Chapter 8

Smoke filled the corridors and chambers below decks as men scrambled to fight the fires that were springing up across the hull as the magic infused nodes of the ship's engine overloaded from the strain. Boiling water sprayed from burst pipes, and panic filled the air as men screamed, caught in the steam.

Mathias pressed himself back into a doorway, arm raised to protect his face from the scalding steam. With his free hand, he grasped his wand, pulling it from the sheath on his belt. Runes glowed along its length at his touch, and he grunted the words of power before thrusting the wand out before him.

Wind ripped through the corridor, cutting through the thick steam. It parted for just a moment, long enough for him to run before it swirled back into place behind him. His boot hit something, and he stumbled, glancing down at the blistered body of a sailor who raised a hand to him, skin sloughing off in wet strands.

He grimaced at the stink of burned flesh and hesitated a moment longer than he should have, before reaching down to grasp the man's shirt. He dragged him, screaming, along the corridor. An act that forced him to waste mana keeping the spell active as he waved the wand fore and aft, dissipating the steam.

Officer Letterford braced himself against the deck as he leaned in, throwing all his weight against the heavy wrench in his hands. His attempt at closing the valve to stop the flow of boiling water having little effect.

Mathias dropped the injured man at his feet and shoved Officer Letterford out the way. The man cursed, hand falling to his rapier, but Mathias ignored him as he pointed the wand at the valve and cast a spell of sealing.

The flow of water slowed to a trickle and then stopped entirely as the metal pipe closed around the damaged section. Another three words spoken, the runes blinking out on the wand, and Mathias pressed the burning tip to the metal, welding it closed as he shielded his eyes from the flame.

"Finally decided to help," Officer Letterford snapped. "About blasted time."

"I'm helping myself." Mathias wiped a trembling hand down his face, calming his breathing as he released the spell and the burning tip of the wand returned to normal, undamaged by the heat or flame that had been there moments ago. "What fool is flying this damned ship?"

"Choose your words with care, sir," Officer Letterford said. He knelt beside the wounded man and grimaced before turning and shouting at a running sailor to come help. Then he looked back at Mathias. "I'll not have you disrespect an officer of her majesty's navy."

"Merchant navy," the wizard's apprentice pointed out, smirking as the officer's face darkened. "There'll be more damage to mend, and I can only assume you wish me to help further?"

"Yes." The word spoken through gritted teeth. "Help where you can."

Mathias had the upper hand, and he knew it. His self-interest was strong, forcing him on as he pressed the advantage.

"Then I need access to Adept Carlyle's quarters." He couldn't keep the smile from his face as Officer Letterford opened his mouth to protest. Mathias spread his hands and cocked his head to one side, fighting to keep his smirk from widening. "I have not the mana to power my spells, nor the knowledge to fix the ships engine if it is damaged. I need the supplies and tomes she kept in her room."

The officer glared, but knew his options were limited. Many ships had a wizard onboard who could maintain the great engine that maintained their ability to navigate the void. The captain, however, had decided that since there would be not one, but two, wizards on the ship, there was no need to pay for one on crew.

A costly mistake.

Mark Letterford had always considered himself to be a man of duty, of honour, and above all else, of discipline. The Queen's laws were sacrosanct in his eyes, and he had punished many a crewman for breaking them.

That he was being forced to break the law for the arrogant wizard was galling, and while his duty to the ship in her time of need was greater, he would have the wizard answer for forcing the issue.

"You press your luck, sir," Officer Letterford said, stiffly. He pulled a ring of brass keys from a pocket of his coat and sorted through the quickly. He pulled off one that would unlock the wizard's quarters and tossed it at the mage who caught it deftly. "Take only what you need, and I shall see you hanged for theft if you do not return every item back where you found it."

Mathias didn't reply, just stalked past the officer and sailor, leaving them to deal with their wounded mate. He made his way through the corridors of the ship, down another level to where their quarters were.

Smoke filled the lower decks, and he had to use more of the wands charge to clear the air enough that he could make his way to the cabins without choking on the thick, black smoke. Men ran past with buckets of sand to douse flames, while those with injuries too great to allow them to continue, headed for the surgeon's offices.

When he reached the cabins, he eagerly opened his teacher's door and pushed inside. There was no lamp already burning and he had neither the time nor the patience to waste, so he spoke a single word and bright white light flared on the tip of his wand.

Holding it high, the small room was lit well enough for him to find the chest where she had stored her belongings. Throwing it open, he sorted quickly through the contents before pulling out a canvas bag filled with the technical tomes for the great engines, and that which contained the specifications and designs for his final apprentice piece.

Next, he lifted out three small glass bottles filled with a golden liquid that glowed against his hand. Mana. The source of power for his magics and those that wrapped tight around the ship's engine.

He slipped them into the bag with the books and let the chest close as he rose to his feet.

A smile formed on his lips as his eyes glittered with avarice. He had what he needed to complete the apprentice piece. But as the ship groaned beneath his feet, he hesitated. If the ship went down, he'd never make it back to claim his reward. For all his talk of self-interest, survival came first. 

With his wand gripped tight, he headed back out into the corridors and went in search of the engine room.

****

Erin clutched her side as she scrambled across the deck. It hurt to breathe, hurt to move, but her desperate need to help the gryphon urged her on. Black smoke rose from the cracked and broken decking, and she had to tread carefully for fear it would collapse beneath her.

Fortunately, her slight build and small frame was a boon for once, and her weight was supported as she made it to the gryphon's quarters. She gripped the door handle and hesitated as the door shook, something heavy crashing against it.

Sucking in a deep breath, she pulled it open and stepped inside.

The room was filled with smoke, the racking and chests that contained their equipment had been thrown about the room, wood breaking and valuable, equipment smashed and torn beyond repair. Great gouges had been raked into the wooden floor and hull as the panicked gryphon strained to free itself.

A thick chain was attached to his collar, connecting to an iron ring bolted firmly to the wall of the room. His wings were bound to his side by leather strapping, and a canvas hood covered his head. A necessity to keep him calm in foul weather, but of little use right then.

"E-Erin." Her name was spoken with a weak voice, wheezy and gasping for breath.

Geoffrey lay against the far wall, his body broken and battered. Blood covered his chest where the panicked gryphon's talon had drawn a crimson line, almost disembowelling him. The blood was pooling beneath him, and his ankle was bent inwards, broken beyond any but a wizard's power to fix.

Without healing he would never walk on it again, but before that, she needed to stop the bleeding of his abdomen.

Brightcrest reared, talons scoring the wall as he lashed out blindly. He too bore bruises and scrapes as he'd been thrown around when the ship capsized. His neck was red raw beneath the collar, and she shuddered, understanding how the short chain would have strangled him as the ship lay on its side.

"Calm, boy," she called, raising her hands though he couldn't see. He could hear her, she knew. "Be calm, I'm here to help you."

His screech was fearful and forlorn, and her heart wept for him, that magnificent creature bound so cruelly. Trapped and blind, when the world was thrown asunder.

"I'm here to help you, my bright boy," she cooed. "Be calm, be still."

Please don't tear me to shreds, she added silently as she took a step towards him.

He reared, skipping back away from her, but she continued to speak in soft tones, her voice low and calming as she took another step. The wooden decking cracked and splintered as his talons dug into the wood, gripping it as though holding on for dear life.

"Calm," she repeated, again and again, focusing everything she had on keeping her voice steady when her breath rasped in her throat and every part of her body ached. "Be still."

Fear gripped her, but not so much for herself, but for the magnificent creature before her. There was an ache in her breast at the sight of him so bound and hurt.

Then she was beside him, and she reached out, whispering soft words as he shifted this way and that, head turning beneath the hood. She closed her hand around his harness, the collar slick with his blood, its scent metallic and sharp even above the smoke.

Reaching up, she gripped the hood, "Be calm, bright boy," she whispered. "It's me, only me."

Moving oh so slowly, she pulled free the hood, and a brilliant amber eye blinked at the light before focusing angrily on her. He reared, pulling back his head and hissing as she was lifted from her feet, holding tight to his harness.

"Bright, no!"

He shook his body, screeching and she lost her grip, flying free to hit the foul-smelling straw covered decking, the breath driven from her lungs. Brightcrest reared up, talons flashing and she threw out her hands, fingers spread as though that was any protection.

Bright's talons slammed into the deck beside her head, piercing the wood. His massive beak, nearly the size of her torso, halted inches from her face.

Erin didn't scream as she felt her heartbeat hammering in her chest, her muscles locked in terror. Her instincts screamed at her to curl into a ball, to make herself small. But instead, she forced her breath out in slow, steady exhales and met his gaze, willing herself to be still.

Though her hands trembled, and her bladder was moments from release with the terror of it.

She met his stare.

And he blinked, recognition returning as the panic faded from his eyes.

Erin exhaled a soft sigh. When locked on prey, a gryphon never blinked. She was not prey to him.

His great beak nudged her, gently and a soft warble escaped him, a cry for comfort and help. She rested her hand tentatively against his smooth beak, before rubbing it gently.

"I know, bright boy," she breathed. "I'm here to help."

Breathing easier, fear fading and moving slowly, she climbed to her feet and reached for the knife at her belt. She glanced across at Geoffrey, torn with her need to help them both.

"G-go," he said, lifting a bloodied hand to wave her back. "Get him to safety and off this cursed ship."

She nodded, and reached for the leather straps binding his wings, brushing her hand across his broad shoulders to let him know she meant no harm. He turned his head, eyes fixed to her, burning with bright intelligence.

He understood she was helping, she realised. Not only that, he trusted her to do so.

Erin wasted no time trying to find the buckle and instead used her knife to saw through the soft leather. As soon as his wings were free, he reared, moving to unfurl them.

"No!" she cried. "Wait! Not in here."

There was no room and his wings were powerful. It would be easy for him to send her crashing into the wall or, worse, to catch Geoffrey with them.

Brightcrest paused, head pulling back as he twisted it back and forth, fighting the urge to stretch his wings. Erin's smile was radiant as she realised that once again, he not only understood, but he was also trying to obey her command.

"Thank you," she whispered, reaching for the chain connected to his collar. She pulled the pin from the U-shaped metal shackle that connected the chain to the metal ring on his collar and the chain fell free.

Taking his harness in her hand and moving slowly, she led him from the room. He ducked beneath the door frame and squawked happily as he stepped outside, even with the rain that was falling heavily.

There was less smoke rising through the broken deck, Erin noted, and a few soot covered sailors were on deck, surveying the damage. The worst of it was over, but it was still not safe for Brightcrest to be on the ship.

"Help!" She cried and pointed with her free hand at the gryphon's quarters. "Geoffrey's hurt."

Two of the sailors exchanged glances before running over. They gave her and the gryphon a wide berth, before ducking into the gryphon's quarters.

Geoffrey would get the help he needed, she thought before turning her attention back to Brightcrest. Licking her lips she looked up into his eyes. "I'm going to have to climb up. Please be okay with that."

No response from Brightcrest, and she gripped the harness in both hands and with a wince of pain at the stabbing jolt to her side with the motion, she managed climb slowly up onto his back.

Her legs fit naturally over the wing joint, as she sat on his broad shoulders. She could feel every movement of his powerful limbs as he took a careful step across the deck. He looked back, eyes fixed on her, and she realised with a shock that he was checking she was okay. That she wouldn't fall off with his movement.

She smiled and leaned forward, patting his neck.

Now, more than ever, she felt that bond between them. It was intangible, but it was there, like a chain connecting their souls. Absurd, she knew, but that's how it felt to her.

"Yes," she said, reading the question in his eyes. "I'm ready, my bright boy. Fly!"