D. Jackson - A Plunder of Souls

Ethan walked to the pier, knowing that the others would follow him. The Muirenn was moored at the base of the wharf, near the street, the ropes holding it to the iron cleats creaking as the ship shifted in the gentle swells of the harbor. He saw no one on board, but still as he approached the vessel he kept his knife poised over his arm.

“Kaille.”

He turned at the sound of the voice, which was thin and ghostly. A glowing figure stood near the entrance to a large warehouse. It was dressed in a man’s suit, but its face was so desiccated that Ethan couldn’t have said for certain if it had been a man or a woman. He assumed that it was an illusion, conjured by Ramsey.

“He’s in here,” the figure said, gesturing toward the doorway with a skeletal hand.

It didn’t wait for his response, but instead turned and shambled into the building.

“Charming,” Sephira muttered.

Gavin planted himself in front of Ethan. “Don’t go in there. It’s not too late for us to leave.”

“I’ve already told you, unless Ramsey is willing to leave Boston, never to return, I have no choice. I won’t cede my conjuring power to him, nor will I allow him to torture the families of Boston’s dead.”

“He’ll kill you. He’ll kill all of us.”

“I expect he’ll try. But if you want to leave, Gavin, you should. None of us will think any less of you.”

Gavin’s gaze wandered over their company, coming to rest at last on Janna. “No,” he said. “I won’t leave you now.”

“Very well.”

“I don’t relish the idea of stepping into a trap,” Sephira said. “Can you set fire to the warehouse and force them out?”

Ethan considered this. “Aye. That’s a fine idea.” To Mariz and Janna he said, “A fire spell.”

The conjurers faced the warehouse, their ghosts beside them, clasping hands once more. They cut themselves and recited in unison, “ Ignis ex cruore evocatus. ” Fire, conjured from blood.

Even as Ethan felt the spell humming in his bones, as if he himself were a musical instrument, it occurred to him that this couldn’t work, that it was too easy, too expected. He saw flames erupt from the warehouse walls and roof, and then saw them leap, just as abruptly, from the building back toward where they were standing.

For a single horrifying moment, he feared that their warding would fail; it was intended to block the conjurings of others, but might have no effect on their own spells. He felt the heat of those conjured flames on his face, his neck, his hands, and he threw up an arm to shield himself. Mariz and Janna did the same.

The force of the spell hit them an instant after the heat, pounding them like an ocean breaker and leaving them sprawled across the wharf.

Mercifully, none of them was burned, but this time Janna was slow to stir, and when Mariz joined Ethan at her side, he was limping.

“I’ve had just about enough of this shit,” Janna said, as Ethan helped her sit up.

Sephira walked to them, slapping the dust and dirt off of her waistcoat. “What in God’s name was that?”

“I would guess that Ramsey warded the warehouse,” Ethan said.

“And that possibility never entered your mind?”

“Not soon enough, no.”

Gavin sat a few feet away, appearing dazed.

“Maybe he’s right,” Ethan said to Mariz. “Maybe this isn’t a fight we can win.”

“I am more inclined to think that you were right when you said that this is not a fight we can avoid.”

“I didn’t come all this way to turn back now,” Janna said, a snarl in her voice. “So help me up, and let’s get in there.”

Ethan and Mariz helped her to her feet and retrieved her knife, which she had dropped.

To Sephira, Ethan said, “I don’t know what other wardings he has in place. Your pistols may not work against him or his men.”

“What about our knives?”

“I don’t know. These are uncharted waters for me. Ramsey is cunning, he’s powerful, and he’s girded for a war.”

She nodded, thin-lipped. “We’ll do what we can with his men. You just find a way to kill him.” She looked at Nap and her other men, before facing Ethan again. “We’re ready.”

Ethan wiped his sweaty palm on his breeches, gripped the hilt of his blade, and led them through the doorway into the warehouse.

The building was mostly empty, save for piles of wooden pallets, barrels, and crates. The captain stood at the far end of the structure, leaning against the wall, a knife in hand. His men were arrayed loosely before him in clusters of three and four. Ethan had no doubt that they had been expecting this confrontation, and were ready for a battle. But he had expected more elaborate preparations; either Ramsey had been careless, or he remained supremely confident. Ethan would have wagered every coin he had on the latter.

Seeing them, Ramsey straightened. “At last. I take it you’re done trying to burn down the building?”

His men positioned themselves in a broad arc. As in previous encounters, they were armed with knives and lengths of rope.

Ramsey walked forward, stepping between two of his men and halting a short distance from where Ethan stood. “I’m so glad to see that you survived my detection spells. I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t, but of course I couldn’t be sure. Your spellmaking doesn’t strike me as being particularly reliable.”

“Our spells are working well enough,” Ethan said. “You might consider that before doing anything rash.”

Ramsey’s gaze flicked to Mariz and to Janna. “I’m sorry to see you here, Miss Windcatcher. I always liked you. You shouldn’t have allowed Kaille to involve you in this matter.”

“Nobody talks me into anythin’, Nate. You know that about me. You’re tryin’ to take away my livelihood. You thought I’d let you do that?”

“So,” the captain said, his glare settling on Ethan once more. “You’ve managed to combine your power and conjure as one. And you think that will be enough to defeat me?”

“I think it should be enough to convince you that you can’t win. Take your ship and leave Boston, as you and I discussed. This doesn’t have to end badly for any of us.”

“I will admit that I’m impressed,” Ramsey went on, ignoring Ethan’s plea. “Blending your conjurings; that’s high spellmaking, Kaille. Obviously you’ve warded yourselves, which affords you some small protection. But this sort of magicking limits you so. Your sole hope in all of this was your numbers: three conjurers against one. If each of you could conjure on your own, I might have cause to fear you. But you can’t, can you?”

Ethan looked over at Gavin, who stood beside Janna, and who still appeared to be in a haze.

“We’re four conjurers,” Ethan said.

A grin split the captain’s face. “No, you’re really not.” And turning to Gavin, he said, “Now.”

The glazed look in Gavin’s eyes didn’t change. But he raised his knife-Ethan thought he intended to cut himself and cast a spell. Instead, he spun with more speed than a man of his age should have possessed, and hacked at Janna with the blade.

Ethan had no time to shout a warning. Janna’s eyes widened, and she managed to retreat half a step before the old man’s weapon found her. Her movement, however slight, saved her life. Gavin buried the blade to its hilt in her flesh, but it caught her high on her chest, closer to her left shoulder than to her heart.

She cried out. Blood gushed from the wound as she fell to the floor.

Gavin managed to wrench his knife free, drawing a gasp from Janna. He raised the weapon to strike again, but before he could Mariz launched himself at the man, tackling him around the waist. Gavin’s knife skittered across the warehouse floor. The old man made a croaking sound and struggled frantically to break free of Mariz’s grasp. Mariz reared back and hit him once, twice. Gavin went limp, blood seeping from his nose.