The ship shuddered, as if she had received a death blow. Kall-Su hit the wall across from his cabin and pressed there, clutching at wood to keep from falling. Even if the ship had not been tossing wildly, his balance had fled along with stable vision, a calm stomach and his innate ability to fight off vertigo. His legs threatened to give out. He couldn't quite focus on the narrow hall way leading to the upper hatch. Water splashed down from the closed hatchway. He felt magic in the air. Ripping, angry magic both familiar and foreign.
Then suddenly it was gone. Just gone and the air was left static and wrathful in its wake. The ship still tossed. The seas still beat against her sides mercilessly. The foreign magic was still there, a faint undertone. But the familiar was gone. Panic wrestled its way past the sickness. He clawed for the stairs leading up to the hatch. Lost his footing once as the ship rocked and banged his shin painfully. Cursing under his breath he pushed the hatch up and was hit with a deluge of rain and wave spray.
There was darkness on deck. The sun was blotted out by the cover of a raging storm. The waves reared taller than the ship and she rode their swells only grudgingly. Water crashed down onto the deck and Kall clung to the deck hatch. Vaguely he saw the mute figure of a man swept overboard. The power of the ocean's wrath was smothering. He could feel it past the sea sickness, past the healing channels of his magic. She was angry and vengeful and wanted a sacrifice to soothe her irritation.
Something dark rode the swells with their ship, side by side. Through the water and hair streaming into his eyes he made out the shape of another ship, her sails tightly furled, her rail almost touching the rail of their vessel. He ought to do something, with the pirate ship so close, but he was having a hard time thinking past the fevered pounding of the blood in his head.
A shape came at him out of the grayness. The old captain, limping and desperate, a boathook in one hand.
"You've got to do something ---" the man cried in desperation and then gagged and staggered, plunging forward, the makeshift weapon falling from his hand. There was a man behind him, bearded and dark skinned, a dull curved sword in his hand. The blade was lifted. Kall struggled for concentration and cried out the first words that came to mind. The air, which was too moist by far, was easily to manipulate. A spear of ice erupted from the space between Kall-Su's hands and hurtled into the pirate's chest. The man toppled backwards.
Kall-Su staggered to his feet, staring wildly into the darkened sky.
"Schneider, where are you?" He cried into the storm. He made his way towards the prow, clutching at the rail. A great wave crashed over the prow, threatening to tear him from his feet. A man stood in its wake, holding onto nothing. He should have been washed away. Another wave washed over the plunging prow, and the water seemed to almost part to avoid him. Kall-Su stared, sensing not magic, but communion. Then something solid and hard slammed into him from behind and that combined with what the sea had done to his constitution sent him over the edge into oblivion.
There was a terrible pain in his chest and a bitter bile in the back of his throat. Schneider gasped and bolted upright, hacking up salt water and what seemed a good portion of his lungs. He doubled over, coughing, struggling for precious air. It took a moment to get it. And then he drew in great lungfuls of the stuff, momentarily aware of nothing but the fact that he was alive and not underwater.
He was in darkness. Pitch, sordid darkness that was laced with humidity and cold. He lifted his hands to his face and they jangled. Weight dragged at his wrists. There was a wall to his right and he leaned against it, trying to get his bearings, trying to gather his wits. It stank of wet straw and animal feces. The smell made his stomach turn. The bile in his throat grew hotter. No. He did not want to throw up.
His body paid him no heed. All the sea water he'd swallowed came up along with the acid contents of his stomach. It hurt more coming up than it had going down. He tried to crawl away from it when he'd done, but the chains on his wrists wouldn't let him go far and the weakness in his head and body was not ready to give up its claim and allow him to remedy the situation. His leg throbbed with pulsing pain. He felt around the edges of a wet, jagged wound. Felt a splinter of what might have been bone. He shuddered. He hated touching his own bone almost as much as he hated actually seeing it. He pulled his hands away, taking long breaths to quell another rebellion by his stomach. Just a minute to gather his strength. He rested against the grainy wall and silently cursed.
It was damned hard to think when he wanted to go and crawl under a rock somewhere, but he forced concentration and summoned a witchlight. It came merrily at his summons, and bobbed sickeningly in the air before his face. With a hiss he made it stay still. He was in a cramped, low ceilinged room. There were a handful of pigs settled down in the straw not five feet from him. Beyond that barrels and wooden cages full of various small domesticated animals. He blinked at the accommodations, then looked down at the manacles on his wrists that were in turn attached to a chain running along the wall.
"They must be kidding." He muttered, then spoke a word of unlocking and the bracelets fell away. It took a bit more concentration to do a healing. He shut his eyes and thought about the wound and the shattered bone and torn flesh and what it ought to be like. Sluggishly flesh and blood knit. He rubbed his leg in irritation that it had taken so long for such a simple healing. He'd recovered from worse with no effort whatsoever.
He pushed himself to his feet and found he had to crouch. The ceiling was no more than five feet. He put a hand to the sore spot on the top of his skull received from that discovery. His hair was mildly damp. His clothes were still a little clammy from the ocean. He had not been here long then. He tried to recall being fished out of the sea and couldn't. He didn't think he'd done it on his own. His head hurt and not from the bump on the ceiling. He'd hit it when he was underwater ----
--- on the great sinking shape of a ship. His ship obviously since this one seemed to belong to an enemy that thought they could contain him with simple chains. Goddamnit. His heart slammed against his ribs in sudden panic. If Kall-Su had gone down on that ship -- he didn't even take the time to contemplate the vengeance he would take.
The small door out of the hold slammed open, shattering, without him even touching it. His witchlight followed him along the narrow, low ceilinged hall. A sailor came out of a door further up the corridor, saw him and jabbered something unintelligible. The man made to grab for a weapon at his belt. Schneider lifted a hand and pure, contained energy formed.
"How slow do you want to die?"
His words might not have been understood, but the intent was more than clear. The dark eyes widened and the man scampered up the hall before him, screaming in his foreign tongue.
He must have been in a lower hold, for he climbed a ladder to a second level that might have been crews quarters. There were men in the hall with blades out, drawn by the cries of the first sailor. Belligerently, they blocked his path. They were as good a source for information as any, if any of them spoke his language.
"Where are the men from my ship? Do you understand? Anyone that doesn't can die right now." He grinned ferally and singled out a man with a wickedly curved sword closest to him. It took more effort than he generally had to exert for a simple spell. It felt as if the powers that be -- namely the surrounding ocean -- were pulling against him.
The pirate's skin began to smoke and blister. The man screamed, dropping his blade and shaking his blackening hands. The men around him shied away, making signs against evil. The unfortunate man was writhing on the floor, oozing blackened flesh and blood by the time Schneider voiced his question again.
"Did you take prisoners from the ship you sank? Or shall the lot of you meet his fate?"
"I don't think they will." The sailors muttered in relief among themselves and moved aside to make way for a weaponless man. Tall, thick bodied with muscle, with the aura of health and vitality in the sparkle of his dark eyes and the whiteness of his grin. A trim beard covered his jaw and his hair was cut close to his head. There was nothing familiar about the man save the scent of power that radiated from him. This was the man who had directed the ocean's wrath during the battle. This was a man that in this particular place, in the midst of his element, was a power to be reckoned with.
"I did not expect to see you awake so soon." The dark eyes looked him up and down, ignoring the threatening glower in Schneider's stare. He spoke with a slight accent, but otherwise he was perfectly understandable. "You were rather thoroughly drowned."
"Where -- the fuck are the people from my ship?" He ground the words out, gathering power as he did.
"What will you do? Blast this ship out from under us all? Will you kill yourself in a fit of rage? For that is what will happen, if you sink this vessel. The mother sea will not allow you to escape her again. She gave you back only grudgingly and only because I promised her many sacrifices to get you. She ate your ship and the men on board and she was sated."
Schneider's eyes grew wide. "You son of a ---"
"Ah, but not the other kafir djinn." The man cut him off. "I would not throw to the ocean something so valuable as the two of you. There is a market for such things."
"Where the hell is he at?" Schneider stalked forward and men didn't know whether to move and let him past for stand their ground and protect their captain. The captain waved a hand and relieved them of the dilemma. They backed away, giving Schneider wide berth. He stood nose to nose with the other man. He was marginally taller, but not by much. The captain was grinning at him.
"Jamad ja'da." He said in his own language and the men murmured around him. "Well, then shall we prepare to meet the ocean, the lot of us? It would not be a bad fate for men such as us, who live our lives upon her surface. Is it one you wish to meet?"
"Push me much further and I may take the chance. Take me to my friend."
The swarthy captain shrugged, put a hand on Schneider's shoulder and moved him out of his path. "Follow me then." The captain said, ignoring the glare he got for daring to lay a hand on Dark Schneider. "My name, by the way, is Amir. This is my ship."
"I don't give a fuck who you are." Schneider snarled.
"You have a foul tongue, Jamad ja'da." Captain Amir chided, leading the way back down into the hold. They both had to duck to walk. They took a different route from the one Schneider had exited from and were plunged into darkness. Before Schneider could call up his witchlight, a bluish green glow popped into existence in the air before the captain. Almost the smell of sea salts and the faint sound of water came with it.
There were more pilfered goods, but no animals. No captured slaves either, just at the end of an empty line of chain, one still figure. Schneider hissed and stalked over, crouching beside him. He touched a thin line of crusted blood along Kall's temple, a slight swelling above his ear. That was a wound Schneider could fix. The rest was the result of the cursed ocean and not correctable. No more than he could alter her effects on himself.
"Kall?" He called and forced the issue when Kall-Su didn't wake up with a twinge of magic. Kall's lids flickered. He looked up blearily, focused on Schneider briefly, then with a moan of purest wretchedness passed back out.
Schneider sat back, a flicker of worry crossing his face. Now that his initial panic over whether Kall was at the bottom of the ocean or not had passed, some bit of reason came back and with it, the realization of just how correct this captain Amir was in his assumptions. What did it matter if Schneider could blow this ship out of the water, if he found himself adrift without it as a result? Under the best of circumstances it was too far to fly back to shore, much less with the ocean against him and Kall-Su as good as useless. He glanced back up to Captain Amir gaugingly. The man didn't posture like a man trying to impress his power upon another, which worried Schneider. The quiet ones were often the most dangerous. The one's that didn't brag, that only subtly presented possibilities were the ones that usually held true power. He'd already tasted a bit of it himself. He could take this man closer to shore, maybe even here in the midst of his element, but at the moment, it would do him no good.
"What the hell do you want?" Schneider snapped, angry at his limited options.
Captain Amir lifted a dark brow. "It is you who were following me. What do you want?"
"Where are your slaves? You seem to be lacking."
"I gave them all to my associate, who is traveling to a port that deals in slaves. I'm going to another. You're the only two I have."
Schneider laughed outright. "You're dreaming."
"Not at all. As I said, there is a high demand for Djinn, foreign or not. I'll get more gold for one of you than my fellow captain will for all his hold full of slaves. Not to mention your uniqueness."
"What?"
"Jamad ja'da."
Schneider stared at him blankly.
"Hair of ice. I've never seen the like on a body that wasn't wrinkled and bent with age. Extraordinary."
Schneider lifted a brow sardonically. "Interesting. I'll keep it in mind. If you think you're going to make a profit off either of us, you're crazed."
Captain Amid shrugged, as if it were of no consequence. "We shall see."
Schneider sniffed and touched the manacles around Kall-Su's wrists. They fell off, clattering dully to the deck. He hauled Kall up and over a shoulder, which was a damn inconvenient way to walk under the low ceiling. Amir followed him.
"Where will you go?"
"Up."
"Into the air, or the sea?"
"Shut up."
Schneider didn't attempt to climb the ladder out of the hold, just levitated up. The crew made way for him, standing by and watching as he made his way to the deck, followed by their captain. He let Kall down on a pile of canvas, and turned in a wary circle to observe his world. They were in the midst of repairing the secondary mast he had destroyed. The men working paused in their labors to stare at him. He thought about ways he could force this crew into turning this ship about and taking them home. Kill the captain and the rest might be more malleable.
Amir moved up beside him at the rail.
"They'll die before they bow to an unbeliever, you know." The captain said, as if he'd read Schneider's thoughts. "They are not the soft, pale sailors of your land."
He didn't respond. He knew stubborn men that had broken under the type of pain he knew how to deliver.
"Kafir Djinn!!" A shrill voice screamed. Schneider and the captain turned. A battered, sailor holding the stump of one arm hovered over Kall-Su, a sword raised in his remaining hand. Schneider let out a hiss and an explosive burst of energy. It hit the pirate, and crashed him backwards into barrels of water. One burst from the impact and leaked the precious fresh fluid over the deck. He took a step forward to finish the job and Amir caught his arm, swinging him around roughly. He snarled, ready to cast a similar spell on the captain, but the man's eyes blazed and flashed a sudden, eerie seagreen. A sheer wall of water rose along the port side, rearing up taller than the main mast, pulsing and roaring in its sheer power. Threatening to smash down upon the deck, waiting for the command. Schneider stared up at it, ocean magic still managing to shock him.
"Do not." Amir said softly. "You will not threaten this ship or those upon it under my protection or the ocean will have you and that which you value."
"Then keep your men away from him."
"Ah, but he is not my man. He captained the ship which you made me sink. Perhaps it was your friend who took his arm? Vengeance is expected for such a thing, is it not? I would let him have it, save for the lost gold. A rawa golden djinn is as valuable as a silver one, no?"
The wave shuddered over them. He had to wonder if it would be selective in those it washed away. He rather thought it would. Slowly Schneider inclined his head. "All right. I won't sink your ship or kill your crew. For the moment. Don't press me, though. And don't touch anything of mine." He jerked his chin back towards Kall-Su.
The captain lifted a dubious brow. "You are bold to present me with such ultimatums."
Schneider shrugged. "Give me a cabin. With a port. I despise not being able to see the sky."
Amir laughed outright, a deep brass sound that grated on Schneider's nerves. "So very bold. All right, you're worth enough to me to give you such a thing."
"Whatever."
Amir called to his mate to see that a adequate cabin was emptied. Some ship's mate would be sleeping with the common sailors for the rest of the journey. Schneider could have cared less. He walked over to Kall, who had rolled over to his side and was making little gagging sounds. He ignored him and stared down at the one armed sailor who was slowly regaining consciousness.
The man glared up at him balefully, then past him to Kall-Su. He spat out something in his foreign tongue. It sounded threatening and contemptuous.
"Go ahead and try something else." Schneider suggested softly. "And I promise you I'll make what he did to you seem like a blessing from your god."
"Jima al Ju'al." The man spat.
Captain Amir walked up beside Schneider and said something sharply. The one armed pirate scowled and limped away.
"What did he say?" Schneider asked.
"He told you to have sex with a dung beetle. One would hardly think it possible. I told him that the two of you were my captives and for him to harm you would be an affront against me."
"As if he could." Schneider sniffed. "And I'm not."
"Of course." Captain Amir agreed. "I will show you where you may sleep. Shall I have someone bring your friend."
"Don't touch." Schneider warned and went to get Kall-Su himself.
It was a very small cabin with a narrow bunk against the wall and a storage locker by the door. A bucket beside it and a hook on the wall over the bed that held a folded hammock. That was it. There was a small port over the bed. The only luxury. He dropped Kall carelessly onto the bunk and turned to fix the captain with his glare. "How long before we reach land?"
Amir grinned. "I'm sorry, but I cannot tell you that." And with that he shut the door and disappeared. Schneider stood fuming. There was a noise behind him. Kall-Su trying to push himself up. Very green about the face. Schneider pushed the bucket towards him with his foot, though he doubted he had anything left to throw up. He tried anyway, then sat bent over his knees at the end of the bunk, shivering.
Schneider sniffed warily, the sound of gagging having made his own stomach ill at ease. "I wish you'd stop doing that." He complained. He plopped down at the other end of the bunk and pushed himself back into the corner, preparing to sulk. Kall turned his hanging head marginally to look at Schneider. Hair separated from dried salt water did a good job of hiding his face.
"If I could help it, I would." He managed to sound testy, even in his weakness. "What -- happened?"
"You don't know?"
No answer, just a reproachful glare.
"We caught the pirates. They sank our ship. All your pitiful little fishercrew is at the bottom of the ocean. We're stuck with the pirates."
"Lily?" Kall managed to lift his head, some bit of hopefulness breaking past the misery in his eyes.
"No Lily. No captives at all. We got the wrong ship."
"Oh --- god." Kall moaned, sagging back against the wall. He stared blindly past Schneider for a moment, even the green tinge fled from his skin. Then he leaned into his corner at the foot of the bed, arms around his legs, face hidden against knees.
"I wish I were dead, then I wouldn't have to worry about it." He murmured.
Schneider glared at him. "The seasickness is making you say that. And even though it is your fault and I do blame you --- well, don't worry about it. We'll find your damned woman. I promise."
"I don't believe in miracles anymore. I know better."
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, considering you know me. God, you're so morose when you're like this."
"Like what?" Kall almost laughed, but it turned into a little groan. "So sick I want to die?"
"Yes. Like that."
"Why aren't you?"
"What? Sick or morose?"
Kall lifted his head to peer over his knees. He didn't need to answer. Schneider knew what he meant. And it was just a matter of time before the sea worked her way on him as well. He was just better at fighting it off than Kall-Su was. But he felt it. And every league they sailed further into the sea put him more and more at the mercy of the men who rode her.