by Dawn Dagger
“What happened to you?” She whispered to him. The men around her had finished their soup and were dumping their bowls in a haphazard pile, moving to settle down for the night or to listen to Norrin. They did not risk being overheard.
“I lost my footing, that all,” he grit. “I fell down pretty far. Hurt real bad, ya know?”
Levanine opened her mouth to prompt him to tell the truth, knowing full well that was not what had happened, but the fearful flicker in his pale blue eyes alerted her to the nasty brutes watching them through half closed eyes.
“You’ve got to be more careful!” She said a little too loudly, playing dumb.
Levanine felt a tremble pass through her body and she suddenly hoped to the Saints that their attempt to push him off of the cliff would be the end of his tormenting. He had done nothing to them.
She hoped she would not have to sew torn skin like a sail, vomiting later in quiet as Silva slept, missing something that the men who stole it cared not have. Too many times she had seen Lords and angry men do so to unsuspecting girls and boys.
She prayed to Saint Lashan as she wiped off Silva’s face.
“Are y’alright?” Silva whispered, pushing her hand down from his face.
“Just cold.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. The winds had picked up in the cave, and were whistling in and out of the tunnels sharply, carrying a bitter, wet chill with them. Silva offered her his second tunic, but she shook her head, standing up. “Eat your soup, I’ll go my cloak from the ship.”
Most of the men were to be asleep now, their eyes either closed or half closed, covered in sheets or just lying in misshapen piles on the rocky ground. The Captain had his tricorne hat pulled down over his eyes, his hand clutching something hanging at his neck, Quinn asleep next to him. She did not think she would have to ask him to return to the ship for her cloak.
Braxton, Eldred, Palea, and Kasha sat in a small group, just outside of the firelight, murmuring. Eldred had pulled a part of the sail into his lap and was sewing it carefully. “Eat your food,” she murmured, handing Silva his soup before she turned and started out.
Levanine paused beside the mouth of the cave, feeling frightened of the darkness, but then stepped out into the cool darkness.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but when they did she could faintly see the outline of her own boots and the shape of the Red Running Royalty, who creaked and groaned as the waves whispered against the shore.
The ship looked majestic, and not terribly unlike a ghoul-ship, resting on the beach. Levanine quietly crunched across the gravel and stared up at the side of the ship. She could climb the rope up onto the deck. Her stomach growled and she realized she had forgotten to eat herself.
No matter, she would get food after she had retrieved her cloak. She steeled herself, suppressing shivers of cold, then wrapped her bloody, hurting hands around the rope of the anchor.
It took a half dozen tries, but she eventually got a good handhold and footing on the rope, and slowly began to pull herself up. It was laborious, and burned her hands and muscles, but she did not give up.
Levanine rolled onto the deck of the ship, dropping heavily. The thud of her landing echoed across the ship. She hugged herself lightly, beginning towards the Captain’s cabin. Her footsteps clicked eerily across the deck as she walked. The cold, wet air caressed her bare legs.
I should have grabbed a lantern. She thought, glancing around the dark ship. The masts, without their great sails, looked like skeletal fingers, clawing up out of the ship. No, then I could not have climbed the rope… I am alright.
Levanine opened the cabin door and stepped inside. The cabin was a little warmer than the rest of the ship, and a lantern flickered on the Captain’s desk. Wait, hadn’t she taken the lantern? She swore she had… Maybe she hadn’t. Maybe she was going crazy.
Levanine pulled her cloak off of the bed, then decided to change into trousers. She quickly changed and wrapped the cloak around herself, feeling warm and a little more brave. She watched the broken fragments of the pen sparkle in the penlight, then decided to fetch a dagger from off the desk. She tucked it into her belt
Levanine was exhausted to the core of her being, but not tired, so she figured she might grab some soap to wash the bowls with as she grabbed the lantern on the desk and began out of the cabin.
It was not like she would be sleeping, she realized. Not in the same room as all of the filthy men, without the Captain lying close by to protect her. She would be entirely too frightened, even with her dagger.
Levanine turned and stepped down into the belly of the ship, and she was thankful for the lantern from the cabin. The belly was freezing and pitch black. She stepped into the kitchen and found a metal tub. In it laid a rag and a hunk of ash soap.
She grabbed the items and headed back to the deck. As she crossed to the edge of the ship, she heard something. Sksksksk. She froze, her heart pounding.
What had that been? No one of the men, surely. They were all asleep.
A ghoul? A werewolf? Or maybe some awful creature that she had never even heard of? One that would tear out her innards and leave them as a warning to the other men to flee the black island.
Ca-caw!
Levanine screamed and jumped, nearly dropping the lantern. She wheeled around and stared up towards the crow’s nest, where the noise had come from, only to realize it was the rainbow bird, shuffling around and calling out.
“Stupid,” she grumbled, feeling cross with herself for being so silly and scared.
Levanine took a few steps forward, then stopped. It felt as if someone were burning her skin, staring at her from every angle and from nowhere at all. She held her breath for a moment, then stepped forward again. Her footsteps echoed in a way they hadn’t before, almost as if there were two sets of footsteps moving.
It’s just the bird.
Despite her explanation, she wasted no time in retreating to the side of the ship, tying the lantern to her belt and throwing the soap and rag down. She grabbed the rope and slid down with a little more grace than the first time. She gathered her stuff close and ran back into the cave.
The firelight burned her eyes, but she didn’t care. Levanine wrapped herself tightly in her cloak, sitting as close to the fire as she dared. She set the lantern down beside her and took a moment to breathe, waiting for her heart to calm its beating.
She was stupid. There was nothing on this abandoned island but rats. She was probably just followed by those creatures, trying to find if she had food on her or not. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Neither Silva nor Norrin nor Quiller had mentioned feeling like there was much else island, so there must be nothing. The sailors were attentive. They were not fools.
Levanine spooned herself a bowl of soup and drank it too quickly, burning her throat. The stew was not boiling, as the fire had died down to mostly embers, but it was still hot enough to hurt and distract her mind. She finished the food, now feeling warm enough to be comfortable. She set down the dish and looked around the cave.
The sleeping men looked like heaps in the dying emberlight. Braxton and Eldred still sat up, talking and sewing the sail, and Levanine believed they must have been on watch for the first part of the night.
Silva yawned widely and slowly approached, sitting beside her. “Are you going to sleep now that you’ve eaten and gotten your cloak?” He asked, rubbing his eyes with one hand.
Levanine shook her head, moving to get herself some freshwater. “I’m going to wash the bowls first.”
“I’ll help,” Silva offered, giving her a meek smile. His eye had swollen shut.
“I think you need to sleep…” Levanine tried gently, taking a sip of cool water. It felt good on her burnt throat. Part of her truly wanted him to join her, to keep her company and stave off whatever was watching her. If there was anything. Another part of her simply wished she were brave.
“Are you sure?” He as
ked, looking unconvinced. His normal eye was almost shut on its own from him exhaustion. She nodded. He yawned widely again, then gave in and wandered to one of the far edges of the cave, settling down on a sheet and almost instantly falling asleep.
Levanine gathered an armful of the bowls, setting the rag and soap in one of them, and slowly wandered out of the cave, back onto the black beach. She set down the first set of bowls, then returned for the second set, this time carrying the lantern in her free hand.
She was relieved as she left the cave. It was nice to be distanced from the men, whether they were sleeping or not. She sat down beside the black ocean, the pile of bowls on her right and the lantern on her left, and began to scrub them.
She could see the sky above her was a mottled pattern of dark clouds, and she realized the moon must be high above them, shining some light down so that they were different colors. She wondered if both moons were visible, or if it was just the light of a sliver of one.
If the darkness hadn’t been so frightening, the mottled sky might have been beautiful.
The lapping of the waves began to relax Levanine’s mind, and as she began to wash the bowls, she felt tired. She yawned widely as she dipped her fingers in the ice cold water.
She began to believe that going back into the cave and falling asleep might not be such a bad idea. Perhaps she could tie herself to something to make a racket if someone tried to touch her.
Maybe the men would be afraid of the Captain enough to keep their hands to themselves.
Levanine sang softly to herself, a tune of which she knew not all the words and substituted with humming, but something she had heard the farmers’ golden haired daughters sing as they wandered through the vineyards on their ways to meet their beaus.
The sand crunched behind her, but she did not bother to turn, assuming it was one of the men come to relieve himself. She finished washing the rest of the bowls and gathered them up, tied her lantern to her belt, then went back to the cage.
As Levanine crunched across the black sand, she realized that the pile of pelts and innards she had left on the beach was no longer there. Her steps faltered and she froze for a moment, wondering if someone had moved them, or if something had taken them.
Most likely the other cave rats. She tried to convince herself, ducking into the cave. Only a few men were outlined by the embers now. Eldred’s face looked gaunt and shadowy in the light. Levanine set down the bowls beside the fire and turned to leave for the rest of them when Braxton gestured to her.
She turned to face him and tilted her head. “Yes?” She whispered as quietly as she could.
“What are you doing, going in and out of the cave so much?” Eldred asked.
“I-I, um, I’m washing the bowls. The less food we have lying around, the better…” She hugged her cloak closer around her, suddenly worrying she might be scolded for moving so much. She hadn’t remembered being told to stay in the cave, but that did not mean that it hadn’t been said.
Eldred nodded. “Finish what you are doing, but then you should get rest. The wounds on your head and hands will not heal otherwise.”
“Yes sir.” She nodded, quickly moving to finish her job. She reached the lapping waves and realized that the bowls were not where she had left them. Levanine lifted her lantern from her belt, furrowing her brows with confusion.
Was she going crazy?
The weak orange circle of light that fell from the lantern bobbed as she turned in small circles, looking for the rest of the dishes. The rag and soap were missing too. Surely the rats hadn’t taken the clean bowls so quickly!
Had she simply misplaced them? The whole of the surrounding looked the same...
Levanine began to wander down the stretch of beach, swinging the lantern back and forth. The watery light fell against the black ocean, sparkling like cracked pieces of kindling breathing sparks.
About ten paces later, she realized there was no way the bowls could have been so far out. When she turned around, she could no longer see the cave through the mists. She would not have washed the bowls that far away.
She hadn’t.
Levanine swallowed the taste of bile that had suddenly climbed her throat and felt herself tense. She felt as if someone was watching her again. Her footsteps whispered against the black sand as she slowly made her way back towards where she assumed the cave was.
There was a distinct, heavy crunching of the sand following her footsteps. It was undeniable. There was something following her, and it wasn’t a rat. Levanine felt her lungs constrict and her hold on the lantern tightened, but she did not run. She did not want to alert the thing to move any faster if it did not plan to.
But, could she bring it back to the cave, whatever it was? Would the men be able to fight it off if it followed her, intent on gobbling them all up?
Levanine was shaking. Her orange lantern glow trembled. Wind caused the light to dance and her long hair to blow across her face. The crunching continued in slow, determined footsteps.
Perhaps it was just a ghoul. Some angry man who had been murdered, wandering and wailing on this terribly dark island. Maybe it was a screaming deceased, one that would grab with cold hands and wail until your ears bled.
Neither option was safe, ghoul or island monster. Nor was one less terrifying than the other.
Levanine could see an orange light through the mists far ahead. The fire in the cave had not been big enough to bleed out onto the shore, but maybe Eldred or Braxton had come to find what was taking her so long? She prayed that was the case.
Maybe they would scare off whatever creature was breathing down her neck. It seemed unlikely, but she could certainly hope. Gooseflesh painted her skin and she dared not breathe. The lantern crackled softly in her hand. The mists hissed.
SssshhhhrrEEE-E-E!
An awful noise, a mix between a rush of wind and a scream, suddenly sounded in Levanine’s ear. Levanine let out a petrified shriek and began running as fast as she could.
The footsteps pounded behind her, crunching and slipping in the sand as her own footing slid. Levanine threw down her lantern, hoping the shattering glass and small explosion of flame would ward the creature off. She ran until she was suddenly tumbling into someone, nearly tossing the lantern from their own hands.
Rakifi nearly fell, but caught both himself and Levanine in time. “Levanine? Are you alright?” He demanded. “What is it?” He held her out at arm’s length as Levanine shook, tears filling her eyes.
“I-I-I--” She stammered, turning around to stare into the dark mists behind her. There was nothing barrelling toward them. Nothing was floating through the mists or hulking as a shadowy figure. There was nothing that even indicated danger.
A small orange spot in the fog suddenly vanished.
“Levanine, you’re okay.” Rakifi was saying, squeezing her shoulder. “Tell me what happened.” Eldred and Braxton were now looking out of the entrance of the cave. She noticed a couple men stirring beyond them. One or two were awake enough to glare at them.
“Th-there was-- a monster! It ate the rats and the bowls. It followed me! It was breathing down my neck! It shrieked!”
Rakifi sent a questioning glance to the other two, who shook their heads. “Levanine, all we heard was the wind, then you screamed.”
“Y-you don’t believe me?” She felt a stab of offense in her chest.
Rakifi’s eyes softened and he gave her the same kind of pitying smile that she would give to a child speaking of goblin’s hiding beneath his bed. It was not unkindly, but made her feel shameful and indignant.
“Maybe you just thought some wind was a ghoul. You seem rather afraid of them. I will admit, this island is quite scary. I can see why you would have been frightened.”
Levanine opened her mouth to protest, but did not, hugging herself tightly. She was so stupid. Perhaps he was right. Maybe she was just a stupid girl who imagined the whole thing up. She was tired. Maybe she was losi
ng her mind.
“It’s mine and Norrin’s turn to take watch.” Rakifi offered quietly, leading her back into the glowing cave. “If you would like, you can sit beside me, and I’ll keep an eye out for any monsters, alright?” He did not seem to be jesting as if she was stupid, and for that she was thankful. She said nothing, instead nodding.
She and Rakifi sat against the wall of the cave, just out of reach of the ember light, but far enough from the mouth of the cave that their lantern at their feet did not spill out onto the beach. Norrin sat across from them against the opposite wall, his arms crossed and his eyes half closed.
Rakifi offered to wrap his arm around her shoulders, so that if anyone tried to touch her he would feel it if he accidentally fell asleep, and she consented, nestling into his hard side. Levanine did not believe she would ever be able to sleep. More ghostly howls whistled into the cave, noises that made her whimper and jolt awake just as she danced on the edge of darkness, but eventually Rakifi’s coaxing relaxed her.
It was odd, being pressed up against him, him technically touching her. It was not an unsafe feeling. He had a warm body.
Norrin began to clean his fingernails with his dagger and Rakifi began to gently hum a bar song that Levanine only half recognized. The soft, dancing tune was enough to occupy her mind, and she closed her eyes, beginning to doze.
Chapter 9
When the sun had risen, or Levanine assumed the sun had risen, the island was not much brighter than it had been during the night. Everything was more of a pale grey, but at least the mists dissolved enough to see clearly for 30 or so paces.
Levanine had been woken up entirely too early for her stiff body’s liking to help Braxton cook breakfast. The breakfast was gruel and strangely hued eggs that some of the men had found in the crevices of the caves while searching for treasure and things to repair the cracks in the Red Running Royalty with.
Levanine could not find the bowls on the beach, and she did not find any evidence that she or anything else had been out on the beach save her shattered lantern. Different groups of men were sent in different directions on the island to try and find trees or anything else useful, and most returned with nothing to show for their time.
