Chapter 39 Chimeric #2
“The chimeric will pierce it,” Dev said. “Aro’el has assured it.”
I gasped and swung around to him.
“Do you think?”
“Worth a shot,” he said.
“Literally.” I grinned.
He glanced eagerly at the captain.
“The Touchstone is yours, Dev,” said Thanavar. “Aro’el, make it swift. Make it count. We are all depending on you.”
My heart swelled.
“Aye, Captain!”
And we bounded from the quarterdeck to the guns. Buck turned.
“One shot, Buck,” said Dev. “That’s all we need.”
The bosun cocked his wide head.
And Dev pointed across the dark, glittering water to the tiny handprint, still gleaming on the Endorathil’s starboard hull.
“One shot, right there. She’ll go up like a firecracker.”
Buck nodded and turned to the gunners on deck.
“Reload, boys! Time to earn yer rum!”
“Full sail, Mr. Neale,” cried Thanavar. “We must catch her if we are to sink her!”
“Aye, sir.”
The Touchstone veered, leaning hard into the wind.
Opposite us, the Marelethan also was coming about, and I could see Smoke’s gundeck at the ready.
Chase guns blasted from the Endorathil’s sterncastle, raking down the length of the Marelethan and shattering the bulwarks of her quarterdeck.
She would not be able to draw fire. We were alone.
“Closer, Mr. Neale,” said Dev. “Closer.”
I could see the Rhi’Ahr now, swiftly reloading and taking aim with what was left of their upper deck guns.
“They’ll fire by the count of ten,” said Dev. “Can you stop them, Blue?”
I had stopped a dozen balls once. Fully loaded, the Endorathil could fire at least thirty per side, and more from the topdeck, if they were able. I didn’t have a chance in hels.
“Aye, Dev. I can.”
And I held out my hands, called on the chimeric that surged through my veins. They throbbed and stung, but the power coursed from my chest into my fingertips.
“Closer, Mr. Neale…”
Sweeping past her pup, past her quarterdeck. We were as vulnerable now as she to cannon fire, and I’m certain my heart stopped beating.
Protection spell. Dev drew the symbols with both hands in front of me, and the patterns burst to life, sparkling with light and rune.
I sent them to Dev, and he caught them, expanding, extending, and augmenting the magic, and together, we flung them wide, just as the Endorathil’s cannons boomed at us, sending a volley of shot our way.
I closed my eyes, repeating the incant and praying it would hold. If not, I’d be dead before it was done.
Multiple impacts slid me back along the deck, but I opened my eyes to see the rune holding and twelve, no, thirteen balls caught in the weave. Another and another, but it held, and I lived.
“Drop it, Blue! Make ready, Buck!”
I flung my arms apart, sending both rune and balls into the sea.
“Make for the hand, boys!” shouted Buck.
“And fire!”
“Fire!”
“Fire!”
The deck of the Touchstone shook as our cannons thundered, the guns packing a short but mighty wallop when they connected. And they did, hammering the shots home.
Kill it. Sink it. Make it bleed.
No direct hit, and we were moving swiftly past her. The Rhi’Ahr were reloading, and I began to lose hope.
Teeth from the water, iron from the Tree.
I leaned onto the rail.
“Touchstone,” I breathed. “I need your help. Take me to the water.”
Aro’el.
And I climbed over the side.
“Aro’el!” barked the captain.
“What the suns?” cried Dev.
I climbed down her hull to the waterline. I had no rope to steady me, no cable, but she gave me the steps from her battered, shattered plank and stave. I twisted above the surface, braced my back against her hull.
Aro’el, bite.
And I turned my face to the Endorathil.
“You made me,” I growled. “Now, I unmake you.”
I leaned down and dipped my fingers into the sea. Immediately, chimeric raced across the water toward the cruiser. It crackled up her hull to stop at the gleaming mark where I’d laid my hand.
“Now, Buck!” cried Dev.
“One lucky shot,” I whispered. “Just one.”
The cannon boomed, and I watched the single shot cross the gap between the ships, homing in on the beacon that was the chimeric. Deep called to deep, rune to rune, and with the accuracy of an arrow, the ball struck home.
A wave of light rippled across the Endorathil’s hull, and rune shimmered from prow to stern. I could read this new pattern, could read the flaws in her design and cracks in her integrity. But it was only for a heartbeat, for following the pattern came the fire.
Like the lighting of a cannon’s wick, fire sparked along the runelines, cracking the hull from the inside out in perfect, patterned symmetry.
Soon, her entire hull was a sizzling puzzle, and she burst, sending a wall of heat and flames toward the Touchstone.
I turned my face away from the blast, my back scorching in the fiery wind.
Sections of the great ship’s hull tore away, sliding from her very bones into the sea. And the sea rushed in.
The Endorathil’s groan roared over the chaos.
She was riding low amidships but higher at prow and stern.
Her foremast and mizzen began to tilt toward each other, and a deafening crack echoed across the waves.
Within moments, she had fully split, cleft in two by the ocean and me, and both parts began to slide into the sea.
Swabs leaped into the water, desperate to be free. Sinking ships sucked hapless crew down with them, and I remembered with horror the feel of the void, the blackness of the deep, and the eyes of Corwen the powder boy. This was for him.
A line dropped down by my cheek. I grabbed it, and they pulled me up.
Thanavar was at the rail now, and he looked down at me.
“Well done, Aro’el,” he said, his eyes beaming with pride. I wanted him to throw his arms around me, but I settled for the praise.
Echo and Tek joined us at the rail, along with my mother. In silence, we all watched as the Endorathil slowly slipped under the waves, leaving only a few dozen seamen to splash helplessly in her wake.
“Convention would have us save them,” Thanavar said after a long moment. “But we have suffered these events precisely because, years ago, I showed mercy to Kinrath Ilvalour.”
“Captain,” warned Echo.
“And what would we do with them?” It was my mother, her face bloodied, her long black hair filled with splinters. “Return them to Nethersea? And by what vessel? I don’t think you want this ship found in Rhi’Ahr waters.”
“We don’t go to Nethersea,” said Echo. “We follow protocol.”
“And take them to High Temple?” asked Thanavar. “What fate would they meet there?”
“That is outside of our authority,” said Echo. “Our duty is to ferry prisoners to the Navy at the next port of call.”
“And what, good Doctor, would the Navy do with us once we arrive?”
“We have our Letter of Marque.”
“You know how the Navy regards our Letter of Marque,” said Thanavar.
“Dev, please,” said Echo. “Talk to him.”
“Gav,” said Dev. “We take them back.”
The Marelethan swept along our starboard side.
“Well fought!” shouted Smoke. “We’ll round up all the soggy, fish-faced Rhi’Ahr jades, take ’em back to old Boney! Ah, no offense, Dev!”
“We fought well, but so did they,” said Thanavar quietly. “There is no shame in an honorable death.”
“We take them back,” I said abruptly, and they all swung to look at me.
I clasped my hands behind my back and squared my face on the captain.
“I’m here as Navy,” I began, “and as your keel. With the exception of Ilvalour, we don’t know if any of these sailors are responsible for the Tree. We take them to the king.”
I could see his jaw clench, his lips tighten as he fought to control his fury. I stepped closer, could almost hear the blood pulsing through his veins.
“You don’t want any more blood on your hands, Kier,” I said quietly. “You don’t need it.”
I could see the runes spinning behind his eyes as he searched mine.
“There is no dishonor,” he seethed. “A captain goes down with his ship.”
“There is no dishonor in mercy, either. And sometimes, you need to listen to the bell.”
The Touchstone rose and fell on the cold waters of the bay. The wind plucked at our hair, mine as dark as the erthe, his as deep as the sea, hiding and seeking but free to be found.
It seemed like we stood for lifetimes, silent but storming, before he released a breath and stepped back.
“Have Mr. Oakum take the survivors into his hold.” His voice was low and barely restrained. “I will not have them on this ship.”
His eyes bore into mine, his rage barely restrained.
“But if Ilvalour is among the survivors, I will kill him myself. Do you understand?”
I swallowed and nodded stiffly.
And with that, he whirled and disappeared into the hatch.
My legs were trembling, but my nerve was strong, despite the cold he left in his wake.
“Thank you, Ensign,” said the doctor. “That was the right thing to do.”
I nodded swiftly and pushed the hollowness back down.
I turned to the rail to watch the Marelethan slowly tack port toward the Endorathil’s watery grave and begin to pull surviving Rhi’Ahr seamen from the waters.
Dev fell in at my side, saying nothing, both of us trying to quiet the lingering horror of what we’d just been through.
At some point, I noticed a sound. A hum in the distance that grew louder, angrier, and the waters of the bay began to rise.
They rose and fell, like a Thrum and a Call, and the wind picked up, snapping what was left of canvas and line.
I glanced around at the horizon, the roiling clouds, and the raging Dreadwall on either side of the island.
The curtain of water was shimmering once more, alive with chimeric like tiny shards of glass.
“What the hels?” muttered Dev.
Suddenly, a line appeared in the towering waters of the Dreadwall.
To the north and to the south, the dam began to split, the raging tide drawing to each side like a curtain.
It went on and on and on to the north, through the Silence and through the Sheets, and I knew it would finally open onto Oversea, welcoming any ship foolish enough to enter the gap.
“The Cloudgate Channel,” I breathed. “That’s no coincidence.”
“No,” said Dev, and he laid a hand on the rail. “The Touchstone is home.”