William Jones
Stories
10
Chapters
3,868
Words
2.6 M
Comments
0
Reading
8 d, 21 h
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As Joe pursued Blackgut into the sky, a glass jar with a chain attached fell next to the Butcher, breaking. The smoke inside the jar flowed into his mouth as he struggled to catch his breath from the blow Blackgut had dealt him. Images poured into his mind made of the thoughts and dreams mixed with his breath: Joe and Jenny searching for him, a maze of chains and smoke that needed a firm hand, and the gaze of an insane visitor from somewhere else. Worst of all was Suzettes nightmares. Mixed with her fears…-
687 •
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Two cyclones fought high above in the Smoke near the border of Skye. Joe was rusty. He hadn't had access to all of his power in centuries. The curse that allowed a greater Cyclone to be bound also separated them in two. The bulk of their power was contained in a wild Cyclone, bereft of most of its intelligence and will, easily controlled by the gods of the planes and kept under control. The rest, their soul and mind, was bound to an object or individual. Joe had chosen to become a 'smoke golem' bound to…
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687 •
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Twelve more times, Ozzy drained the sails of heat to turn barrels of rotten rum into make-shift bombs. Each time they cleared the top deck of the galley, destroying the tight-packed undead. The wood of the Black Ship was too old and hard to catch fire or char. The ship had been making the trip from the bottom of the smoke to collect the dead since humans had first come to the smoke. It was an artifact of another age. The charred were another matter and were destroyed by the released heat. Black gut sat…
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687 •
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The lookout's shout echoed down from the crow's nest, fear in his voice. "Enemy ship off the port side, closing fast!" From out of the smog, a large galley with three tiers of oars was closing with them fast; their intent to ram was obvious. A steady beat of a drum and the voice of the coxwain could be heard as they closed the distance. A deep voice yelled, "Ramming Speed!". The Black Trireme was filled with charred sailors on its topdeck while the living toiled at the oars. The screams of the damned…
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687 •
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Repairs to Ozzy was getting a workout. After the mast was made straight, Woodrat started learning how to marry two pieces of wood together properly. While Ozzy was fixing the hundred-foot-long crack he had put into the mast, Woodrat set to work creating oak bands to reinforce the mast. Some of the pieces they had salvaged from the sargasso were old wood, black with age, and hard enough that only Woodrat could work with them. He added piece after piece to the mast as rings to keep it from splitting again,…
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687 •
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The ring of Thunderheads moved toward the eruption at a steady pace, dropping moisture as they went that cooled the smoke. Behind them were massive clouds of steam carrying the heat upward. The gap between the cyclones was half what it had been when Splinter had first encountered them, making it harder to run between them. The only hope the ships had was in speed and the strength of their shields. The Cyclones knew they were coming, and the two nearest them slowly moved together to block them. The…
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687 •
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An hour before dawn saw After almost putting the ship onto its side with an overly aggressive tack, the argument got heated. "I can steer a ship as well as you can! I can feel the heat and smoke better than you and react faster." Moira was at the helm with Woodrat near her and calling out orders or offering advice. The Captain rolled his eyes. "Just like a windstorm to think they know it all. Have you ever wondered why every story where a Cyclone gets tricked and bound is because of their pride? I…
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687 •
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The mood aboard On the main deck, Butterbelly was still cooking Kraken, aided now and then by Ozzy. The firewalker moved between multiple chunks of roasting Kraken, spreading the sauce over each piece of meat, sealing in the juices, and adding spice to the rich flavor of the ancient Kraken. The butcher would pause in his labors to wrap the food in layers of heat and smoke. Time and again, he went down to the hold and pulled the heat from ailing sailors until his furnace was full to the point of…
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687 •
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It was another evening of celebration aboard the The chunk of meat he cut off of the tentacle was just a tiny fraction of its length and the size of a large barrel. He marinaded the chunk and rubbed the sauce onto every surface before stuffing it into the oven. For hours the firewalker cooked the slab of meat, taking it out to peel off the cooked outer layer and slather on more sauce before returning it to the heat. The savory smell of baked Kraken flowed out behind the Not one to let fresh fish get…
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Captain Cavendish released a small bit of his heat into the flare and sent it into the sky. Then he turned and addressed what was left of his crew. Of the eight hundred sailors that had once crewed "That was the last flare, and we have no messengers left unless you count prayers to the gods. And I fear they are occupied with weightier matters than one ship adrift in the smoke. Still, let us give thanks for what we have and pray to Evergreen that she will deal with this heat and send us aid in our hour of…
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