Page 13

SEVENTEEN

Scooping up her familiar and looking him over for any signs of injury, Wanda found nothing but a lolling tongue and joyful expression, as if Wumble had gotten to go for a nice long run or play several rounds of fetch. Despite engaging with three occorites who were nimble and dangerous, Wumble was entirely unharmed.

“You… you’re incredible!” Wanda pulled her dear friend in close for a hug, affection returned via copious licks to her cheek. “I always knew how brave you were, but you’re so much better with all this strength than me, too. Three occorites at once, that’s amazing!”

Relief surged through her as she embraced Wumble. Even if it had been brief, the confrontation was still scary. Knowing she was strong and being sure she could wield that power were separate matters. But the potions had depended on her, which helped Wanda push past the terror of such sights and keep her cool.

Still, she was glad there were no more sounds of flapping from overhead. Just as Wanda turned back to call for Lenar, she saw he and Karlisle rounding the stairwell’s bend before coming to a sudden halt, eyes roaming across the battlefield. “I… I was only a few moments behind.”

It was at that point Wanda realized that, despite the time they’d spent together throughout the day, she’d never actually told Lenar about the strange potion or its apparent side-effects. And with people waiting on their delivery, they couldn’t afford to stop and chat thoroughly about such matters either.

So, Wanda elected to simply not be thorough. “I can explain more later, but for now, please keep this between us. I drank a mysterious potion, and ever since, Wumble and I have had extremely enhanced physical strength. That’s why I wanted to learn more about permanent potions.”

Summary delivered, Wanda resumed ascending the stairs with Wumble, trusting Lenar and Karlisle to follow. They did, though only after a notable pause, and together, the quartet reached the Main Deck without any further interruptions. Even before they arrived, sounds of shouting and stomping had reached Wanda’s ears, but stepping out into the fray was wading into a mire of noise that was near-instantly overwhelming.

Occorites filled the sky. Some as large as their own bearship, others sized like bearplanes, and a myriad of smaller occorites like the ones they’d faced in the stairwell. Shimmering shields with visible holes encircled The Ursender as the largest of the occorites tried to break through. It was a true monster of the skies, larger and grander than any of the others by a scale of magnitude.

Spells of all manner assaulted their attackers, driving some off and fully destroying others. But there was always another occorite to take its place, to the point where the sky was barely visible overhead.

The boost in strength and battle with occorites had Wanda feeling more capable than usual, yet the sight before her instantly brought such notions to a screeching halt. She and Wumble were just a single pair upon a massive ship, under siege by creatures equal to, or even larger than, their very vessel. What good were a practiced punch or honed cleaver against such dangers?

For the first time, Wanda truly appreciated why it was spellcasting that typically defined a wizard’s capability for combat. At a certain point, the dangers were simply too vast for melee to be an effective option, not without unbelievably overwhelming force. Her mind flitted back to the enormous occorite her team faced in the quarry during their first outing together. What could raw power have done in the face of such a foe? Even the rock she’d thrown had been infused with mana, however much that little bit may have helped.

“Alchemists on deck!” The voice was familiar, and Wanda recognized it as Kettlin.

Moments later, Captain Sharshaw’s voice echoed across the deck, “Everyone, move clear of any occorites immediately! We’re getting out of here.”

There was a brief delay, long enough for Wanda to scan the deck a single time searching for her friends. She didn’t see Escador or Parriel, but unless another wizard had a familiar with tentacles, Wanda was fairly sure Yorian and Gurgenforth were hanging off the rigging, slicing occorites out of the air. The pair dove low at the captain’s orders, and no sooner had Yorian’s feet hit the deck than everything around Wanda lurched forward.

Despite feeling rooted and stable, the occorite flock raced past as The Ursender barreled forward at incredible speeds. By the time the effect faded, the occorites were a dark speck on the rear horizon. Wanda was somewhat surprised they hadn’t kept going until the threat was fully out of sight, though that curiosity didn’t have to linger for long.

“Attention, all passengers, we have successfully escaped the occorite horde for now. However, doing so has burned through a tremendous amount of our mana reserves. We are currently on course to take refuge at the port of Spireshadow, moving at the maximum speed our remaining mana supply can sustain. If the occorites catch up before we arrive tomorrow, we will have to face them without any defenses, save what we can cast for ourselves. Anyone in need of mending, please report to the alchemists near the starboard stairwell entrance. Everyone else, please rest and prepare.”

Wanda had just enough time to process the captain’s message before she felt the surge of attention fall on she and Lenar. If there was any doubt about who the alchemists in question might have been, the floating cauldron by her side that was actively in the process of brewing would no doubt tip their identity.

Mercifully, Lenar stepped forward, tone crisp and professional. “Everyone who needs potions, line up in front of me. My fellow alchemist is making more stock, so please do not disturb her. Moments matter a great deal when it comes to treatment, especially for those seriously wounded.”

The crowd backed away from Wanda, shifting over to Lenar who was already pulling the prepared potions out of their carrying case. Based on the number of people just around them who were lining up, it wasn’t going to be enough. Lenar had bought her room to work, and that was exactly what Wanda intended to do.

With the occorites momentarily behind them, she put her full focus onto the bubbling brew contained in her dusky orange cauldron.

EIGHTEEN

With the battle paused, Parriel slumped forward, Wexel nuzzling his cheek as the enchanter panted. Being of little use in direct combat, Parriel had pitched in by enhancing every weapon handed over. They were quick jobs, little more than bursts of directed mana infusion, but each bit of power helped when facing such overwhelming numbers.

Many of those nearby rushed over to the alchemists that Captain Sharshaw mentioned, though Parriel remained leaned against the barrel where his legs had given out. Grade One healing potions was all they were likely to have, and those wouldn’t do anything for the fatigue that had accumulated out of pushing his reserves. Mana was not some static number. Like any part of a person, more results could be squeezed out through effort and willpower. But there was a limit, and stretching too far beyond it was likely to leave one weakened, just like tearing a muscle from lifting too much weight.

“Somehow, I knew I’d find you like you this.”

Yorian lowered into view, Gurgenforth’s tentacles stretching out of the portalable on the wizard’s back. Leaning over, he hefted Parriel up, propping the team’s enchanter into a standing position and holding him steady. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable. The better we rest, the more chance we’ll actually be able to do something when the occorites catch up.”

Gulping, Parriel almost let himself avoid asking the obvious question, before finding a nugget of unexpected bravery within. “You sound awfully sure of that.”

Casting a glance backward, to the swarm on the rear horizon, Yorian nodded. “I grew up on ships, remember? Ocean or sky, I know how to gauge speeds at these distances. We should go rest.”

Parriel looked to the horizon, though his attention was diverted by the line of people stretching across the deck, all waiting to purchase potions. He dearly hoped Wanda had brewed enough. If Yorian was right, they were going to need every single wizard and familiar back in fighting shape, and soon.

The potions were taking too long.