The War of the Masters

Raiden had no trouble talking to girls—except when it came to Keira. For some reason the beautiful auburn-haired elf always left him speechless, even when he knew ahead of time what he wanted to say.

“So, um . . . I heard you were looking for me,” he said, his voice cracking in the middle.

Keira looked a bit startled. “I guess so. I was . . .” she paused to swallow. “I was wondering how you’re doing, is all.”

“Oh, I’m good.” Raiden nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “I feel really comfortable on this ship. It’s, uh, sturdy—you know—well-built. So we should be safe on it.”

Even as the words left his mouth Raiden knew just how stupid he sounded.

Keira looked back and forth. “Yeah, that’s good to hear.”

Raiden wanted to slap his hand against his forehead.

“Uh, so how are you doing?”

Keira tapped a discarded rope with her boot. “I’m good.”

“Good. So . . . did you know you are the first of your kind I’ve ever met?”

Keira cleared her throat. “My kind?”

“Yes, you know—elf.”

Keira raised an eyebrow.

Anxiety spread in the pit of Raiden’s stomach. He spoke quickly to try and fix the hole he was digging. “Not that I have anything against elves. In fact I’m a fan.”

“You’re a fan of elves?”

“No, not like that . . . Er . . . I mean yes . . . maybe,” Raiden paused and looked at her. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

“I see . . . Thank you for being a fan . . .” Keira murmured. “I think.”

Raiden breathed a heavy sigh.

Good job, Raiden. So far you have informed her that the ship is sturdy and you’re a fan of her species.

Raiden reluctantly looked at Keira, and was surprised to see a faint grin forming across her lips. A ray of hope shot through him and he opened his mouth to say something. But before he could make a bigger fool of himself, a gray fog enveloped the ship.

That’s strange. It was clear only a moment ago.

Cyrus and Terra must have noticed it as well, because he saw them running toward the Faithful’s bow.

“Come on,” he said to Keira. “Let’s check it out.”

Reaching the front of the ship, Raiden heard Niadus calling out to Cyrus’s father. Kendal was standing up on the mast, trying to peer through the fog and see what was coming.

“Let me see if I can help,” Raiden said.

Channeling his power, he formed a vibrant purple ball of energy in his hand, then held it out as far in front of him as he could. The violet light radiating off the sphere gave the fog an eerie cast, but it offered them an extra ten feet of visibility.

“We’ve got more downed ships on either side of us,” Kendal yelled. “Keep the course straight and we should sail right between them.”

Niadus kept the helm steady as Keira, Terra, and Cyrus approached.

“What’s going on? Where did all this mist come from?” Keira asked, voicing the question they were all thinking.

“I’ve seen this once before,” Niadus answered grimly. “Just before we saw Dameon’s ship.”

“Is this where he took your daughter?”

“Yes.” There was no mistaking the bile in his tone; Niadus was going to make Dameon pay if the opportunity arose.

“How did Dameon take your daughter?” Cyrus asked.

Niadus took a deep breath. “I guess I should start from the beginning. I am a councilor of the Atlanteans, helping to preside over the vast cities sprawling the bottom of the ocean. A week ago, Dameon visited our kingdom. Rarely do we have outside guests, but he had found a way to temporarily grow gills, enabling him to reach us. Dameon claimed he wanted to learn more about our people for a book he was writing. He was charismatic; everyone seemed to like him, so we accepted him with open arms.

“But soon, my people started acting differently. Anywhere Dameon went, they would follow blindly. An emergency meeting was held, but the other councilors refused to listen to my warnings.”

Niadus sighed. “I decided to confront Dameon personally about what was happening. While I was on my way to his quarters, an alarm broke out, alerting the entire city that someone had been attacked. I raced toward the source of the distress, my stomach turning when I saw that it had come from my daughter’s room. Laurel’s door had been broken open and her bodyguard lay bleeding on the floor.

“I held the dying man in my arms—with his last words he told me Dameon was responsible. I swam to the surface in time to see his vessel disappearing into the fog.”

Niadus paused momentarily, choking back a sob. Terra reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I would have stormed his ship with our soldiers, but too many believed he was not the one responsible. When I asked for support, none was given. I could not risk boarding the ship by myself and failing; my daughter’s life is far too precious.” He looked up at Cyrus. “That is why I came to you. I have heard of your growing reputation as warriors, and thought you might help.”

Raiden caught Cyrus stealing a peek at the Luduan.

Smart.

The ferret-like creature remained still, indicating that he was telling the truth. Cyrus set his jaw and turned back to the merman.

“Dameon has done the same thing to other cities as well. Niadus, you get us to his ship, and we will do everything within our power to rescue your daughter.”

The merman smiled wearily. “I cannot thank you enough.”

“No need. Is there anything else you can tell us about Dameon’s ship?”

Niadus paused, then said, “His ship . . . he calls his ship the New Chapter.”

“Any reason why?”

“I don’t know.”

Still peering through the dense fog, Raiden asked, “What’s his vessel look like?”

“You’ll know it when you see it,” Niadus muttered.

Raiden didn’t know what to make of that. He hadn’t seen a lot of ships but the ones he had were easily distinguishable.

An eerie silence fell over the Faithful as they sailed deeper into the fog. Corpses and loose debris floated adrift in the calm waters. The fog thickened, cutting their field of vision to a mere twenty-five feet.

Then, far off in the distance, he heard the faint sound of a flute playing. The melody was strangely haunting, seeming to cut deeply into his curiosity and fear. Raiden felt an uncontrollable urge to draw closer to the music, while at the same time he was terrified as to who—or what—might be at the other end.

A cold shiver tingled across his spine.

The door to the lower decks opened and Madrina came forth, drawn by the flute’s inexplicable music. Without a word she joined the others, gazing out upon the devastated ships drifting past them. Lightning split the sky, forking across the rapidly darkening clouds. Raiden heard a peal of thunder, and the thin droplets of rain turned into a steady downpour.

None of this is natural, he thought. Whatever is out there is tampering with the environment.

And we’re heading right for it.

“Here,” Cyrus said, popping the cork off another water barrel and handing two to Terra.

Using them to plug her ears, the Princess heard the hypnotic melody fade to a barely noticeable level, clearing her judgment. Cyrus repeated the pattern with each of the crew until everyone had a set of ear plugs to battle the entrancing song.

Terra wasn’t sure what to make of the flute or the strange tempest brewing above them. Reaching out with her mind, she searched for anyone in the vicinity. But the same gray fog engulfing the ship seemed to cloud her telepathy as well. Only an eerie silence answered her mental call.

“Niadus,” Terra called, speaking loudly enough so the others could hear her over their ear plugs. “Do you know anything about the music? Is it some sort of power that Dameon wields?”

Niadus shrugged. “I wish I could say for sure, but I honestly don’t know.”

A dark silhouette began to take shape within the fog, but Terra couldn’t make out what it was. One thing was certain, though. It was big.

Really big.

Terra gasped as the Faithful drew closer to the silhouette. It was an enormous ship, easily five times the size of theirs. Mossy bones of various creatures hung across the side of the vessel like decorations. The ship itself was a charcoal color, with no flag at the helm. Terra couldn’t see a single person aboard the gargantuan vessel. It was as if they had stumbled upon a ghost ship—unmanned and forgotten.

Another flash of lightning streaked across the dark clouds. Thunder crackled in response.

“That’s the New Chapter,” Niadus declared. “My daughter has to be somewhere onboard.”

“Drop anchor!” Kendal shouted. Cyrus moved to the bow and lowered the Faithful’s anchor into the water.

“Who’s going to board the vessel?” Keira asked.

Terra’s eyes darted to Lucky. She had expected the Leprechaun to step forward with his usual gusto, but for the first time she saw something different on his face: Apprehension. The strange ship had spooked even him.

“I’m going for sure,” Niadus proclaimed.

“Me, too,” Keira added.

“And me,” said Cyrus.

Terra swallowed and said, “Count me in,” but her voice was drowned out by a cacophonous peal of thunder. Once it died down she repeated her statement.

“I’m going as well,” Raiden added.

T’Saunté roared his answer but Terra shook her head.

“No, T’Saunté. We need you to stay behind and protect the others should the worst happen.”

The dragon gave the closest thing he could to a sigh, but she knew he’d respect her wishes.

“Then it’s settled,” Niadus said. “The five of us will go aboard.”

Raiden took out his grappling hook and attached it to the towering vessel. While he was securing it to the Faithful, Terra darted into the hold and grabbed a kitchen knife from one of the drawers. Normally she wasn’t armed, but with her powers not working, she wanted to have a weapon just in case.

The two ships stayed still in the water; apparently the massive vessel had dropped anchor as well. Taking a deep breath, Raiden began to climb slowly up the rope. Terra watched nervously as he neared the ghastly ship. Seizing the side railing, Raiden hauled himself onto the New Chapter, took a look around, then waved the all clear.

Niadus went next, followed by Keira, Cyrus, and finally Terra. The rope was cold and slick from the rain, sending a chill down her spine. Hanging upside down, Terra wrapped her legs around the rope and began to climb. Halfway across she glanced at the churning waters below her and gulped. Bit by bit she made her way up the rope until, at last, she reached the side and pulled herself onto the deck. The fog was even heavier here—Terra could barely see her own hand in front of her face. An involuntary shudder swept down her back.

“How are we going to search this ship when we can barely see anything?” she murmured.

Raiden grinned. “We’ll just have to go one step at a time.”

I was afraid you were going to say that, Terra thought, stepping over the skeletal remnants of what appeared to be a lion.

Inching their way across the deck, Terra felt more and more uneasy about the whole situation. She had the strong sense that someone was watching them, studying their every movement. Once more she tried to reach out with her telepathy, but the same eerie void was still blocking her.

Terra had assumed the ship would be similar to theirs, only bigger. But the farther they trekked across its charcoal exterior, the more she realized it was closer to the size of a small city. Minutes crept by and they still hadn’t traversed the entire deck yet.

Even worse was the fact that no one said a word.

Terra exhaled and clenched her teeth together. Lightning flashed. Her gaze flicked skyward and she heard a low rumble of thunder. With her attention on the storm, she didn’t notice the pile of bones in her path. Terra tripped right over them, toppling head first onto the deck.

“What was that?” Niadus’s voice called through the fog, betraying a hint of fright.

“Just me,” Terra grumbled, picking herself up. “What kind of person leaves bones strewn across his whole ship, anyway?”

“Pirates,” Raiden answered.

Niadus snorted. “No pirates I’ve ever—”

Then she heard it: the quick patter of footsteps across the other side of the deck. Terra froze and listened acutely for something else, but all she heard was the steady pouring of the rain. She considered taking out one of the earplugs, but decided not to for fear of the hypnotic music. Wiping her rain-soaked hair out of her eyes, Terra was about to ask the others if they had heard it, too. But all four had stopped as well, and already she knew the answer.

Another boom of thunder followed.

“Let’s keep going,” Cyrus said, his voice so low Terra barely even heard it.

The five of them crept forward until they reached the quarterdeck. From here, Terra could just barely make out the helm of the ship, completely unmanned.

Terra couldn’t help it any longer; she voiced the question she’d been wondering since they’d first set foot on the colossal vessel:

“What’s happening?”

Before anyone could answer, she heard a high-pitched giggle coming from the starboard side of the ship. It sounded like a girl’s voice.

“Laurel?!” Niadus shouted.

Then, from a different direction, Terra heard a sword grinding against a scabbard as it was unsheathed.

The Princess clamped a hand over her mouth. She could feel her heartbeat pounding like a gong in her wrists and neck.

“I see him!” Raiden yelled over the pounding rain.

“Wait!” Cyrus shouted, but he was too late; Niadus had already disappeared into the mist toward the giggle while Raiden pounced toward the sound of the sword. Sprinting after Raiden, Cyrus and Keira both disappeared into the fog. The Princess scampered after the other three, but they were too fast. In only a second’s time she’d completely lost track of everyone.

She was alone.

Terra waded through the dense mist, desperate to catch up to the others when she heard the slash of a blade.

Then a scream.