Path of the Stonebreaker

Chapter 108

Wailing Rocks

Jagged pillars of black rock jutted up from the mist like the teeth of a great beast. Femira could feel the apprehension of the crew as palpable as the cold air. She strained to peer through the thick, swirling fog, all she could see were the sharp pillars and craggy cliffs that loomed out of the mist.

The air was thick with the salty tang of the sea, but there was also a sickly sweet smell that made her skin crawl. It was the smell of decay, of something rotting and foul that lay hidden in the shadows of the island's caves. Femira recognised the smell, she’d smelled it at Temple Beach and many of the coves along the Tidewall.

Draega.

She felt tingly, on edge. Somehow she knew that there would be draega near this island. Landryn’s books had claimed that they came from the north. The heartland of Athlin was wild and untamed with only the lands around the coastal cities of Port Novic and Estarhall being cultivated. It was where Landryn suspected the draega to be coming from. But now Femira thought differently. Connie seemed to believe that the Wailing Rocks were breeding grounds for monsters. Maybe these islands were the true origin of the creatures.

Femira felt an icy breeze on her neck and she shuddered. She noticed that some of the crew trembled with fear as the ship moved closer towards the island. The sea itself seemed to grow darker, as if in warning.

“My father called it the mistmares,” Connie said, appearing at Femira’s side. “My parent’s crew explored many of these islands searching for the Limirian Tower. He told me how the mist would cripple the morale of their crew. Sailors would often panic and try to flee, only to run their ships into the reefs in their desperation.”

“Sounds like a foebreaker,” Femira realised. Foebreakers used diamond mindstones to shatter their opponents morale, the strongest could blanket ranks of their enemies in fear. And the most devious of them hide in plain sight, manipulating everyone around them. The thought came angrily into her mind. The more she thought about it, the more the mistmares sounded like it.

Nyth? Can you feel that? She waited for a response from Nyth and was surprised that she didn’t immediately receive an image from it. Femira had left it in armour form, in case she did need to fight a draega, even though she could summon it in seconds if she needed to. But there was a sense of comfort and security she felt having Nyth’s weight already on her.

Nyth’s response was distracted, Femira could feel the impression of an absent-minded apology. Almost like Nyth was sorry for not being vigilant. It was strange as Nyth was always hyper-aware of what was going on around them. Femira was sent an image that she’d felt from Nyth before; of a burning sky and massive chunks of earth rising into the air. Of grasslands burning and rivers of molten rock. I don’t know what this is, Nyth.

The sense of apprehension Femira had felt growing in her was suddenly cut off. Nyth? It sent her back the visual of light passing through a diamond and being warped. This was sometimes how it conveyed the emotion-altering effects of mindstone. So it is a foebreaker?! Nyth's response was that of confusion; a miasma of swirling colours. Femira guessed that Nyth wasn’t sure.

“I don’t think we’re alone,” Femira muttered to Connie, “are you sure no one lives on these islands?”

“Not even pirates stay here longer than a day. The mistmares are usually enough to deter anyone. Try not to let them burrow into you.”

“I think it’s a person,” Femira said, “a foebreaker… somewhere on the island, a strong one too.” Connie gave her a troubled look then looked back out to the mists.

“Alright!” Connie announced to the crew, “we’ll drop anchor here. Mist should cover us from those warships and no point getting closer to the island than we need to.” Femira could see the visible relief on the faces of the crew as Connie began to call out instructions.

“How long do you think we’ll linger here?” Sleek asked, approaching Connie.

“We’ve plenty of supplies,” Connie disclosed, “more than enough for five weeks ashore, but this place,” she shuddered, “makes me uneasy. Let’s give the Reldoni a few days to give up, then we’ll carry on.”

That night, Sleek did his best to rally the group’s morale. After the sun had gone down, the mist seemed to thicken, enveloping them in an eerie veil. With trembling fingers, Sleek plucked at the strings of his lute, coaxing out a jaunty melody at odds with their surroundings. His voice rose in his raspy tenor, singing familiar sailors’ songs.

The ones that Sleek had picked were obviously a purposeful choice, meant to raise spirits of the crew. Or perhaps his own. They were songs of bravery and valour, of heroes who faced impossible odds and somehow emerged victorious. He sang of Krastac—the songs of his time before his fall to Elyina the Earthmage, and then he sang of more modern heroes like Vagar the Bold and Taran the Hunter.

Cowbell often cooked up on the deck—provided it wasn’t raining—and he did so tonight on a small cookfire built over a stone slab inset into the ship's timbers for this purpose. Cowbell had a way of bringing dried meats to life with rich, savoury sauces of spices and herbs. Tonight, he added some red wine and used the little fresh vegetables he had left to enhance the dish. He had also whipped up a creamy, comforting mashed potato, dotted with chunks of salty, tangy feta cheese. It was one of the best meals Femira had ever tasted, and she’d spent months living in the Reldoni palace.

Femira had Nyth actively suppressing any of the mind-altering effects that were being pressed upon the ship’s occupants. But that didn’t mean that her own natural fears and anxieties weren’t setting in. They were vulnerable and exposed on the deck and Femira was at a disadvantage on the ship if they were attacked by any draega. She had Nyth, yes. But she would rather have an unlimited supply of sand and rock too.

She felt those fears start to melt away as the night wore on. The atmosphere began to liven up more to how it was on a regular night aboard Connie’s ship. One-by-one the crew members slipped off to bed, their bellies full and their mind’s soothed. But Femira would not be retiring tonight. She would stay awake with the lookouts. She didn’t want to be awakened by the sound of their screams.

Farns had taken the first watch with her. She hadn't had much opportunity to speak one-on-one with the man over the trip. Tonight wasn’t the best time for that however. Femira wanted to remain vigilant. He was similar in appearance to Sleek, a receding hairline, and his remaining dark hair kept long and tied back in a ponytail. It seemed to be a common enough style for ageing sailors. He was more squat than Sleek.

“I cannae understand it,” Farns said after a long spell of silence, “I’d heard others describe the mistmare before but…” he shuddered.

“Have you ever heard of foebreaker?” Femira asked.

“Aye, ‘course I have.” They featured in many fables of runewielders.

“It’s like that. Feels like there’s one out there… but it’s different. I can’t feel any threads of an edir. It’s like the mist itself is somehow doing it,” Femira disclosed. She couldn’t really place why she felt that way.

When she’d caught Garld manipulating her with his mindstone, she could focus her edir to detect the hairline stream of his edir connecting to her. But here it was different, it wasn’t like the pulsing wave of her edir. It was heavy, like an unwanted blanket. Every now and then she would ask Nyth to rescind its mental shield and she would feel it weighing down on her.

Femira told Farns that she would rather focus on the lookout than continue the conversation. Femira knew that she was the only one who could protect the ship and its crew from any draega. And she’d led them here. Deep in the recesses of her mind, a voice screamed at her arrogance. This was how Selyn and Drad had died. Because of her.

They both sat on benches at the bow of the ship, watching the swirling patterns of the mist. The light of the oil-lamps took on an ethereal quality, as if it were a living thing, dancing and flickering, surrounded by an infinite expanse of darkness that seemed to stretch out endlessly in every direction. It casted long, twisted shadows that played tricks on Femira’s eyes, giving rise to the sense that something is moving just beyond the edge of her vision.

And then she felt it.

A… disturbance. A ripple in the water—more than the gentle lapping of the tide. She knew something was approaching. Nyth dissolved around her, and reformed as a length of spear, its blade the same double helix as its sword form. Farns noticed and his face became a mask of terror. Femira gripped the shaft of the nythilium spear tightly in one hand, the other coming to her lips in a shushing gesture, urging Farns to remain silent.

She could see the water around the ship. The dancing light of the lamps on the black water. A sea painted black. It was an image that Nyth often sent to her and she could never discern its meaning. Right now she felt fear looking at the sea. She wondered if that was the emotion Nyth was trying to convey with that image.

She could see shifting in the water as massive forms began slicing through the waves with effortless grace. Scales caught the light of the lamps. Femira felt a sudden surge of fear wash over her. Whatever draega these are, they’re not kraglings. She pushed the fears aside, focusing instead on the task at hand.

“Th-th-th,” Farns stuttered.

“Wake the others,” Femira hissed, giving him a shove off the bench.

She rose smoothly, Nyth levitating up from her hand at her command. She’d been testing the range that she could fire Nyth in spear form and still be able to recall it. It was quite far—the full range of her edir, which was over a hundred yards if she had good visibility. She did not have that tonight however.

She could see more shapes cutting through the waves. She couldn’t count how many approached. Farns was making a racket as he clambered across the deck towards the door to the cabin.

Femira shot Nyth forward, focusing on one of the moving shapes. The spear cut through the air as fast as a crossbow bolt. Nythilium was strange in that it sometimes didn’t reflect light and the spear passed through the mist like a shadow. Femira had suspected that Nyth could actually consciously control when it wanted to reflect light or not. The creature she was aiming for spun and twisted, trailing a wake of sparkling droplets in its wake before plunging into the dark, churning waters with a resounding splash.

Nyth disappeared into the waves after it, still being guided by Femira’s edir. For a moment, the sea erupted into a chaotic frenzy, as the monster beneath thrashed and writhed in agony. The spear had found its mark.

Femira’s connection to Nyth was still strong through the edir and she could feel it sinking beneath the waves, now lodged in the dying creature. She dissolved it and recalled the spear, which erupted out from the water in a mixture of scintillating sea spray and metal fragments. The cloud of metal dust rushed back to her and she reformed it in midair.

Femira heard the scraping of claws on timber and knew that one of them was climbing the side of the ship behind her. She whipped around, and saw Farns still running towards the cabin door. A dark shape loomed up onto the hull. Farns cried out in terror.

The creature had a long and sinuous body—like a snake. But it was far larger. A multitude of legs gripped at the railing as the thing pulled itself onto the ship. She shot the newly reformed spear towards it and it sliced through the creature like it was butter.

The creature’s body coiled and twisted. The scales gleaming in the lamplight like shards of obsidian. The insect-like legs that had been supporting it buckled and the creature’s snake-like form writhed on the deck. The majority weight of its body was still hanging off the edge of the ship, and pulled it overboard and back into the water.

Again, Femira recalled Nyth back to her.

“Go!” Femira shouted to Farns who had stopped, frozen in fear. “Stay in the cabin with the others.” She commanded. Farns leapt, stirred by her words, and darted for the door. Femira spun around to the unmistakable sound of claws scraping against wood. Another one rose up in front of her. It moved as fast as a viper, lunging forward towards her.

The creature was unlike anything she’d ever seen, its face like a twisted fusion of insect and eel. Its eyes emitted an eerie green glow, like two orbs of phosphorescent flame. Razor-sharp fangs glinted in the lamp-light, revealing the horror of its intention.

Femira flicked her hand forward, shooting Nyth with her edir towards the creature. The spear flashed past her and tore through the monster’s open maw. It cut straight through the sinuous body and burst out the otherside. Just like the last one, the body of the creature writhed and twisted, flopping forward onto the deck before the weight of the rest of its body pulled it under.

Another appeared on the other side of the ship, and Femira guided Nyth around, shooting towards it. She fell into a trance and slowly stepped her way to the center of the ship, guiding the nythilium spear about and striking down the creatures as each one tried to board the ship. They tried attacking in pairs, but they couldn’t move faster than Femira could shoot Nyth around.

Femira lost count of how many she’d killed by the time they stopped climbing up. She’d barely broken a sweat. In truth, she had mostly stayed still, relying on her edir to direct Nyth on the rampage.

She felt invigorated. Undefeatable. She felt alive.

Femira waited with baited breaths for the next draega attempt to scale the ship. A moment passed. Then another. Her adrenaline was still pumping. Her heart still pounding, she heard the sound of claws scraping against the timber. She steeled herself for another assault. It was lower this time—almost imperceptible. She strained to listen, it grew louder and more insistent. But still nothing appeared.

Her eyes scanned the mists, anticipating one of the creatures to launch itself at her. Nyth hovered above her, she separated it into two smaller spears.

The claws continued to scrape against the hull of the ship. It was a relentless, grinding noise, like the scraping of a giant saw against wood. She realised with horror that the creature wasn’t trying to board the ship. It’s trying to burrow inside. She glanced about in panic, unsure of what to do.

There would be no point in pulsing out her edir to sense the creature out. Her edir only resonated with stone and metal. She couldn’t detect the disturbances in the water.

But a wavecaller can!

Femira darted for the cabin door, her Nyth blades trailing after her. She pulled it open, to find the crew all huddled together, terror evident on their faces. The sound of the grinding wood was louder inside the cabin.

“Connie! You have your waterstone?!” Femira shouted.

“Y-yes,” Connie called back. Femira saw her now, one hand grasped on Sleek’s shoulder, the other tightly around the handle of her wheel-lock pistol.

“I don’t know how many are under the ship,” Femira said, “can you detect them in the water with your edir?”

Connie looked confused at first and the realisation dawned on her what Femira was asking. She stood up straight and stepped away from Sleek, nodding.

“Come with me,” Femira instructed. Sleek reached for her, as if hoping that Connie would stay safely with him. But Connie marched after Femira without fear.

Once they were back out on the deck, Femira turned to the woman. She was pointing her pistol around erratically at the darkness.

“Connie, take a breath, and use your edir,” Femira urged. “Where are they?” Femira asked. Connie spread her arms out and closed her eyes. She began making swaying motions.

“It’ll be easier for me to detect things in the water if I’m controlling the flow,” Connie divulged, even though Femira never questioned her.

“There,” Connie pointed to a corner near the rear of the ship. “There’s something there.”

Femira rushed to that side of the ship.

“Just one?”

“I think so.”

“Right. Nyth!” She called to the blades even though she didn’t need to. She reshaped the two blades back into one long spear.

She shot it up into the air to gain momentum then altered the trajectory to the point that Connie had indicated. The spear plunged into the water and Femira continued to guide it through. She felt it lodge in something and the whole ship shuddered and swayed.

The grinding noise relented, growing weaker until it stopped entirely. Femira noticed Connie stepping up next to her. The woman’s knuckles were white around her pistol. Femira realised that Connie was ready to defend her ship and the lives of her crew with every ounce of strength she possessed.

Femira’s eyes searched the darkness for any further sign of the creatures. But there was nothing there, only the calm, still waters of the night.

The ship gently lurched forward and back and after a few long moments of silence the rest of the crew began to emerge hesitantly from the cabin. The bodies of two of the creatures were still draped over the side. Their horrifying heads and much of the serpentine bodies were laid out on the deck. Many of the crew—including Lydia—paled at the sight of them.

“These are draega,” Femira said without any hint of doubt, “these things are the true enemy. And if we don’t stop them, they will continue to spread, and kill, and destroy everything.”