Beastly (28 page)

“An amazingly astute observation, captain,” Polaris replied. The North Star drifted a foot above the deck, letting the stern rush closer. Drifting above the ship’s rear railing, she raised her palms to the pursuing demon. Her hands glistened with the sparkle of a diamond sea. She swiped a circle into the air.

One by one
stars fell from the sky. The streaking storm of vermillion slashes rained down from the heavens, battering the dracoliche, driving it off course. The mass of bones roared its chilling roar, gave a mighty thrash of its fleshless wings and darted higher into the cloud cover.

Poogs grabbed the Beast’s arm and dropped it onto the helm. “Hold this.” The pirate mantled the railing and hit the ground running.

“You can’t leave me to work this-- this-- thing!” The Beast locked his shoulders and elbows, afraid that his slightest movement would break the helm free of its mount. A million sickening feelings boiled in his belly.
“Poogs!”

The pirate paid the Beast no mind and rushed to a crank mounted on the main mast. The mechanism clicked as Poogs frantically worked the handle. Beneath the deck a fine vibration rumbled. The Reaper’s Song’s gunwale slid open. A row of cannons, seven strong, wheeled into position exposing the sheen of polished, tapered barrels. Heavy chains clicked
through a complex gear works. Thuds clunked as the heavy weapons locked into place.

“There, that should do it.” Poogs dripped with his usual bravado, quite proud of the modification he had made to the ship.

The last of the shooting stars streaked away, abandoning the night to silence. The barren landscape of grey hills and craggy fissures matured into a mountain range tinged of purple peaks. Their destination drew near.

The vessel lurched, threatening to spill her passengers overboard. Poogs hit the deck hard, banging his head on the cannon’s crank. The Beast fared better, saved by his quick reflexes. He shouted to Poogs. “Are you alright?”

The pirate rolled to his rump and rubbed a growing egg on his skull.
“Been better. Where did that infernal thing get off to?”

The winged horror surged from above, enraged by the sting of burning stars. The emerald flame of its unholy heart roiled over like a forge ready to explode.

“There!
Coming in fast!” The Beast shouted over the rushing winds, jabbing a claw at their stalker.

Poogs ran back to the crank, pulled the handle free and reset it as a lever.

“
It’s almost on top of us!” The Beast shouted.

Each mighty stroke of the dracoliche’s wings propelled it closer to the Liche Queen’s vengeance. It roared at the fleeing vessel, coating her in a
thin layer of frost. Muscles spasmed in the mortal bodies aboard; the foul breath burned at their skin. Still, Poogs hesitated.

“Not yet...” Poogs exhaled a plume of steady steam from between pursed lips. He forced time to slow in his head. He took aim...

The array of cannons fired and a staccato of booms rattled the ship’s bones. The cannons recoiled and then slid back into position, reloaded by a feeder of
Poogs’s own design. The projectiles slammed into their mark. Bones cracked and fractured debris exploded free. The monster roared a sour cocktail of agony and rage. It wobbled in flight for a moment, then resumed a fervid beeline.

The Beast roared his approval and pumped a fist at the successful volley. “Fire again!”

Polaris spoke softly, as though there were no danger at all.
“Just a moment. Captain, if you please?” A halting hand accompanied the simple request.

The North Star closed her eyes and recited the words to a nearly forgotten spell with a hushed tongue. The night time sky tore like cloth, allowing daybreak to pour through the breach. The world was suddenly ablaze in the amber hues of morning. The
dracoliche struggled against the repelling dawn like a fly caught in a spider’s web, thrashing violently and shielding its lifeless eyes.

“You may fire when ready, Captain.”

Poogs flashed a flawless porcelain smile and with a low bow threw the
lever. Ear-splitting thunder exploded from the Reaper’s Song’s guns. Barrels flashed with fire and then exhaled wisps of smoke.

Hot iron pounded the stunned
dracoliche, smashing away a forelimb and a portion of wing. The creature wailed a sinister howl, loosing a column of malachite shaded Blight from its maw. The blast struck the gun wale, melting the exposed tips of smoking cannons. The battered side of the ancient vessel would heal itself as it always did, but the cannons of the mortal realm were reduced to molten dead weight.

A cheer erupted on the Reaper’s Song.
“Nicely done, Captain.” Polaris said.

The dracoliche’s bones pulsed with the green blaze of its fireball heart. Slowly the damaged bones reformed, stretching broken ends into fresh pieces like new. The Beast could not believe the punishment the creature had taken.
To be able to regenerate altogether? How could such a foe be defeated? Any battle hardened warship or the mightiest of storm giants would surely have crumbled under the barrage.

Not so the
dracoliche.

A jet of malachite blasted through the ship’s sails, splitting a mast like a tree trunk. Poogs dove aside, narrowly dodging a mess of ruined rigging and boom. With a final thrash, the
dracoliche caught the Reaper’s Song, riving through the hand-carved stern. Man sized fragments were sheered free by the demon’s fangs and talons and tossed aside like match sticks.

Polaris slipped to safety in a stream of starlight just before the
dracoliche pounced. Her liquescent form misted next to the Beast and solidified. A dour mask shrouded her face. “What now?”

The ship rocked under the violent frenzy. Poogs struggled from underneath a pile of fallen sheet and rigging and staggered to the helm. The pirate bumped the Beast aside without a word, reclaiming the spoked wheel. He leaned forward onto the helm, issuing warning with a wink. “Hold on.”

The Beast clamped an iron grip on the railing and
threw an arm around Polaris’s waist. He nodded his readiness. Poogs returned the nod and then leaned hard into the spokes of his pride and joy. The Reaper’s Song pitched forward. Hard. Her grim figurehead laughed and aimed her blade at the mountains. Gravity seized Death’s vessel and she fell. The Beast’s stomach dropped, flipped over and threatened to evacuate. He looked to the back of the ship, hoping to be rid of the nightmare.

But the
dracoliche yet gnawed on the Reaper’s Song, chewing anything its vacant eyes could claim. A tail of jagged bones bludgeoned the ship’s hull, pummeling the masterful craft work into oblivion.

“It’s still back there,” the Beast shouted.

The
dracoliche reared its head, green fire rolling between its jaws.

The Beast cinched his grasp around Polaris. “It’s fir--”

Poogs threw the wheel sharply to the side. The Reaper’s Song corkscrewed over the speeding terrain, throwing the undead dragon free. Its breath sliced across the hull, rotting a gaping hole into the side. A
moment later, dark smoke plumed from the ghastly wound. Poogs righted the ship, sniffing at the acrid cloud. “That bastard must have nicked the powder below. Not good. Another hit...”

“There will not be another hit.” The Beast slipped the medallion over his head and pressed the fiery gem into Polaris’s hand. “Tell my
starshine that I am sorry for leaving her. Tell her that her
faday
loves her very much.”

Before the North Star could argue, the Beast mantled the rail and sprinted for the broken mast. He wrapped the thick column in a bear hug and snapped it free with a grunt. The splintered mast stood twice as tall as he and was banded by rings of black iron. The Beast hoped it would be enough.

He scrambled to the aft, wielding the splinter like a great lance. The
dracoliche roared its approval of the challenge and dove hellishly from the clouds, wings pinned like a bird of prey.

“Donovan!” Polaris cried.

The Beast did not hear her plea, did not turn,
did not stop running. His powerful legs coiled and he leapt from the ship with the makeshift spear readied overhead. Time slowed to a crawl. He soared at his foe like a warding angel, forever vigilant.

The
dracoliche bared its fangs, sensing the dangerous morsel ahead. It summoned the emerald fire from the pit of its evil heart. A last moment of harmonious silence passed. The demon’s jaws widened. The Beast raised his lance higher.

The Beast smashed the dracoliche’s head aside with a sweeping back hand,
then quickly grabbed hold of a collar bone. The dracoliche’s tail whipped up, slicing the Beast’s back as he struggled to maintain his hold. The Beast dug into a cracking rib and then hammered a blow into the monster’s spine. The dracoliche reeled from the strike, spiraling and thrashing in a wide corkscrew. The Beast dug in harder, raining down blow after blow. The dracoliche’s skull swiveled and fired an emerald jet.

The Beast ducked just in time. The
dracoliche wailed in agony at the stinging burn of its misfire. A skeletal wing disintegrated to nothing, shedding a trail of dust. Its flight teetered. The Beast knew he had his chance.

With two hands on the Reaper’s Song’s mast he drove the splintered weapon into the dracoliche’s side. The demon lurched as the spear pierced the pulsing orb of emerald fire in its breast. The blaze of Pandora’s gift flickered and died without a whimper. The Beast clung to the plummeting corpse. Together they plunged faster, veering to the forest covered mountains rushing to greet them. In the distance, a thick plume of smoke strangled the sky.
The ship...

The
dracoliche exploded against the landscape, throwing the Beast free. He careened threw the forest, smashing tree trunks into pulp. Something cracked beneath him and a shooting pain raced up his thigh and bored into his brain. He collided with a massive pine that tossed him to the ground like a penniless drunkard. His head swam in the pain and dizziness of the chaotic ride. Blackness swallowed his mind and the edges of his vision faded. He forced himself to hold on to his restored memory.

The smoke... the ship...

My name is Dono--

Lia...

Chapter 31

The Beast stirred. He rubbed at his stomach, hungry as usual. Thick copses of trees shrouded a sky glowing with the hint of dawn. From his back, he regarded the wall of timber. It was unfamiliar, foreign. The trees made him feel unwelcome.
His
grove always felt welcoming and sure. He could name all of the trees, in fact they said he had been the first to do so. These trees were nameless; not a single voice mustered among them.

He had to leave...

The Beast stood, wincing at a sharp pain gnawing his leg. He massaged the wounded limb, his paw coming away with no blood. The unseen wound throbbed nonetheless.
What had happened?

His first steps seared and the wounded leg threatened to collapse.
A few more moments of rest, perhaps
. The Beast braced his broad back against an equally broad tree and slid to the ground. He rubbed again at the injured limb, still struggling to fill in the blanks. Much appreciated warmth of amber-blond hues seeped through the snow blanketed trees. The sun’s kiss felt good on his face. He smiled at the glow, grateful that the king of stars hadn’t yet forsaken him.

A sniff of something bitter stole his solace. Wafts of blackness inked the morning’s delicate shine.
Smoke.
Memory hit him. The ship, the dracoliche.

Lia
.

The Beast clawed at the tree and pulled himself upright. He limped into the woods, heading for the smoke’s source. His pulse quickened. There was no way of knowing how badly the ship was damaged. Hopefully Poogs had set her down before the powder keg ignited...

He pushed the morbid thought aside along with a thick tangle of scratching briar. His wounded leg conspired evilly against him. Crawling pain swallowed it whole.

Soon, the trees thinned and the Beast found a great gouge gored into the land. It conjured instantly memories of the island’s crater. The Reaper’s Song slept on a nest of felled trees, smoke pouring from her side. Two of her masts were split in half and hung limply like broken branches. The Beast dragged his own broken limb, nearly tripping over what debris remained of the ship’s proud figurehead. The bust’s eyes stared sadly from the mud at her severed body yet mounted to the ship.

“Lia!” The Beast bellowed, “Lia, where are you?” He cleared a path through the rubble, heaving aside the ship’s broken bones. He sniffed the acrid cloud and climbed through the smoking breach in the hull.

The ship’s tight corridor was thick of swirling black smoke and the stench of
Poogs’s explosive powder. The Beast pushed a splintered shipping crate aside. The door to the captain’s quarters was a dozen steps ahead, swinging from a lone broken hinge.

“No...” The Beast barreled through the door. The blackness shrouded even his sharp vision. He hacked a breath and grasped his way through the room, inching forward until something soft bumped his knee.

The bed
.

“Lia!” The Beast scooped his arms down, retrieving an empty armful of soot covered linens.

Lia was gone.

Panic gripped his throat with icy fingers. He dropped to his knees, searching under the bed.
Nothing. The Beast flipped the bed over in a fit and then limped back outside.