And Night Descends (The Third Book of the Small Gods Series)

by Blake, Bruce

  Teryk stared at his companion, barely noticing the wind rising, cooling and drying the sweat on his face. They stayed that way until a footstep drew their attention. A man with a scar on his cheek and his beard trimmed to a point glared at them, hands on his hips. Teryk had seen the man before but hadn’t spoken to him in his brief time on the Whalebone. He’d learned he was appropriately named for the path his life had taken: Seaman. Rilum Seaman.

  “Get to work, ya lazy layabouts. Deck needs t’be swabbed afore the storm hits.” He tilted his head back and to the left; Teryk’s gaze followed.

  The wind had risen further, pushing the clouds from the horizon closer. A gray haze blurred the space between sky and sea; Teryk recognized it as sheets of rain. Beside him, Ash dunked his mop.

  “Yes, father. It’ll be done.”

  Rilum grunted, glared at Teryk, then spun on his boot heel and left them to their work as he likely headed off to harass another crew member into doing their job faster.

  The prince resumed mopping, eyes still on the dark gray billows of cloud as they closed the distance toward the ship. Overhead, the sails billowed and snapped in the rising wind and men clambered up rope ladders and masts to do whatever they needed to do to contain and protect them.

  “I didn’t realize Rilum’s your father,” Teryk commented, turning his attention back to the job at hand.

  “He doesn’t like it when I call him that.”

  “He’s sort of—”

  “Grumpy?”

  Teryk smiled but Ash wasn’t looking at him to see it.

  “Not the word I was thinking of, but yes: grumpy.”

  “He has good reason to be.” Ash’s sailor speak had vanished.

  “Why is that?”

  “My grandfather was part of the crew of the Devil.”

  The first drop of rain spattered on Teryk’s forehead and he raised his eyes skyward. The sun and the blue of the firmament were gone, hidden behind angry, boiling clouds. Teryk stared, surprised at how quickly the storm overtook them.

  ***

  The storm fell upon the Whalebone like a hungry beast upon its prey. Wind whipped the sails as men worked frantically to tame them and stow them. Anything not lashed down shifted and moved as the growing waves tossed the ship around; Teryk’s mop bucket had slid across the deck until it hit a coil of rope, tipped over and rolled away. Rain pelted his face hard enough to sting.

  “Get ye below,” Rilum Seaman yelled as he hurried by, his beard dripping rain from its tip. “Lash the cargo afore we lose it all.”

  Ash snagged Teryk’s sleeve and pulled him toward the hatch. The ship’s motion sent them both reeling, but Ash’s sea legs kept him upright and his grip helped the prince remain the same. They weaved their way across the deck, wind howling through ropes, sails snapping, wood creaking. A huge wave crashed against the side of the ship, sending spray over the wale and splashing on the deck.

  “Hurry,” Ash shouted, throwing the hatch open.

  Teryk did, blinking away the water streaming out of his hair and into his eyes as he scrambled down the ladder. Ash came close after him, pulling the hatch shut behind him, throwing them into darkness. The prince wiped rain from his face, relieved to be out of the weather, but keeping his footing here proved no easier than above, so he gripped the nearest rung for balance. In the dark, he heard Ash take a lantern from where it hung on the wall and light it. Flickering light sprang to life, casting writhing shadows across the sailors’ bunks.

  “Come on.”

  Ash dragged Teryk from his safe haven, through the crew’s quarters, and to the ladder leading to the main hold. The narrow confines of the crew deck lent their passage more stability, but the violent ocean still threw the ship about. Teryk banged his leg against one bunk or another more than once.

  The cabin boy handed the lantern to the prince and descended the next ladder first. Teryk waited until he completed his descent before passing the lamp down, then followed, moving deliberately, careful of his grip. At the bottom, he found Ash staring at the dim hold, a grim look on his face. Teryk followed his gaze.

  The hold was a shambles. Crates had toppled, one striking a barrel and splitting it open to spill the pickles within onto the floor. The items already lashed down strained against their bindings as the boat pitched with the will of the waves. The prince wondered how they’d restrain the cargo without it crushing them.

  “Get a rope,” Ash demanded.

  One hung on the wall by the ladder, so Teryk took a step toward it, reaching to retrieve it when he stopped, foot splashing in water. He lowered his eyes and saw enough to come to the top of the sole of his boot. A shiver crawled up his spine, only partially brought on by the wet clothes clinging to his skin.

  “Ash.”

  The water moved with the pitch of the ship, making it impossible to tell where it came from. It might be the brine spilled along with the pickles they preserved, but it seemed far too much liquid to be the case.

  “Get the rope, Taylor. Hurry.”

  “Look at this, Ash.” He grasped the cabin boy’s sleeve, wet cloth squelching between his fingers, and pulled him closer. The lantern’s light glistened on the wet deck. Ash stared, eyes widening.

  “We’re taking on water.”

  “What do we do? Should we get someone?”

  “No time. We have to find it and stop it.”

  Teryk nodded, a fearful lump in his throat. If he’d told the truth when they found him, he wouldn’t be here now. He’d likely be in the practice yard, sparring with Trenan—if his father and mother hadn’t locked him in his chamber for leaving Draekfarren.

  The cabin boy moved away from the ladder and Teryk followed, taking advantage of the light cast by the lantern. His eyes scanned back and forth across the deck until Ash struck him in the arm to get his attention.

  “Not the floor. There’s another deck below. It’d have to be filled for water to come through the floorboards. Check the sides.”

  Teryk nodded, embarrassed by his mistake, but the effort of keeping his feet as the ship churned beneath them relieved him of the discomfort. They moved through the hold, wary of shifting crates and of pickles under foot. The noise of the storm was less here than on the crew deck, making communication easier.

  “Anything?” Ash asked.

  “No.”

  The cabin boy slid a crate aside and checked behind it while Teryk continued on. A few paces ahead, the lantern’s light found the hatch leading to the lowest deck: closed and bolted, the fastener rattling with the ship’s movement. Teryk moved closer, squinting to see in the dim illumination.

  Water ran from the narrow space between hatch and floor.

  The prince gulped hard, his saliva tangy and acidic. A wave sent him reeling into a crate, striking his knee against the wood and sending a bolt of pain along his leg. He grabbed the edge of the box to steady himself, raised his gaze to make sure he’d seen what he thought he’d seen.

  The volume of water seeping through the hatch had increased.

  “Ash.”

  The cabin boy didn’t respond, so Teryk shouted.

  “Ash!”

  The light cast upon the door brightened as Ash moved closer. He held the lantern out with one hand while using the other to support himself on crates and barrels. Teryk looked back at him and, for an instant, the way the storm threw the boy around and swung the lantern in his grasp brought nausea to the prince’s gut. The change in Ash’s expression made him forget it.

  “No,” the cabin boy whispered. “It can’t be.”

  Teryk looked from Ash to the hatch then back. In that instant, he recognized panic in the cabin boy’s face and saw him as the boy he truly was, not the sailor he’d viewed him as. The prince realized he’d have to jump to action or they’d continue staring at the water leaking through the hatch until it filled the hold and drowned them.

  He stumbled across the deck and grabbed Ash’s arm, pulling him back toward the ladder. As they did, the ship lurched a
nd they lost their footing. Teryk fell against a crate, jarring his shoulder, and Ash went down behind him. The lantern slipped from his grasp, crashing against the floor and shattering the glass. The flame extinguished, throwing them into darkness.

  The panic Teryk had seen on Ash’s face gripped him now, tightening his limbs to blocks of wood. He knew he should find his feet, fumble his way to the ladder and back up to higher decks. Someone needed to be told, something needed to be done, but he couldn’t move.

  Boom.

  Crates and barrels rattled in the dark and the deck shuddered beneath them.

  “What was that?” Teryk’s voice quaked, but he didn’t care.

  “I don’t know.”

  Ash was closer than he’d expected, so it startled him when the cabin boy’s hand grasped his ankle. Water splashed as he pulled himself closer and the two of them used each other to find their way to their feet.

  Boom.

  The sound again, and the rattles and shudder, but this time accompanied by the rending of wood and the splash and rush of water.

  “We’ve struck something. We have to warn everyone.”

  Teryk felt Ash move away, leaving him alone in the dark as the ship pitched and the sea rushed in. Panic gripped his heart and, for a moment, he didn’t move. Couldn’t move. The cabin boy’s hand reached out in the darkness and grasped the front of the prince’s shirt, forcing him into action.

  Ash was up the ladder and onto the crew deck, Teryk halfway up behind him when the ship was struck a third time.

  Boom. Crack.

  The sound hurried Teryk’s pace. He dragged himself the rest of the way up the rungs and crawled along the crew deck, using the ends of the bunks to guide him, the low center of gravity to keep him from being thrown about. The noise of the storm increased, blocking the sounds of Ash finding his way ahead of him.

  They reached the ladder and Ash scurried up, Teryk right at the cabin boy’s heels, waiting as he pulled the rope to release the hatch’s clasp. Ash pushed the portal open and a wave of sea water rushed down upon them.

  Teryk grasped the rungs tight and turned his head, barely keeping the salty sea out of his mouth and nose. Above, the force of the wave loosened Ash’s grip on the rungs. The cabin boy’s weight landed on Teryk’s head and shoulders, but he maintained his hold and his presence kept Ash from falling all the way back to the deck below. The prince grunted with effort as the cabin boy struggled to regain his grip; when he did, the weight upon him first eased, then disappeared.

  Ash scrambled up and out through the hatch. Teryk paused to catch his breath, then followed. His head emerged through the opening and salty spray slapped his face, the roar of the wind in the masts and ropes and the crash of waves against the hull assaulted his ears. Lightning flashed and thunder added its throaty growl to the cacophony.

  Teryk gaped. He’d never in his life seen a storm like this.

  Ash’s hand fell on his shoulder, his fingers gripping the prince’s shirt, urging him up and out. The cabin boy’s urgency snapped Teryk back to reality and he hauled himself out through the opening.

  “Shut the hatch,” Ash shouted, wind whipping his hair into his face. “Enough water down there already.”

  Teryk complied, then followed the cabin boy. The ship bucked and pitched under his feet and it was all he could do to keep from falling. Ash took off toward the upper deck, presumably in search of his father, his practiced sea legs giving him little advantage over Teryk in the heaving sea.

  One step passed beneath the prince’s feet before the ship’s gyrations got the better of him and he toppled over, landing hard on the wet deck. He spread his arms and legs, sprawling and keeping himself from rolling or sliding across the ship. Panting, he remained for a few seconds, gathering his energy and his courage, though he had trouble finding either. Another wave washed over him as he lay there and he spat salt water from his mouth before drawing himself up to his hands and knees.

  Teryk saw that Ash had made it halfway to the stairs leading to the upper deck, his progress hindered by the sea throwing him back and forth in a cockeyed path to his goal. He admired the way the cabin boy kept his feet under him in such awful conditions. It gave him courage and hope they might survive.

  Hard rain pelted Teryk’s cheeks as he clambered to his feet. Another wave hit and he wondered if that was what they’d heard on the lower deck. He bent at the waist, one hand on the edge of the hatch to keep from falling over, and looked up to the side of the ship.

  The wave approaching them was taller than a building, perhaps as high as the Pillars of Life before they’d fallen. Teryk stared, salt water stinging his eyes, then jerked his gaze away to see if his friend made it to the stairway. He hadn’t.

  “Ash!” Teryk screamed, but the wind stole his voice and threw it out to the raging sea.

  He let go of the hatch and lurched across the deck after the cabin boy, stealing a glance at the approaching wave. Its height dwarfed the ship.

  The shouts of crew men swirled with the howl of the wind, but Teryk didn’t know who cried out or what they said. He focused on the cabin boy ahead of him. It didn’t seem Ash had noticed the monster wave bearing down on them; he continued lurching toward the stairs.

  Teryk’s foot caught on a coil of rope washed from its proper spot and unspooled to lay across the deck like a snake waiting to snare him. He fell hard, striking his elbows and shooting pain along his arms.

  “Ash!”

  He stretched out his hand toward the cabin boy struggling ahead of him as though he might reach him, catch him by the arm and keep him safe. At the last second, Teryk saw Ash turn his head and glimpse the wave before it crashed into the ship.

  The force of it picked the cabin boy up and tossed him like a child’s doll made of rags. Panic seized Teryk for the boy’s safety, but then water filled his mouth. It plucked him from the deck, rolled him over, threw him. Salty seawater grated against his eyes, his lungs pined over the thought of never taking another breath.

  Teryk’s world was naught but water. He thrashed with his arms and legs, remembering the last time he’d been underwater—when he got pinned beneath the gate and would have drowned if not for his sister freeing him.

  Danya.

  In the time since he’d regained consciousness, he’d focused so much on his shipboard tasks and his role in the prophecy, he’d barely given her a thought. Now his heart ached that they’d parted; he’d never see her again.

  The sea spun and rolled Teryk until up and down became distant memories. Distress filled his chest, begging him to draw breath, but there was no air to be had. If he gave in, his death would be a certainty instead of the likelihood it already was.

  The tossing lasted so long, he was sure he’d gone over the side, destined to perish in the sea, when his back struck something hard. He reached out and his fingers found purchase. He grasped with one hand, brought the other to it and held on, recognizing it as his only chance for life.

  A moment later, the water disappeared. Teryk fell to the deck, coughing and hacking to empty his lungs and throat. The sea streamed from his mouth and nose and he blinked to clear his vision, found himself holding onto the railing of the stairs leading to the upper deck. The wave had washed him from one end of the ship to the other.

  “Ash?”

  He used the railing to pull himself to his feet, cast his gaze around the deck. He saw sailors righting themselves after having been thrown about like himself. Some were already on their feet and helping others or getting back to the tasks in need of their attention.

  As far as Teryk saw, the cabin boy was not amongst them.

  “Ash?”

  He relinquished his grip on the railing and stumbled across the deck toward the wale. On his way, he passed Rilum Seaman—Ash’s father. He’d struck his head and blood poured from the wound as another of the crew helped him. Teryk thought about telling him Ash had disappeared, asking him to help find the cabin boy, but his eyes appeared unfocused and bleary
; he’d be no help in his condition.

  The prince reached the side of the ship without losing his balance, gripped the edge and looked out across the heaving sea. Waves rose and fell, undulating in great swells that sometimes hid the cloud-filled sky and other times held the Whalebone up above the rest of the world. Teryk realized that, if the wave washed Ash overboard, there was little chance—

  He glimpsed something as the ship rose on a swell that stretched as high as the mainsail. An arm waved and Teryk was sure it was Ash, then they dipped back into a trough between waves and he vanished. Desperate, the prince searched for some way to help his friend, a line to throw him. He looked down to his feet and found the rope responsible for tripping him up—likely saving him from being washed overboard himself—lying nearby.

  Teryk snatched it off the deck and ran it through his hands until he reached the end. He tied it to the rail and looped it into his fists as the ship rose on another swell. Legs spread wide to keep his balance, he looked back to the sea, searching for his friend, ready to throw him the rope and drag him aboard.

  He saw no sign of the cabin boy this time. What he did see made the coils slip from his fingers.

  Wide head, long neck, sharp teeth.

  The God of the Deep.

  XXXII Ailyssa—The Veil

  A green glow crept into the sky above the tops of the trees, like a sunset gone awry. They amended their path, heading for the eerie light, though Ailyssa felt uncertain it was the best course of action. So far, the nameless man’s instincts had proven correct, so she followed without comment despite the twinge of foreboding gripping her chest.

  The glow neither brightened nor dimmed as they moved toward it. Instead, it climbed higher and higher into the sky, appearing to separate the twilight creeping in from behind them from the daylight still stretching out ahead.

  The land they’d traversed since leaving the transforming village rose and fell, the ground undulating with hills. They found themselves alternately in dales filled with shadow and air cooled by the shade of tall trees, then atop crests bathed in the warm rays of the sun. Ailyssa wished to take the time to enjoy both, but the strange figure they’d seen watching them from the village left her unsettled, wary, frightened. It had been too far away for her to discern who it was, but she didn’t need to know; to her mind, its presence exuded danger.