The waters of the Ramsay Channel scintillated in the winter sun. Ian shielded his eyes as he took in the marina. The SPU delegation had discussed possible routes of return—including going by bone wyrm—but in the end had decided on the least conspicuous option.
Diana stared up at the yacht in wonder. “You actually got us a nice ship.”
Euryphel chuckled bitterly. “You wouldn’t believe the hoops I went through to hire its crew on such short notice.” Ian noticed the prince turn his way, grinning sheepishly.
“What?”
Euryphel scratched his head. “I might have made a few promises.”
Ian raised an eyebrow.
The first prince coughed. “We’ll discuss more once we’re out on the water. Alright, everyone, we don’t have time to waste.”
Ian followed the rest of the delegation onto the ship, a rather large yacht that looked like a playground for wealthy aristocrats. Boasting three levels and twenty cabins, everyone would have their own room for the overnight journey.
The captain of the ship greeted them on the main level. He wore a fitted navy-blue uniform and gave their collective a wave and an easy smile. “Welcome delegates from the SPU! We’re honored to have you aboard our vessel. I’m Del Rodgers and I’ll be your captain on this voyage.”
Captain Del proceeded to give them a tour of the vessel, showing off an elaborate cabaret on the lower level and a fully-stocked bar at the back of the ship on the main level. The last stop was the upper level, Captain Del showing each of them to a numbered room before bidding them a good evening.
After Shivin’i doled out their stored luggage, the group scattered. Ian returned to his room to stow his luggage. Before leaving, he donned a jacket to stave off the evening chill. Even though the Ramsay Channel was fairly temperate in the winter, the insulated SPU uniforms fell short as the evening breeze rolled in.
Ian considered what to do next. I’m on a boat in the middle of nowhere. I can either stay holed up in my room, doing nothing, or go downstairs and be social. He sighed. I suppose I should go down.
❖❖❖
Diana grabbed a bright-red drink from off the bar. “Why put a pool on a boat? It’s surrounded by water.”
“Are you planning to take a dip in the channel?” Shivin’i retorted. “It’s freezing.”
“Fine, I see your point.”
Ian leaned over against the side of the boat, his hands catching some of the sea spray. Night was fast approaching, the sun a solid circle of orange rippling across cotton clouds and whispering waves.
A voice called out from behind. “Skai’aren, if it’s not inconvenient, it’s time for the agreed-upon display.”
Ian turned to face a woman wearing a navy skirt and white polo, her head bowed respectfully.
Already? Ian tried to think of what he’d done in the past hour. I enjoyed the smell of the sea, contemplated the future...He looked down at his empty glass. Had a drink.
“Can I do it from here?”
“Sure. The crew wants to see a real dragon, not a wyrm, if possible.”
Ian scratched his head. “That’s fine, I guess.”
He drew his set of bones from the void storage and shaped them into the bone wyrm that would form the base of the dragon. Not enough bones to make wings, he realized, considering his options. The channel between Fassar and the SPU was deep, making it difficult to find bones and shells nearby, but Ian didn’t need very many to complete the construct.
After a few minutes of trawling, a skeletal dragon was flying over the ship, swooping through the air by pumping its wings.
“Why don’t you always use a dragon over a wyrm?” Diana asked between sips of her drink. “Looks cooler.”
“Dragon’s aren’t as fast and require more bones. Flapping is slower than levitating.”
Diana gave him a level look. “I thought you recognized the power of appearances.”
“A bone construct is going to evoke fear regardless,” Ian replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“I think a winged dragon is far more arresting, bony wings strung with scapula feathers blotting out the sky.”
Uh-huh. “I never realized you’d have such a strong opinion regarding my decemancy.”
“Whether I advocated for it initially or not, after the Fassari Summit, your name is going to be inseparable from the SPU.” Diana bit her red-stained lower lip. “I’d like for any association to be both positive...and intimidating.”
❖❖❖
At Euryphel’s behest, the delegation convened on the upper level.
“I hope everyone had some time to relax,” the first prince began, beaming. “Even though we’re still a day out from home, we can take this time to celebrate. Our success this year was a group effort. In particular, our politicians secured an important military IP export agreement.” The prince paused for a round of light applause. “But even more noteworthy is our elevated bracket ranking...and the overwhelming dominance of the Skai’aren!”
The gathered delegates clapped politely again.
“Before we begin any festivities, however, we’re going to need three people to take watch.”
Ian raised his hand to volunteer.
Euryphel gave him a disapproving stare. “No.”
“We’re more than capable of protecting the vessel without you,” Lanhui replied, shooting the proposition down.
Euryphel nodded his head toward Lanhui. “Guardian Lanhui, of course, will be one of the watchmen. I need two others; perhaps someone from the Congress?”
Nemir Kur’sha spoke up. “I can do it.”
“Ok; one more...” Euryphel murmured, thrumming his fingers on the railing. “I suppose I could do it.”
Shivin’i snorted. “You’ll be watching for danger regardless.”
Euryphel gave him a sidelong glance. “Any other volunteers? That aren’t the Skai’aren?”
“Me.”
All eyes then fell to Diana. She was leaning to the side, almost slouched, but her stoic expression radiated poise and arrogance.
Euryphel gave her the slightest of nods. “Very well.”
The rest of the delegation proceeded on to celebratory festivities, a purpose to which the yacht was expertly equipped to handle. Where before the crew had seemed a bit unsure of how to handle the quiet SPU delegation, they seemed much more comfortable treating them like a typical group of practitioners.
They all took care not to imbibe too extravagantly in the event that something befell the vessel; granted, the limits of impairment were less stringent when Life practitioners were involved, being able to speed metabolism of alcohol in a pinch. The two Life practitioners among the congressmen had reminded Ian of this fact seemingly every other minute.
And so it was that at the humble hour of 2 am, Ian fumbled with the door to his cabin and collapsed on the bed. He managed to sleep for all of two hours before being awoken by the seizing of the vessel.
Rough waves? he wondered groggily. His Death energy perception suggested something more nefarious: Euryphel, the sober squad, and several other delegates were on the deck of the ship scrambling around. Euryphel seemed to be orchestrating commands and directing people. Lanhui dove off the deck of the ship and reemerged aloft a torrent of seawater, keeping pace with the ship even as he circled its hull.
Ian groaned and sat up. Thankfully I don’t need a Life practitioner to get myself back into working order. Decemancy wasn’t the best tool for the job, but Ian didn’t have time to find one of the vivimancers.
Euryphel and the others probably didn’t want to bother me, he realized with a grimace. They’ve all been trying to give me a break. Ian thought the gesture was ridiculous: The main reason they’d be attacked in the first place was because of him. Moreover, as the strongest practitioner present, it was only logical that he be responsible for protecting everyone.
Every second Ian spent purging himself of the influence of alcohol felt like an eternity, the people on deck moving about like hummingbirds. With a frustrated growl, he ran out of the room while continuing to refresh his body, calling bones from discreet pockets to serve as armor.
“Euryphel!” Ian shouted, feet slamming down on the deck’s first level. “What’s happening?”
The first prince didn’t turn, his attention focused on the nebulous mist surrounding the ship. He spoke in clipped sentences, the wind carrying his message to Ian’s ear. “Assassins shot a beam of plasma to sink the ship. Tried to aim it at you, kill you; if I hadn’t been looking ahead, you’d be dead, the ship sunk.”
Ian’s skin broke out in goosebumps. In the end, their efforts to avoid notice were for naught.
“Is the ship damaged?” Ian asked.
“Lanhui used his water elementalism to quickly alter the trajectory of the yacht. The plasma beam never came, despite my initial foresight.”
“Have you been able to locate them based on what you saw initially?” Ian figured the prince must’ve discerned the general location that the plasma beam came from.
“All I know is that the beam came from the starboard. Shivin’i and Lanhui have both been using their Beginning affinities to try and locate the assassins but haven’t found them yet. The assassin team is possibly using a Dark practitioner to obscure its location. In the meantime, Shivin’i and Lanhui created a heavy mist throughout the surrounding area to hide our presence and buy time.”
“Well, now I’m awake. They won’t be able to kill me so easily with my shield in place,” Ian murmured quietly.
“You don’t want to be hit by this, Ian. It’s an amplified beam likely produced by at least two powerful practitioners. Be careful.”
Ian closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Selejo doesn’t play around. It was one thing to hear that people wanted him dead and another to be in the throes of an ongoing assassination attempt.
His voice was barely a whisper. “Eury...thank you. For protecting me.”
The prince’s vitality surged slightly, like a small hiccup.
“Help Shivin’i and Lanhui. I’ll facilitate communications and let you know when I see an attack incoming. From what I’ve seen so far, it’s likely they have a Regret practitioner among them, so you can imagine the mind games afoot.”
Ian nodded stiffly, then shot off the deck. The thickness of the mist cast the entire world in a shroud of gray, the water droplets in the air leaving blurry streaks across his vital vision. There were few souls out in the middle of the Ramsay Channel, but they shone like vibrant lanterns in the otherwise dark night sky, cutting through all the dimness of the mist.
Souls are attracted to the living, he thought to himself as he hovered in the air. Even if I can see little else, if I can find where the souls concentrate...I might be able to find the assassins.
Ian recognized the imperative of being stealthy. If the assassins had either a Life or Death practitioner among them—a likely assumption given that they were probably here to assassinate a decemancer—they’d be able to see him coming from a long distance, active use of Death energy showing like a beacon. Of course he’d also be able to see any enemy Life or Death users at a distance, but since the assassins had people with strong long-range firepower, they’d snipe him down before he could get close.
As he considered a strategy, the obscuring mist around him brought inspiration.
Ian fell like a rock into the channel. He dragged himself forward by his bone armor, only occasionally coming up for breaths. All the while he drew out the wyrm components and created the construct anew, pinning himself to the back of its piecemeal skull. His jowls rippled as the wyrm surged forward, but he ignored the discomfort, eyes fixed on the souls still-visible even through the film of the water’s surface.
The enemy can’t be too far, he thought.
Suddenly a form appeared to his right. Lanhui.
Ian surfaced and took a deep breath. Lanhui joined him and nodded, gesturing for them to continue forward.
“They should be in this direction,” the elementalist sputtered, icy water dripping down his face. “But how did you know? Are you following some kind of energy trail?”
While Lanhui didn’t necessarily like him, he didn’t think the man would do anything to betray him. Even so, souls were a touchy subject...constrained to the domain of necromancy. “I can see energy that suggests people are nearby.”
Lanhui narrowed his eyes, but didn’t question him. “Let’s keep going. If I notice anything off I’ll let you know. We’ll keep coming up for air every thirty seconds.”
“To communicate?”
“So I can tell you if you’re going to get vaporized,” Euryphel’s voice sounded in their ears. “Which you are if you stay there for too much longer. They’ve found you; move as quickly as you can.”
Ian and Lanhui shared a look of determination. The two dove into the water, Ian leading the way with his wyrm. When they surfaced again in thirty seconds, Euryphel’s voice blasted in their ears.
“Keep going! You haven’t lost them. Dive deep. Lanhui can protect you from the pressure.”
Ian and Lanhui sunk downward, Lanhui grabbing onto the wyrm and propelling them forward with his water elementalism. Ian could tell that Lanhui was doing something to control the flow of water around their faces, but Ian’s ears popped as the pressure steadily intensified. I’m not sure I can go much further.
Sensing Ian’s state, Lanhui swam to the front of the wyrm and grabbed the decemancer’s attention, gesturing for them to start heading back up.
Ian nodded; the further up they went, the less woozy he became. When they broke the surface, Lanhui spoke rapidly. “If you go too deep you’re going to die, even with me protecting us with my elementalism, even with all your Death energy protections. Understand?”
Ian nodded weakly, the chill of the channel fighting against the lukewarm insulation of his Death energy.
“You’re both safe for now. Good losing them,” Euryphel whispered over the wind.
Realizing that they could take a short breather, Ian asked the most immediately pressing question on his mind. “Is there any way to keep from freezing?”
Lanhui shook his head gravely. “Moon practitioners can control the chill of the water, but my elementalism sources from my Beginning affinity. I’m actually wearing a wetsuit. Even for those with Moon affinity, it’s standard issue—affinity can only go so far. Your Death energy seems to offer some protection; continue what you’re doing.”
Euryphel’s voice returned: “I said you’re safe for now; keep going.”
“How are you finding us?” Ian asked, frowning. He figured that if Euryphel could do it, the assassins could as well.
“He finds us through my oath of service,” Lanhui explained. “Skai’aren, do you still know which way to go?”
Another two souls came into view, forming a noticeable cluster. “Yep.”
Ian lowered them back down and launched forward, the worm’s lithe body spearing through the water in wide zigzags, ultimately headed for the clustering of souls. The next time they surfaced, Ian only barely brought them close enough to take a breath, whispering softly. “They’re very close. Can you discern where they might be?”
Lanhui scanned the horizon. “There’s something odd over there. That boulder isn’t real. See it?”
“Yes.”
“I bet they’re hiding behind it.”
“They know where you are again,” Euryphel exclaimed, his voice blasting into their ears. “Though this time it’s because you try to attack them first. You’ve found them.”
Ian and Lanhui grinned.
“Don’t stop moving. The two of you need to split up, though I want Lanhui to take the bone wyrm. Ian, stay almost fully submerged, save one ear; you’re going to need to trust me.”
Ian turned his head toward the guardian. “You think you can ride this by yourself?” The wyrm was powered by soul gems, so it should be able to go autonomously even outside of Ian’s range so long as Lanhui steered its skull.
Lanhui sighed and rubbed water from his eyes. “Not exactly born ready, but I’ve already ridden it this far.”
Ian got off the wyrm and Lanhui shimmied his way just behind its skull. After giving each other sharp nods, they ducked under water and headed in opposite directions toward the assassins’ false boulder.
Ian surfaced twenty seconds later, just barely lifting his head to take a breath. Euryphel didn’t say anything, so he continued to swim, dragging his body forward such that an ear stayed above water, a difficult feat given the sloshing of the waves.
Euryphel’s voice suddenly whispered in his ear. “Someone will come at you from above in ten seconds. Kill them.”
Considering that Ian was already riding an adrenaline high, the prince’s words didn’t have much physiological effect, but his mind began to go in circles.
Ian knew that this moment was an eventuality.
If what Achemiss said was true, he’d already bloodied his hands many times over. He knew this on an intellectual level. Even so...this would be the first time he’d be taking a life he considered real, where the death would be permanent.
Kill or be killed.
On the tenth measured breath after Euryphel’s warning, Ian’s eyes flashed wide and he froze the body of a person who’d managed to come inches from his neck, a wicked, crackling dagger poised to cut his throat from above. Without the prince’s warning, the suddenness of the attack would have ensured its success.
I’ll need to find how this person came so close to me without my sensing it.
Ian didn’t need to move to take the man’s life. The assassin fell limp, his energy siphoned into Ian’s hand. As the last vestige of vitality winked out, a bright auburn soul separated from the man and began to float away.
It was bizarre, but Ian felt as though he could feel the soul, unlike any of the others he’d seen before. Head throbbing with the rushing of blood, his entire body feeling somewhat faint and yet also invigorated, Ian held out a hand, his index finger pointing toward the soul’s center.
The soul began to pull backward as though compelled until it eventually bobbed above Ian’s palm. He stared at it in horror and fascination.
“Ian, what are you doing?” Euryphel asked.
Ian snapped to attention, realizing that he’d been spending too long in an exposed position. “What next?”
“Keep swimming. Tow the body below and behind you so we can inspect it later.”
He nodded, then dove back under water, trawling the corpse behind him along with the soul.
A minute later, Euryphel contacted him again. “Lanhui captured and killed one. The others are retreating. Their Regret practitioner is down, so you’ll be able to move much easier; can you apprehend the others for questioning?”
“You already know the answer.”
A soft chuckle brushed past Ian’s ear. “That, I do.”
Thx for the chapter!