Secrets Beyond the Skies

Magic Collapse 

Echoes of Shattered Skies

Stow Away

Year 1901 of Arthenia's founding

Garrick despised the surrounding magic. The bustle of the docks hummed with magic. The catch of the day flew into barrels, some rolled down the dock towards the market, others stacked up on the dock. Lesser mages cast more spells. Ropes moved on their own towards the dock. He watched the ropes twine around the cleats, then pulled the last ship of the evening into the dock. Lesser mages followed the rolling barrels.

The best time to sneak onto the ship would be after this bustle, when they offloaded the cargo from Mar-Sal, but before the night watch showed up. When the weary crew would be in a hurry to stretch their legs. Stretch their legs right to the bars and brothels, that is. His jealousy raged as he watched a talented mage lift much of the cargo into the air. He swallowed that rage and tried to comfort himself with the ironic thought of using one of his dad's ships to make his escape. Garrick waited behind a crate while the mages from the last ship worked efficiently. They brought barrels of fish on board as they took the cargo off. The work went fast, but something felt off. This should have been completed before he'd arrived. Something had slowed them down.

The group of mages finished with their task of unloading and walked his way. Sulking behind the crates looked suspicious, so he grabbed a broom, pulled his hat down to shade his face, and started sweeping the docks. The three mages approached. Garrick briefly pulled his hat up for a better look. Was that Tom and Marcel? They'd grown a lot since he'd played with them as kids. Well, so had he. He didn't know the third mage in the group.

Tom, the tallest of the trio, took the lead. "These trips take so long, especially this time of year, when the island is so far from Mar-Sal."

The unknown mage dropped his bag on the dock. "Yeah, why don't we just extend the portal network to Ro-Tawgh, then no more need for ships."

Marcel said, "Won't work, not over that distance. It'd take an army of mages to power the stones for one trip." He struggled to position the bag over the other mage's shoulder.

Tom ignored Garrick. No hint that he saw him as he walked closer. "Looks like we have an expert in the group. If you're so smart, why are you down here with us and not up at some fancy school running the place?" He cast a spell. The heavy bag floated off the mage's shoulder.

"Thanks Tom." The unknown mage laughed. "Could be we just don't want an open door between them and our backyard."

Garrick, for a moment, wished he could be that mage. To laugh with his friends like they were kids again, before it was apparent that he would never cast a spell. That was when his mom left him, and the beatings had begun. He swept wildly at the dock.

Tom said, "What, you think we are worried about an invasion from them? We have magic, they don't."

Garrick moved to the side and kept his head down, and did his best to look like he belonged. The group ignored him as he'd hoped. Everyone always did. Well, almost always. The group of mages walked by, and Garrick repositioned himself to catch the rest of the conversation. Tom slowed down and turned back.

Marcel asked, "Are you sure they don't have magic? Did you see that show? Guy knocked off those jugs using that metal stick from across the room! Made one hell of a bang."

"Yeah, and that carriage drove around in circles. Without a horse pulling it!"

Tom turned back to the group. "Was just fake, probably a guy behind a curtain and rope pulling the carriage." He glanced at Garrick, but said nothing.

Garrick held his breath until the group stepped off the dock. Their skin had bronzed much darker, his remained a lighter shade. Tom was darker than he was! Mar-Sal, the main port city of Ro-Tawgh, had lots of sunshine. Good to remember, his complexion would darken like theirs had. He wasn't of the fairest complexion, likely because of his mixed blood, which many attributed to his lack of magic. The theory had many holes in it. Plenty of magicless or weak mages were born throughout the kingdom, but the stigma stuck, and Garrick despised it. He couldn't wait to leave. The desert country of Ro-Tawgh seemed more inviting every day.

He wiped the wetness from his lips and winced. Blood from his wound dripped to the dock. He fetched the already blood-soaked rag from his pocket and held it up to his split lip. The fat lip had broken open again. He felt the tender bruised tissue of his cheek and it hurt like hell. After he was sure his lip had stopped bleeding, he put the rag back in his pocket. He knew how to handle bumps and bruises and was grateful that's all this was. The pain he felt settled into resolve and he went about his task. He looked back to the group leaving the dock and crept along with the cargo they'd left on the dock. The second shift would be here soon to clear the docks, so he had to move swiftly.

The ship waited for him, and he took another glance to make sure no one was heading this way. Music played from bars, the sound carried across the bay, Garrick was counting on the dock workers being entertained. He'd paid the girls at the bars with gold he'd stolen from his dad and promised them more.

He readied himself to climb the rope. The rope sagged when he put his weight on in. He was almost in the water and hugged the rope tighter. The climb should have been easy, but between his care to climb swiftly and quietly, and his bruises, he was exhausted. Up at the top, he rolled over the ship's railing and hit the deck hard on his bruised ribs. He choked the yelp of pain down and bit his lip to prevent anymore screams of pain; This caused it to trickle a few drops of blood.

He snuck up to the captain's cabin wall and around to the ocean side, out of sight of the dock workers. There he would wait until night to slip into the hold. He could hear the second shift footsteps on the dock below and settled in, keeping his profile low. His plan was simple; stay out of sight long enough for the ship to set sail. That should be easy. The crews were all lazy and relaxed at the port. This ship, the newly commissioned Arcturus, while his father's, had a crew list he didn't know. So, they shouldn't know him either. While Stowaways were uncommon, the rumor was the captain would allow one or two, at least when leaving the port, and if they carried their weight. He only worried if they would expect him to cast spells. But he couldn't remain here any longer. Those coming from the southern islands usually cost a hefty price, but this was a one-way trip. If they found him too soon after setting sail, the ship would turn around and he would be responsible for the extra cost and, worse, face his dad again.

The second book in the series is well under way. I have the plot and a new terrain for the Arcturus to travel. The second story will take you to hidden mysteries, new enemies, and familiar faces. I am expecting to release it will a book launch and everything mid to late 2025.