by Rob J. Hayes
“Come on,” Elaina growled, grabbing hold of Keelin’s hand and pulling him into a run.
They chased after the six pirates, closing on them quickly. Keelin shouted, a wordless cry intended to get their attention, and it worked. Aimi glanced behind and slowed to a stop, the others slowing with her.
Keelin collapsed to one knee, the exhaustion making him forget the peril just for a moment. He felt as though he hadn’t slept, nor eaten, for days, and he had so little energy left. If it weren’t for the murderous spirits trying to evict them, he was fairly certain he could collapse there and then and sleep on the street for a few days.
Aimi threw herself at Keelin and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. He hugged her back, vaguely aware of Elaina shaking her head and walking away.
“You scared me,” Aimi said, pulling away from Keelin long enough to punch him, and then leaned into him again.
Keelin stood and pulled her into a close embrace. Aimi sobbed once against his chest and then drew in a deep breath. The little woman went rigid in his arms, and a moment later she was pushing him away, a confused look on her face.
“Wonderful little reunion, Cap’n,” Smithe said. “But I reckon we stirred up a serpent’s nest. Best we fuck off.”
“That thing was Feather?” Keelin said, ignoring the strange look Aimi was giving him.
“Aye.”
“Well, we found Bronson.”
As if on cue, the big spirit-infested pirate lurched around the corner just a few hundred feet away, the vines he controlled snaking along the ground around him. Bronson wasted no time breaking into a sprint towards the expedition.
“Oh, fuck me,” Smithe said, and it was clear just how tired the quartermaster was. The rings under his eyes, the slight stoop to his shoulders – he looked about ready to give up.
Another shot ripped through the air and Bronson crashed to the ground, the vines tangling around his limbs as he sprawled.
“Time to go,” Keelin shouted with one last look at Bronson; he was already surging back to his feet. They ran. Keelin’s feet hurt like all the Hells and his legs felt wooden, his knees barely bending. The others didn’t look much better. He tried to think back to a time when he wasn’t running, and the only image that came to mind was Elaina pinned up against the wall. Keelin threw a guilty look at Aimi and almost tripped over his own feet.
“Turn left,” Alfer shouted from behind, and as Keelin swung around a corner the gate that led into the forest came into glorious view.
Another gun shot rang out, and Keelin slowed to a stop and turned, quickly steering Jotin around him to stop the pirate knocking him over. The others ran past as Keelin looked along the rooftops, trying to spot the marksman.
“Cap’n?” Smithe said, pulling up next to him.
“Kebble.” Keelin pointed.
Kebble almost seemed to be dancing with Feather’s headless corpse, dodging and twisting away from its clumsy attacks, then hitting the insect-covered boy with the butt of his rifle. Feather staggered towards the lip of the rooftop and careened over the side, falling to the ground below with a bone-shattering crash – but Kebble was still dancing, swatting at the air around his head.
“Shit,” Smithe said as Bronson’s wrecked, vine-covered body barrelled around the corner.
Keelin spun on his heel and ran, Smithe at his side. A moment later he heard a thud and Smithe crying out. Keelin turned to see his quartermaster on the ground, a vine wrapped around his legs, pulling him towards Bronson.
Another shot rang out and Bronson hit the street again, rolling away with the force of the bullet, but the vine around Smithe’s legs didn’t let go. Keelin saw Smithe’s nasty little knife lying on the ground between them. Smithe saw it too.
“Cap’n,” the quartermaster cried, clawing at the ground as the vine dragged him away. “Help!”
Keelin had been waiting for this chance for so long. A perfectly reasonable way to rid himself of the man who had challenged his authority for years. No one would argue that the captain was to blame if Smithe was killed in HwoyonDo by a murderous spirit that had taken over Bronson’s body.
Keelin turned away.
With a growl that was frustration at himself as much as the situation, Keelin turned back and ran to his quartermaster’s aid. He couldn’t deny he wanted to be rid of the man, but he wasn’t about to sacrifice Smithe to the evil spirits of a land he had led them to. Besides, no matter how much of a hateful bastard Smithe was, he was also part of Keelin’s crew.
Keelin kicked Smithe’s knife within the quartermaster’s grasp and drew Elaina’s sword from his belt, skidding to a stop by the pirate’s legs and hacking at the vine that held him tight. Bronson started to rise again, and Keelin left Smithe to free himself and closed in on the monster that had once been one of his crew.
He slashed, putting his weight behind the blow, before Bronson could get his cutlass hands up to block. The sword buried itself in the big pirate’s neck and damned near cut all the way through, but it was a short blade and Bronson had a lot of muscle. Vines erupted from the wound, snaking up around the almost-severed head. Keelin stumbled backwards and collided with Smithe, who was also staring in horror.
“Fuck it,” Smithe said quietly.
Keelin glanced at his quartermaster and nodded. “Agreed.”
They turned and ran after the rest of the group, leaving Bronson’s struggling form behind them.
When they reached the gate, Keelin turned back to the ruined city of HwoyonDo. Bronson had given up the chase and joined Feather on the rooftops, charging after Kebble as the marksman leapt from roof to roof, occasionally turning to offer the monsters combat.
“We can’t leave him,” Keelin whispered, trying to think of a way to rescue Kebble.
“We can’t help him,” Elaina said. “We have no way to kill those things. Besides, I kind of think he wants us to go.”
“What do you know?” Keelin snapped. “He ain’t one of your crew.”
One more shot rang out and something hit the gateway beside them. Keelin glanced at the stone, and then back towards the city. He couldn’t make out what was happening in the dim light, but he knew Kebble couldn’t keep fighting forever. Sooner or later the marksman would slip up and the spirits would take him.
“Let’s move out,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Stick close together and move quickly. We’ll drink a toast to the fallen when we’re back on the ship.”
Chapter 48 - The Phoenix
Kebble staggered out of the doorway and onto the moonlit street. He was bloody and weary, limping and using his rifle as a crutch. He had nothing left, and despite his best efforts the spirits were still chasing him down. From behind came the chittering of millions of insects and the crash of Bronson searching the building. Still, he limped on, unable to simply give up and let them catch him.
Immortality, he decided, was a strange thing. He’d spent so many years searching for his death, yet now that it was stalking him and the end was near, he found he couldn’t outrun it fast enough.
His strength wavered and he collapsed onto one knee. For a moment all he could do was sag against his rifle and cough. The rattle in his chest sounded wet, and he knew that was a bad sign. After a moment he looked up. The great library of HwoyonDo rose up in front of him.
“Fitting.” Kebble pulled himself back to his feet and staggered onwards down the ruined street, a ruin he had caused. He mounted the library’s steps slowly, twelve of them leading up to the grand doors. As a child, and even a young man, he’d climbed the stairs two or three at a time, always in a rush to get to the books, to learn. Now he struggled up each one, putting more and more weight on his rifle.
He paused at the threshold, the doors themselves having long since succumbed to time and rotted away. For just a moment Kebble considered turning back. The ghosts within the ruined library were even stronger, almost as though they were real, rather than just figments of his imagination. Kebble shook his head and staggered in
side.
A thick layer of dust coated the floor, and moonlight streamed in through a hole in the roof high above. The front desk was long since gone, only dents in the stone proof that it had ever been there. To either side stood the bookshelves, row upon row of them stretching up into the darkness. But they were all empty, the books long since turned to dust. All of the knowledge the Empire had ever garnered, gone. Only Kebble remained, only his memories of those books remained; and after a thousand years he’d forgotten half of all that he’d learned.
In front of Kebble stood a statue, one of the six faces of his god. The scholar held a book in one hand and a knife in the other, a reminder that knowledge can be used as a weapon. Kebble collapsed at its feet, dropping his rifle and turning to lean against the cold stone. His breathing was painful now, a sharp stabbing in his chest with every draw.
Two figures stood at the doorway, silhouetted against the light. One was tall and broad, surrounded by a writhing mass. The other was small, made smaller still by the lack of a head, and there was a sea of insects creeping towards Kebble. Angry spirits finally come to finish the job.
Something tore inside him, and Kebble gasped, closing his eyes against the pain in his chest. When he opened them again a man was standing in front of him. He was tall and regal, with flowing brown robes and a face that was all too familiar. Kebble attempted to sit a little straighter, but his arms wouldn’t respond. It seemed wrong to slouch so much in front of a god.
“I suppose…” Kebble coughed and tasted blood. “Both our times are finally over now. I’m the last one, the only one who still knows your name. We’ll fade from this world together.” There was a symmetry to it that brought a smile to Kebble’s bloodied lips.
The scholar stared down at him, a book in one hand and in the other a gold statue of his six faces, each one with different gemstones for eyes. It was the statue that belonged in the temple – the temple his crewmates had looted. Kebble looked up, realisation dawning. His god was smiling at him.
Chapter 49 - Starry Dawn
Elaina stumbled through the trees onto the sandy beach and raised a hand to her eyes to ward off the sun. Blinking away the glare, she looked up and down the coastline.
“There,” Aimi said, pointing down the beach.
Elaina squinted, and her heart started to hammer in her chest. A ship floated leisurely in its anchorage just a short way from the shore. The Phoenix had never been such a welcome sight, not even when Tanner had first shown it to his daughter and made her captain.
The remains of the expedition trudged one by one through the last of the trees and onto the sand. They were weary and beyond exhausted, but all eight of them had survived the trip back from HwoyonDo.
“Oh, blessed fuckin’ sea,” Jotin growled through a parched throat, dropping to his knees on the sand and rolling onto his back to stare up at the bright blue sky.
Pavel collapsed the moment sand was under his feet again. The priest was used to relative comfort, and Elaina wagered he’d never experienced anything like the hardship they’d all just been through. His crimson robes were ripped and stained dark with sweat and worse, and the man looked as though he’d lost every bit of fat on his body; his cheeks were gaunt and his eyes sunken.
Elaina hadn’t fared much better. In truth, she’d lived as a pirate for every day of her life, and not once before had she been so dirty, dishevelled, and tired. Her clothes were little more than rags, and she couldn’t decide if they smelled worse or better than her skin. Dried, stale sweat coated every bit of her, and she didn’t want to know how large the bags under her eyes were.
Elaina had lost track of time since leaving HwoyonDo. They’d marched for days until they were all sore and swollen, chafed both in skin and in mood. After that they’d started resting from time to time, but none of them had been able to get much sleep no matter how exhausted they were. The spirits that had taken over Bronson and Feather were still behind them somewhere, and no one wanted to be the next victim. Those who did manage to drop off often awoke terrified by the nightmares that swirled inside their heads.
“Take a few minutes,” Keelin said as he sank down onto his knees. “Then we make for the dinghy. The sooner we’re back on the boat, the sooner we can all rest. Maybe try to forget…”
Nobody argued. They were all grateful for the rest, even if it was a short one. All too soon for Elaina’s weary legs, they were moving again, trudging sliding footprints through the sand. As the sun reached its zenith, they found their dinghy right where they’d left it.
In silence, the group made the boat ready and pushed it out into the shallows, jumping in and settling into place for the row back to The Phoenix.
“What’s that?” Alfer said, letting go of his oar for a moment to point at something along the treeline.
Everybody looked, and Elaina felt her skin crawling. Bronson stood between two giant trees, staring out towards them, only he was more plant than man now, his flesh nothing more than patches of skin around wriggling green tentacles. Elaina looked away and concentrated on her oar, pulling hard against the water. The others soon followed her course.
Chapter 50 - The Phoenix
“Throw me a bucket,” Elaina shouted up to those on deck as the first of their expedition made the climb up to The Phoenix. After Pavel had disappeared over the railing, Elaina filled the bucket with seawater and started up the rope ladder. Aimi would have been impressed by the woman’s strength, carrying a bucket as she climbed, but she hated Elaina too much to be impressed by anything the bitch did.
Aimi was next up, and as she climbed she watched Elaina lower a second bucket into the sea. Accepting the offer of help at the top, Aimi finally found her feet back on the wooden decking of The Phoenix and marvelled at just how good it felt.
Alfer followed her up the ladder, and no sooner was the old veteran aboard than Elaina handed him her pack with an instruction to keep a close eye on it. The pirate captain picked up a bucket of water in each hand and walked up the nearest set of steps onto the poop deck, where she proceeded to strip off and throw her soiled clothes to the planks. Before long Elaina was stark naked, and more than a few of The Phoenix’s crew were giving her the ogling of a lifetime. Elaina ignored the attention and picked up a bucket of seawater and dumped it over her head. Aimi winced at the pang of jealousy she felt; the desire to be clean and in a new set of clothes was almost painful. As Elaina dumped the second bucket of water over her head, Pavel appeared carrying a fresh set of clothing.
Aimi turned away. Most of the expedition were up and lying on the deck; Smithe appeared over the railing and then turned to give Keelin a hand. The captain staggered to the centre of the main deck and leaned against the mast, closing his eyes against the torrent of questions that were fired his way.
“Where’s Feather?” Morley said, his voice booming over the din. “And Bronson, and Kebble?”
“Gone,” Keelin said without opening his eyes. “We’re all that made it back.”
“What about the treasure?” asked another of the crew. Aimi struggled to remember the man’s name, but she was too exhausted to put much effort into it.
“Jotin,” Keelin prompted.
Jotin groaned and rolled to his knees, reaching into his pack and pulling out the gold statue of Kebble’s forgotten god, dumping it onto the deck and collapsing beside it.
After a few moments the angry shouts started.
“That it?”
“We paid three lives for a hunk of gold?”
“Quiet!” Smithe roared over the arguing pirates. “Cap’n’s information was good. We found the damned city right where it was meant to be. Didn’t have time to properly loot the fucking place though on account of being attacked by some fucking… things that were wearing the skins of our own mates.”
Smithe pointed at the statue. “That there is all we managed to get. And be fucking glad we got that much, eh.” With that the quartermaster sank down onto the deck with the others.
Aimi si
ghed and forced herself to her feet, aiming for the captain’s cabin in the hopes of stripping out of her clothes and scrubbing her skin clean. Keelin caught up to her as she reached the door, Morley hot his heels.
“Are you aiming for sleep or a bath?” Keelin said with a weary smile.
“Both,” Aimi said. “Maybe the other way around though.”
“Maybe I’ll join you.”
“Wouldn’t you rather join Captain Black?” Aimi snapped, trying the handle only to find the door locked. She ground her teeth and stepped aside as Morley handed the key to the captain.
“What’s got into you lately?” Keelin said quietly. Morley stood close by, attempting to look like he wasn’t eavesdropping.
“You,” Aimi whispered back, “getting into her!” Aimi pointed towards Elaina, who was dumping another bucket of water over herself on the poop deck.
“What?”
“Don’t bother lying, Keelin. Back in the city, after we met up. I could smell her all over you.”
“Oh…” Keelin fitted the key into the lock and turned it. “I’m sorry.”
Aimi snorted and pushed the door open. “You want to know the worst bit about it?”
Keelin was silent.
Aimi struggled against her better judgement, still trying to decide whether to tell him or not. Eventually her weariness won out and she decided she simply didn’t care any more.
“I’m pregnant.” She stepped into the cabin and slammed the door in his face.
Part 4 – Dead Men Tell No Tales
Sacrifices will need to be made said the Oracle
Aye said Drake
They will all look to you to lead them said the Oracle
