The helmsman had jumped and would drown in the sea. Auum turned from the captain’s body and took the bobbing wheel. He turned it hard to starboard, towards the central ship of the rear line, which was already burning under the force of Stein’s spell. He wedged the captain’s body under the wheel, locking the rudder.
He trotted over to where Ulysan knelt with Ollem. The youngster was both moving and talking.
‘How do you feel?’ asked Ulysan.
‘I’ll live,’ said Ollem, coughing. ‘The heat. . Thank you, Auum.’
‘You were lucky. We’ll get Stein to take a look at you. Can you still fight?’ asked Auum.
‘I can.’
‘Good,’ said Auum. ‘Fast hands, Ollem.’
‘Yes, my Arch.’
Auum stood. The fight on the ship was all but done. He could see Duele at the prow, looking for more targets, but the body of one TaiGethen lay on the deck. Auum cursed.
‘Let’s clear up and get overboard. Much to do and the day is waning.’
Capricious moved steadily between her two enemies, one of which was beset by TaiGethen. The other was unchallenged for now. The distance to her had been too great for the TaiGethen to risk. The skipper would come around for another pass.
The shaman casting was relentless, scouring the barrier for weaknesses. Black fire spat through with increasing regularity, and Drech’s voice, calm at the outset, was strained as he fought to keep his adepts together.
Stein could sense the barrier beginning to weaken in several places and the shamen could sense it too. Their fire was moving steadily towards the mana lacing the construct, and where the two forces met the Wytch Lord power was the greater.
‘Takaar, that barrier is going to fail.’
Takaar stared at him as if he’d just recommended suicide.
‘How little you know,’ he snapped. ‘There is nothing they can do to pierce it.’ He giggled into his hands and whispered to his other self, casting a sidelong glance at Stein, who clung resolutely to his temper.
‘They are picking at the mana strands, Takaar. You only have to look.’
‘We have them defended.’
‘You do not!’ spat Stein. ‘Look, damn you.’
Takaar drew himself up and advanced on Stein. ‘You forget yourself, human. I am Ta-’
‘Save it,’ said Stein and he turned away. ‘Drech! Look to your mana stitching!’
‘You will not undermine me!’ howled Takaar.
Drech had heard him, Stein was certain of it. He felt a change in the focus through the barrier. He rounded on Takaar, finding him but a pace away.
‘I’m trying to save your life. All our lives.’
‘I am the voice on this vessel,’ said Takaar, so furious his face was colouring and his whole body shook. ‘How dare you speak for me?’
Stein made to grab his collar, but Takaar moved impossibly fast. Stein felt his hand being swept aside and himself falling, registering that his legs had been taken from under him only when his backside struck the deck hard. Takaar pounced on him, knees either side of his chest, his hands around Stein’s throat. He was smiling, and Stein felt a chill throughout his body alongside the trembling beat of his heart.
‘Not just Il-Aryn but TaiGethen too,’ said Takaar, increasing the pressure on his throat. He smirked. ‘Silly human thinks to lay a hand on me.’
‘Takaar.’ Stein gulped. ‘Don’t. We need each other.’
‘I think that time has passed.’
Takaar’s hands gripped tighter. Stein had his hands on the elf’s wrists but Takaar was strong and his madness only made him stronger. Stein began to choke, praying Drech or someone could see what was happening. Nothing else was going to save him.
A scream rent the air. Black fire cascaded through a great tear in the barrier, which collapsed in on itself, dumping freezing water across the deck. Takaar’s head snapped round and he was gone as fast as he had struck. Stein sat up. The Il-Aryn were sprawled on the deck or stumbling around dazed. One had blood pouring from her ears and she screamed again, her voice taken up by others.
‘Get it back!’ roared Takaar from somewhere, his voice desperate and high. ‘Get! It! Back!’
‘Too late,’ murmured Stein.
Black fire lashed the ship from the fingertips of a dozen hands. Stein dived for the questionable sanctuary that was the base of the mainmast, shuddering at the thought that he’d seen all this before and it hadn’t ended well. Jagged like lightning, the fire bit into rigging, sail and timber. Fingers of magic tore at the hull, ripping into timbers and shattering them, tearing off great splinters and hurling them up into the sky.
Fire laced the deck, spitting holes and slicing through yards, sheets and stays. Above him sailcloth burned. Black streaks pounded into the great trunk of the mainmast. Stein felt it shudder and creak above him, a snapping noise sounded deep within it.
All around him elves were diving for whatever cover they could find. Il-Aryn, crew and TaiGethen alike fled, and for far too many it was hopeless. Javelins of hateful magic buried in chest, face and gut, throwing their victims around like dolls. He saw a TaiGethen pinioned to the rail, fire blazing from his eyes, his body jerking and smouldering before the power was done with him and he fell into the water below.
‘Got to do something,’ muttered Stein, though he knew a spell would draw their fire to him like moths.
He could hear the Wytch Lord magic smashing beneath him, tearing the ship apart. Capricious was heeled over now and the unmistakeable sound of rushing water added to the screams, the crackle of flames and the splintering of wood. From above flame rained down as the sails disintegrated. And, with a decisive crack, the mainmast broke and fell to port.
Stein hurried around the base, finding himself in the firing line.
‘Get overboard!’ someone shouted. ‘Abandon ship! Abandon ship.’
‘Not yet.’ Stein prepared quickly, his mind focused while his body prepared for the death strike of enemy fire that must surely come. ‘Have some of this!’
Stein stood, spread his hands as wide as he could and cast. Ice borne on a hurricane howled from his fingertips, over the heads of desperate and dying elves, across the sea and into the heart of the enemy vessel. Timbers, sails and faces blackened under the onslaught of the super-cooled storm. Frost rimed mast and spars. It gathered in waves across the deck. And it killed. The thought of that was so good Stein didn’t want it to stop.
Wesmen and their so recently triumphant shamen had their shouts of victory frozen in their throats. Their limbs seized, their hearts became frost and the blood in their veins was stilled in an instant. The black fire shut off but for one shaman in the stern, who turned his focus from the ship’s hull to the lone mage.
Stein saw it coming and dived aside. Dread magic spat across the deck where he’d been standing.
‘Whoa!’
He rolled and came to his feet, scrabbling to find a little more cover, though precious little was left. Waves were breaking over the starboard rail as the vessel heeled over. She wallowed, and the bodies of elves shifted in time with the ocean.
‘Time to go.’
Stein raced for the bow, pulling together a final casting on the run. It was difficult to concentrate. The shaman had him in his sights and the black fire was closing fast. Deck timbers split behind him. The ashes of sails floated about his head. Fire raged over the jib sail, which flapped glowing edges, spraying hot canvas across his vision.
Stein prayed he had enough of the casting together to make sense and dived over the bow rail. Wings of Shade sprouted from his shoulder blades, wisps at first but strengthening as he poured everything he had left into them. He powered into a climb, feeling his feet trace the wave tips before he spun into a full ascent, gaining height so quickly it stole his breath.
Well beyond the reach of Wytch Lord magic, Stein levelled and circled, making a lazy descent to survey the state of the fight. He tried to take in as much as he could, anything that might be of use to those who needed to know.