Lost at Sea Bk. 02 Ch. 22

"You were the one who wanted to show off," Bella said to Jack.

"She always has loved an audience," Will added.

"Do... not..." Jack grunted.

Will reached out with his other hand and slid it in between Bella's knees. She felt the movement, looked down, and narrowed her eyes at him. "I have to concentrate."

"Are we going to blow up?" Will asked.

"No, setting up the ritual was the dangerous part. I promise, we're fine now. It's just hard to take this much energy this fast," Bella said. "If you distract me, I can't take in as much. Every time you see the glow get brighter, that's the wards dispersing energy to keep us safe. Light means wasted energy."

To drive her point home, Bella focused on quickly narrowing and widening how much energy she was taking in. The glow from the sigils pulsed like a signal lantern. From the other tent, Jack's muffled sounds of bliss took on an edge of surprise, then confusion and anger."

"It's fascinating," Friday said, tilting her head to look at Bella. "Are you actually controlling what she feels?"

"Sort of," Bella said.

"Yes!" Jack snapped.

"I'm controlling the rate of buildup," Bella said.

Will's expression became devious. "So if you lose your concentration, we won't blow up, but you'll lose some of the energy you're taking in?'

"Yes, essentially," Bella said with a nod.

"And it just washes back to Jack?" Will asked.

"Some of it goes back to both of them. I guess it would have to go through Jack to get to Quinn since she's acting as a conduit right now. Anyway, the transfer is wanting to go towards me, so when it goes the other way a bunch of it overflows into the wards." Then her eyes narrowed again and she looked at him suspiciously. "Wait, what are you-"

"Oh, interesting," Friday commented. She propped her head up on her hand, watching the byplay curiously. With her head elevated, she pulled Will's cock to her lips and began swirling her tongue just below the head, still stroking slowly with soft hands while she watched the drama that was starting to unfold.

"Did you hear that Jack?" Will asked. "Some of it goes back to you."

"Oh gods..." she groaned. "Please."

"And..." he continued.

"What? " Jack said, trying to focus. "Wait- Yes. Mmm. Fine. What... do you- Nnng. Want?"

Will looked at Bella questioningly. She looked a bit worried, but nodded.

"Remember Queen for a Day?" he asked.

"Of- Course," she said between impacts.

"You always said if I was lucky it would be my turn someday," Will said with a self-indulgent smirk.

"Oh you... ass..." she managed between gasps. "Fine!"

"Bella?" Will asked the wide eyed witch. He slid his fingers up her inner thighs and gently brushed her sensitive folds.

"I don't know why you're asking me," Bella said, rolling her eyes at his words and her hips at his touch.

"It's your show, you can say stop," Will said.

"But I'm not going to," Bella whispered. She leaned over and gave him a soft kiss. "I meant what I said. Anything."

"I remember," he whispered back. "I still want to hear you say yes."

She nodded against his lips and rested her forehead against his. The lights pulses of light brightened again as Bella's focus wavered. "Yes."

Jack's pleasure surged and she gasped.. "Are you two... conspiring..."

"Of course," Will answered. He pushed his fingers deep into Bella. She was sopping. With all the buildup, hearing Jack, watching Will and Friday, she was already far more on edge than she'd let on. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed herself up, bowing her shoulders and letting her head hang. Her hair spilled all around him. He pressed the pad of his thumb into her sensitive nub and curved his fingers inside her. With his other hand he mirrored the motion with Friday.

Bella squeaked and rolled her hips as a surge of pleasure shot from her clit up her spine. Friday pushed her pelvis forward against Will's hand and muffled the happy noised she was making by filling her mouth with Will's cock. Jack's words jumbled together into her pillow as Bella's distraction caused another buildup of pleasure. After a moment, Bella took a few deep, centering breaths and opened her energy flow. All of them felt the bliss wane back to a pleasurable but not overwhelming level.

"Damn it,' Jack grunted, trying to catch her breath between Quinn's relentless pistoning. "Damn it, Will! Did you- unm! Lose your touch?"

"Give me a bit, I just started." He pulsed his fingers and swirled his thumb, just like he knew Bella liked. She rocked her hips and squeaked again, trying to focus on her breathing.

"Oh spirits, I shouldn't have taught you that," she moaned.

"Jack taught me that," Will corrected.

"I taught her that," Bella countered.

"Owe you both an thank you, I," Friday said, biting her lip again. "Good at that, he."

"It's one of the perks of being tutored by an insatiable nymph who likes telling people what to do," Will smirked. He pulled more firmly inside them, and held, lifting slightly with his strong forearms. The moans from either side told him he was doing things right. Bella's mouth opened wide and her eyes shut tight as she lost her focus for a moment. The stream of energy flowing between them all narrowed to a natural trickle. Suddenly everyone's pleasure spiked further.

"I am not aaaAAAHHHHohgods," Jack's protests were interrupted by another surge of pleasure that was just as quickly withdrawn as Bella regained her focus again.

"Oh please, you're as bad... Mmm yes... as I am," Bella said, recovering from her momentary lapse. "You're just more buttoned up about it."

"Damn it Bella!" Jack snapped. "Will! Ooh... whatever... you're doing... do it more."

"Yes, Ma'am." Will lifted and pulled harder, unexpectedly tipping Bella forward. She yelped in surprise and planted her hands on either side of his head to catch herself. Will lifted his head and latched his lips onto one of her nipples. As she gasped he began plunging his fingers in and out of her rapidly. He felt her back arch and heard her gasp. Her breast pressed down onto his face as he sucked and nibbled.

The level of pleasure they all felt suddenly swelled again. He felt his cock harden to the edge of discomfort. Friday dropped her mouth further down on his cock and slid her plump lips down to meet her hand. She held him there, increasing her suction and holding him in her mouth, squeezing the base of his shaft tightly as her whole body tensed and froze while he worked his fingers and thumb inside her. The contrast between the Nivalese and N'madi witches was like night and day. Where Friday went still as her pleasure mounted, Bella bucked and girated, seeming like she was simultaneously trying to push further into his fingers and mouth, and pull away. Her breast was so large that he had to close his eyes as the heavy softness covered his face. Breathing was suddenly a lot more difficult. He turned his head slightly so he could get some air through his nose, then focused on the nipple in his mouth again. He bit a little harder and she bucked back into his hand. He pulled against them both in rapid pulses.

All the while, he heard Jack building quickly. He could hear her strain, like her pending orgasm was something she had to fight for. Her voice was muffled again, but still sounded strangled and rough as the rhythmic slapping of Quinn's thrusts finally sped up. Jack very rarely cursed, but he was fairly sure a few of the muffled words he caught between impacts were not polite.

Bella arched her back, pulling her nipple free from his mouth with a pop. Suddenly able to see, he was forced to squint from the brightness of the light. All three of them were lit up like lanterns. The graceful sigils had gone from a dull candle light to an intensity that left afterimages burned into his vision after he shut his eyes.

Bella forced her metaphysical floodgates as wide as she could. The pressure was so strong that she could feel it physically, like a weight on her chest. The amount of power they'd built in such a short time was impressive. It wasn't the most she'd ever handled, but in other spells she'd had a place to put the power. In this case, she was putting the power into herself. Holding power was hard. She usually only ever drew and held as much as she needed. The encounter with the Grindylow had scared her enough that she had decided to draw and hold as much as she could. If she'd had this much power on the ship, she wouldn't have needed to attempt such a risky, complex ritual to power her curse. The mirror wouldn't have broken. She would have been able to act sooner. Fewer lives would have been lost, and they wouldn't have lost contact with Janie and Tonya again.

For Bella there was no stronger motivator than guilt. It always pushed her to do things she knew were risky. Now was no different. The pressure in her chest made her feel like she couldn't get a full breath. Her head felt light. The pleasure and power were so intense she could hardly focus. She wanted to pull back, to make Will stop, to breathe.

She could hear Jack, Friday, and even Will's lusty voices rising as their pleasure built to a crescendo. She smiled.

The key to the kind of magic she practiced was about recognizing the right moment to stop fighting the energy and let it do what it wanted. Control of a ritual was about creating the conditions to make those moments happen safely and predictably. It was never exact. She often felt like it was as much about instinct as it was about planning. More than anything though, it was about knowing when to surrender.

She clenched her eyes closed and focused, exhaling everything she could as the pressure built. Her whole body shook as the feeling of pressure increased. She felt blood rush to her head and silently prayed to her guiding stars. In this ritual, drawing power was tied to breathing. When she breathed steadily and evenly it made controlling the flow easier. There was another side to the breath and energy connection though. If she didn't breathe, it was like shutting the floodgates. The sigils brightened and they could all feel them begin to warm quickly. Friday gave her a worried look. The pressure of the power in her chest increased as her lungs fought against her will. She held as long as she could, whimpering and bucking against Will's hand as her face went red and her head started to feel light. Suddenly her body took over. She took a massive, involuntary breath. It was like punching a hole in a dam.

Bliss and power flooded through her as she came. With that single breath, the floodgates she'd struggled to hold open felt like they vanished. She was one with the power they'd built up. She could feel the others she was linked to like they were a part of her. Their orgasms surged for a moment, bright and hot and full, and just as quickly vanished through the ritual link and poured into Bella. Her blood thundered in her head and her vision felt like it was collapsing into a tunnel. No sound escaped her lips. The bright lights dimmed, plunging the tent into darkness.

She exhaled as slowly as she could, teetering on the edge of consciousness as the ritual collapsed.

"Wow," Will muttered.

Friday lazily licked the last of Will's semen off the back of her hand. "Wow indeed," she muttered. "Are you alright?"

"Mmm. That was per-FAKK!" Jack's muttered words morphed into panicked surprise. A series of thumps and crashes followed, accompanied by an animalistic screech.

Will's adrenaline spiked. Before he knew what he was doing he was scrambling naked out the door of the tent, leaving two surprised, tired witches behind him. He rushed to her side and reached for her, looking around for threats. "Jack, what-"

Suddenly he realized what he was doing and tried to stop, but before he could Jack's hand shot out without looking and gripped his in frantic desperation. Her eyes had been locked to the tent, but her expression changed from anger and fear to confusion. She slowly turned her head and looked at their hands. Then she locked eyes with Will. Then down at the rest of his naked body. Then to herself.

Will felt his mouth go dry. Jack's pale form glistened with sweat in the filtered moonlight. He could actually see faint wisps of steam rising off her gorgeous body. Their eyes drifted over each other, all other worries forgotten for a moment. Somehow, standing so close, hands twined, and seeing each other like this was more intimate than hearing each other moments ago. She looked back to his eyes, seeming utterly bewildered.

"Are you all right?" Bella asked breathlessly as she struggled out the door of Will's tent. Friday was helping her stay steady.

The moment vanished. Jack quickly let go of his hand and covered her breasts with her arm. With her other hand she pointed to her tent. It had collapsed. "Something's in the tent. It grabbed my hand." she said, suddenly angry again.

"Did you get a look at it?" Will asked.

"I was a bit distracted at the time," Jack snapped.

"Quinn?" Will asked the green warrior.

"Small," the big man said with a shake of his head. "It moved fast."

As they watched, the tent moved. A small shape created a dome beneath the canvas, shuffling and squirming as it tried to find an escape.

"Friday, can you grab my sword?' Will said to the doctor.

She made sure Bella was steady and ducked back inside. A moment later she returned with Will's entire sword belt.

The thing in the collapsed tent continued to push around inside.

Will took his sword and pulled it free of its sheath, leaving Friday holding the rest. Quinn glanced to Will and moved to the edge of the tent, preparing to lift the doorway up.

The thing inside made a high pitched sound that sounded frustrated and angry.

Bella's hands covered her mouth. "Oh no."

Will drew back his blade and readied to motion to Quinn, but Bella rushed forward. "No, don't!" She lifted the doorway herself and reached inside.

"Bella?" Will said cautiously, not sure what she was doing.

Bella gave Jack an apologetic look as a scared red and white monkey crawled into her arms.

Jack swore.

____________________________________

Mister Lynch pushed open the door flap to Lord Morant's large tent and came inside. "I found it."

"Good, give it here." Morant said without looking up from the makeshift table Lynch had built out of a pair of barrels and the lid of a crate. On the table was a thick copy of the Dictum Magistratum, the holy book of the Warden, and a single lit candle in a silver stand. On the book was a rosary. Within the ring of rosary beads, on top of the book, was a silver shaving bowl full of still water that reflected the light of the candle far more brightly than it should have.

Lynch handed Morant the desktop from the Captain's cabin. Morant carefully put the desktop next to the book and the bowl, then studied the map. He scanned Will's scrawled calculations, and the lines that had been drawn. He unfolded another, larger map and looked back and forth between them.

Suddenly the unnaturally bright reflection of the candle in the bowl flared so strongly that the water looked like it had caught fire. When it faded, the reflection in the water was not the inside of Morant's tent.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" The distorted figure reflected in the water inside in the silver shaving bowl was clearly terse.

"All too well," Lord Morant said flatly. "I would not be contacting you if it were not critical."

"What is it then?" the figure in the bowl said, rubbing her tired eyes. "Be quick, I do not have power to spare in this font."

"We've been shipwrecked," Lord Morant said.

"Not a good start to your endeavor, is it?" the voice quipped. "Are you safe?"

"Now, yes. The ship lost a dozen crew, but my men are fine. Only minor injuries," Morant said.

"How bad is the damage?" the voice asked.

"A large hole was punched in the prow," Morant said. "I do not have an estimate yet for how long until the ship can sail again, but I expect it to be weeks. Perhaps months, depending on the extent of the damage."

"Wouldn't that put your expedition into fall?" the voice asked. "As I understand, those northern waters get treacherous after summer ends."

"And the Drifts become even more impassible," Morant agreed. "I have a two week window in which to get moving again. I need a new ship."

"I could send a patrol to rescue you, but I don't have any spare ships," the voice said.

"I need a civilian vessel anyway. If you can get me to Barcola, I can do the rest." He picked up the table top and turned it over, holding the map above the bowl. "Can you make this out?"

"No," the voice in the bowl said. "What are you trying to show me?"

"A map," Morant said.

"All I see are vague shapes and colors," the wavering figure in the bowl said. "Your ritual is unstable."

"I am working under less than ideal conditions," Morant said with an exasperated sigh.

"Is the map marked?" the voice asked.

"Just quadrant lines and Sterling's indecipherable shorthand. Some arithmetic, drawn angles. It got rather wet," Morant said. "The only islands labeled are Prince's Cove and Barcola."

"What do you know for certain?" the voice asked.

"We are two days out of Barcola, on a northerly heading. The storm came from the east, so we were likely blown off course to the west."

"That would put you in the Shattered Isles. There's hundreds of islands in that archipelago," the voice in the bowl said with muted annoyance.

"Somewhere along the eastern edge, yes,' Morant agreed.

"Is the ship visible? Can you fly a distress flag?" the voice asked.

"We are beached on an inland lagoon," Morant said bitterly.

The voice in the bowl began laughing. "Lord Morant, I don't know what help you expect me to be. My ships are already spread thin."

"Offer a rescue bounty," Morant said tersely. "Five thousand sovereigns to the ship that finds us."

"Very well. This had better be coming out of your coffers and not mine," the voice said.

"You will be reimbursed," Morant said. "Just spread the word."

"First thing in the morning," the voice assured him. "If there's nothing else, I'd like to get back to bed."

"That is all," Morant said. "I'll contact you again when I have more information."

"Good night, Allistair,' the figure in the bowl said.

"Good night, Alexandra," Morant replied. He snuffed out the candle with a pinch of his fingers and the bowl became clear water again.

___________________________________

Belita's vision swam and her consciousness bobbed like a drowning man struggling to stay above water. The last of the notes of music had finally died, and the last of her crew had retired to their hammocks or passed out near the dying bonfire, leaving her alone with her thoughts. No matter how hard she had tried to banish them tonight, they had stayed with her. Between every laugh, every dance, and every shared story, her pain and guilt flowed back in. It was like trying to bail water with her bare hands.

She trudged through the sand aimlessly, muttering under her breath. She realized something was in her hand and lifted it, squinting through her double vision. It was her jeweled flask, the one she'd won from Captain Rhasp in a game of cut-throat cards that had nearly lived up to its name. She lifted it to her lips but found only drops. With a sneer of disgust she tossed it over her shoulder.

Lost in her grief she trudged aimlessly. When she remembered to focus her eyes she found herself standing on the shore, looking up at the Kestrel and the night sky.

She stared at the ship for a while, marveling at it the same way she did every time she saw it. She still couldn't believe the ship was hers. Most of the time it felt like a dream. Tonight, it felt like a nightmare.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to the ship. The gaping crack in the prow looked to her like an axe wound.