by Drew Wagar
‘No please, I must, he’s out there …’ Hannah dissolved into sobs. Zoella pulled her close.
Meru.
Guilt hit her like a hammer blow. The last words she had spoken to Meru echoed in her mind.
I never want to see you again!
Tears sprang into her eyes. Their friendship broken, all left unresolved, anger in their parting words. She’d never get a chance to put it right now. Mel had been right.
She clutched Ren and Hannah close, all three weeping in their close embrace.
The screams were loud in the confined space of the Mobilis. Meru winced and jolted as another man yelled close by. He’d stumbled against the outer bulkhead of the ship.
‘Get away from the hull,’ Meru shouted over the din.
‘Snuts, it’s red hot,’ Fitch said from alongside. ‘Got to stay to the middle of the ship.’
Another porthole cracked.
Fitch looked at Meru. ‘Don’t know how long we can take this, if one of those portholes goes …’
Meru nodded. ‘We’ve got to get everyone further into the ship, down in the forward hold will be safest, then lock all the doors between us and the deck.’
‘Aye,’ Fitch agreed. ‘Daf, Creg, get the hold open. We’ll get these people moving.’
The two big men pulled up the hatchway near the bow that led down into the hold of the ship. A ladder led down from the hatch into the darkness below.
‘I’ll bring a light,’ Fitch shouted to Meru.
Meru watched as Fitch grabbed one of the glowing orbs from a rack on the bulkhead and clambered down into the hold with it.
‘Should be enough room,’ he yelled back up. Fitch secured the light to one of the cross beams and braced the bottom of the ladder. ‘Send people down.’
Meru signalled for the people around him to move forward. One after another they clambered down the ladder into the gloom below.
‘Hurry!’ Meru said, dragging each one forward. Some were hesitant about descending into the darkness.
There was still nothing to see beyond the portholes, just a swirling gloom outside. To his right another porthole cracked with a sharp tinkling sound. Meru could see the cracks growing in it. The heat was stifling, he felt sweat running down his face, back and chest.
At last the crowd of folks above had worked their way down. Daf and Creg motioned for Meru to descend. He swung himself on to the ladder.
As he did so a ghastly hissing noise sounded above him and the room above the hold filled with vapour. He heard a yell, he couldn’t tell if it was Daf or Creg.
He slid down the ladder using only his hands.
‘Daf, Creg!’
Both men were through the hatch above, steam was billowing around the hatch way as they wrestled it closed. A roar of anger and pain echoed throughout the hold as they struggled against the intense heat.
Then, with an echoing clang, the hatch locked into place.
The steam stopped and the only sound that could be heard was the gasping breaths of those around him.
‘I think we got everyone,’ Meru said, wiping the sweat from his eyes. ‘Wow, it’s so hot down here.’
‘Safe for now,’ Fitch said. ‘How long will this flare last?’
‘It was over in a spell or two last time,’ Meru said. ‘I don’t think the heat will last that long.’
‘Going to be touch and go then,’ Fitch whispered.
‘Why?’ Meru asked. ‘We can just wait it out.’
Fitch shook his head. ‘This hold is watertight, reckon it’s airtight too.’
Meru looked about him in the gloom. The lamps cast a faint illumination about him. All he could see were scared faces receding into the darkness. He looked back at Fitch. ‘You mean …’
Fitch nodded. ‘If it doesn’t pass before we run out of air, we’re all going to suffocate down here.’
Zoella, Hannah and Ren were still huddled close within the ground floor of the administrative building. The air was filled with smoke, people were coughing and spluttering all around them. The urge to get outside was almost overpowering. Coran had to knock down two folks who’d tried to get to the doors.
They could hear fires raging outside and see the flicker of the flames around the door jambs.
If those fires catch, we may be roasted alive inside here anyway.
Ren was whimpering in her arms. She pulled his head towards her and planted a kiss on top of it.
‘It will be all right, you’ll see,’ she said. ‘The flare won’t last long, I promise.’
This is how he lost his family in the previous flare … poor child!
Ren coughed, the fumes about them were becoming intolerable. Zoella could feel the acrid smoke burning into her lungs.
We can’t last much longer like this …
She could see some people around her had already succumbed, fainting and collapsing on the floor.
‘Can’t … breathe …’ Ren’s voice was a whisper. He choked, struggling in her grasp.
‘Just a little longer,’ she managed to croak.
Conditions aboard the Mobilis were no better.
Meru gasped, struggling to breathe, the heat was suffocating. Sweat dripped from him. He watched as the droplets hit the floor of the hold and then evaporated. The air was thick and humid, stinking from the odours of so many in close confinement.
One by one folks were fainting, collapsing where they stood, no one was able to help, none had the energy or strength.
‘Air’s going bad,’ Fitch managed. ‘Less than a spell I reckon.’
‘We’ve got to open the hatch,’ Meru whispered back.
‘And let that steam in?’ Fitch replied.
‘Maybe it’s gone.’
‘Maybe it hasn’t,’ Fitch said. ‘Climb the ladder and feel the hatch then, see if it’s cooled.’
Meru nodded. He looked up at the ladder, it should be an easy climb, but with a woozy head …
Nothing for it but to try.
He grasped the rungs and pulled himself up. His limbs felt weak and shivery, he had to concentrate on putting one foot and then one hand up a rung at a time and then heaving himself upwards. His body felt lethargic and heavy.
It seemed to take him an age to reach the heavy hatchway above him. It was even hotter up here, the air seemed so thick and humid it was almost like water. He swayed on the ladder for a moment, almost overcome.
‘Well?’ Fitch called up.
Meru reached out his hand to grasp the wheel that would unlock the hatch. He reached out to grasp it …
He yelled, and almost fell off, struggling for a grip on the ladder, his feet slipping.
‘It’s still burning hot!’ he said in dismay.
Zoella’s eyes were closed, the fumes were intolerable now, every breath was an effort, each gasp a painful wheeze of poison.
Maybe this is how it ends. The flares are going to kill us all … What of the Obelisk? We’re too late, this is it … suffocating the darkness …
Redness flooded her eyes even behind her eyelids. A blast of cool air washed over her.
She opened her eyes. For a moment she could see nothing but a bright flow as water streamed from them. She blinked, trying to focus.
She could see a figure in the doorway, the door opening, wider and wider. There was brightness beyond, not the ruddy glow of flames, but the orange of Lacaille’s natural light.
It’s over!
‘Ren … Hannah … Look.’
In her embrace the others stirred, coughing and spluttering but then looking towards the light.
Coran and Mel were standing in the doorway, pushing open the doors. The air was fresh, invigorating, cooler. Zoella struggled up and pulled the others to their feet with her. Coran was gesturing to her and she staggered forward.
For long moments she stood there gasping, staring out of the doorway.
‘Oh no …’
Fires were still burning around down the street before them. Bodies were strewn about, some of
them on fire too, smoke billowing from them and casting a pall over the city. Above, the darkness across the face of Lacaille was retreating, the light about them growing brighter by the moment.
Zoella raised her gaze past the carnage. Through the drifting smoke she could see people emerging from the buildings, staggering out into the streets as they realised the worst had passed.
Beyond the streets Zoella could see the harbour. Several of the boats were aflame, settling into the water. She could see bodies strewn all over the quays. Her heart leapt in her throat.
The Mobilis was still there though, its bow swung out into the bay, but still tethered at the stern. She could see no sign of anyone alive.
‘Coran … our friends …’ she cried.
Coran looked at where she was pointing, taking in the view in a single glance.
‘Get the fires out,’ Coran yelled to Mel. ‘Before they do any more damage. Folks will be hurt, find them, get them out in the open.’
‘I want to help find our friends,’ Mel protested.
‘Need you here,’ Coran replied. ‘Ren, you stay here with Mel.’
‘I want to …’ Ren protested.
‘Stay there, Ren,’ Zoella said. ‘Coran’s right.’
‘I’m coming too.’
Zoella turned to see Hannah behind her, wearing a determined expression. Zoella saw Coran about to protest.
‘He’s my son,’ Hannah insisted.
‘Meru’s mother,’ Zoella added by way of explanation.
‘All right then, let’s go.’ He grasped hold of Mel’s arm. ‘We’ll find them. We’ll … do what we can.’
Mel swallowed and nodded without saying a word, but pulled him into a hug.
‘Be careful.’
They released each other. Zoella felt another pang of guilt as she watched them.
I shouldn’t have said what I said …
Coran pulled Zoella behind him.
‘Quick now. Let’s hope they found some way to stay out of danger.’
Coran led the way down to the harbour and the three of them picked their way through the scorched bodies of the dead. As they approach the walls of the city, the crush of bodies grew worse. Some had panicked and been crushed as the crowd had tried to escape.
They had to scramble up staircases and lower themselves over the wall, the main gate was blocked with bodies. Zoella could see that the bodies were no longer burnt now, but the upturned faces were blistered.
As if they’d been boiled alive …
She couldn’t help herself, she was looking for a familiar face, horrified and saddened as she looked, but grateful when she didn’t recognise any of them.
They reached the quayside. ‘Meru!’
‘Fitch!’
‘Daf, Creg!’
There was no answer, but no sign of their friends either. The Mobilis was close by now, drifting in the harbour. Zoella could see that the rope securing the bow had caught fire and burnt away, with the ship secured only at the stern. The outside deck was strewn with more bodies and more were floating face down in the water.
Coran ran to the stern mooring and hauled on the rope, calling for Zoella and Hannah to help him. The Mobilis slowly drifted back in. He jumped aboard.
Zoella helped Hannah on to the stern. The hull was steaming; she could feel the heat through the soles of her shoes. There were bodies everywhere, all dead, all blistered from the heat that had swept through.
‘Might be worse up ahead,’ Coran whispered. ‘You ready?’
Zoella nodded, looking around her in despair. Hannah seemed unmoved, her face set.
‘None of these are our friends,’ Coran said, looking about him. ‘Don’t give up hope just yet.’
They walked up the deck of the ship, past the metal hatches that secured the engine bays. The ship seemed to have fared well, its metal structure unaffected by the heat. They reached the deck house. Zoella could see the glass windows had been shattered. Coran vaulted up and rummaged around.
‘Nothing up here, damage is all fixable. Where did they go?’
Zoella pointed to the bow.
‘Look!’
Coran climbed down and looked to where Zoella was pointing. Bodies were crammed around a hatch on the forward deck, just above the entrance to the galley.
‘Looks like someone got inside in time,’ he said, looking at Zoella. She nodded and they ran forward.
Coran didn’t hesitate in pulling the bodies away from the hatch. Zoella watched, sickened, as they slipped into the sea and bobbed away, but there was nothing she could do for them now.
Coran gripped on the hatch wheel and turned it, spinning it up and then heaving on it. The hatchway opened. They both peered within.
The interior was dark and gloomy, the normal illumination was either switched off or broken. They could see no one inside.
Coran jumped down and helped Hannah clamber down the ladder from the deck, Zoella slid down a moment later. They walked forward and aft, looking in the galley, the crew quarters and the common areas. The ship was deserted.
‘There’s no one here,’ Zoella said, her face a mask of despair and her voice cracking into a sob. ‘They must have been caught in the crush, they’re all dead somewhere in the harbour …’
But Coran was shaking his head.
‘The hatch was sealed from the inside,’ Coran said. ‘It must have been, nobody would have had time to close it from outside. I just don’t understand where … The hold!’
‘What?’ Zoella and Hannah said in unison.
‘To the bow.’
Coran leapt past her and ran to the forward compartment of the Mobilis. Zoella had never been here before. She ran up behind him, seeing him wrestle with another hatch set in the floor. Around her she could see all the portholes were cracked.
‘Crew entrance to the hold,’ Coran said, turning the wheel. ‘Never normally use it, as we unload from the stern …’
Coran yanked up the hatch and pushed it aside, peering down into the darkness.
‘Meru? Fitch? You down there? Daf, Creg?’
There was no answer from the darkness below. Coran swung himself on to the ladder and slid down, Zoella followed his movements, leaving Hannah above. Within a moment both stood on the planks that covered the keel of the ship.
Bodies!
All around them were prone forms. The air was hot, humid and stale, rank and foul smelling.
Coran picked up something from the floor. Zoella recognised it.
‘Fitch’s hat!’
Fitch was lying just beyond, Coran shifted over, pulling Fitch’s body towards him.
‘Fitch, Fitch!’
The man groaned and his eyes flickered open, taking in the sight of Coran looking at him.
‘Ah, you’ve found my hat, wondered where I’d dropped it.’
‘Where’s Meru, where’s …?’
‘He’s here,’ Zoella screeched, scrambling over two other bodies in her haste. Both grunted and began to move.
Meru was lying face up, his hands at his throat, Zoella could see burns and scald on his fingers.
‘Meru? Meru!’
She pulled at him, managing to yank his body up and cradling him in her arms. ‘Wake up. Please, wake up.’
She smoothed his dirty hair out of his face. His skin felt cold and clammy.
‘Meru? Don’t be dead, don’t be … Coran.’
Coran came up behind her. Zoella looked up.
‘I think … I think he’s gone …’ she said, between sobs.
‘No … no I’m not.’
She felt him convulse in her arms and then his eyes opened. Meru looked confused for a moment, before his gaze fastened on Zoella.
‘Zoe–’ he reached out towards her.
She pulled him into an embrace, scrunching her eyes shut as she hugged him close.
I’m sorry!
Around her, more and more people were moving. It seemed a good number had been saved. She opened her eyes to see Daf and Creg befor
e her, helping Fitch to his feet alongside Coran.
She craned her neck around and looked up to the hatchway, calling to Hannah.
‘He’s alive. He’s going to be all right.’
The spots on Lacaille’s surface were receding once more, life began to return to normal in Amaris. Many had lost their lives, some still caught in the open when the flare burst upon the island, others broiled alive in the hissing steam that had rolled across the harbour. Some had been trampled underfoot in the panic-stricken rush to get indoors in the last few moments.
It took several stretches of hard work to bury the bodies of the dead. The death toll just in the city was in the hundreds, and it became clear that hundreds more had been killed further inland.
The city itself had fared better, its stone work unaffected by the heat. Here and there fires had broken out. All the crops still left in the fields had been destroyed.
‘We survived,’ Janaid observed, looking out across the city.
‘Most of us,’ Coran replied, with a heavy sigh.
‘Without your warning the death toll would have been far worse,’ Janaid said. ‘We have enough provisions to survive until we can tend to the fields. We, the senate and the people of Amar, owe you and your crew a huge debt of thanks.’
‘We’re not out of the shades yet,’ Fitch said from alongside them. ‘Worse is coming.’
‘Worse?’ Janaid gulped.
‘He means the priestesses of Drayden,’ Coran said. ‘Trouble you haven’t seen yet.’
With the immediate priorities of the injured, damage and fire dealt with, the senate organised a council of war. The crew of the Mobilis were now listened to, the senators hanging on every word.
‘They will come in ships,’ Fitch said, addressing the senators. ‘It’s the only way to cross the sea between their lands and ours. Thus the attack will first come from the sea.’
‘And in what type of vessels?’ Henoch demanded.
‘We saw only vessels of traditional build whilst we were on the continent,’ Fitch answered. ‘Timber built, much like our own ships here, though designed for warfare.’
‘Then your vessel will have the mastery of the seas,’ Henoch said.
