The Hydra Offensive (A Griffins & Gunpowder Novel)

By Joshua Johnson

The nation of Ansgar is divided.

In the east, King Eadric Garrard has crushed one rebellion but gets no rest as the rebellion in the West is rapidly spiraling out of control. If he can't get things in line soon, his reign could be at an end.

Raedan Clyve has traveled across the Vast Sea to secure treaties and trade. Unchecked in his studies of magic, his powers are growing beyond his control. The dark path he has set himself on leads to destruction and chaos, but is it too late to turn back?

Kyrie Salas captains the Dragon's Breath, chartered to carry the Western emissaries across the world. She sees the potential in Raedan and seeks to harness it. But will her emotions get the best of her?

War has raged, battles have been fought, and lives lost. But the conflict for the future of Ansgar is just beginning.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joshua Johnson
• Release date: Sep 21, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311786098

Joshua Johnson

Joshua was born in New York, and in his career, he specialized in understanding people and the art of persuasion.He worked in the FBI as a profiler until he decided to use his knowledge for sales and consulting.The environment, politicians, the media, advertising, and the people we deal with increasingly use techniques to direct or even manipulate us.Ignoring this information makes you easy prey and puts you and the people you care about at risk.Unfortunately, you may have noticed that the communication industry almost exclusively treats theory in a deliberately complicated way or treats the information that is not effective.Joshua has therefore selected the huge amount of information that exists, keeping only the knowledge that could be useful and codified this data to be understood by the ordinary person on the street.

Book preview

The Hydra Offensive

Joshua K Johnson

Smashwords Edition Copyright ©2013

All Rights Reserved.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

The Griffins & Gunpowder Universe

The Ansgari Rebellion

The Cerberus Rebellion

The Hydra Offensive

The Centaur Incursion (In Progress)

Collections

The Chesian Wars

Short Stories

The Red Dragon’s Gold

The Sithean Betrayal

The Gathering Storm

Chapter 01 - Kyrie

This contract had better pay off, Kyrie Salas thought as she scratched another number into her ledger. Numbers weren’t her strong suit, but even her rudimentary knowledge revealed that she was in trouble. Without the advance from the charter, she would have had barely enough coin to refit and resupply.

Too many high volume, low profit runs, she thought, trying to convince herself. In truth, a combination of factors had brought her to this point. Being a merchant captain wasn’t as difficult as it had once been. Pirates were still common in some parts of the world, but they were not the constant threat that they had once been. National navies had the dubious honor of being both a boon and a curse to the independent captain: they scared off the pirates, but they insisted that every ship be searched for contraband.

The rapid expansion of large merchant companies in every corner of the world was the driving factor in the shrinking independent market. Ports were closed to anyone without a company charter, and merchants and markets refused to buy from small shippers, lest they anger the big shipping lines.

Kyrie sighed. She lounged in a large leather chair in front of a cluttered desk. The cabin served as both her office and her bed chamber. A feather bed, a tall dresser, a pair of chests and a table and chairs were squeezed into the room. The black walls were adorned with paintings and wide windows looked out behind the vessel.

The Dragon’s Breath rocked gently as each wave lifted it slightly and let it back down. Compared to the violence of the open seas, White Ridge Harbor was quiet.

Beyond the windows, dozens of fat merchant ships, sleek schooners and frigates bristling with cannon bobbed in the harbor. Most of them flew the flags of Western Ansgari nobles, but a handful were draped with colors from across the Vast Sea.

What did dem merchants give us? First Mate Tuk Ok’aur asked. The massive, jade-skinned orc sat cross legged on the cabin floor, and his black irises were still nearly level with his captain’s. He wore a loose fitting leather vest and baggy linen trousers. His skin was etched with tattoos of a dozen different styles, criss-crossed by scars from a dozen different battles.

Kyrie looked over the numbers again and snorted. We got thirty crowns for the Arndell iron ore, Kyrie said with thinly veiled disgust.

Five years ago, those ingots would have fetched double that, she thought. Damn those Chesian mining guilds. With the threat of constant war removed from the Empire, the ancient Chesian guilds had re-emerged and reasserted their influence. The only iron selling on the other side of the Vast Sea came out of imperial mines.

On top of that, we paid out eight crowns in wages. I had to get new sails for the main mast, which cost another four crowns, and I sent Kintan’s first mate into town with five crowns for powder, shot and shell. The cost of grain and fruit here is ridiculous: it cost eight crowns to replenish our galley.

It is not the harvest yet, the orc said. And they gettin’ settled for a fight.

I suppose that’s true, Kyrie said. I had considered not buying any powder, shot or shell, but we may need our guns before this next contract is finished.

Tuk snorted. What’d you get us into this time?

The Duke of Sea Watch was looking for a swift merchant to ferry some diplomats to the other side of the Vast Sea. And to show them around.

Bah! Tuk shook his head. Carrying emissaries of the rebellion was risky. If they were boarded, the Ansgari could very well decide that the ship and crew were forfeit for siding with the traitors. I hope the pay is worth it.

It is, Kyrie promised. As first mate, Tuk’s share of the contract price would be second only to her own.

Her neck tingled behind her elongated ears and she closed the ledger. It was a feeling Kyrie had not experienced in many months. The feeling of someone else with The Gift. They were rare on this side of the world, even more so in the circles in which she traveled.

Kyrie’s long black ponytail fell down her back as she unwound herself from the chair. Our passengers have arrive, she said.

I come with you? Tuk asked.

No, I’ll bring them below. I think it will be less jarring than if they see you on the deck.

She buttoned her shirt, fluffed the silk sleeves and wrapped a thick black belt around her slender waist. A cutlass hung on one side and a holstered revolver on the other. She donned her black tricorne with ruby red trim She’d purchased the hat to compliment her similarly colored eyes. She slid a long, thin elven dagger into her boot, pulled on her brown wool jacket and stepped out of her cabin. The center deck of the ship was quiet. Most of her crew had gone ashore and the rest were on deck.

Kyrie emerged from the hold and regretted her choice of clothes. The late fall sun licked the horizon and a cool bay breeze had swept away the lingering heat of the day.

Looks like some nobles coming this way, Kintan Glace-Albert said. The ship’s master gunner had a fear about going ashore anywhere on the northern side of the Vast Sea. He was old enough to have seen all there was to see in a port, more than once. The gray at his temples had spawned streaks through the rest of his black hair. Despite his age, Kintan’s green eyes carried an energetic spark and were as sharp as any man’s could be.

Kyrie stepped to the dock-side of her ship. A handful of well-dressed men led a column of riders down the long wooden pier. Nobles, indeed.

The human at the head of the column rivaled many orcs in his height and mass. He wore a black overcoat with the image of three boulders sewn over his heart in white. His hair was a black so deep that in the afternoon sunlight, it seemed blue. He carried a staff with a large ruby stone in its head.

Another rider, slimmer with long silvery hair, followed close behind the hulking man. He had a long face and elongated ears and wore the red silk robe of an elven priest. Even at this distance, Kyrie could feel the power he emanated.

The other members of the column were of little consequence, Kyrie realized quickly as the riders came to a halt. The nobles began to dismount and she started down the gang plank to meet them. The man-mountain and the elf were at the lead.

She greeted them in perfect Ansgari, Hello!

Good day, the big man said. He was at least six and a half feet tall, two inches taller than she. Kyrie was not accustomed to feeling so short beside a mere man. We seek the captain of this fine vessel.

Kyrie cringed and anger flared in her. On this side of the Vast Sea, women captains were an oddity. Even after forty years at sea, more than a quarter of that as captain of her own vessel, she still faced bias against women aboard ship. Many men still believed that having a woman as part of the crew was bad luck.

You’ll have to forgive his lordship, the elf said as he stepped past the large man. He is still young, and not familiar with the customs of the nations across the Vast Sea.

"Honored greetings, Kyrie said in elven. She took the Elder’s hand and felt the power flowing through his veins. It was an ancient power, old beyond her comprehension. The electricity in his touch sent a shiver down her spine. I am Kyrie Salas, captain of the Dragon’s Breath."

"Honored greetings," he replied in elven, then continued in Ansgari. I am Damon Kor, and this is Baron Raedan Clyve.

My apologies, Captain, the big man said as he extended his hand.

I’m quite accustomed to the norms of Ansgar, my lord. She took his hand and her eyes widened as she felt energy flow from his touch. It was raw and wild but there was a power behind it that shocked her.

Before she had gone to sea, Kyrie had spent nearly a century at a remote monastery devoted to the study of the Shadow arts. In that time, she had come across hundreds of others who had The Gift. He was like none of them. I…

It can be discussed later, Damon said, reading her reaction. He projected calm and Raedan withdrew his hand. It is our understanding that you will be departing within the week?

Kyrie recovered her composure. That is our plan, she said. She looked at the long train of mounted soldiers. How many will we be taking on?

Three of noble birth, a dozen of their guards, Damon said.

And one of my griffins, Raedan added.

A griffin? Kyrie couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

One of my females. A smaller beast.

Interesting, Kyrie said. She had never seen one of the creatures and the possibility was intriguing.

On the other side of the Vast Sea, fantastic creatures were more common. Manticores prowled the northern mountains of Chesia, centaurs galloped across the Rhonish plains and hydras lurked in the murky waters of Ehtroy Bay. North of the Vast Sea, only griffins were known to still exist. They were increasingly rare and stayed mostly in the mountains, away from the coast.

I would like to introduce you to the other members of our party, Raedan said. Two smaller men stepped forward.

This is Sir Ahlrick Cheston. The man was nearly as tall as Kyrie, with orange hair and brown eyes — a combination Kyrie had never seen before.

I’m not quite sure how to address a female captain, the man admitted as he offered his hand. He had a humble but confident look to him, and he wore less garish clothes than he companions.

Ma’am is acceptable, Kyrie said. The man had a weak handshake and smooth hands.

Lord Pyt Ansell, Raedan continued. One of Lord Ridley’s lesser lords.

A pleasure, Ma’am. Ansell was significantly shorter than the other members of his party. His black hair was greasy and his green eyes had a quality that Kyrie couldn’t put her finger on. She’d seen her share of snobbish aristocrats to know this man took his nobility seriously and wouldn’t let anyone forget the privileges that he had been born into.

Perhaps we could retire to your cabin, Damon suggested. It has been a long, hard ride from the rail depot. I could use a drink.

You’re in luck, I took on some Kerrville brandy earlier this year. I still have some left. She led the way up the gangplank. Most of my crew is ashore, but the rest can help your guards settle in and get your luggage below decks.

Chapter 02 - Raedan

Raedan Clyve stowed his trunk in the corner of the tiny cabin and sat down on the bed — it groaned under his weight — and slipped off his boots. He ducked his head to avoid one of the ship’s beams and leaned back. He could feel the captain’s power on the other side of the wall and he tried to close his mind.

The energy in her mind was not as powerful as that in Damon’s, but there was something sharp about it. Where the power within Raedan was raw and brutish, her aura was refined and focused. Their initial meeting had been all smiles and drinks, but she had watched his every move. As far as Raedan could tell, she was a mercenary through and through. She was interested in the money and whatever it took to get it and not much else. He couldn’t blame her: she was an elf from across the sea, her people had no interest in the freedom of the Westgari people. She had to keep her people fed, her pockets full and her ship afloat.

He had far greater concerns. The success of the Westgari merchant fleet depended on the connections he made on the other side of the Vast Sea. Despite Raedan’s objections, Lord Croutcher had named him Ambassador and given him command of this mission. Raedan found a touch of humor in the fact that their revolution had been started because the king wanted to send troops to the other side of the Vast Sea to fight the Chesian Empire’s advances, and now he was making the journey to find allies for their fight. He would likely find no friends among the nations most threatened by the Chesians.

You need not doubt yourself, Damon Kor said from the cabin’s doorway. The elf’s hands were in the sleeves of his red robe, his silver hair fell over his shoulders like silk. There was concern in the elf’s eyes, but it was seemingly not directed at Raedan.

There’s something on your mind, Raedan said. He reached into his trunk and extracted a thick tome. It was one of the books that Damon wanted him to study while they were apart, a treatise on the exercise of magic in more controlled, subtle ways. I’ve seen that look more times than I can remember.

Pyt Ansell and Ahlrick Cheston are the worst sort to send on this mission, Damon said. Pyt is a petty, greedy man and Ahlrick is looking to prove himself no matter the cost.

He’s a bastard, Raedan said. Of course he thinks that he has something to prove.

I just wish that Dalton would have sent more qualified assistants. Duke Dalton Croutcher, the newly minted Westgari Foreign Minister — and Raedan’s liege lord — had hastily assembled the emissaries from those available to him. The more qualified aristocrats were still in their territories, or leading their men at the front.

They had other tasks, Raedan said. I’ll make due with what I’ve been given. I always do.

You won’t succeed at every turn, Damon reminded him. Remember to accept your failures and learn from them. Pressing too hard may be counter-productive.

Anger welled inside Raedan. He hid the emotion quickly but Damon sensed it. The importance of this mission is not lost on me, Raedan said.

For the moment, the rebels had the upper hand. Their uprising had caught the king by surprise, their stores were full, and they provided a unified front. The western merchants had been given some sort of advanced warning and had withdrawn from loyalist waters before their declaration had reached Aetheston. But their advantages would be short lived. The incredible wealth of the loyalist nobility and their merchant houses meant that the ports on this side of the sea would quickly turn against the revolutionaries.

Westgar covered a large swath, but even the incredibly diverse territories would not be able to sustain their economy without external markets. The silver mines of the Odwolfe Earldom would be pointless if there was no one to buy goods from.

Calm yourself, Damon said. The captain has sensed your power, and I have spoken with her on your behalf. But she is unsure of you. Even half-elves are unpredictable at best when the Gift manifests within them. Without the balance of an elven heritage, she fears that you will be dangerous.

Raedan was able to contain his anger this time, but he felt the elf’s power shift. She is a skilled mage, he said after a moment.

She is well-trained, Damon said. Take caution around her. The Order of Shadow has a long reach and if they were to discover your abilities, I can’t say what they might do.

You’ve warned me before, Raedan said impatiently.

And until now, you’ve been safely away from the Order, Damon said. And anyone who might know that you have the Gift. You’re traveling into the heart of the old world. There will be more elves there than you’ve ever seen.

I will be careful, Raedan said.

Damon clapped his hands. Then I will leave you to it, he said. "Go in peace."

"And you," Raedan replied in elvish.

Raedan sighed when he was alone again. Damon had always been protective of his only human pupil, but sometimes Raedan wished that the elf would let him explore his abilities. Small step by small step, Damon had trained Raedan to manipulate the shadows in small ways but he was ready for more.

A stack of books were buried in his trunk, books Raedan had retrieved from a small library underneath Fort Ewan. He’d only read through one of the books, but he had already expanded his power years beyond what Damon would have taught him. This elf could be a valuable asset. Raedan could only imagine what he would be able to do if he had been raised with the Masters.

Chapter 03 - Raedan

The sloop was within long rifle range and Raedan Clyve could see the men running from post to post. Most were sailors, but there were a few marines on deck. They clutched rifles and watched their quarry edge closer. Twenty-four cannons bristled from the gunports on the side of the swift interceptor.

The Ansgari flag flapped lazily in the light wind. The green and white checkered field emblazoned with a golden giant wielding a spear was difficult to mistake for any other sigil. They were only five days out of Falmere and had already managed to avoid one other patrol, a slow frigate. However, this sloop was faster than the pondering ship-of-the-line and had swept down on them from upwind and fired two warning shots across the bow of the Dragon’s Breath.

They could have escaped if they had wanted. The Dragon’s Breath was a dragonship built in the docks of Laine. The elven boat makers were said to cast spells on the wood as they crafted their vessels, imbuing them with speed and agility no other ship could match. But it would have taken some time to outrun the swift sloop and the Ansgari ship would have been able to fire on the Dragon’s Breath before it slipped away. The ship’s captain had decided to deal with the patrol in another fashion.

Kyrie Salas stood at the bow of her ship, inspecting the Angari ship as they drifted closer together. She stood stalwart in a black jacket and trousers with her hands clasped behind her back as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. She had run out her eighteen broadside guns and had ordered her crew to arms. Most of the sailors were armed with pistols and cutlasses, a handful were armed with muskets and several of her elven crew members carried long rifles.

The elven city-state of Sidor had been a founding member of the Rhonish Republic. When the republic had collapsed, the city had led the other city-states into the business of mercenaries. The Sidori, however, had something that the other city-states didn’t: their elven magics, uncanny accuracy and gunsmith techniques that even the world-renowned Black Mountain Foundries couldn’t compete with.

The weapons were seven feet from one end to the other, taller than Raedan by half of a foot, and unwieldy to the point that they needed adjustable iron stands to support their weight. Raedan had never seen the rifles in battle, but Kyrie said that they were accurate up to a thousand yards.

The few elves trained in their use were positioned across the main and gun decks, hidden from sight. If fighting started, the large caliber bullets would tear through anything in their path.

A voice called across the closing gap. Ahoy!

Kyrie remained silent as the ships continued to drift together. Raedan watched her from the aft of the ship, waiting to see what this captain was made of. Above, the flag of the sea nation of Laine drifted from the main mast: a black dragonship on blue. Running up her nation’s flag had been the first thing that Kyrie had done once the ship was out of White Ridge Harbor.

The ships were drifting ever closer. The Ansgari captain called again. Ahoy!

Kyrie still remained silent.

Raedan could see the detail of the Ansgari uniforms now. Their captain wore the uniform that was traditional for naval officers of noble birth. The jacket was green with a double row of golden buttons down the center, a white sash was tied around the waist and gold tassel hung from shoulder boards. His green bicorne was tucked under one arm.

There was a sigil emblazoned over the captain’s heart, but Raedan couldn’t see it yet. Officers surrounded the captain: a pair of lieutenants, a master gunner and the commander of the ship’s marine party.

I think you should head below, a gruff, throaty voice said.

Raedan turned. A mass of green flesh towered over him. The orc had a flat face, wide black eyes and rounded ears pierced with a handful of golden rings. Two massive tusks jutted out from his lower jaw, over his upper lip.

The brutish looking Tuk Ok’aur was the commander of the boarding party. He wielded a halberd as tall as he was and a pair of axes hung from his belt.

He was of the Orosi tribe, Raedan had been told. He was taller than Raedan by eight or nine inches. His barrel chest was muscled and his arms bulged. A tuft of coarse black hair grew on his chest and his jade skin was ornamented by tattoos scrawled in glowing ink.

Orcs were not known for traveling aboard ships, much less serving aboard them as crew, but Tuk was an exception. He had served aboard Lainish ships for nearly all of his two hundred and twenty years.

I’ll stay above, Raedan said.

The orc pointed at the Ansgari sloop. They’re looking for the likes of you.

They are, Raedan agreed. But even if they see me, there’s nothing that they can do if the captain doesn’t allow it.

It’s your head. Tuk shrugged.

Ahoy! The Ansgari captain shouted. They were less than thirty yards apart now. Kyrie would be able to hear him.

Ahoy! Kyrie responded. She stepped to the deck rail and presented herself.

One of the lieutenants whispered in his captain’s ear. The senior officer looked at his subordinate for a moment, looked back at Kyrie — his expression was part surprise and part disgust - then shook his head. They had probably never seen a female captain before. The captain passed an order to the marine commander. The man moved to the main deck and passed orders to his troops. Grapples appeared in mens’ hands and they moved to the rail.

There’ll be no grapples, Kyrie called across the gap. They were twenty yards apart now.

You are within Ansgari waters, the captain responded. It is our right to board your vessel.

The men with the grapples lifted the iron hooks off of the deck and let them hang from a short length of rope. Others shouldered their rifles, though they were careful to keep their barrels lowered.

This is a registered courier vessel of the Sea Kingdom of Laine. We have accommodated you by allowing to you come alongside, but we will not further jeopardize our mission nor waste more of our precious time by receiving boarding parties. Kyrie was the picture of calm on the fore deck. Her hands were still clasped behind her back, her shoulders were set and she stood board straight.

There will be no discussing of terms, the Ansgari captain said. The two ships were less than ten yards apart. You will submit to a boarding party or you will suffer.

The captain raised a hand and the men on the deck began swinging their grapples.

The crack of a pistol cut through the air and the men on the Ansgari ship stopped. The revolver in Kyrie’s hand had appeared as if from nowhere and she aimed at the Ansgari captain. Sailors on both sides had brought their rifles up and aimed them at their counterparts.

You don’t want to start a fight with us, the Ansgari captain said. To his credit, he managed to maintain his composure as well as Kyrie.

The fingers of Raedan’s right hand pressed to the onyx clutched by the golden griffin amulet at his throat. He could feel the anger, the apprehension and the courage of the men around him. He also felt the fear. Those energies began to flow into him, and he closed his eyes as the roaring torrent collected within him.

The ancient tome that he had found in the cellar beneath Fort Ewan had opened his eyes to new spells and abilities, but he was still learning how to control them.

He could project emotions, but he had no way of controlling who was affected. Projecting courage into the sailors would do nothing to end the confrontation.

Only more fear would separate the two ships without incident. Raedan focused the churning energies within him and began to send waves of fear into both ships.

As the first wave of powerful energy washed over her crew, Kyrie’s shoulders tense and she twisted toward Raedan. Her eyes were ablaze and her face contorted with anger. She wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her cutlass and closed her eyes.

Raedan felt bursts of calm and courage blasting at him from the Elfish captain. Kyrie’s energies were more powerful than he had expected and they battled with his projections. The positive energy she was radiating into her crew sapped him of his strength.

Raedan focused his attention on the Ansgari ship. He could see the effects of his spell on the crew: men were fidgeting, officers were looking to their commander and the ship’s captain had turned pale. His hands were still clasped behind his back, but Raedan could see the fear in the captain’s eyes and feel it flowing from him.

He pushed harder, focused on the captain. Moments passed, but it felt like an eternity. Then, the captain broke and began ordering his men to stand down and move away.

Raedan released the onyx at his throat and stumbled for a moment before he fell to the deck and lost consciousness.

Chapter 04 - Kyrie

The Ansgari ship was well out of range when Kyrie Salas made her way below decks. Her body ached, her skin felt like it was on fire and she was exhausted.

She found Raedan Clyve laid out on a bed, still unconscious after what Kyrie Salas could only describe as an irresponsible and dangerous display of power.

She had to admit he was an impressive physical specimen. His chest and arms strained at his shirt and he carried himself with confidence. For a man, the power that he had projected was incredible. Kyrie had barely been able to withstand the first waves of fear.

But his control of his abilities was rudimentary at best. She had been on the verge of breaking the captain but Raedan’s inability to focus his energy had pushed raw emotion into the minds of her sailors. She had been forced to divert her attention — and precious energy — to prevent a panic among her crew.

The power that raged through Raedan could be a force unstoppable, but unless he learned to control his power, he was dangerous. Even within the Order of Shadow, there were few that resorted to the sort of brute force that Raedan projected. Kyrie needed to find a way to divert him to a more controlled branch of spells, and she needed to do it quickly. Unchecked, the power would consume him and drive him to madness.

She rolled up the sleeves of her silk shirt, exposing intricate tattoos wrought in ink made from ground onyx. She pressed her index fingers to Raedans forehead and closed her eyes.

His eyes flicked open and he grabbed her wrists with astonishing speed. She tried to pull away but he held firm.

Don’t ever try to get into my head again, he rasped.

Kyrie struggled to find the words. I was only trying to help, she growled.

Help with what?

You are on a path that leads to darkness. Darkness and destruction, she said. You need to take a different way. I thought that if I knew what drives you, I could help guide you to another way.

Her training as a Shadowmage acolyte had been comprehensive, and she was much further developed than Raedan. Even the little bit of information she could pass on to him would help him develop his abilities and improve his control.

There is nothing wrong with the path I am on, he said. He finally noticed the tattoos scrawled on her forearms and his eyes narrowed. I suppose that’s one way to have constant contact with onyx.

If you had been raised in a House of Shadows, you’d have the same marks, Kyrie said. I spent a hundred years in that monastery developing my gifts and learning under masters more than a thousand years old. He finally released her wrists and she unrolled her sleeves. That little outburst was dangerous. I had the situation under control, and you could have triggered a firefight that would have destroyed both ships.

And the tattoos?

These were earned, Kyrie said. Each marks passage through one of the tenants of the Order. The inking had been painful, but it was a symbol of ability and power. When the final tattoo had been applied, her Master had blessed her and sent her into the world.

Nothing was more important to an acolyte than the blessing of the Master, and she had beamed with pride for days after her final ceremony.

While many Shadowmages took up work as mercenaries, bounty hunters or assassins, Kyrie had taken to the sea as a deckhand for a Lainish courier. She had learned the ways of the sea and the business of being a merchant captain. Twelve years later, she purchased the Dragon’s Breath and took to the seas as a captain. Stepping onto the deck of the dragonship — knowing that the ship belonged to her — had been the second most incredible feeling in her life.

Raedan pushed himself up to a sitting position. I helped as best I could, he said.

You’re not a half-elf, Kyrie said after a brief pause. The fact had been obvious from the first instant she had touched him. The power that flowed through him was pure, untainted by his human flesh.

Raedan was something different. He had no elven blood in him at all, but the clarity of the energy within him was greater than many elves. Only the eldest, best trained, and most learned had a power stronger and clearer than his.

I’m not, he confirmed. Before Kyrie could ask the obvious next question, Raedan changed the subject, What is this other path that you would see me take?

There are ways to influence the emotions and thoughts of others without absorbing the raw feelings of those around you, Kyrie said. Those raw emotions are dangerous. Absorbing too much can cause damage to your mind.

Kyrie had seen what happened to shadowmages who abused their power. They became reliant on the raw emotions of others and the unfettered power. They instigated panic and war just so that they could feed their addiction.

I didn’t ask for these abilities. This power, Raedan said. But I intend to learn as much about it as I can.

I can teach you, Kyrie said. I can show you the way.

I am a Clyve, we make our own way.

Don’t be foolish, Raedan, Kyrie said sternly. Beneath her shirt, the tattoos on her arms glowed. Her mind invaded his. She cut through the emotions and her consciousness crawled through his thoughts.

Get out of my mind! Raedan shouted as he forced her consciousness out of his. Their energies twisted around