At nightfall, we made our next move. A knock on our door came. Cindy stood there with Timothy. She invited herself in and strode around the apartment. Her hood was drawn over her eyes, as was Timothy’s. The boy’s cheeks were puffy… He’d been crying.
“You almost forgot something,” Cindy said.
“Doesn’t seem like he wants to come with.” Genevieve took another sip from the water pouch she carried.
Timothy took a deep breath, stepped forward, and fixed a determined gaze on the farthest wall. “The first cloaks left their homes to end the war. They lost in the end. If I go with you now and train extra hard, I might stop the same from happening again.”
While hugging herself, Cindy left but cast a glance over her shoulder. “Are you lot coming? The ship isn’t going to wait all night.”
I kneeled and took hold of Timothy’s right shoulder, careful not to slip his bag off. “I don’t know what it’s like to leave your parents. I don’t even know if mine are still alive. But I know what their absence feels like. The choice you made today will be with you for many years to come.”
His expression was serious while he processed what I said. His eyes narrowed further. We all flipped our hoods in place and slung our bags over our shoulders.
“Keep your hoods on. If there are spies, it is imperative they think I am the one who left for Volupto today. Seth, lead everyone to the harbor. I am going to walk.” She left.
The familiar strength swarmed my arms as the Ikulme opened a portal onto the one the place I’d been avoiding. We proceeded onto the cement platform, the moon high and the mist from the sea hung around us. Blurred golden circles marked where lanterns hid in the mist. Two ships, a large and a small, were docked. The mist faded and revealed clear skies over the ocean where enormous stone walls were built beyond the harbor. One giant gate closed the cape opening that would allow ships to sail to Lenost. The mist and the cry of a lone seagull made my heart beat in my throat. I was locked on one spot. I shook my head a few times to return my focus to the ships.
“I wager that the merchant ship with rough fixed sails is Cindy’s,” Sword whispered.
We scanned the harbor for anyone waiting or watching. There was no one except for the drunkards singing to the moon. Cindy’s silhouette appeared in what felt like a lifetime. I motioned for the others to follow. We fell in step behind her. On the side of the boat was its name painted high enough so the waves wouldn’t wash it off. Mistress Luck welcomed us as the crew made pulled the boarding plank in place.
“Be quick. It’s a day’s journey if the storms and the tides don’t veer you off course. Captain Veren is waiting on the ship.”
I grinned at her and was about to leave when she grabbed my arm.
She pulled me closer to whisper, “If you mess this up or screw with Brandon’s mind, boy, I will know.”
I pulled my arm away but leaned in. “And what would you do about it?” I paraded backward and smirked at her, standing there with her fists balled.
Two men pulled the ramp onto the deck the moment I boarded. The rowing started with many a crewman gripping a long oar. A man stumped among them, his back up right. The moonlight revealed a long beard. A soft whistle played over the harbor as the breeze drifted down from high walls. My damp brow reminding me that I needed to get a haircut. The breeze gave some cool relief on the bobbing vessel. They had to row this part to exit the cape.
Cindy watched from the docks. Only when the heavy hinges scraped away the rust did I turn to the giant stone gates. They were being pulled toward the walls with a loud churning that bellowed in the belly of the wall. The light from the stars and the moon was blocked out when the walls’ shadow fell across the Mistress Luck. I looked ahead at the dark waters. Some sailors carried lanterns while others had a quiet thought.
I was leaving Lenost, and with a rag-tag team, I was about to face a greater unknown. I steadied my breathing and held my chin up. The ship exited the cape. With the wall behind us, the light of the moon illuminated the deck once more. We entered the big open water, the sails were dropped, and the ship lurched as the wind propelled it to the Mainland, Yabasrana. A familiar hand grabbed mine. Timothy chewed on a fingernail. I followed his gaze and watched the island grow smaller.
“It’s okay to be scared,” I said.
He shook his head. “I don’t know how grown-ups do it but this is,” he hesitated, his darting gaze searched for words and ended with a sigh, “awful.”
“You’re not wrong,” I muttered. A squawk above whipped my gaze skyward.
Hawk swooped down, changed into the form of a boy, then ran to me. “Seth, the Library sends you off with the Maker’s blessing.”
“Thanks, Hawk.” I’d avoided this encounter thus far.
I took the book he held out to me. When I flicked through the pages, they were blank.
“What is this?” I snapped the book shut and offered it to the angel, who stared at Timothy.
“A book that was entrusted to me for safekeeping. You will know to whom you should give it when the time is right.” He turned to leave.
I called after him, “Hawk, thanks for everything.”
He didn’t show emotion but blinked a few times and bowed his head at me before taking off. I swallowed a lump in my throat. He’d return to his post at the Library and relative safety. I watched while the beat of his wings continued on into a distant shadow, then into nothing.
“Goodbye, Hawk,” I whispered.
Timothy took hold of the starboard beam and leaned against it, doing a sort of push up. “You like him a lot.”
“He was like the dad I never had. He cleaned and fed me and clothed me when I didn’t have the strength to do so. I might never see him again.”
The boy hugged me.
I smiled at the horizon and the stars above us. “What have we gotten ourselves into, little man?” I ruffled his hair when he shrugged.
“Now that’s not something you see every day.” A hoarse voice came from behind me.
I faced the man that was walking amongst the men who were now putting the oars away. He stepped forward and extended a hand to me.
“The name’s Captain Veren. Welcome aboard the Mistress Luck. I understand you are taking the trip back instead of Cindy?” He led me and Timothy to a lantern where Genevieve and Sword were chatting. With a swift motion of his hand, Captain Veren grabbed the lantern and held it up, revealing his deep blue eyes that were almost green in the warm light.
“Best you lot follow me to your quarters. You’ll be sleeping with the crew on this voyage. I’ve been up some way, traveled to the beaches of the Canyon Valley and the Mountain of Fiero even.” His eyes became unfocused, and he peered past me at the dark waters. “Dealt with monsters and demons before. They are good for trade. Better not to run into them as an enemy.” He shook his head as he started toward a door. It led down to a landing from which I could look over the rail to the lower level.
“Just cargo holds down there. Nothing you need to worry about. You’re here at the back of the ship… The aft for you children of the land. If you are going to be sailing on the Mistress Luck, you better get to know her innards by name.” He winked at Timothy and coughed a few times. We continued onward to a room that was wide but limited in height. Timothy got the hammock above mine, and we placed our bags at our sleeping area.
“Children are restless sleepers and often tumble off during the night.” The captain chuckled. ”You’ll act like the cushion to catch him and break his descend.”
I grimaced, anticipating a night of poor sleep. “Wouldn’t falling from a shorter height be better for the boy?”
The captain flicked the toothpick with his tongue and pinched it between his lips. “The shock of the fall might give him some backbone. “Grub will be ready in a while. Get settled, and make your way to the deck.”
###
I sat with Timothy in the cabin with our legs crossed while we focused on the Alhalma Anarta. In my mind’s eye, I could see the unseen world that lived parallel with ours. Timothy was standing in it as well, watching along with me. It was foggy, dark and gray in whichever direction I checked to see if we were safe. There was no demon nearby, but the Alhalma was a gloomy place. The fog attacked and scratched at our knees where we stood in it. A hollow shuffling of feet and hands rubbing on the seam of Timothy’s shirt made me focus on him. His gaze were darting around, searching for something in the distance. A sound in the physical pulled us back. Captain Veren hovered in the doorway, his eyes wide and out of breath. “Follow me.”
I jumped up and trailed him to the upper deck. Off in the distance were five ships steadily making their way toward us.
“Have they spotted us yet?” I asked, stumbling to the railing to grip it.
He cleared his throat. “No.” He took off his hat. “Please, Traveler, my men and I would rather fall on our blades before we’re raped, eaten, and flayed by demons.”
I crossed my arms and strode onto the main deck. “Be at ease, my good man.”
Sketches of demons with wings came to mind. My heart swelled in my chest with each beat. Maybe they should be worried.
The captain’s toothpick quivered on his lower lip. I peered at the horizon. The sun was barely up, and in the darkness, our boat was invisible. Any minute now, the morning sunlight would unveil us.
“What are we going to do?” The man’s gaze did not leave the approaching border of sunlight and the fading of the last shadows of the night.
I took a deep breath and readied myself. “Nothing. Stay the course. Trust me.”
My Ikulme flowed through my fingertips, to fill the surrounding space, blowing away in small pulses the dust on the floor. My haunting drew closer. I pushed my Ikulme more than I dared. Mist thickened around us, swallowing the ship. I focused the Ikulme in place. The whispering wind came from behind me, but I couldn’t tell if it was the Alhalma or the physical wind that reached me.
“Seth,” the chill of my haunting’s voice raised the hair on my arms. I almost lost the grip on the mist but I ignored the damn thing. My shallow breathing with the haunting’s growing presence became my only concern.
“Great, now we can’t see them either.” The captain held onto the ship’s wheel.
“Keep going straight. They will avoid the mist.” I hoped I was right.
“How do you know?” The captain turned the wheel. The air around us became thicker.
Most ships avoided the fog because it obscured the stars. I hoped the demons were the same. A patter of footsteps echoed around the deck. Timothy jogged sluggishly through the fog, waving it away.
“Shh,” is all I got out while the fog changed from a dark gray mist to orange. The sunbeams broke through at some parts, only to be pushed back by the wind.
“They will know something is strange if they see the fog during the day,” another crew member said to my right.
“Lower your anchor.” I gritted my teeth.
“We will be caught by the tides and pulled apart,” the crew member snapped.
I wasn’t sure what to do next. Sword and Genevieve appeared on deck and marched over to me. They stood ready, the same way they did when we trained.
“Make them think this is the Alhalma ,” Genevieve said from the left.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“We are not used to the unseen world. They are. The familiar presence of fog and overwhelming energy should trick them into leaving us alone.” She searched the mist for any movement.
I searched around me for any sign of my haunting. Closer than before, it stared at me from behind the captain. Its empty eyes fixated on me. My stomach churned as it slowly moved past the captain and to the stairs that led to the deck.
“Sword.”
He came over to me.
I swallowed hard and shifted my stance. “I’m going to need you to hold me in place, and no matter what happens,” I glanced back at the haunting gliding toward me, “do not let go of me.”
Sword’s grip locked onto me. Timothy took a few steps back, rubbing his hands against his thighs. He scanned the deck then rested his gaze on the haunting.
“Don’t try this on your own.” The world around me whitened as something grew over my eyes. The Alhalma covered the deck. The light gray fog was neither good or evil.
In the distance, the growing echo of cackles and screams announced the arriving demons. I connected with my Ikulme . With a deep breath, I urged it to thicken and push out the sunlight. The fog had a blackened shadow that crept near, alive with sporadic tendrils reaching out to where I knelt. Light gray fog fought against black with what looked like the waves on a beach. My Ikulme pulsated out of my clenched fist into the fog. A sharp pain cut into my abdomen searing through my body. My mouth opened, and my throat tightened. Sword cupped my mouth, muffling my scream. Ringing in my ears drowned out all voices as the pain dug into my stomach. The haunting’s snarl was inches from my face. I closed my eyes while it sunk its hand deeper into my innards.
“What are you made of, Seth?” it whispered in my voice.
I focused on the fog again and willed it through my fingertips to spread wide. I kept the cluster around our ship thick. The demons’ laughter grew closer, and the pain inside of me intensified, lurching my stomach. The hand borrowed into my intestines. With another scream, I contorted with pain.
Desperate, I shifted my eyes back to the physical. Genevieve huddled over me. I had a cloth of sorts stuck in my mouth. Sword pinned me while Genevieve searched my body. I’d been stripped down to my undergarments. The wound continued to burn and spread. I calmed my Ikulme, holding the illusion of fog around the ship. I counted my breaths while the pain subsided. Genevieve grabbed the side of my stomach, pulling and searching for the invisible assailant. A distance off, Timothy cowered against the deck’s mainmast, with his hand over his mouth. My body on the mend, I eyed Sword, who removed the cloth.
“What in the Artukilmo is going on, Seth?” Sword whispered.
I stared at my wound bubbling with blood. The torn skin closed as the gap became smaller.
“Who… Who did this to you?” Genevieve asked, tracing the older healed wounds on my body.
This was the reason I never bathed with Sword or Timothy, the reason I never wanted them to see me without a shirt, let alone naked. I was about to respond when an unearthly cacophony of shrieking laughter stopped me. I turned, waiting for their ships to cast a shadow over us. The fog blackened. I glared at Genevieve, whose eyes widened with fear.
“Kill them,” a demon cackled from nearby.
“Rape them,” wailed another farther off.
Sword let go of me and pulled his blade. I cupped his blade, pushing it down, and he waited. The maniacal laughter continued. The fog roiled and reacted to the demons as their ships passed us.
“Lenost. Lenost. Kill the children. Eat the babies.” The chant grew distant.
If they noticed this vessel, they would make us the appetizer. I wasn’t strong enough to face them alone, not like this. We were the prey. We waited until the last black fog faded to gray. A stillness lingered, one where the wind whispered to the men of their narrow escape. I groaned with my insides itching from the healing process. Sword and Genevieve stared at the blood on their shivering hands. Timothy started toward me, his lower lip quivering, and his eyes wide. The men processed what they saw. Some sat alone with silent tears. The wind carried the demons laughter and screams, reminding the crewmen that they were lucky.
“What was that?” Sword was the first to speak.
With a quick breath in, I allowed my Ikulme in the fog to enter my body and bring healing faster. The haunting readied itself, its arm lifted on high. The empty eyes held my own before I rolled to the side when it struck. The deck’s wooden planks cracked, the sound cutting through the eerie whistling. I checked that the wound had knitted itself before I cut off my power. The fog dissipated, cleared the area and revealed the demon ships dotting the horizon.
“That, my dear human friends,…were demons and the way they work in the Alhalma. They are not just beings, but they bring their intent to the atmosphere. The fog took the form of horrors.” I glared at the cracked wooden deck. “That’s a bit more complicated.”
Genevieve crossed her arms. “We have time.”
I held up a finger and crossed to a shivering Timothy. For him, it must have been double as bad, being more sensitive to the Alhalma. His eyes were enormous. I drew closer, and he started to cry.
“Yeah, they suck.” I pulled him into a hug. “Let me get dressed,” I gestured to my bloodied and torn clothes in a pile, “then we can talk,” I said to the two warriors waiting for my explanation.
I gathered my clothes and took Timothy down to where we’d left our bags. He ran to my hammock and climbed into it, drawing a thin blanket over him. For a moment, he waited as I dressed before pushing his head out.
“I’m sorry I got scared,” he whispered.
I ruffled his hair a bit. “I was scared too, Timothy.” I sat where the bags were stacked to search for a clean tunic.
“What was happening?” he asked, reaching out to touch a wound that traveled up my arm but retracted his hand, instead. He seemed hopeless, studying my fresh scar over my stomach.
“These marks?” I asked.
He tried again and trailed a gentle finger along the healed wound. “What happened?” His eyes grew big and questioning.
“One particular demon. He would hurt me in so many ways before healing the wounds, just so he could do it over again.” I smothered a shudder at the memory of his serpent voice when he laughed during every session.
After I put on my tunic Timothy’s brow deepened, and his lips thinned. His green gaze was frozen ahead of him.
“What are you doing?” I probed the boy for his thoughts.
“If they hurt you like that as a kid… They won’t stop. If they won’t stop, that means I have to be madder at them than they are scary.” His gaze darted about. “I’m going to kill every one of them.”
“Woah there, big man, killing demons isn’t that simple. The cloaks kill them because they are trained to do so.”
His eyes bolstered with determination. “I don’t want to kill them like a cloak. I want to kill them like you do.”