Brian Rathbone - The Dawning of Power

Groaning as she flexed against the tremendous forces, the ship slowed. Holding on, Catrin cried out as Farsy and another man tumbled from the rigging and into the dark waters below. Finally cresting the wave, the Slippery Eel seemed to drop from the sky.

Benjin watched, helpless, as the Slippery Eel was lost from sight. Death would come no matter which course they chose, he thought. He would have preferred to stay together, but Nora and Fasha stood firm and stayed their course, away from the eruption. Powerless and impotent, he cursed fate and waited for the inevitable.

Rising up to blot out the sky, the wave came, roaring as it displaced the wind. Tying himself to a cleat that protruded from the deck, Benjin stood facing the stern, staring up at the roiling sky, only rope and harness keeping him from falling into the water below. Feeling more as if he were on the face of a cliff than the deck of a ship, he closed his eyes and held on as tight as he could.

Overwhelmed by the speed and height of the wave, the Stealthy Shark rolled forward, tumbling end over end along the crest like a piece of driftwood in the surf. Above the roar could be heard the snapping of wood. The rigging was torn away first along with the masts, but then the seas claimed the deckhouse, steerage, and most of the gunwales, tearing them away is if they were made of parchment.

When Benjin once again felt air on his face, he sucked a deep breath and prepared to be plunged beneath the water again, but what remained of the Shark stayed upright and raced down the trailing edge of the swell. Looking around, he saw Fasha still moored to a cleat. Like him, she had chosen to tie herself off to a part of the deck itself. The choice had saved their lives, but they were alone; no one else remained.

Fasha looked up after untying herself. "I've lost the Shark."

Life is fragile and can be quelled in uncountable ways. -Brachias Pall, assassin

Momentarily weightless, Catrin hung, suspended in air, until her feet touched the deck once again. The Slippery Eel slammed into the trailing edge of the wave and raced back toward the relatively calm waters behind it. More waves came but none as big as the first.

"Men overboard!" Catrin shouted. Not far away, she spotted someone in the water. Determined to help, she tied an oar from one of the boats to the end of a rope and cast it toward him. For several tense moments, Catrin watched Farsy try to reach the oar, fighting the waves. Kenward slowed the ship, and Farsy grasped Catrin's line.

Chase came to her aid, and they pulled him in, wrapping him in blankets once he was on deck. The crew searched the water for the other man, but he was lost. After a headcount, they found it was Nimsy, a man who'd always been kind to Catrin, and she wept in mourning, tears streaking her soot-stained face as she continued to shovel ash from the deck.

"Have mercy! The finger of the gods!" someone shouted, and Catrin looked to the rigging, following the stares. There she saw a terrifying sight. Orange and red flames licked the rigging without consuming or even scorching it. Fingers of liquid light crawled over the mast and crow's nest, reaching toward the sky. Sheets of translucent flame enveloped the sails and danced over them, seemingly without touching them, as if it were only the specter of fire. It was almost like what she had seen in the Pinook harbor but visible to all.

The energy of the ash storm intensified, reaching out to them, and Catrin feared they would be struck by ghastly red lightning. When the crew began praying and casting offerings into the sea, she joined them by offering a lock of her hair. Perhaps if she gave something of herself, she thought, the gods would show mercy.

Shouts on the other side of the deck got her attention, and a crowd gathered there as Nimsy was miraculously pulled from the water. Could the gods have heard their prayers? Unsure what to believe, Catrin cut a much larger lock of her hair and cast it into the waves, knowing it could do no harm.

Turning slowly, the Slippery Eel came about and made for the waters where the Stealthy Shark had last been seen. The ash cloud blotted out the sky from above, and more ash rolled steadily across the water toward them.

"Take cover in the deckhouse!" Kenward ordered, and the crew rushed to comply, seeing what looked like the breath of a demon bearing down on them. "Hold your breath and cover yourselves," he shouted just before the remains of the pyroclastic cloud washed over the Slippery Eel, engulfing her in a rolling maelstrom of ash and fire. When it passed, shouts and coughing were all that could be heard. Covered in ash and burns, the crew put out the fires and gave every effort, but the ash accumulated faster than they could remove it, slowly pulling them under.

Like a blessing from the gods, a strong wind descended from the north and drove the ash before it, dispersing it. While it made the problem worse for a while, eventually the air began to clear and the sun was visible behind a foul and gauzy haze. Ash still fell, but the intensity was greatly dissipated as the wind diffused the ash and spread it over a larger area. Fire still belched from what remained of the mountain, but even that began to subside.

Tears filled Catrin's eyes as the first of the debris appeared. Seeing only small bits at the start, she prayed the Stealthy Shark had survived, but then large chunks began to appear, scattered across the waves. Kenward watched with his jaw clenched, and Catrin could almost see his heart breaking. She held her breath, waiting for something to wake her from this nightmare.

"Survivors to port!" the lookout shouted, and Catrin ran to see who it was. On a floating section of sail and rigging were Strom, Osbourne, Nora, and three of Fasha's crewman. Elated, Catrin help lower the boarding net while men cast out lines for them to grab on to.

Osbourne reached the deck first and asked for help preparing a litter. "Nora's hurt bad," he said. "We're gonna need help getting her aboard."

Kenward and his crew moved with determination that bordered on panic. Soon, though, the crewman secured Nora to the litter and she was raised to the deck. Barely conscious, she apprised Kenward on her condition and how her wounds were to be treated. Even as they set broken bones and closed gaping wounds, she continued to give orders through clenched teeth.

"Find Fasha," she said before her eyes closed. Kenward stood over her, willing her chest to rise and fall.

"Do what you can to find the rest," Catrin said. "I'll come for you if her condition changes."

"Bless you," he said as he turned back to his crew. "Get boats in the water! I want everyone found. Now!" As soon as the boats were in the water, he moved the Eel away, looking for anyone in the distance.

Nora was taken to Kenward's cabin and made as comfortable as possible. She drifted in and out of consciousness, mumbling incoherently. Catrin sat at her side, trying to remember what she had learned from past attempts at healing. Perhaps she was fooling herself, she thought, but her efforts seemed to calm Nora and sent her into a peaceful sleep. After a time, Catrin felt she had done what she could do, and she went in search of Kenward to apprise him of her condition. He stood at the wheel, his eyes filled with tears. They had found more debris but no more survivors. As daylight began to fade, he turned the Eel back to retrieve the boats.

Cheers carried across the water as three more of Fasha's crew were pulled into the boats. Catrin and Kenward stood side by side, trying to deny the harsh reality. Benjin, Fasha, and most of her crew were lost. The Stealthy Shark was no more.

"I'm so sorry," Kenward said as his shoulders began to shake. His poignant anguish washed over Catrin, mixed with her own, and drove a wedge into her soul. Impotent rage gnawed at her very being, and she felt as if she would erupt, just as the mountain had.