Chapter Three #3
Not a sound had emitted from Havard’s cabin.
The old man seemed harmless enough. Kooky, but harmless.
Tomorrow, Pedr would have a better idea if what Havard said was the onset of madness, or something else entirely.
Sometimes, the old guys developed a transitory madness that appeared at darkness and ebbed by morning.
The abandoned diary splayed open in the wind, pages rustling back and forth. Soothed by the sound, Pedr closed his eyes.
The sea song lulled him to sleep.
Havard sailed fearlessly.
Strangely, too.
Pedr had met all kinds of people on the wide sea, but none had been quite as odd as Havard or his ship.
The old man stomped, and light plumed. He barked something unintelligible, and a distant groaning indicated the anchor lifted from the water.
After observing a seamless dance between Havard and his ship, Pedr no longer felt any surprise that Havard commanded it alone, but that he commanded it at all.
The entire rig appeared infested with the arcane. Havard used it for nearly every little task, from changing sail positions—for which he simply touched a rope—to climbing the highest mast—for which he rode up in a bucket with no visible pulley instead of climbing rungs.
Pedr kept a wary eye out. Was he imagining things? After working long hours under the sun and with little water, he’d hallucinated before. Or Havard might be utterly mad.
When Pedr asked for food, Havard pointed to a fishing pole.
Hours later, no such luck.
At least there was fresh water. Brackish, tinted with a seaweed-like taste, but refreshing. He guzzled every hour, replenishing his sore body. In the sparkling twilight before the full evening of their first full day together, Havard stomped up the stairs to the bow and paused near Pedr’s face.
“Well?”
The bold, confusing inquiry didn’t surprise Pedr. Havard had a habit of speaking out loud mid-sentence and making no sense.
“Well what, Havard?”
He gestured to the distant horizon where a hint of land beckoned.
“Go inland.”
“Okay. Where?”
Havard shook his head, a sharp back-and-forth. Pulling a familiar, leather-bound book from the back of his pants—he tucked everything beneath his belt—he tossed the diary onto the ground at Pedr’s feet.
“Here.”
Pedr eyed it. “What’s it for?”
“To take in!”
“You want me to take the book to the island?”
Havard grimaced, a quick scrunch of his nose. The flittering of pain moved so quickly through his eyes, Pedr might have mistaken it. Havard stumbled to one side. He caught himself on the bow, then recoiled with a sharp hiss, as if it had burned him.
“Havard?”
“Him . . . mel. She’ll . . . Himmel?—”
“Himmel?”
A persuasive, gentle wind gust whistled by. Havard wheezed, falling to his knees. They knocked hard against the wooden deck. Everywhere he touched the deck, light spiraled in a rainbow, not unlike the illuminations that soared through the ropes. Pedr lowered to a knee.
“Havard?”
The old man lifted his head. He picked up his hand, fingers trembling, set it on Pedr’s shoulder. His bluish veins stood out prominently against his pale skin.
“To you,” he whispered.
Pedr frowned. “Havard, you’re not well. Let me get you a drink of water.” Not once had Pedr observed the old guy drinking or eating. Surely, he’d dehydrated himself.
Havard’s hand lowered until his finger hovered over Pedr’s heart. He paused, and Pedr realized that Havard had barely taken a breath. With a garbled cry, Havard slammed his fist into Pedr’s chest, right over his heart.
Pedr soared backward.
The force of Havard’s sternal thump sent him flying.
Pedr crashed into the wheel, his teeth slamming.
Spine jarred, he sank to the ground at the same time Havard shouted and dropped his head to the deck.
Arcane light shot out from around Havard and into the air.
Frantic winds danced. Pedr’s ears rang from the impact.
“You . . . bastid,” Pedr wheezed. “What . . . was that . . . for?”
Pedr gripped his left hand around a wheel spoke, then his right. At that exact moment, Havard’s rattling rasps quieted. As Pedr gripped the wheel with both hands, something else gripped him. He tried to retreat, but the force held true. Pedr opened his mouth to scream, but no sound emitted.
The arcane lights swirling around Havard snapped into a single straight line. Waves bashed against the hull as the light gathered on the deck. Brightening, it raced for Pedr in a streak and bashed into him with a brilliant spray.
He saw colors.
The sea.
Heard a beckoning melody.
Electricity sparked across the wheel, slipped into his fingertips, and shot through his arms. It wheeled around his body, through his skin, anchoring him to the ship. Pedr shouted, but he couldn’t hear it.
A roar sounded in his ears, overtaking him. Pure power slammed into his chest, sprawling in a star. Brawn filled him. Foreign. Gigantic. It spread until he didn’t know himself without it. Filling his bones, it robbed his breath, silenced his screams.
With a horrendous bang, his heart ceased beating.