“Nuri! This is foolishness,” Casella rumbles from the edge of the dock where our team is preparing to sail away. Heaving from his run across the city, he takes a moment to catch his breath. In the meantime, he levels a stern look at me, his arms crossed and his voice so low and intimidating that my chest vibrates with the force of his displeasure.
“I know! But we gotta stick together,” I say as I fumble about with the mooring line, trying to untie my glass boat from the docks so we can set off in pursuit of Saphora. “I’ll never forgive myself if she gets away. Never.”
“You can’t catch her. None of you are hydromancers. Neither do you command the wind.”
My friend’s objections crash over me with cold logic. For a brief moment, I freeze under the assault of his superior reasoning. Hot anger rises up a moment later, obliterating any chance of giving up. I call on sharpness, severing the messy knot that’s defying my attempts to leave the harbor with all haste, and shove the boat away from the burly [Inquisitor].
He doesn’t say another word. No spectral chains manifest to bind us in place. There’s not even a hint of mana from him; inwardly, he’s as calm as a lake on a still summer day. Outwardly, the wind whips his beard around, but the man himself stands as unmoving as a rock. When I lift my gaze and meet his dark eyes, no recrimination shines forth, only resignation. And sorrow. He thinks we might fail. Or worse. Yet he does not bar our way.
I hope we don’t let him down.
Mikko works the oars, sending us skimming away from the dock, while Melina envelops us in a bubble of compressed time at my direction. I set out a flight of mana draughts, telling her to keep up the Skill as long as she can with the extra mana, and brace as we cut through the waves faster than should be possible since Mikko is pulling on the oars dozens of times a second compared with the flow of time in the outside world. This is the power of a golden Skill, refined twice over.
Ten minutes later, Gilead has long since disappeared over the blue curve of the world. We’re approaching the storm barrier that staves off the worst of the rainy season, keeping Gilead in perpetual balmy weather. I signal Melina to cut her Skill.
She raises an eyebrow, confusion evident in her expression, but follows my command. Even so, she clutches the edges of the boat, her knuckles white with tension, though she doesn’t seem ready to give up. “Already? I have more mana. We’ll fall behind if I stop.”
“It’s all right. You need a break,” Avelina says, patting her sister on the arm.
Melina shakes her head stubbornly. She’s panting lightly, but puts on a brave face. “We’ll lose her if I don’t push my Skill.”
Avelina tuts. “Don’t risk straining your channels just so we catch up a little earlier. We’ll get her. As soon as she’s in range, I’ll call down an inferno. Just watch.”
“It’s not that,” I interrupt gently, smiling at Avelina’s care for her twin.
Now both Linas look confused.
“I’m not sure if we’re on the right track,” I explain. “I need to track her down, and I forgot about my best weapon for that—my Falcon.”
Rakesh tilts his head, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “I thought she’d found a way to hide from it?”
“She did,” I admit. “But I don’t think it’s permanent. Remember how our scrying attempts fizzled out when they came into contact with the House Chizoba wards? I’ll bet they interfered with Falcon’s ability to lock onto her. Now that she’s out in the open—”
“We can find her again!” Rakesh finishes for me, turning to flash a brilliant grin as he connects the dots and in seconds leaps to the same conclusion I arrived at after chewing on the problem for an hour.
I nod, a grim smile on my own face. “Exactly. But I have a hard time communicating with Falcon when we’re in the time bubble. Something about the spatial distortion messes with our connection.”
“Fascinating. But when’re we gonna get going again?” Mikko asks. He scratches his head, not even winded from hauling so hard on the oars. “Do you have a lock on her yet?”
Concentrating on the sharp-edged glass bird, I quest along the mana connection and check in on the progress. A vague impression of outrage and disdain—Falcon’s usual response to Saphora—travels back along the ethereal bond between us. I close my eyes, blocking out the kaleidoscope of light reflections on the sea, and instead rely on the bundle of meaning passed along to my inner world to guide my sense of direction.
“Turn thirty-five degrees starboard!”
Water churns around us as Mikko twists each oar in the opposite directions, reorienting us along a new trajectory. Time dilation engulfs us once more just as he heaves, sending us skimming through the water so quickly that the glimmer of sunlight on the water turns into long streaks of gold and white, like pulled glass cane, stretching far into the distance.
“Breathtaking,” I murmur, even as I recognize it’s not the right time to get caught up in observing the beauty around us. We’re sailing forth to war.
As we go, I pulse outward periodically with my [Arcane Domain], keeping close track of everything on the water—and beneath the waves. While we’re hunters seeking a target, I’m also wary of becoming prey to a greater monster. Denizens of the deep could swallow us whole if I’m not prepared to fend them off with a spiritual bludgeon: the authority of my Domain made manifest.
After seeing the matriarch sea serpent destroy half the city of Natan, I’ve gained newfound respect for the dangers we face in open waters. At least on land, we could outmaneuver the slow-moving Oletheros, despite its overwhelming power. Here? We’re a tempting, mana-rich target that can only move quickly in a straight line. Changing directions is laborious and slow out on the water, our time cheat notwithstanding. I’m not willing to bet my team’s survival on our speed. We need advance warning if we’re going to fend off predators.
“Why the long face, Nuri?”
Melina nudges me with her knee, startling me out of my reverie. I’m so focused on the surrounding world that I’ve lost track of what’s right next to me, but her question refocuses me on the present.
“Keeping watch,” I say. “We’re hurtling into the unknown, without backup. What kind of leader would I be if I didn’t worry?”
“That’s good, as long as you remain poised. Right now you look like you’ve been buried alive. The others might worry; it’s your job to take their fears on your shoulders, not to multiply them,” Melina murmurs.
Mulling over her words leads me to nod slowly. I split my attention. My mind still tracks the deeps, but I make the effort to smile at the team, clap Mikko on the shoulder, and praise him for his tireless rowing. She’s right. I have to keep everyone’s spirits up.
“I know it’s not fair.”
Melina’s admission startles me. That’s two times in as many minutes. When I arch my right eyebrow and tilt my head, looking at her for answers, she simply sighs.
“Nuri, hear me. We might be heading to our deaths. No time for second-guessing, no time for regrets. We ask a lot of you, but only because you can take it. We trust you. Got it?”
“Appreciate it, Mel,” I whisper.
She swallows hard. “We’re prepared to do whatever it takes to see this through.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” I say. A genuine smile tugs at my lips. My vision narrows a touch as my eyes crinkle. “What’s the point of gaining all this power if we can’t look out for each other? We’re going to end that witch. And we’re all gonna make it home.”
Just as Melina starts to answer, I lift a hand, cutting her off. Alarms blare in my head.
An alien presence brushes against the far edges of my Domain, deep underwater. My entire body stiffens in fear. Reaching out with my presence, I take in the full scope of the beast beneath us. Snake-like, with protruding dorsal fins, the creature is four or five times as long as our boat. It keeps pace easily, stalking us despite our warped time.
My fingers shake involuntarily when I push through its natural resistance and perform a Viewing, confirming that the huge beast is a half-step into gold already. I clench both hands into fists and force the fear back down into its deep, dark cave to stop the trembling.
Marshaling my courage, I prepare to strike. Monsters won’t stop me. Not today. If I drive through its eyes with a pulse of sharpness-infused mana, maybe I can scare it off. Failing that, I’ll drop one of the several spare golems I brought with me and attempt to use it as a locus point for my Skills with the distributed casting I’ve just started practicing.
Lost in thought, tracking the monster through my [Arcane Domain] as I come up with a plan, I’m too slow to draw first blood.
A massive whump passes through my ribcage, rattling my bones and making my heart palpitate. I lurch sideways and nearly fall out of the boat, held in place only by Mikko’s quick thinking and strong arms. Ears ringing from the aftermath of the shockwave, I rely on my other senses, questing out further with my Domain to figure out what in the abyss just happened.
Blood floats in the water, an inky haze in my spiritual sight, surrounded by fine chunks of gore that used to be a team-killing threat. Whatever struck the sea monster didn’t hold back. An attack like that could have leveled the entire Silaron Glass Works.
New terror seizes me. If it’s another beast, then we’re dead. If it’s a new faction joining the party, then an even worse fate might await us. Mastering my dread, I push my Domain out further than before, seeing answers.
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A presence emerges from below us, sleek and menacing. It’s not swimming, not in the traditional sense, but it cuts through the currents all the same. Cold and unyielding against my extended senses, it knifes toward us on an intercept course.
“Drop the time bubble,” I bark.
“Orders?” Avelina asks, summoning fire.
“Stand down!” I shout in relief, finally recognizing the dark shape. I heave a sigh of profound relief
Frothing water turns to foam off our port side, sending out choppy waves that rock our transparent boat. The churn intensifies, like a [Witch]’s cauldron brought to a roaring boil, and a patrolling watercraft emerges from underneath the waves, looming above us in gleaming metal and layers of reinforced mana.
“Yathawn to the rescue!” Melina cheers.
Right on cue, a circle appears on the side of the undersea boat. Spraying aquamarine droplets of water that catch the light and shimmer with a refracted rainbow, the circular silver hatch protrudes out from the boat, unseals with a hiss of released air, and reveals a familiar face of a familiar [Outrider].
Vedarian bares his serrated teeth. “I’d claim surprise at meeting you again, O friends of Natan, but I should have known you were involved in another incident with a monster. Always getting yourselves in trouble!”
“I see that your little ‘personal transportation’ vessel carries powerful armaments,” I say with a shake of my head. Just how much has Vedarian hidden from us?
“Fortunate for you,” he chuckles.
“What are you doing so far from the city, anyway?” Rakesh asks, shifting in his seat and placing a hand on his notebook. His eyes are hooded, flickering back and forth while he regards the far-ranging Yathawn. In his soul space, the maze-like, peak silver structure of his newest Skill [Fractured Plans, Fallen Enemies] glints as it winks to life.
I guess we’re all a little more guarded after our time on the road. Gilead’s been a proper nest of vipers, so I don’t blame Rakesh for his skepticism, not when I’m gathering my Domain in preparation for a multi-pronged attack of my own.
“Rescuing you,” Vedarian deadpans.
“Patrolling this close to Gilead? Dire straits must have forced you away from your usual hunting grounds. You have my sympathies,” Melina replies. Only years of familiarity with Melina lets me pick up on her reservation. Have we all become jaded?
“Everything all right back home?” Lionel asks. His is the only voice that sounds gentle, without any hint of ulterior motive or veiled antagonism.
“Times are tough. We’re holding on despite it all.” [Outrider] Vedarian pauses, his fingers fluttering with the Yathawn’s characteristically strange expression of humor. “Alas, now we’ll have to do without one of our most powerful weapons, since I spent it in defense of my wonderful friends. What can you do to help us make this right?”
“Could be worse. Your entire city could be engulfed in a flood while you’re forced to flee and abandon your young,” I point out.
“Ah. Awkward banter. Good for keeping spirits high,” Vedarian replies, baring his sharp teeth again. Nothing seems to faze him in the least.
“Why are you here?” Avelina blurts out. She narrows her eyes, her hand lifted up, flames gathering in an orange-white ball above her palm.
“Truth be told, we’ve been following you,” [Outrider] Vedarian replies easily. He hisses in amusement at the flinches from my friends, but continues on without a care in the world. His lack of fear reassures me, oddly enough.
“In good faith, I hope,” Rakesh says.
Vedarian nods emphatically. “We employ a few smugglers who trade with Gilead for the more difficult to obtain goods. We’ve heard the news of how Nuri has stirred up trouble. It seems he is a harbinger of floods, no? Friendship with you is hazardous!”
I roll my eyes. “Trouble follows in my wake. That’s hardly my fault.”
The flat, dubious stares from my teammates is a knife to the back. “Oh, come on! It’s not that bad.”
“Protest not, glassmaker of miracles. I admire your bold dance across the currents of fate,” Vedarian says. He chuckles again at my discomfort, a twinkle in his slitted eyes. “The fact remains that we have followed your rumors with great interest. The Matriarch even purchased a scrying mirror. You’ve grown powerful.”
I scratch my chin through my beard. “Not powerful enough, apparently. I didn’t sense you when we left the harbor, only as you approached the deceased silver beast.”
“That you could track me at all means you’re stronger than I anticipated,” Vedarian says. For the first time in our conversation, he eyes me more warily, as though he forgot that I raised a [Sanctuary] and saved his entire city. Maybe he thought that my power only came from the core of the Oletheros.
He shrugs. “Good. That’s better for all of us. My Matriarch sent me to keep a close eye on you, should you ever need the might of the deep. I’ve been waiting for you to return to the waters. We are fated, after all.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, hanging out so close to Gilead,” Mikko says. “The Army is still putting down insurrectionists.”
“Danger is all around me, friend! Naturally, I’ve not docked in the harbor. Even I dare not trespass past the weather barrier. Gilead’s guardians get, hm, twitchy at intruders.”
“What does your Matriarch want? Why all the prevaricating?” Rakesh demands. He sits up tall in our shallow boat, imperious even though Vedarian is seated above him since the larger watercraft is bobbing on the waves nearby, looming over our position.
“To the point. Schemer, scholar, contract-maker! Very well. I shall indulge your curiosity. Now that you’re well known in the city, we have come to entreat you to bargain on our behalf. We’ve suffered under the weight of trade embargoes for far too long. We need access to the city once more. My people need the lifeblood of trade, or we will wither and die.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You really think we can arrange that for you? I’m hardly a [Lord] of the land.”
“I have it on good authority that you can,” Vedarian says. This time, the steel in his voice leaves no doubt that he will not stop until our bargain is struck.
“I’ll do what I can. But what will you do in exchange? Killing a weak water monster is hardly the equivalent of changing the fortunes of an entire people—for the second time, I might add.”
“The sloop cutting across the face of the waters too quickly for you to catch it. I offer it to you as a show of good faith,” the shrewd hunter declares.
Lionel leans closer. His hand digs into my biceps as he squeezes tight and growls in my ear. “Nuri! Do whatever it takes. She can’t get away. Not again.”
Rakesh chews on the inside of his cheek, appearing lost in thought. “You’re overestimating the pull we have with the powers that be. I’ll do what I can, but no guarantees.”
“Ozana will probably help,” I say, speaking slowly. “I can’t promise what the rest of the city will do, but I believe I can speak for her. She runs the largest auction house in Gilead.”
Rakesh pulls out another of his paper birds. He whispers a few terse words, no doubt calling the mistress of the Orpheus as we speak, and gives us a curt nod. “She’s in.”
Once more Vedarian’s teeth show in a terrifying grin. “I suppose that will suffice. For now. Here. Take this and hang on tight; I’ll tow you to your quarry.”
Deal done, he glides across the surface of his craft and attaches a thick hawser to a tow hitch on the back of the boat. He tosses us the other end, and Mikko soon secures it, looping it through the holes I made for the oars.
“Ava? Reinforce the boat. Just in case,” I suggest, concerned that my glass isn’t strong enough in its current form to hold up.
Not a moment too soon. [Strong as Stone] go into effect just in time. The Yathawn vessel lurches forward, driving us back in our seats, and I rub my suddenly-sore neck as we skim across the inland sea far faster than before.
Tears trace along my cheeks from the force of the wind. I squeeze my eyes shut, lest the rushing wind dry them out completely, and hunker down on the seat, glad I can hold tight with both hands. At this rate, we might actually catch Saphora now.
Comparing the pace of the enchanted watercraft to Mikko’s manful rowing shocks me. I was sure that with Melina’s time-dilation, we could outrun most boats at sea, but I was dead wrong. We’re flying far faster than I can run, even mana-empowered, and our little glass boat slams into each wave hard enough to make my teeth rattle. It’s a good thing we’ve all reached the First Threshold, or else I’d worry about the risk of injury. Every so often, we launch off a wave and fly for real, soaring through empty air and crashing back into the water several long heartbeats later.
I peek at the enchantments, curious which runic arrays lend such swift wings to their manasteel vessel. Strange scripts greet me, all swooping sigils and curlicues. None of them are intelligible, despite my crash-course in the runic language over the last year.
My breath catches in my throat. My pulse quickens as the second shock of the last few minutes poleaxes me. Is this an entirely new system of inscriptions? A new way of partnering with magic to direct it to do our bidding? How the Yathawn wrought such an advanced propulsion system is beyond me, but I’m determined to unearth their secrets in time. Perhaps the trade arrangement will prove more profitable than I dreamed, assuming I can get my hands on their enchantments.
Despite our overwhelming speed, a full hour flies by before a small dot appears ahead of us. It’s dark and low on the horizon, barely a smudge at first. I cycle mana into my eyes, falling back on old tricks to see better, and realize with faint amusement that I’m essentially creating miniature lenses in front of my eyes with mana. Of course. That makes sense. I can’t break the rules of optics; better eyes will only help me see clearly, but won’t enlarge a far-off detail.
While I’m musing over the nature of body-enhancements and the intersection of magic and natural laws, Saphora’s lead shrinks. Soon, I can resolve the masts and rigging. Individual ropes and colors come into sharp focus. Then, abruptly, the dark silhouettes of indefinite shapes scurrying across the small deck turn into people, with identifiable colors and outfits.
Another few minutes, and we’re in range of my [Arcane Domain], which expands outward to engulf their ship. Each person’s mana gleams in my metaphysical senses, from dull orange to brilliant shades of argent, depending on the person’s advancement. A symphony of Skills activate as they notice us, and with my Domain pushed to the maximum, the mana shines in my sight like the plucked strings of a harp in the hands of a maestro, each string resonating with a different frequency of power and beauty.
Tearing myself away from the artistry, I remind myself sternly that yonder lies the enemy. Saphora is our foe thrice over; she dies today. I hone in on the [Wind Mage], easily picking out the bonfire of potent mana around her soul. Straining, I push power through the connection, slamming down on her with the full power of my unleashed Domain, severing her concentration and disrupting her Skill.
Where she falters, Vedarian thrives. He re-emerges from the portal that he’d closed over his head, standing tall and whooping like a banshee. Savage joy pours off him as he thrills to the hunt, poised to kill as soon as we’re in range.
There’s a purity to his violence, a simplicity and straightforwardness that I admire. I’m too caught up in dilemmas of morality and niggling questions of whether mercy might lead to future redemption. Our Yathawn friend cares little for such trivialities, which makes him the perfect executioner.
Power gathers in his soul, bridging between him and the torpedoes his vessel carries. With a snap that leaves my ears ringing, the projectile launches, carrying its deadly payload straight toward the sloop.
A split-second before impact, a new presence manifests. If the [Wind Mage] is a bonfire, he’s an inferno, a forest-fire, a volcanic eruption—no, the sun itself, blinding in intensity, burning white-hot.
Burning, burning, burning!
Screaming, I release my Domain and fall back into the boat, vaguely aware of Mikko and Lionel’s arms grabbing me and holding me up as fear overpowers me.
I grit my teeth, shaking my head and snarling in pain. Little by little, the disorientation falls away. I lift my eyes, hoping against hope to see nothing but smoking wreckage where the boat was moments earlier, but it’s completely unharmed. The strange [Mage] who teleported in front of the sloop is holding an inert weapon in his hands, looking more entertained by the attempted destruction than truly threatened.
He flings it downward, into the waters, with a disdainful flick of his wrist. Once it’s far beneath the waves, it explodes, but the shockwave only rocks the boat instead of destroying our target. He smiles, and with a single step crosses hundreds of feet to appear next to me.
Every bone in my body seems to turn to liquid. I collapse back into the boat again, and this time no one is able to catch me. We’re all flattened by the force of the figure in front of us. Horror creeps along my spine, taking residence at the base of my skull, as I recognize the old monster.
[Viceroy] Tapirs smiles at me, but it’s a hollow, predatory thing. “Hello, Nuri. It’s high time we talk.”