by Drew Wagar
Almost unchanging.
Meru as a timekeeper was waiting for the return of Mayura, a mark that crossed the surface of Lacaille on a regular basis and which served as the start of all time measurements. Meru was still learning to predict it well, apprenticed as he was to one of the master timekeepers of Amar. Some said that Mayura was a mark on the surface of Lacaille, old records made mention of ‘spots’ that appeared and disappeared, yet Mayura was remarkably constant in its behaviour. Meru favoured the view that it was some kind of object that passed between their home and the glow of Lacaille on occasion as he thought it was the wrong shape for a spot, assuming Lacaille was a sphere. Unfortunately it was impossible to see Mayura at any other time, so he was in a minority amongst the timekeepers. Not that it really mattered. Mayura always returned, hence its value in measuring the passing of all things. Without it, how could you keep time?
Fisherman always preferred to have a timekeeper on board, but there were never enough to go around, so in recent rounds it had become custom for apprentices to serve time aboard ships, partly to give them some practical experience, but mostly to allow for a little more revenue into the Timekeepers’ Guild.
The fish were loaded and the crew turned their attention to hoisting the sails. The Bethany was a small vessel, with just a pair of masts. The sails were up and trimmed within minutes. Just as the ship was coming about Meru heard the small bell that sounded as the sixth chime ran out. He climbed into the cabin to set the seventh timer running, spinning it around and locking it into place.
He was climbing out of the cabin when the ship lurched, throwing him back down against the wall. He caught his head on a timber and swore at the pain, avoiding a fall down the hatch into the hold. A splash of water washed across the deck, frothing before running out of the scuppers. He frowned in surprise, struggling up and clambering on to the deck as the Bethany righted itself.
Beyond the ship, rolling towards their distant home was a wave, perhaps three or four hands in height. It had caught the ship broadside on as they’d made their turn and was now undulating away across the sea.
The crew were pointing and gesturing at it in surprise. Meru looked at the captain. His face was grim as he strode down towards them.
‘Full sail, keep it to our bow. There’ll be more. We need to be making our way home.’
‘What is it?’ Meru asked, never having seen such a thing before. The Straithian Sea was flat and calm for the most part. Yes there were storms, but clouds and lightning preceded them and the fishermen knew to stay in port.
‘Big storm to the far sunward I’d be guessin’,’ the captain replied. ‘The wind will pick up. Time for us to be back in port.’
As if to underline his statement, a gust of wind blasted across the ship, roaring in Meru’s ears. The sails flapped and then billowed into shape, the ship lurching forward and the masts creaking with the strain. Spray flashed across the surface of the sea.
The crew bent to their tasks, lashing down hatches and adjusting the rigging of the vessel. Meru looked aft and was alarmed to see that a thick fog was growing under the warm light of Lacaille. As he watched he could see it rolling and boiling towards them. The ship was well underway now, a silvery wake flowing behind it, but the fog was flowing faster, reaching towards them. The captain watched, stoic and unmoved, but Meru could see his clasp on the helm was tight, his knuckles white through his tanned skin.
The men turned as they finished their tasks, watching in horror as the fog inexorably ran the ship down. Tendrils of mist flashed past, the wind rising. Meru blinked as his face was quickly soaked by flying spray. Lacaille’s glow was turned scarlet by the rising wall of whiteness and then it faded to a faint orb before disappearing into the gloom.
The air turned cold and the whiteness deepened into a steely grey. Meru watched the blue sky overhead fade as the fog surrounded the ship and then his heart hammered as it swept over them, obscuring everything, the faint and distant line of smoke on the horizon was lost to sight.
They were blind and helpless.
The wind dropped at the same moment, the ship slowing to a drift, gently bobbing in an impenetrable world of greyness. Visibility was perhaps a dozen paces, no more. The sails went slack. The ship was becalmed in the nothingness.
The silence was oppressive, the men looked at one another, but none dared utter a word. Unbidden, Meru recalled the outlandish stories told in the warm comfort of a dockside tavern, tentacled beasts that stole ships from the surface of the sea, dragging them under never to be seen again, or flying creatures that took men from the decks, dashing them into the sea, or carrying them off to remote eyries where …
He shook his head. They were stories, that was all. There was danger here, but it was from nature’s own more than adequate store of weather, not whatever strange denizens lurked in the depths of the sea.
‘Hold fast,’ the captain called, raising his voice. ‘We’ll stay our course. The wind’ll come back strong and we’ll be runnin’ afore it.’
Meru found himself calmed by the words. The captain had sailed these waters for years. They’d be in port soon enough, with a story worth an ale or two …
A breath of wind fluttered the sails and then the ship was moving again, but not forwards. Meru looked over the side to see an abrupt current was flowing beneath them, pulling them back. The ship turned, broadside on before completing a turn into the current, helpless at the mercy of the flowing water beneath it.
‘Meru, you’ve got the best eyes, get forward and tell us what you see.’
Meru did as he was bid, but the fog was just as impenetrable from the bow. He squinted into it, moisture streamed from his face and soaked his dark hair as he tried to peer into the murk. Was there a suggestion of light? Yes, it was growing brighter again.
Meru’s yell of triumph died on his lips as the Bethany emerged from the fog bank. He jolted back from the edge of the bow as his eyes took in the scene before him. The fog had retreated into a funnel of swirling whiteness above them, revealing the surface of the sea a few hundred paces ahead. But the surface was no longer smooth gently undulating. In just a moment he took in a swirling depression in the ocean, a whirling maelstrom, the pit of which he could not see, disappearing down into the depths. The sea was swirling at a speed he couldn’t comprehend.
His yell turned to terror as the Bethany lurched to starboard, caught in the rotation at the extremities of the whirlpool. The crew was flung across the deck, sea water almost swamping the ship. Only a deft turn by the captain to adjust the ship’s line prevented it capsizing.
Lightning flickered above them and then rain descended, splashing across the decks and soaking them in moments. Wind rose around them, blustering one way and back again. The sails snapped taut in one direction and then another, the masts creaking with the strain.
‘Get the sails stowed, or the masts’ll fall!’
Meru saw the captain gesturing from the helm. The men jumped to the rigging. Lightning crackled again and Meru saw them silhouetted against a darkening sky, wraiths climbing the ropes of the stricken vessel.
A wave came from the portside, splashing across the decks. The ship rolled away. Meru lost his footing, landing hard and slithering across the smooth planks. He caught hold of the supports for the bowsprit and managed to wedge himself against it, holding his breath as the water washed over him. The instinct to gasp out was overpowering. He clenched shut his eyes and mouth. It felt like an eternity but he was only submerged for brief moments. He shook his head to clear the water away, trying to get his bearings once again.
Yells reached his ears and he watched helpless as two of the men on the rigging lost their grip and plummeted into the sea. They were swallowed up, lost in the swirling froth. The ship righted itself, but then rolled in the opposite direction. Meru could see the men on the other side clinging on for dear life.
With a rending crack, the main mast broke. Meru stared in horror as the rigging went slack, throwing the desperate
men into the sea. Then the mast was falling, ropes snapping and twisting back, writhing in the air. Meru froze for a moment, his heart hammering in his chest before the mast swung towards him in an ever accelerating arc.
His feet slipped on the wet greasy planks as he tried to backpedal away from it. He retreated, banging his head on the raised bow, half stunning himself. Through blurred vision Meru saw the mast rush towards him, there was no way to escape, nowhere to run.
My parents will never know, not that they’d care …
Ropes twisted and tangled, debris clattered about him, splinters flying as the deck cracked up and smashed under the impact. Meru closed his eyes and waited for the end.
He felt the deck twist under him, heard a deafening impact, something hit him on the head. It hurt, but the pain registered less than the surprise. He opened his eyes.
The mast had missed him by less than a hand’s width, the tangled ropes having pulled it to one side as it fell. He gasped, mouth open in shock, hardly able to believe it. Another wave swamped the ship, soaking him once more. He nearly choked, coughing to clear his lungs as he staggered to his feet.
His elation at still being alive died. In horror he watched the stern of the Bethany submerge in the churning waters, the sea rolling across the hatches, ripping them off and flooding the lower hull. There was no sign of the captain, the wheel at the stern of the ship was abandoned and swung one way and then the other as if controlled by a demented spirit. The second mast had fallen astern, smashing the wheelhouse to splinters along with Meru’s precious timekeepers. There was no sign of anyone else. Water was rolling up the deck as the ship foundered, going down by the stern.
Meru felt the bow rise up underneath him. He heard the cracks and groans as the timber of the Bethany came apart under the strain. Spray blasted up from the wooden slated vents under his feet. He climbed on to the bow as the ship sank, desperately trying to stay afloat.
Lightning crashed above him, thunder rolling around the turbulent sky. Another wave pounded past, irresistible. Meru tried to hold on but his grip was ripped painfully away. He struggling to keep his head above the water.
He caught a final rain-slashed view of the Bethany as it sank under the surging surface of the sea. A suction took him under, he struggled in vain against the current. The light faded above him, a terrifyingly unfamiliar darkness the only accompaniment to the burning in his lungs.
Then there was nothing at all.
Harsh cries roused him to consciousness, along with pain in his arm. For a moment all was disorientation.
Where?
He blinked, bright unfocused light causing him to squint.
The darkness …
Thoughts slowly assembled and forced themselves across his confused mind. He shifted slightly as his muscles twinged in response.
An alarmed squawk sounded harsh and close in his ears. He raised his head and found himself looking into the bright orange eyes of some kind of small leathery reptile. It was dark brown in colour, with a long beak filled with tiny sharp teeth, finished with a hooked bill. Short leathery wings were folded neatly behind it, slightly outstretched as it adjusted its balance. Sharp clawed talons explained the pain in his arm. He was lying outstretched; the creature was perching on him, taking exploratory pecks at the flesh on his arm.
The creature turned its head to regard him, revealing a third eye in the centre of its head. Meru jolted in surprise. That evoked a vigorous flap and another screech. Meru batted at the creature, striking an ineffectual blow, but it was enough for it to decide its prey wasn’t dead after all and flap off into the sky. Meru, exhausted, watched it disappear into the distance. He’d never seen anything like it before.
Some of the stories were true then!
He felt dizzy and ill, as if he’d been drinking too much brew. He raised his head to gain his bearings, as the memories came flooding back into his mind.
The ship?
He looked around, his mind clearer with every passing moment.
He was clinging to what appeared to be part of the bow of the stricken Bethany, a roughly square piece of the deck half his length on each side, partly awash. He could see nothing else. The maelstrom was gone, above him nothing but clear blue sky. Lacaille was off to his right, glowing as serenely as ever, warm and comforting.
He gingerly raised himself up, looking around him. Still nothing. He called out, but no voices answered from the endless gently rolling sea.
Instinctively he looked to the horizon, but a scan of it revealed no sign of the tell-tale smoke rising from his home. He was lost.
A knot of fear turned in his stomach, causing him to shudder and slip from the debris he was clinging to. He wrestled himself back up, blood pounding in his ears. He felt his heart thump.
Breathing deeply he tried to calm his thoughts. Timekeepers had to be able to think things through logically, work things out properly. They didn’t make mistakes. He forced himself to breathe deeply until his racing heart slowed.
As best he could he checked himself over. He had scrapes and bruises, but other than a throbbing headache he didn’t seem to be too worse for wear. His clothes were intact and he still had a knife at his side, though he’d lost both his shoes.
Alive, but for how long?
He looked at the debris around him. It was definitely part of the deck, just aft of the bow. He remembered the distinctive whorls in the furler planks. He’d been standing on them just a few spells before.
How much time has passed?
It was impossible to tell. Without his timekeeping equipment there was no way to be sure. It was near the end of the sixth chime when the maelstrom had overtaken them, but there was no way to work out how long he might have been unconscious after the Bethany went down.
He looked up at Lacaille again, there was no sign of Mayura crossing the golden disk. It was possible he’d missed it but he thought it unlikely, it would mean he’d been out for a number of stretches. He didn’t feel hungry yet, so not that much time could have passed. Mayura was due after the sleeping in two stretches time, at first chime on the next stretch. If he assumed that hadn’t happened yet, he’d not been drifting for long, so therefore he couldn’t have drifted far. That meant that he wouldn’t be too far from the place the Bethany went down. There was no telling how far off course they’d been pulled in those desperate moments, but it couldn’t have been more than a few marks at most …
The smoke from the fires in Amar was directly shadeward just before the maelstrom struck. It must still be that way!
Taking a deep breath and pleased with his reasoning, he kicked around until he was pointing directly away from Lacaille, grasped the edges of the debris and kicked with his feet, making slow progress across the endless track of the Straithian Sea.
He’d been moving in this fashion for a spell or so when a thought occurred to him.
The flying creature … how did it get out here?
He stopped and thought for a moment. It had clawed feet, definitely some kind of land animal. It might have been able to fly long distances, but it would have to land at some point – perhaps its eyrie was close by?
It flew shaderight, not shadewards …
He looked to his left instinctively, but the ocean was the same as ever.
Carefully he clambered up on to the debris. He couldn’t stand up, but his balance was good enough to kneel without tumbling off. Hopefully he scanned the shadeward horizon looking for the tell-tale glimpse of rising smoke, but there was nothing there. He squinted left and right, hoping that he might be just a little off course. Still nothing. If the smoke was out there, he couldn’t see it.
The creature had flown a different course, heading shaderight, a square turn away to the left from the course the Bethany had been following.
Meru tried to recall what the sailors had told him about other lands beyond their home. Nobody sailed far out of sight of Amar, certainly never going beyond the smoke. He’d heard rumours of islands to the far sunwa
rd. Could he have drifted that far? To most folks the Straithian Sea was endless, beyond were only stories, stories of witches and vaguely formed half-told tales of fear and doom.
Meru sighed. It wasn’t much use to him. The sea was dangerous enough without adding any more woes.
He thought about it for a moment. He had a simple choice. He could keep heading shadeward, hoping that he was close enough to the Bethany’s original course that he’d eventually come across Amar and be able to head home, or he could strike out shaderight hoping to discover the home of the flying creature.
Without food and water he had just a few stretches to reach land, otherwise …
Just thinking about water made him thirsty. Panic rose again and he clamped down on it, grabbing the debris with renewed determination, breathing deeply. He had to do something.
But which?
Amar, or at least the rising smoke, should have still been visible if he wasn’t too far off course. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t see it. Had the maelstrom taken them further away than he thought? Was his time reckoning wrong? If that was so, he could be paddling further into the sea by following that course.
Did the flying creature live nearby? If it was able to cruise across endless stretches of sea it might have come from a distance he’d have no chance of covering himself before …
Fear seized him again. He shivered despite the warmth, almost giving in to a sob that rose up from somewhere within him. Thoughts of his mother and father entered his mind, despite the bitterness.
They don’t even know I’m out here.
His expression hardened and determination swept over him. He was still alive, still had choices. He chastised himself.
Think! Think hard!
The flying creature, it wasn’t a glider. It had short stubby wings. It had flapped away. That took energy. Energy meant a need for food. It must have found him whilst out foraging. If it hadn’t glided that meant it had come from a reasonably short range. It had to have an eyrie close by. Whether that eyrie was anything more than a barren rock sticking up from the sea …