Again silence.
A feeling crept over Catrin, but she pushed it away, not wanting to let anything alter her course. She was a mother; nothing could stand in her way, but that feeling, which fostered doubt, would not be ignored. Gripping the chair so hard that she thought she might snap it, a thought occurred to Catrin. "Kenward, what is your cargo?"
"Spices, seeds, a variety of things for homesick Greatlanders living on the Godfist, and a pair of boilin' heavy stone thrones for your highness."
"That's it. I can use one of the thrones to travel back to the Godfist."
"Oh, no," Kenward said. "I'm not going through that again. The last time you tried that, you nearly died. And how do you think I'd feel with your dead carcass on my deck? No, sir. Not me. Nope. Besides, you can't get to those thrones. They're acting as ballasts and are underneath the rest of the cargo."
"Surely we can manage to get one of them on deck," Catrin said.
"No. It took ten men and a hoist to get them where they are, and even if we could move one up here, I wouldn't. That would make us top heavy, and we'd likely capsize. I'm sorry. No."
"You owe me," Kenward said hours later, looking more agitated than Catrin had ever seen him.
Shifting, she tried to find a way to get comfortable on the cold, hard stone. She reminded herself that the throne was designed not for comfort but to act as an anchor to her physical form, which would guide her back to her body.
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this. What was I thinking?"
Looking out at clear, blue sky, Catrin knew better than to smile. The hastily cut hole in Kenward's deck provided just enough of a view for her purposes. Bales of herbs had been stacked as strategically as possible to provide the proper acoustics and the separation of the two individual chants. Many of Kenward's crew, including Kenward himself, knew both sides of the chant from their harrowing voyage to the Firstland in search of Archmaster Belegra. Those memories brought fear and mourning, and Catrin tried to put that out of her mind as she concentrated.
Before her, Pelivor knelt, looking up into her eyes. "I'll attend you. Just as I did all those years ago."
Catrin smiled. "I know I can count on you." She also nearly laughed when she heard Kenward complaining that he should just start keeping drums on his ships so he would not have to constantly make them from whatever was in his hold.
Voices rose slowly on either side, each with their own cadence and melody that uncannily merged into seamless harmony. When the drums did start, Catrin was impressed by the amount of vibration she felt. The crew had done well. Those vibrations allowed her to slip beyond her mortal shield, and Catrin flew free in a rush of exaltation. The open sky welcomed her, and she soared through it. Behind her, a silvery thread ran back to her waiting form. She, Prios, and Brother Vaughn had been right; it was indeed the mixture of metal and stone that created the anchor effect. Had the thrones ever reached the Godfist, everything could have been different. Catrin and Prios would have had the ability to safely travel astrally anywhere they wished; they could have been so much better prepared. Instead, she and Prios had nearly been killed just trying to travel a short distance to save their son. Catrin did not blame Kenward for the horrors they faced, but she did shiver at the memory of them and wished again that Kenward could have come sooner.
Instinct guided her as she sailed straight toward Sinjin, her course direct and unerring. The waves raced beneath her, a feeling of bliss nearly overcoming her as she flew. Such freedom! Twisting and spinning, she reveled in the glory of being naught but energy, free of burden and driven by pure purpose. Only the nature of that purpose brought Catrin out of her revelry. The thought of the demons that ravaged her homeland brought with it a dangerous odor, and the wind cried afoul. Those who stood against her overwhelmed Catrin's senses; single-minded hatred engulfed her, and it was that obsession that frightened her the most. It was not as if each of them hated her for his own reason. The hatred was homogeneous and felt as if it came from a single, dominating source. An oily and cloying feeling encroached on Catrin, and she felt insignificant and small. Every sense told her that she would be dead already if not for something surrounding her, protecting her.
No! her spirit cried as she sensed the falseness of the will that was trying to subvert her, and she recoiled, but it pursued her with relentless vigor. Only when another energy came close did the oppression wane, and Catrin could feel Kyrien as he reminded her what it felt like to be truly protected.
You should not go back. . yet.
Catrin wanted to scream at him, to accuse and blame him. Lacking the form to utter the words, she cast angry energy at him, and still he remained unwavering.
We are not ready to face them. . yet.
I cannot abandon them, Catrin wanted to scream.
The world spun as Kyrien overwhelmed Catrin's senses with a vision, a projection of his thoughts that felt as if they were her own. She experienced not some memory of Kyrien's past; she lived his fears as if they were her own. He bared his soul, showing her the things he knew were to come, as surely as if he were a prophet. The future horrified her, but it was not enough to dissuade her. No one and nothing could convince her to leave Sinjin to his fate. She had to see him. She could sense his fear. He needed her.
I must go, she thought with all her might.
Kyrien relented but stayed by her side. When the attack came, he thrust himself in front of her. Catrin screamed as his energy was torn apart.
Her spirit shouting a reverberating battle cry, Catrin gathered her energy and attacked. The silvery thread that trailed behind her blazed furiously, and energy raced along the thread to devastating effect. Dark forms gathered in the air around her, each twisted and deformed, as if nature itself had been subverted. Such single-minded rage and malevolence was difficult to face, but Catrin's web of lightning knifed through the air, seemingly random in its path, the tendrils were well-defined and tightly wound, which was a product of what Pelivor had taught her. Now she could create larger, more powerful, structures using less energy. When the beams of liquid light struck, they severed the bonds between the demons' spirits and their mortal forms. She could feel them as they were freed from compulsion, freed from a life of torture, and returned to the well from which they'd been sprung. More came, and Catrin attacked, again and again, relentlessly, feeling no pain and no weariness.
Voices called to her, but she ignored them. She was winning! She could defeat this enemy and find Sinjin and Prios. She was going to win! Kyrien's spirit overwhelmed her as his energy embraced her.
You must go back now.
No! I'm winning!
The cost is too great. You will die. The darkness is drawing you in and can strike at any time. You must turn back now!
Catrin didn't care if she died. It was not her life that mattered, but the thought of Sinjin growing up without his mother made her soul ache. A sparkling cloud of threatening energy gathered around the Godfist as she approached, and she could feel the pent-up charge waiting for release. What she'd seen so far had been but a feint; what awaited her now was a full assault. The enemy had tested her defenses and knew her weaknesses. Soon she realized that Kyrien had been right, but it was too late, the attack was swift, without further warning, and deadly. Catrin felt something akin to all the air being sucked out of a room, and the darkness reached out all at once, hurtling toward her with the most foul intent. The hatred battered her senses.
Catrin opened herself to all the energy she could pull across her lifeline, which now resembled a bolt of lightning racing toward her. When it struck, Catrin felt herself become the conductor. She felt as if she, too, were illuminated from the inside out and that she shone like the sun. The brightness fought the haggard darkness that reached out to her with lethal force. Without thought or reason, Catrin released the energy in a single pulse that sent a wave of light radiating out from her like a massive wall of water. The darkness was tossed before it, and lost in the wave, it dissipated and vanished. It was a small dent in the massive cloud of darkness, but it gave Catrin heart.