Mystic: A Book of Underrealm (12 page)

“Then offer a better idea,” said Brimlad, and again he spat off the side. “For if we fail to do as she says, they
will
catch and kill us all. Then they will have the girl regardless. Her way, at least we get to live.”

“He is right, Loren,” Annis said. “It was always a fool’s hope that I could escape. You should all go. You can still make it to Calentin or anywhere else you choose.”

Loren cut her off with a sharp wave. “We will make good our escape, and with you besides. Xain, a moment.”

The wizard gave Loren a curious look, but he followed her to the bow. She huddled close and kept her voice low.

“The magestones. Do you know where we can sell them?”

He arched an eyebrow. “I know a place. It is far to the north, in Dorsea to the west of the Greatrocks Mountains. A city known as Bertram, where a friend could assist me.”

“And for how much? I can only imagine their value.”
 

Xain shook his head. “Beyond your reckoning, but I cannot see how this will help. The Dragon’s Tail does not lead to Bertram, nor could we hope to reach it before we were caught, and even then gold would do us no good against—”

Hunger stoked her temper. She interrupted with a frustrated growl. “I am not a fool, wizard! I am trying to strike you a deal. With the value of half the magestones, could Annis and Gem buy passage to Calentin and make lives for themselves there?”

Xain looked irritated, but shrugging he said, “Of course. They could live like royalty, for a long while at least.”

“And would half the magestones be enough for you to reclaim your son from the High King’s Seat?”

Xain’s eyes flashed, and his face grew grim. For a moment, Loren grew frightened. “With half of those stones, I could conquer a kingdom,” he said, and his voice was terrible.

Loren felt a qualm at that, but she made herself press on. “Then we will keep our course for Wellmont. Mayhap Brimlad overguesses our pursuers, and we will reach the city without incident. If they catch us, we will give you one of the crystals. With its power, do you think you could stave off the ship that pursues us?”

Excitement sparked in his eyes, and he gave a quick nod. “I could rend it into kindling and sink the splinters to the river’s bed. But,” again he grew solemn, “I would rather not. Not unless we were at the utmost end of need.”

“Then do not destroy the ship,” said Loren impatiently. “Only damage it enough that they cannot hope to make good their chase.”

“I mean that I would rather not use the magestones, unless I must. As for why . . . it is a matter for wizards.”

“Tell me. For without this plan, we are lost. If it works, and we reach Wellmont in safety, we can finish the deal. We will procure passage to Bertram and give you half of the magestones. We will sell the other half to your friend. Annis and Gem can travel to Calentin with the coin. But if this will not work, you must tell me now.”

Again, she saw hunger in the wizard’s eyes. “Half? You would do this for me?”

“Not for you,” said Loren, sniffing and raising her chin. “For both of us. A mutually beneficial transaction. Two people, walking outside the King’s law together, doing what is best for them both.”

Xain grunted. “Call it what you will. Still, to use the stones now . . .” He turned from Loren and looked back towards the horizon’s swiftly moving cloud.
 

“What? You look like a man who spies a coming danger.”

Xain opened his mouth, and then after a moment he closed it again. Something changed in his face. It became a mask, firm and stony, as though some arrangement had been made behind his eyes.

“It will be as you say. We will keep the girl with us, and I will try to best the ship without use of the stones. I have told you that few wizards can match my power.”

“Yet you are half-starved and weakened because of it. You must promise to use the stones if you must, or else we are all lost.”

“Yes. At utmost need. And one more thing, girl. You must not tell Brimlad of this. Even in the heat of battle with their wizard. I must take the magestone in secret so that the captain never sees.”

She did not like his tone—the sudden resolution that filled him. As if he had held something back, some secret he feared for Loren to learn. But she saw little choice other than to trust. In the back of her mind a voice whispered,
He left you upon the King’s road.
Loren did not listen.

“Your word,” she said and offered her hand.

“My word.” The wizard took Loren’s hand in a firm grip, though hers was firmer still.

fifteen

WITH THEIR PLAN SET, THEY had only to sail on and wait for their pursuers to catch them. The day passed in uneasy silence, and though they all pretended not to, each of them looked often back at the white canvas slowly leaving the horizon behind. Loren threw her line over the ship’s stern and was pleasantly surprised to hook a fish almost immediately. Gem and Annis cheered as Loren pulled it aboard, but she snatched it away with a glare.

“Upon Xain’s shoulders rests our salvation. Half of this is for him.”

They both grumbled, but Loren ignored it. The boat had a small brazier fixed near its mast, and after gutting the fish Loren fried it. Xain devoured the white flesh in seconds—impatience scorching his fingers. The rest of them took more time, savoring their few bites each. Loren threw the line again, hoping for another success, but the day passed without a nibble.

Night came, and Brimlad retired belowdecks after telling Xain to rouse him at any sign of trouble. Loren tried staying awake to help the wizard watch. But hunger and weariness claimed her before the second moon had peeked above the northern horizon.

She roused herself just before dawn to find Xain swaying at the tiller. She went to his side and looked off the boat’s stern; the white sail had grown closer still. She could see the vague black shape of a ship skimming the water.

“They are closer than I thought they would be.”

“Closer than Brimlad guessed, as well.” The wizard’s words slurred with fatigue.

“You should rest. Our fates are with you today.”

“Brimlad has been asleep a few scant hours,” said Xain.

“Brimlad will be as useful as a barnacle if as he guesses the ship holds a wizard. I will rouse him.”

Loren left despite Xain’s halfhearted protest. The captain came awake the moment she stepped belowdecks, and he went swiftly to replace Xain. The wizard stumbled down the boat’s few steps and flung himself on a pile of blankets he had built into a sort of bed in the corner.

Another day wore on, and now they could see the ship growing closer by the hour. Half a dozen times, Loren thought she had better go below to rouse Xain but each time stopped herself. He would need every ounce of his strength.

Then, as the sun hung above them at full noon, Loren saw something that iced her blood.
 

They had surrendered any pretense of ignoring the ship behind them, and most of the time kept their eyes fixed to its sails. The vessel was impossible to ignore—over twenty feet high it reared without the mast, and the tip of its sail stretched higher than the towers dotting the Cabrus walls. From its prow sprouted a figurehead of a beautiful maiden whose legs turned into a fin—one arm stretched forwards as she sped above the waters.

Staring at the figurehead, Loren saw a slim, slight woman upon the forecastle. Her hands were on the rail, and she leaned out as though trying to capture the spray in her billowing hair. Around her shoulders, a cloak of deepest red, its hood thrown back.

“Is that . . .” muttered Gem.

“Vivien,” breathed Loren. “The Mystic. She sails with Yerrin.”

Vivien was not merely watching their boat. Her eyes glowed with a pale white light, a glimmer that Loren could see even from so far.

“A wizard,” said Annis. “The Mystic is a wizard. She is the one who let them sail so fast, who brought them down upon us.”

Loren ran belowdecks, seizing Xain’s shoulder and shaking the wizard awake. “They are almost here! And the Mystic is with them. Xain—she is a wizard.”

Xain blinked furiously as he woke, trying to understand her words. “What? Who, the woman upon the dock?”

“Come and see for yourself.”

Xain followed her and studied the ship for a spell. Finally, he muttered, “Worse and worse. I feel no stirring in the air. She is a mentalist.”

“A mindmage?” Annis shuddered. “What can we do?”

“I can stop her,” said Xain, “though I would rather she were an elementalist. Mentalism and Elementalism are two sides of a coin, the same as Transmutation and Therianthropy. But I will have to watch for what she is doing rather than feeling it with my own gift. It makes things . . . less predictable.”

“Then do not give her the chance to attack,” said Gem. “Strike first, so that she must defend against you instead.”

“I cannot know how strong the woman is,” said Xain, “but she is at least strong enough to speed the progress of a large vessel, and I am weakened. I cannot hope to maintain a constant assault against her, only to stave off her attacks as long as I can. Brimlad, how long before we reach the rivergates of Wellmont?”

“Two days at least. Mayhap three.”

Loren seized Xain’s arm, but she remembered what he had said about the captain. “Xain, you cannot hope to fight her for that long.” She put extra effort into each syllable, hoping the wizard would catch her meaning.
 

He must use the magestones, or we will be caught.

Their eyes met, and Loren saw his understanding. But he reached up to remove her fingers, and not gently. “I will fight her as long as needed, and will ask for help if I must.”

Loren wanted to say more but saw Brimlad’s suspicious eyes upon them. So she held her tongue as Xain went to the rear railing, ignoring them all in favor of the Yerrin ship.

With nothing else to do, Loren sent Gem and Annis belowdecks. Both complained mightily, but Loren accepted no argument.
 

“You will do us no good up here. I know not if they have archers upon that vessel, nor if they would risk Annis’s safety with arrows. But I, at least, will not risk it.”

“You are no good up here either,” said Annis. “Why not come down with us?”

“I
am in charge. Or that, at least, is the way you seem to treat me. Do not ask me over and over what to do and then refuse what I say.”
 

Annis scowled, but Gem bowed. He had pledged himself to her in Cabrus, when leaving Auntie’s employ. Loren worried often about keeping him safe, but at least she knew herself for a better caretaker than the weremage.

With the two of them safely stowed below, Loren took her place at the ship’s rear with Xain and Brimlad. The captain struggled to keep his eyes fixed to the front, steering the boat down the river’s center. But ever his eyes returned to the ship and to Vivien on its bow—close enough now for Loren to see her white-knuckled grip on the railing.

“Does she really move the whole ship with her mind?” It seemed to Loren a mighty feat, and for a moment she feared the Mystic might be a more powerful wizard than Xain after all.

But Xain only scoffed. “She is clumsy and foolish if so. One need only push a ship’s sail in order to move the body. That is no simple task but certainly easier than trying to grip the vessel in one’s mind hard enough to propel it through the water. As I pushed this boat with the wind, a mentalist can do the same with her mind.”

“Still, it is a great ship,” said Loren. “She must be very powerful.”

Calmly, Xain said, “I do not think she is as powerful as we might fear. If she were, they should have caught us many days ago.”

Loren hoped the wizard was right.

She thought there would be some signal, some clear sign of when the battle would begin. But in the end, there was nothing. One moment, Vivien’s eyes glowed, her hands still gripping the railing. The next, Brimlad’s boat shuddered, and Loren nearly fell to the ground. Above them, the boat’s meager sail strained against its lashings, and she heard the lines creaking in protest.

“What was that?” said Brimlad.

“She has gripped us.” Xain spoke through gritted teeth. “A moment, and I will . . .”

The boat shook again, but this time it lurched forwards through the water rather than coming to a halt. Loren fell to the deck, and Brimlad stuck out a boot to keep her from sliding towards the back.

“I broke her hold, but she will try again.” Loren could hear the effort in Xain’s voice, reaching for pain. “Hold onto something, and I will try to slow them.”

The glow in his eyes intensified, and he pushed his hands forwards with a smooth, flowing motion. The boat bucked and kicked underfoot, and Loren leapt desperately for the nearest railing. Just as she wrapped her arms around it, a great swell of water soaked her through. Loren’s fine black cloak clung to her body.

She gasped and sputtered for air, seeing a passing wave swelling down the river towards the Yerrin ship behind them. Vivien scrambled to keep her feet as it struck, her hands gripping the rail ever tighter. But the ship was too large, and after tilting back and forth with a violent swaying, the ship settled back into the current, now looking nearer than ever.

“They draw closer!” said Loren. “They will ram us!”

“I see it.” The captain spoke through gritted teeth, jerking the tiller to the left. Their boat drifted closer to the river’s northern shore. But they moved slowly, for little wind filled their sails, and Loren knew Xain could not spare a moment’s effort to summon more.

Hand over hand, she forced her way up the railing towards the ship’s front. If she could only get the pole Gem had used during their escape from Redbrook, perhaps she could prevent the ship from striking them. It might be a foolish plan, but Loren could do nothing else.

The wind snapped and tugged at her hood and cloak. She looked back towards Xain. Now it seemed the wizard was pushing back at the craft with air. Loren wondered if he could possibly summon enough to stop it in his weakened state until she saw that he failed to target the vessel. Instead, a blast of concentrated air slammed into Vivien at the bow. The Mystic fell on her back and slid across the deck, vanishing from sight. A moment later, the gale subsided, and Vivien clawed her way back to the rail.