The Dawning of Power

Chapter 10

Life is fragile and can be quelled in uncountable ways. -Brachias Pall, assassin

Momentarily weightless, Catrin hung, suspended in air, until her feet touched the deck once again. The Slippery Eel slammed into the trailing edge of the wave and raced back toward the relatively calm waters behind it. More waves came but none as big as the first.

"Men overboard!" Catrin shouted. Not far away, she spotted someone in the water. Determined to help, she tied an oar from one of the boats to the end of a rope and cast it toward him. For several tense moments, Catrin watched Farsy try to reach the oar, fighting the waves. Kenward slowed the ship, and Farsy grasped Catrin's line.

Chase came to her aid, and they pulled him in, wrapping him in blankets once he was on deck. The crew searched the water for the other man, but he was lost. After a headcount, they found it was Nimsy, a man who'd always been kind to Catrin, and she wept in mourning, tears streaking her soot-stained face as she continued to shovel ash from the deck.

"Have mercy! The finger of the gods!" someone shouted, and Catrin looked to the rigging, following the stares. There she saw a terrifying sight. Orange and red flames licked the rigging without consuming or even scorching it. Fingers of liquid light crawled over the mast and crow's nest, reaching toward the sky. Sheets of translucent flame enveloped the sails and danced over them, seemingly without touching them, as if it were only the specter of fire. It was almost like what she had seen in the Pinook harbor but visible to all.

The energy of the ash storm intensified, reaching out to them, and Catrin feared they would be struck by ghastly red lightning. When the crew began praying and casting offerings into the sea, she joined them by offering a lock of her hair. Perhaps if she gave something of herself, she thought, the gods would show mercy.

Shouts on the other side of the deck got her attention, and a crowd gathered there as Nimsy was miraculously pulled from the water. Could the gods have heard their prayers? Unsure what to believe, Catrin cut a much larger lock of her hair and cast it into the waves, knowing it could do no harm.

Turning slowly, the Slippery Eel came about and made for the waters where the Stealthy Shark had last been seen. The ash cloud blotted out the sky from above, and more ash rolled steadily across the water toward them.

"Take cover in the deckhouse!" Kenward ordered, and the crew rushed to comply, seeing what looked like the breath of a demon bearing down on them. "Hold your breath and cover yourselves," he shouted just before the remains of the pyroclastic cloud washed over the Slippery Eel, engulfing her in a rolling maelstrom of ash and fire. When it passed, shouts and coughing were all that could be heard. Covered in ash and burns, the crew put out the fires and gave every effort, but the ash accumulated faster than they could remove it, slowly pulling them under.

Like a blessing from the gods, a strong wind descended from the north and drove the ash before it, dispersing it. While it made the problem worse for a while, eventually the air began to clear and the sun was visible behind a foul and gauzy haze. Ash still fell, but the intensity was greatly dissipated as the wind diffused the ash and spread it over a larger area. Fire still belched from what remained of the mountain, but even that began to subside.

Tears filled Catrin's eyes as the first of the debris appeared. Seeing only small bits at the start, she prayed the Stealthy Shark had survived, but then large chunks began to appear, scattered across the waves. Kenward watched with his jaw clenched, and Catrin could almost see his heart breaking. She held her breath, waiting for something to wake her from this nightmare.

"Survivors to port!" the lookout shouted, and Catrin ran to see who it was. On a floating section of sail and rigging were Strom, Osbourne, Nora, and three of Fasha's crewman. Elated, Catrin help lower the boarding net while men cast out lines for them to grab on to.

Osbourne reached the deck first and asked for help preparing a litter. "Nora's hurt bad," he said. "We're gonna need help getting her aboard."

Kenward and his crew moved with determination that bordered on panic. Soon, though, the crewman secured Nora to the litter and she was raised to the deck. Barely conscious, she apprised Kenward on her condition and how her wounds were to be treated. Even as they set broken bones and closed gaping wounds, she continued to give orders through clenched teeth.

"Find Fasha," she said before her eyes closed. Kenward stood over her, willing her chest to rise and fall.

"Do what you can to find the rest," Catrin said. "I'll come for you if her condition changes."

"Bless you," he said as he turned back to his crew. "Get boats in the water! I want everyone found. Now!" As soon as the boats were in the water, he moved the Eel away, looking for anyone in the distance.

Nora was taken to Kenward's cabin and made as comfortable as possible. She drifted in and out of consciousness, mumbling incoherently. Catrin sat at her side, trying to remember what she had learned from past attempts at healing. Perhaps she was fooling herself, she thought, but her efforts seemed to calm Nora and sent her into a peaceful sleep. After a time, Catrin felt she had done what she could do, and she went in search of Kenward to apprise him of her condition. He stood at the wheel, his eyes filled with tears. They had found more debris but no more survivors. As daylight began to fade, he turned the Eel back to retrieve the boats.

Cheers carried across the water as three more of Fasha's crew were pulled into the boats. Catrin and Kenward stood side by side, trying to deny the harsh reality. Benjin, Fasha, and most of her crew were lost. The Stealthy Shark was no more.

"I'm so sorry," Kenward said as his shoulders began to shake. His poignant anguish washed over Catrin, mixed with her own, and drove a wedge into her soul. Impotent rage gnawed at her very being, and she felt as if she would erupt, just as the mountain had.

Kenward continued the search for three days, but it was Nora who demanded they move on. "If they were going to be found, it would've happened by now. We must accept it, Son. They're gone."

Nat waited on a mossy rock near the spring where Neenya swam. This place was special to her, and she brought him here only when she was feeling especially happy. Her smile drew him closer, and he marveled at the way the light danced in her eyes.

It had been a long time since he last visited the mountaintop; he always seemed to be busy with one task or another. Life was pleasant here, and he could easily forget his worries. Trips to the mountain brought only pain and grief. Most of the time, he didn't even understand his visions. What good came from them? Secretly, he'd been working on mental exercises that he hoped would suppress the visions. It shamed him, but a peaceful life with Neenya seemed worth it.

As he bent down to kiss her, though, he felt a warm sensation on his lips, and he wiped them with the back of his hand, which came away covered in blood. Neenya's scream faded as the world shifted.

Atop an unbelievably tall wave ran a white panther; on its back rode Catrin, her colorless hair pulled back by the wind. The staff she held came alive, its eyes gleaming as it spread its wings and flew. The white cat reared, but the water pulled at his legs, and he tumbled into the leading edge of the crashing wave. In an instant Catrin and her cat were gone.

Still the water came, and Nat, standing on the highest mount, watched the seas rise until the water lapped at his feet.

"Neenya," Nat said when the vision released him. "We must hurry."

Pulling hard on the too light load, Mark Vedregon cursed the monsters that continually ruined his nets. They had caught enough fish to feed his men for a week, but as had happened so many times before, something cut the nets before they reached the surface. More of the reptile beasts, he suspected-Gholgi, Belegra had called them. Powerful and crafty, they were proving to be capable foes. Hindering their fishing efforts was only one of the ways the beasts harried Mark Vedregon and his men, slowly wearing them down.

"Nets were cut again, sir. Shall we repair 'em?"

"Not now. We can do that when we get back to shore. Drop the trawl tubs. Maybe we'll get lucky and hook some of those boiling beasts in the process."

"Aye, sir."

"Even if we could catch enough to feed us," Second Richt said, "Archmaster Belegra will take it to feed his pet." His moody gaze scanned the seas, but then he stopped. Pointing out to sea, he stood mute and trembling, unable to make himself speak. Mark Vedregon gave frantic orders, and the crew moved with haste, despite knowing it was already too late. The sea would claim them.

Miss Mariss walked the avenues, passing faces both familiar and strange. So many things had changed, and yet many were still the same. When she reached the docks, Amnar greeted her with his usual toothless grin.

"Hallo, missus," he said. "I set a nice mackerel aside fer ya and a few toadfish. The currents run strange these days; I'd have more for ya if I could."

"I appreciate what you have, Amnar. We make do with what we can get these days," she said, moving on to where Lendra and her new mate, Bavil, waited.

"The pots were heavy today, Miss Mariss. We've blue crab, shedders, and wall-climbers for you."

"Thank you," she said, dropping a silver into Lendra's palm. Looking beyond the docks, Miss Mariss wondered how Strom, Catrin, and the others fared, but a curious sight drew her attention. Children playing on the beach ran out to grab stranded fish and crabs as the bay began to rapidly recede. Faster that the swiftest tide, the water rushed away from land, as if there were a great hole in the seafloor.

For a time she was mesmerized by the sight, as were others, but then the realization set in and her mind could conceive only one explanation. "Get away from the water! Make for high ground," she shouted. "The seas are coming! The seas are coming!"

At the helm of the Slippery Eel, Kenward gripped the wheel as if it were his only link to sanity. Sadness, more powerful than anything he'd ever imagined, threatened to cripple his mind and body. Tears sprang to his eyes without warning, as feelings of loss manifested as physical pain. He felt as if his heart were truly broken.

Using a short staff as a cane, Nora limped to his side, but he said nothing; he just continued to stare out at the endless horizon.

"I miss her too," she said.

Those words were more than Kenward could bear, and he began to cry. "I'm so sorry," he said, and he gave the wheel over to Bryn. Unable to even lift his eyes to meet hers, he walked to his mother and wrapped her in a tight hug as he wept.

"It wasn't your doing, Son. You are not to blame."

"I was supposed to save her," he said, feeling as if his chest might explode. "Why couldn't I save her?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry, Son. I miss her too," Nora said. Together they cried. In a rare display, they stood, holding each other. Crewmen came, one by one, each with a kind word or a pat on the shoulder. Silently and together, the ship mourned.

To Kenward, the loss seemed surreal, and he kept expecting to wake up, for all this to have been but a dream. Nothing seemed as it should. Colors were dull, and sounds that might once have been beautiful were now harsh and somehow disrespectful. The world without Fasha seemed a poorer place. She had been a second half of him, always there to counter him, a constant challenge to his wits. His mother had intended to hand the Trader's Wind down to Fasha; he was certain of it. That thought led him to another crushing realization: His pain was but a small fraction of what his mother must be experiencing. "I know I can never take Fasha's place," he said, "but I'll try harder."

"Nonsense," Nora said. "You're doing just fine. Fasha is my daughter, and nothing could ever replace her, but I would be just as lost without you."

Kenward raised his eyes, surprised by what he heard.

Nora laughed. "A fool boy you may be, but you're my fool boy."

By the dim light of her lamp, Nora lay in her hammock, caressing the walls of Kenward's ship with her fingertips, her mind elsewhere. She was proud of Kenward for allowing himself to grieve, and she was proud of herself. She'd been taught to conceal her feelings from the crew, to always present a confident front. While the tactic had worked well during her career, Kenward had taught her something. His crew exuded something that surpassed loyalty. They followed him not because he commanded them, but because they cared about him; some might say they loved him.

It explained the one thing that Fasha had always questioned: How did he get his crew to obey his reckless orders? Nora could see Fasha as she had been in those moments, her arms crossed over her chest and fire in her eyes. From her pocket, she pulled a gold locket that filled her palm. Inside were things that would be valuable to only a mother: the dried, crumbling remains of a sea daisy and a tiny coral fan. Kenward had given her the sea daisy when he was five summers, and the coral had come from a small, unnamed island they had found when avoiding a massive storm. After the storm had passed, Fasha, who was ten at the time, spent an afternoon swimming around the colorful reefs. When she came back to the ship, she was so excited to show Nora what she'd found. Fasha's smile and laughter were forever ingrained in her memory.

Flipping the locket closed, Nora sighed. Somehow, she would keep Kenward safe.

When the Keys of Terhilian finally came into view, they looked little like what Catrin recalled. What had been white beaches lined by thick forest were now fields of mud and debris as far as could be seen. She sighed in relief when they came to the Terhilian Lovers, which had withstood the fury of the sea.

Kenward set a course, following the megalithic statue's pointing finger. "Let's get there and be done with this," he said. "I've no more taste for adventure. I'll happily take a quiet life of trading."

"It took you long enough to figure that out, fool boy," Nora said, leaning on her short staff. Her bones were still knitting, but she insisted on watching over the crew. Catrin agreed with Kenward, wanting nothing more to do with adventure. What she would have once thought of as glorious and exciting now tasted of death and despair. Too many had died, and Catrin could find no justification, no end worth those means.

The possibility of any of them surviving this journey grew smaller with every day, and Catrin knew she would probably never leave the Firstland, assuming they found it. If she did, though, she promised herself she would go home. Dead or alive, that was where her father was, and she was determined to find her way back to him.

From the beginning, her journey had been costly, but the loss of Benjin was more than she could bear. Only the love she had for those still around her kept her from throwing herself into the sea. Chase stood by her side and put his arm around her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"You can't keep it all inside, Cat; it'll eat its way out eventually."

"Then let it," she said, feeling foolish. "Talking won't bring them back, and I doubt it'll make me feel any better. Why bother?"

"I miss him too," Chase said, and his simple admission uncorked the wellspring of emotion she could no longer keep inside.

Her jaw quivered and her shoulders shook, but she did not want to cry. To cry was to be a victim, to lament her losses and accept them, but she didn't want to accept them; that was simply too painful. She wanted someone to blame, someone to punish.

"I need exercise," she said. "Will you spar with me?"

"Will you talk to me afterward and tell me how you are really feeling?" Chase asked.

"If I must."

"You must," he said, getting practice swords from storage. He tossed one to Catrin but was unprepared for her sudden attack.

"So that's how you want it?" he asked, lying on his back and rubbing the lump that was growing on the back of his head. Rolling backward, he got back to his feet and readied himself for her next attack.

Pent-up rage drove Catrin. In front of her, she saw not Chase, but the source of all her problems, and she attacked without thought or mercy. Moving by sheer instinct, she fought as she had never fought before, and Chase fell before her attacks.

"That's enough for me," he said, limping and rubbing his bruises. "Find someone else to beat up." He walked away, looking hurt.

Catrin was not yet done venting her anger, but no one else would spar with her, having seen how poorly Chase had fared against her raging attacks.

Unwilling to keep her anger inside any longer, she searched the dry hold and found a sack of dried reeds. After hanging it from the rigging, she attacked, her practice sword slicing the air, pounding the sack mercilessly. Even after reducing the sack to shreds, though, she did not feel any better.

Her heart pounding, she climbed atop the bowsprit. "Why do you hate me so much?" she screamed at the sky, challenging the gods themselves. "What have I done to deserve such evil and malice?"

Crew members stopped what they were doing, and Bryn readied a harness in case she fell from her dangerous perch, but Catrin barely noticed them. "Come, Istra. Come, Vestra. Right here… right now. Let us end this. If you wish me to suffer, then come down here and fight me yourselves. Cowards! I don't fear you, and I spit on your names. I cast your own hate back at you. What do you say to that?"

As if to answer her, lightning split the air and thunder rolled across the water. Gusting winds threatened to knock her from the bowsprit, but she remained there, challenging the gods to a duel. Only when Chase grabbed her ankles did she see the world around her again. Dark clouds moved in swiftly from the west, and stinging rain began to fall.

"Cowards!" she shouted one last time, shaking her fist in the air, before she let Chase guide her back to the deck.

"Cripes, Cat. You're scaring the crew. Calm down."

Shaking, Catrin took deep breaths and tried to do as he said. When the rage passed, though, exhaustion took its place, and she let Chase carry her to her cabin.

"It'll all work out somehow, Cat. Even if we have to take on the gods themselves, somehow we'll make it right. I promise," he said as he pulled a blanket over her, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.

"Not too much now," Milo said as he leaned in over Gustad's shoulder.

"I know. I know," Gustad said as he mixed water with the materials listed in the ancient text. Since Milo had found a recipe for what had been called fire powder, he had focused on nothing else. Gustad had tried to talk him out of experimenting with the formula a dozen times, fearing it was too dangerous, but Milo would not be dissuaded. His hands more steady than Milo's, Gustad gently rolled the mixture and kneaded it until it was uniform.

"That looks about right to me," Milo said. "Let's take it outside and test it."

"Just a moment," Gustad said. "Let me clean up all this mess." Despite his efforts, a mixture of different ingredients covered the worktable, and a fine dust hung in the air. "Could you get me some water?"

"You and your cleanliness," Milo said. "We can clean up when we get back from testing this. Now let's go." Reaching his hand out to the metal bowl that held the snakelike pieces of fire powder clay, a tiny blue arc of static leaped between his finger and the bowl. It was enough to ignite the dust in the air and produced a mighty thump. The initial explosion threw Milo and Gustad back, which was a blessing since the ignited dust engulfed the fire powder snakes. Two larger explosions followed, creating a mighty cloud of noxious smoke.

From beneath the remains of a crumbled worktable, Gustad crawled. His hair smoking and his face blackened, he glared at Milo.

"I told you it would work," Milo said, grinning, and Gustad just shook his head.

"Birds ahead, sir," Bryn called from the crow's nest.

"Land can't be too far," Kenward said. "Double the watch. Keep your eyes open for outcroppings and reefs. I want no surprises."

Catrin, her gaze focused on the waves, looking for any sign of obstacles, was terrified to see a huge, dark shape dart beneath the ship and emerge on the other side, its movements graceful and serpentine. More came, seemingly drawn by curiosity if not hunger. None broke the surface, leaving Catrin and the crew to guess at their true nature.

"Never seen the likes of that," Kenward said. "They haven't attacked yet, but remain watchful nonetheless. Bring out the spears from the hold; we may need to fend them off yet." His words inspired fear in the crew as they watched the dark shapes moving beneath them, taunting them, staying just deep enough to remain ambiguous.

"Rocks to port," Bryn called, and Kenward guided the ship clear of the danger. "Land, sir! I see land!"

Excitement ran through the crew as a large landmass came into view, but for Catrin it was a moment of dread. Here she was, the Firstland, a place of legend and the place where some said the first men and women were born. It was a place abandoned-surrendered-by her ancestors. As it stretched across the horizon, Catrin was overwhelmed by anxiety, suddenly convinced she would die on the Firstland. In the past she had believed, deep down, that she would survive, that someday she and her loved ones would all get home safely, but Benjin was gone. Too many others were already dead. What reason did she have to believe she wouldn't be next? She found no reassurance, and her guts churned.

The shores had been devastated far worse than the Keys of Terhilian. High into the mountainous terrain, the twisted mass of mud and severed life dominated the landscape. Birds clouded the skies over the mass of rotted vegetation. Though most of the carcasses had been picked clean, leaving only bleached bones as evidence of their existence, land-based scavengers searched for an easy meal. Even from afar, the smell was overpowering, and Kenward ordered more sail.

"We'll need to find a part of the coast that was not affected by the wave. The waters here are far too clogged with debris to be safe, and no one wants to travel through that mess," he said. For nearly half a day, they saw nothing but destruction, but then they reached an area dominated by towering rock formations that jutted from the sea and sheltered a large bay.

"Look!" Chase called, pointing. Two peaks, close together, cradled what remained of a Zjhon warship. Seeing the ship high above them was disconcerting, and Catrin was filled with a mixture of hope and dread. Surely no one had survived, she thought. Maybe Archmaster Belegra was already dead, and they could just go home. No matter how much she wanted to believe it, she knew it wasn't true. Her death awaited. Like a looming premonition, the feeling had grown stronger every day that Benjin was gone. Even bright skies could not chase away the cloud of darkness that followed her, surrounding her. Despite the nagging despair, she drew a deep breath and turned to face the wind, determined to do the best she could.

Beyond a gap in the wall, pristine, unmolested shoreline was visible. Black beaches skirted heavily forested and mountainous terrain. Along the shores, creatures both varied and bizarre covered the landscape. Huge animals that looked like bloated seals crowded together on jutting rock formations. Others like wild boars, only with skin like marbled leather and the size of horses, roamed in packs. Saltwater crocodiles as long as the Slippery Eel rested in shallow waters, often with only their eyes above water.

In a horrifying display, a whale, black as night, thrust itself from the water and onto a rocky outcropping, grabbing one of the bloated seals and tossing it into the air. Others of its ilk moved in and assisted with the kill, giving Catrin her first glimpse of predators working as a team. Her father and Benjin had told her about wolves hunting in packs, but it was shocking to witness such calculated and communal brutality, something she had thought only humans were capable of.

Painfully aware of her own carnal nature, inherent and blood given, she wondered if it could be overcome or if, deep down, they were all just predators waiting for their next kill. Thinking of Barabas and Mother Gwendolin along with other kind-hearted folks she had met on her journey, she knew it could suppressed, and she gained even more respect for those who did it so well, seemingly without effort.

Across the bay, jagged peaks rose on either side of a wide river valley, and even from the distance the sights there were awe inspiring.

"The Valley of Victors," Brother Vaughn said in little more than a whisper. "I had always thought the old tales exaggerated, but here it is before me. The old tales failed to express its true majesty. I am humbled."

"Looks like a good way to get inland," Kenward said.

"That should be the Perintong River," Brother Vaughn said. "Beyond the Valley of Victors and the Eternal Guardians should be the ancient city of Ri. That's where Belegra would go. I'm nearly certain of it."

Catrin nodded, filled with dread. "Take me as far upriver as you can, please," she said, and Kenward gave the orders.

Trembling, Catrin gripped her staff, trying to master her fears. Even the landscape challenged her courage. Steep walls lined the river valley, and every inch was covered with some kind of carving, but it was the carvings of armed men, monstrous and proud, that demanded Catrin's attention. Even worn by the ravages of time, enough detail remained to convey the ferocity of these men, for men they all were. Not a single female image was to be found, which Catrin found even more disturbing.

Winds, funneled by the massive valley, drove the Slippery Eel upriver, against the sluggish current. Around a bend came the most imposing sight yet. Crouched down, one on either side of the river, waited a pair of megalithic stone warriors, each with one arm in the water and the other held in the air, gripping swords that crossed overhead.

The features of one were nearly indistinguishable, but the other delivered an imposing glare. Half his face was missing, yet he seemed to stare into Catrin's soul and find her wanting.

"The Eternal Guardians," Brother Vaughn said, and Catrin knew their image would haunt her dreams.