CALLING THE CRAFT, WIGG LEVITATED ONE OF HIS WHITErooks, then caused it to hang inverted from the game board’s underside. “Check,” he said.
Faegan smiled. “Too obvious, First Wizard,” he answered. After some thought he judiciously moved his threatened king one space rightward. Now it was Wigg’s turn to worry.
The two mystics were sitting in Faegan’s quarters aboard theTammerland, playing wizard’s chess. The game was much like ordinary chess, but with two important differences. First, the black-and-white game board was suspended in the air. Each of the board’s sides held the same number of black and white squares.
Second, each player commanded two armies rather than one. Thus two opposing armies lay atop the board, and another two clung to its underside. Pieces could be moved from one of the board’s sides to the other and back again, with the proviso that the player’s next move must take place from that board’s side.
Smiling, Faegan used the craft to turn over the three-minute sand globe resting near his elbow. As the trapped sand poured down, he looked at Wigg and sipped some more tea.
“I believe that you might be done for this time,” he said. “If you aren’t careful, I will take one of your kings in four moves.”
“Be still!” Wigg demanded. “I’m trying to concentrate! And don’t be so cocky! You might win more often than I, but that doesn’t mean you will today!”
Suddenly suspicious, Wigg pursed his lips. “Why would you warn me about my king?” he asked.
Faegan cackled softly. “Because it doesn’t matter,” he answered. “You won’t figure it out until it’s too late.”
Narrowing his eyes, Wigg looked at the board’s two sides and considered his options. Faegan smiled as he watched the telltale vein in Wigg’s forehead start throbbing-a sure sign that the First Wizard was feeling stressed.
As the two wizards concentrated on their game, all seemed normal with the Conclave fleet. The night sea was calm, and clouds slipped gently across the sky, occasionally blocking the moonlight. Each of the six Black Ships was sailing atop the waves in the traditional way while their empowering mystics rested. For the last two days the fleet had forged ahead without incident.
Tyranny’s plan was to wait until all three of her roving scout patrols returned before again ordering the ships into the air. If one of the patrols sighted the Citadel, a course correction might be needed. With the fleet’s slower speed atop the waves, an adjustment would be smaller, thus saving time. Two of the patrols had returned but had seen nothing. Traax’s group was overdue, but was not so late as to cause concern.
Wigg again called the craft, this time moving a knight from the board’s underside to its topside. He reached out and inverted the timing globe.
Faegan scowled. “What in blazes are you doing?” he asked. “That was perhaps the most foolish move I have ever seen!”
Smiling, Wigg sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “Time will tell,” he answered.
As Faegan concentrated on the game, Wigg stared thoughtfully at his old friend. Despite his normally jocular nature, Faegan always seemed obsessed about something. Everyone who knew him understood that. More often than not, the crippled wizard’s fixations involved some craft mystery that he was trying to unravel. As soon as he succeeded at deciphering one, he always managed to find another to brood over.
But Wigg sensed that there was something else on the crippled wizard’s mind-something that bothered him deeply. Moreover, he thought he knew what it was. Faegan had unfinished business to complete, and Wigg guessed that he would not rest until it was done.
Deciding to broach the subject, Wigg first took another sip of red wine. After placing the glass back atop the table he laced his long fingers together.
“You want him, don’t you?” he asked. “That’s the real reason you decided to come on this mission, rather than wait at the palace for Tristan to return home. You want to find him and kill him with your own hands, and you won’t rest until you do.”
Faegan reached out to gently tip the three-minute glass on its side, meaning that he wanted a break from the game. After taking another sip of tea, he looked into Wigg’s face.
“I thought I was the only one who knew,” he said.
“I don’t believe that the others realize it,” Wigg answered. “They haven’t known you for three centuries like I have. But I gather that Jessamay suspects. Little escapes her sorceress’s acumen, you know.”
“How true,” Faegan answered.
“You believe Reznik escaped to the Citadel,” Wigg said, “along with the other surviving Valrenkians. I think you’re right.”
Faegan nodded. “It’s the only answer that fits. If so, Serena might have taken them into her employ. It would be to her advantage, after all. Only the Afterlife knows what evil she might be ordering the Valrenkian community to concoct. Of all people, I needn’t tell you that Vagaries practitioners have little regard for human life other than their own. The farther we sail, the more apprehensive I become. I fear that the Necrophagians were only the beginning of our troubles.”
Wigg was acutely aware of Faegan’s hatred for Reznik, even though the two enemy mystics had never met. Being outfoxed by another wizard was hard enough on Faegan’s infamous ego. But the humiliation of being duped and nearly killed by a partial adept carried a nasty sting.
His jaw hardening, Faegan looked into Wigg’s eyes. “Yes, I want to kill him,” he said quietly. “He deserves to die for more reasons than I can count. If we are lucky enough to find him, I want it understood that he is mine.”
Wigg nodded. “Very well,” he answered. “I will take the liberty of telling the other members. There will be no disagreement.”
As he turned to look out one of the ship’s portholes, Wigg found his mind returning to Eutracia. He took another sip of the excellent wine.
“What is it?” Faegan asked.
Wigg judiciously rolled the wineglass back and forth between his palms for a moment. “It’s Tristan,” he replied. “I worry about him constantly. Only the Afterlife knows what that creature Xanthus did with him, or why.”
“You are not responsible for Tristan’s fate,” Faegan answered. “From what you told me, he had no choice. Nor did you have any choice but to let him go.”
“I know,” Wigg answered. “It’s just that-”
Suddenly theTammerland heaved mightily into the air, the angle on her bow easily as sharp as when the ship had violently risen to escape the Necrophagians. Wigg’s concentration slipped, allowing the chess board and its pieces to go clattering to the floor. Just as quickly all the room’s furniture slid aft, taking the wizards with it.
His eyes wide, Wigg looked at Faegan. They immediately understood that something must have gone terribly wrong abovedecks. Besides themselves, Jessamay was the only mystic aboard with the power to raise the ship so dramatically. Worse, Tyranny would have never allowed such a violent maneuver unless the situation was dire.
As they tried to hurry for the door, the wizards heard Minion drummers suddenly start hammering out the maritime drum roll called “beating to quarters.” It was the clarion call for all Minion warriors while at sea, ordering them to their action posts. Even from several decks below, Wigg and Faegan could hear the sounds of Minion boot heels urgently pounding across the ship’s topsides.
Knowing that there was no time for discussion, the two wizards struggled for the door. Finally traversing the sharply angled floor, they clawed their way up the inclined hall and toward the aft stairway.
FROM HER PLACE AT THETAMMERLAND’S STERN RAIL, TYRANNYlowered her spyglass, then looked blankly out across the ocean again. In all her years at sea she had never met such a threat.
“Is it true?” Shailiha asked urgently. “Are Axel and Valgard right about what they told us?”
Adrian and Scars were also standing beside her. Everyone was holding on to the rigging, so as not to fall backward while theTammerland continued her steep climb. Jessamay clung to the ship’s wheel and was straining her powers to the utmost to keep theTammerland rising. As the flagship flew higher, her timbers and masts groaned torturously, like they were about to come apart. Tyranny handed the spyglass to the princess.
“Look for yourself,” Tyranny answered. “It is beyond your imagination. I doubt we can escape it.”
Shailiha quickly brought the spyglass to one eye, then twisted its cylinders to bring the threat into better focus. When she saw the danger her jaw dropped.
About one league away, a deadly wall of water had risen to more than two hundred meters and was heading directly toward the fleet. Just as the two warriors from Traax’s patrol had said, the wave stretched to the north and south for as far as the eye could see-even with the aid of the spyglass. The swarming beings that the returning warriors had also warned of were accompanying it.
The warrior manning theTammerland ’s forwardmost crow’s nest had seen the threats and had quickly rung the warning bell. But because cloud cover sometimes blocked the moonlight, he had not seen them soon enough to do the fleet much good. Then Axel and Valgard had unexpectedly crashed to the ship’s deck. They had been nearly dead from exhaustion.
Although the warriors had returned ahead of the wave, they had lost much of their lead to its amazing speed. After hearing their incredible tale, Tyranny knew that there was only one way to survive. The mystic aboard each vessel must force her ship to climb to her utmost while reversing course. Tyranny had immediately issued the orders, then commanded the Minions to their action stations.
Still gasping for breath, Axel had finished his bizarre report with more bad news. Traax and his remaining warriors were surely dead, he said. There could have been no other outcome.
Shailiha absently handed the glass to Scars. After looking for a moment, he used one meaty hand to angrily collapse the spyglass’s cylinders. Shaking his head, he gave his captain a grim look.
“We won’t escape it!” he shouted. “We weren’t given enough warning! Even at our current rate of climb the wave will strike us! You were also right to reverse course, but I fear that our actions won’t be enough!”
Scars turned to look at the other Black Ships as they struggled to match theTammerland ’s steep climb. He quickly pointed at them.
“Our sister ships are faring even worse!” he shouted. “The acolytes aboard them don’t have Jessamay’s strength!”
Everyone turned to look at the five struggling warships. Flying behind and below theTammerland, their bows were raised at distinctively lesser angles, hampering their climbs.
As she looked, Shailiha’s heart sank. She knew that the acolytes were doing all they could. But if Scars believed that theTammerland would be engulfed by the oncoming wave, the others didn’t stand a chance.
“Where are Wigg and Faegan?” Tyranny shouted. “We need them!”
No sooner had the privateer asked the question than the two wizards exited the stern stairway. Holding on to the railing, they struggled their way toward the others.
“What is going on?” Wigg shouted.
Tyranny pointed astern. By this time the huge wave and its accompanying creatures could be seen with the naked eye. Just then a patch of magenta moonlight caught the wave, illuminating its terrifying splendor. It would be on them in moments. As everyone watched, Serena’s flying creatures started diving down to start their attack.
“I beg the Afterlife,” Wigg breathed.
“What do we do?” Tyranny demanded. “Can you stop it, or turn it away somehow?”
Wigg shook his head. “Its power is beyond our gifts!” he answered. “Our only chance is to outrun it!”
“What purpose do the flying creatures serve?” Shailiha shouted. “Surely the wave is enough to destroy us all!”
Faegan looked up at Shailiha from his wooden chair. It was plain to see that he was as thunderstruck as Wigg.
“Those monsters have but one purpose!” he shouted. “They will attack in force to overwhelm the Minions! If they kill the mystic aboard each ship then the vessels will crash back to the sea, their fates a certainty when the wave rushes over them! That is why they are diving well ahead of it! Order every warrior into the air at once! They have to meet that swarm head-on and somehow keep those beasts from breaking though!”
Shailiha immediately barked out some orders. At once warriors by the thousands left theTammerland ’s decks to fly toward the advancing swarm. More soared downward to relay the princess’s orders to the other ships. Soon the night sky filled with their beating wings, and thousands of dreggan blades flashed menacingly in the moonlight. Wigg quickly called three more warriors forward.
“Take me, Faegan, and Adrian to three of the other ships!” he ordered them.
“What are you doing?” Tyranny demanded. “We need you here!”
“Not as badly as they do!” Wigg countered. “Jessamay must continue to climb theTammerland! But the weaker acolytes need us! It is the only way! The two remaining sisters that we cannot help will just have to do the best they can!”
Scars, Tyranny, and Shailiha watched the warriors take the three mystics in their arms. The Minions launched into the air and disappeared into the darkness over the stern rail.
Shailiha turned to look at Jessamay. The sorceress was near exhaustion, her legs shaking as she tried to keep theTammerland climbing ever higher. Just then Shailiha heard a terrible noise and turned to look.
As the wave chasing them drew ever nearer, the Minion hordes and the swarming Vagaries creatures clashed head-on.
LOOKING WEST, TRAAX COULD BARELY SEE THE GIANT WAVEas it approached the fleet. Straining with everything he had, he tried to fly faster. But blood loss from his wounded arm and carrying Aldaeous had taken their toll. He struggled higher, hoping to find a tailwind, but there wasn’t one.
He watched proudly as his warriors soared from the Black Ships’ decks to counter Serena’s deadly swarm. Like his friend Yuri and the other warriors who had died during the last battle, they would not understand about the creature’s deadly tails until it was too late. Desperate with frustration and anger, he screamed out a warning. But from so far away it of course did no good. Exhausted, he looked down at his unconscious friend.
Wondering if Aldaeous was dead, Traax hovered for a moment. Supporting Aldaeous as best he could with one arm, he felt for a pulse. There was none.
He remained like that for some time, wondering what to do. Finally he bid Aldaeous farewell and let go of the body. Tumbling end over end, it splashed into the dark sea.
Just then he heard a mighty crashing sound. Looking west, he saw Minion warriors by the thousands flying headlong into Serena’s deadly swarm. Stretching his wings farther, he did his best to again head for the fleet. Then he noticed something else, and his heart fell.
The Black Ships were climbing fast, thereby becoming even more difficult for him to catch. Worse, Tyranny had wisely ordered that the fleet turn west, trying to buy time in their escape from the monstrous wave.
Good, he thought. Perhaps they’ll survive. But by doing so, they have sealed my fate.
Straining with his last bit of energy, Traax tried to make up the growing distance between him and the fleet. But with each beat of his wings, the ships were pulling away even faster.
He suddenly felt something warm and wet against his skin. Looking over, he saw that his tourniquet had loosened and that fresh blood was streaming down his wounded arm. Exhausted as he was, there was no telling how long he had been bleeding. Reaching over with his right arm, he cinched the tourniquet tighter.
Looking west again, by this time he could barely see the fleet. Before starting out once more he looked down at Duvessa’s betrothal pin to find it splattered with blood. He flew on.
Soon his eyes grew heavy, and he knew it was the end. He struggled as best he could to stay in the air, but each wing beat had become tortured, useless.
My wings are so heavy, he thought. If only I could rest.
Then the blood loss finally overcame him.
His mind and body finally at the breaking point, Traax tumbled into the sea.
RAISING HER DREGGAN, DUVESSA STRUCK ANOTHER OF THEawful things from the air. After summoning her female warriors to the top deck of theCavalon, she had proudly led them against the swarming mass of creatures. From all around her came the sound of warriors screaming, and the beasts’ manic victory cries. The killing was happening at such a frantic pace that blood flew through the air almost in torrents.
Suddenly she saw one of the things snap its tail and wrap it around the waist of one of her warrior-healers. The warrior screamed wildly in pain. Flying to her, Duvessa raised her dreggan, and brought it down viciously.
Even so, the beast’s sinewy tail refused to sever. Again and again she cut into it until its victim was freed. She then plunged the dreggan’s tip into the beast’s right eye. Black blood spurted from the eyeball to splatter against her body armor. Looking down, she saw that it had covered Traax’s betrothal pin.
Suddenly a different emotion stabbed her heart, and she knew. It was often said that something in the Minion soul told each one when his or her mate was dying. Some claimed that it was a secret mechanism of the craft, purposely added to the spell Failee had used to create them. Others insisted that it was the Minions’ amazing sense of duty, binding each warrior to the other.
No matter the reason, Duvessa knew that Traax was failing, and she could do nothing about it. As tears ran freely from her eyes she harshly collected herself. Screaming, she viciously struck another of the terrible things down, hoping that it had been the one that had attacked her betrothed.
Her chest heaving, she swiveled in the air. Terrible carnage reigned for leagues in every direction. The dark night sky made it impossible to see whether the Minions were keeping the swarm from reaching the Black Ships.
Peering through the dark, she tried to see the fleet but couldn’t. Deciding that she must know the ships’ fates, she avoided two sidelong skirmishes and flew quickly upward, straight through the melee. Another beast lunged at her; she deftly avoided it. As she flew higher, another tried wrapping its tail around her leg but missed. Ignoring it, she kept going higher.
Finally she broke free of the fight. Here the sky was almost windless. Soaring westward over the raging battle, she finally reached its leading edge. She stopped to hover and looked down.
To the west, the six Black Ships were still struggling skyward. For some reason theTammerland, theFlorian, theCavalon, and theEphyra were well ahead of the others in their rush to avoid the giant wave. Aghast, Duvessa could only watch as the wave approached the sterns of the two slower ships.
It took theMalvina first, its relentless crest crashing down atop her. The ship’s bow wildly surfaced; then she exploded from the water to completely turn over in midair. Masts snapped like toothpicks, and all the ship’s superstructures were instantly wiped clean from her decks like leaves in a stiff breeze. Then the once-majestic ship broke cleanly in half and the wave engulfed her for the second and final time. Like nothing had happened, the terrible surge kept rushing forward, threatening another Black Ship.
TheIllendium was next. The wave’s incredible power slammed into the ship’s aft deck, tilting her vertical. Then the wave slammed flat against her entire topside and tore her apart. With a tortured groan theIllendium ’s remains were tossed about like pieces of some child’s broken toy. Then the wave’s crest cascaded over them, taking them and everyone aboard under. From her vantage point high in the sky, all Duvessa could do was watch.
As the wave crashed ever onward, Duvessa screamed with despair. Within moments it would reach theTammerland.