Chapter 422: Chapter 419: Hoarfrost Bay

Chapter 419: Hoarfrost Bay

 

  The crew of the Lazy Lady was tying themselves onto the nearest guard rails they could find by the time Callum and Kithina walked onto the main deck. Lysaila stood at the center of the commotion with her arms crossed watching the sailors with a smirk.

  Callum raised his eyebrow. “What’s with all the rope?”

  “They’re saying that the fog sometimes shows you things that might make you want to jump. The rope is to help prevent that, but if you ask me I say just close your damn eyes,” Lysaila said.

  “Closing your eyes won’t be enough,” Greyson called out. 

  “Ah, captain, there you are. How long do you think we’ll have to travel through this fog?” Callum pointed to the encroaching blanket of grey on the horizon. 

  Greyson scratched his beard in thought. “Hm, hard to say. The fog appears in large patches throughout the northern waters of the bay. It could be a few minutes, it could be several hours, even days.”

  “Do you think we’ll need all this rope then?” Callum asked doubtfully.

  “It’s not the amount of time that’s the problem. The fogs show your mind strange things, they whisper into your ears your greatest fears or your greatest desires. Some men have gone mad from being in the fogs for too long.”

  Callum blinked. “Huh. I’ll take some of that rope, please.”

  “Same,” Kithina said with a sour frown.

  “As you wish.” Greyson snapped his fingers and two of his sailors brought out some rope and began tying the mages to the main mast.

  “Just make sure to keep our hands free so we can cast spells,” Kithina said.

  “Yes, ma’am,” the sailor said with meek reverence.

  Kithina stiffened at his tone. She was still getting used to how the common folk viewed the mageborns. She had spent so much time among her colleagues, nobility, and powerful warriors that she had forgotten that out here she wasn’t just a daughter of a scribe from the commoner district, she was a mage and she was to be feared.

  Straightening up her back, Kithina took a deep breath and addressed the sailor with what she thought was her most regal tone, “That will be all. Go and see to—” 

  The wind suddenly blew across her face and sent a fistful of her bright orange hair into her mouth. She spat and shook her head to try and get it out but she couldn’t quite get it all.

  “Hah! You look like a worm, squirming everywhere!” Lysaial laughed at her with unrestrained sadistic mirth.

  “You sure you don’t want to be tied up? I’d hate to see you go overboard,” Kitty frowned.

  “Pass. Lamias are immune to mind magic, this fog will pass by me without a whisper. Besides, if I’m tied up then who would cut you out from the rope afterwards?” 

  “A few sailors standing by below deck,” Greyson answered.

  “The question was rhetorical.” Lysaila shook her head, “Vampires, they all think they know better than everybody else.”

  Greyson glared at her, but held his tongue. He had seen what the lamia could do with a blade and he wasn’t eager to join his bruised men.

  “Not all vampires are bad,” Callum said. “I mean look at me.”

  “You’re half-vampire, Cal,” Kitty said.

  “Okay, sure, but—”

  “And didn’t your sister kill your siblings?” Lysaila asked.

  Callum frowned, “We agreed not to talk about that.”

  “You know, I met a vampire back when I was traveling with the valley tribes,” Lysaila recalled. “Nokti was her name. You would have liked her, she also had a stick up her ass.”

  Callum’s expression grew dark. “...I already met her.”

  “What?”

  “At Widow’s Crag,” Kithina said numbly.

  “Right before she helped kill our friend,” Callum muttered. “He also thought he knew it all, but he was actually one of the few vampires worth listening to.”

  Lysaila’s looked away in embarrassment. “Oh, right… I’m sorry,” she said in a rare moment of sincerity.

  Callum looked up to the sky and sighed. “Not as sorry as she’ll be I reckon.” 

  “The fog is coming. Hurry up, boys!” Greyson yelled to his crew.

  “Aye, captain!” the sailors shouted. They rushed to the guardrails and finished tying the ropes with a newfound fervor.

  “They’re really scared of the fog, huh,” Kithina noted. “Are you sure you don’t want to be tied up?”

  “Quite,” Lysaila yawned and stretched her arms.

  “The fog is not the only reason we anchor ourselves to the ship,” Greyson said grimly. “There are… other things in these waters.”

  “What, you mean the sirens?” Lysaila chuckled. “Yeah, no, I’m good. I doubt any of them will show up and if they do I’ll just skewer them.”

  Greyson shrugged his shoulders. “Have it your way.”

  The sea’s current grew strong as they neared the wall of fog until the ship began to sway greatly from side to side.

  “This is it! Brace yourselves!” Greyson yelled.

  Lysaila yawned with disinterest. Despite the ship’s tumultuous shaking, Lysaila retained a perfect balance. As for Callum and Kithina, they were glad to be strapped to the mast.

  As the waves came crashing down on the ship Callum tried his best to appear brave. “See you on the other side,” he shouted to Kithina.

  She turned to him and saw the fear in his eyes, then winked, “Don’t worry, just stay close. I’ll protect you.”

  “Believe me, I will,” he chuckled nervously.

  The fog wrapped around the Lazy Lady like an all-encompassing storm. As soon as the ship was inside the fog the waves went still and the world fell into silence. 

  The fog was thick and it was difficult to breathe almost like smoke. Callum looked around in a panic. He could barely see Kithina’s silhouette next to him, let alone anyone else.

  The mutterings and whispers of the sailors’ prayers echoed through the ship. Some prayed to the Guardian of the Realm, the ebon goddess of war Bellum. Others prayed to the Navigator, the azure patron god of sailors. And a few prayed to whatever being was willing to listen.

  “Hey guys?” a shaky voice called out.

  “Lysaila, is that you? Are you alright?” Kithina answered.

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  “Y-Yeah, totally. It’s just, um, by any chance. Do any of you see several dragons encircling above us?” Lysaila said uneasily.

  Kithina glanced up in a heartbeat but there was nothing in the sky. All she could see was fog. “No, there’s nothing.”

  Callum smiled, “Don’t tell me, Miss Lamia is having trouble with the fog?”

  “Of c-course not, nothing to see here,” Lysaila stammered. “It’s just fog, it’s just fog…” she muttered to herself repeatedly.

  “I thought you’re kind was immune to all sorts of mind magic,” Callum teased.

  “I’m fine,” Lysaila hissed.

  “Whatever you see, do not trust the fog’s visions!” Greyson warned.

  “In other words, Lysaila, don’t be an idiot and jump ship to try and avoid the dragons,” Callum said.

  “I know that, so shut up already!” Lysaila snapped.

  Callum laughed. He couldn’t see the lamia but he could picture the terror in her eyes. Gods, he wished he could see it.

  “Callum?”

  He stiffened at the sound. 

  That voice…

  He had never heard it before but he knew it all the same. From the dense fog, a faint silhouette appeared in the waters and grew clearer with every breath. It was another ship, far larger than Lazy Lady. Its hull was ebon black and its six giant masts flew the Veres banner, a skull writhing in shadows pierced by Krikolm from above. The Dread Shadow, the flagship of House Veres.

  “Callum!” the voice echoed once more, warm and familiar like the sun.

  From the edge of the Dread Shadow’s bow, a woman appeared in a billowing blue dress. With one hand, she held her hat from flying off in the wind, and with the other hand she reached out.

  The woman smiled. “Callum.”

  “Mom…?” he whispered in disbelief.

  He had never met her, he had only seen paintings. He had never heard her voice and yet he knew, he knew, it was her. 

  “Callum,” she called out.

  Her voice sounded so close as if she was whispering into his ear.

  “Mama!” a young boy shouted from the black ship’s deck and ran into the woman’s arms.

  She snatched him up into her embrace and spun him around. “There you are, my little Cal!”

  “No, Mom, that’s not me!” Callum cried out. 

  “Cal? Are you okay?” Kithina said worriedly.

  The Dread Shadow began to sail away, the mother and child oblivious to the world around them.

  “Wait, don’t go! I’m over here, Mom! Don’t leave me!” Callum yelled helplessly and strained against his ropes.

  “Cal, snap out of it! It isn’t real,” Kithina said. She tried to grab his arm but the ropes held taut. “You need to wake up, Cal! Your mom isn’t there. She died in labor. Remember! Nothing here is real! It’s just the fog messing with your mind! You need to— to… what the…?” her voice trailed off. 

  What is that? Kithina thought with a confused expression.

  An ice floe had emerged from the fog and drifted near their ship. A wooden pole stood at the center of the ice floe, almost like a mast, and a candle-lit lantern hung from its top, illuminating the small figure sitting on the ice.

  It was a small baby bird surrounded by sheets of paper with scrawled writings on them. In one flipper the bird held a red quill and in the other flipper it held what seemed to be a black book with blue embellishments and a gold trim.

  “Maybe something like that?” the bird muttered, then shook its head. “Hm, no, maybe like this?” it said and wrote something down into the book.

  “Um, h-hello?” Kithina called out cautiously.

  “Huh?” the bird looked up at the sound, “Ah!” it squawked in surprise and dropped the book and quill. The bird jumped to its feet and clapped its flippers together twice. The ice floe shook from side to side and with a loud pop the baby bird blinked out of existence, leaving nothing behind but the ice floe and makeshift mast.

  “S-Stay away!” Lysaila yelled fearfully while waving her sword to the sky.

  “Mom, don’t go, please!” Callum screamed, tears streaming down his face.

  Her friends’ desperate voices pulled Kithina back to her senses. She shook her head and blinked several times. “Enough… Enough of this nonsense!”

  Yellow mana flooded her veins and she stretched her hands out as far as she could. A small cyclone of wind formed around her and flew outward, pushing the fog away and forming a bubble of sorts around the Lazy Lady.

  The sailors looked around, half-dazed.

  “Is… Is it over?” Greyson asked with uncertainty.

  “Where…? What just happened…?” Callum furrowed his brow. “Kitty… did you…?”

  “I can’t keep this up for long,” Kithina said through clenched teeth. “I don’t know why, but the fog, it’s heavy. My wind spell can barely keep it at bay.”

  “Okay,” Callum swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay, I’ll figure something out. Maybe I can create a ward of some sort around us.”

  “Can you make one large enough to cover the entire ship?” Kithina asked with a strained voice.

  “N-No, but… Ah, I have some potions in my satchel. If I can just reach… mm… Lysaila, come help me out! Lysaila…?”

  The lamia had sheathed her blade and was no longer staring up at the sky with a panic-stricken face, but her deep blue eyes weren’t looking at any of her companions either. Her eyes were staring out into the sea.

  “Lysaila? Are you alright?” Callum asked.

  The lamia slowly slithered her way towards the edge of the ship.

  “Lysaila, what are you doing!?” Callum yelled.

  Then he heard it. From far out in the sea he heard the faint enticing song of the sirens.

 

 

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