They didn’t seem to be fans of torches either. Fire was not a common underwater hazard, nor were bright lights. Waving the torch at them had even more effect than waving his weapon. They shied away from the flame, shielding their eyes. As the last dwarf cleared the ladder Thud tossed the torch at the squirming shapes and scurried up the ladder after, hoping the flame would delay them enough that he wouldn’t feel a clammy frog hand pawing at his legs as he climbed.
The top deck was a swirling mix of figures. The merfrogs were here as well, pouring out of the water, mixing into the struggling knots of dwarves, pirates and sailors. It was a two front battle for everyone with no actual fronts. Bows and crossbows had been cast aside in favor of maces. Durham was laying about with a club, making use of his city-guard experience. Catchpenny was next to him with the double swords that elves seemed so enamored with. The problem with two weapons as Thud saw it was it didn’t leave you a hand to scratch your nose. Rend was swinging his fist around, the shipwheel clutched in it acting as a set of oaken knuckles. Ween was using the giant’s legs as cover. He was jabbing with his mop, a spearhead affixed to the end.
Thud and his reinforcements drew up in a line and the non-amphibian combatants began rallying to them. The separate fronts were collapsing into a single common interest. The sides had shifted and the pirates were squaring up alongside them to defend against the frog attack. Rend held the center of the line. He was holding an old trap door in front of him as a shield to hold off anything that made it past his fistwheel. The wall of water in front of them seemed to teem with slippery darting shapes, more and more splashing out onto the deck.
“All you can eat frog legs tonight!” Thud yelled in an attempt at a rallying cry before immediately regretting it. Their somewhat humanoid aspect made that a disturbing thought. Hopefully everyone was understanding. Improvised battle cries were hit or miss affairs.
The wave of merfrogs arrived, croaking and jabbing.
Chapter Eighteen
The clearing below the ship was sporadically lit by small pools of firelight from flaming arrows in the sand and what was left of the zombie light brigade. Shapes moved through the light, glistening and green, leaping forward with horrible croaking noises. They swarmed the pirates still outside the ship, coral spears stabbing. Obiya was the exception. She stood, head bowed, arms folded, and rats swarmed to her from the shipwrecks. Rat zombies, some lurching and flopping, some skittering. They circled around her, snapping and biting at any frog that came close, threatening to swarm. Captain Larry stood at her side, sword out, poking threateningly at merfrogs as they came near but doing his best to stay clear of the zombrats.
The parrot had had enough.
Arrows, fire, lightning, giant frogs flying overhead and zombrats underfoot, a line had to be drawn somewhere.
It launched itself from Larry’s shoulder, making sure to dig deep with its claws for perfect traction. A feathered missile of fury with a beak like a hedge-trimmer. It made for the opening in the side of the ship. Obiya raised her arms, lifted her head and followed after in a brisk stride, as if the parrot were leading a charge. The mer scrambled to keep away from the space around her. The parrot barrel-rolled its way between a pair of wandering zombies and into the ship.
The battle in the lower decks had shifted like the others. Vanguard’s shield wall faced the water now and their defense was against the things from the sea. Most of the pirates were outside fighting the frogmen there but a few had lined up with the Dungeoneer Vanguard. Ginny was behind them, moving here and there to reinforce where needed, keeping an eye on the open flank. She stood alone. To the parrot’s mind she was the obvious target to vent its rage on.
The parrot’s wings spread to brake, its claws swung forward, aimed right at the nape of Ginny’s neck between shoulder pauldron and helmet.
There was an agonizing stab of pain in its leg. The parrot shrieked and shoved away from Ginny’s neck, wings flopping awkwardly to try and regain itself.
On her shoulder stood a pixie, thimble-helmet on his head, sword in hand, willy out.
Ginny was still trying to adjust from defending against frogs to defending against parrots. The merfrogs were pressing hard against the line and the parrot versus pixie combat happening on her shoulder was heating up.
She could be forgiven, perhaps, for letting her attention fall away from the opening in the side of the ship.
Raggins slipped in.
Raggins was not the sort to focus on combat. People got hurt in combat and Raggins didn’t want to get hurt, in simplest terms. Raggins was the sort that was objective focused. He remembered why they were here in the first place. Plus he had an advantage. A note, left tucked in the orange shell beneath the crossed masts on a pair of shipwrecks nearby.
He found the scribes where the note had said they’d be, in their nook beneath the stairs, watching the battle on the other side of the room. Both of them were writing in their journals. They looked up at his approach but did not pause in their writing.
Raggins had his sword out. It was a Mosacian cutlass, notched and scarred. Primarily from hacking at coconuts but it gave the blade a sinister look.
“Here for a book,” Raggins said. He inched forward, letting the tip of the blade waver back and forth in a manner he believed to be hypnotic.
“Books on basic hygiene are up a floor,” one of them said. The one in red.
He waved his sword at her. He’d heard you could brandish a sword as well but he wasn’t quite sure what that was. Some fancy Kordavian move, maybe. “You’re the scribes,” he said. “It’s an important book. You know where it is.”
The red scribe turned to the haggy one with the wild hair and the side-nose wart. “He knows we’re scribes and he goes pointing a sword at us.”
“Yes, we know the book,” the hag scribe said. She lifted a book from behind her. Raggins had been expecting they’d try to give him some other book first, banking on him not being able to read. Truth be told, it wasn’t his strong suit. He knew right away, however, that this was the book. It was big, weird and ugly. Exactly the sort of book a skull-faced witch lady was going to want. He was going to milk a lot of merits out of this.
“Um…thanks,” he said. He grabbed the book and ran.
“You just gave it to him?” Ruby asked. Her eyes were wide.
“What was your plan?” Aldine asked. “Fight him for it? He knew we had it.”
“We might as well have just handed it to Obiya earlier,” Ruby snapped. “We’re currently fighting for our lives over that book, or hadn’t you noticed?”
“And now we’re still alive to do something about it,” Aldine said. “That extra time allowed us to copy the last of it. We have the whole book recorded in our journals. Let the frogs and the pirates fight over it. We have what we need.”
***
The constant chorus of croaking was maddening. The top deck battle had gone badly but was now in a bit of a deadlock. Individually the frogmen weren’t much of a threat. They seemed unending, however. The open space of the deck made it too easy for the merfrogs to reinforce their numbers from the wall of the sea. It towered overhead. Thud wondered how many of them were in there. Hundreds? Thousands? The defenders had been pressed back, losing ground with every swing until retreating up the stairs to the sterncastle deck. The frogs avoided the chokepoints of the stairs leading up, choosing instead to leap at them over the rail. Defending the deck had become akin to stickball practice, defenders lining the deckrail, swinging whatever they had available to knock back flying frogmen. Thud had lost count of how many pokes and slices he’d taken from the ragged coral spears they kept jabbing with as they leapt. The spears had a tendency to shatter against their swords and hammers and the deck was littered with glittery chunks and grit. The frogs seemed to shrug off hammer blows with their rubbery bodies. Any of them that were wounded by sword or arrow simply retreated back into the sea, a fresh merfrog to replace them, eyes bulging, vocal sacs swelling horribly with each croak.
The throat bubbles made tempting but futile targets. Puncturing one caused it to deflate with a pleasing fart noise as well as silencing the frog’s croaking. Both positive outcomes but it didn’t seem to inconvenience the frogmen overly much. They’d simply retreat with the others, another one ready to replace them.
Thud heard a strange bugling cry from below decks. The sound of a horn that was meant to be blown underwater. The merfrogs on the deck instantly broke off their attack. They turned as one and leapt, their froggy legs sending them soaring over the railing to fall upon the clearing thirty feet below. Everyone ran to the deckrail to look down.
A small group of pirates were sprinting away from the ship, a parrot chasing after them. One of them carried something in his arms. A dozen merfrogs were in pursuit, the ones from the top deck landing amongst them and doubling their numbers. Their leaps were closing the distance quickly. Crossbow bolts chased after all of them from below decks. The pirates were running toward where Obiya stood alone in her circle of zombrats. She raised her arms and balls of crackling blue lightning streaked into the oncoming frogmen, sending gangly legged shapes pinwheeling through the air. Sparks flashed and zapped between their wet hides. More of the merfrogs appeared, leaping from the walls of the sea to either side of where Obiya stood. A reserve force attacking from the flank. It was a tactical maneuver beyond the ken of the zombrats. They parted eagerly to the sides, focusing on the newly arrived targets and leaving Obiya defenseless from the front, to the likely relief of not only the incoming merfrogs but the incoming pirates as well. Zombrats are ill-equipped, however, to deal with opponents that can leap twenty feet. The flankers sailed over the swarm, falling from the sky onto Obiya. She was not unprepared. They were met with a dome of sizzling light that crackled into existence as they dropped. The result reminded Thud quite a lot of popcorn. Only with frogs.
The attack had served its purpose, however. With Obiya’s attention diverted the fleeing pirates didn’t stand a chance. The remnants of the pursuing frogmen bore them down, leaping and landing hard on their backs, driving them down into the rocks and sand. The parrot wove between them, squawking shrilly. Thud realized he didn’t see Laughing Larry anywhere. The merfrog’s interest seemed to lay in the pirate that had been in the forefront, the one that had been carrying something. Thud had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what that was. They pinned him to the ground, spun him over and wrenched it away. Obiya screeched with rage behind them. Her attackers were repelled and her focus had returned to the prize. The merfrogs fled toward the seawall, one carrying the prize, the others carrying limp pirates over their shoulders. Their first leap carried it half the distance, their second aimed to vanish into the sea. They were met with a web of electricity across the surface of the wall as Obiya sent an arc into the water. The results were less dramatic than they’d been with her dome shield. The frogs hit the water and splashed through, perhaps killed or stunned by her last-ditch effort, perhaps not, but inaccessible all the same. She fired more bolts of searing blue light after them, the arcs hitting the water and sending waves of light crackling along the wall, making it flicker in deep blues and greens.
The merfrogs were gone. The lightning flickered and died, the last few sparks dancing briefly like fairies before vanishing. The scattered pools of firelight from torches and burning arrows seemed dim in comparison. Obiya stood, shoulders stiff, back rigid, light still shimmering at her fingertips. There was a long hushed moment as everyone on the battlefield watched in silence.
She turned, and was borne away into the mists by her horde of zombie rats.
At least, that was her likely intent. Being borne on a horde of zombie rats is more difficult than one might anticipate. She made it about four feet before falling over backwards. She struggled to get up, each attempt to put a stabilizing hand on the ground met with a rat determined to add its support. She scrambled over onto her knees, more rats scurrying under her knees to lift, sending her tumbling onto her stomach. She snapped an angry word out, reordering her horde. They did their best to stream away, a great deal of added lurching making the process difficult. Obiya scrambled to her feet, bits of crushed zombie rat decorating her robes. She strode angrily into the mist, only stumbling over a rat once before disappearing from view.
Thud gave a glance at the pirates on the top deck with him. They stood, swords lowered, giving each other uncertain glances.
“Well,” Thud said. “You can follow off after her if ya likes. I’m sure employment under her has been like a beautiful dream. Or you can head down below decks, help with clean-up and have an ale and a bowl of chowder waiting for ya after. I’ll leave that up to you. But if you raise them swords again we’re going to string ya from the yardarms. You can go ahead and just toss ‘em o'er by the hatch there. Maybe later we’ll let you have ‘em back if we decide we like the cut o’ yer gib.”
“I believe it’s ‘jib’, sir,” Leery said.
Ruby’s head popped up through the hatch as the pirates were tossing their swords into a clattering pile. Her eyes widened when she saw Thud.
“There you are!” she said, and climbed up.
“I knew that but thanks for remindin' me all the same,” Thud said. “Glad to see ya in one piece. How’s things below decks?”
“There’s good and bad,” Ruby said. “Thud, we lost the book.”
“Yeah, I’d kinda figgered that. What with the light show and all. Now I’m hopin' that you leading off with losing the book means no one’s been killed down there. Otherwise we may need to have a conversation ‘bout priorities.”
“My priority,” she said, “is the potentially world-ending book that we just watched disappear into the ocean as it was being carried off by a previously unknown race.” Her tone softened. “Apart from that, there were some injuries below but Doc is already seeing to them. Thud, they knew exactly where to go to get the book.”
Thud understood the concern in her statement. The pirates had arrived with inside information. Either someone was in contact with them or they had amazing scouts. He thought about the parrot. He hadn’t heard of a parrot that was any good for scouting but when there was magic afoot in the world one learned never to dismiss anything too easily. Swords that sang, wine goblets that healed wounds, mustache brushes that gave off an aroma of lavender. There were all manner of odd things in the world and a parrot that could relay the location of an object wasn’t that difficult to imagine. Was it more likely than a spy? Thud wasn’t sure.
“Well, we was expecting the pirates to take it. Didn’t expect them frogs though.”
“The ‘abominations’ that the merman spoke of. I can see how they might regard them that way.”
“I can see how anyone that weren’t half frog might regard them that way. Did you get as much as you’d hoped?”
“We’d already transcribed the entire thing,” Ruby said. “We’ve been more focused on translating. Aldine gave them the book without a fight. I’m sorry.”
Thud shook his head. “You ain’t combatants. We have the information from the book and we couldn’t have defended against that attack much longer. You two getting uselessly killed to delay them a few seconds in taking it wouldn’t have helped anything. Now, you just used the words ‘world-ending’ and I’d be curious to hear more along them lines.”
“I managed to finish enough of the translation that we’d been stuck on,” Ruby said. “You might want to sit down for this.”
“I’m a dwarf,” Thud said. “I’m close enough to sitting even when I’m standing. Out with it.”
“Gr'bl-Neb'gthrb is a name,” she said, or at least did her best approximation of saying it. “It’s some sort of demonic god-type thing that lives in a reality beyond ours.”
Thud’s face stayed carefully blank.
Ruby shrugged. “The Fae come from another world, the Daemon another still. This thing is from the spaces between those worlds. At least, according to the book. The whole thing reads like it was written amid a cloud of thappum sm
oke. Like the Fae and the Daemons, there’s a means to reach this place. The book is the key to it and I imagine was created in unison. It can either send Gr'bl back home or it can draw it through the rest of the way.”
“The rest of the way?”
“This is the part you might want to sit down for. Like the Daemon and the Fae, this thing has been working on coming through for a long time. This isn’t like a doorway. Imagine being in a dark place and seeing a distant light. You move toward it. Sometimes the light is gone and you stop. Sometimes the light is strong and you move faster. The closer you get, the more you move into the other world. The book is the means to make that light shine like a bonfire. It’s why the island has stabilized and stopped moving or disappearing. And we’re standing in it.”
“The island? Knew that part.”
“Yes. But more importantly, we’re standing in Gr'bl-Neb'gthrb.” She gestured around. “All of this. Gr'bl already exists enough in this world to displace the water around it but nothing else. These passages of water we’re in? It’s the actual thing. Limbs or tentacles or something, splayed out and about, branching off from each other. The darkness, the mist. It’s all an echo of its world and this whole sea-labyrinth an echo of one gargantuan thing that we don’t want to see any more of.”
Thud was looking around at the seawalls, eyes wide. Those long winding curves, the subtle rounding of the surfaces. He stroked his beard and wished he were sitting down.
“And the merfrogs?”
“It might very well be their book to begin with. They seem to be from the neighborhood. I believe they worship Gr’bl or are its servants in some way. This might be akin to some great religious victory for them. Obtaining and using that book is possibly something they’ve been waiting for for a very long time.”
“Religion. That just might answer a few questions.”
“How so?”
“That book didn’t get here by accident,” Thud said. “Someone worked hard to get it here and I think that Obiya lady was chasing after them. Someone on the crew of Katie’s Jigger. Mungo’s still trying to sort out who. Couldn’t figure how anyone could have gotten hooked up with working for frogmonsters. But if there’s some sort of cult out there that worships this thing then it starts piecing together. What exactly do you think they’re going to do with the book?”
The Dungeoneers: Blackfog Island Page 21
