SamuKata
Michael Chatfield
Michael Chatfield

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Ilus Rises: Chapter 15 Part 2 of 2

Caelum skidded to a stop and hid behind a stack of barrels, an Inspector behind Krev turning his way.

Crap!

He’d seen four people in the middle of the street, surrounded by Krev and Zilthor. I have to tell the captain.

He went around the barrels and poked his head out of the other side of the barrel.

Krev and his people laughed at the crew of the Mesurial.

The woman in front patted her tri-corn hat, checking its placement. Bandoliers of pistols covered her body.

The other three were shifting slowly, each covering a direction.

The woman was talking, the wind taking away her words this far. Her hair red streamers behind her, catching the lantern light.

The wind dropped, letting her words through as she raised her head, her eyes milky white flames.

“So their souls are mine!”

Caelum’s heart shuddered in his chest at that reaper’s grin.

She drew a large weapon that looked like a miniature cannon in her hands.

The others moved. The second woman raised her hand, water tore through the planks of the dock, turned into shots that cut through clothes, skin and bone. Lightning crackled through her hands, her face impassive, her purple eyes detached.

The largest man stepped forward, armor entombing him, each part lighting with runes as it affixed itself to his body. Flames appeared under his feet as a sword nearly as tall as he was, shimmering with heat that made Caelum’s stomach quail, appeared in his hands.

The other mans armor wrapped around him, his green scarf hanging out as he cast a spell among Krev’s people behind him.

The woman’s miniature cannon went off.

Inspectors were torn apart and thrown backwards, blood coating the docks.

The lightning met the water bullets and arced through the sailors. Their screams turning into gritted teeth groans as they dropped to the dock, smoldering.

The green scarf wearing man, the one that had healed the people on the Spindle cast a ball of green fire that went off in a crack of noise that slapped Caelum in the chest.

He lowered his raised hand, the dock was shattered where the green ball of fire had been. People were missing, others had been thrown like rag dolls.

Green flames licked at the edges of his runed armor.

The flame-stepping man cracked decking three hands thick, built to support carriages laden with goods.

He lashed out with his blade, cutting a blue line through the air itself, bisecting two men with the blade as the blue line tore through several others and cut through crates and a small fishing ship beyond.

The captain’s weapon disappeared as she drew pistols from her belt.

She brought them up, firing from the hip, smashing back inspectors not caught in her blast, draw pistol, thumb hammer, pull trigger, store, it all happened in flowing seconds, her hands moving across her bandoliers.

Two more balls of green flame appeared among those behind the quartet.

The man with the massive sword moved back to the group.

“Time we were moving!” His eyes burned like they were born of the fire planes own heart.

The spell caster with purple eyes had drawn a bow, a quiver on her hip.

“Lets go.” She drew back an arrow and released it without looking, hitting a crossbowman on a roof.

The arrow launched them off of the roof, their clothes bursting into flames.

She pulled free a dagger from her shoulder and threw it, hitting Zilthor in the neck. He gurgled and coughed before going still.

His purse and several others floated to the woman before disappearing.

Storage devices. Has to be to pull all them weapons and armor from.

The captain turned and fired, taking out two more inspectors running up to the fight. “Petor, something to slow them!” She bent down, grabbing purses and valuables from the inspectors around Krev, causing them to disappear.

She turned and ran, the man with the sword stored it and drew an arbalest. I thought only ships used something that big!

They ran over the wounded and dying that the captain had laid low, each footstep, making the deck groan as they bounded forwards.

The man with the green scarf threw out a length of wood and threw it behind him. It hit the deck and wooden tendrils with ember burns shot out in every direction, creating a patch of thorny wood that wrapped around the dock’s planks, making them creak under the strain, black burn marks—coloring the wood.

Caelum pulled his eyes from the dock to the four figures now passing him.

The captain spotted him and winked, touching her hat.

Their slow jog faster than Caelum could hope to run.

The other woman and the men in armor rushed by, cutting through the wind.

He could imagine them smashing through a ship itself, or running into a primordial beast.

People scrambled out of their way.

Caelum pushed himself up and looked back at what remained of the ambush. Wounded got themselves up, those that hadn’t been hit climbed to their feet.

Workers and inspectors that had been nearby arrived on the scene.

Krev was pulled out from under two inspectors and a potion poured over his wounds.

I need to tell Captain Crixim! Caelum gritted his teeth and ran down the dock, jumping between small fishing boats to get over to another large dock, circling around to the Rusted Anchor inn.

***

Petor checked behind. “No one following us yet.”

“They have people on the ship?” Valter asked as they closed in on the ship.

Petor could make it out in the rising moonlight.

“They did,” Mya said.

Rope whirred and chains clattered ahead where Mesurial lay.

Screams were cut off and people were thrown from the ship, the screams returning.

Several cut off with dull thump as they impacted the dock or crashed into the water.

They wouldn’t be moving again.

“Grab the ropes!” Mya said, jumping for one hanging from above.

Petor stored his spear and jumped, grabbing on as it hauled him up and onto the ship.

He stumbled till he regained his feet. Valter taking several steps to arrest his momentum as Desari rolled and came back up to her feet, quiver and bow stored away as she turned for the rear of the ship, cursing under her breath.

“Just three fucking days and some fuckers just have to try and put their dick in it and fuck it up.”

“Oars prepare to push off!” Mya called out, reaching the helm, undoing the lines and turning the wheel

Wood scraped against wood belowdecks.

“Cast off mooring lines! Desari you ready?” Mya asked.

“Ready, Petor, power.”

He reached inside himself, finding the thread that connected them and let power flow through it.

“Heave!” Mya ordered.

Mesurial pushed away from the dock in one solid shove, making the ship roll back the other way slightly.

“Valter Port, Petor Starboard!”

He ran across the deck to the cannons and started pulling out the corks for the cannons.

The water swirled unnaturally underneath, turning the bow.

“Full sai~l!” Mya intoned.

Rope ran, pulleys squealed and the sails dropped canvas quickly.

Oars dug into the water and drew the ship forward, just beyond the ship they’d been next to.

The sails flapped in the sudden wind, pulling them away from Misty Cove.

People were yelling from the docks and surrounding ships.

Bells were ringing out on the docks, spreading throughout the city. Various lights were getting brighter.

Mesurial gathered speed, all of her lanterns and light darkening.

The sails stopped flapping, going tight as they were tightened into place.

“Starboard cannons ready!” Petor yelled as he reached the bottom of the poop deck.

“Stand ready,” Mya said.

They were picking up speed quickly, a quarter of the way down the dock towards the open sea.

Come on, faster.

“Something is coming up out of the water,” Desari yelled.

Valter ran up the deck to the bow.

“Chains!” He yelled back.

“Shit,” Mya hissed.

“It’s a net of chains being held by two towers on the docks,” Valter added.

“Can we cut the chains?” Petor asked.

“We’re going to have to!” Mya yelled.

Petor grimaced and ran forward to join Valter.

“See the towers.” He pointed to them on either side.

“Mean looking things, bet they got cannons?”

“Yeah.”

The chain between them was a massive thing, slowly and halting as it was brough up from the water. A long length of chain with smaller ones dangling from it.

It was taller than a fishing ship when it stopped. Blue runes flared along the chain. Ice spreading out from where they touched the water.

“They’re turning the water into ice so nothing can get below,” Valter said.

He took out his ‘heat’ hammer filled with thermal energy his runes flared brighter as he reached out a section of the chain smoked and glowed before Valter staggered, his hammer’s temperature now cold.

“Its well built, distributes along its length.”

“I have that orb of storm calling? That could shift it?”

“Those towers are built strong and tough,” Mya’s voice passing through the ship, dropping down to the main deck and running forward. “I’ll hit the chain, you use the storm to fling it clear. Valter you melt the ice. Desari smash us through.”

She dropped through a hatch.

Petor took out an orb, a storm flashing and spinning within.

Valter drew out the elemental sword, then grabbed a length of rope, checking it was attached and jumped over the bow of the ship.

Petor looked down, Valter was nearly level with the water, rope coiled around his left arm as he held the sword in his right, just barely above the waves, it hissed as spray hit it.

Twin ports opened and cannons trundled forward under the bow.

More lanterns were coming on, people looking from the docks.

There was movement in the towers but nothing had fired at them yet.

Petor rapped his knuckles on the railing hard. Stupid cursing thoughts.

The ship rose slightly and the staboard bow cannon fired.

Petor closed his eyes against the acrid smoke, blinking them clear the chain recoiled.

“Hit!” He yelled. Though it didn’t fall into the water, the ice was still growing.

Mesurial shifted and the port bow cannon fired.

“Miss!”

“Fucker!” Mya yell audible through the porthole.

The hatches closed as he heard her move below.

The lower deck’s hatches opened and those two cannons pushed out.

“Miss,” Petor grimaced. They had but one shot to make it count.

Light, like a shooting start burning up through the sky passed Petor. A streak of blue and violet that struck right where the first shot had.

Petor felt the hunger on the other side of his link with Desari and gave her all of his mana regeneration.

The Chain exploded in spectacular fashion, dragged to the depths by its own weight.

Petor infused his mana into the orb of storm calling, Mya’s steps taking her to the rear.

Clouds converged together, alight with flashes of thunder.

Its winds barely contained, full of energy, hot and cold clashing together. Petor reached out through it. The winds caught the chains and threw them apart, cracking the ice they had formed.

Lightning hit the ice, ripping through it. The wind smashing it.

The docks bucked and writhed. Bells chimed out as they were agitated.

“Desari says to use some of the wind to push us! Though be careful,” Mya relayed.

“Push us with half a fucking tornado, yeah sure, not the craziest thing I’ve done.”

“I’m hanging off a ship in a suit of armor with a sword as big as me and I can’t fucking swim!” Valter yelled from below.

“Well its not a contest!” Petor grumbled. The storm was a part of him, he’d used a large amount of the stored power already but there should be enough.

“Hurry up will yah! The locals are getting ready to lynch!”

“Bet they don’t even use flames, just water you to death.”

“I’m not in a mood to find out!” Valter grunted as he slashed out at the water, a line of fire cleaved steam through the water and cracked ice that was headed for them.

Petor drew down the cold air, rounding behind them and hitting the sails, giving them a jolt of more speed that kept increasing each second.

Lightning he directed ahead of them in a line towards the open water.

“Oars in!” Mya’s order repeated through the decking.

Their speed decreased slightly, but they were cruising fast.

Valter’s lines of fire tore through the smaller chunks that were ahead of them. Water shaped in a plow formed ahead of the ship, pushing what remained out of their path.

The ice bobbed in the water, some sections jumping up out of the water as they were broken free.

Petor drove the storm as they passed the towers, then out into open sea.

“No more ice!” Valter yelled.

“Oars out!” Mya yelled.

Valter grabbed the side of the ship, Petor pulled him over, the orb in his hand crumbling into dust as its power was consumed. The thunder rang out for the last time and the water churned but it began calming now the storm was no longer there.

Petor leaned over the side and looked back at Misty Cove.

“Well I guess we need to figure out where we should head to next!” Mya said.

“Good thing I grabbed a map,” Petor muttered.

“A map you say, lets have a look at it. We’ve got to make good time getting out of here before they send ships after us.”

“On my way,” Petor started jogging back to the poop deck, storing his armor away, Valter followed, doing the same. “First time for everything.”

“Gotta be like the—well I think that was number twelve? That one in Isola barely counted. Bunch of irate fishing ships. Those fucking darts were a pain in the ass.” Mya muttered. A chortle escaped her. “Bedrick got a dart right to the tush. Big feathered thing like a pompom, didn’t feel it for a half hour.”

“Twelve times you’ve had to escape a port?” Petor asked.

“Hey, its not my fault the locals get in a snit! Why do you think I had us turn the ship to face towards the sea?”

“But twelve times?”

“Jeremy was up to eighteen the last time I talked to him,” Mya said.

“I have more questions than answers,” Petor shook his head.

“Hah! And I got none of the answers!” Mya replied cheerfully.

Petor heard Valter snort.

“Aren’t we supposed to be like professionals?” Petor asked.

Valter gave him a look that  got across. ‘Are you fucking nuts?’.

“Fair,” Petor shrugged as the ran up the stairs.


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