Lance of Earth and Sky (The Chaos Knight Book Two) (26 page)

The
Luminous
's small scouting skiff was not the
Destiny
, but it was a fine little craft, trim and merry. Or it would be, if not for the weight of their task. Vidarian had insisted on going alone, insofar as he could. Far below on the water were the
Kadari Knife
and the
Sunray
, two ships that had, if he recalled, been particularly good at opposing imperial craft in the past. The two young men helmed the
Knife
while the
Sunray
belonged to the blonde captain; they'd been perfunctory but perfectly pleasant, and fortunately unsurprised, when Vidarian went to meet them on the north side of Rivenwake.

Other than the water escort, he'd gone alone, taking only Rai, and that because the wolf absolutely insisted on going. Now that he could fly, there was little keeping him in a place he didn't desire. Thalnarra had been a harder sell, but he had at length prevailed upon her with the urgency to protect and assist Altair's recovery.

The handling of the skiff took all of his attention, and became a kind of meditation, a rhythm of rope and beam. As he guided the little craft into the air he was able to lose himself for a few moments in the sounds of wind hitting sail, the scents of sun on canvas and wood varnish.

Vidarian's spirits rose even as the ship did, and the blue arc of the sky, limitless, washed away the heaviness in his heart one worry at a time. Thoughts fell like raindrops into a well: the stiff breeze was cold and getting colder; was a storm coming in? He missed Ariadel; her absence was a simple ache that never seemed to abate.

In the silence of their rising altitude, there was little to pull him from these gentle ruminations, and his eyes began to absently follow cloud patterns. They traced shapes automatically: a topsail, an eagle, a cedar tree.

Then a face, curling up in the cloud, a familiar sharp chin and all-white eyes.

Rai started barking, his tail wagging furiously.

“How are you doing that?” Vidarian called to the formation.

Not so loud!
the Starhunter said.
You never know who's listening.

It would take longer, and frustrate more, to argue with her than comply, and so Vidarian thought:
How are you doing that? Doesn't the air goddess resent you intruding in her territory?

Dowdy old things,
she clucked.
I haven't even seen Siane since you let me out. She might be ignoring me. Always was a bit of a drama queen.

A what?
Vidarian thought, confused and annoyed.

Never mind. Look, you've got to help me out here.
The cloud-face bit its lip, then swirled, losing cohesion.
Stupid…cloud!
She was pulling the surrounding cirrus blanket toward her “face,” and the clouds darkened as they drew inward, condensing.

Vidarian leaned out over the rail, concerned for the ships far below. What kind of storm was she capable of summoning?

The face in the clouds gritted its teeth, and webs of frost crackled out over the mist.
I can't work like this! I'll be back.

And then she was gone.

Three sharp notes sounded from below, a bosun's pipe from one of the ships. Rai whined, and the pipe sounded again, high and clear. Vidarian searched the sky, wondering what they were warning him of—

An imperial frigate cut through the mist, practically on top of them.

Rai started barking again, and Vidarian dove for the wheel, spinning it wildly to starboard to swing them away from the swift-approaching hull. Once they were out of the collision course, he leapt forward again and hauled on the spinnaker pole, spilling air from the skiff's little mainsheet and slowing their advance.

When he pulled the skiff around, sailors were shouting from the main deck of the frigate—marked
Starscape
—and two men in imperial regalia hailed him from the rail. Behind the ship were two smaller ones, also emerging from the mist: slender, battle-ready skyships with the marks of cannonfire and scorching fresh on their hulls.

The port wing-mast brushed the hull of the
Starscape
, and Vidarian cursed, turning and stabilizing the skiff again. Then he sat back, hauled Rai—still barking—back from the skiff's rail by his neck-ruff, and shouted a greeting up to the frigate.

“Good morrow, Captain,” the older of the two called down, first obscured by sunlight, then revealed. It was Admiral Allingworth. “I had hoped you might meet us here.”

“And I am grateful for your presence, Admiral,” Vidarian said, guiding the skiff up to eye level with the admiral. “Truly. Though disturbed that you were called away from the front.”

“We're sent to escort you back to Val Imris, Lord Tesseract,” the young man at the admiral's left hand said.

“I'm afraid that's not within my plans, sir…?” He offered the ‘sir’ only for peacemaking, but was shocked when the man replied:

“Lieutenant August Kaine. I—”

“
Lieutenant
?” Vidarian repeated the title incredulously before he could stop himself. The younger man's face clouded.

The admiral had more sense, and a bit more diplomacy. “He's assisting on behalf of the Alorean Import Company,” he cut in. Kaine looked displeased as his origin was revealed, but quickly schooled his expression. “They sent me with these ships to—see if this misunderstanding could be sorted out,” Allingworth said, glancing at “Lieutenant” Kaine. “I told them,” the admiral continued loudly, “that there must be some misunderstanding. There are some preposterous rumors, my boy—rumors that you've kidnapped the emperor!” He tried to laugh, but it was so forced that it died in his throat.

“We understand your strategy, Lord Tesseract,” Kaine called. “The Court is impressed, and—” he smiled, thinly, visible even at this distance, “once recovered from their shock, glad to witness your strength. There will be much need for leadership in the future, leadership to guide our people through dark times.”

“My loyalty is to the Alorean Emperor, and the imperial family!”

Kaine drew back, a slight motion, but his voice changed. “So you will not be returning with us?”

“I will not, Lieutenant.” At his answer, Rai bristled, and began to growl softly.

“Then perhaps what you require is a demonstration of
our
strength.” He turned. “Admiral Allingworth, open fire upon this vessel.”

“I certainly will not,” Allingworth said, his voice climbing in volume again. “And I advise you to remember your place, sir!”

Kaine's hand moved, drawing something from his waist sash, and light flared. Shock rippled through Vidarian along with the light—it was some kind of weapon!

And then Allingworth was tumbling from the
Starscape
, hurtling through the clouds, his side torn open and burned, mouth open and eyes already unseeing.

The admiral's body disappeared into the mist below them.

A terrible rage coursed through Vidarian—a thunder beneath his skin, a rattling in his chest, his claws sank into the wood of the skiff's deck—

He was leaping, wings outspread, two strong beats, and then he was tearing out the throat of the screaming human who had killed the admiral. Blood filled his mouth, hot and thick, and he bared his teeth, hissing.

Vidarian came back to himself with a gasp, falling backward in the skiff.

Rai was mantling over the body of Lieutenant Kaine, his back and tail stiff, claws extended. Sailors were shouting behind him, and advancing with drawn swords.

“Rai!” Vidarian roared, trying to catch the cat's attention. He reached out with his thoughts, clumsily—but Rai's mind was a cloud of rage, impenetrable. He only hissed again, crouching over his fallen prey.

The sailors closed in, an arc of blades, angry shouts spurring Rai to more growling and hissing.

Vidarian flung his elemental awareness outward, fire surging upward and spilling out of him, wild and uncontrolled. By sheer will he pulled the lash away from Rai, slicing it across the sailors. The water energy, strong and heavy where the fire was light, incandescent, rippled across the mist of the clouds around them, pulling water from the sky. It came drenching powerfully over the sailors, a torrent that disarmed several of them, clattering their swords to the deck—and soaked Rai, startling him out of his fury.

When he called Rai back this time, he flattened his ears but obeyed, leaping back to the skiff. The sailors might have lost some of their swords, but more of them now swarmed the deck, and command shouts called for cannon and muskets.

Vidarian dove for the wheel again, sweeping his hands across the elemental crystal that powered the craft and turning it until the light flickered out completely.

The skiff plummeted, and Vidarian threw one arm around Rai and the other around the mainmast, pressing himself to the floor. Cannonfire sounded overhead, and then from below, as the
Kadari Knife
and the
Sunray
answered the
Starscape
's volley. When they'd fallen as far as he dared, Vidarian touched the crystal again, restoring power, and threw his weight against the rail downhauls, flying open the wingsails. Another spin of the wheel tilted the craft further, but they evened out into an arc, drifting fast down toward the waiting ships below.

As soon as the skiff stabilized, Vidarian hauled himself to his feet against the mast, waving frantically to the
Knife
and the
Sunray
. “Hail the
Luminous
! Prepare to fight!”

T
he
Starscape
was massive and slow to turn, even as a skyship, being a stocky imperial titan and not one of the agile, fast frigates favored by pirates, like the
Viere d'Inar
. She was a long time coming around, long enough that the
Knife
and the
Sunray
loosed multiple volleys, tearing the wide wingsails and snapping the leading edge off of the great keel-mast that kept the ship balanced. The frigate might have them on crew and armament, but she was headless, likely in disarray.

Vidarian thought it was going quite well, and then the firepipes opened.

Shuttered doors like square gunports opened near the base of the hull, below where a sea-going ship's waterline would be, giving way to long metal tubes, also like cannon but narrower. From these slim pipes poured fountains of fire, raining down on the ships below.

The
Sunray
was too close, and fire cut across her nose. Bright as it was, it incandesced even more brightly to Vidarian's vision, burning against his elemental sight. It did not explode on contact, for which he thanked every goddess there was, but it seared and consumed, melting through the
Sunray
's deck like hot water through snow.

When imperial ships had fought the Qui off Isrinvale, they'd had cannonballs treated or forged with elemental fire energy inside them, weapons Thalnarra had called “fireshot.” This was a completely different kind of weapon, somehow a flowing liquid that contained condensed fire energy, energy that was angry and charged—fire that hungered.

Plumes of steam poured up from the seared hull of the
Sunray
as the liquid fire met the surface of the ocean. With a sickening lurch Vidarian realized that this meant it had eaten through the entire face of the ship. With that realization came confirmation, as the
Sunray
took on water and began to dip downward from the fore.

Men and women swarmed across the decks of both Sea Kingdom ships. The
Kadari Knife
was coming around, heeling hard to port in an attempt to bring its rail close enough to rescue leaping sailors abandoning the
Sunray
. The two young captains shouted encouragement to their crew, brandishing their swords at the looming
Starscape
high above them in a spectacular dearth of any self-preservation.

The streams of fire had stopped, but the
Starscape
was turning in an arc, readying itself for another deadly pass.

Vidarian turned to the controls of the little skiff, searching through the cryptic markers that were ancient indicators of the strength of the elemental power source. From the slow speed with which it had ascended, he extrapolated how many sailors it might hold—how many he might rescue from either ship. By his quick calculations, the answer was not nearly enough.

The
Starscape
had nearly made her turn, and the other two skyships were tipping into position to unleash their cannon on the Sea Kingdom ships. If either of them had fireshot, the
Knife
would be lucky to last minutes.

Vidarian looked up again, desperately gauging the distance between the sea ships and the belly of the
Starscape
. Then, before he could remind himself that it was completely insane, he thrust his entire awareness down into the ocean.

Cold shocked him first, followed by a rush of water energy, the electric tang of salt and the cataclysmic depth that only the open ocean could provide. Voices filled his mind, distant, indecipherable—thousands of voices echoing throughout the sea. A tiny part of him that remained Vidarian wondered who they were, and why he had never heard them before. He tried to call out to them, but his voice only echoed, swallowed up by wave and sea life.

Other parts of him darted away, and he began to lose his grip on himself and his consciousness. The bits that were Vidarian spilled away like grains of sand, dancing through the sea. He strained so hard after them that, far away, hanging in the sky, his body gasped, his chest compressing. And this pulled him back, helped him draw a line around the bits that were him and push away the seeming-infinite bits that were not.

When he had circled himself, he reached out to grip the ocean itself, and pulled.

Vidarian opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed and nearly fell to the deck in a rush of doubled vision and nausea. He closed his eyes again, gritted his teeth, and pulled harder, lifting the sea itself. He reached deep into the heart of the water, down as far as he could go, and then farther.

And the sea rose. It climbed into the sky like the top of a bell, curving upward and taking the sea ships with it.

The weight was enormous, stretching Vidarian to his limits. And at the heart of his being, his fire magic curled like a venomous snake, a parasitic worm, eating away at his spirit with flame and tooth now that he was consumed by water.

He continued to lift, blinking as sweat poured down his forehead and into his eyes. He hoped that the
Knife
and even the
Sunray
had enough sense to train their cannon on the imperial ships as Vidarian pulled them into range.

They did. Cannonfire sounded, plumes of black smoke climbed into the air; high above, wood shattered and sailors cried out as holes opened up on the
Starscape
and the other two ships.

The echo of the cannonfire pushed the Sea Kingdom ships against the upward-curving sea—and Vidarian lost his grip.

All at once the ocean slipped away from him, sliding through his “hands” like wet silk rope. The sea began to churn and roar as he accidentally set it free, and he flailed after it, but it was too late. Already resenting being held even for a moment, the water churned, and high above, storm clouds closed in over the battle.

They all sank back to the natural surface of the water, Vidarian exhausted beyond thought and falling to the deck of the skiff. The shadow of the
Starscape
passed over them, and Vidarian prepared to meet death.

As the sea ships tipped up and down in the water, the
Sunray
more than half sunk below the green waves, a bugle call sounded, high and far, from the sky to the south.

Gathering mist parted, and the white sails of the
Luminous
, spread like bird's wings, its keel-mast an elegant tail, swept toward them, one of the most welcome sights of Vidarian's life. Around the ship were Caladan and his handful of Sky Knights, an honor guard for Lirien. And behind them—

Behind the
Luminous
, its new wing-masts bright in the morning sunlight, supple steel and translucent airsilk, was, impossibly, the
Viere d'Inar
.

As the fast frigate of Vidarian's childhood drew closer—he could not see her without feeling a blow to his heart, for Ruby and for her mother before her, who would never see this strange and wonderful sight—the method of her flight revealed itself. Altair stood, legs braced and wings spread, atop the forecastle, winds of his own making spinning around him and lifting his feathers. In the center of the main deck, the tube and clockwork device Vidarian had seen earlier glowed like a great blue beacon, and all of the gryphon's attention was centered on it, keeping them aloft.

Even as it advanced, the
Viere
started to turn, bringing its wide body around to present its gunport-studded side to the
Starscape
. It opened fire, and the sound shattered the air, knocking Vidarian off his feet.

More holes opened up in the now-overmatched
Starscape
, and this time sailors spilled from them, plummeting toward the water. Though Altair was bound to the
Viere
, another gryphon leapt from the rail—Thalnarra—arrowing out over the water and then angling around an updraft, carrying herself high and fast. She proceeded to harry the
Starscape
's surviving crew, lashing out with lances of fire energy even as she swooped and dove, pulling men from the rigging and dropping them into the sea.

Relieved, Vidarian pointed the skiff toward the
Luminous
and laid on its power, sending them scudding through the air toward the relay ship.

Cannons tore the air as he sped for the
Luminous
, the
Viere
opening with all guns on the three ships. A great shadow slanted across the sea as the
Starscape
tilted to port in the sky, its wing-mast snapped in half on that side. The two other ships returned fire, but chaotically, thrown into disarray by the looming collapse of their flagship.

Vidarian had just pulled upon the
Luminous
, rising along her starboard hull, when the ripples hit him.

He dove to the deck, pulling Rai down with him. The hammer of water energy preceded by the rippling warning tore through the skiff's single mast, snapping it and slamming them into the hull of the
Luminous
. Rai screeched, leaping upward, throwing out his wings, and Vidarian was lifted off his feet, carried upward.

The skiff fell beneath them, cracking its keel as it bounced off of the larger ship, and Rai's wings were pumping, lifting them into the air. Panic had given him strength, but after two wingbeats he began to falter, not strong enough to carry Vidarian's weight. Despite the long fall that awaited, Vidarian prepared to push himself away from Rai, to save him from being pulled down with him.

Rai snarled, not with anger, but determination, hissing
Stay!
into Vidarian's mind, mimicking a command Vidarian had often given him, and renewed his desperate wingbeats, throwing himself—and Vidarian with him—at the
Luminous
. Even as his wings worked, he reached out with his forepaws, swiping at the wooden hull with claws extended. They sank into the wood, but Rai kept moving, clawing his way upward with Vidarian clinging to his neck.

Light poured into their eyes as they reached the top of the rail. Rai curled his paws around the beam, kicking furiously with his hind legs to push them the rest of the way. In a tumble they rolled onto the deck, and Vidarian pressed the sanded wood with his hands, breathing deep to calm his pounding heart. Rai stood over him, claws sunk into the deck as if he expected it to fall out from beneath them, his tail lashing. When Vidarian looked up, Rai lowered his head and licked Vidarian's cheek with a large sandpaper tongue. Vidarian reached up to bury his hand in the thick fur of the underside of the cat's neck.

A crash followed by shouts split the air, and Rai hissed again, crouching. Vidarian pushed himself to his feet and went to the rail, searching.

Another fist of wild water energy—seawater pulled up from the still-rolling ocean—had thundered into the
Viere d'Inar
, tearing a wide hole in its starboard wing-mast. The ship pitched to the side, and sailors yelled, sliding across the deck. Two of them rolled off the side, crying out in horror before their lifelines snapped taut, suspending them in the air.

Vidarian traced the residual water energy up into the air, expecting to see one of the imperial skyships. Instead, a seridi, only a silhouette against the gathering thunderheads, hovered there, her eyes unseeing as she turned and unleashed strike after strike of water energy.

Thalnarra landed beside them, breathing heavily with exertion. Patches of feathers were ragged, and blood flowed sluggishly from a shallow sword cut on her left flank. //
She must have been drawn by your trick with the waves,
// she said, gesturing with her beak to the seridi, then moving to the rail and looking down.

Below them, the
Viere
was angling unsteadily toward the water. She struck the sea with a boom that rippled the water's surface as far as the eye could see. Her lack of keel-mast now was an advantage as she took to the water and quickly reoriented.

Behind, from the aftcastle of the
Luminous
, Isri burst into flight, shedding her black cloak behind her as she took to the air. She flew directly toward the attacking seridi, reaching out with her hands as she flew.

The seridi turned toward her, crest raising with alarm. As the mad ones did, she seemed to see and not see her at the same time. It was clear that she saw
something
, but it was not Isri. Whatever she saw caused her to lift both hands and draw water from the sea so forcefully that it compressed Vidarian's chest even at this distance.

Isri continued hurtling toward her, even as another arm of water lifted itself from the sea. Sweat broke out over Vidarian's forehead as he watched, waiting. She was too far away, and her hold on the water too strong, for him to simply overpower her at this distance—he would have to wait until she released the water, and hope that he could deflect it in time.

When Isri saw the water, she turned in midair, and for a moment Vidarian hoped the strike would miss her entirely. But the other seridi tracked her with mad eyes, curving the water even as she released it.

Vidarian strained, reaching out to touch the flying water, hundreds of lengths away though it was. He almost touched it, and then his own fire sense roared up within him, even angrier than it had been before. It had become a living thing, almost its own consciousness, and snapped at him, eroding his grip.