The City of Night Neverending

by Steven Lochran

  ‘Ready?’ Naveer called out.

  ‘When you are,’ Drake replied as the ragtag battalion prepared to charge.

  Naveer hefted his crossbow, the incendiary bolts loaded and the string drawn tight. He looked again at Joss. ‘Remember what I said.’

  Joss wanted to say so many things in return. He wanted to tell him that he was sorry for his cruelty. He wanted to say how much Naveer’s sacrifice meant. But the words wouldn’t come. All he could do was nod. Satisfied with that, Naveer returned the gesture, then walked the length of the wall to stop at its edge. Father and son shared one last look and then Naveer prepared to move.

  ‘Wait!’ Joss called out to him, and Naveer stopped. He cocked his head, curious, expectant. ‘Whatever you were,’ Joss said. ‘Whatever else you may have been – you’re my father. And I’ll never forget that.’

  The joy that had lit up Naveer’s face earlier flared again, tempered this time by the surrounding darkness. Joss could feel his Bladebound brethren at his side, but he kept his gaze fixed on Naveer, who offered one last bow of the head, then jumped out from behind cover and ran.

  The pyrates were on him in an instant, loosing arrows and firing off their flamecannons. Naveer fired back, his crossbow bolts piercing the darkness of the Tower Memoria. Screams and shouts of panic rang out as flames erupted within the building. He kept running, heading in the opposite direction of the harbour.

  With the pyrates amply distracted, the prentices and the escaped hostages made their move. Joss led the way quickly, following the path that Naveer had avoided, but once they were out of the worst danger, he gestured the others on and drew to a stop. He could still see Naveer in the distance, shooting fiery crossbow bolts as he ran on towards the flames that were engulfing the city. He was shouting at his attackers, doing everything he could to keep them focused on him.

  ‘You cravenly sons of demons! You fathers of dust and ashes! Come out here and face me, if you have the mettle!’

  A crash came from within the tower, as if barricades were being ripped away and thrown to the floor, then the pyrate with the bladed leg burst outside, a pack of cutthroats following close behind him.

  ‘Come on, lads!’ he shouted, taking off after Naveer. ‘Let’s gut this cocky loudmouth and feed him his own entrails!’

  Naveer drew the pyrates away, leading them into the furthest reaches of the island. It was this image that Joss chose as his final memory of his father.

  He watched him for as long as he could, watched until the man whose face so closely resembled his own had slipped away into the shadows, and then he followed the others, past the ruins of his childhood, knowing that he would never be the same again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  A RISING SHADOW

  THE tunnel to the harbour was just as slick and suffocating as Joss remembered. It forced everyone into single file as they marched down into the abyss, with each shadow hiding – in Joss’s mind – a feathery black cloak, a pair of empty eyes, a stone mask that betrayed no emotion.

  But Thrall was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps Naveer had been right. Perhaps Thrall’s wounds had proven too severe to overcome. Or perhaps he’d already made his escape, having fled a city that was growing more unstable by the moment. The tremors were sending rocks tumbling loose, the smaller ones bouncing away harmlessly, the larger ones hitting with deadly force.

  Already one hostage had been struck senseless, and was being carried with Edgar’s help. Hero was at the end of the line, guarding the rear, zamaraq in one hand and humming knife in the other. That left Drake and Joss leading the march, constantly looking ahead for any sign of trouble. All that Joss found in this weak light, however, were the many puddles that had been spattered on the chiselled stone steps and across the rough, craggy walls.

  ‘See this?’ Drake quietly asked, tapping at one of the puddles with the toe of his boot.

  ‘Smelt it more like,’ Joss replied, his nose wrinkling at the coppery stink of blood. Maybe Thrall hadn’t been so quick to escape after all.

  ‘We need to be cautious,’ said Drake. ‘There’s no telling what could have caused it.’

  Joss responded only with a troubled nod, wary that he already knew what awaited them. But still they trudged downward, the earth folding in over their heads even as it continued to tremble.

  When they finally emerged into the cavernous harbour it was to the sight of bodies strewn across the ground like discarded ragdolls. Weapons at the ready, Joss signalled for the others to remain where they were while he and Drake scouted ahead. They had taken only a few short steps before Joss was met with a blade to the throat. Keeping as still as possible, he stole what might be his only glance at his assailant.

  ‘Salt!’ he exclaimed with relief, and the spearhead at his jugular was lowered.

  ‘Ganymede! Josiah!’ Salt said. His face and hands were covered in fine cuts, but otherwise he looked unharmed. ‘I had all but given up hope of seeing you again.’

  ‘And we didn’t know if you’d still be here,’ replied Drake.

  ‘That I am.’ Salt gestured to the fallen pyrates. ‘Though not without some effort.’

  ‘What about Bhashvirak?’ Joss asked, while Drake returned to the stairs to let everyone know it was safe to proceed.

  ‘Gone. Took off the moment the island began to shake.’ Salt peered over Joss’s shoulder. ‘I see you’ve brought company.’

  The hostages were pouring out of the passageway behind them and gawking at the bodies, as well as at the armed and unkempt man responsible for all the bloodshed.

  ‘It’s all right. He’s with us,’ Hero assured them, though everyone maintained their distance, standing with their backs against the rocky cavern walls.

  ‘Salt, are all the submersibles still here?’ asked Joss. Naveer would surely have eluded his pursuers by now, which meant he’d be doubling back to the city to destroy the protective sigils. Time was running out.

  ‘All but one. A pair of marauders was able to pass me as I was busy dealing with their comrades. They had a pack of raptors with them.’

  ‘Does that leave us with enough to get everyone to safety?’

  Salt scanned the vessels moored along the harbour, his expression uncertain as he then counted the people lined up against the wall. ‘We’ll know soon enough,’ he said.

  Wishing he had more assurance than that, Joss addressed the hostages. ‘Is anyone here capable of driving one of these things?’

  A few doubtful hands were raised, while a couple of others were coaxed into doing the same by the people who knew them.

  ‘But I’m just a navigator on a fishing trawler! I’d never even set foot on a submersible before being abducted on one,’ a bearded young man objected after a friend had volunteered him.

  ‘We don’t have a lot of other options,’ Joss said, ‘Captain.’

  The young man seemed stricken to have such a title imposed on him, but he consented to it all the same. Soon everyone was gathered into small groups and began boarding the submersibles.

  ‘Salt is going to lead us all out of here,’ Joss called to those aboard their vessels, his voice bouncing around the cave while he stood on the dock. ‘We’ll have to navigate single file through the tunnel. Once we’ve cleared that we’ll head for the surface, where we can regroup and then sail for shore.’

  ‘Be safe, everyone!’ added Edgar, while Hero gave the final command.

  ‘Lock your hatches and power your engines. We’re shipping out!’

  Doors slammed shut and were fastened tight. The cavern grew smoggy as each of the submersibles rumbled into operation. Standing at the edge of the dock, Salt gave a small salute to the prentices, who had not yet boarded a vessel, before shifting into his animal form and diving into the water. The first of the submersibles soon followed, with each of them trailing in turn.

  ‘I’m going to need help with getting these two on board,’ Lilia said, gesturing to the injured hostages and the last submersible. Joss, Hero, Drake an
d Edgar were quick to help her carry them down the dock. They were almost to their craft when another quake ripped through the island, knocking them off balance and unleashing a rain of spear-shaped stalactites.

  ‘We need to get out of here. Now. We don’t have much time left.’ Joss helped Lilia back onto her feet, only to be struck dumb by a dark and haunting voice from the water, the wisp scar blazing against his flesh.

  ‘You’re more right than you know, boy.’

  A shadow rose from the bow of the submersible. It was intangible at first, a black shape without form or face. But then it began to solidify, feathered cloak twitching into existence, curved sword swishing the air.

  Thrall stared down at the ragged band of survivors before him.

  And then he attacked.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  A BLACK VORTEX

  LIKE a pterosaur after its prey, Thrall dived upon the prentices. Drake only just raised his spear in time to keep his face from being split in half, and then he was driven backward by a relentless barrage of blows.

  ‘Leave Mister Drake alone!’ Edgar shouted as he rushed forward to help, and was quickly rewarded with a sharp kick to the gut that sent him flying. Hero had to sidestep the airborne steward and raise her zamaraq in the same motion, then cursed as Thrall flung Drake straight at her, knocking them both senseless as they slammed into the rocky cavern wall. That left only Joss.

  ‘How are you still standing?’ he said, searching Thrall for any sign of injury. All that remained of his wounds were the rips in his vestments, and the dark stains that coloured them. ‘I saw you impaled right in front of me!’

  ‘It would take more than that to fell a servant as faithful as I,’ Thrall said as he smoothed out his feathered cloak. ‘You, though? You I imagine to be a far more fragile thing. Easily crippled with just a snap of the neck. And when that’s done, I’ll drag you and your brethren here back to the city, where you’ll be surrendered to the darkness as tribute to His Majesty.’

  ‘Tribute to His Majesty?’ Joss said, thinking back on what had happened to the other people who’d served in Thrall’s ritual. It hadn’t looked like a peaceful death, but it had been a quick one. Certainly more merciful than what his parents and all the people of Daheed had suffered.

  ‘It would be quite the honour, boy. Believe me. So put away that gaudy little sword of yours and save us any further trouble.’

  The masked man’s words came with flashes of memory: Joss’s first encounter with Thrall all the way back in Tower Town, and the glowing orb the strange man had held that offered visions of glory; the sight of Thrall conducting his sermon upon the First Step of Daheed, his devout followers gathered at his feet.

  Thrall’s stony gaze was fixed rigidly on Joss, his empty eyes as black as a shark’s. Feeling a tug inside his soul, Joss sheathed the Champion’s Blade.

  Thrall nodded with approval. ‘Smart lad,’ he said, moving forward. ‘Perhaps I underestimated you. Perhaps someone of your talents is in want of a master. I watched you through the ruins of this dead city while I gave myself time to heal. I saw how you dealt with Ichor’s men. Very impressive for someone so young.’

  ‘It was?’ Joss asked, against the unnatural whispers in his brain. He shook his head, dispelling them for a moment, while Thrall continued to advance on him. The whispers crept back in, growing louder.

  ‘The truth is, I’ve long found this pyrate scum to be ill-suited for His Majesty’s service,’ the masked man said, blade flashing beside him. ‘All this sacrifice, all this death. It hasn’t been in vain. It’s all been towards a greater good. And I could use someone as able as you at my side, ensuring that all this effort is not wasted.’

  Joss frowned through his confusion and the whispering in his head. He could feel a bead of sweat trickling down his temple, though he knew he couldn’t risk wiping it away. One false move and Thrall would end him. ‘You made an offer like this before, back at Tower Town,’ Joss said, the glowing orb and its glorious visions flashing again in his memory. ‘You told me that chances were like lives. We don’t get more than one. Don’t you remember?’

  Thrall lost a step as the earth rumbled all around them, but recovered quickly. ‘And yet here I am, offering you a whole new lease on life. What say you, boy? Are you prepared for more power than you could have ever possibly hoped for?’

  Joss turned his gaze over to where his Bladebound brethren were only just starting to stir. ‘What about my friends?’ he asked.

  Thrall waved away Joss’s concern. ‘A necessary sacrifice for a greater cause. Though the hostages may have escaped, a price must still be paid. But why should that worry you? You’ll find soon enough that with great power comes little need for friendship. Only obedience.’

  Joss stepped back, the whispers in his head growing silent. Thrall followed, and Joss retreated. Thrall moved again, and again Joss stepped away. Slowly, one move at a time, Joss backed his way along the wharf, his eyes fixed on Thrall as the masked man followed him.

  ‘I see I rushed too soon to praise you,’ Thrall said, his voice taut as he maintained a moderate distance from his quarry. ‘If you’re so determined to die alongside your collaborators, then so be it. This little game of yours only delays the inevitable.’

  Planks creaked under Joss’s feet as he edged down the pier that ran out into the centre of the lake. He circled both hands around the grip of his humming knife. With great concentration, he whipped the blade through the air. It flowed from one position to the next, the runes glowing in his face, and a lilting tune floated into the air.

  ‘What is that?’ asked Thrall, stepping onto the pier to continue his unhurried pursuit. Joss didn’t answer, concentrating instead on his form, his fluidity. Even the smallest mistake would be enough to silence the song, and he couldn’t allow that. Not now. Not with so much hanging in the balance.

  ‘Is that …’ Thrall hesitated, searching the air for answers. The tune grew louder. He continued towards Joss, boots thumping the boards.

  The humming knife was shining so bright now that it was blinding Joss. He kept going. With every backward step he swiped his blade, swung it, twirled and slashed it. He could hear the water churning beneath him, waves lapping at its pillars, bubbles popping in time to the song his knife was singing.

  ‘Is that a summoning song?’ asked Thrall in disbelief from halfway down the pier, laughing in his choked, raspy manner. ‘You truly are desperate, boy. What could you possibly hope to summon down here?’

  Joss made no reply, he just kept carving his spell into the air. Thrall laughed again, heartier this time. Joss’s brow twinged as he wondered what was so amusing, only to realise as his heel searched for firm ground and found nothing. He was at the end of the pier with his back to the great beyond and nowhere else to go. Worse, his faltering step made him lose his place in the song, his humming knife falling instantly silent. He realised now that despite all that Thrall had offered him, the masked man had only been playing with him, biding his time until Joss was at his most vulnerable.

  ‘It would seem your impromptu performance is at an end,’ Thrall said, sword hovering at his side. The bent red metal resembled a tongue, its tip glinting thirstily. ‘Perhaps you’ll allow me to perform the encore.’

  The water was swirling now. Joss dropped to his knees and held the pier.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Show’s over.’

  Thrall drew breath to reply. It would be his last.

  ‘MIGHTY BHASHVIRAK IS ARRIVED!’

  The great shark rose up like a tidal wave, white and grey and sleek and deadly. It opened its mouth, as black a vortex as any that Thrall had worshipped.

  And with one cataclysmic bite it swallowed the man in the stone mask whole.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  AN END TO THE DREAM OF DAHEED

  THE pier shattered as Bhashvirak snapped it in half and slammed back into the water, his fin slicing through what little remained. Joss was left clinging to the one wooden pillar, struggli
ng to stay afloat as Bhashvirak dived back beneath the surface. But he couldn’t help grinning triumphantly.

  He’d done it! With only a humming knife and an ounce of hope, Joss had slipped free of whatever spell Thrall had cast and somehow managed to summon the King of the Seas. He wondered what Sur Verity would think if she were here. More to the point, what Naveer might say if he’d seen what his son had done.

  But Naveer wasn’t here. And he never would be again. Joss’s triumph evaporated as another earthquake ripped through the island.

  ‘Joss! Are you hurt?’ Drake called from the shore while gingerly rubbing the back of his head.

  ‘I’m all right!’ He looked at the wrecked pier, at his lone pillar. ‘Stranded. But all right.’

  ‘You’re not the only one,’ Hero replied as she joined Drake. ‘The submersible’s damaged!’

  ‘What?!’ Joss whipped around to see the craft bobbing in Bhashvirak’s wake, its tailfin and propeller both so bent that it would be impossible to steer. The great shark must have damaged it in his attack. How were they going to escape now?

  Joss considered their options, few as they were. Closing his eyes, he quietened his mind and called out. ‘Mighty Bhashvirak, are you still there?’

  ‘MIGHTY BHASHVIRAK REMAINS!’ the shark answered, his fin rising from the depths to slice the water surrounding Joss. ‘AND HIS HUNGER IS SATED. FOR NOW.’

  ‘That’s a relief,’ Joss muttered to himself before addressing the great beast. ‘Thank you for all your help –’

  ‘MIGHTY BHASHVIRAK DOES NOT “HELP”. MIGHTY BHASHVIRAK DOES AS MIGHTY BHASHVIRAK WILLS!’

  The fin, large as a catamaran’s sail, cut past Joss’s pillar. Joss shifted his weight, repositioned his hands. ‘In that case … would Mighty Bhashvirak be willing to perform one last act?’

  Joss explained his plan, first to the megalodon and then to everyone on shore. His voice was hoarse from shouting and his arms were growing weary from holding on, so he was grateful at how quickly Drake, Hero and Edgar snapped into action.