James Barclay - Beyond the Mists of Katura

Ulysan launched a ferocious attack on his end of the line. He dropped, swept the legs from one before he even registered the move, buried a blade in his neck, bounced to his feet and swiped his blades across in front of him, taking another in the head and chest.

Three left and still they would not flee, not that there was anywhere to run. The centre of the trio came at Auum, bringing the others with him. Auum crossed his blades in front of his face and at arm’s length to catch the heavy overhead blow from the Wesman’s axe. He felt the power in the man’s arms and saw the fury in his face.

Auum heaved the axe up, shifted quickly to the right and aimed a kick into the man’s knee, smashing the joint backwards. The warrior crumpled, trying to strike a blow as he fell. Auum moved beyond the wild swipe and stabbed him through his heart.

Ollem and Ulysan finished their work and the Tai ran on. It was just a handful of paces to the group of seven shamen, whose fire swept away from the Soul and towards the onrushing TaiGethen.

‘Jaqrui, jaqrui!’ yelled Auum.

He dropped both blades and dragged out his jaqruis, hurling them hard at the shamen. One caught the edge of a line of black fire and was knocked up and away to tear through the canvas above their heads. The second lodged in the base of his target’s neck. Blood spurted from the wound and the shaman clutched at himself, his fire dying with him. Auum saw Ulysan’s jaqruis take out two more.

Auum pitched himself to the deck, rolling low. Turning he saw the jaqruis still in Ollem’s hands. The whelp had sheathed his swords first, losing precious time. He got the blades away but a line of fire drilled into his chest above his heart, setting his leather jerkin aflame.

‘Ollem down!’ shouted Auum as he completed his roll, stood and lashed a kick into the shaman’s head, knocking him senseless and quenching his fire. Ollem gasped and fell. Ulysan flew over Auum’s head and thumped down in the midst of them. It was unsophisticated but very effective.

Ulysan was up the next instant, his feet and hands moving faster than any of them could follow. Auum ran around him to the crewmen standing at the wheel, who saw him coming. The helmsman let go of the wheel and scrabbled backwards to the aft rail. The captain, like his warriors, showed no fear and took the wheel himself.

Auum knocked him down with a straight punch to his mouth and nose. He glared at the helmsman. ‘Only way is to jump,’ he said in halting human.

He stood astride the captain. The man, his face bloodied and his nose flattened, stared at Auum through eyes confused by the blow to his head.

‘Who are you?’ he managed.

‘I am Auum.’ He took a jaqrui from its pouch and sliced the captain’s neck open.

The helmsman had jumped and would drown in the sea. Auum turned from the captain’s body and took the bobbing wheel. He turned it hard to starboard, towards the central ship of the rear line, which was already burning under the force of Stein’s spell. He wedged the captain’s body under the wheel, locking the rudder.

He trotted over to where Ulysan knelt with Ollem. The youngster was both moving and talking.

‘How do you feel?’ asked Ulysan.

‘I’ll live,’ said Ollem, coughing. ‘The heat. . Thank you, Auum.’

‘You were lucky. We’ll get Stein to take a look at you. Can you still fight?’ asked Auum.

‘I can.’

‘Good,’ said Auum. ‘Fast hands, Ollem.’

‘Yes, my Arch.’

Auum stood. The fight on the ship was all but done. He could see Duele at the prow, looking for more targets, but the body of one TaiGethen lay on the deck. Auum cursed.

‘Let’s clear up and get overboard. Much to do and the day is waning.’

Capricious moved steadily between her two enemies, one of which was beset by TaiGethen. The other was unchallenged for now. The distance to her had been too great for the TaiGethen to risk. The skipper would come around for another pass.

The shaman casting was relentless, scouring the barrier for weaknesses. Black fire spat through with increasing regularity, and Drech’s voice, calm at the outset, was strained as he fought to keep his adepts together.

Stein could sense the barrier beginning to weaken in several places and the shamen could sense it too. Their fire was moving steadily towards the mana lacing the construct, and where the two forces met the Wytch Lord power was the greater.

‘Takaar, that barrier is going to fail.’

Takaar stared at him as if he’d just recommended suicide.

‘How little you know,’ he snapped. ‘There is nothing they can do to pierce it.’ He giggled into his hands and whispered to his other self, casting a sidelong glance at Stein, who clung resolutely to his temper.

‘They are picking at the mana strands, Takaar. You only have to look.’

‘We have them defended.’

‘You do not!’ spat Stein. ‘Look, damn you.’

Takaar drew himself up and advanced on Stein. ‘You forget yourself, human. I am Ta-’

‘Save it,’ said Stein and he turned away. ‘Drech! Look to your mana stitching!’

‘You will not undermine me!’ howled Takaar.

Drech had heard him, Stein was certain of it. He felt a change in the focus through the barrier. He rounded on Takaar, finding him but a pace away.

‘I’m trying to save your life. All our lives.’

‘I am the voice on this vessel,’ said Takaar, so furious his face was colouring and his whole body shook. ‘How dare you speak for me?’

Stein made to grab his collar, but Takaar moved impossibly fast. Stein felt his hand being swept aside and himself falling, registering that his legs had been taken from under him only when his backside struck the deck hard. Takaar pounced on him, knees either side of his chest, his hands around Stein’s throat. He was smiling, and Stein felt a chill throughout his body alongside the trembling beat of his heart.

‘Not just Il-Aryn but TaiGethen too,’ said Takaar, increasing the pressure on his throat. He smirked. ‘Silly human thinks to lay a hand on me.’

‘Takaar.’ Stein gulped. ‘Don’t. We need each other.’

‘I think that time has passed.’

Takaar’s hands gripped tighter. Stein had his hands on the elf’s wrists but Takaar was strong and his madness only made him stronger. Stein began to choke, praying Drech or someone could see what was happening. Nothing else was going to save him.

A scream rent the air. Black fire cascaded through a great tear in the barrier, which collapsed in on itself, dumping freezing water across the deck. Takaar’s head snapped round and he was gone as fast as he had struck. Stein sat up. The Il-Aryn were sprawled on the deck or stumbling around dazed. One had blood pouring from her ears and she screamed again, her voice taken up by others.

‘Get it back!’ roared Takaar from somewhere, his voice desperate and high. ‘Get! It! Back!’

‘Too late,’ murmured Stein.

Black fire lashed the ship from the fingertips of a dozen hands. Stein dived for the questionable sanctuary that was the base of the mainmast, shuddering at the thought that he’d seen all this before and it hadn’t ended well. Jagged like lightning, the fire bit into rigging, sail and timber. Fingers of magic tore at the hull, ripping into timbers and shattering them, tearing off great splinters and hurling them up into the sky.

Fire laced the deck, spitting holes and slicing through yards, sheets and stays. Above him sailcloth burned. Black streaks pounded into the great trunk of the mainmast. Stein felt it shudder and creak above him, a snapping noise sounded deep within it.

All around him elves were diving for whatever cover they could find. Il-Aryn, crew and TaiGethen alike fled, and for far too many it was hopeless. Javelins of hateful magic buried in chest, face and gut, throwing their victims around like dolls. He saw a TaiGethen pinioned to the rail, fire blazing from his eyes, his body jerking and smouldering before the power was done with him and he fell into the water below.