Chapter 24 - Study Break

  Captain Rask had pulled this job a dozen times before by now. The plan was simple: breach the barrier, sweep the deck, secure the crew, collect the indexes, split the gains with the corrupt captain, and disappear before anyone important noticed. Clean, simple, and profitable.

  Another milk run, he thought as his boots hit the deck of the luxury airship. Rich passengers, minimal guards, cooperative crew. In and out in twenty minutes.

  His crew moved almost like trained soldiers, spreading across the deck and crashing through the glass doors. The vice-captain and his boys on the second ship went for the bridge, third crew took the lower cabins, and Rask himself headed for the passenger lounge where the real prizes waited.

  The crew surrendered immediately, hands in the air, just like Captain Morris had promised they would. Everything according to plan.

  Too easy. This is what happens when you grease the right palms.

  Rask allowed himself a satisfied smirk as he descended the stairs into the main passenger area.

  The lounge was decorated in that overly ornate style the wealthy seemed to love—velvet seats, polished brass fixtures, and magical lighting that probably cost more than one of his ships. Unfortunately, he had promised to keep the damage minimal, so stealing them was out of the question.

  A handful of passengers looked up as he entered, showing the expected range of reactions: fear, outrage, resignation. Nothing he hadn't seen before.

  "Afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," Rask announced, using his voice with the authority of someone who'd given this speech many times. "This is a simple matter of commerce. Your indexes, your valuables, and we'll be on our way. No one needs to get hurt."

  They never do. Not when they're smart about it.

  Old habits made him scan for threats—retired military types, adventurers, anyone stupid enough to play hero. There was an older man who had the bearing of a fighter, but he was sitting calmly in a corner with his hands visible. The rest were exactly what he expected: merchants, minor nobles, people whose survival instincts outweighed their pride.

  His crew moved through the lounge with smooth efficiency. They collected indexes with polite threats while Rask kept watch at the exit. Everything was going exactly as—

  A muffled thud echoed from somewhere below deck.

  Rask's hand instinctively moved to the enchanted firearm at his hip. What was that?

  "Boss," a voice from the third crew crackled through the communication device in his ear. "We've got... uh, we've got a problem."

  Shit. Problems were supposed to be eliminated before they started. That was the whole point of paying off the captain.

  "Define problem," Rask said quietly, keeping his expression neutral for the passengers' benefit.

  "Torven and Gresk. They're... they're stuck to the wall. Can't move. Some kind of golden barrier thing."

  Rask's stomach dropped. Golden barriers? Gold light? Can’t they just shatter them with the guns?

  "Can’t you shoot it?"

  A brief silence before the voice returned. "Something's… blocking the barrels! The same golden barrier has gotten inside the guns somehow!"

  Every single weapon? Rask's mind raced. That level of precision was impossible without seeing the guns directly, wasn’t it?

  He looked down the barrel of his own gun, at an angle since he wasn’t an idiot, seeing that same golden light glowing faintly inside.

  Fuck me.

  "...Get out of the lower decks, now!"

  "Roger, we’ll head for the—"

  Another thud, this one closer. Then another.

  "Kellis, report. Now."

  Silence.

  Double fuck. I knew the risk would be higher on these fancy ships, but Morris told me no strong mages had boarded! Did he plan for us to fail?!

  Rask signaled to two of his men with quick hand gestures: Trouble. Stay alert. They tensed, weapons at the ready, eyes scanning the room for threats.

  The passengers had noticed the change in atmosphere. The old fighter's eyes narrowed slightly, and a few others exchanged nervous glances. They could smell blood in the water.

  Stay calm. Assess. Adapt.

  Another communication device flickered to life in his other ear. "Boss, it's Vorn. The hostages on the port side just—they just got wrapped up in some kind of barrier. All six of them. I didn't see anyone cast anything, didn't hear any invocations, nothing!"

  Rask's hand tightened on his pistol. No visible casting? How does this mage cast magic everywhere at once? How long is the range?

  "Vorn, get to—"

  A golden shimmer appeared in his peripheral vision. Rask spun, raising his weapon, but it was already too late. Three more of his crew were suddenly pressed against the wall by barriers of pure golden light.

  They didn't even have time to react.

  Roddick, the strongest member they had, tried to push the barrier away with everything he had at his disposal. He enhanced his muscles with mana, causing them to glow faintly beneath his skin. But the barrier didn’t even budge.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  …Are we dealing with a fucking archmage? Are they even this strong?

  The passengers were backing away now, some diving behind seats, others pressing themselves against the walls. The old fighter remained seated, but there was something in his expression now. Eagerness.

  Best get out while we still can!

  "All units, fall back to—" Rask tried to order, but both the communication crystals were completely dark.

  No. No, no, no.

  This was a disaster.

  Rask made a split-second decision and bolted for the stairs leading to the bridge. His boots hammered against the wooden steps as his mind raced through contingencies. Find Morris. Grab what we can. Get back to the ship and run.

  He burst onto the bridge to find a lone Captain Morris standing calmly at the helm, looking entirely too composed for a ship under attack.

  The guy can’t act for shit.

  "Morris!" Rask barked. "You said this would be clean! You said no archmages, no high-level—"

  "What? There shouldn’t be any powerful mages on board. Only that retired captain, but I thought you could deal with him.”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit! This is an archmage, and I know you didn’t miss a fucking archmage getting on your ship!”

  Before Rask could process that betrayal, footsteps echoed from the corridor behind him. Calm. Unhurried. The sound of someone who had all the time in the world because they'd already won.

  Rask turned to see a young man and a teenage girl walking toward the bridge, like they were on an afternoon stroll. The man was probably mid-twenties, with the kind of casual confidence that came from never having to worry about threats. The girl was likely blind—her eyes were closed, and she kept one hand lightly touching the man's arm—but she held herself with surprising poise.

  …No way. You’re way too young to be an archmage.

  "Are you here to save us from the pirates?" Morris asked, pretending to be relieved. His acting was terrible, but it might fool an inexperienced lad like this.

  The young man smiled, and something about that smile made Rask's blood run cold. It wasn't cruel. It wasn't mocking. It was just... certain.

  "Not you, no. But the rest, sure." The young man's eyes met Rask's. "Nice to meet you, pirate captain! I've met most of your crew already, they're hard workers!"

  He knows. He knows everything.

  The reality of the situation crashed down on Rask like a tidal wave. His crew—spread throughout the ship, neutralized without a single spell circle being drawn, without a single incantation being spoken. This man had taken apart his entire operation with the same casual ease someone might use to swat flies.

  We're not walking away from this.

  "...Fuck, you're some sort of super-strong mage, huh?" The words came out before Rask could stop them. No point in pretending otherwise.

  "In the flesh." That damned smile again. "Your men are all still alive, don't worry."

  Relief warred with resignation in Rask's chest. The difference in power was so great that there was no need for bloodshed. Small mercies.

  He pointed an accusing finger at Morris. "I fucking told you, the passengers here are too high risk!"

  Should have trusted my gut. Should have walked away when the pay seemed too good.

  "...I have no idea what you mean, sir," Morris tried, but his voice cracked slightly.

  "Shut up, there's no way I'm going back in the dungeons without you." Rask turned back to the young man, forcing his shoulders to relax. No point in going down fighting—that's how people got killed. "Where do you want me to stay, boss? Do you use handcuffs?"

  The young mage tilted his head, looking almost amused. "Oh, you already know the process? I'm quite new to this myself, so maybe you can help me?"

  New to this? He just dismantled my entire crew like he was playing with toys, and he's new to this?

  But Rask had survived this long by being adaptable. If cooperation was his best shot at getting his people out alive, he'd cooperate.

  "...Normally, you would keep us all contained in one place, like a storage room or something. Then you fly to the nearest city and hand us over to the guards, with some kind of explanation. It helps if you have credentials, makes it easier for them to trust you. And make sure you include this dickhead!"

  Morris's face went pale. "I am the captain of this ship! Why would I cooperate with pirates?"

  Because you're a greedy bastard who got paid handsomely to look the other way, that's why.

  "Hey, Fillie, what do you think?" The young man addressed the blind girl.

  "Can we toss him overboard?" she asked calmly. Her voice held a cold edge that reminded Rask that appearances could be deceiving.

  Morris's face went from pale to white.

  Good. Let him sweat.

  "Hmm, I see your point," the young man mused, as if genuinely considering it. "Traitors and liars are so much worse than honest, hardworking criminals, don't you think?"

  …I like this guy. Honest, hardworking criminals—that’s exactly what we are!

  "Just so." The girl's voice was satisfied. "You can use my name to brush it over, I won't mind."

  "Oh, that Harrowbloom name really does carry so much power."

  Harrowbloom?!

  Rask felt his knees go weak. He'd just tried to rob a member of one of the most powerful noble families in the kingdom. No wonder things had gone south.

  Right, the youngest daughter was blinded.

  Morris clearly realized it at the same moment. He collapsed to his knees, scrambling to remove his index with trembling hands. "I'm sorry! Just... Just let me live, and I'll confess to everything..."

  Rask felt a grim satisfaction watching the coward grovel. At least the young mage seemed reasonable.

  "Good lad!" The mage's tone was almost cheerful. "But I don't want to stop the journey just yet. Can your men keep the ship running all the way to Novanny without you?"

  What? Novanny? But… I haven’t bribed any of the dungeon guards there…

  "Y-yes,” Morris stammered. “And we can stay in the storage room until then."

  “But!” Rask interrupted. “Our ships can’t follow all the way to Novanny. Perhaps we could land briefly in the nearest city so the guards can take care of them?”

  It was a complete bluff, of course. But if he could get to a local prison with a small bluff, at least he had a chance to get out.

  “Oh, that’s an issue,” the young man said, stroking his chin. “But the ships seem to be well fueled. And the range says they can handle several days of flight.”

  Fucking hell, he can see through walls… Well, there goes that plan.

  “I… You’re right. I forgot we fueled them before the attack. They can fly all the way.”

  The young man nodded, apparently satisfied with the arrangement. "Perfect. Oh, and one more thing—what's your name? For the report."

  "Rask. Captain Rask." He straightened slightly, finding a shred of professional dignity even in defeat. "And for what it's worth... I'm sorry about the trouble.”

  “It was no trouble, just a small interruption to our lessons. Perhaps the break did us good.”

  …Maybe a pirate’s life isn’t for me anymore.

  As golden barriers materialized to herd him and his good friend Morris toward the storage area, Rask found himself thinking about his crew. They were alive. They'd face justice, yes, but they'd face it alive. In his line of work, that was the best outcome you could hope for when things went sideways.

  Note to self, he thought as the barrier guided him down the corridor, never, ever take a job on a ship like this again. No matter how good the pay. Any one of them could be carrying some blessed noble family child.

  Behind him, he could hear Morris still pleading and sniveling. Rask felt no sympathy. The pirate's code was simple: you could steal, you could fight, you could even kill if you had to—but you never betrayed your own. Morris had betrayed his own crew, then he had tried to evade consequences by ratting them out. Whatever punishment awaited him was well deserved.

  As the storage room door swung open to reveal the rest of his crew already contained within, looking shaken but unharmed, Rask couldn't help but feel a strange sense of relief.

  Could have been worse. Could have been much, much worse.