Stormlands ( Book 2 of the Torrent Skies Saga)

Chapter Twenty: Heat

The tenday passed slowly, and anticipation rose in Katerin. Jon had woken on the third day and was back to acting his normal self. In addition, using magic, Roahn's strength, and Huen's ingenuity, the repairs on the ship were completing faster than expected. In a few more days they would be ready to get back on the water.

So today, she would summon a demon.

Memories of her past experience flooded her mind, and tied knots in her stomach. She had learned from her last attempt that no matter the reason—good or bad—there were terrible consequences and dangers tied to every creature of the hells.

She sighed as she tightened the straps on her breastplate.

It was still strange to her, but fondly she remembered how many times this breastplate had saved her life already. It might be heavier, hotter, and slightly more cumbersome—but it had saved her skin and her pride more than once. The tournament would have had a much different outcome had Fykes not convinced her to better prepare and helped her find a suitable set that was not too heavy, yet not too thin.

Her reverie of memories came to an end as she rapped lightly on the frame of the sleeping quarters. Jon appeared in his usual showmanship, appearing in the doorway with a flourish and a tip of his purple hat.

"Are you ready?" Katerin asked, doing her best to keep her expression serious. Of course Jon was in a theatrical mood, when he knew very well his life was going to be a pawn in a very dangerous situation.

"Of course, my lady. Who am I to keep you waiting." Jon grinned and grabbed his weapons belt from behind the door. "This'll be a story for the ages!"

"One that I'm sure you'll over embellish. Just like you winning a certain competition we had."

"But I did win! Ask anyone, and that's what they'll tell you. Joneth Mayor is the best knife flinger around."

"Because you lied about it."

"No, no. I simply embellished." He winked.

Katerin sighed and shook her head. "Everyone's waiting for us."

Jon's theatrical smile faded. "Where do you need me?"

"For the spell I need you close to me, but as soon as it's done, get as far away as possible."

"It'll be right in front of you?" Jon's eyes widened.

"Yes, if the spell works." She straightened her shoulders. "So, I would hope so."

Jon let out a dry chuckle. "Something's not right with your mind."

"I suppose you would know." She smirked.

"I'll make sure to piss it off from a distance, then. Do you know how it'll fight?"

"I have no idea of its caliber or ability. It may use magic, weapons—hell, it might fight with something we've never seen before."

Jon's grin returned. "A story for the ages," he repeated.

"I'll agree, when it's dead and we can sit around our fire and laugh about it."

"We will."

But you don't really know, she thought. She said nothing as they left the ship and let the sand shift beneath their boots.

Roahn, Arjiah, and Brazen waited patiently near the line of tall, rough barked trees—checking weapons and preparing.

Fykes was not far from them, shoveling the remaining contents of another plate of food down. Some of the dwarves had wondered why they were lower on supplies then they had calculated, and Katerin was sure of the reason. The dwarves had not under-prepared, but the people she traveled with could eat a tavern out of business in a day if they wished.