Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two (85 page)

The bubble wavered, nearly collapsing
altogether before the priest managed to get it back in
place.

One of Scar’s darts pinged off the
back of it when he had sensed an opportunity. Cursing his ill-luck,
he readied a second dart.

“What is that?”

James heard Father Vickor’s question
but at first dismissed it. But then Shorty’s, “By the gods!” drew
him back to himself. Everyone was looking out to sea beyond the
ship’s stern.

An arc of roiling water stretching
across a great swath of the surface steadily made its way toward
them. Still a mile or so out, the cause of the roiling was
difficult to determine. Drawing closer, it soon became clear that
an untold number of fish were thrashing on the surface.

One large specimen with a spear-like
nose leapt from the water, twisted completely around in mid-air,
then fell back to the water.

A distortion in the sky above the
roiling drew his attention. The shimmering was almost upon
them.

“Damn!” he cried and latched his
senses upon the nearest speck and tried to deactivate it. Already,
fissures had opened and the nature of the spell was
changing.

“James, the shimmering…” began
Jiron.

“I know,” he said, cutting him
off.

“The fish,” Potbelly said, “the
leading edge of the fish disturbance is directly under the
beginning of the shimmering.”

Zzzzzt!

An arc of lightning lanced into the
approaching shimmering field from the northwest.

James’ jaw dropped when he saw the
second shimmering field.

“Look there!” shouted Father Vickor.
Yet a third was coming in from the east.

“Three?” James asked, incredulously.
“But…how? Why?”

Zzzzzt!

This time lightning shot from the
southern shimmering field to the one to the east.

Zzzzzt! Zzzzzt!

As the fields drew closer together,
the frequency of lightning strikes increased. Winds picked up and
the sea grew choppy. By now the thrashing of the fish was clearly
audible and ominously close. Another large fish leapt greater than
the height of a man, spun in air three times before hitting the
surface in a plume of water.

A sudden burst of crackling and
popping drew his attention to the nearest speck. Sparks flew from
it and an arc of magic flared outward, striking Father Vickor.
Stumbling backward, the priest cried out as he fell to the deck.
Starting from just below his left eye and traveling down to his
larynx, ran a jagged, foot long welt. Calling out to Morcyth, he
was quickly enveloped in the god’s whitish glow and the wound began
to diminish.

Jiron was at the priest’s side and
helped him stand.

“Get back, all of you!” James
hollered.

Red ants marched along his skin, so
bad had the prickling become. In the sky above, the three
shimmering fields were quickly moving to merge together. He turned
his senses to the specks. They, and the magic they were utilizing,
were drawing the fields to them.

Spells were being corrupted at an
alarming rate. All had mass fissures with new spell matrix’s being
formed. Concentrating on the one that attacked Father Vickor, James
sought the core spell.

“James!”

Ignoring Jiron’s cry, he threw himself
into the closing of the spell. Never had concentration come so
hard, nor had results been so wavering. Not only were the spells
being corrupted, but the magic he sought to perform was affected
the moment he bent the power to his will.

He put everything he had into closing
the spell and unraveling the Gordian Knot of corrupted power
conduits. Wending his way through the convoluted matrix, he was
about to reach the core spell when fissures erupted all around
where his senses sought to penetrate.

Power took hold of his mind’s eye and
a backlash of magic wrenched the spell from him and dropped him to
his knees.

“James!” Jiron shouted
again.

He felt a hand upon his
shoulder.

“We got to get off this ship!” the
knifer yelled.

Arcs of magic were striking all around
them.

Father Vickor stroked amongst them
with mace aloft and the righteous power of Morcyth blazing like a
sun. He drew the arcs to his mace. Each time contact with one was
made, there was an explosion of magic and a secondary arc of power
traveled from his mace out to sea.

The priest within the bubble was gaunt
and had fallen to his knees. Hair grown white, his robes soaked
with sweat, he raised his arms and cried out one last time before
the protective bubble completely failed.

Arcs of power immediately struck the
priest; targeting each hand, his head and through the heart. They
drained the life out of him in an instant.

“Come on,” Jiron urged.

Taking James under the arms, he hauled
his friend to his feet.

Suddenly the ship pitched to the
right. James and Jiron were thrown to the deck as the entire ship
trembled.

A mammoth set of flukes, larger than
any whale’s, appeared off the port side. They slapped the side of
the ship, breaking off a sizeable chunk of the railing and part of
the deck, dragging it back with it beneath the surface.

“By the gods!” exclaimed
Potbelly.

Arcs continued flying from the specks.
Father Vickor successfully dealt with most of them, but a few still
got through. An explosion of light knocked Shorty back to the rail.
Off-balanced, his legs hit the edge and he tumbled over.

Scar appeared from out of nowhere,
dove and grabbed him by the leg just before he fell to the
water.

Below, the water was a maelstrom of
thrashing fish of all size, colors and textures. Long thing
eel-like creatures with jagged teeth, others more translucent while
still others, greater than the size of a man, fought amongst each
other with mindless ferocity.

“Thanks, man,” Shorty croaked as Scar
extended his hand to pull him back up on the deck.

Down below, the fish-choked water
parted as a massive, teeth-filled mouth shot for the
knifer.

Scar yanked him on board just at the
fish’s mouth snapped shut where Shorty had been but a moment
before. As it bell back to the water, it twisted and snared one of
the smaller fish that thrashed uncontrollably before going
under.

The front of Shorty’s shirt was gone
as was a good layer of skin beneath. His legs wouldn’t sustain him
and Scar settled him to the ground.

“Vickor!” he shouted but the priest
failed to hear.

Aglow in Morcyth’s power, Father
Vickor continued fending off the attacks of the specks.

“If we don’t get off this ship,”
Potbelly said, coming to his friend’s side, “we’re
dead.”

The three shimmering fields had met
and were now swirling in the sky above like a hurricane. Winds
whipped even harder and the lightning had grown in both severity
and frequency.

Off the starboard bow, a massive black
back of a great behemoth rose from beneath the surface. It crested
and in a great spray of water, its flukes struck the surface
killing most of the fish caught beneath.

“Can you stand?” Jiron asked his
friend.

James put a hand on Jiron’s shoulder
and rose. Though his knees knocked, he made it to his feet. “Get
everyone as far back as you can,” he said. “We…” he began then
stopped when an intense glowing object drew closer from the north.
It took him but a moment to realize what it was.

“Miko!” he shouted with great
joy.

Captain Anyn stood at the wheel
angling his ship to come abreast with theirs. Miko had the Star in
hand at the bow, its glow permeated the entire ship from bow to
stern, even up to the very tip top of the main mast. Every inch of
the ship resonated with the power of Morcyth.

“Come on!” Miko urged as the ship came
close.

Scar, Potbelly and Shorty ran and with
a foot on the rail, vaulted over the narrow gap between the two
ships.

“Father Vickor!” Jiron
yelled.

The priest stood between them and the
now intensely sparking specks. Fields of destructive force emanated
outward from them in periodic magical bursts. From three, tendrils
extended over the side and into the water, feeding on the life
swimming just below. A fourth grew dimmer with each burst while the
fifth was all but spent. The sixth had long since dissolved into
nothingness.

Glancing over his shoulder, Father
Vickor nodded and started backing up.

Jiron helped James to the
railing.

“I’m fine,” James said and shrugged
off Jiron’s assistance.

Shorty and Scar stood on the other
rail and held out their hands.

As James took their hands, the ship
pitched again as another of the mammoth, whale-like creatures
surfaced alongside. His feet slipped from the railing and if not
for the strength of their grips, would have fallen to the water
below. Slamming into the side of Captain Anyn’s ship, he panicked
for a moment before they hauled him aboard.

Jiron and Father Vickor both had both
been knocked to the deck. The ship listed heavily toward the
stern.

“It’s sinking!” shouted Scar. “Get out
of there.”

Getting to his feet, Jiron was again
slammed back to the deck when a bolt of lightning struck the main
mast.

Down on one knee and clothed in the
power of his god, Father Vickor held out his mace and a protective
shield sprang into being a moment before arcs of power from the
specks struck in an explosion of light and energy.

“Can’t you do anything?”

James turned to Shorty, pointed to the
churning shimmering fields above, and shook his head. “Not with
that up there. Whatever I try will be corrupted and could prove
fatal.”

Jiron had returned to his feet and had
joined with Father Vickor. Together, they made for the
railing.

“They must move faster,” murmured
Scar.

As if heeding his warning, their two
friends turned and raced for the railing.

Arcs of power slammed into Father
Vickor’s shield as if loath to have them leave.

At the rail, Father Vickor leapt,
propelled himself off the railing with a mighty kick, then sailed
across the gap. Father Keller and Kip were there to catch
him

Jiron leapt across and landed nimbly
next to the Pit Masters.

Miko turned to Captain Anyn. “Get us
out of here!”

Spinning the wheel, the ship angled
away from the other.

The high priest turned to Azhan.
“Now,” he said.

Summoning magic, the apprentice mage
filled the sails.

“Aren’t you afraid of his spells being
corrupted?” Shorty asked.

Miko shook his head and held for the
Star. “So long as the power of Morcyth envelopes him and the area
of effect of the spell, he will be shielded.”

The knifer looked to James for
corroboration.

James nodded. “It’s true. Don’t ask me
why or how.”

As they headed north, the enemy
flagship sank beneath the waves. Above where it went under, specks
continued sparking and fizzing, sending arcs of power outward in
random directions. A few would strike the glow surrounding their
ship. Other than an eruption of light and a concussion blast, they
did nothing.

“How long is that going to go on?”
Scar asked.

“Not much longer,” James replied.
“It’s reaching critical mass.”

“Is that bad?”

“Was Tapu bad?”

The Pit Master blanched.

“
Don’t worry,” James said,
chuckling. “Doubt if it will be that bad. In fact, I think that…”
Eyes widening, he trailed off as the back of a massive behemoth
rose out of the ocean next to the rail. The ship pitched to side
and still the creature rose from the depths. It then twisted and
literally shoved the ship sideways.

Sailors screamed, everyone was thrown
to the side; one of Captain Anyn’s men went overboard. The man hit
the side of the creature then slipped down between the beast and
the side of the hull.

Timbers along the port side snapped
and the smaller mast broke off at the base. The main mast had a
visible crack in it some four feet up from the deck.

“Kill the wind!” James
yelled.

As the sails went slack, the behemoth
sank beneath the surface. The ship listed noticeably to
port.

“Captain!” a sailor hollered as he
raced from below; the sound of panicked horses followed him up. “We
are breached!”

Racing from the wheel, Captain Anyn
flew down the hatchway.

The ship continued tilting further to
port.

“We’re sinking?” asked Kip.

James turned to Miko. “Does the glow
extend to the keel?”

The Star flared slightly. “It does
now.”