Saccath got to his feet. His eyes were lit with fury. “Th –that will cost you your life, little girl.” He turned and ran towards the ship’s bow. Going for the lodestone in the foredeck. Standard Keltar to Keltar tactics. Whoever dominates the lodestone has a decisive positional advantage in height and power. Up to now, Saccath had not even bothered with tactics. Lyall remembered telling Shann that the Keltars’ greatest flaw was their overconfidence. Turns out we are not quite the pushover you thought.
Lyall pelted after him, followed by Keris and Shann. He wanted to order Shann again to stay back, but she had already proved her bravery and competence beyond anything he could have expected–and they were going to need every advantage they could get. It was at that moment that he spotted something out of the corner of his eye–something that gave him renewed hope.
“All three of us–mannatar gambit. Sting and retreat,” Lyall called as he ran.
“He will be familiar with that,” Keris pointed out.
“Yes, but I have a surprise planned,” Lyall said, “one that isn’t covered in shassatan.”
Keris shot him a look but said nothing.
Saccath reached the foredeck and fully extended his cloak, hurtling upwards. He was closely followed by Keris, then Lyall and Shann. As the four of them met in midair, the deck rang with an array of blows.
Shann was struggling with her unwieldy oar, warding off Saccath’s attacks as best she could. Suddenly, he whirled his diamond blade and sliced her oar in two, narrowly missing her hand. She threw the paddle half away and gripped the handle end, which was more attuned to her size.
As they sank back downwards, Keris pulled away from the fray, dived towards the foredeck and then immediately pushed off from the lodestone again. As she passed Shann, she pushed off the upper lodestone layer of the girl’s cloak to gain an extra boost in height. Keris shot into the air whilst Shann was knocked flat against the deck. Using the poorly armed girl as a lodestone baseline made perfect sense as a tactic, but Lyall had a feeling that Shann wouldn’t see it that way. There would be time enough later to debate such minutiae–if they all made it through this alive.
Keris reached the apex of her leap and began to drop rapidly, angling towards Saccath, who was now rising to meet her. He had read her actions and was braced for her assault. As they met, there was a concussion of wood against wood. They strained against each other–a contest of strength and wills.
Shann was still getting to her knees–the breath had been knocked out of her. Lyall glanced sideways towards the deck–it seemed that his little surprise was ready. Time to end this.
The rain continued to pelt down as Lyall launched himself upward once more. He made no attempt to engage the Keltar. Instead he called out to Keris, “Mannatar–withdraw.” Keris seemed not to hear as she pressed her attack. She and Saccath were beginning to sink slowly towards the deck. “Withdraw.” She disengaged herself and pulled away. Saccath swung his staff, the diamond blade slashing her arm as she fell. Lyall backed off, leaving Saccath alone in midair. “Now.”
Instantly, the air around Saccath congealed and he was struck with a giant invisible fist. The bald Keltar’s mouth opened as he was hurled backwards and disappeared over the ship’s prow. Lyall landed next to Shann and helped her to her feet. They both made their way to the forward rail where Keris was already standing, her long dark hair blowing about her face in the strong wind. Lyall leaned over the rail and scanned the water. The sea was slate grey, strong winds plucking spray from the choppy waves. Of Saccath, there was no sign.
“Is he gone?” The three cloaked figures at the rail turned to see Alondo standing before them. He had slung his vortex arm behind him. Boxx was by his side–bobbing up and down in curious fashion.
“It would seem so,” Lyall replied. “I’m sorry you had to do that, but we had no choice.”
“Well, I for one won’t miss him.” Alondo grinned through the pelting rain.
“Impressive,” Keris said. “I suppose we should call that the ‘Alondo gambit.’” She walked past Alondo and carefully picked up something from the deck, holding it reverently. Saccath’s staff. Dropped in his final moments of panic. She walked over to Shann and held the staff out to her. The girl looked distinctly self-conscious with everyone looking at her. “You fought bravely,” Keris declared. “This is yours by right–to replace that which was lost.” Lyall and Alondo both nodded their assent. Shann reached out and took hold of the staff as if she was expecting it to bite her at any moment.
Lyall suddenly remembered something. “Patris.”
“I checked him–he’s alive,” Alondo smiled again. “Maybe we should throw him overboard so he can keep his ‘friend’ company?”
Lyall looked at him disapprovingly. “He didn’t ask to be in this situation. I was the one who decided that we should be less than honest with him about the true purpose of this voyage. If anything, the fault is mine.”
“What do you want us to do with him?” Alondo asked.
Lyall looked up at the carrack, its sails still towering over their ship’s stern. The shipmaster was no doubt already speculating at how events had played out over here–debating over what should be his next move. There was not much time.
“You and Boxx get him into the launch. Keris, Shann–let’s get this ship moving.”
~
Shann stood on the foredeck of the Reach, fumbling at the straps on the harness that now enveloped her shoulders and upper torso. Her fingers felt numbed by the constant wind and rain. Lyall, who had already completed his adjustments, came over to help her. Keris stood a short way off, her own harness tethered to the iron rings which had been set into the deck for this very purpose. Waiting patiently.
Lyall smiled at Shann encouragingly, as he checked her over. “You understand how to do this?”
Shann fought back the feeling of being patronised. “Leap off using lodestone. Then retract the upper lodestone layer and extend bronze.”
“Correct. However, it’s important that the three of us act in concert, so that we pull at the same time. We leap together. Then extend bronze together on my signal, all right?”
Shann nodded. As usual, she found his intense blue eyes reassuring. She wanted to ask him about Saccath’s taunts concerning events at Persillan and about his sister, but this was clearly neither the time nor the place. Keris was standing, listening to every word, and she had no wish to embarrass him. Besides, Lyall was right–getting the ship underway was their priority right now.
She and Keris took up positions to Lyall’s right and left. “Ready?” he called. “Go.”
They ran a few steps towards the ship’s prow, extended their cloaks and leaped into the space above the deck. Just like the three perridons in Arval’s tale, Shann mused. As the line went taut, she felt the strain of the harness against her shoulders. She looked across and saw the others alongside her, suspended in midair and raised her hand to her neck control, awaiting the signal from Lyall.
“Now.”
As she withdrew the lodestone and simultaneously extended her bronze, she felt a subtle change of pressure on her harness. For an eternity nothing happened. Then a shout from below. It was Alondo. “She’s moving.” He ran towards the stern, climbed the ladder to the afterdeck and took up position at the ships rudder. Boxx scampered after him.
Slowly, determinedly, Annata’s Reach came about and headed into The Great Barrier of Storms.
~
It was unlike anything Shann had ever experienced before. The colossal tempest assailed her senses. Rain lashed against her face, obscuring her vision. Cracks of blue lightning blinded and deafened her. Wind buffeted her small body like a dozen mailed fists. Before long, it felt to her as if she were surviving on willpower alone.
It was impossible to tell if they were making any progress. Beneath them, the Aronak Sea lifted up their tiny ship on waves the size of mountains before dropping them just as suddenly into valley-like troughs in between. She fancied she could hear
Lyall yelling encouragement, but the maelstrom immediately ripped up his words and threw them away contemptuously.
Above the cacophony of sound, Shann had the impression of a high pitched whine below. She glanced down to see Boxx on the foredeck. It seemed to be pointing aft. She hazarded a look over her shoulder. Through the mist and rain she saw the unmistakeable shape of the carrack. Sails trimmed to beat against the gale. Bearing down on them.
A sudden concussion–but this time it was not lightning. The sea burst ahead of them as the lodestone cannon overshot its mark. Again Lyall shouted something. She could not make out what he was saying, but she got the message clear as crystal. The Prophet’s ship was no longer trying to cripple their vessel. It was trying to sink her.
There was another impact just off their larboard quarter. Shards of timber blew out as their ship listed violently to starboard, then righted itself. The wooden hull creaked in protest. Lyall shouted and pointed downwards.
Shann nodded and adjusted her neck control, withdrawing the bronze and partially extending her lodestone layer so that she drifted downwards to where Boxx was waiting patiently. As her boots made contact with the rain-slicked deck, she was already tearing at the straps of her harness. She tore it free, letting it fall to the deck, and raced to the port rail, with Boxx behind her. Leaning over the side, she saw shattered timbers floating on the sea. The side of the ship was now marked by a dark gash. They were holed just above the waterline.
Shann had barely had a moment to survey the damage when she heard a loud retort followed by a terrible rending of wood and canvass. As she peered into the mist and spray, she saw the pursuing vessel heeled violently over to larboard. The titanic storms had slapped it like a petulant child, toppling the mainmast and snapping the mizzen mast in two. The flame symbol of the Prophet still fluttered boldly as the ship was blown onto its side by the howling winds. Crewmembers jumped or were thrown into the turbulent waters. Shann realised with a sickening feeling that there was nothing she could do to save them. Slowly, the Prophet’s ship began to capsize.
As she watched the death throes of the carrack, Shann found that she was unable to tear her eyes away. The stern was gradually swallowed by the enveloping waters, causing the prow to rise up in one final gesture of defiance before finally slipping beneath the waves. In a few moments, the sea had closed over the once proud vessel, so that there was nothing to mark its passing.
Shann jerked herself back to reality. They had to do something about the breach in their hull, or the Reach would soon be joining the other vessel at the bottom of the sea. She started back to where Lyall and Keris were still straining, pulling their battered cog through the storms. Then she saw it. A shaft of light burst through the whirling clouds, revealing a sliver of azure blue sky beyond, like a flash of hope. Suddenly an immense wave crashed against the starboard side of the ship. The deck lurched under her and she was flung backwards in the flood of seawater. Boxx was tumbling towards the ship’s rail. Shann lunged at the creature, grabbing it round its midriff just as a second wave burst over the side. She was hurled back again. Then the world exploded as her head hit the rail and she was tossed over the side of the ship, still clutching the Chandara. Shann experienced an instant of free-fall before hitting the water with a splash. Her ears were instantly muffled as she felt herself sinking below the waves, and gradually her consciousness slipped away.
~
It began with a merest suggestion of warmth. Slowly, the suggestion became a sensation and the sensation moved outwards from its birthplace. Spreading. Growing. Its tendrils insinuated themselves, enlivening and animating all that they touched. Slowly the warm feeling changed colour and intensified, becoming…pain. Slowly, determinedly, Shann opened her eyes.
There was a round head above her. Its eyes were closed and its mouth quivered oddly. The head had a name. “Boxx.”
The creature opened its eyes and the sensation of warmth faded. “You Are Awake,” it said.
Shann’s head felt muzzy. Her back ached and she realised she was lying on something hard. She tilted her head to her left. Smooth round stones stretched away into the distance. There was the sound of water, lapping gently. A beach. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again.
“Wh-where is this?”
“This Is Beyond.”
“Beyond the Great Barrier?”
“Yes, Beyond.”
“Lyall…Alondo…where are they?”
“Gone.”
“The ship?”
“It Is Gone.”
Shann’s mind kicked in, replaying her most recent memories. They were pulling Annata’s Reach through the storm barrier–the other ship fired–they were hit–she saw the Prophet’s ship go down in the storms–a wave struck them–she clung to Boxx to stop him being swept overboard–then…what?
She struggled to sit up. Her salt-stained clothes had partially dried in the warmth of the suns and they felt stiff.
“How did I get here?”
“The Tree–It Bore Us.”
It indicated a large timber laying half out of the water–from the Reach’s smashed hull. She got to her feet. Her muscles protested loudly, but she ignored them. The sky looked peculiar–a deep cerulean blue, unbroken, save for a few wisps of cloud. Ail-Mazzoth was gone–lost somewhere beyond the distant horizon, where the Great Barrier brooded like an angry frown.
She turned and walked up the stony beach. Ail-Kar was chasing Ail-Gan towards a line of hills to the east. The beach gave way to a shelf of grey rock, strewn with boulders. There were strange patches of white powder on the ground. Shann bent down to touch one. It felt cold–colder than anything she had ever felt before. Curiously, she scooped up a little of the powder and held it in her hand. It seemed to be made up of tiny crystals. She watched in fascination as the crystals turned to…water. She raised her hand to her mouth and allowed the drops to fall on her tongue. They were deliciously cool. She scraped up a handful of the stuff, ignoring the growing numbness in her fingers. Soon, she had slaked her thirst.
Boxx had climbed onto a small boulder and was watching her patiently. As the suns began to set, she felt the air grow colder. Shann began to shiver. The light was fading rapidly, and the sky was gradually turning darker and darker, blue into black. Suddenly, a bright point appeared. But it was not one of the streaks of light that appeared regularly over the skies of her home. It hung motionless overhead. Shann gasped as another appeared near it…and then another. Soon the blackened sky was filled with twinkling points of light, like diamonds on velvet, filling her vision. The words of Alondo’s tale back at the Calandra came back to her. “It was a land of the darkest dark, where the sky is bright, but there are no suns.” Her mind reeled. It was true–Arval had been here.
She turned to Boxx. The Chandara was perched on its rock, its upturned face illuminated by the myriads of tiny lights. “What are they?” she asked.
Boxx’s high pitched voice was charged with reverence. “They Are Called Stars.”
— End of Book One —
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