Alain concentrated on preparing himself for action as the fog began opening up slightly in small patches. For a moment he could clearly see the quarterdeck of the Gray Lady not far from him, then it vanished in the white mist again. “I should go to the quarterdeck as we discussed.”
“Let’s change that plan. I’d rather you stay here, if you don’t mind,” Mari said.
Grateful that she had given him a reason not to leave her side, Alain nodded.
More of the sails overhead came into view, then disappeared. The mainsail flapped with a thunderous sound as it caught a freshening wind for a moment before drooping again. Straining his hearing, Alain heard oars splashing, then pausing, as the galleys searched for them.
“Hang on,” Bev warned. A large gap had opened in the fog on the Gray Lady’s starboard side. Moments later the shape of a galley loomed out of the mist at the far side of the open space, its banks of oars resting unmoving in the water. Crewmembers on the galley spotted the sailing ship, pointing and calling out to the officers on their own quarterdeck. The galley lay low to the water, long and lean with a single mast. A large raised platform at the stern held the ship’s wheel and another raised platform at the bow offered a fighting position for lightly armored soldiers carrying crossbows and wearing swords.
Alain heard commands being called on the galley. Now that its presence was known, the drummer keeping cadence for the oars stopped gently tapping and instead began pounding, the sound carrying clearly across the water. The oars rose in unison, an unexpectedly graceful sight as the banks of oars swept up and around to splash into the water as one. The galley jumped forward, curving around slightly to aim straight for the Gray Lady, which was still barely moving under the irregular winds flowing past.
Alain felt the power in this area, appalled by how weak it still was. “Mage Asha, Mage Dav, only one of us can hope to cast a spell at one time. I will try this first one, which will likely exhaust me.”
Asha drew her long Mage knife, holding the hilt in both hands before her and making a couple of swift practice cuts through the air as she serenely watched the Syndari galley draw closer.
“I cannot hope to create a strong fire spell,” Alain told Mari, “and the fog has made all surfaces wet.”
“Is there a weak point you can strike at?” Mari asked.
“A what?”
She had her rifle leveled toward the galley and kept her eyes on her target as she answered. “Some spot where applying a little force can produce big results. You’ve made holes in things. Like… like the mast on the galley. See it? What if part of it at the bottom went away?”
His eyes focused on the base of the galley’s mast. Alain concentrated on that spot, trying to block out the uproar around him as the Gray Lady’s sailors tried to trim her sails to catch the erratic winds and the Mechanics prepared to fire their weapons. He had to draw to himself the dregs of power available here to augment his own strength, because no Mage could change the world illusion without some outside power added to his or her own. As Alain gathered the power he recited to himself the lessons that every Mage learned, the beliefs that made their arts possible. The illusion which was the world showed him a galley with a tall mast, the sail on it furled as the galley drove forward on its oars. The illusion of a mast stood tall and straight, but that illusion could be changed. Overlay another illusion, one in which the mast had a break in it, a small gap not far above the deck. It required the belief that what he saw was an illusion, and the confidence that he could change that illusion for a brief period.
Alain felt the effort draining his strength but held his concentration as the galley swept down upon the Gray Lady. He almost lost his focus as Mari’s rifle roared next to him, followed by a series of other explosions as the other Mechanics fired. He barely heard Mechanic Alli calling to the others. “He’s a still a bit out of range for these old weapons. The rifling in their barrels is worn almost smooth. Let him get a little closer and then we’ll give him another volley!”
Alain heard but did not pay attention to the captain calling out commands, hardly noticed the Gray Lady slowly, slowly starting to move and turning as the freshening wind teased at her sails and her rudder bit into the water, saw but did not pause to think about Mari standing at the rail, her rifle still raised and ready. This spell needed everything he could give, and suddenly it was there, the power and his own strength draining as the world illusion changed for a moment.
A portion of the galley’s mast just above the deck rippled and most of the base vanished for several moments, leaving the mast supported only by a thin strip on one side. Not a total success, but enough. Unable to hold the mast, the remaining strip of wood buckled and snapped, the mast swinging against the restraints of the galley’s rigging. But those ropes weren’t strong enough to hold the mast’s full weight. The rigging broke with loud reports sounding like a Mechanic weapon firing, then the top of the mast toppled forward and down, its base crashing upon the deck and the upper portion with the sail striking the water with a mighty splash. The stricken mast served as an anchor on that side, jerking the galley back and over, away from the Gray Lady, as the galley’s oars flailed in confusion and cries of distress arose from the crew.
Alain fell forward, almost dropping to the deck. Mage Dav caught his arm, holding him up, then nodded with approval.
“You are skilled,” Mage Dav said. Then he looked down at where he held Alain’s arm, supporting him. “This is help,” he announced with the pride of someone who has discovered something new.
“Yes,” Alain agreed tiredly, worn out by his effort.
Moments later the slow progress of the Gray Lady finally took her back into a deeper area of fog, losing sight of the stricken galley. Mari turned to Alain, gazing at him anxiously. “Are you all right, my love?”
He nodded. “I am only exhausted. I cannot do more anytime soon.”
“But you took out a galley.”
The captain’s voice calling down from the quarterdeck dispelled that idea, though. “That one’s not finished. He’ll cut the mast free and come after us under oars again.”
Alain leaned against the mast, waving off Mage Dav’s aid. “Prepare yourself for the next attack. I did not sense Mage Niaro aboard that galley, but my focus was on my spell so he may have been there. Thank you for your help.”
“Help,” Mage Dav repeated. He nodded, then went to the rail to search the fog.
Mari made sure Alain was securely propped against the nearest mast, then rejoined the other Mechanics and Mages at the rail.
The sails of the Gray Lady banged overhead as more gusts of winds came and went. The ship drifted through another slightly open area, where visibility stretched for almost a bow shot in one direction. Rags of fog flew by, merging into another bank that once more reduced sight to less than the length of the ship. Looking up, Alain saw threads of blue sky appearing and disappearing as the fog began shredding above them. A wind steadied, billowing out the sails as the captain bellowed orders to trim them to take best advantage of the breeze.
The Gray Lady gathered speed, her clipper-rigged sails seizing the wind and her sleek hull sliding smoothly across the water. The fog parted again with shocking suddenness, leaving Alain staring at the shape of another Syndari galley cruising past in the opposite direction, its oars working steadily. Once again shouts of command could be heard on the galley, once again the drummer began pounding his deep cadence. The oars on one side paused before reversing, and those on the other side swept down hard forward, twisting the galley in a tight turn. At the same time a volley of crossbow bolts flew up from the forward platform of the galley, arcing through the sky toward the Gray Lady.