Princess of Wind and Sea Read online

When the prince first glimpsed the pursuing ships, he saw three vessels, the very same boats that tried to seal their fate in Le Havre. As the foes drew closer, the count increased to five. Their armaments appeared to be an equal match to their own.

  After Drayaen moved his teams into position, their assailants launched cannon fire at the Saoirse. A near hit could have exploded the gunpowder and weaponry, destroying their vessel and killing the crew. He turned pale when he thought about Aisling.

  Then he became angry.

  He gave the order to mobilize his special teams. They hurled incendiary projectiles at the encroaching boats, shredding a number of their sails. As flames engulfed portions of the ships, the attackers attempted to launch their rescue boats.

  Drayaen gave the order to fire, and the blasts tore a hole in the second vessel. Within a few minutes, his gunners had reloaded. A third vessel was hit.

  As his soldiers continued to deliver waves of firepower, he watched through his spyglass. The criminals seemed to be panicking, as they gestured toward the channel.

  Drayaen scanned the terrain and stared at the water. There were panels that looked like glass, reflecting their ships. Somehow, they created distorted views of their fleet, appearing as though they were moving in different directions. This must be the mirage that Aisling talked about, he concluded.

  In addition to the optical illusions on the side, he realized that the panels behind him also projected images at the enemy. As the attackers moved closer to the mirrors, the distressed fleet loomed large. He could hear the distant shouts from sailors who thought they were on a collision course, with their own ships.

  It appeared that the rebels had lost two boats. Another had sustained considerable damage. From what he could see, the remaining vessels were retreating. For now, he thought, these particular adversaries won’t regroup any time soon. Still, in the back of his mind, he wondered what it would take to eliminate the threat altogether.

  He thought about the King of Floe. When he finds out what happened, he’ll be consumed with fury.

  That rage, Drayaen realized, would be directed at them.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  INSIDIOUS

  Aisling ran onto the deck in time to see their foes head south. As the smoke cleared, she spotted Prince Drayaen, giving final orders to his men. They rallied around him as the armory was secured.

  As he approached her, his wild hair blew in the wind. With his feet planted in the middle of the chaos, he looked like a steely warrior emerging from a hard-won battle.

  She looked up and placed a hand on his chest. “Are you all right? How is the crew?”

  “From what I can tell, there’s minimal damage, beyond a few minor injuries.”

  “Thank you for protecting our fleet,” she said.

  “Your strategies helped a great deal. It was clear they had difficulty aiming at the target. How did you think of it?”

  “I had a vision of our ships sinking, but there was no one on board. It made me think there might be a way of creating another reality.”

  “Why were the attackers so alarmed when they looked at the channel?”

  “The mirrors, along with an infusion of warm air into the atmosphere, created the perception that our fleet was flying in the clouds.”

  Drayaen’s eyes widened. “Now I understand. There was a physical battle as well as a psychological one.”

  She nodded. “That approach worked for us in the East Kingdom. It made sense to try it here.”

  “How long before we reach Liverpool?”

  “A few hours.”

  “My instincts tell me the hostilities aren’t over.”

  “I have that same feeling.”

  “Is there anything else the dagger can tell us?” he asked.

  “I’ll try again,” she said.

  “The King of Floe has been persistent. By now, he knows we’re a worthy opponent. He’ll hit us with the unexpected.”

  “Then we’ll have to play chess. We can anticipate his moves and then make ours.”

  “One thing is clear,” Drayaen said.

  “What is that?”

  “We need to destroy the enemy. Otherwise, we’re the ones who will be annihilated.”

  Aisling nodded and clutched her necklace. It was time to mobilize all the powers she possessed.

  She sat at her desk, drumming her fingers against the wood, and surveyed the daggers in front of her.

  There were a number of ways to defeat the king, she knew, but time was running out. Once Floe realized they were still thriving, he’d try to catch them off guard. That meant she would need to fire the next strike.

  Aisling studied the swords. Each time she had issued a command, the sabers were her ally.

  One by one, she held the instruments and asked them about their powers.

  After hearing the answers, her heart raced. She could feel energy surging through her body.

  She had a plan.

  The sun had faded into the horizon, and gloom enveloped the ship. A frenzied rain drummed across the deck, merging with the spray of the seas. Despite the warmth emanating from the corner stove, a deep chill permeated the air.

  Aisling wrapped her cape around her and tucked her hands into the pockets. Her mind raced from her latest discoveries.

  Drayaen entered the room. As he peered beyond the shadowed walls, he saw her figure huddled near the fire, deep in thought.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She looked up and hurried to his side.

  “I took your advice and queried the swords.”

  “Is there anything new?”

  “It’s clear to me now that I have powers I never even dreamed of,” she said in a breathless voice.

  “What do you mean?”

  She pulled him closer to the fire. “I have the ability to transport people through time and space,” she murmured. “To summon them.”

  “How is that even possible?”

  “I don’t know. But the second dagger that I found at the pirate’s camp—the one that the King of Floe is so anxious to steal—has this special magic.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “This is our chance. We’ve been on the defensive for months. You said so yourself. Now we can confront him, once and for all.”

  “You’re thinking of bringing him here?”

  She nodded. “We need to do something drastic. Given his personality, I expect he’ll attack us first. He likes to throw stones in the water and create ripples. That means he’ll inundate us with problems.”

  “How?”

  “There might be a physical battle, but we’ve proven to be a worthy opponent. He may use his powers of disinformation to inflict damage.”

  “A repeat of our encounter in Le Havre?”

  “It’s possible. He could persuade the authorities to quarantine or confiscate our cargo, under the guise that it’s tainted.”

  “I’m worried about the risk. You’ve never tried such a feat. What if this approach threatens your safety, or that of the crew? It feels too dangerous.”

  “I know. It’s a risk. But if we don’t stop him now, he’ll have more time to plan against us.”

  “We’ll need a backup plan.” Drayaen ran a hand through his hair.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know. If disaster strikes, and his power is too strong to handle, is there something you can do to give us an advantage?”

  “There might be. I need to give it some thought.”

  He frowned and paced in front of the window. After a few minutes, he looked down, his eyes locking with hers. “What can I do?”

  “Talk with Ryen, Sean, and the colonel. We need their help.”

  “All right. We can mobilize our soldiers once we finalize our approach.”

  “It’s now or never. With my combined powers, we’re in the best position to defeat him.”

  “Let’s hope so,” said the prince, “because there’s no room for error.”


  The men sat around the table, listening with rapt attention as Aisling described their enemy.

  “Commander, how do you know that the King of Floe will make a trip to the area?” asked Ryen.

  “I don’t know for certain,” she said, glancing at the prince, “but it may be the case. We need to be prepared.”

  “What do you suggest?” asked Sean.

  “Before reaching port, we’ll need to offload our goods.”

  “Why?”

  “Our enemy has created vicious rumors that our ships are diseased. To dock in Liverpool would be to play into his hands. If the rumors spread around the port, our ships could be quarantined for forty days, even though the accusations are false. It could create a health hazard onboard, ruin the merchandise, and delay our return home.”

  “Are we thinking of using small boats to ferry the merchandise to our buyers?”

  “It might be the safest approach.”

  “We don’t have enough vessels,” Sean said with a frown.

  “I’ve sent a message to the New Amsterdam, and our nearby friends on the Eagle.”

  “What if they’re not available?”

  “There are other allies we can approach.”

  “How about timing?” asked the colonel.

  The prince nodded. “I’ve alerted our other captains. If you can prepare the soldiers, we’ll be ready for anything. Don’t rule out another battle. This enemy is unpredictable.”

  The men scattered to execute the mission, and Drayaen turned to Aisling. “Signal when you need me,” he said, grasping her arm.

  He headed to the deck. I will keep her safe, he vowed. He wasn’t going to take any chances.

  Aisling extracted the first dagger and leaned toward her open window, raising the instrument to the sky.

  “With all my might,” she intoned, “I command that the messages to our allies are delivered, so we have support and are protected from malicious lies.” Her hand vibrated as the energy hurled out of her fingers and into the atmosphere.

  She took a deep breath and continued. “With all my power, I decree that our warehouses be hidden from view, except to our allies.”

  Her mind raced. I could try and make the buildings impervious to fire, she thought, but that would leave them vulnerable to theft and destruction. As her words died down, the dagger lit up with a radiant energy, and the emanating light hurled into the night air. At once, she felt exhilarated and apprehensive.

  They were approaching Liverpool, and time was running out.

  Rain cascaded into pelting streams as the men in the small boat approached the ship. They huddled together for refuge, their dark forms blending with the murkiness of the twilight.

  “Who goes there?” The sentry stepped forward.

  “We’re from the Eagle. Our captain received the commander’s note. We’re here to help transport your goods to shore.”

  Ryan received a signal from the lookout crew and hurried to meet the vessel.

  “Thank you for coming. How much cargo can you carry?”

  “We’re at your disposal. Whatever you need.”

  “That’s good news. Come aboard, then. Our crew can help you.”

  The men worked well into the night.

  Aisling and Ryen tracked the inventory as the prince and the colonel directed the freight transfer. On each deck, sailors scurried to offload the merchandise. A few hours later, the team boarded the throng of vessels, and the cargo made its way to the shore, just outside of port.

  That morning, the wares were delivered to grateful merchants. The prince thanked the men and distributed tokens of appreciation.

  Aisling breathed a sigh of relief, but braced herself for what was to come next.

  *

  The King of Floe sat in his gilded chair and surveyed his minions through narrowed, serpentine eyes. He exhaled an icy breath, his blue veins pulsing in agitation. The frosty countenance matched his putrid essence, which permeated the kingdom.

  His subordinates stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact lest they be singled out. They’d learned the hard way that currying favor could be fatal.

  He turned to his Chief Enforcer. “What was the outcome of the battle?” he asked, with an imperious tone.

  His deputy sensed a seething undercurrent and realized the king already knew the answer to that question.

  “We haven’t yet secured the dagger, Your Majesty,” he said in a wavering voice. “During our attempt, there was some damage to our ships.”

  Floe glanced at the window and tapped his fingers on the armrest. Every time he thought his underlings capable of a trivial task, they proved their complete incompetence.

  “Are the goods in our possession yet?”

  The spokesman swallowed hard and shifted his gaze. “Well, um, you see, Your Majesty, our ships needed to retreat, due to the unexpected damage. And, by the way, there were some strange occurrences, although that part is a bit unclear. As far as we know, our enemy is still in possession of their goods.”

  “I don’t want excuses,” said the king, slamming his palm against the chair rail. “Find more soldiers if you must. The cargo is a mere distraction. I want that dagger.”

  “Yes, of course, all right, we’ll regroup and come up with a plan,” the enforcer said, rushing through the words.

  The king leaned forward and growled. “Get me what I want. Do it now. When you return, I expect tales of success.” He seethed as he stared off into the distance. “Return victorious or come back dead.” Floe turned his piercing gaze to his deputies. “There is no middle ground.”

  The men backed up from the throne and made a hasty retreat into the glacial mist.

  Aisling and the prince huddled over the table, deep in conversation. Drayaen stood and began to pace.

  “I don’t like it. Not at all.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Aisling. “I thought we already decided.”

  He stopped and shook his head. “I’m worried. If you deploy your magic and transport the King of Floe here, how could we explain his presence to the rest of the crew? He’ll engage us in battle, using his own powers. You’ll risk exposure and it will lead him right into the nerve center of our operation. He could kill us all.”

  “You’re right, of course. I was thinking we’d have added protection here, but I agree, it’s risky.”

  “Let’s set up an environment on shore. We’ll take the colonel and a few soldiers. If things don’t go our way, you can transport us back to the ship. We’ll have time to regroup.”

  “That does seem like a better option. Can we be ready within the hour?”

  “All right. I’ll mobilize the team.”

  “Thank you,” said Aisling, as she rested her hand on his arm.

  He nodded. “Let’s hope we’ve planned this well enough. With an enemy like the King of Floe, we’ll need to anticipate the unexpected.” As he retrieved his weapons and exited the chamber, Aisling sighed. She wanted to go home. But there was a major obstacle in her way.

  I need to resolve this once and for all, she thought, as she summoned her swords and her courage.

  A short while later, Aisling stood on a remote inlet, south of Liverpool. Their journey had been hastened by high tides and favorable winds. She scanned the terrain and glanced at the prince as he stowed the boats and organized the men around the periphery.

  “Are you ready?” she asked.

  “I was about to ask you the same question,” he said. “If you need me, send a signal.”

  “I will,” she said, hugging him.

  As soon as the soldiers were out of sight, she inhaled a deep breath and summoned two of her daggers. Grasping the handles, she intoned, “Transport the King of Floe to me, here, now.” As the pommels vibrated, she clung to the jeweled handles. The power surged out of her hand and into the air.

  Seconds later, an image appeared. At first, the grainy visage was surrounded by a brown aura, but as the outline began to fade, the mist disappeared and a figure stood
before her.

  King Floe.

  His eyebrows furrowed as he reeled around, examining the terrain. Aisling approached him with her swords extended.

  “It’s time to pay for your vile deeds. I’m here to remove your power.”

  He peered at her with his shrewd eyes. His expression turned from a scowl to one of amusement. “Your father tried to defeat me. We both know what happened to him.”

  Aisling felt like a giant weight was pulling her down into the depths. I must not get distracted, she reminded herself. He will do or say anything to deter me from achieving my goal.

  “I’m not here to talk,” she said. “I command that the source of King Floe’s wealth be sealed, so that he may no longer exploit others for his personal gain.”

  Power hurled out of the dagger and surrounded her enemy. The haziness faded.

  The sovereign laughed. “My, but you are determined. No matter what you do, you’ve already lost. I’ve damaged you in ways you’ve never imagined.”

  He’s trying to distract me from my focus, she thought. “I don’t believe it.”

  “That’s what your uncle said”—he sneered—“right before he died.”

  Aisling’s hand began to shake. Her mind reeled. Could this monster from the Realm of Ice have caused Maológ’s death? The possibility seemed unreal.

  She stared at her opponent. He reminded her of Queen Vila from the East Kingdom. They were cut from the same cloth. No injury was too great, no action too evil, if it fed their voracious need for power and advantage.

  She summoned the next sword and faced her challenger.

  “I decree that the King of Floe be sealed in a permanent chamber so that he’s no longer able to hurt others.”

  The king laughed as she pointed the wands at him. “You’re quite new at this, it seems. You don’t have the magic to make this happen. I know you don’t.”

  Aisling clung to both daggers as the air circled in a frenzied wave. Floe’s expression turned from amusement to contempt. He flashed a frigid smile. A clear wall began to form around him. His mouth became pinched as he tried to claw through the border.

  “If you let me go now,” he said, his gaze assessing the enclosing wall, “I’ll take back what I did to those who are closest to you.”