Terry W. Ervin (43 page)

“So, your friend Hawk is a rogue healer?”

“And if he is?” asked Lilly, cautiously.

“Surprised me. Does he know the bounties Lain Healers have on rogues?”

“I’m sure he does. All he did was stop Thrall’s bleeding and tend to his own leg. Who’s Thrall going to tell?”

The sharp pain in my leg had subsided once I’d taken weight off of it. I’d learned that being a healer, my wounds mended faster. Not nearly as fast as Lilly. I knew about the bounty, but I figured Belinda and her crew wouldn’t tell anybody, and I’d be long gone if they eventually did. With the loss of Hax, we needed everyone healthy as possible.

First Mate cleared his throat and spit. “You’re right there. Thrall having no tongue. But it explains why Hawk had trouble picking up knife fighting.”

“What do you mean?” asked Lilly.

“Healers,” said First Mate, “the ones who serve Fendra Jolain, all have bodyguards. If your friend wants to become a healer of any measure, he’ll have to give up his mercenary ways.” He paused. “Violence and healing magic don’t mix.”

I’d never really considered that. I’d learned that use of magic affected the practitioners. The stronger the seer, the loss of physical eyesight. Wizards physically reflect the colors resembling their element. Thinking about necromancers and sorcerers made me shudder.

“What kind of wizard is your captain?” asked Lilly.

Nonchalantly, First Mate answered, “Air and Water.”

“Both? I’ve never heard of that.”

I agreed with Lilly. And Belinda didn’t have the blue-tinted skin of a water wizard. Her eyes were blue, but it didn’t seem the same. Her white hair was due to age, not white shifting to translucent like Prince Reveron and Grand Wizard Seelain.

“She’s been around a while and’s quite accomplished in both.”

I imagined Lilly crossing her arms and scowling as she asked, “Does that have anything to do with Roos saying she isn’t cursed, but a half-blood?”

First Mate laughed deeply. “What the Crusader suspects and what I’m willing to say about my captain…” His voice trailed off into silence. After a few minutes he added, “I’ve sailed with her on this ship for over thirty years. I’ve seen a lot. You’re not the first werebeast ever to sail with us.”

He laughed deeply again. “About eight years ago, a werewolf came onboard to watch over some cargo. Come the full moon, and him thinking he’s some sort of alpha and all.”

“What happened,” asked Lilly?

“The captain castrated him with a silver blade, froze him in a block of ice up to his neck, and pushed him overboard. Werewolves, vile creatures give all you werebeasts a bad name.”

“There aren’t many of us,” lamented Lilly. “Let alone my kind.”

“You’ve got mastery of your beast, you a true-blood?” Lilly must have nodded as First Mate continued. “How many summers have you seen?”

“Ten,” she answered.

That caught my attention. Lilly looked to be at least fifteen or sixteen years old.

“Shouldn’t we be trying to move faster?” asked Lilly.

“No. We altered our course. The captain says her elemental slew all the enemy we didn’t, including the serpent.”

“Can’t she fix the mast with her magic?”

“No. Tomorrow I’ll look at it closer, but no sense risking the sails on it when we don’t have to. Why don’t you climb up and take a look about, just in case.”

With that, their conversation ended. I rolled onto my side, tucking my arm under my head, and wondered what a half-blood was, and thought about the contradiction of healing magic with the mercenary life. Why didn’t Road Toad tell me? So many thoughts flooded my mind. Were the prince and Road Toad still alive? What about my family?

My eyes fell upon the crate holding the Blood-Sword. I drifted to sleep worrying about how I was going to negotiate a trade on behalf of Prince Reveron. One which would enable our side to strike a strong enough blow to reverse the tide of the war.

2,873 Years before the Reign of King Tobias of Keesee

Emergency backups failed. Inadequate onsite generators fell silent. The batteries worked, enabling dimmed lights to mingle with the glow of several online monitors. They paled in comparison to the spectacular as yet unseen fluctuations from the doomed experiment housed in the lead-lined, steel and concrete chamber.

“Readings off the scale,” warned Dr. Johnston. “She’s burning through.”

It wouldn’t help, thought Dr. Mindebee even as he ordered, “Drop the secondary blast containment walls.” Monitors showed unaccounted for electromagnetic waves somehow entering the chamber and rebounding out, altered from contact with the doughnut-shaped sphere. “All nonessential personnel evacuate.” He looked toward Lt. Colonel Ibrahim. “You may want to evacuate too.”

“It may be safer in here,” the soldier replied.

Dr. Mindebee knew Colonel Ibrahim wasn’t one to joke, especially during an emergency. But Dr. Mindebee couldn’t fathom anything more dangerous than remaining in close proximity to a runaway inter-dimensional experiment.

The call of seabirds in the morning sun was a welcome sound. At sunset last night Belinda the Cursed had emerged from her cabin to direct us north into a bay. First Mate said it was once called Chesapeake Bay.

Lilly watched the birds and our progress from the ship’s bow while Roos checked his equipment for the fifth time. I stood with First Mate at the wheel. “What was Chesapeake Bay named after, a queen or an empire?”

He shrugged.

“How long ago was it named?”

“That’d be best counted in centuries, I think.” He pointed to the east where the rocky, tree-lined coast was just within view. “More people than grains in a barrel of sand lived along these shores.”

I smiled at his jest, but a stern look and nod assured me he was serious, or at least believed what he said. “Along the shores? Who would feed them? There aren’t enough fish in this bay.” I looked around; nobody was listening to our conversation. “I suppose enough water wizards could use their powers to scour the sea.”

“No, not magic, Hawk.” He bit his lip, thinking. “Well, maybe magic to us.”

“Where’d they all go? I see no ships. I’ve seen no castles or towns. No smoke by day or firelight along the shore by night.”

“I only know bits and pieces of the story,” said First Mate. “I don’t even know if the captain knows it all. But, when you go ashore, you’ll see a glimmer of the past. I’ve seen the Necromancer King’s Stukas. May as well be rotting rowboats, compared to what these old eyes have seen.” He pointed to his face and grinned, his graying whiskers catching the sun. “You’ll see, Hawk.” Then his smile faded. He looked away.

“What?” I asked. Lowering my voice to a whisper, I tried again. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He glanced over his shoulder, toward Belinda’s cabin. “It is a harsh land, filled with marvels and with perils.”

I got the feeling he’d told me more than he should have, or at least more than his captain would have condoned. “You’re a good sailor, First Mate,” I said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Without you, we wouldn’t have made it this far. Maybe we’ll exchange tales, if I return.”

By late afternoon Belinda emerged from her cabin and, after a mumbled discussion with First Mate, took the wheel. She guided her ship into an inlet along the eastern shoreline.

Roos, Lilly and I watched our progress. Along the shore flew large, colorful waterfowl. Enormous deer, with thick antlers that reminded me of chicken wishbones, fed on plants where streams joined the bay. The most surprising coastal feature was the immense piles of rubble jutting skyward from the otherwise level shoreline. Covered in shrubs and vast networks of vines, these hillocks appeared unnatural, like giant barrow mounds marking tombs of the vast population First Mate said once dwelt here.

The waterway forked and Belinda chose the northern route. Roos pointed to what I’d already spied; a structure rising from just beyond the shoreline. It was like a small mountain had been carved away, leaving rectangular structures upon a broad base. As we neared, vertical rows of dark squares, Roos guessed them to be hundreds of windows, lined the outer walls. It was far taller and grander than the palace in the King’s City.

I walked over to Belinda who’d been watching us. “Once, while serving as aft-guard on one of the royal serpents, I flew over an ancient city named Milan.” Belinda gazed at me with a raised eyebrow. “I saw a building, not as large, but equally grand as this.” I pointed to our apparent destination, recalling a conversation with Road Toad that felt like it had taken place in my childhood. “You’re guiding us to the shore of an ancient city, maintained by trogs and inhabited by the wandering souls from ages past?”

She smiled and looked ahead. “You have some of the pieces, but haven’t made the connection. Troglodytes do more than repair, and the lamenting spirits don’t wander.”

I recalled the flickering blue-white lights in and around the massive castle in Milan. Road Toad had called them wandering spirits. Maybe Belinda knew more? I looked to Roos, who stared back without having anything to offer.

“It is them that you must convince to suffer your presence,” added Belinda. “I will tell you what I can, Mercenary, but it is not my place to advise you. Nor will I protect you.”

Lilly stomped back to the wheel, her face twisted in anger. First Mate reached for his cutlass, but Belinda waved him off.

“You won’t help us?” shouted Lilly. “After we saved you and your ship?”

“You did nothing to save me and my ship,” Belinda responded in a haughty tone. “You acted to save yourselves.” Pointing her bony finger at Lilly she added, “In the end it was I who saved you.”

“You want Flank Hawk dead so you can have his sword!”

I stepped between Belinda and Lilly, afraid my friend might launch herself upon the crone.

“Don’t trust her!” cried Lilly.

Lilly had a point, but without Belinda’s assistance I’d never reach my goal. First Mate might know how to reach the greater elf, but his loyalty was with his captain. “It’ll be alright, Lilly.”

A look of venom filled her eyes. “No it won’t. She wants you to fail.”

“One whom Hawk names Belinda the Cursed,” interjected Roos, his booming voice carrying across deck. “Is it ye, or the one ye shares kinship, that counsels withholding of assistance?”

“You know nothing of my lineage, Crusader.”

Roos crossed his arms. It was his turn to grin. “Thou may deny, but faith enables mine eyes to see. Ye heart pumps blood of intertwining rivers. One mortal and the other immortal.”

“There is a reason your kind are shunned,” said Belinda. “You only see what you desire to see, and nothing else.”

Lilly relaxed, looking from Roos back to the crone. I remained between the two women.

“I see truth,” said Roos. “Is it ye, or the one ye shares kinship that guides your actions?”

Belinda the Cursed stood straight, no longer pretending aged feebleness. “My loyalty is with the Colonel of the West.” She locked eyes with me. “Whether you deliver the Blood-Sword to him, or I do, matters not.”

It was too late to back out and try another route. I’d chosen this path to the greater elf. Still, I didn’t have to go meekly or let Belinda get the last word. “Unfortunately, Belinda the half-elven, you’re wrong.” Let her interpret that however she chose.

I missed my crossbow. Even slung over my shoulder it would’ve added a sense of security. I imagined it resting on the ocean bottom, slowly being covered in sand.

I waved to First Mate and Thrall as they hauled the plank onboard. Both men waved back before returning to work scrubbing the deck. Belinda led us off the aged granite pier toward the towering, ancient building. Spear in hand, I felt ready to defend myself and my friends. The weight of the Blood-Sword strapped over my shoulder reminded me why we were there.

Lilly walked just behind, to my right. Still barefoot, she wore the green shirt under her tattered sackcloth clothes. A sling with a pouch of smooth stones hung on her rope belt next to her dagger. Roos carried his gear in his backpack with blanket roll on top and gripped his freshly oiled and loaded rifle with grim confidence.

I adjusted my satchel so that I could slough it off if the need arose.

The building stood only fifty yards from the shore and it was taller than any building I could ever have imagined. Belinda called it a skyscraper. Her name for it fit. The late afternoon light revealed a new, rather than an ancient, look. The smooth walls consisting of red and gray stone were untarnished by weather or age. The reflective, blue-tinted windows were clean and uncracked. Magic certainly had played a part in its preservation.

Belinda’s black robes billowed out as she led us up a cobblestone path. Moss and creeping vines covered much of it. Stunted shrubs and trees growing along the edge showed signs of trimming; efforts that appeared to have been abandoned several years ago. None of the giant mounds that I was curious to explore were nearby.

Like walking into her personal courtyard, Belinda pulled back her hood and took in the air and surroundings. “This building in ages past welcomed visitors from across the world. They met and dined here, plotted and schemed here, maybe even forged their ultimate destruction here.”