Chapter 99: Dictum of Sweet Dreams

Aboard Shimmer, Will was staring at the setting sun, eyes narrowed for a moment before he glanced away, diverting his gaze to the sails bobbing all around them, dyed orange by the sunset.

Lamps were starting to come out as the sailors around them began to work through the night to coordinate the reconstruction of the Flotilla.

Despite the sheer chaos, it was moving faster than Will thought possible, owing to superhuman effort and years of practice.

Will was pleased to note his political backer was still alive, slightly less pleased to note that the composition of The Flotilla had shifted drastically.

Here and there he was able to pick out the absence of a ship he’d seen earlier, and invariably, it was either a neutral ship or one that allied with a different deity.

Meanwhile, ships that bore the symbol of Granesh across their sides clustered tighter together, becoming more and more prevalent as The Flotilla was stitched together.

There’s one, there’s one, there’s one… Will thought, picking them out as he scanned the surroundings.

According to the headcrab matriarch, each ship captain got votes loosely based on the number of people aboard their vessel, and as soon as the Flotilla was put back together, the church of Granesh would likely have a supermajority.

Which meant, once the reconstruction was complete, the church would make the rules, and complaining to them about them sending people to sink his ship would be pointless, since they would excuse themselves.

With this in mind, Will hopped overboard and jogged over to the Floating Church of Holdna.

Sailors called out to him and waved or shook their heads ruefully as he jogged past.

William Oh doesn’t get wet, Will thought, waving back.

Will stood at the base of the Floating Church of Holdna, which was a damn sorrier sight than The Church of Granesh. It was made from cheaper supplies, the worksmanship was solid, but lacked the sanding, varnish and gold inlay that gave the church of Granesh such a luxurious feel.

“Permission to come aboard!” Will called up.

“What the-OH!” A priestess said, glancing over the side and spotting Will bobbing up and down on the waves beside their vessel.

“Granted!”

Will climbed the side of the ship and found himself face-to-face with the same gnarled old woman that had overseen his matches on the Fifth Floor. She had the slender strength of a person who never slows down in old age, wearing warm sailing clothes.

“Holdna sees you, young man.” The white-haired priestess said, hands folded inside her cloak. “How can I help? Do you have an injury or concern?”

“Are you following me?” Will asked with a frown.

“I go where Holdna dictates. I dare not presume her intent.” She dodged the question.

“I’m sorry, I never got your name.” Will said.

“Saint Charnesa.”

Well, Saint Charnesa, were you aware that the floating Church of Granesh is going to take control of The Flotilla?”

“Mm…yes.” Charnesa said.

Will cocked his head.

“And did you have…any thoughts about that?”

“The Church of Granesh, in their desire to achieve purity and stability will always push just a bit too far and foment chaos and revolution. They are their own worst enemies, in many ways. I take their current overreach as a sign that something or someone will soon tear it all down.”

“Can that someone…be us?” Will asked, motioning between the saint and himself.

“Sure.” Charnesa said with a shrug.

“I was hoping to have your backing in the event that Saint Jairus tries to get me killed somehow through legalese. I hope it doesn’t bother you, but I already talked with the Last Chance Inn, and they -”

“You have our support. We will join our voices with the headcrabs.” Saint Charnesa said, nodding.

“Buhh…” Will hadn’t revealed that detail. And the blasé attitude towards them…

“Our goddess is the bride of Chaos.” The saint said with an amused smile. “You’ll find us an easygoing lot.”

“Well, in that case, I need help ‘rescuing’ the sailors aboard a few ships that are about to ‘mysteriously sink’.”

“We’d be happy to help.”

Loth then proceeded to sink a handful of Graneshian vessels, generously offering to house them aboard Shimmer until they regained their own housing.

Some eight-hundred Graneshians were displaced in a matter of hours, roughly the same population as Ashwood, Will’s home outside the tower.

Naturally there was a great deal of panic, suspicion and finger-pointing, but Loth was too clever to get caught, and Will had spent the entire night standing in a beam of lamplight aboard Shimmer.

Being conspicuously innocent.

Shimmer went from being an overly spacious ship that was haunted by a sense of emptiness, to a bustling village unto itself, with no less than ten absolutely livid captains who had lost their ships, and therefore, their authority and voting privileges in The Flotilla.

It was a calculated gamble, bringing together ten crews of the same faith. On one hand it converted ten church votes into ten for Will. On the other hand, they could easily ally themselves against Will and try to take control of the ship.

They would have to do so through open mutiny, though, as none of them were the kind of captain that could beat Will in a duel. Their ships had been selected for that reason.

To nip any thought of mutiny in the bud, Will had Anna split, instructing her to take care of their guests until they departed.

She had already revealed her Ability to the other followers of Granesh that they had released, so there was no point being sneaky about it anymore.

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Having her be everywhere at once, keeping an eye on everything at once, helping every single one of their displaced residents settle in would make things go smoother, and it would also send a strong message about who was in control of Shimmer.

He wouldn’t assign Brianna something as amoral as cold-blooded murder, but a soft show of force? Will was perfectly fine with asking her to do that.

Once Will was sure everything was going according to plan, he ducked into his room, pulled out the bed with its decoy, and crawled into the secret hatch underneath, curled up into a ball against the rough wood before finally allowing himself to fall sleep.

…

It felt like less than a second later, Will opened his eyes to the glare of a light shone directly into his pupils.

“Tell me about your dreams.” A voice spoke, and Will recognized it as Bron, the bishop that had followed him up to the Fifth Floor after Will had…sort of robbed his church in The Ring during their visit to Travis’s family.

To be fair, they started it by trying to kill me.

Will narrowed his eyes, looking past the lamplight blasting him in the face and spotted Bron, cleaning a knife with alcohol and a bloody rag.

How the Abyss? Will thought, glancing from side to side, his stomach sinking as he realized he was restrained.

His arms and legs were bound to an unnervingly familiar crucifix.

Immediately, Will summoned the Phantom Hand, unleashing a cannonball through the space the bishop occupied.

Phantom Hand seemed to react sluggishly, oozing towards Bron and dropping the cannonball on the ground, not even doing the bare minimum of dropping on his toes.

Am I drugged? Debuffed?

“Not going to answer?” Bron asked, raising the knife.

“I don’t really dream that much,” Will said, testing the restraints. There was a fuzzy lack of realism that Will attributed to drugs.

But how did they get me out of Shimmer? They would have to sink it before they could pry him out of it.

A line of fire was drawn across his chest as Bron dragged the knife across his skin, eliciting a cry of pain.

…Wait, something’s not right.

“Do you have a strange empathy for certain corpses?”

Cut.

“Do certain animals seem to like you more than they should?”

Cut.