A scholar who reveres wizards and a street rat who despises them both find themselves apprenticed to a mage with a dark storied past and discover he is not what either of them expected. They may end up learning more from each other than they do from...
Quinn watched the small approaching ship grow steadily larger and less distant. The captain barked orders as the crew attempted to change the heading of the Ruby Cutlass, but it was clear to all aboard from the speed of the interceptor that they would not evade it.
Atticus had climbed the rigging, hauling himself up the ratlines with impressive speed to get a better look at the ship, which bore no standard as it cut fiercely across the waters. Quinn was in awe of his ease navigating the ropes.
Landing back on the deck with a thud, he wiped the sweat off his brow. "It matches the reports we received. I believe these are the pirates we are here to eliminate. If we're lucky, we can end this now."
Trina and the other two members of the Ordo gathered around. The older woman nodded. "Sounds good to me. Less time at sea would do my insides a kindness."
Atticus turned with a concerned look and raised an eyebrow at Quinn. "We can't do this without you. If we're going to intimidate them, we're going to need a show of force and threats they can't ignore. I know you said—"
Quinn shook her head. "I know what I have to do. But I don't like it."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Quinn quickly learned she did not like cannons. They were very loud and produced a lot of smoke. There was only one on the Ruby Cutlass, which the crew had pushed to a position on the starboard bow to fire at the interceptor, albeit unsuccessfully. The approaching ship presented a narrow profile, while its own guns took advantage of the Cutlass' exposed broadside. Quinn winced every time she heard the hull splinter from another impact.
Several of the ship's crew were watching her as if they expected her to call down a storm to destroy the interceptor or throw fireballs as if they were pebbles. Quinn had only a rudimentary understanding of combat magic and the dangers inherent. With more training, such feats might be possible, but even if she had the skill, the mere thought of throwing magic around so haphazardly was revolting to her.
The deck beneath Quinn's feet shook as the ship took another hit. There was screaming. And there was fire. Turning to the confusion, she saw what remained of the ship's cannon, destroyed by a lucky hit from the interceptor. Pieces of iron littered the deck, Sailors were screaming. One appeared blinded; another was missing an arm and laying on the deck screaming with a blistered face. Quinn wanted to look away, but the deck was on fire, and she needed to do something about it quickly.
Reaching out with her awareness in the weave, she found the threads of fire that threatened the ship. She might be slow in being able to generate a fire, but putting one out was much easier. Still, a transference was preferable. Instead of pulling the threads out of the weave, she could reweave them elsewhere, doing less damage to the integrity of the magical barrier. She concentrated on pulling the threads and rebinding them.
Within moments, the fire on the deck of the ship subsided as the crew of the interceptor began shouting and pointing at the foresail, which had inexplicably burst into flame. Pirate crew scrambled to douse the flame with buckets.
