Northshore Writers Anthology 2023 by Northshore Writers Group

Author:Northshore Writers Group
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: New Zealand, Speculative poetry, short stories collection, Emerging talent, Horror anthologies and short stories, New Zealand authors, New Zealand fiction, writing group
Publisher: Northshore Press
Published: 2023-12-08T00:00:00+00:00

Abyssal Fire

When the royal warship the Sky Queen burns. Rhandras is brought before Duchess Blackthorn and ordered to investigate with assistance of the Redcloaks, an order of warrior priests sworn who maintain human rule over Rhandras’ kind.

About the author: Christopher McKinstry

Christopher’s passion for writing has been reinvigorated by joining the North Shore Writers Group. He studied at Auckland University, graduating with a Bachelor of Arts in History (Hons). He live in Auckland with his family and dog and always has a writing project on the go.

The blood moon carpeted the carnage in an eerie reddish light. A fierce wind desperately tried to deprive me of my cloak, while I equally desperately tried to hold onto it. Heat washed over my face as the timbers shrieked and roared, the hull twisting in on itself. It was a terrible way for a ship to go. Not at all an honourable death in battle.

Fire elementals danced among the ruins, spreading their burning gift. They were a noisome lot. Now, as I stood on the wharf, watching the flames devour the ship, I smiled.

The Sky Queen had once been a majestic ship. A warship, its sleek sides lined with closed gunports, sails furled about its masts. A powerful asset in the royal navy. No longer.

My mistress, Duchess Emma Blackthorn, was responsible for its protection. How would the king react to one of his ships burning under Duchess Blackthorn’s watch? I suppressed the urge to laugh.

I would have to return to her, my position at her court allowing me to work against the humans under their notice. She might blame me, as an abyssal. She would need someone to present to the king to avoid her own punishment. That someone couldn’t be me – I was her little abyssal, her pet, her useful servant. I could do things no human could, even with training.

I slipped into the crowd, pushing my way through, until I found an alley from which to further observe the unfolding destruction.

A throng of people formed at the docks, watching the great ship consumed. Many of the soldiers had to keep them from crowding too closely and endangering themselves and hindering the efforts to contain the blaze. Questions burned through them like the fire elementals would have.

“How did this happen? Who let an abyssal out?”

“These are Blackthorn’s ships! She’ll be furious.”

“Forget Blackthorn. What will the king do?”

“What if it was the Breachers?”

“They’re a myth. Or wasting their time. The breaches are sealed.”

Long before I manifested, the breaches between realms sealed. My people, fleeing their failed invasion of this realm, were trapped, subjugated. I shuddered at the thought of my once proud people being reduced to serving humans. The Breachers worked to find a way to reopen the breaches. Not a group I associated with at all.

A figure in a red cloak appeared, a helmet covering its face. I suppressed the urge to run. One of a ‘holy order’ that occasionally gave their services to nobles. Always on their own terms. For their own reasons.

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