The Book of Never: The Complete Series

by Ashley Capes

Never crouched, shielding his face as jewels sprayed off the walls. In the silence that followed there was only the tinkling of diamond and sapphire bouncing along stone. He lowered his arm. The sentinel no longer stood in place, instead it was re-forming, as if liquid, rising up to resume its shape and stillness.

  A heap of bloodied flesh, cloth and bone lay on the walkway, blue sapphire stark against the mess. Blood splattered the walls, as if thrown by a violent wind.

  Nothing remained that could be called Ruveo.

  Someone wretched. Never turned from the blood as his own bile stirred. Ruveo had hardly been a pleasant man, but such a fate... He could not look away from the sentinel. What manner of creature lurked within the pit of jewels before him? The second sentinel had not moved during the attack. Gods protect them, how could they escape? Such guards were too fast.

  Ferne was breathing hard, his face pale beneath his beard. Luis had stumbled back into the pictography room. Never kicked the wall. He stormed over to the final image. How smug they now seemed, enthroned above everyone. To the Burning Graves with them.

  “Is it all for death, then?” he shouted. “Is that all you’ve given me?”

  The image remained silent.

  “We cannot give up.” Ferne moved into the room, the Eye still in his grip. “There is reason here, just like with the rest of the Isle.”

  “You think so?” Never snapped.

  Luis sat with his head between his knees.

  “Yes.” Ferne remained calm.

  Never shook his head, but he began to pace. It might be so. But he would not test it himself. “All that can be certain is that Ruveo was safe up until the point where he passed the sentinel.”

  “How can you be sure?” Luis had raised his head.

  “Because he was able to use the walkway. A jewel hit the pit as he walked, yet that thing didn’t move until he attempted to pass it.”

  Ferne was nodding along. “It didn’t strike until he tried to leave.”

  “No, Ferne.” Luis dragged himself up. “Until he tried to leave with the jewels.”

  Ferne frowned at the Eye.

  “We need to be sure,” Never said. If nothing else, he would exhaust every possibility before becoming a pile of shredded meat and bone. “I’m going to try something.”

  He left the room and knelt by the pit, eyes on the sentinels.

  Ferne and Luis waited behind him. “What do you have in mind?” Ferne asked.

  “I want to cast a jewel beyond them. See if they react. If so, we can assume the sentinels were put here to keep the treasure – and the Eye – safely in this chamber.” He ran a hand through his hair, maybe to stop it shaking. “And, I hope, that so long as we carry no jewel, we will not be attacked.”

  “Testing that last part is a big risk,” Luis said.

  “It is.”

  Ferne still held the Eye. “I cannot give this up. Not now that I have it.”

  “You may have to,” Luis said.

  “For years I have searched and planned for this.” His voice hardened. “I cannot.”

  “Is it worth dying for?”

  “By the gods it is.”

  Never shrugged. “We might all die yet.” He drew his knife and lowered it toward a jewel, giving it a flick and snatching his hand back. The sapphire clinked down a small heap. Neither sentinel stirred. He grinned. Stupid of him to grin at death – but then, what other choice was there? Weep? No, better to go laughing. “Think I was fast enough?”

  “No,” Luis said.

  “Good. My confidence is rising again.” He lowered a hand into the pit and withdrew a large diamond. Still the sentinels did not move. “The theory holds true thus far.” He stood, giving each man a look before throwing the jewel.

  It flew straight for the exit – right up until the first sentinel flashed into movement, a hand-of-jewels snatching the diamond from the air.

  He took a breath. Gods, the thing was fast.

  “Another test.” Never took a handful of jewels in each hand, and hurled them forth. Both sentinels splayed into tendrils, snagging jewels from the air with hideous speed. He straightened. “Take heart, gentleman. This we may be able to use,” he said.

  “Do you really think you can distract them?” Ferne asked.

  “Perhaps – but there’s one more test.” Never stepped onto the walkway opposite to Ruveo’s remains. He paused. If he was wrong, terrible things were about to happen.

  “Are you sure about this?” Luis asked.

  “I’d bet at least two-thirds of my gold on it,” he said.

  Luis gave a weak laugh. “And how much gold do you have?”

  “Right now? None – but imagine I do.”

  He took another step. No movement. He pulled in a breath and held it as he moved around the wall, taking the opposite path to Ruveo. Drawing level with the sentinel, he paused to extend just his hand. If he was wrong, he could live without one hand. Probably.

  Nothing.

  He inched forward, a single step landing close to the wall. And then another.

  “You’re past it,” Luis cried.

  Never exhaled. It was true. He continued until he’d reached the other side, then took a few steps down the hall. Several bloodied diamonds lay on the stone. Perhaps there was a limit to the distance the sentinels could reach but he did not touch the gems.

  He returned, unable to repress a shiver when forced to turn his back on the sentinels.

  “So what now?” Luis asked.

  “Easy. Empty your pockets and walk out,” he said.

  “I cannot leave the Eye,” Ferne said.

  Never extended his hand. “I have mostly enjoyed knowing you, Ferne.”

  “Help me and I will make it worth your while,” he said. “With the Eye, no wealth will be denied me.”

  “I don’t desire gold; you have nothing I need.”

  Ferne smiled, the first one Never had witnessed from the man. “I have a ship.”

  Never hesitated.

  “How about passage to the Hanik woodlands?”

  He hung his head a moment. “Fine. Luis, you stay with me. Ferne, line up near the sentinel.”

  “What are we doing?” Luis asked.

  “I’m going to be in the middle, heaving jewels as a distraction. You’ll be doing the same from behind Ferne.”

  Ferne frowned. “Will that work?”

  “I have no idea,” Never said. “There are diamonds in the passage, so I assume there’s a limit to their reach. And it’s not the whole pit we need to distract, just the mass of the two sentinels; that’s the part that moves. It might work.”

  The big treasure-hunter slapped him on the back. “It’s a better idea than I have – which is nothing.”

  Ferne crept along the walkway, stopping at a point close to level with the sentinel. Even the muscles in his neck were strained where he stood, waiting. Never scooped pile after pile into his arms, motioning for Luis to do the same, before he walked into the central walkway. “I’m going to aim for the furthermost corner from you,” he told Ferne. “I’m hoping I can draw its bulk there.”

  “And me?” Luis asked.

  “Throw between the sentinel and Ferne.”

  He nodded. Never grabbed his first handful. “Ready?”

  Ferne gave no answer but his eyes were locked on the shadows leading to freedom.

  Never met Luis’ eyes then nodded. “On my command.”

  “Ready.”

  “Go!” He cast a heap of stones at the corner. Jewels exploded, blocking his view, but he kept throwing, bending to the pit and throwing more until he heard a shout, the words indistinct.

  He stopped.

  The hail of white and blue faded.

  Ferne stood in the mouth of the passage, waving his arms. Blood flowed from a gash in his forearm and from his thigh that had been slashed up and down, but he was upright. “Never, you’re a clever bastard, you know that?”

  Chapter 13.

  Never climbed the last stair and tu
rned back to help pull Ferne up into Javiem’s room. Moonlight fed the vein, a soft glow. The treasure hunter walked with a limp and was now covered in makeshift bandages but he still carried the Sea King’s Eye – and despite the grimace he gave when he lay against a wall, an almost-smile graced his bearded face.

  Luis paced, slow steps around the room.

  “I’ll take the first watch,” Never said. He re-tied the bandages on his own hands – even the pieces of cloak he’d used to shift the rubble had not protected his hands from cuts inflicted by the diamonds below. “We should try and sleep before figuring out a way off this island.”

  “We’ll make a signal fire,” Ferne said. “The White Wing will approach then.”

  “And break up on that graveyard of a reef out there,” Never said.

  “We’ll think of something.”

  Never sat against the door with a grin. “Good, because I’m all out of ideas – your turn to save me, got it?”

  Ferne chuckled as he lay back, closing his eyes.

  Never glanced at the spearman. “Luis?”

  “I’ll lie down soon. I just need to walk for a little longer,” he said.

  Never nodded and rested his head against the smooth door, facing the staircase. So long as nothing tried to climb it, all would be well.

  The night wore on.

  When he began to blink, Never stood to stretch. The hunters were sleeping on the stone floor, breathing evenly. Never crossed the room to listen at the stairs. Nothing. The doors must have been keeping the sea-creatures at bay. Did they not know about the switch on the altar? Or how to open the doors with the symbols? Surely they had some inkling, some way to move about.

  But for now there was no sign of them and he needed air.

  Never returned to the door and opened it. Cool air poured in and starlight with it, the sky mostly covered by cloud. Empty stone stretched down to the sea, a black mass with tips of white. Never leant against the door, allowing himself a view of the sea and the stair.

  Years of searching and more to come. No clear answers but more questions. Rulers of mankind? And he was what, a descendant? At the least, surely, bastard half-breed. It explained the blood but little else. And they’d used their blood to transfer knowledge, if those books in the pictographs were apt symbols. And there was nothing to suggest the curse was something so volatile and insidious.

  And yet...the books. It all came back to the books.

  Maybe he wasn’t a freak, a perversion of nature. Just as his brother had always claimed. We’re gifted, Never. Not cursed. You’ve got it wrong – don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s a gift and all that’s left to do is figure out why, to discover what to do with it.

  “And have you found something, brother?” he whispered.

  Cloud shifted and moonlight spread across the island – and was brightly answered from the ground. Never straightened from his slouch. Another symbol. Only this one was part of the island itself, as if imprinted on the stone. He stepped closer.

  The very rock shimmered in response to the light, forming the familiar five-point leaf.

  And then it died as the cloud smothered the moon.

  Was that what Javiem meant when he carved ‘midnight’ into the floor? Had Javiem been the one to visit the treasure-room below? Had he almost escaped, crawled back up and died of his wounds? There were no rubies or any other jewels on his skeleton, that much Never was certain of. Someone else had defaced the murals, it seemed. And escaped the sentinels. Sadly for Pabil, there was little Never could tell the man.

  He returned to the room and closed the door before waking Luis.

  “Already?”

  “Sorry to say.”

  Never lay down on the softest part of the stone floor he could find – which could have been anywhere, it was all terrible – and closed his eyes.

  *

  “So what do we put in it?” Never asked, shielding his eyes from the sun.

  Before him, on the stretch of stone near the woods, a bonfire pumped heat into the air. Branches smouldered, leaves crackling and shrivelling. Luis dumped another heap of dried vines onto the flames, sparks leaping. It’d taken all morning but they finally had a blaze big enough to do the job – save for one more ingredient.

  Ferne turned from the sea, snapping his fingers. “Rose-bark.”

  “Here?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a coastal tree. Look, see?” He pointed. “The thin leaves at the edge of the wood. And we need a lot.”

  Never looked to the woods and sighed. “You’re lucky your leg is hurt,” he said.

  “I don’t feel lucky,” Ferne replied.

  Never grinned as he joined Luis. The air was cooler within the treeline, the hardy trees digging deep into the rocky earth, roots spread wide. It made for an open wood.

  “These,” Luis said, pointing to a stand of the twisted trees. Their limbs ended in thorns, the thin leaves almost like needles. The trunk was covered in dense bark which came away easily as Never stripped it back. He took sparingly from each tree – who knew if he’d kill any in such exposed conditions.

  Back at the fire, he dumped the bark onto the blaze and stood back. The flames lowered a moment, then a thick, purple-ish smoke puffed into the air. It rose into a thick column when Luis added his armful.

  Ferne clenched a fist. “That’s the way.”

  “I’ll get some more,” Luis said. Never joined him and by the third pile they had a serious plume of purple-tinted smoke choking their small part of the sky.

  “Will it be enough?”

  “It better be,” Ferne said. “I’m paying that rat of a captain enough to stay close to the islands.”

  “Then now we wait,” Never said, sitting on a nearby rock.

  He only had to wait an hour before a ship appeared in the distance, it’s white sails bright beneath the noon sun. When it cast anchor he stood, unable to stop a big smile. Time to leave. Finally.

  “How do we warn them about the reef?” Luis asked.

  Never swore. The reef. He pulled his cloak free and banked the fire, once, twice, a pause, twice again, varying his movements and using the smoke to create the signal for caution. Would it be enough?

  Flags on the mast answered and a long boat was lowered, but what measures could they take? They didn’t know the dangers. Never didn’t even know the dangers, not truly. The boat graveyard was difficult to understand – with all the wrecks, why had so many continued to row to their deaths?

  The longboat turned and started to pick up speed as it approached the reef. Never shielded his eyes. The men were rowing hard but not racing – and yet, the longboat was still increasing its speed.

  Shouts echoed across the water. Several oarsman lifted their blades, yet the boat continued to race toward the reef.

  “Something’s propelling it,” Never said.

  “There,” Ferne pointed.

  Webbed hands flashed in the water beside the boat, grasping at the oars. Sea-creatures. The scaly bastards meant to drive the longboat onto the reef. Some of the sailors were beating at the water with their oars, others rowing against the force of who knew how many creatures dragging the boat forward.

  Shrill notes cut the air. Luis stood at the edge of the water, the reed pipe in hand.

  Never caught his shoulder. “We need to be closer.”

  Luis nodded. They ran to the green vines growing over an outcropping and started down, Luis first.

  “Careful down there,” Ferne shouted.

  Never nodded as he followed Luis. The vine creaked beneath his hands as he dug his boots into the cliff-face. The crash of waves grew as he neared the bottom.

  “Watch your footing,” Luis said.

  Beneath him waited a jumble of wood; planking and the butt of a mast, even fragments of oars jutting between tips of jagged reef. He put pressure on a stack of wood and it creaked but held.

  “We’ll have to pick a path,” Luis said.

  Never scanned the debris. Enough of the wood rose
and fell with the waves, that slipping through would be a death-trap. If a large piece of wood moved after he fell, it could seal him beneath the surface.

  The sailors were fighting off the sea creatures but the boat had yet to crash.

  Luis leapt across the wreckage, using the largest pieces as stepping stones. Never followed, spreading his arms to keep balance. Halfway to the edge of the cemetery the wrecks had spread out enough that Luis paused on an outcropping of rock. He lifted his pipe and played a melody, fighting the wind.

  But it was enough.

  Green hands slipped into the water. Enough stopped their kicking that the sailors could land heavy blows. Oars snapped and shouts rose but one of the sailors was able to slow their advance enough that they smacked into a broken hull with moderate impact.

  “Keep playing,” Never shouted. To the boat, he cupped his hands. “Can you come closer?”

  One of the sailors waved. “We’ll try.”

  Never looked back to the cliff-top, where Ferne waited. Getting him down would be difficult, but he’d leave that to the sailors. The boat crept closer, men driving it through the piles of wood as best they could, casting pieces aside until they rested before Luis, who didn’t stop playing.

  “Ferne is injured,” Never said. “Can you help him down?”

  An oarsman nodded. “We’ll manage.”

  “What is this place?” another asked.

  “Nowhere to linger,” Never said. The wood shifted beneath him with the tide and he stepped for firmer footing.

  The piece of decking snapped.

  He crashed through with a cry. Cold water enveloped him, bubbles and splinters flashing in the dark. Never swam for the surface but the shifting roof of wood blocked him. He thrashed, tearing at the pieces but for every one he moved, another slid into place.

  Something caught his leg.

  He kicked it free, but the grip returned. In the dark, a sea creature loomed. It had him, both hands wrapped around one leg. Its mouth worked, gills flaring beneath a silver chain, whose star-shaped pendant caught on a shaft of light from a gap in the wood.

  He frowned as the creature pushed him up, shoving from part of the reef. Never’s lungs strained as he tore at the wooden ceiling of what could become his tomb, before finally breaking the surface. A hand grabbed his own and he was pulled free, the creature giving another push from below.