Chapter 270: Into the storm
Irwin's growl was drowned out by the howling winds and crackling lighting as he struggled with the helm. With a powerful pull, he turned the helm further to the left, straining against the winds. The Concerto leaned against the wind, a bubble of pale energy around it battered by torrents of rain and the occasional burst of lightning. Massive waves of chaotic soulforce rippled around, pouring in from the split-apart barrier, their screeching dissonant songs of frenzy like a cacophony of crazed screaming and out-of-tune music.
Come on, come on! Irwin thought, trying to will the ship to move.
Both of his selves were there, one part paying attention to the small pushes and signs of the ship, the other focusing fully on steering. Without this, he knew he'd never have been able to guide the ship that was being shoved and pulled in all directions all the time.
The deck below his feet finally turned, and with too little distance to spare, it began moving away from the rippling, barely functioning barrier it had been careening towards.
Irwin's knuckles were white from tension as he steered the ship back to the center of the corridor. Taking a deep breath, he looked around. Greldo stood at the front of the deck, holding on to Hou'dor's massive shape as he scanned the distance. None of the others were on deck, though one of Earila's Faerits sat in Irwin's pocket. If needed, she could teleport in to help him.
"How much further?" Irwin shouted.
"I can see the bend," Greldo roared without looking. "Ten more minutes at this speed!"
Please don't be another dead end, Irwin thought.
A heavy shove came as the wind pushed them to the side, and his worries disappeared in the background as he resumed his fight for control.
After what felt like forever, he saw the bend in the distance, the hole in the top of the barrier turning to a thin tear. Just before he reached the bend, the storm slowed slightly. Still loud and dangerous, it was now within the ability of Hou'dor and the others to withstand. The constant pulling and pushing slowly stopped, and the constant deafening roar faded to a more manageable howling, like the storms back in Malorin when he'd been in his bedroom.
Irwin's smaller-self took a moment and wallowed in the flash of childhood memory while his main-self kept his focus on the ship.
He guided The Concerto along the slight bent and into the, by comparison, calm branch. As he did, he looked to the side where the remnants of a torn-apart branch were no more than some remnant barriers that led off into the depths of the pitch-black storm. Both the top, bottom and left sides were already mostly destroyed, with a section of the right wall showing that a long branch leading to a rank two world had been there at one time.