by Ben Hale
The sea darkened as the ship continued to sink, and his lungs burst with the need to breath. Heat burned on his neck and he reached for Marrow, praying she could undo what she had done. But the girl was at the rudder, turning it like it mattered on a sinking ship. Unable to stop it, he opened his mouth to issue a silent scream . . .
“MARROW!”
Shocked by the sound, he instinctively drew in a breath, and his lungs filled with air. Astonished, he continued to breath before realizing his mouth was still shut. Then he raised his hand to his throat and felt the flaps of skin.
“Gills?” Red demanded, her voice impossibly audible despite the water.
“How else would you breathe underwater?” Marrow asked, clearly annoyed at the stupid question.
The others had gotten the message and begun to breath, but the panic did not abate so easily. There was a chorus of shouts at Marrow, all punctuated by rage. Then Winter’s voice broke through.
“We could have cast charms!” she cried. “You didn’t have to turn us into fish!”
“Oh.”
Raiden burst into laughter at Marrow’s apologetic expression. Then he noticed the Red Hand. He’d held his breath like the rest of them but his neck was not cut, and his eyes bulged as he fought the chains binding him to the rail.
“Marrow,” he said. “You need to give him gills.”
“She doesn’t remember how,” Marrow sniffed. “And we don’t like him.”
“Marrow!” he said. “We might need him. Winter?”
She shook her head, her hair swirling about her head. “Not fast enough. It takes time to cast the breathing charm.”
“Marrow!” Red said. “Are you going to let him die?”
Marrow shrugged. “He has more murders than anyone I’ve met.”
“Marrow!” Several shouted.
She blew out her breath, causing bubbles to escape her mouth. She stabbed a finger at the bandit leader and he abruptly clutched his throat, releasing his held breath in a silent scream. He writhed against the railing until the gills allowed him to breath, and then sucked in a desperate breath.
“ARE YOU MAD!!” he bellowed.
“Yes,” she said calmly.
“Quiet!” Jester said.
“I WILL NOT—”
“Quiet!” Jester hissed. “We found it.”
Raiden followed his gaze to the base of the sea, and his eyes widened in astonishment. Complete with turrets and a keep, the fortress on the sea floor was built of aquaglass. Fish swam about the walls and battlements, and a group of sharks hunted between the spires.
All fell silent and stared at the wondrous fortress hidden in the depths of the sea. The impossibility of their descent coupled with the sight elicited a profound silence. The ship creaked as Marrow steered the rudder, and giggled.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “Can I have one?”
“By Skorn,” Winter breathed. “He built his own castle.”
Raiden couldn’t tear his eyes from the keep. “It’s a refuge for the curse.”
Chapter 33: Master Chasin
Steering the ship like it was on the sea, Marrow guided the vessel down to the seabed. In a grinding of sand and wood, the hull scraped across the bottom. Then she leapt over the rail and drifted to the bottom.
“Marrow,” Raiden said wearily. When she turned back, he pointed to his feet, which were still bound to the deck.
“Oh,” she said. “Sorry. She didn’t want you panicking and swimming away when the ship went underwater.”
“Don’t worry,” Jester said. “We didn’t panic.”
“Liar,” Red said.
Jester grinned. “Perhaps a little panic.”
“Then you’re all fools,” the Red Hand said, his voice shrill for a hardened bandit. “That madwoman will kill us all.”
“Only you,” she retorted, and then added, “Probably.”
“How long will our gills last?” Winter asked.
She laughed like it was an absurd question. “How should I know?”
As the tendrils of wood released him, Raiden pointed to the castle. “Then we should get moving.”
“What about him?” Jester asked, motioning to the bandit leader.
“Leave him where he is,” Raiden said. “We can get him when we come back.”
“And if you don’t come back?”
Red smiled. “Then the sea can be your executioner.”
The passage across the seabed was slow and disconcerting. Sand and mud slipped beneath Raiden’s feet and he tried to swim, but weighed down with his sword and clothing he merely sank back to the rocks. Several curses were heard by the others.
“This isn’t possible, you know,” Winter said in an aside to Raiden.
“Gaining gills?”
Winter nodded and glanced at Marrow, who was skipping across the seabed with all the smiles of a child dancing in puddles. Seeing her move with such ease hundreds of feet below the surface was surreal.
“We should be feeling the pressure of the depth,” she said, “And the ability to speak without air goes against everything I’ve learned.”
“It’s Marrow,” Raiden said.
“Have you ever thought about her other mind?” she asked. “Of what would happen if she turned against us?”
“I have,” Raiden said. “But she’s saved my life more times than she’s been a threat, so I’d say she’s in the positive.”
She smiled faintly. “Just remember not to trust her too much. When the time comes, it may cost you dearly.”
Raiden couldn’t bring himself to argue. A moment later they reached the gates to the fortress. Abruptly the barrier glided upward, revealing a square chamber filled with water. Raiden hesitated, but realized if the mage had wanted to kill them, he probably wouldn’t let them inside.
“It appears we’ve been invited,” he said.
Red looked like she wanted to argue but she followed them into the chamber. Winter half swam, half walked her way in. Then the door gradually shut and a gurgling of water sounded. The water in the chamber began to lower, siphoning away until they stood on the floor. When the water was gone a second door opened, allowing them into the aquaglass castle.
“Welcome!” a portly man cried, rushing to greet them. Then he squinted at the group and frowned. “Why so many?”
Marrow opened her mouth but Jester stepped in front. “Teriah sent us,” he said, covering the lie with a smile.
“Excellent,” he said, clapping his hands in delight. “I’ve never had visitors—but of course you know that.”
Raiden had palmed the hilt of his sword at the man’s appearance but recognized Jester’s ploy. The mage might provide crucial information if he thought they were Verinai, so he forced himself to relax and allow Jester to take the lead. As an assassin Jester had donned many personalities, and he slipped into the role of Verinai with ease. Winter aided him, stepping to his side with a disarming smile.
“I’m Master Skerl,” the man said. “It’s so good to have guests. It’s been an eternity since Elsin permitted another to visit—and you must stay for a noonday meal. My harvesters have quite the garden flourishing on the seabed, and the shrimp is delightful.”
Raiden cast the others a warning look. They seemed to understand his desire and smiled as if they were Verinai. Jester even spoke of their departure from Mistkeep with fondness, causing Red to hide a smile. Only Marrow remained at the back, her expression laced with distrust.
“And the Empire?” Skerl asked. “Have we crushed the rebellion?”
“The war continues,” Winter said evasively.
“Alydian is much like her mother,” he replied with a nod. “And her rebellious spirit knows no bounds.”
It was fortunate he was turning away, because he didn’t see Marrow lunging for his throat. Red caught her about the waist and pulled her back, murmuring into her ear in urgent tones. She scowled but stilled herself.
Master Skerl led them into a stunning great hall. T
he aquaglass floors showed an enclosed pool beneath the castle, with fish darting through a vibrant section of coral. Sharks hunted beneath the floor, the large forms sleek and lethal. Marrow clapped her hands and pressed herself against the floor to watch them. A great white shark angled upward, its body several times her size.
The ceiling of the hall allowed a view toward the surface, with just a trace of light far above. Raiden guessed they were a few hundred feet down, enough to hide but not so far that the light failed to reach.
“We are grateful for your hospitality,” Winter said.
“Nonsense,” the man said, and gestured to the kitchens.
A quartet of hulking water golems entered holding trays of food. More appeared with plates and barrels of drink on their shoulders. Still more appeared and surrounded the table, kneeling to form makeshift chairs.
“My apologies for the seating,” he said. “If I’d have known of your arrival I would have cast chairs for you.”
“Your work is breathtaking,” Red said, gesturing to the castle.
“Elsin intended a house,” he said, his voice filled with pride, “but I wanted more. How could I live in squalor beneath the sea?”
“Your plague is also a work of art,” Winter said.
His eyes lit up with delight. “Mages have speculated about the full extent of magic since the Dawn of Magic, and I was fortunate to discover one of its mysteries.”
“Tell us,” Red said with a smile.
They still hadn’t sat but Master Skerl seemed to have forgotten his intention. “I realized I had the magic of loyalty when I was young,” he said, “I could make others believe my words even if they didn’t want to. I kept the talent a secret, and only after I gained my mastership did Elsin discover what I could do.”
“And she saw its potential?” Jester asked.
“She asked if I could combine my talent with a disease,” he replied. “And we worked with her healing magic to create the plague.”
“How does it spread?”
“That’s the ingenious part,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “When Elsin gave the order her forces added it to the water supply.”
“So, if the rebellion stops drinking the water,” Raiden said, “they will no longer suffer the effects?”
Master Skerl blinked and frowned. “Why ask such questions? If Elsin sent you, surely you know her plan.”
Winter flashed a disarming smile. “We merely wished to hear the tale from the true master.”
“Give credit where it’s due,” Lorth added with a nod.
“Ah,” he said, and smiled. But the expression did not touch his eyes. “Tell me, why have you come?”
“To ensure you were protected,” Raiden said. “We have reason to believe that the rebellion has learned of your location.”
Master Skerl’s eyes narrowed and he took a step back. Although he had made no other motion, the golems in the chamber stood and rotated, becoming walls of aquaflesh with blades suddenly in hand.
“Do I look like I need protecting?” he asked, his round face suddenly filled with malice.
“Master Skerl,” Jester said lightly. “Why the hostility? We were sent by Guildmaster Elsin.”
“No,” Skerl said. “You weren’t. She swore to never send Verinai unless the battle had been won. She feared my discovery more than my death.”
“Master Skerl,” Winter said, raising her hands to placate him. “The solitude has made you paranoid.”
“I’m not a fool,” he spat. “And it’s my turn for the questions. Who are you?”
“The ones come to kill you,” Red said.
She drew her sword and took a step forward, but the man leveled a look at her and spoke in a ringing tone, his voice filling the chamber in a sinister melody. All twitched as the words settled on them.
“Is your cause so certain that you would raise your blade to another?” Skerl demanded, “Have you no shame?”
Red came to a halt, her features twisted with uncertainty. Raiden wanted to move to her side but found a wellspring of doubt rising in his chest, binding his feet like shackles of steel. He wanted to resist but the doubt commanded attention.
“Who are you?” Skerl demanded again.
Raiden couldn’t understand why but he wanted to answer. The man was a Verinai and the source of the plague. But was Raiden’s cause just? Was he the killer they believed him to be? He imagined all those he’d killed, all the faces of the Verinai. The images were dredged up of their own accord, making him doubt his convictions. Anger and loss filled him and he noticed Jester, the man who’d stood by him—killed with him. He’d convinced Raiden their cause was just.
“Winter betrayed the guild!” one of the Verinai cried.
Raiden swiveled, surprised by the outburst. The woman who’d spoken stared at Winter as if shocked by her own admission. Winter’s expression clouded with anger and she stabbed a finger at Raiden.
“The Soldier started this war,” she said. “It is he that deserves your condemnation.”
Raiden reached for the hilt of his blade but the motion brought a burst of clarity. Whenever he drew his blade it was with the intention to fight, and he instinctively identified friend and foe. All at once the insidious surge of doubt faded.
“Enough!” he shouted. “His magic cannot sway you if you are certain. Hold to your conviction and he is powerless!”
Jester and Red, both with swords drawn, blinked and looked to him, responding to the authority in his voice. The doubt disappeared from their eyes and they leapt to his side. Winter shook her head as if attempting to clear it, and Raiden lowered his tone.
“Do not forget Toron.”
She growled and turned on Skerl with a vengeance. “You would make me doubt what is right?” She took a step toward him but the golems closed ranks.
“I admit my magic cannot sway one with conviction,” he said. “But you have told me what I needed to know. Kill them, but leave one alive. I want answers.”
Winter barked an order, and her Verinai responded. Their hesitation evaporated and they fell into step with her. The golems glided forward, their arms turning into large hammers and swords . . .
“Your castle is beautiful,” Marrow exclaimed rising to her feet. “And she loves the sharks . . .” She caught sight of the impending battle and frowned. “What did I miss?”
“He attempted to subvert our loyalty and we resisted,” Red said.
The golems had come to a halt, reflecting Skerl’s confusion. Marrow’s features clouded with anger and she turned on him, their eyes connecting through the line of golems. He flinched as if he’d been struck.
“Kill her first!” he cried.
“You think you can stop her?” Marrow asked.
“I have an army,” Skerl sneered, all trace of his former innocence gone. “They’ll crush you.”
“She has her own army,” she replied.
“Your pitiful friends?” Skerl asked with a laugh, gesturing to Raiden and Winter. “They will be butchered like cattle.”
He stabbed a finger to the doors, and more golems appeared. Ten became twenty, and then thirty, and still they flooded into the room. Raiden swallowed as he realized they would be fighting an entire company of sentient guardians. All formed hammers and swords, their hulking forms filling the chamber until Raiden could not see the walls.
“Friends are friends,” Marrow scoffed. “An army is an army.”
She stooped and flicked her finger on the floor—and it began to melt. The charm binding the aquaglass disintegrated, dropping golem and rebellion into the frigid sea. Raiden managed to keep a grip on his sword as he plunged into the water, his eyes snapping to Marrow. To his shock she remained standing, her feet on the backs of two great white sharks.
“This is my army,” she said, her face bright with anticipation. “My army of sharks.”
Chapter 34: Marrow’s Army
Raiden had fought in thousands of duels and conflicts, and considered himself
inured to the strangeness of combat. Even with Marrow he thought he’d seen the full extent of what she could do, and doubted she would ever surprise him again.
He was wrong.
He kept himself afloat, resisting the insane urge to laugh as sharks ripped into the golems with shocking savagery. Water exploded as jaws latched onto the golems and tore them apart. The entities had been crafted for combat but were not built to fight underwater. They splashed about, barely grazing the sharks before their arms and legs were ripped from their bodies, the enchantments bursting into water.
Standing atop her two shark servants, only Marrow remained dry. She rode the two sharks about, giggling and barking orders at her voracious army. For several seconds the Verinai and Raiden’s friends simply floated, stunned at the maelstrom of water and shark.
A great white passed between Raiden and Jester, its huge body sparking fear in Raiden’s gut. But the beast lunged for a golem and clamped its jaws on its arm and head, dragging it under to tear it in half. A geyser of water signaled the kill, splashing them both.
“She truly frightens me,” Jester said, wiping water from his face with an uneasy laugh.
“She has an army of sharks,” Red said.
“She still needs help,” Winter called.
She cast a shard of water into glass and hurled it at a golem reaching for Marrow’s leg. The girl was busy laughing and didn’t see the danger, but Winter’s spear pierced the golem and knocked it aside.
“Winter,” Raiden said, “you’re with me. The rest of you, finish the fight and then get out of the water. The sharks may be her friends now, but that can change at a moment’s notice.”
“Aye,” Jester said.
The assassin pulled his whip free and flicked it toward the ceiling, snagging a chandelier. Then he levered himself out of the water and pulled himself upward. When he reached the chandelier he pulled his crossbow free and took aim at a golem.
The sharks were wreaking havoc on the golems, but there were a hundred golems and just a handful of the sharks. Master Skerl had recovered from his shock and was marshaling his troops, sending some to scale the walls and morph their hammer hands into spears, allowing them to stab the beasts.
