Morgan Rice - A Land of Fire

Thor jumped on his back, pinned him down to the sand with one knee, drew a dagger, and turned the man over and held it to his throat.

“Where is my baby?” Thor demanded, eyes bulging with panic and rage.

The man mumbled something in a language Thor could not understand, panic in his eyes.

Thor, desperate, tightened the blade against the man’s throat.

“MY BABY!” Thor shrieked, turning and pointing at Indra, who held the screaming baby girl.

The villager finally seemed to understand, and he mumbled something again.

“I don’t understand!” Thor yelled.

The man suddenly turned and pointed up, over Thor’s shoulder.

Thor turned and followed his finger, and he saw a distant mountain range, and near the top, winding its way up, a small procession of men. They were heading towards the top of the volcano, and in their center, raised above their heads, was a small case, born on poles, gleaming gold, shining in the sun.

A case just large enough to hold a baby.

Gwen ran through the ship, panic-stricken as she watched her people turning to stone, one after the next, and falling over the rail, into the water. It was like something out of her worst nightmare. Quickly, she was losing her ranks, the thousands of survivors of the Ring piled onto three ships, quickly thinning out.

Gwen saw Steffen about to look over the edge, and she ran to him, grabbed him by the back of his shirt, and yanked him backwards. He went stumbling and landed on his rear, and he looked up at her in shock.

“Don’t look!” she cried. “You’ll be killed.”

Shock gave way to gratitude, as he realized. He stood and bowed before her.

“My lady,” he said, eyes welling with tears, “you saved my life.”

“Help me save others,” she replied.

Steffen rushed about to help the others, and he was joined by Sandara, Kendrick, Godfrey, Brandt and Atme, along with the new Legion members, Merek and Ario, all of them racing with Gwendolyn throughout the ship, saving people from looking over the edge, preventing people from getting too close to loved ones who had already turned to stone and were plummeting. Gwen watched a wife shriek as her husband had just turned to stone. She watched him clutch his body, refusing to let go, trying to keep him from falling over the edge, and then she herself inevitably looking over at the water. She, too, turned to stone, her face frozen in a look of agony, and together, her arms wrapped around him, as one big chunk of stone, they fell over the edge and plunged into the deep.

Gwen looked out at her other two ships and was horrified to see that one of them was now completely empty, all of the people on board having turned to stone and plummeted over. The railings were all broken from where the stones had smashed them, and there remained not a sole survivor left. In fact, as all the stones begin to pile up on one side of the ship, the ship itself began to list, and as Gwen watched, helpless, it began to sink.

The ship sank with increasing speed, and in moments it landed on its side in the water with a great splash, its sails smacking against the ocean. It lay on its side, bobbing, all its people dead before it even capsized, and Gwen felt sick to her stomach as she saw it sink completely into the water below.

Gwen could hardly believe that there now remained but two ships of the glorious fleet that had once set out from the Ring. Gwen looked about frantically, fearing she would lose all of her people here.

“Raise the masts!” she yelled to her admiral. “Double the men on the oars! Get us away from these waters!”

Men broke into action as bells sounded, taking positions, doing their best to move the ships along.

Gwen rushed to Sandara and grabbed her wrist, desperate for answers.

“How long will these waters last?” she asked.

Sandara shook her head grimly.

“They travel on the open ocean, my lady,” she said. “These waters are like a school of fish, passing through. I’ve never encountered them myself, but I’ve heard they pass quickly—especially with a strong wind.”

Gwen turned and peered out at the distant horizon, keeping her eyes up high, afraid to look down at the waters. It was hard to tell where they ended.

She turned and craned her neck and looked back up at the sails and was relieved to see them hoisted, and filled with a good wind. Men grunted all about her as they rowed and rowed.

“They might pass quickly,” Gwen said, “but we shall take no chances. You will all row until the tomorrow breaks!”

Gwen looked up, saw the sun at high noon, and knew it would be a long, backbreaking day for them all. But she would take no chances. It was still better than death.

Gwendolyn found Illepra, holding the baby, sheltering her, and Gwen’s heart soared in relief as she took her back. On the silent, somber air, all that could be heard was the lapping of the oars against the water, the cries of the gulls, and the soft moaning and sobbing of the survivors, heartbroken, mourning loved ones. They were the lucky ones. But Gwen did not feel lucky.

Indeed, as she looked out at the horizon and considered their meager rations, she knew this did not bode well. It did not bode well at all.

Gwendolyn, bleary-eyed, sat up and watched as dawn broke over the ocean, a thin purple line blending to scarlet, burning the mist off the ocean. A lone gull cried up above, and as the sky warmed, Gwen turned and surveyed her people: they were all bent over their oars, sleeping in place, exhausted from their efforts. It had been a long and harrowing day and night, and Gwen had thought it would never end. She had handed the baby to Illepra late in the night and had finally fallen asleep.

As the sun began to creep over the horizon, Gwendolyn, who had stayed awake all night, rose and took the first steps, the only one awake on the quiet ship. She made her way gingerly to the rail, the deck creaking as she went, and braced herself to look over, to examine the waters. She wanted to be the first to look, the first to know for sure that the waters were safe. She didn’t feel it was right to have one of her subjects test it. She was Queen, after all, and if someone were to die, it should be her. She felt it was her responsibility.

Gwen crossed the deck, and just as she reached the rail, a voice cut through the still morning air:

“My lady.”

Gwen turned and saw Steffen standing there, dark circles beneath his eyes, looking back at her with concern.

“I fear I know where you are going,” he said, his voice filled with worry.

Gwen nodded back.

“I will check the waters,” she replied.

Steffen shook his head and stepped forward.

“That is no job for a Queen,” he said. “I am your servant. Allow me to check.”

He began to walk forward, for the rail, but Gwen reached out and laid a hand on his wrist.

He turned to her.

“Thank you,” she said. “But no. It is my ship, my people. It is for me to check.”

His brow furrowed.

“My lady, you could die.”

“So can you. And who is to say my life is worth more than yours?”

Steffen’s eyes watered over as he looked back at her.

“You truly are a great Queen,” he said. “A Queen like no other.”

Gwen could hear how much he meant it, and it touched her.

Without further ado, Gwen turned, took two big steps to the rail, clutched it with trembling hands and closed her eyes, images flashing through her mind of all the people who had turned to stone. She prayed she did not meet the same fate.

Gwen opened her eyes and looked over, taking a deep breath and bracing herself.

The waters, lit by the morning sun, were glowing blue. Gwen looked carefully, and she was elated to see no trace of the lightened waters. The sea was back to the way it had been.