S̆anukkat awoke with a gasp, sucking the air into her lungs like a diver who had gone without for far too long. She breathed too deeply and too greedily, though. Coughing and hacking, the girl rolled onto her knees, recoiling in disgust as she vomited out most of the wine and herb potion on the deck, narrowly missing the hem of her dress.
Damn it. Wiping her mouth dry, she settled back on her haunches. Feeling a flutter in her stomach, she rested her hand on the barest hint of a bump as she scanned the deck. Her father and most of the crew were still sprawled out on the wood; the strange elf was there too, although a faint stirring in her limbs suggested she was beginning to come to. But of her mother and her “cousin,” there was no sign. Where the hell are they?
A cursory search of the vessel turned up no clues. Which means- Her eyes fell on the creepy island rising a few hundred feet away from the ship. Why would they go there? To grind out a few levels? She shook her head. No, that can’t be it. She didn’t know her newfound relative enough to make any judgment calls about him, but her mother was brave, not foolhardy.
S̆anukkat may not have paid much attention in school, but everyone knew the stories of the accursed island. There were far, far safer ways to earn a bit of experience. But short of them having fallen overboard and drowned, the island was really the only option. But why?
There was no point in trying to figure it out. If her mother and Jasper had gone to the island alone, then they needed to get there. Now. She started to lurch toward the steering wheel, eager to set the ship in motion before remembering one little thing. She wasn’t much of a warrior. Oh, her father had drilled the basics into her, time and time again but, much to his distress, S̆ani had never seen the value of practicing combat. Unless you went looking for trouble, the palace was safe enough, so she didn't see the need.
Damn it. Why didn't I take those lessons more seriously? S̆ani cursed herself out but regained her control in a moment, forcing herself to refocus. Now was not the time to dwell on the past - as her grandmother always said, there was no point in dwelling on clouds that had already passed over the mountains. Desperate for options, the girl’s eyes wandered back to the sprawled-out body of the elf, whose arms spasmed in her sleep. I may not be a warrior, but she is.
Springing into action immediately, S̆ani jogged over to the elf, shaking her shoulder. “Hey, wake up.” The girl stirred again, rolling over on her back. Her long blonde hair tore free from its constraints, spilling across her shoulders and onto the deck like a waterfall of grain. “Wake up.”
She leaned backward as the girl’s hand shot toward her face, clawing blindly at the air. “Leave me alone. Just a few more minutes.”
S̆ani suppressed a sigh as the elf turned over on her side, away from her. Clearly not a graceful riser. But she was not going to be deterred. She didn’t know why her mother had decided to visit the island, but they needed to go save her. Shaking the girl’s shoulders more forcefully, she practically screamed this time. “WAKE UP!”
The elf’s eyes flew open, revealing her pale, ice-blue eyes. “What-where am I?”
S̆ani shook her head impatiently. “You’re on my mother’s boat. But my mother and your friend have gone off by themselves and I’m pretty sure they’re in danger.”
That got Ihra’s attention. Bolting up, she met S̆ani’s gaze with a level stare. “Fill me in.”
It took some effort, but ten minutes later, the others on the boat had been roused. Forcibly.
Her father had been the hardest to wake, so hard that S̆ani suspected he had been given a double dose of whatever drugs her mother had slipped into their drinks. It was only when, much to Ihra’s shock, S̆ani resorted to slicing open his hand that the knocked-out Djinn finally woke from his unnatural slumber with a bellow of rage. That anger dissipated, though, as soon as he caught sight of the island lying off the ship’s bow. “Damn it, Kaṣî. Why didn’t you tell me what were you planning? At the very least I could have gone with you.” He groused to himself.
The crew had already raised the anchor and set the sails toward the dock, but S̆arrābī forbid it. “We can't take the risk of docking and letting the qebrū sneak on board,” he thundered, prowling up and down the deck like a caged tiger. “Prepare the rowboats.” It delayed them further, but not by much. In a display of strength S̆ani had rarely seen from her father, the Djinn lord set the anchor himself and snapped the chains that bound the boats to the deck.
As they slipped across the waters, the eerie silence of the island was only broken by the splashing of the oars and the heavy breathing of the crew. Splish. Splash. The sound grated on her, only amping up S̆ani’s nerves. Her hands twisted together as the dock grew closer and closer, far too slowly for her liking, as she tried again and again, failing more often than. not, to summon the handful of spells she actually knew: Icicle and Frostfire. The same spells I had when I was twelve. Her cheeks flushed with shame at the realization. Unconsciously, her hand drifted again to her belly as she vowed to herself that, if her mother lived, she would earn some levels. For her mother. For her child.
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Jasper’s feet raced across the broken pavement stones, somehow deftly avoiding the ruts and crevices, as he charged toward the forest. The forest where more utukkū were already making their way toward them. Crap.
Then he remembered his new spell. Idiot. Why am I running? A second later the essence surged through his fingers as he cast Spectral Wings. A ripple of pain ran down his spine as the pinions emerged and then the ground fell away. He could see his aunt running in front of him; the elven woman looked as if she was halfway transformed into a deer. Her limbs were a bit too long, her arms swinging dangerously close to the ground, and patches of fur covered her skin, but she ran with a grace he couldn’t hope to match. But his wings were more than a match for her speed. He was almost to the edge of the forest.
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Swick.
A chain wrapped tight around his ribs, squeezing the breath out of him in a guttural scream of agony that broke the silent vigil of the woods. His cry lasted only a half-second before he was slammed into the paving stones. The ancient alabaster cracked beneath his impact, sinking into the soft soil below. The chains loosened, sliding back toward their mistress, and he struggled to get to his feet. He had barely risen to a crouch when the chains came slicing back toward him, hitting him square in the chest. Jasper was thrown backward, tumbling head over heels from the force of the blow. He landed facedown, groaning as his hands fought to gain purchase against the ground. I’ve got to get up.
The fast patter of steps echoed close behind him and, spurred by desperation, he managed to rise. But it was too late. A second later, he was tossed up in the air, landing hard on a bony shoulder.
He struggled awkwardly against the iron grip that held him, but it was no use. The utukku’s strength was overwhelming. Screaming in frustration, he pulled on every shred of essence he could summon, prepared to release it all in a devastating, do-or-die, spell, but his captor shook him violently against her shoulder.
“Yas̆peh, stop! It’s me.” It took a second for him to recognize the voice and then he realized who his captor was. His aunt had come back for him. Releasing the essence he had gathered, he let his head fall down against his shoulder. It wasn't a momentary lapse of judgment as, with every bounding leap she took, his head smashed into hers with a painful crunch.
Snapping his head back up, he struggled in her grasp. “Put me down,” he managed to rasp out. “I can fly us out of here.”
“No,” his aunt snapped. “There's no time to stop. Besides, I'm faster.” And as he watched her navigate through the trees, he realized the elf was right. Jasper thought he had been flying fast, but the speed with which his partially transformed aunt raced through the forest made him look like he’d been stuck in molasses. He still didn’t exactly like being slung over her shoulder like a fussy toddler, but survival was more important than his dignity. I’m never telling this story to Ihra, though, he vowed to himself.
His aunt quickly veered off the little path he had carved out on his way to the smaller village, turning back toward the lake and their waiting ship. It was shorter, as the crow flies, but the trees here hadn’t been broken down. Instead, their boughs and limbs crossed to and fro with an almost impenetrable thickness that seemed sure to slow them down. What is she doing?
Kaṣîtūma answered that question decisively. A blade of ice tore from her fingers, slicing through the foliage ahead of them to forge a path. Whatever the spell didn’t clear, she simply forced her way through, ignoring the sharp, broken shafts that poked and scratched at them. Time and again, she cast the spell as she continued her headlong flight toward the docks.
The previous silence that had hung over the island was thoroughly shattered now. From all sides, howls and cries filled the air. A shadow appeared behind them, quickly growing as it came into view. With every step it took, the chains flailed wildly in the underbrush, but the utukku was unhindered as it charged after them.
Though his head was banging relentlessly against her shoulder, Jasper still managed to cast the spell. He’d been through worse. In seconds, burning claws sprang up from the ground, snapping tight around the creature’s ankles.
For a moment, it held, and his aunt gained ground on the beast. The utukku screamed in pain, clawing at the fiery manacles clasped around her legs uselessly. But then her hands being to glow like the stars above; a veritable stream of essence gushed out of her into the manacles and in a cloud of ash and flame they burst asunder.
It had bought them time, but not enough.
“Fiery Shackles,” he screamed, casting the spell again. But the utukku knew how to defeat the spell now. Her progress was hindered but for a moment before she resumed her headlong pursuit. And in the trees around them, Jasper could hear the sounds of crashing logs and breaking limbs. The others were almost upon them. Crap.
The next blast of his aunt’s spell released an almost blinding ray of moonlight into the dark forest. The open, rocky beach yawned before them and, not too far away, the dock. We’re almost there. A handful of figures stood there, and he squinted his eyes, unable to make out their features in the darkness.
With a groan, the trees to their left parted, revealing a utukku. The creature rocketed into his aunt, sending them all flying toward the beach below. He bounced along the craggy boulders with enough momentum for the sharp rocks to pierce his toughened skin in a half dozen places and landed hard. His head, smashed into one rock after another, was ringing as he stumbled into his feet, blinking his eyes.
Two utukku stood before him, crouched over his two aunts. My two aunts? It didn’t sound right, but he couldn’t think clearly. All he could focus on was the creature. Its head was bent low over her chest, and he could see the thorny tendrils from its eyes extending toward her skin. I have to stop it.
Stepping forward, he fumbled for his essence. It moved sluggishly and, confused by his jumbled mind, the spell refused to take form. Dimly he was aware in the background of what sounded like human voices screaming, but he couldn’t understand them.
Abandoning his efforts, he snapped his sword free from its sheath and swung it straight at the creature’s neck. The undead priestess hadn’t even been looking at him, but her hand snaked out to catch the blade anyways. The sword dug deep into the utukku’s palm, blood flowing freely, but her grip held firm. With a sudden twist, she wrenched her arm into a wholly unnatural angle, taking the sword, still clutched tightly in Jasper’s hand, with it. The utukku’s arm wasn’t harmed; Jasper, on the other hand, screamed in pain as multiple bones snapped.
The pain was good for one thing, though. Like a bucket of cold water, it snapped him out of his fugue. It took only a second for the essence to answer his call as he breathed fire directly on the creature, praying he wasn’t harming his aunt who was trapped beneath the utukku.
The creature stumbled backward, screaming in pain as the fire quickly blossomed across her body. She thrashed frantically against the ground, her long, unnatural limbs twitching awkwardly, but Jasper paid no attention to the being. Cradling his broken arm, he dashed forward and frantically grabbed Kaṣîtūma. A huge gash ran down the side of her head, so badly torn that the bone beneath was revealed, and the ice armor she was encased in was torn and shattered by thick wooden splinters that skewed her. Somehow she was still conscious. Though his aunt's eyes were barely open more than slits, she managed to latch onto him as he pulled her away from the creature.
But he wasn't alone. He had taken no more than five steps when he was thrown onto his back, landing hard against the rocky beach as another utukku leapt from the trees. In a moment, it had pinned him down. Its strength overpowering, but he already knew that now. Wasting no time on trying to shake off the creature, Jasper summoned the essence to his mouth, releasing another belch of fire.
Blistering pain bloomed in his mouth as his skin melted beneath the steady stream of fire, but he persisted. I have to get it off me. Perhaps this utukku was more powerful than the last, for it stubbornly clung to him despite the fire that raged across its body.
Until, that is, a blur of red and black smashed into the two of them, sending them spinning to the ground.