Chapter Fifty-nine

Krissintha Arlonet Dar Ghelain felt fine. Right until she tried to move. As she did, a sudden, sharp pain travelled through her entire body. Her eyes shot open as she screamed, the world blurring and spinning. The pain then settled and made itself comfortable in her left arm, pulsing and burning diligently.

Shadows moved, reaching for her, holding her down, speaking words she understood.

‘Stay still, don’t move!’ one voice said. A man, perhaps?

‘You’re awake! You’re awake!’ another one cheered, not quite whispering, but not too loudly either. This one … sounded like a woman.

Krissintha closed her eyes and let her mind work through the fog of pain, untangling a mess of recent memories. It all came back to her, well, most of it did, right up to the moment a giant, green fist had sent her flying. But after that, it was a blank space.

‘Kevin! What happened?’ she whispered, her chest and her throat protesting the action of using them for more than a bare minimum of breathing.

Her familiar didn’t answer.

Kevin? Are you okay? She tried again, sending thoughts this time.

The spirit was quiet. No. He wasn’t just quiet. It felt like the thought couldn’t find the way out of her mind, bouncing around instead. What the hell? What did that mean? She tried again, but it was the same; the unsaid words intended for the spirit had nowhere to go.

Kevin wasn’t there.

Krissintha blinked a few times to clear her vision. Dim, yellow light seeped through a large hole in the ceiling. That was strange, there weren’t supposed to be any holes there. She was also certain she heard water falling and splashing somewhere near her.

Two faces stared down at her. She recognised them: the ranger and Miss Goldeneye were standing over her. She turned her head slightly. The floor was way too close — she must have been lying on her back. A murmur ran through the small crowd of elves standing behind the ranger and the woman, watching her, apparently amazed that she was alive. She was kind of amazed, too, and she was sure it was thanks to Kevin one way or another. But where was he? There was no way he could have been defeated or killed by some familiars, was there? No. No way. Not Kevin.

‘My familiar. Have you seen him?’ she croaked, looking at the ranger, then at Miss Goldeneye.

The man scowled, but before Krissintha could correct the mistake she knew she had made, he said,

‘I … uh .. he’s a spirit. I can’t see him at all.’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ Krissintha snapped at him, then she calmed herself.

She breathed in with some difficulty, preparing to rephrase the question, but the man spoke.

‘He spoke to me, though,’ he said, his scowl deepening. ‘He said something about going up there and murdering everyone.’

‘He … he left me?’ Krissintha gasped.

Suddenly she felt alone. He was her familiar. He wasn’t supposed to just leave her. Not even for a murder-spree.

She tried to sit up, determined to go right after the unruly spirit and give him a good tongue-lashing, but the moment she tried to move, she fell back screaming. Something was broken there, both an arm and an ankle, she was sure of it. The sudden, throbbing pain in her head wasn’t a good sign either.

‘Help me up!’ she barked at the two elves through gritted teeth.

‘You can’t be serious,’ the woman hissed, kneeling down next to her. ‘Look!’

Krissintha looked where she was pointing, straining her neck so she could see it. Her left arm was in a splint, her right leg and foot were bandaged, too.

A loud, cracking or crunching sound came from above, accompanied by the muffled screams of men. It sounded like a tree breaking and falling while a group of lumberjacks celebrated the event. Was this Kevin’s doing? Was he breaking the ship apart or something? There was no time to waste; the spirit normally behaved himself, but all alone up there, surrounded by enemies? Who knows what he might do. He needed her. Or so she hoped.

‘Help! Me! Up!’ Krissintha growled like a hellhound.

Miss Goldeneye flinched, then looked at the ranger. The man shrugged and moved to help.

Half a minute of awkward fiddling and all sorts of pain later, Krissintha was on her feet, feeling weak, certain she would collapse if she tried to take a step without the support of the two elves. She looked around, hoping to see something she could use as a makeshift crutch, but all she saw was the elves gathering around them, staring at her.

The elves all seemed to have found something to cover themselves with, luckily. Among the silent, worn faces, the children were the only ones not gazing at her; they were busy sipping tea or water. She squinted her eyes at one of them, a girl maybe, holding a mug with green zig-zag lines. Ah. Toven’s favourite mug. She hoped that later, when this was all over, describing this scene to him would save her and her mug-thief of a familiar from his vengeance.

‘Don’t let go, we’re going up!’ she declared firmly, using a mixture of her father’s and Master Fenar’s intonations when giving orders.

The two elves were suddenly convinced that they didn’t have a choice in the matter. The ranger instructed the rest of the elves to hide as best as they could. The crowd dispersed, retreating into the darkness of the hold, and the ranger and the woman began moving towards the hatch with Krissintha propped up between them.

***

‘Holy hell!’ the ranger exhaled a curse, looking around.

‘Your … your familiar … did this?’ Miss Goldeneye asked, her lips quivering, her voice barely a whisper.

Krissintha didn’t see the faces of her new companions — she was looking wide eyed at what the rowers’ deck had become. Somewhere in the distance, towards the other end of the deck, slaves still moved and wailed, but not many of them. The rest of it? A floating graveyard of hundreds of people who had died for no obvious reason. Bodies with no wounds or blood, filling the pits to the brim. Some still had their eyes open, their last expression of horrid bafflement still on their faces.

Then there was that hole. Scattered limbs littered the surrounding area, both human and ork, resting in pools of blood and guts. Krissintha had an inkling now as to how the hull got damaged. At least the hole was mostly over the waterline, so she didn’t think the ship was in danger of sinking. Oh, Kevin. What have you done?

Krissintha was still angry that the spirit had left her behind. But Kevin had been busy sucking the life out of this place, and the thought crossed her mind that not being there to witness it might have been a good thing. But this wasn’t the time to admire or to abhor the tentacle-work of her invisible and quite monstrous companion. He was up there somewhere. She couldn’t afford to stop and stare.

It was a good thing she had inherited her father’s stubborn nature — if not for that, she would have been stunned into a stupor by the sight. It also helped that she more or less knew what Kevin was capable of, although seeing it on such a scale was … disconcerting.

She finally looked at the two elves. Yes. This was definitely enough to shock even a ranger.

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‘Get moving!’ she ordered her two elven helpers, determined to get to the hatch at the middle of the deck rather than the one at the back. It was better to follow Kevin’s invisible footsteps. Less living barbarians that way. ‘Come on! To the hatch and up!’ she said to them, taking a small step forward.

The ranger snapped out of it, nodded, and was ready to move. Miss Goldeneye was not. The woman was gasping for the putrid air, eyes wet, and she looked like she was about to throw up. Krissintha sighed loudly.

The woman snapped her head to look at Krissintha, showing her an interesting mix of emotions, the two main components being an unhinged sort of terror and a look of silent pleading.

‘What’s your name?’ Krissintha asked her.

‘I … uh … it’s Fenirig Rina,’ she sniffled her name.

‘What?’ Krissintha almost yelled, staring into the woman’s eyes, her heart suddenly beating in her throat. ‘Are you … are you related to Master Fenirig Arte of Third Rangers?’

‘Me? No,’ she whispered shakily, her eyes flicking left and right. ‘I’ve … heard of him, but no.’

‘Thank the gods, I was worried for a second,’ Krissintha breathed out loudly.

That would have been a disaster. Hiraken Sala was probably going to give a good report to her grandfather — Krissintha had been nice and agreeable whenever interacting with the young elf. She didn’t want to think about how the Hellspawn would react if he found out she was rudely ordering around a relative of his.

‘So … Fenri?’ Krissintha asked.

‘I … prefer Ferin,’ replied the woman, the unexpectedly normal conversation seeming to have a calming effect on her.

‘Alright, Ferin, the thing is, my familiar is up on that deck. I need to get to him. I could limp to the ladder with just …’ she said, looking at the ranger.

‘Tomaron Astar,’ the man offered his name.

‘… yes, with just Tomas,’ she said, the man nodding. ‘But climbing? I’ll need both of you for that.’

The woman bit her lips, breathed in deep through her nose, wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded.

***

Some pushing, pulling and pain later, Krissintha was on the quarterdeck. She looked up at the darkening sky; the weak, orange glow of the setting sun hanging over the horizon no longer enough to hide the stars. Her two helpers held her tight between them, gawking at the twenty or so ork and human bodies littering the deck.

‘Damn it, Kevin!’ Krissintha muttered.

She wasn’t sure why she did that. Enemies had to be defeated. Had to be killed. Kevin was doing just that, and a part of her even appreciated that her familiar’s work was less messy than a conventional battle. Less blood, less guts, no wounded men crying for help. Her father would have loved to have a familiar like him. Maybe it was for the best that her old man never had the opportunity to host a Kevinistic spirit. Krissintha shuddered. Well, Kevin was Kevin. Still her familiar.

One of the two masts was … broken. Or chopped down — that was a better way to describe it. It looked like a couple of angry woodsmen had attacked it with their axes and cut through it. But then it stayed upright, on account of the numerous ropes of the rigging securing it from all sides. A few slaves or sailors lay splattered around the mast in smears of their own blood, unlike the clean “spirit-kills” that seemed to have been the fate of the majority of the fallen.

Tomas and Ferin watched the scene with their mouths open, forgetting they had a job to do. Krissintha gave them a moment to recover, then instructed them to start walking towards three disfigured men with unnaturally twisted limbs and necks, trying to move around the broken mast, lurching and twitching.

‘Shit! Those are possessed,’ Tomas the ranger whispered.

Ferin was gasping for air, and stopped after two steps. She was weeping quietly, and it sounded like she was whispering something. Krissintha turned to her to say something, but before she could, the three ghastly hosts all stopped moving, their heads snapping to look at them.

‘Took him long enough,’ Krissintha sighed.

Considering how Kevin had boasted on occasion about how he could see everything, it had taken him almost a minute to notice she was here, even though he was only about twenty paces away. The three puppets collapsed the same moment Krissintha felt her familiar poking at … her soul. She felt his presence grow, and she knew her familiar was finally back. She opened her mouth to chastise him, but Kevin’s thoughts came flooding into her mind like water through a broken dam.

Krissy! Oh, thank god you’re okay! And in one piece. Are you in pain? Can you move? How is your arm? And your leg? Are you dizzy at all? How many fingers am I holding up? How is …

‘Stop it!’ Krissintha ordered, holding her good arm up.

All of a sudden the blue flashes of Mana filled her vision, so much so that she could once again see an outline of not only tentacles, but of his familiar’s spherical body as well, right in front of her. That wasn’t an issue for her anymore — during Wensah’s last visit she had seen what her familiar looked like. It was, however, very much an issue for her escorts.

They both shrieked, and Krissintha wasn’t sure why they weren’t running for their lives yet. She had heard it was possible to be so scared that it robbed you of your ability to move, so maybe that was the case. Oh well, power-flashes usually lasted only half-moments, so it was all good. But the flashes of Mana intensified instead of vanishing, and a sudden, bone-chilling cold washed over her entire body.

‘What are you doing?’ she demanded.

Tentacle hug! I missed you! Kevin said, his weird, ghostly voice almost singing.

‘Oh. I can’t remember the last time anyone was this happy to see me,’ Krissintha grumbled. ‘Stop hugging me. It’s cold.’

She didn’t quite understand why the spirit’s power felt tingly when she used it, but cold when Kevin did. That was something to ponder later.

Sorry. Kevin said, and the blue, almost sparkling power of the spirit started to fade.

‘And you were complaining about me using too much of that MP stuff? How much did this “hug” cost you?’

It was worth it. The spirit declared cheerily.

Krissintha looked straight at Kevin’s body, the last of the blue flashes disappearing, the outline of the hovering sphere still just about visible. She narrowed her eyes and gave him a glare as icy as a spirit’s power.

Uhm … are you … okay? Kevin asked, his voice turning from happy to moderately cautious.

‘You left me,’ she stated, almost hissing the words.

I … I can explain. They hurt you, and I was angry, and …’ Kevin blurted his thoughts at her.

‘I know you can explain. That’s not what I want to hear,’ Krissintha said sternly, interrupting the spirit.

Oh. I … it won’t happen again? Kevin asked rather than stated.

‘With more conviction!’ Krissintha demanded.

It won’t happen again. He said, firmly this time, like he meant it.

‘Better.’ Krissintha nodded.

The last of Kevin’s power dissipated, and he was invisible again.

‘I … never knew familiars were like … this,’ Tomas the ranger whispered.

Oh. She forgot he could hear Kevin.

Ferin was gawking at the man — she could only hear Krissintha’s part of the exchange, and she looked like she was close to fainting. Tomas turned to her, gave her a feeble smile and said,

‘It was … like … a lover’s quarrel. She won.’

Both Krissintha and Ferin stopped breathing for a few moments.

That’s not funny. Kevin commented.

Heh. It is funny. Sini chimed in all of a sudden, all the way from the shore.

Up until now the landlubbers had the good sense not to talk unless it was necessary, lest they distract them from doing their jobs. But Kevin’s so called “spirit-walkie-talkie” was working, and thus the audience that was listening to them was larger than Krissintha would have liked. She coughed, cleared her throat, and decided it was time to change the subject and focus on important things. Such as the enemy.

‘Where are the spiritualists?’ she inquired.

In pieces. Well, two of them at least. The other two left.

‘Left? Where? We’re on a ship.’

They took the barges.

‘Why?’ she raised her eyebrows.

If I had to guess, I’d say they found my danger-noodles too scary and they skedaddled. The spirit explained, sounding quite unhappy about it.

‘And you let them? They will go back to wherever, and tell everyone about you.’

Firstly, there was nothing I could do about it. Secondly … oh shit.

Krissintha sighed deeply, but another question had to be asked.

‘What happened to the familiars of the two you killed?’

Uh … so … they got away. Back to the spirit-world.

Keven started to sound both unhappy and embarrassed.

‘Right. So whichever god they are attached to will also learn about you. Didn’t Wensah say it would cause all sorts of problems?’

Oh-oh.

‘Oh-oh what?’

It’s Sivera. They mentioned Sivera.

Krissintha breathed in, then breathed out. Then in again, then out. In, out. Until she calmed herself enough to keep her composure and prevent the kind of outburst she had been taught from childhood not to do in public. Better to focus on the immediate problems.

‘The rest of the crew?’ she asked.

Oh yes, there are a few up on the masts. The rest of them fled to the cabins at the back. I bet they’re shaking in fear or something. They won’t come back out. Kevin replied immediately, sounding happy about the change of topic.

Krissintha strained her eyes, trying to see the top of the masts and the rigging. A few, vaguely man-shaped shadows were moving there, but with the sails intact and obscuring most parts, she wasn’t sure.

‘So, you tried to cut down the masts?’ she asked the spirit.

Yes.

Krissintha looked the main mast up and down, observing all the ropes still holding it in place despite having been axed.

‘You didn’t think it through, did you?’ she said, scowling.

I’m not going to answer that. And does it matter? With or without sails the ship will move. You know, currents, or some other nautical nonsense.

Krissintha sighed. The spirit was probably correct, but it was worth a try. She was about to announce that they should carry on with tearing the sails down, when she heard a violent, vicious roar coming from the back of the ship. They all looked. The roar was followed by a large number of barbarians noisily spilling out onto the deck from the cabins, armed to the teeth and forming ranks.

Krissintha sighed again.

‘Didn’t you say they were hiding and shaking in fear or something?’ she asked her familiar.

Well, it looks like they were doing the “or something”. Kevin said.

‘Or something,’ Krissintha scoffed. She looked at Tomas, then at Ferin, both suddenly sweating more than the cold and salty evening air justified. They were in no shape to fight. She was in no shape to fight. That left the invisible, soul-eating spirit-monster. ‘So, how are you going to get us out of this?’