Chapter 12

The Flame Within the Sea

After an hour's ride on the enchanted current, the merman and three humans made it safely back to the Splinter just as the eastern horizon was beginning to blush rose and orange with the approaching sunrise. Clay and his friends climbed up to the main deck and sat on the edge so they could still talk to Oliver down below.

Clay was in an especially gloomy mood. With another opportunity seeming to have gone up in flames, their alternatives were looking worse by the minute. There were two main groups they hoped would come to their aid: the humans and the merfolk. The humans were still unaware of Flameheart's return to the sea, and Flameheart obviously wanted to keep it that way until the time was right. If Clay and his friends tried convincing others that the evil skeleton was back and up to no good, who would believe them? Also, thanks to Captain Riley, there was now a bounty on Clay and Wooly, meaning they could not dare to show their faces again for fear of being captured. On the other hand, the merfolk were under the impression that the four of them were spies for Flameheart. Now King Oceanus undoubtedly wanted them killed on sight.

Wooly noticed his friend's downtrodden state and rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Clay. Maybe the merfolk won't join our cause, but as long as we put our minds to it, we'll make it all work out somehow."

"But like Flameheart said in my last dream, how are we going to defeat his entire army?" Clay fretted.

"We don't," Oliver pointed out. "If we can avoid the army and eliminate Flameheart directly, his followers will fall apart."

"Quite literally, I imagine," Matt chuckled.

"True," Clay admitted. "But we don't have the dagger. It's still out there in the shroud somewhere, and now that the merfolk have refused to help, we won't be able to find it."

"Not all the merfolk have refused," Oliver reminded him. "It's a large task, but I'm ready and willing whenever you are."

"Is there some way we can help you?" Matt asked.

Oliver shook his head. "Those charms I gave you will still provide you with air, but they won't protect you against the effects of the shroud like the enchanted currents." He looked thoughtful. "Although, I think I know of a way to upgrade your shells; however, it will involve giving up our ability to travel quickly via currents."

Wooly cast a questioning glance at both Clay and Matt. "Should we do it?"

Clay nodded. "The currents are fast, but at this point, locating the dagger is our top priority."

"Give me your necklaces, then," the merman instructed. All three undid the clasps behind their necks and dropped the bright pink shells into Oliver's outstretched hands. Next he pulled out his spiral sky-blue shell and held it up so that Matt could take it. "Find some way to grind it to a fine powder." Matt rifled around in the hold until he found a strip of cloth and a hammer. He wrapped the shell in the fabric and began using the hammer to reduce it nearly to dust.

Holding the cloth at its corners, Matt held it out for Oliver to take. The merman opened the pink shells and carefully sprinkled three equal dustings of the sky-blue powder into each shell before sealing them shut once more. After whispering a few incantations over each, he handed them back to the three humans.

"Done," he declared. "Since each pink shell has only a fraction of the blue shell's power, you may still experience slight headaches or nausea. Overall, the effects from the shroud will be reduced far below fatal levels."

After a brief breakfast of fruit and other provisions from the ship's food barrels, Matt piloted the ship farther away from the island. "We were incredibly lucky that the volcano on Devil's Thirst didn't erupt and sink her," he pointed out. "Let's try to eliminate that risk altogether."

Once the sloop had been anchored at a safer distance to the west, the three humans each took a satchel packed with a few pieces of fruit, strapped on their swords, and reloaded their flintlocks. Once their provisions were ready, they jumped into the sea once more.

Wooly gave some special instructions to Oliver. "Since you can swim the fastest, run a relay between the three of us. That way, if one of us finds something, the others can be notified and swim to the site as well."

Clay, Matt, and Wooly spread out with Wooly beginning his search to the east, Matt swimming due south, and Clay veering away to the west. Oliver followed Matt first. The four of them had predicted that something as small as a rowboat would not have been able to travel far through the shroud before sinking: perhaps one-fourth of a nautical mile at most. It was still a great distance to cover by simply swimming, but there was no other alternative. The humans began weaving back and forth along the ocean floor as they searched with Oliver traveling his dutiful circuit between them to monitor their progress.

The hours dragged by. Just as Oliver had warned, Clay, Wooly, and Matt were all experiencing a dull but definite throbbing in their skulls and a squeamish sensation in their stomachs. Each had one hand ready to grab their sword or pistol if any hostile sea creatures appeared. Since they were traveling alone except for Oliver's occasional appearance, everyone was tense.

Around two o'clock that afternoon, Clay was fighting his way through a thick swathe of seagrass when something tapped him on the shoulder. Startled, the boy whipped around with his sword in hand to find Oliver with an enormous smile spread across his face.

Clay took a deep breath and lowered his weapon. "Oliver, don't do that! I could have-"

"Yes, I know. I am sorry," the merman apologized quickly. "Come with me! Wooly has found the rowboat!"

His heart racing with excitement, Clay began following Oliver eastward. If Wooly had indeed found the rowboat, then the dagger wouldn't be far away. After about ten minutes of swimming, Clay spotted Matt and Wooly waiting up ahead.

"Did you really find it?" Clay asked, his heart rising.

Matt nodded. "It seems so, but we have a bit of a problem." He pointed to the ground. Apparently the rowboat had once been resting on the seafloor, but the volcanic activity from the Devil's Roar had caused a huge chasm to open below it. The small craft had fallen in, and to make matters worse, the natural upheaval also dislodged a large boulder nearby that was now resting on top of the small crevice. Wooly had spotted the boat through a tiny gap no bigger than a human head between the bottom of the boulder and the sea floor.

"Everyone grab on to the rock, and let's see if we can move it," Wooly decided. All four of them took a firm grip on the boulder and heaved with all their might. The obstruction did not move an inch. They made several more attempts with the same results. The boulder simply would not budge.

"Now what do we do?" moaned Clay as he slumped against the rock. "If we don't hurry, considering all the volcanic activity, the chasm may get bigger, and this boulder could fall in and crush the rowboat."

"Is there anything that could be used for leverage?" Matt wondered.

"I'm quite sure it would take something roughly the size of a sloop's mast to move that thing without breaking," Wooly pointed out. "And how would we get something that big into the correct position anyway?"

"Perhaps Clay could use the power from his curse," Oliver suggested. "He would have to be careful with it, though. Just as the trident was destroyed, he could accidentally destroy his pendant, and without it, he would not be able to breathe or resist the effects of the shroud around us."

"But that's the problem: I don't know how to be careful," Clay sighed. "I was just panicking when the megalodon attacked us and had no idea this curse could be so lethal. What am I supposed to do, anyway? Lift the boulder? Blow it up?"

"It's possible you could lift it," Oliver surmised. "Instead of channeling that power through something like a trident to be expelled, use it for yourself."

Clay was silent for several seconds. There were three possible outcomes. The first was that he wouldn't be able to call upon his potential, and the boulder would remain where it lay. The second scenario involved him unleashing too much power and destroying his or even his friends' pendants. Third, if he was blessed by some miracle, he could move the boulder safely. Technically, the odds were not in his favor.

"I'll try," he finally sighed. "I can't guarantee a good outcome, but I'll do my best."

"Attaboy!" Wooly praised, giving him a hearty pat on the back. All four of them moved into their positions and gripped the boulder underneath. "Count us down, lad!"

Clay took a deep breath. "One… two… three!"

All four pulled and strained until they turned purple in the face. As Clay struggled to do his own part, he could feel his muscles beginning to ache. He needed to find that reservoir of power. But how? His mind flashed back to defeating the megalodon and the encounter with the hellhound. By now, he was quite convinced that experience above the Glorious Sea Dogs Tavern had also been tied to his curse. The creature must have deemed him as some kind of ashen overlord and attempted to save him.

What did these events have in common? In both scenarios, he had cried out in fear and desperation, making it seem as though his powers were triggered like adrenaline. However, there was nothing to stimulate fear now, and was fear really the best way? If he could only summon his potential through feeling afraid, wouldn't he become more vulnerable to the curse's negative effects. Fear could no longer be an option. He had to find another way.

Where should his motivation come from? Perhaps some simple imagery would work. Clay squeezed his eyes shut and tried to envision what he wanted: rolling the boulder away from the crevice. It was difficult to concentrate, for it seemed as though the moment he closed his eyes, Flameheart's leering face was burned into the back of eyelids.

You are doomed to fail, boy! Clay's insecurities seemed to have taken on Flameheart's voice, and more jeers and taunts began pricking his subconscious like needles.

Do you really think you can control this power? You are a mere mortal. What would you know about such potential? Give up now, or you will die knowing that all your struggles were in vain!

Clay tried to ignore this barrage of doubts, but they continued to gnaw away at his resolve like rats at a bag of grain. Finally, he knew it had to stop. Without opening his eyes, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "Enough, Flameheart! You can try to tear me apart from the inside with your curse all you want, but this is where I say it will end!"

Suddenly, it felt as though a great weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. It happened so abruptly that he staggered and fell to his hands and knees, gasping for breath. He opened his eyes to see Wooly, Matt, and Oliver staring at him in round-eyed amazement.

"I'm sorry if my yelling upset you," Clay mumbled in apology.

"The rock… you just moved it all by yourself!" Wooly burst out. The boy looked behind him and realized that he was right. The chasm was now fully uncovered.

"Did I do that?" Clay asked in awe.

Matt nodded. "We decided to take a break before trying again, and the three of us had let go of the rock. Just as we did, you started yelling, and your whole body started shining with some fiery glow. Before any of us could believe what we were seeing, you had lifted the rock up another four feet, and it rolled away from the crevice."

Clay just stood there, staring at his graying hands with the glowing orange scars. He had done it! He had managed to summon his powers without being afraid. Flameheart's voice had certainly tried to break his resolve, but he simply used it as something to fight against: something to direct that energy towards.

Clay started laughing, softly at first, until it grew into the triumphant, joyous laugh of someone who has just crossed the finish line of a marathon. His friends were somewhat confused by this new outburst and gave quiet chuckles of their own just to keep him company. When their eyes met, and all four realized the unexpected awkwardness of the situation, the dam burst. They roared with side-splitting laughter that had them doubled over and coughing. After multiple consecutive days of living on the run, it was a refreshing respite from the tension and nerves the four companions had suffered from.

Oliver was the first to regain his composer. "Well… I certainly needed that. Now, if we can return to the task at hand, let's get a closer look at that rowboat."

The four companions descended into the chasm below and towards the battered remains of the rowboat. The vessel's wood was chipped and scarred all over, and a large hole could be seen at the stern. Inside the boat lay the skeletal remains of Captain Magnum. Just as Madame Olwen's story had foretold, the body was surrounded by a cutlass, a tankard, and a sealed bottle of notes. All of these relics, including the rowboat and skeleton, were thickly encrusted with barnacles. Clasped in the skeleton's bony hands was the enchanted obsidian dagger. Unlike everything else, no barnacles were clinging to the weapon. The amber brimstone set into the hilt was glowing and pulsing slightly as though it were breathing, and it shed a fierce light that lit up the cramped space like a lantern. The symbol of the phoenix was still clearly visible as well.

"We've found it!" Clay exclaimed jubilantly. "After all these centuries… I almost hate to disturb it." A troubled expression passed over his face like a cloud. "But it must be done. This is the only way we can defeat Flameheart once and for all."

Wooly reached out, gently plucked the dagger from the skeleton's bony grasp, and turned the weapon over in his hands before tucking it into his belt. "Why would they craft a dagger out of obsidian?" he mused aloud. "Obsidian is actually quite brittle like glass. It would hardly suffice as a dependable weapon."

"Whatever enchantments it has been given have probably increased its hardness," Oliver explained. "Obsidian has been revered as an important source of nature's magic since ancient times. It is probably meant to keep the power within the brimstone contained and stable."

"Let's get back to the boat," Matt urged. "Now that we have the dagger, we need to formulate a plan to find and confront Flameheart."

The four companions swam up and out of the chasm and began the journey back to the Splinter. Thanks to Oliver's guidance, they were soon able to spot the underside of the ship's hull in the distance.

"Once we're back on board, I would like to go back to my home at Ancient Spire Outpost," Clay admitted to his friends. "My parents have no idea where I've been, and it's high time they knew my secret."

"Of course," Matt acknowledged. "It's the next outpost to the west, so it won't be too far to- '' A sound cut him off mid sentence, and it sent goosebumps rippling over Clay's skin.

"Siren song!" Oliver whispered in horror.

"Will those cursed merfolk ever leave us alone?" Wooly grumbled, checking to make sure that his pistol was loaded. Three blue sirens burst out from a thick grove of seaweed, their pointy teeth glistening. This group, unfortunately, seemed to have already composed a plan of attack. The first siren lunged at Matt, Clay, and Oliver, driving them away for a few precious seconds. Meanwhile, the other two attacked Wooly. The second siren delivered a nasty slash of claw's to his chest, and as Wooly desperately tried to repel the attack, the third siren struck. With something of a sleight of hand, the creature snatched the dagger out from Wooly's belt and began swimming away as fast as it could. The other monsters, sensing that their companion had secured the target, canceled their attacks and followed.

"The dagger! They're getting away with it!" warned Matt. He rushed to Wooly's side, for the man was still reeling from the wounds to his chest, and blood was staining the surrounding water a deep crimson.

"We must return to the boat!" Clay urged. "That's the direction they were swimming in, and we can get more rations and something to bandage Wooly's wounds."

All four began a frantic stroke toward the ship's hull and soon reached it, exhausted. As the humans hauled themselves out of the water and up the ladder to stand at the helm, they all realized they were not alone anymore. Two skeleton galleons were bearing down on them from the north. The ships were captained by none other than Captain Grimm and Red Ruth: two more of Flameheart's ashen lords.

From the front of his ship, Captain Grimm bellowed through a speaking trumpet. "You are surrounded, fools! Give yourselves up peacefully, or we shall blow your pathetic sloop out of the water!"