NOVEL NEXT Chapter 26: Harbor Havoc
The road to Ebran unspooled before them like a gray ribbon draped over rolling hills. Five pairs of flame-orange hair streamed behind them, catching the morning light as they chewed up miles with each stride. The rhythmic percussion of their footfalls blended into a single drumbeat as they settled into their synchronized pace.
"Cinder, stop hogging the sarcasm!" Kindle called, voice barely carrying over the rush of air. "You've been reconstituted for all of one hour, and you're already monopolizing our shared personality disorder."
Cinder, fully clothed now thanks to a hasty stop at a roadside trading post, rolled her eyes with such force it was a miracle they didn't generate their own centrifugal momentum. "I've been dissolved in acid, reconstructed from pure flame, and forced to wear someone else's undergarments. I've earned my emotional rage."
Ash, running in perfect step beside her, gave Cinder a sidelong glance. "The metaphysical implications of your consciousness persisting post-dissolution are fascinating. One wonders if death itself recognizes our fractured existence as legitimate targets."
"Yes," Cinder replied dryly, "that's exactly what I was contemplating while my skin bubbled off. Metaphysics. Not, you know, excruciating pain."
Ember, leading the formation out of habit rather than necessity, raised a hand to signal an approaching ridge. "Ebran should be visible once we crest this hill. Everyone remember the plan?"
"There's a plan?" Pyra asked, genuinely surprised. "I thought it was just 'run really fast, grab the research, run really fast back home.' When did we add complexity?"
"Between your resurrection and Cinder's," Ember replied, her tone equal parts patient and exasperated. "Standard protocol. Guild medallions visible, casual explanation for our speed if questioned, no unnecessary flame displays."
"So," Kindle clarified, "all the boring parts of having superpowers."
"Precisely." Ember's mouth twitched with suppressed amusement. "At least until we have the research in hand."
Cresting the hill, they skidded to a coordinated halt, five pairs of boot heels digging shallow trenches in the soft earth. Below them, Ebran spilled across the coastline like a stack of colorful plates that someone had arranged haphazardly on the edge of a vast blue tablecloth.
The city's famous tiered design became immediately apparent—layers of buildings crawling down the cliffside, each level distinct in architecture and purpose.
But what seized their attention wasn't the city itself. It was the harbor.
Boats. Hundreds of them.
From tiny fishing skiffs to elegant sailboats with billowing canvases in vibrant hues. They bobbed in the protected cove, lashed together into floating neighborhoods of commerce and recreation. Beyond the bustling cove, the open ocean stretched out to the horizon.
"That's... a lot of boats," Pyra commented, her usual exuberance momentarily dampened by genuine awe.
"The Tide Festival," Ash supplied, eyes reflecting the kaleidoscope of colors below. "Marta mentioned it during our caravan journey. An annual gathering to celebrate the region's maritime heritage."
Ember consulted a small pamphlet she'd purchased at the trading post. "Which, according to this, should be starting... right about now."
As if on cue, bells began to ring throughout the city—not the solemn, measured tones of Amaranth's time-keeping, but a cacophony of different pitches and rhythms that somehow coalesced into a melody just this side of musical.
"Tide bells," Ember explained, tucking the pamphlet away. "They signal the water level changes."
"Also useful during fog or storms," Ash added. "Sailors navigate by sound when visibility fails."
Pyra, who'd been fidgeting throughout the conversation, burst out with, "Great! Fascinating! Bells! Can we go now? I haven't eaten anything since those dried berries, and I'm starving!"
"We should establish a plan first," Ember cautioned, but Pyra was already halfway down the hillside, her boots leaving faint scorch marks in the dewy grass.
"Plan established!" she called back, grinning. "Find food, find information, find Galen's mysterious research, avoid getting melted by acid monsters!"
"That's not a plan, that's a wish list," Cinder muttered, but she followed nonetheless, the others falling into step behind her.
They reached the city's edge as the tide bells transitioned from their chaotic alerting rhythm to a steadier, more harmonious pattern. The main thoroughfare leading into Ebran was remarkably clear of traffic—a suspicious absence that should have been their first warning.
"Seems quiet," Kindle remarked, stretching her arms overhead. "I thought port cities were supposed to be bustling hives of activity and questionable life choices."
"Perhaps it's the hour," Ash suggested, though the sun's position suggested mid-morning rather than any unreasonable time.
"Or perhaps," said Cinder, pointing toward a large banner suspended between buildings further along the road, "it's because everyone's at the festival."
The banner, fluttering in the sea breeze, proclaimed in elaborate script: "27TH ANNUAL TIDE FESTIVAL - ALL CITIZENS AND VISITORS WELCOME!" Below this, smaller text clarified: "Harbor Entry Fee Doubled During Ceremonies."
Pyra, who'd been craning her neck to see over the rooftops toward the shoreline, turned to face the others. "Right. Harbor. Food. Research. Let's go!"
"You can't just go charging in—" Ember began, but Pyra had already vanished around a corner, her flame-colored hair disappearing like the tail of a startled fox.
"...before we assess the potential risks," Ember finished, sighing.
The harbor district thronged with more people than they'd seen since arriving in this world. Merchants hawked their wares from canvas stalls lining the cobbled streets. Street performers of every stripe—jugglers, fire-eaters, and storytellers among them—attracted small knots of spectators, while wandering musicians filled the air with competing melodies that fought for attention and coin.
"Keep together," Ember instructed as they navigated the crowd. "This is a prime environment for pickpockets and other unsavory types."
"But looooook," Pyra whined, pointing to a stall where a vendor was literally juggling balls of blue fire. "Fire juggling! I could totally do that better."
"Yes, and that's precisely why we're not stopping," Cinder replied, grabbing Pyra's arm and steering her through a gap in the crowd. "The last thing we need is a pyrokinetic competition."
They pushed forward, five flame-haired women creating a distinctive procession through the press of bodies. Their matching appearances drew curious glances, but in a city celebrating with costumes and pageantry, they weren't quite unusual enough to cause a stir. Yet.
The main boardwalk stretched along the harbor's edge, offering the best views of the boat procession now forming in the bay. Smaller vessels arranged themselves in a pattern resembling a massive flower, while larger ships took positions at what would be the petals' tips.
"It's beautiful," Kindle breathed, leaning dangerously far over the railings. "Look how the light hits those shell decorations!"
"The pattern represents the sacred geometry of the tide cycle," Ash observed. "Fascinating how maritime cultures develop spiritual symbolism around predictable natural phenomena to—"
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"Ooh, what's that?" Pyra interrupted, her attention captured by a vendor pushing a cart laden with what appeared to be skewers of translucent, faintly glowing meat.
"Moonjelly skewers!" the vendor called, his voice carrying over the crowd. "Caught this very morning! Seasoned with Shimmerwood spice! Six copper crescents each!"
"What's a moonjelly?" Kindle asked, already reaching for her pouch of coins.
"A type of bioluminescent jellyfish native to Ebran's bay," Ash explained. "Reportedly, they absorb trace magical energies from underwater ley lines, resulting in flesh that temporarily enhances one's natural affinities when consumed."
"So... magic food that makes our powers stronger?" Pyra's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. "We are absolutely trying these."
"We should focus on reaching the Archives," Ember began, but Kindle was already handing over coins to the delighted vendor.
"Six skewers, please," she requested. "One extra for scientific testing purposes."
"Only five of you, miss," the vendor pointed out, already preparing the order.
"Trust me," Kindle winked, "we'll need the extra."
The skewers looked otherworldly—chunks of translucent flesh that seemed to pulse with internal light, sprinkled with crystalline spices that refracted the sunlight into tiny rainbows. The smell was oddly pleasant, like honeysuckle with a hint of salt and something completely unfamiliar.
"Here goes nothing," Pyra announced, taking an enthusiastic bite before anyone could voice second thoughts.
A collective pause hung in the air as the other four watched Pyra intently. After a moment, she exhaled a small cloud of orange sparks.
"Huh," she said finally. "Tastes like... spicy watermelon? But also kind of... electric? It's making my tongue tingle."
"Any noticeable enhancement of pyrokinetic abilities?" Ash inquired, examining her own skewer with academic interest.
Pyra held up her hand, summoning a small flame. The normally orange fire emerged with unexpected force and a distinct purplish tinge.
"Whoa!" She laughed in delight, nearly setting a nearby banner ablaze. "That's new!"
"Careful!" Ember extinguished the flame with a quick gesture, glancing around nervously. "We can't draw attention to—"
"How is it?" Kindle interrupted, already taking her first bite. "Oh! Oh wow. That is... that is something."
Within minutes, all five had sampled the moonjelly. Each reacted differently.
For Kindle, the spice left a warming sensation on her tongue, while Cinder's throat itched as if she'd swallowed nettles. Ash, characteristically unreadable, simply chewed thoughtfully before pronouncing the flavor "palatably saline."
"Well," Ember said with a sigh, "nothing ventured, nothing gained." Steeling herself, she took a bite, bracing for the unknown.
It wasn't terrible. There was a refreshing quality to the moonjelly, like sucking on a peppermint after a meal, but with an added sea breeze note that felt cleansing.
"This," Kindle declared, finishing her skewer with undisguised pleasure, "is the best thing we've eaten since arriving in this world."
"Better than those cinnamon buns at Fendale's bakery?" Pyra challenged.
"Different category," Kindle amended. "Those were comfort food. This is adventure food."
"Hey, we still gotta go to the Archives," Ember reminded them, her mouth still tingling from the aftertaste. "The procession's starting, and once it does, navigating the boardwalk is gonna be a pain."
Indeed, the crowd had begun pressing closer to the railings as the ceremonial boats started their synchronized movement. Musicians positioned on various vessels played instruments that somehow carried perfectly over the water, creating a haunting melody that seemed to make the very air vibrate in sympathy.
"We could take that side path," Cinder suggested, pointing to a narrower walkway that ran parallel to the main boardwalk but at a slightly higher elevation. "Looks less crowded."
The alternative route proved both blessing and curse. The thinner wooden walkway offered a clearer path toward their destination—the massive lift that would carry them to the second tier—but it also positioned them directly above the procession's path, with nothing but a flimsy railing between them and a twenty-foot drop to the water below.
"Single file," Ember instructed as they navigated the precarious path. "And no flame displays, even with our exciting new jellyfish-enhanced capabilities."
They moved carefully along the walkway, which creaked ominously beneath their combined weight. Below, the lead vessel of the procession—an ornate barge carved to resemble a massive sea dragon—glided beneath them, close enough that they could have reached down to touch its decorative scales.
"It's incredible," Kindle whispered, her eyes reflecting the prismatic light from the shell decorations. "I almost wish we—ACHOO!"
The sneeze came without warning, a violent explosion of sound accompanied by a shower of actual golden sparks that cascaded over the railing and onto the ceremonial barge below. Several decorative elements immediately caught fire.
"Oh no," Kindle gasped, covering her mouth in horror. "The jellyfish!"
Before anyone could react, Pyra sneezed as well, sending a spray of purple-tinged flames arcing through the air. Then Cinder. Then Ember. Only Ash remained sneeze-free, her eyes watering with suppressed sinus pressure.
"The moonjelly appears to have triggered a histamine response," she observed mildly. "Fascinating that our shared biology would make us unanimously allergic to a native species of this—ACHOO!"
The final sneeze sent spectral blue flames washing over the walkway itself, igniting the aged wood in several places.
"Fire!" someone in the crowd below shouted, pointing up at them. "The walkway's on fire!"
"So is the ceremonial barge!" another voice cried.
For one crystallized moment, five identical faces wore the same expression of dawning horror, mirroring one another's wide eyes and open-mouthed shock. Then panic set in.
The walkway, already structurally dubious, chose that moment to surrender to the inevitability of collapse. Wood splintered beneath their feet as flames consumed the ancient supports.
"Move!" Ember shouted, already pushing Pyra and Kindle toward the distant lift station. "Run!"
They managed three steps before the entire section gave way, sending all five plummeting toward the water below.
Time slowed as their superhuman reflexes kicked in. Their descent, which would have been an instant to anyone else, stretched out like a gradual descent in an elevator. They had just enough time to exchange a series of frantic glances before the shock of icy seawater enveloped them.
Underwater, everything was a flurry of bubbles and confusion. The water—far colder than any of them had anticipated—shocked their senses, and for a terrifying heartbeat, they lost all sense of direction and depth.
Pyra, who'd had the presence of mind to take a breath, surfaced first, erupting from the bay like a humanoid geyser. Her flaming hair steamed and hissed as the water evaporated, wreathing her in a cloud of vapor.
"Is everyone—" she began, only to be interrupted by another sneeze that sent a fresh burst of sparks into the surrounding water, causing a small explosion of steam.
Ember broke the surface next, gasping for air. Kindle followed closely behind, sputtering and shivering. Cinder and Ash emerged last, their expressions identical masks of surprise and discomfort.
"What the hell happened?" Ember demanded, her sodden uniform clinging to her awkwardly as she treaded water. "Why did the jellyfish affect us like that?"
"The elemental resonance," Ash began, her hair streaming water with every motion of her head, "seems to have triggered an adverse—ACHOO!"
Ash's sneeze sent another gout of blue flame spewing forth, igniting the wood of the half-sunken barge that had been the central focal point of the Tide Festival procession. Several members of the boat's crew dove overboard in panic.
"We need to get out of here before we cause a riot," Cinder urged, already swimming toward a nearby pier. "No more sneezes! Whatever you do, don't—ACHOO!"
Her sneeze ignited a section of rope netting that had been used to suspend colorful shell lanterns over the harbor.
"Blast," Cinder muttered as the burning netting collapsed into the water, sending up clouds of hissing steam.
With varying levels of grace, they swam to the wooden supports that lined the pier's edge and clambered out of the water, dragging themselves onto the boardwalk by their sodden limbs.
They lay there for a moment, breathing heavily. Ember recovered first, hauling herself to her feet and scanning their surroundings warily.
"We should move," she said urgently. "We're too conspicuous here."
"Literally smokin'," Pyra agreed, gesturing to her still-steam-wreathed hair.
From the boardwalk came the approaching footsteps of what sounded suspiciously like armored officials. A contingent of city guards, resplendent in Ebran's blue-and-gold livery, rounded the corner.
"There!" the lead guard cried, pointing an accusing finger at the soggy quintet. "Those are the saboteurs! Detain them at once!"
Pyra, Ember, and Ash scrambled to their feet. Cinder and Kindle followed suit, albeit with less enthusiasm.
"Let's talk about this," Ember suggested, holding up her hands placatingly. "We were just enjoying the festival—we didn't mean to damage any property."
"Those five," the guard commander declared, ignoring her entirely, "they're not from around here, not even close. Look at their hair. Foreign spies, sent to disrupt our sacred festival."
"Sir," Cinder interrupted, stepping forward, "we're not spies. We're from the Guild of—ACHOO!"
The ensuing spray of purple-tinged sparks caused the lead guard to stumble backward into the man behind him. Both collapsed to the boardwalk in a heap of flailing limbs and clattering armor.
"Alright, that does it," the commander grunted, pushing his fallen comrades aside. "Guards, to me! Take the arsonists into custody!"
"Uh, Ember?" Kindle murmured, edging closer. "Any chance we're not about to get arrested for an accident of spicy jellyfish allergies?"