Realm Of Blood And Fire (Book 3) (27 page)

“None of us can draw that much power. You know that.” Agmunsten huffed a loud breath. “Although, what if we tried linking?”

“Isn’t it dangerous?” Astra looked from Agmunsten to Arie.

“Yes, but isn’t everything we do lately dangerous?”

“Fair point.” Astra still didn’t like the idea. Arie was so young and so inexperienced. She balled her fists at the thought that a boy was being drawn into an ugly war—it just wasn’t right.

Arie had noticed Astra’s frown. “It’s okay. That’s what I signed up for when I joined the
academy. I’d rather die trying to do this than in a gormon’s mouth. That’s our choice, right?”

Agmunsten patted his belly.
“Lunchtime. We’ll have enough time to discuss this stuff on our voyage, but right now, I want to eat.”

“I agree with Agmunsten. Warrimonious and I have been promised a fresh sheep each.”

They parted ways and enjoyed the last peaceful lunch they would in a long time.

Once on the ship, Arie explored every nook and cranny, from the bilge to the captain’s quarters. The captain was a short man who wore no shirt under his gold-buttoned black vest. His black hair was oiled and cut to the nape of his neck, where it curled up. Dark hair covered his tanned arms and strong chest. He was, to the realmist
s’ surprise, fluent in Veresian. “Anything you need, realmists, just let me know.” Captain Feresten had been advised that the realmists were going to give the fleet some assistance in sailing faster, and he wanted to make that as easy as possible. Any number of ferocious storms could spring up on the crossing to the west, not to mention those dastardly whirlpools that seemed to be eating more sea and land by the day. The less time they spent crossing, the better.

After the ships left the
harbor, the dragons waited a few hours before they took off, knowing they could cover the distance much faster than the ships. Zim and Warrimonious were surprised when they didn’t catch the fleet until the next morning.

Sunning himself on the deck, Arie looked up. “Yay! Zim and Warrimonious finally made it.”
What took you so long?
Arie taunted.

The black dragon laughed.
It seems you’re making much better time than I thought.

Agmunsten, Astra and I tried holding hands and making a circle. We were able to draw Second-Realm power so much easier. We’re just having a rest before we do it again.

We’re going to have a quick stop at one of the islands to eat this afternoon. We’ll catch you again tomorrow morning.

Arie waved as the dragons flew into the distance.

The afternoon sun was a blinding orange orb on the horizon. The sailors shaded their eyes intermittently as they went about their business, checking the rigging, tightening ropes and letting out more sail. The wind had progressively lessened since lunch, and Arcon had gathered his group to call up some wind. They stood together and held hands in a circle. Being the strongest, Agmunsten controlled The Circle and was the one that went to the Second Realm first.

Arie
and Astra opened their corridors to the Second Realm, letting the power flow through them and into Agmunsten. As the power went through each realmist, it gathered more from their open conduits and returned to Agmunsten, stronger than before. He reached out to the ocean, the wind softly blowing above. His awareness sped away from them until it was miles away. He used the Second-Realm energy to heat a massive expanse of air, all the way to their ships and beyond.

Within a few minutes, the lookout shouted, “Gust to stern.” Astra’s curls blew into her face, but she continued concentrating. Agmunsten had to keep heating the air in front to keep their speed. After forty minutes, sweat poured down his face. “I’m going to close the corridor. Astra, you first and then Arie. Good. Now me.” Agmunsten released their hands and visited the helm. The boat would likely sail fast for another ten or fifteen minutes before it slowed.

“How did we do, Captain?”

“It would be fair to say that you doubled our usual fastest speed. If you can keep this up, we should get there within a week—a new record.”

Agmunsten folded his arms. “I thought Zamahlans never visited our part of the world.”

“Um, I’d prefer not to discuss it. I have a bottle of
Zamahl’s best rum in my cabin if you want to come by later and not talk about where I may or may not have been in the past.”

“Best rum, you say. I think you just said the magic word. See you after dinner.”

Their days developed into a routine of eating, creating breeze, napping, eating, creating breeze. On the fourth night, Agmunsten called the captain, Arie, Astra, and the dragons, who had landed on deck an hour before, to the stern to discuss the plan for the next morning. They had decided that traveling past the gormon-infested waters was best done during daylight hours. It was doubtful, at first, that they would achieve it, however, their wind creation had them making ideal time.

But now was the moment to discuss the
backup plan, just in case the gormons decided to attack late at night. It was not unreasonable for them to discover the realmists passing, especially since they knew their symbols. Everyone was on alert tonight, too, just in case.

“I have to be honest
: there isn’t much we can do except throw fireballs. There are too many ships for us to shield. If we’re quick enough to see where the gormon is coming from, we may be able to stop a single attack—we can shield against small pockets of fire. Also, if anyone sees a ship on fire, smother it with Second-Realm power. Any questions?”

“If the ship is going down, should we just jump into the ocean?”

“Yes, Arie, but don’t jump prematurely. If the ship doesn’t go down, we won’t realize you’re gone until it’s too late. I don’t want you to drown.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll just call Kaphos.”

“Anything else?” Agmunsten looked around the group. “Astra and Zim have first watch. Wake me in five hours. Come on, Arie. It’s time to get some rest.” They climbed into their bunks fully clothed, prepared for anything.

Two hours later, Arie tossed and turned in his top bunk.
Adrenaline bursts flooded his body whenever he thought of being attacked. He felt the air change, the pressure drop. He sat up and bumped his head on the cabin ceiling. Then the bell rang—the sailors sounding the alarm.
Damn
. He rolled off the bed and just missed Agmunsten, who was also rising.

The cabin door banged open with the force of Arie’s enthusiasm. Both realmists shielded themselves before trying to climb the ladder to the deck. But many of the seamen were jumping through the hatch, to get out of the path of the beasts circling above. Arie and Agmunsten had to force their way past the wiry crew.

The night sky had been clear before, but now, as Agmunsten craned his neck, obsidian shapes obscured the stars. The distinctive-shaped wings and eyes as red as burning coals made the head realmist shudder. The gormons circled above the ships like airborne sharks.

“They really are creepy,” Arie whispered. He had thought himself brave, capable of anything
, before, but now . . . . How could the gormons not win? “They’re really large.”

“Now’s not the time to lose your nerve, lad. If I didn’t think you were up to it, I’d send you below.” Agmunsten forced his gaze from the terrifying display and looked into Arie’s eyes. “We can do this. Talia needs us, Arie. Remember Boy?”

“Yes.”

“Tonight, we avenge him, but we’re not going to follow him to the Unknown Realm—do you understand?”

The boy, who was only as tall as Agmunsten’s chin, nodded. The older man hid the guilt he felt, quickly averting his eyes to watch their enemy. The head realmist was happy to see that Zim and Warrimonious had moved themselves to other ships in the fleet. Astra had stayed on their ship, in case a circle was needed.

Astra
stood, bouncing from foot to foot, ready to engage. “How many do you think there are?”

“Hard to tell. There would have to be at least fifty.” Agmunsten ignored the fear that squirmed inside his belly, begging him to run. He gritted his teeth.
We are not going to lose.
“What are we waiting for?”

“Huh?” Astra looked at him, confused.

“Sorry, talking to myself. We’re waiting to see if they attack first. Stuff it; I’m engaging. Let’s get this over with.” The pressure on deck dropped further as all three realmists drew power. “Arie, you shoot your first fireball over there; Astra, you shoot yours over there.” Agmunsten had chosen them to hit the outer part of the circle, while he aimed for the center. Some of the gormons may be shielded, but they couldn’t all be. He was going to try his luck. “Ready. Aim. Now!”

Just as the realmists threw, the gormons broke apart, aware of what was happening below. Astra’s missile hit one of the slower
gormons, who caught alight in a rush of flames. As he fell, he hit two of his brethren, setting them on fire too.

Arie’s fireball clipped the wing of another gormon, who burned until he fell with a sizzle and splash into the ocean. Agmunsten’s fireball shot harmlessly through the gap in the eye of the gormon storm as they dived. Without waiting, the realmists drew again and hurled their projectiles.

Soldiers on the ships held their curved swords aloft, chanting
“Achtar Zamahl! Achtar Zamahl!”
while the sailors scrambled to get out of the way, some ready with buckets to extinguish any flames.

The gormons swooped over the ships, spewing fire. They hit sails, masts, soldiers and sailors. Scream after scream rent the brine-scented air.

The realmists hurled fireball after fireball, hitting their mark more often than not, burning winged bodies falling to land in the water or on the decks, eager sailors rushing to put out the fires and make sure the ships didn’t burn.

Bright
orange flared to Agmunsten’s left as three gormons hit one ship, the flames spreading quicker than the sailors could act. Although the realmists had agreed to try to stop the ships from burning, if they turned their attention from firing at the gormons, they would make the ships an easier target. The quicker they could kill the monsters, the better. The cries of the soldiers and sailors, as they abandoned ship or burnt, reached the realmists. Arie hesitated, turning to the noise.

“Keep firing, lad. There’s nothing we can do for them.”

Another ship, near their bow, burst into flames. The burning timbers warped, squealing almost as loudly as the gormons who cried out triumphantly in their hissing, gravelly voices. The conflagration lit up the ocean and made the terrified faces of the sailors clear to Agmunsten. They were losing this battle—three ships down, and it looked like they would all sink by the end. He had to think of another way.

Smoke blew into their faces.
Arie coughed. Zim and Warrimonious had launched into the air, gaining altitude away from the mass of gormons wheeling and swooping. By ducking in with random attacks, they would give the gormons something else to think about and hopefully distract them enough to slow the carnage.

Agmunsten noticed the dragons’ ploy as Zim dove from above, heading for two gormons flying next to each other. They hadn’t seen him coming. Zim stopped his black scales from turning red—he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. Instead of flaming the gormons with
his breath, he released a jet of flames from his hands through the Second Realm as he flew past.

Before they could react, their hides blistered and flamed. The air passing their bodies as they flew, fanned the fire—their deaths swift.

“We need to try something else. We can’t kill them fast enough. I’m getting tired.” Astra gritted her teeth and threw another fireball.

“Join hands.” Agmunsten reached for his comrades. Arie and Astra’s hands burned in his—the amount of channeling they were doing was taking its toll. They couldn’t keep this up much longer. And what Agmunsten had in mind this time would
likely incapacitate them. If this didn’t work, it was all over. “Hold steady. I’m going to ask a lot of you. Don’t let go, whatever happens.”

They both looked at him with fear and resolve—his words were clear to them: hold on until you die.

The three stood in a circle, feet wide, planted securely on the deck. Agmunsten drew first; then Arie; then Astra. The head realmist filled the corridor with power, taking in as much as he could—it felt like gulping down more water than his mouth and throat could take, and he wanted to gag. The others drew as much as they could, and the power transferred to Agmunsten.

Sweat poured from his face and arms, dripping to his hands and mixing with the moisture of his companions. As the energy built inside his body, threatening to scorch his veins, he formed an intricate network of power in the sky above the gormons—invisible, until he set it free. He sent a warning to the dragons.
Zim, Warrimonious, stay away.
Then he said one simple word: “burn.”

A gossamer net of fire spread across the sky. Arie thought it looked like a giant, bright
spiderweb. Agmunsten fought off a dizzy spell as he lowered the net onto the gormons. It was like catching fish—he swept the net lower, snagging more and more of the beasts from the Third Realm.

One after another they caught alight, until they formed one titanic, airborne bonfire that looked like a miniature sun. Only a few gormons escaped the net; those were hunted down and killed by Zim and Warrimonious.