Текст книги "Regent"

Автор книги: Brian Rathbone

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 15

Our greatest limitations are often self-imposed.

– Dirk Burunda, mountain climber

Durin had known Prios his entire life and knew he was a nice man with Durin's best interest at heart, but he couldn't stop the fear from stirring in his belly. A tongueless man with such power was in itself somehow frightening, but it was the need in Prios's battle-weary eyes that terrified Durin. It made him accept that his actions may have resulted in Sinjin's death. That thought haunted him, and he wanted nothing more than to believe that this tunnel would lead him to Sinjin, Brother Vaughn, and even Trinda, but so far this new section of Dragonhold had proven to be little more than empty rooms and halls. The deep rumbles that came from the heart of the mountain had been the most interesting part of their journey thus far, that was, until Prios had arrived.

Durin and Strom had been walking at a brisk pace while they explored the halls, but some three hours into the journey, Durin had turned around to find Prios stalking him. His shriek had given Strom a start, but then they had seen the look in Prios's eyes. He needed to know if this was the way to where Sinjin was. No words were required. And of those who had come with Prios, none spoke. When Durin spotted Kendra and Khenna, he looked away, still troubled by their presence. Prios, though, had pushed them on, his herald globe brightly charged and shining the way.

Since then, they had been searching through an area that must have once held more people than currently lived on the Godfist. Durin found it depressing. Why would anyone choose to live in darkness, in a place of cold stone that seemed to suck the joy from the air? At least that was how it felt to Durin. Perhaps it was only the product of his current mood, but the tense silence seemed to indicate that the others felt the same. The inherent sense of order in the place also bothered Durin. Here rested an abandoned city, yet the halls were clear, and not a bit of refuse could be found. The chambers they did explore were bare as well, adding to the mystery. It was as if the city had been built as a precaution and had never actually been occupied.

Rumbling echoes continued to break the silence at seemingly random intervals, and each time Prios listened intently. It seemed impossible to tell where the sounds were actually coming from, but Prios continued to lead them with what appeared to be confidence. Strom walked by his side, not questioning Prios's judgment. More meticulously carved entranceways lined rough-hewn corridors, but it came as a shock when they reached an imposing hall, the corridor turning left and right around the perimeter of the hall, and the most elaborate entrance yet stood directly before them, ready to welcome them or devour them-Durin couldn't tell which. Mighty creatures, from dragons to giant cats, had been carved around the entranceway, and their beauty was eclipsed by only the fear they generated. Prios gave them but a single glance. Only Strom's sideways look and his subsequent checks over his shoulder made Durin feel any better.

Every footfall sent echoes cascading through the halls, and Durin knew that if there was anything alive in this place, it surely knew they were there. The place must have been designed to carry sound from the dais to the audience, and it did its job well. Prios's sharp hiss reverberated throughout the hall, and Durin fought the urge to hide.

Before them lay the remains of what had once been a finely dressed man. His clothing had been almost perfectly preserved, though his body was a desiccated hull that somehow still clung to his bones. Most shocking was the simple dagger wedged between two ribs and leaving no doubt that this man, whomever he was, had been murdered. The thought made Durin look over his shoulder, though it was obvious this crime had taken place in the distant past. After listening intently to the faraway thumps and rumbles, Prios led them from the amphitheater, and Durin couldn't help looking over his shoulder, wondering if the murderer were lurking in the shadows.

The sound of creaking timbers and a low buzz filled the air as the dark ships encroached. Catrin turned to Kenward. "Do you remember the drills we ran when we were lost trying to find the Firstland?"

"We weren't exactly lost; we just didn't know how to get where we were going," Kenward said, but he stumbled when he saw Catrin's exasperated look. "Yes, I remember."

"Can we do something like we did that time you turned to the side at the last moment?"

"I don't know that it would work," Kenward said. "Much of that technique relied on the water, and empty air would not provide the same effect. That would just put our weakest side forward."

"What do you plan to do, then?"

"We'll slip between two ships, turn, and ram one of them in the belly."

"Slip between the ships that have lightning flowing between them?" Pelivor asked, his voice high pitched and strained.

"I didn't say it was a perfect plan. What do you suggest?"

"I suggest we try to gain more altitude. That's the only thing that will give us room to move."

Catrin swallowed hard, knowing she'd already given her best effort, and she assumed that Pelivor had as well. This last effort might be in vain, but she had to try. Working at the wooden tube, turbulent air fought her, demanding its freedom and refusing to do her bidding. Still, she managed to gain a bit more speed, and Pelivor, his outstretched hands crawling with energy, lifted the ship higher. The dark ships stayed just above the water, and from the Eel's current height, they would slam into the masts and rigging of the approaching ships. Pelivor cried out as his arms trembled, and the veins stood out on his neck as he tried, without success, to get them high enough to clear the other ships.

"Get ready to board the ship to port!" Kenward shouted, and Catrin nearly lost her concentration. She could not bear the thought of the Slippery Eel's crew going to their deaths. She could see the demons on the other ships now and with them, men. Dressed in black armor and looking as if they bathed in ashes, men worked alongside demons. It was a terrifying sight. Some wore the mark of the hammer, which was Thorakis's sigil, but Catrin could still not figure out why Thorakis would do such things and align himself with evil. It made no sense.

"One more try," Pelivor shouted as the ships moved close enough for lightning to reach out to the Slippery Eel's rigging. Catrin let out a cry of her own as she reached for the comets, begging for the energy she needed, pleading with the goddess for more power. If only she'd had Koe or her staff, but she had none of that. All she would wield would be the sword Strom had made for her against his own will. It was a beautiful blade with a magic of its own, but Catrin was uncertain how much use that magic would be under these circumstances. Nonetheless, the feeling of the pommel in her hand steadied her, and she held the blade high.

Just as impact was imminent, the hull thrummed, and the ship lurched upward. Knees bent, Catrin absorbed the upward thrust and did her best to take advantage of the gained height. Pelivor shouted with what sounded like a mixture of terror and relief as they soared above the towering masts.

A momentary slowing and the sound of snapping rigging gave everyone pause as it seemed they had not gotten away clean after all. Catrin moved to the rail and looked down to see wings-not structures of energy but real wings, Kyrien's wings. Even as he helped to lift them into the air, he was taking the opportunity to attack the rigging of the ships below. Once he let go, he and the Slippery Eelturned on the wind and soared back low over the water, now well clear of the ships. The dark cloud that had been approaching was nearly upon them. It overflowed with energy and malicious intent, and Catrin did not want to be anywhere near it. To the east, another bank of clouds threatened. It, too, reeked of energy, but its charge, at least, was that of a natural storm. What approached from the west wanted her dead; she could feel it.

The dive back to low altitude had gained them speed, and Catrin shaped the wind to give it the most efficient flow. The air sang and, as the rigging began to vibrate, Kyrien thrust them upward and into the approaching storm. Screaming gouts of fire clogged the air, leaving behind trails of oily black smoke. One struck the deck, and immediately fire spread. With most of the crew holding on for their lives, the fire got a chance to establish itself. By the time the crew had tied a rope around Farsy's waist so he could let go and fight the fire, the flames were spreading. With Kyrien's unpredictable movements, there was not much Farsy could do to protect himself, and Catrin hoped that slim line of rope would be enough to save him from going overboard.

Another flaming projectile struck the mainsail, which was soon awash with fire. Catrin had to remind herself to breathe as Bryn climbed the rigging without a rope to secure him. Kyrien banked a sharp turn as another screaming ball of flames arched over the bow. Bryn hung by his arms alone, and he nearly swung in a complete circle as the ship banked, creaking and groaning against Kyrien's back, but when the ship righted itself, he landed deftly.

Catrin's efforts continued to lend them speed, and Pelivor kept most of the weight off Kyrien. It was only when they needed to climb or change direction that Kyrien would take more of the weight onto his back. It must be painful, Catrin thought, but she could sense Kyrien laughing.

I am stronger than you might believe.

Catrin smiled.

"I'm not so sure about this," Kenward said as they neared the leading edge of the towering storm cloud, its structures larger and more imposing than any fortress ever built. The Slippery Eelwas about to disappear into it, even as lightning continued to illuminate it from within. "I didn't agree to this!"

Still, Kyrien drove them upward and directly into the storm. Almost instantly it became clear that the air currents within the storm were more unpredictable than Kyrien's movements, and the ship along with Kyrien flew erratically, sometimes dropping through pockets of air as if they would crash to the sea. Light flashed around them, and Catrin felt the ship building up a charge. It reminded her of when she'd been struck by lightning in Pinook Harbor. Her skin crawled with energy, and a coppery taste filled her mouth. The structures Pelivor used to provide lift seemed to gather the charge as they sliced through the excited air around them, and balls of floating lightning danced along the deck and through the solid walls of the deckhouse. The curses that poured from the galley made it clear that the lightning continued to the other side of the walls.

"I should have listened to my mother," Kenward said after having to duck ball lightning and nearly being thrown overboard by turbulent air.

"Now there's a first," Catrin said, unable to resist.

"Really?" Kenward said in mock horror. "You're going to hold that over me now? While we're flying through a storm I wouldn't sail through and being chased by balls of light and fire, if we're not tossed into the open air first. I'm not certain which death I prefer, but I'm pretty sure I don't want one of those balls of light catching up to me."

"Get low and stay away from the mainmast!" Catrin said.

"Oh, I don't like the sound of that at all," Kenward said. "Why do I even let you on my ship?"

Catrin got no chance to respond as the storm chose that instant to relieve the ship of its charge. She had expected it to hit the masts, but she had not considered that they were inside the cloud instead of below it. In a surreal moment that would forever be burned into Catrin's memory, she saw a fine, silvery web of energy form, and in the space of a breath, it grew to blindingly bright light that crawled over every part of the ship and its crew. In the next moment, darkness engulfed them and rain whipped around them, but the most terrifying part was the feeling of falling. Even stunned and confused, the crew managed to hang on to the now plummeting ship. Pelivor remained where he'd been clinging to the railing, but he appeared to be having trouble hanging on. Catrin couldn't blame him; neither of them had been prepared for this, and she did not know how much more she'd be able to endure, but for the moment, she knew she needed to get control of the ship.

Standing up and supporting herself against the deckhouse, Catrin tied herself to the steerage, having flashbacks of nearly drowning as a result of the same idea, but she forced herself to do it as the prow dipped. The ship dived straight down into the clear skies below the storm clouds, and the seas rushed up at them with incredible speed. More turbulence caused the ship to twist, and Catrin drew a sharp breath when she caught sight of Kyrien below them, falling in a flat spin, as if he were already dead. Catrin cried out across the distance and tried to communicate with his spirit, but she got no response, and his body continued to spin out of control. Knowing everyone aboard would suffer Kyrien's fate if she did not do something, Catrin gathered her will. She created structures more like those Pelivor used than the ones she had created in the past, and she found them easier to maintain, except the speed of the air coming at them was so intense that it tried to tear the structures apart.

"I knew this was a bad idea!" Kenward shouted, even as the angle of their descent lessened.

The speed made the rigging sing, and Catrin wanted to look down and see what had become of Kyrien, but the ship was far from under control. Backlit by a flash of lightning, a giant shape filled the air near them. One could not confuse a regent dragon with a feral dragon, and this was definitely a feral. Its black scales glistened in the rain, and it matched their dive. Using all her might, Catrin changed the angle of her wings, scrubbed off some speed, and sent them back into as steep a climb as she could maintain.

"Hold on!" she shouted.

"Now you tell us to hold on? How can it get any worse?"

Catrin didn't bother to answer Kenward. She let the port-side wing dissolve into nothingness, just as the feral attacked, which sent the ship rolling aside. A mighty crash resounded and sent the ship careening as the dragon planted its claws on the hull and thrust itself away from the Eel.Catrin tried to reestablish the port wing, but the spinning of the ship made it difficult to do anything but hold on. After several tries, she managed to right the ship. Soon after, Pelivor joined her and did his best to secure himself in a similar fashion. With his help, the ship regained stable flight.

"Watch for the feral!" Catrin shouted.

It wasn't long until someone cried out, "Here it comes!"

The information wasn't all that helpful in the sense that Catrin had no idea from what direction the attack would come, only that it would come soon. With a sharp turn to starboard, Catrin hoped she'd guessed correctly.

A muffled roar that sounded like a snake moving over rawhide, only a thousand times louder, shook the Slippery Eel,but the ship maintained stable flight. Momentarily allowing her concentration to waver, Catrin looked around, trying to figure out what was going on in the air around them, but once again, clouds had engulfed them, and she could see almost nothing. Even sound was dampened by the wet air, and the cries that rang out seemed distant.

Grubb brought a thick soup that sat heavily in Catrin's stomach and made her eyelids feel as if they weighed as much as a pair of hams. Nimsy braced her and took more of her weight as she swayed on her feet. It was simply too much to ask of her exhausted body. She needed rest more than anything. Vaguely she thought she heard someone calling her name. Wanting to tell the person to go away and just give her a little more time to sleep, Catrin realized she was falling; everything was falling.

Trying desperately to clear the sleep from her mind, Catrin lent energy to Pelivor, who looked as if he, too, would drop at any moment.

"We need to get the ship back in the water," Catrin managed to say between gasps.

Pelivor just nodded without fully lifting his head.

Darkness crowded Catrin's vision, and she remained conscious only by the sheer force of her will. Nothing mattered in that instant except getting the Eelback in the water. If it killed her, then so be it. None of this seemed worth it anymore. How could anything be worth the pain and suffering she endured? How could anything make up for the anguish of loss or the frustration of failure? Catrin howled in spite of it and guided the ship lower.

"First we need to get clear of that!" Kenward shouted as the feral soared straight toward the prow of the ship at incredible speed. At the last instant, the dragon reached out and grabbed a crewman as it passed. The man's screams pounded against Catrin's resolve, trying to convince her that she could not win; they would not survive.

Buffeted by the wind, the ship angled toward the waves, and Catrin stood, trembling, ready to release the energy and collapse the instant they hit the waves. Farsy's support appeared to be the only thing keeping Pelivor upright, and she knew he felt the same.

"Get down!" someone shouted.

Catrin saw it then, approaching for another pass, its eyes gleaming with hatred and purpose. Like a giant snake, it undulated in the air, as if swimming through the clouds. Folding its wings, it raced toward the Slippery Eel,aiming for Kenward. Catrin could not allow it to take him from the deck-not Kenward or any other member of the crew.

"I'm sorry!" Catrin cried out, not having time to warn anyone or ask permission. Instead she did something she wished she didn't know how to do. Reaching out to all those aboard, she borrowed their energy. None could resist and had no chance to avoid her embrace. As quick as lightning, her power locked on to them all, and they were hers to do with as she pleased. With the flick of her wrist, she could drain them all. It was so beautiful, and Catrin wanted more. How could she not? It was the most glorious thing she'd ever experienced, yet she knew the consequences, and it took only an instant to regain her composure.

Pelivor stared at her with the widest eyes she'd ever seen, and Catrin loosed a single, white-hot bolt of energy that left the air crackling and smelling of charcoal. The crew, still locked in a frozen rictus, was illuminated in morbid detail as the bolt flashed over the deck. Then they were lost in a conflagration that burned into Catrin's soul. She felt the dragon reaching for her spirit even as it died, as if its energy stretched beyond its mortal shell and sought to burn Catrin alive with its last reserve. Releasing the crew as quickly as she could, Catrin threw her arms up before her. There was no time to use the energy to shield herself, and she was suddenly awash with flame and lightning. It lasted only an instant; then it was gone.

Singed and in some cases still smoking, the crew moved as if they were drunk, and Catrin hoped she hadn't taken too much from them. Aware that she could kill a person by drawing too much energy, she worried what would happen if she drew almosttoo much energy from them, and she feared permanent damage. The thought was yanked away as she was suddenly thrown forward against the ropes that bound her. Icy water surged over the bow, drenching her and everyone else on deck. Pelivor appeared dead as he floated toward the rail on the receding wave, his body limp and almost liquid in its movements.

Everyone aboard was silent, and Catrin watched in mute awe as crewman regained their feet and began checking the rigging. It was not long before shouts came from below. "We're taking on water, sir!"

Darkness once again crowded Catrin's vision, and she could no longer fight it. She felt like an empty and desiccated husk that would never be whole again. With a heavy sigh of resignation, she slumped toward the deck, only the ropes holding her upright. As the darkness claimed her, she heard Kenward shout, "Man the bilges and buckets!"

"It's too much, sir!" came the response from belowdecks. "We're sinking!"

Even complete exhaustion could not overcome the shouting of the crew and the complaints of the rigging. Her vision blurry at first, Catrin awoke barely able to make out the dark shapes that ambled past, seemingly standing at the wrong angle. It was then that she realized the ship was listing heavily to port and the water was creeping ever closer, ready to claim them in its cold embrace. Kenward's orders contained a note of panic she'd never heard from him before. Of all the trouble they'd been through, this was the worst. Kenward's voice and the efforts of the crew who were no less exhausted than she, especially after her abuse of them, motivated Catrin and drove her back to her feet.

Water streaked down her face after a wave broke over the deck. The surf was growing, and the sight of the endless crests and troughs, now white tipped and blowing in the wind, made Catrin's skin crawl. Hanging at her side, Catrin's left arm was numb and unresponsive. Her right arm trembled as she steadied herself against the rail, the angle of the deck making it difficult to stand.

"The bilge handles are submerged, Captain. We've got to get ahead of this or we're sunk!"

"More men to the bilges!" Kenward ordered in a shrill voice. "I'll bail the hold by myself if I have to. This ship will not sink!"

Catrin reached his side and used her right arm to take a full bucket from Kenward. Without a word, Kenward dipped back down for another. Pelivor appeared a moment later, holding his head and mumbling something too low for anyone to hear over the furor. As the waves grew, the work became more and more difficult, and Catrin was thrown to the deck when they crested a large wave. It was as if the deck had jumped out from underneath her only to come crashing back up with explosive force. The taste of blood filled her mouth, and when she put her weight on her left arm, it was too much. She collapsed back to the deck with a whimper.

Strong hands grabbed her by the buckles on her leather pants, pulled her upright, and left her standing there. The world moved in unexpected ways, even more than the high seas would account for, and Catrin took deep breaths while she searched for balance and calm. Death was close now. It would take only a little more time and all of them would be lost forever. Sinjin would be left without a mother, and Prios would be a widower. The thoughts made her weep, but still she helped bail, Pelivor now lending her strength. Where he had found his reserve, she did not know, but she loved him for it.

When Kenward met her eyes next, she could see the defeat in his visage. Even giving everything they had left would not be enough. The Slippery Eelhad taken too much damage, and there was no way she could be mended on rough seas and nearly full of water. Catrin wasn't even sure what was keeping them afloat. To everyone's surprise, they began to make some progress, the water dropping back below the bilge arms. Catrin suspected a regent dragon was helping them, but her suspicion was based on feelings alone. Nonetheless, this sudden improvement gave Kenward pause.

"We're not going to be able to keep this up," Farsy shouted from belowdecks. "Even if we can get the bilge emptied, I'm not sure we can plug a hole that big. Not in the water at least, and we might as well be a lifetime from dry dock."

Kenward scowled. "Do you all want to face my mother in the afterlife when I tell her you gave up?" His words got them moving a little faster. "Would you prefer to face my sister? Or maybe you'd like to answer to Prios?" The words seemed aimed at himself, rather than the crew, but the effect was the same. "There, see? We can do this!"

The water level dropped enough that one could straddle the hole in the ship and still have his head above water.

"Bring me oakum and planks! Use the shelves if you have to! Farsy! You're a lanky sprite. Use your feet to get some oakum around the front of the hole and then get a board across it. Bryn, you can hold your breath a long time. Swim down there and secure the planks. Just make the hole smaller. That's all I'm askin'. Just make it smaller."

By some unknown force, the water continued to drop lower, and Bryn was able to work with his head above the water line. Still, water surged sporadically through the remainder of the hole, the high pressure making it even more difficult to patch. Then even that flow lessened. There came a strange thump on the hull, and the timbers creaked. The deck rolled back to being almost level.

"What's happening?" someone asked.

"I don't care what's happening!" Kenward answered. "Get that hole fixed! We might live yet!"

There was a sound of relief in Kenward's voice, but Catrin knew his hope had the potential to be false. The damage to the Eel's hull was extensive. By her guess, the result of giant claws and the collision with a rough, scaled hide. Looking over the side of the ship, she could see nothing in the failing light.

A towering wave brought them high above the trough, and as they were about to race down the trailing edge, the timbers creaked again, only this time much louder. Shouts came from belowdecks as the ship took to the air. Catrin turned to Pelivor, who looked as shocked as she. Both knew there was no time to waste if they were going to capitalize on their good fortune. With practiced precision, Pelivor built his structures of energy, and the ship remained in the air, just barely clearing the whitecaps.

"You've done it!" Kenward shouted. "You've given us a fighting chance. Keep us in the air for another couple hours, and we might just be seaworthy again."

A couple hours-it might as well have been an eternity. Catrin knew they had no more than a few minutes. The world shifted between full color and a dull gray haze. Faraway voices called to her, and strong hands held her steady. In her dreams they flew across the desert, nightmarish creatures attacking from every side, and nowhere was safe. Dust curled up behind them as they flew, and Catrin could feel that this dream was different. This was a dream, yet it was real, and all of her senses were engaged. The battlefield was a maelstrom of aggression and pent-up rage, and all she could do was fly.