halls after him, determined to catch up. They had no time for stealth, pounding up the steps with speed over silence. “If Serotin is definitely on the move, I don’t know if they’ll hesitate to burn down the pirates, even with the mayor atop. At the very least, we could be looking at a complete massacre, and that might involve anyone here. And who knows how many soldiers the pirates will pick off before that could even happen. It’d be needless death all around.”
“So, we stop it, right?” Krysta made it sound so simple, but Terrill liked the straightforward way of thinking.
The situation was quite a bit more complicated than that, as they soon discovered upon emerging on the first floor and seeing the harbor. This time, it wasn’t unoccupied, as standing between the duo and the spiraling stairs upwards was a whole bevy of pirates, each with some makeshift weapon.
“Well, lookie here, boys! Some lost birdies from Serotin!” one of the pirates cackled, the whole group advancing. Terrill and Krysta formed ranks, their blades held in defense. “Come to save the mayor? You’re too late. You’re all gonna die.”
“Yeah, says who?” Terrill said in return. They appeared to expect fear over backtalk, and began to murmur amongst themselves.
“Th-that’s enough outta you!”
“Y-yeah! No more of you people bossin’ us around! We livin’ free!”
“Free?” Krysta laughed, making the pirates cower in fear at how little they feared. “You’re not going to be free if you’re dead.”
“Shut up, you bitch!”
The pirate that screamed it took the initiative to leap forward, his kitchen cleaver plunging through the air. Krysta drew her rapier back, ready to send sharp light into the pirate.
Neither attack made it, and Terrill held no surprised when both light and knife were blown off course by a sudden tempest. In fact, all of the pirates were blown back towards the harbor and Krysta was nearly pushed to fall back down the stairs.
Terrill held his expectant grin, one matching that of the woman that had appeared in the corridor.
“Hey there, Mr. Hero, good to see you,” Winifred said with utmost glee, her hands outstretched. “Ready for round two?”