Starspawn
Page 7
“Nothing here,” she heard Zuna call on the other side of the stone wall. It couldn’t be very thick—Zuna sounded like she was practically in Jendara’s ear.
Then Boruc shrieked. His lantern flew from his hand as something yanked him forward into the darkness.
“Boruc!” Jendara leaped forward and felt a strand of something slimy slap against her hand. She whipped her hand away.
Boruc’s lantern rolled in a half-circle on a shelf just above the water, and came to a stop at the base of some kind of quivering, rustling mound of greenery. A tendril shot out at Jendara and just missed her.
“Jendara!” Vorrin shouted somewhere in the darkness.
The wall beside Jendara seemed to wriggle. The musky smell grew stronger and her head spun. “Vorrin?” She squinted into the darkness beyond the mass of rippling seaweed. “Get out of there. Run!”
“Help … me,” Boruc gasped, his face appearing between the fronds of the slimy green creature.
She lunged to grab him but the creature wriggled aside, taking Boruc with it. Jendara skidded on the slimy floor, smashing against the wall. Her lantern crunched. Debris rained down around her. She covered her head with her arms and stumbled out of the rain of rock.
“Jendara!” Zuna shouted, and helped her to her feet. The wall between the rooms must have been thin and half-eroded for it to break so easily.
“Help Boruc!” Jendara shouted, pawing grit from her eyes. “Something grabbed him!”
Vorrin suddenly ran past Jendara, his eyes wide. A trickle of smoke followed him.
“Vorrin!” she shouted. But he ran past her as if deaf. She leaped to her feet. “Come back!”
He was already out in the hallway and Jendara charged after him, shouting for him. But Vorrin kept running deeper into the darkness. Jendara’s wet boots skidded on the slick bodies of dying mollusks. She couldn’t see a thing.
“Vorrin!” she shouted, but now she couldn’t even hear his footfalls. She was alone in the dark, and she couldn’t find the walls. Panic gripped her. Jendara forced herself to stop and think.
She shook her head, clearing it a little. At least that smell was gone. Her head felt strange from the stink of it. Even this seaweed-and-decaying-fish smell was better than that perfumed stench.
“Jendara!”
That sounded like Boruc’s voice. “I’m coming!” she called back. Boruc. By the gods, she was glad he was all right. The others must have freed him from that seaweed creature’s grasp.
The glow of a lantern appeared and she hurried toward it. “Boruc, are you all right?”
He coughed hard, waving a hand. Now that she was closer, she could see the purple welts around his neck and along his cheek. That seaweed creature had nearly strangled him. “Your lantern. When it broke, the thing caught fire and let me go.”
“But why did Vorrin run away?”
A pair of lanterns appeared. “Dara?” Tam called. “You see Glayn anywhere?”
He and Zuna stopped beside Boruc. Smoke and dirt smeared both their faces.
“Something green came out of the wall just before you did, and Glayn ran after it,” Zuna explained. “He looked strange, like he was under a spell or something.”
“And Vorrin—it was like he couldn’t hear me.” Jendara looked around the group. “Do you think that thing lured them both away?”
“I’ve heard stories of this happening,” Tam said slowly. “Things out at sea luring crews to their death with songs, or some kind of perfume.”
“The smell!” Jendara jabbed her finger at Boruc’s chest. “Did you smell something back there?”
“Yes … I think.”
Jendara shook her head. “We’ve got to find them. Even if that plant thing doesn’t strangle them, they could still get hurt in this place.” She turned to face the darkness beyond. “I think Vorrin went this way. Come on.”
* * *
They went in silence. Jendara took Boruc’s lamp and led them down the corridor, cursing herself every step. She had been so sure that the island would be empty, its previous inhabitants sluiced out to sea or turning to jerky in the dry air. These underground tunnels with their pockets of trapped water defied all her expectations of an island topped by a city of gold. She should have scouted it out better before she’d ever allowed her husband or her crew to explore the place.
Her thumb worried at the thick band of her wedding ring. Vorrin was gone, and it was her fault. If she’d followed her father’s rules, he’d still be here, but instead she’d let overconfidence and impatience get the better of her. She’d always been hotheaded. It was her worst trait.
They peered into every room they passed, but as they walked, the hallway took a slight corner and became even narrower, the doorways fewer and farther between. Most were closed, so overgrown it was nearly impossible to see them, let alone open them. The gloom and stench of dying shellfish was oppressive.
At least Sarni and Kran were back on the Milady, Jendara reminded herself. She didn’t have to worry about them.
“Hold up.” Tam caught her by the elbow and pointed up ahead. “There’s something shiny over there.” The usually cheerful man’s voice was tense.
Jendara moved closer. “It’s a lantern.” She picked it up and quickly lit it. “One of them must have dropped theirs.” She passed the spare back to Zuna.
“Oh no,” Zuna said, raising the lantern higher. “That looks bad.”
Just a few yards ahead, a neat square of darkness nearly filled the floor of the tunnel. A flagstone remained on either side of the pit, offering something like a safe path. It was as if the flagstones in the tunnel’s center had simply been removed.
A faint cry sounded from far below.
Jendara rushed forward, dropping onto her belly beside the pit. “Vorrin?”
She could feel cold strands of seaweed beneath her, and bits of the stuff dangled over the edge of the pit. Her arm hairs rose up in prickles. The smooth edges of the hole; the camouflaging weed. This wasn’t the work of time and water; someone had built this.
The voice and a flurry of splashing echoed in the darkness. Tam dropped to his hands and knees beside her. “Is it them?”
“I can’t tell.” She held out her lantern. Far below, the gold moon of its reflection played over a rippling pool.
“Dara!” Glayn’s voice sounded very faint.
“Let’s lower a torch,” Zuna suggested. “Get a better look down there.” She was already digging in her pack for supplies.
It was a good idea. Jendara smiled at the navigator. Maybe she had the stuff of an adventurer in her after all.
Jendara moved as close to the edge as she dared. “Are you all right? Is Vorrin down there?”
“We’re fine. We found a rock to climb up on.”
Jendara let out a breath. This far north, the water’s chill could kill, even in summer.
“There.” Zuna tied the last scrap of fabric around a bundle of candles and secured it to the line of rope she’d stashed in her pack. Then she tossed the makeshift torch over the side of the pit. It swung in a huge arc, its flickering flames lighting damp stone walls and, far below, a broad expanse of water. She lowered it slowly.
Jendara’s stomach gave a lurch. She had no idea how Vorrin or Glayn had survived that fall. The water below had to be nearly forty feet down. She didn’t like Vorrin’s silence, either.
“Is Vorrin okay?”
Glayn didn’t answer right away.
“Is Vorrin okay?”
“He’s knocked out,” Glayn admitted. “I can’t tell how bad it is.”
Jendara sat back on her heels, heart pounding, mind racing. “We’ve got to get them out of there.”
Boruc knelt down beside her. “We don’t have enough rope.” He kept his voice low. “We’ll need to make some kind of harness for Vorrin—he won’t be able to climb.”
“He’s right,” Zuna whispered. “We’re going to have to go back for supplies.”
Jendara stared at t
hem for a long second. “All right. You go ahead, I’ll stay here with them.”
Glayn heard that. “No!”
“Hey, we’re the rescue team,” she called. “You don’t get a say.”
“No,” he shouted again. “There are things up there. You can’t split up. We’ll be fine. You just hurry!”
“Things? What kind of things?” she asked, but no one answered. No one could.
Jendara scrubbed her palms over her face. The burst of energy she’d felt just moments ago was fading. The thought of leaving Vorrin and Glayn alone down there made her sick, but Glayn had a point. She had to protect her team if she was going to get Vorrin and Glayn out alive.
“We’ll be back soon,” she called. “We’ll leave the torch, okay?”
“Okay,” Glayn said. “Tam?”
“I’m here.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now shut up and stay alive so I can rescue you.”
Jendara picked up her lantern, biting her lip. Vorrin would be fine. It would only take a few minutes to get to the ship and back now that they knew the way.
Vorrin would be fine.
7
OF DEEP ONES AND DRY ONES
Zuna led them up the staircase, where they were all forced to slow. There was no running on these stairs with their awkwardly short risers. Their breathing rasped loudly in the narrow stairwell. It had been a long climb.
The sound of barking drew Jendara up short.
“Fylga,” Boruc whispered.
It had to be. Jendara’s heart sank. The dog sounded close at hand, perhaps in the purple boulevard.
“Why would they leave the ship?” Boruc spoke for them all.
Jendara freed her handaxe from her belt. “He wouldn’t disobey me out here, not once he heard about the ulat-kini. Let’s all be quiet.”
The barking increased in volume, the tone thin and unhappy. Jendara hoped the dog wasn’t badly hurt.
They crept out into the narrow hallway, and Jendara could see where it met the purple boulevard; a faint dimness lit the mouth of the hallway. Night had fallen while they’d explored the halls below, and they were no closer to leaving this island than they’d been when they first descended the stairs.
Fylga gave a frustrated growl. She had to be very close now.
Jendara waved for the group to stay back and then turned off her lantern. There was no telling what might be out there with the dog. She crept out into the boulevard, mindful of every step. The comforting bulk of a heap of rubble, probably one of the fallen kiosks, provided a bit of cover. From her right, the dog’s barking came again. She peered over the rubble.
Nothing moved. Fylga’s shape lay beside the biggest pool of water, her white patches bright in the gloom, but she was alone. Jendara darted toward the dog.
“Hey, girl,” she whispered, dropping down beside the animal. This close, she could see what she’d missed before: the fine strands of a net entangling the dog. Fylga wagged her tail and pushed her cold nose into Jendara’s palm. “I’ll get you out,” Jendara murmured. Where was Kran? Why wasn’t Fylga with him?
Boruc ran out from behind the pile of broken rock and joined Jendara. He pulled his lantern from the cover of his jacket, turned down low. Shielding the light, he held it above the dog. “She’s got a bad cut on this leg.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and bound it up quickly. “Where’s Kran?”
“I don’t know.” Jendara hissed. “He—” With a grunt, she hacked at the net. “Look, whatever caught Fylga could still be out here.”
A muffled shout from the direction of the Star Chapel underscored that thought. Jendara ripped the net off Fylga and the dog streaked toward the sound. Jendara raced after her.
A pallid twilight came from the doors of the Star Chapel, and Fylga ran straight into the room. Jendara had the presence of mind to stop and peer around the doorframe to take stock of the situation. She heard the heavy footfalls of her crew pounding behind her.
Three figures stood outlined against the windows, two of them the hulking fish-things she’d seen inside that structure on top of the city, the other slighter and shorter as it held off the first two with a nasty-looking trident. There was no sign of Kran, but Jendara readied her sword. She searched for Fylga.
A tiny sound came from the darkest corner of the room and she made out Fylga beside a shadowy humanoid shape.
Kran. Her son was in there.
Jendara charged.
Her blade bit into the largest fish creature’s neck before it even noticed her, slicing through the vertebrae to crunch into its collarbone. The blade stuck fast. The creature went rigid, and then, with a hollow gurgling, slid onto the floor, Jendara’s blade still trapped in its body. The second of the fish-folk spun to face her just as Tam stepped in, his sword slashing across its leathery face. Its eye spilled clear jelly, but it slashed at him as if it hadn’t noticed he’d ripped open its face. Tam ducked under the blow.
Then blood bubbled out of its mouth as the trident burst through its chest. Jendara pulled free her sword and pivoted toward the last of the fish-faced creatures.
Kran jumped out of the shadows behind the thing, and at the last second Jendara checked her blow before it connected with creature and boy. Tam smashed the thing in the face with his fist, and the slender creature crumpled.
Kran stared at it, mouth wide open.
Jendara pulled him to her chest. “You’re alive. You’re alive.”
Then she looked around. Her lungs felt suddenly as if someone were squeezing her ribs. “Where’s Sarni?”
Zuna turned up the flame in her lantern and looked around the Star Chapel. The dead bodies of the fish-folk lay sprawled in the main aisle, and the smaller creature—an ulat-kini, Jendara realized, and only small in comparison with the much more powerfully built, silvery fish-folk—still lay motionless at Tam’s feet, although it still breathed. Up close, Jendara could see the gills on its neck and faint fuzz of eyebrows over its almost-human eyes. It had to be one of the ulat-kini–human hybrids. Not that it made a difference, she reminded herself. It lived with the ulat-kini, and that made it an ulat-kini.
She looked away from the misshapen creature. Zuna’s lantern caught the golden constellations and made them dance, as if the sky itself reeled around them.
“There’s nobody else here,” Zuna said. “Sarni’s gone.”
* * *
Sarni was really gone. Back at the Milady, Jendara got the story out of Kran while the others worked. He had fallen asleep shortly after they’d left and awakened from terrible nightmares to find himself alone. He’d gone out looking for Sarni after searching the entire ship. But he hadn’t found any sign of her besides the lantern she’d left burning on the deck.
That detail made Jendara’s spirits sink lower. She’d left express orders to keep the ship dark and to stay below, hoping that darkness and silence would protect the pair from the notice of anything searching the cave. Sarni would never disobey one of Jendara’s orders—not unless an emergency called for it.
“Shit,” she said, rubbing her forehead. Her head hurt.
“I still don’t understand why we brought that thing back with us,” Zuna complained. “Tam and I’ve got it tied tight in the storage room, but I don’t like leaving it alone on the Milady.”
“Me, neither,” Jendara agreed, “but he’s not going anywhere, not if Tam tied him.” She shrugged. “Kran insists the ulat-kini saved him from those big fish things.”
“I guess we can turn it loose after we leave,” Zuna said. “I don’t even care if we get more gold. We should find the captain and get out of here.”
“It’s not that easy. We have to find Sarni, too.” Jendara got to her feet quickly. “I’m going to get a few things for Kran before we leave.”
“Kran?” Zuna’s black eyes flashed. “You’re not taking him with us, are you?”
“I’m not leaving him here. Something took Sarni right off this deck. He’s not safe.”
A foot scuff behind her made her spin around.
“Kran!” She smiled. “I was just getting you some gear. I’m not leaving you here after what happened to Sarni.”
He took a tentative step toward her. His face, twisted with worry, looked younger than usual. He reached for his slate. Sorry, he wrote.
“For sneaking on board? I know.”
He shook his head, moving his hand in a circle that indicated her, him, the ship, everything.
“Sarni going missing isn’t your fault.” She had a feeling he meant something more than that, but she wasn’t quite sure what.
He bit his lip, tapped his chalk on his slate a few times, then wrote: Dreamed it.
“You dreamed something took Sarni?”
Kran moved his free hand in a wriggling gesture, snakelike.
“It was just a dream, Kran. I didn’t find any scales or any sign that a sea snake got her—” He was shaking his head and already scribbling, so she broke off.
Octopus—squid? Had suckers.
She opened her mouth and closed it. Kran had barely been outside the galley. He hadn’t seen all the statues with tentacles, all the strange wriggling art. She didn’t like the fact that those images had somehow gotten into his dreams.
She sat back on her heels and tried a different tack. “Look, no one in our family has ever had any kind of prophetic dreams. I don’t know why you had bad dreams, but that’s all they were: dreams.” She ruffled his hair. “It’s a lot more likely that those fish-things took Sarni. And I’m not going to let them near you.”
Kran made a faint attempt at a smile, proof he wasn’t himself. Normally, an attempt to ruffle his hair resulted in a punch in the arm. He need a distraction, and fast.
Jendara pulled out a scabbard. “Can you get this on your belt?”
His mouth fell open as he recognized the shape. He patted his hand on his chest.
“Yes, you can use it. For now.” She slid the blade from the sheath, admiring its edge. This long seax had been her first husband’s go-to blade for close quarters, and his first masterwork weapon. “I gave it to your father as a wedding present.”