Housekeeping
Terry’s dreams return and so does trouble in a big way as the entire town of Walliscot is put in danger. Can he escape?
A Crow’s Nest
Terry had never actually considered how shipping worked in a world like the Everywhen, or anywhere else for that matter, so the next few days were an education. He found himself spending time around the Blowhard on the off chance they could leave early. Instead, he watched as Lydia arranged contracts and haggled for decent rates. He found himself admiring the woman. She knew her worth, the value of the crew and the ship, and what a fair deal was. Nothing she did ever seemed underhanded. Just shrewd. Terry’s honesty forced him to acknowledge he was attracted to the woman. He’d have to deal with that. Delores was waiting for him.
He saw plenty of Lydia in those days. Who he didn’t see was the man she called Captain Spalding. When pressed, Lydia admitted that he stayed below decks when serious business was being done, which Terry found odd. Between client meetings, Terry had to ask. He waited for her to relax by the railing before he broached the subject.
“So, uh, why’s the captain not involved in all this?”
Lydia looked up from the sea and smiled at him. He DID wish she wouldn’t do that so much. At least, not with her thoughts so easy to read.
“Because the ship is mine in all but name, Terry. Spalding, unfortunately, is the actual owner. I couldn’t afford my own ship and we reached a deal. He simply likes being called captain. Everyone else is bumped down a rank. It presents some challenges when dealing with clients, but the mystery of the captain gives him a dangerous reputation.”
“IS he dangerous?” Terry asked.
“Not in the way you think,” Lydia responded.
“I don’t understand.”
“You will when we hit open water,” she said with her usual grin.
Terry just shrugged and continued hoping for a swift departure.
It was the following night and Terry knew it was a dream, which concerned him. The Voice had said it wouldn’t come to him any more, but this had all the feelings of the dreams he’d known. This time, he stood on the deck of the Blowhard at sea with Delores, Lydia looking at them both with murder in her eyes. Terry turned to look around when a shape made of worked wood stepped out of the mast behind them. It was over seven feet tall and looked to be wearing a cloak. The nature of the material made it impossible for him to make out details.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Terry said, stepping away from the railing.
“Circumstances change, even for one such as myself.” The form approached and looked down at him. “It is beyond good to see you again, my child.”
“I won’t lie. Seeing you here again is a comfort after everything. I have to know, though. Did you know what would happen at the Castle?”
“I did,” the form said solemnly.
“And you told me to go anyway?”
“You are where you must be, child.”
Terry shook his head and looked at Delores. She was staring out over the sea and oblivious to everything he was doing since stepping out of the dream’s narrative. He turned his back to the Voice and watched the waters rush by as he spoke.
“I should be angry with you.”
“Perhaps. But I hope that in the future you will understand the reason things are happening.”
It walked up beside him and leaned on the railing as well. Terry gave it a glance and continued to watch the waves with the dream Delores. She leaned on the rail to his left, the Voice to his right. It was an odd situation and put him in an odd mood. The Voice seemed strangely casual.
“Any messages for me, or is this just a check in?” he asked.
“Oh yes. I carry a message. The enemy is approaching Walliscott. When you wake you must hurry. Reach the ship. Make them set sail. Do not become involved in a prolonged fight. Do not allow yourself to be left behind. If you remain to fight them, then everything I have worked for has been for nothing. I would not risk one that I love, but there are greater things at stake.”
Terry looked at the form as it leaned there. It had seldom been this open with him on the nature of why it was there.
“I’m going to meet you, aren’t I? I mean really meet you. In person.”
“I hope so. The future is still shrouded to me, but I hope to meet you at the end of your journey, Terry.”
Terry finally did something he’d thought of doing for years. He reached out and laid a hand on the Voice’s shoulder.
“Thank you. For everything.”
A wooden hand reached and touched his.
“Know that what I do is for you,” the Voice said.
Terry felt himself pulled back to the waking world.
He laid there for only a moment in his room at the Sailor’s Rest before leaping from the tiny bed and dressing hurriedly. Less than five minutes this time. Ernest would be proud. Terry had left most of the armor attached to his under armor this time. He snatched his belongings up and stepped out into the hall. The sun was just beginning to lighten the sky outside through the window. He pounded on Arthur’s door and heard the old man’s snoring stop. He did the same to Gella’s. He waited an agonizing moment before both doors opened, and he spoke before either of them had the chance to say anything.
“We’re in danger. Get your things. We HAVE to get to the ship.”
Arthur gave him a confused look. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to right now,” Terry said. “Just trust me and hurry.”
Terry didn’t wait for them. He hurried down the stairs and saw Master Rogers setting up chairs for the day. He grabbed the man by the arm.
“Don’t ask questions. Get everyone you can out of the inn and out of town quickly. I don’t know what’s about to happen but it’s not going to go well for Walliscot.”
The landlord gave Terry a confused look, but after a moment he nodded. Something in Terry’s face must have driven the danger home.
“Aye, if you say so, lad. I’ll be about it now.”
By the time Terry let the man go, his company had made it down stairs. He led them quickly to the stable yard and the stables themselves.
“Hi Terry!” Aloysius said, already awake. “What’re we doing?”
Ed stirred in his own stall as Arthur began saddling the misbegotten mount.
“Leaving. Now. Fast,” Terry said as Gella helped him saddle Al.
“Oooow. I thought something felt bad,” the horse said. Terry only stared for a moment before finishing with the straps.
“Mount up. We need speed.” Terry grabbed Gella by the waist and leaped into the saddle and suited his own words.
“Bloody Paladins,” Arthur growled as he got Ed in motion without any of his normal difficulty. As soon as they were in the streets, the screaming started.
Terry held himself low on Al’s back, trying to keep Gella covered and hopefully keep her from seeing what was coming. He thought he knew what he’d see when and if he looked back. He spared one glance to confirm it. He pulled Al to a stop in the town square, though. It was worse.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Gella asked, fear thick in her voice. Terry only had eyes for the scene behind him.
There were dozens of them. Dozens and dozens. Plague Doctors tearing through buildings and flooding back out into the streets. If people didn’t get out of the way, the Doctors grabbed them and they fell to disease. Some rotted where they stood. Other’s developed growths, making them collapse. Other’s just coughed and had to sit down to never rise again. It made Terry’s blood run cold. People were dying. Because of him.
Terry dismounted Al as Arthur pulled Ed to a halt beside him.
“Terrance, what are you doing?”
Terry turned to Al.
“Get her to the ship. Get all of them to the ship and make sure you all get on board.” He turned to the Tutor. “You get the ship moving. Tell them there’s no time to wait or they’re all dead.”
“What about you?” Aloysius asked, sounding worried.
Terry swallowed. His first instinct was to vow he’d find them, but it didn’t seem right any more. He didn’t like tossing vows around now.
“I promise, you won’t be leaving me behind, but I have to stop this. Now go.”
He wished he knew what about that made them all nod and simply take off in a gallop. They’d be ok, though. Now it was time. He had, well, he’d scarcely call it a plan. He had an idea. He needed to give his company a head start, then just hope it worked.
He reached into his coat and pulled out his sword, what he now knew was the Axis Mundi. The sword glowed in the early light just before dawn. He held it over his head and forced even more mana into the blade. Even the hilt began to glow with its three gems blazing through it all. He knew the only other time he’d done this was inside a kaiju made of vines. The light began to draw the attention of the Plague Doctors closest to him.
“HEY!” he shouted, and something in the mana surrounding him amplified his voice. It reverberated through the streets, doubling back on him and had the effect of stopping the Plague Doctors where they stood. The entire town fell silent. No one moved. The world seemed to hold its breath, but Terry felt SOMETHING moving. He didn’t think whatever it was moved in this world at all. That something seemed to lock into place. The world seemed to breath again. Terry was exactly where he was supposed to be.
More of the nightmare heads peaked from doors and windows. There were more than fifty that he could see just from where he stood. He lowered the sword. He felt bizarrely calm. He took the grip in both hands and spread his feet apart, bending his knees slightly. It was time.
“If you want the sword, then you’re welcome to try and take it.”
The flood of birdmen was immediate, and Terry began what Delores called his dance. He seldom had a reason to use actual sword technique, but he did so now with a level of satisfaction he’d seldom known. This felt right. He spun and leaped, making wide, sweeping blows that caused his blade to stretch. Where as before the staves would have turned his blade like they had previously, it now sliced through them, and their owners, like a fork through pie. Plague Doctors and the remains of Plague Doctors went flying with every stroke of his blade. Terry didn’t fight them as individuals. He fought them as one.
As the last of the wretched things fell, Terry thought he might have ended the threat right then and there, but then a street or two away he heard the call of a crow and more came running into the square. Terry decided he’d given Arthur and Gella more than enough time. He turned, and he ran. The Voice had told him not to become bogged down in a fight for a reason. He had no intention of finding out what that reason was.
After a few streets though, Terry slowed himself down. He had entirely too much mana in his system and he was moving entirely too fast for the monsters to keep up with him. He NEEDED to keep them on his trail and interested. If this was going to work, he needed them to know where he was. Fortunately for him, a group of ten were waiting for him ahead.
“Give us the sword and we will make it a quick death, boy,” one of the Plague Doctors said. This one had a red thing draped on its shoulders. Terry wondered if that was a form of rank with them. He didn’t bother answering the thing. He decided to use them as a beacon to light the way for the others to find him.
Terry held his sword up and the lead Doctor tilted its head in confusion. Terry closed his eyes and lightning fell among them. When he opened them again, there wasn’t anything alive in the street. The leader had been replaced with a stain and his troop were all chard remnants. He heard cawing somewhere and answering calls elsewhere, all converging on him. He took off at an easy trot.
He was changing. He could feel it. This was coming easier to him. He was still growing tired, but not nearly as much. He’d have to worry about it later.
By the time he reached the docks, the entire army was after him. Or was it a flock if they were bird people? He had no idea. He’d stopped for a brief engagement twice, just to clear his path and to give them time to keep up with him. Nothing showy, just swordplay.
The dock had emptied of ships. Arthur and Gella must have been screaming their heads off to alert everyone they could. If a ship was still in a slip, it was unmanned. Good enough. He ran down the dock to the slip that had held the Blowhard and saw it already a distance away. He ran down the pier to the very end and could just make out Gella waving like mad, Arthur and Al with her. He saw Lydia on the poop deck watching him. Even at this distance he could make out the soft glow of her tattoos.
Terry turned and the sight would have been disheartening if he hadn’t been hoping for it. The long, long pier was filled with Plague Doctors packed cheek to jowl. Possibly hundreds of them. Another one with the red shoulder draping led the way. The things still gave him the creeps with their jerky movements. It brought back a buried core memory that he now knew was the death of his mother. He took a deep breath and stood up straight. Fear could have him later.
“Can you swim, young man?” the leader of the Doctors asked. It sounded more used to speaking in human language than most.
“Yeah. But I don’t think I’m going to need to.”
The head snapping at an unnatural angle almost made him start. The thing would have dropped dead with a broken neck if it had been human.
“So you will face us all?” the beastman asked. “We know how magic weakens you, child. You will do well for a time, but you will falter. We will take the sword when you do. My people will tear you apart and feast on your insides.”
Terry swallowed. He could picture that in his mind’s eye. Why did he have to develop an imagination NOW of all times?
“I would spare you from this fate, child. Simply give us the sword, and you can walk free. You can go and find your love.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Terry said. “I appreciate the offer, but there’s no way I’m going to trust you.”
If Terry was going to do this thing, he had to do it now while they were all together and he could still possibly reach the ship.
“Then you offer me no alternatives. My brothers will enjoy your flavors.”
Terry turned his back on the horrible thing. It took more courage than he thought he’d ever had to show in his life to let that thing be behind him unseen. But he was the Errant Apprentice. He had to do stupid things all the time, and this WAS incredibly stupid.
He leaped. He put as much strength and speed into the leap as he could and he took flight. Once he was airborne, he twisted in the air to look back the way he’d come. He hoped that move hadn’t robbed him of momentum. He also hoped to God this worked.
He held his sword up, then swung it back down to point at the docks. Before the blade was done coming down, a massive bolt of lightning curved out of the clear sky and sped past him, making his hair stand on end.
The lightning struck the leader, then shot through the assembled masses as if they were lightning rods. From the front to the back, every one of them burst into flame, as did the entire pier. He saw several of the birdmen fall into the sea to put themselves out, but they never surfaced again. They didn’t seem to be able to swim. He watched bodies collapse and others try to run into the town, but they fell before they ran too far. Most of them had simply died where they stood. There was nothing left of the leader at all, nor most of them.
As he sailed backward and the pier dwindled, Terry marveled at what he’d done. It was like what had happened in Dans la Bouche, but this time he was still conscious. He felt exhausted though. That hadn’t changed, but he was better at this. He was beginning to frighten himself.
Terry realized he was starting to arc downward finally, and managed to whip himself back around to face the Blowhard. The ship had stopped moving, and he tried to make a graceful landing on the poop deck.
He absolutely failed to do so.
His legs immediately buckled from exhaustion and he found himself rolling and bouncing until he smashed into and through the railing on the front of the deck. He bounced two more times before hitting the mast with his back and blacking out.