by Heath Pfaff
The massive dark pits, those holes in the creature's head that seemed to take the place of its eyes, were like voids staring into me as I gazed upon the ruin that was devouring the ship Telistera had built. I was transfixed, but only for a second, and then I tore my attention free and made my way to the starboard railing. I looked over.
The distance to the water below seemed immense from on high, but I did not hesitate. I tossed one of the rope ladders over the side and plunged downward, using the rope only so much as I needed to keep myself from impacting the water with dangerous force. That salty water was bitter cold as it touched my body. It was the sort of chill that reached directly through your skin and into the muscle below. I knew, should I survive, I would be hard pressed to shake that frost from my bones. I took a breath and plunged beneath the surface. The water, where it was touched by the sun, was clear and bright, though it descended forever downward, into a darkness so absolute, that it was impossible not to feel intimidated by the immensity. Was there any end to that pit? I wasn't certain.
I ignored the abyss, and dragged myself along the bottom of the ship, using my clawed hand and feet to make progress. It was slow going, despite my best attempt to propel myself forward with haste. I tried to use my body's uncanny speed, but it did not work right under the water. The friction of the water around me made my movements imprecise, and wasted a lot of energy. With practice I might master it, but I hoped my actions would need never be repeated. By the time I reached the cannon, I was already growing concerned about my ability to hold my breath. How long had I been under? Maybe a minute, certainly no more than that, and a good deal of it wasted scrambling and trying to figure out how best to move. It was surprising how long so short a time could seem.
I found the first of the four pins quickly enough, and set to work on removing it. It was one of the pins that locked the cannon into place under the ship, so that it couldn't swing out while in dock and snag on the relatively shallow ground below. It was stuck tight, and I had to leverage my entire body against the ship to pull it free. The ship shook and groaned while I worked, a protest at the abuse wrought by its attacker. I looked toward the port side once, and saw the massive form of the beast from below, its white-gray belly stretching out until it was consumed by the relative murkiness of the water. I did not look that direction again. If it had been terrifying to see from above, it was more so in the world below the water. I was in the creature's domain.
The first pin came free, my lungs were beginning to burn. I realized, with distress, that I would need to go up for air before I took out another pin. I didn't want to, but my heart was beginning to pound heavily in my ears, and I could feel a sense of panic welling up inside of me. I reached for the edge of the cannon mount, and was about to pull myself across the ship when something grabbed my ankle and tugged downwards.
In my surprise and terror, I lost my grip on the ship. Before I was even certain what was happening, I felt myself being dragged into the icy depths. I looked down. There was a strange fish-like animal below me, with black eyes and a fierce mouth full of sharp teeth. It looked like a natural denizen of the sea, larger than a man, a body with fins and a powerful tail, fins that were pointed and lethal looking, but the creature had arms, or at least some semblance of arms, at its sides, below its side flukes. It had grabbed a hold of my leg with one of its pincered hands, and was carrying me into the waiting black below.
I tried to pull my leg away, but the creature's grip did not give. My lungs were burning even worse. In desperation I drew my dagger and dived at the fish-man thing. It took no notice of my struggling, at least until the moment my knife pierced its head. I drove the blade in with all the force I could muster, and its foul black eyes rolled back in its head. Its mouth, full of sharp little teeth gaped open, but it did not release its grip. Its body was floating downward, and it was taking me with it. I tried to swim away, but it was too heavy, even in the water.
There was a fire burning in my chest.
I swung downward with all of my might, hacking at the beast's clawed appendage again and again. Each stroke of my blade stole more air from my lungs. The world was growing dim before my eyes. Three more pins. I had three more pins to free.
In the darkness there were spots of color.
Panic.
I gashed at my dead tormentor's arm again and again, striking my leg once in my mad dash to free myself. Then, as suddenly as it had grabbed me, the thing's weight was gone. It was too late. I couldn't control the impulse overwhelming me any longer. I felt my mouth open, and I breathed in hard, taking in a mouthful, then a lung-full, of the briny green liquid.
Something peculiar happened then. I should have died, but I didn't. I felt the pain in my chest lessen, and the burning began to flee. The colored spots fled from my vision, and then the darkness. I found myself sucking in another lung full of water, and pushing it out. It was difficult to do, but for some reason there was air in the water. My lungs were drawing air where there shouldn't be any. I was as a fish, drawing air from the cold brine. Without knowing why, I was suddenly certain that this was another aspect of my body's unusual ability to adapt to hostile environments. Certainly no other had ever experienced such a rapid change, but how else could I explain my ability to breathe water? I swam back to the ship cannon, and set to work on the next of the three remaining pins. I couldn't be certain what incredible break in fortune was allowing me to survive when I should certainly have died, but I would not let such good luck go to waste.
I had to use my knife to pry the second pin free, and the next one. I finally came to the last. It seemed as though I had been under water for hours, but I knew it was probably closer to four or five minutes. For the ship, being torn apart by the great monster of the sea, it might as well have been hours. The last pin was the hardest to reach. I was forced to wedge myself behind the cannon to find a grip on it, and when I finally did get a hold, it was difficult to get leverage to pull the pin out. I pulled with all the strength I could muster, and was rewarded. The final pin came free in my hand. I tucked it into my belt-pack with the others, and pulled out my knife.
I hammered on the barrel of the cannon three times to signal Telistera that it was time to fire, and turned to flee back towards the starboard side of the ship. The cannon was already turning to fire at our gigantic attacker. Something grabbed my ankle. I looked down. It was another of those monsters, like the one I'd just killed. Again it started to drag me downward, slowly. I twisted my grip on my knife, and swung to attack it. Time was counting down. How long before they fired the cannon? Would I be far enough away when it happened? I struck out at the fish-creature, and felt a hand grab at my hair. I twisted in the water and came face to face with another of the wretched beasts. Its mouth was agape, its black eyes, dark and soulless, bore into my face with obvious hunger. I struck out violently, my knife tearing through the creatures head. A gout of blood filled the water, and that creature jerked, spasming, and releasing my hair in the process. It drifted downward and away. The other creature, having seen what just transpired, tugged harder at my leg.
I began to bend down to strike at it. A ripple passed through the water around me. Time, how much time was left? Pressure hit me, a force so strong that everything in the world rippled and distorted, and then a dull rumble was everywhere. The entire sea about me seemed to be groaning and throbbing. My ears rang, and then I was struck by a devastating force of pressure and everything fell away from me.
I struggled to remain conscious, but there was no way I could do so. I felt myself being pushed through the water, as though thrown through the air, and then there was nothing but the absolute darkness of the great abyss. My last thought, before total blackness consumed all thought, was that I had fallen to the bottom of the sea, and I would never return from that great darkness.
There was a light in the darkness, and in front of that light was the hulking form of a Fell Beast, a dark outline against the brightness of the glow beyond. It stood over me, ba
ck turned away. A single arm stretched out from its right side. Its left shoulder terminated abruptly, as did mine. As I stirred, it turned to me and I caught a glint of a circle of bright red fur on its wrist.
"I'm dead." I said, my voice a rasp.
"Not yet." A growling reply came, and then the illusion shattered, and I felt burning pain from all over my body. The form of the Fell Beast vanished, and was replaced by the face of Snow, leaning over me, her features framed by the dim light of a torch.
"He's awake." I heard her say, though her voice was almost blocked out by a loud ringing in both of my ears. I heard movement from somewhere else, and I turned to look. There were others in the room, but one of the shapes, blurry and indistinct to my eyes, got up and left as I struggled to make sense of what was happening about me. Through the ringing hiss in my ears, I heard the door shut behind whoever had departed. A hand on my shoulder brought my eyes back to Snow. There was a look of relief on her features, unshed tears behind the pink-tinged windows to her soul. I didn't understand her. She had betrayed me to a situation that could have killed me, but there she stood, her features tortured by worry.
"How do you feel?" It was Silver who spoke, though I couldn't immediately see her. Things beyond my immediate vicinity were blurry, difficult to make out.
"I hurt . . . ears are ringing . . . vision blurry." I said. I found that my voice was raspy, so dry that it felt like it was cutting my throat as I spoke.
Silver moved into my line of sight. She looked tired.
"When we found you, we thought you were dead. The impact wave from the cannon threw you a good way out to sea. You were floating face down in the water. When we pulled you aboard, and discovered that you were alive, there was so little of you undamaged, that we were certain you would be dead within the day. Here we are, less than a single day later, and you're already awake." Silver said, shrugging as if she couldn't make any sense of it, and didn't wish to try.
At her words, the events leading up to my injuries came back clearly, and I sat upright in bed, my head spun as I did, and I almost collapsed back into the pillows and blankets from which I'd just risen.
"The ship? What's the situation?" I asked, my voice no better than it had been. The ringing intensified as I sat up. I could feel my body burning, parts of me healing that I had not even known I could damage.
"The beast is gone. The wind recovered while we were making repairs. We're underway again, though patching and pumping are ongoing. Most of our emergency supplies for repairing the ship are used, especially tar and wood braces. We're still taking on water slowly in some parts of the hull, but we've assigned teams of men to work the pumps to keep the water out. As long as we keep our eyes on the problem, we should be able to manage it." It was Snow who answered me this time. I did not meet her eyes.
Someone handed me a glass of water, and I took it, looking up to see the face of whoever had done so. My hand nearly froze halfway to the cup. It was Liet, his fierce eyes, not as fierce as they generally were.
"Thank you, Liet." I said, taking the cup from the black cloak. He nodded his head, but did not reply. Liet should have either been on duty, or back in his quarters. As one of the Brigade, it was not normal behavior for him to worry about my injuries, even if I was his king. However, I found myself pleased that he was there. There was one face that was not among those around. One that I had expected, and that I wanted to see above all others. My vision was slowly clearing, but Malice was not in the room from what I could tell. I remembered my last words with her the day before, and winced.
"You should keep resting. You're not fully healed yet." It was Silver's voice. She had been trained in battlefield medicine. She was the closest thing to a healer our ship had. I downed my glass of water in a single heavy swallow, feeling the rejuvenating liquid course through my system. I placed the cup on the table at the side of my bed. I swung my feet out over the edge of the bed and stood up, though everyone watching seemed to wince as I did so.
"I've rested too long already. I want to see the damage to the ship myself." My legs felt a little shaky, so I stepped lightly as I moved, making sure each foot was well planted before moving the next.
"As the ship's healer . . ." Silver began, but I cut her off.
"You are well qualified to give advice, but I am far from the normal patient, Silver. I heal better on my feet." I used a tone of voice that had an edge of command to it.
Silver shook her head. "Ethaniel was right. You really are a damned fool." She smiled, and that took the sting out of her words. I couldn't count the number of times I'd heard that exact phrase from the first Knight. I noted that he was not present, but was not surprised. He had other business to manage. Really, of those who'd gathered; Snow, Silver, Liet and Tower, only Silver needed to be there.
"How is the crew?" I asked, perhaps belatedly. I didn't think anyone had died, but then I couldn't know for certain.
"The crew is fine. You were the only person to suffer any injuries during the attack."
". . . we killed the beast?" I queried with uncertainty.
All faces looked uneasy at that question.
Liet answered. "It lives. Injured, scared it away. Silver-eyed woman says it would come again, but the winds will carry us beyond it." His voice was gruff, but his answer was well expressed.
I looked at him for a moment. We'd all seen the changes in the black cloaks, but never had they been so clear. All pretense of what they'd been before seemed gone. If the Black Patch Brigade had been keeping it to themselves that they were changing, Liet was quickly dispelling any such deception.
"Let us hope, then, that the winds do not waver again." The ringing in my ears was beginning to fade, and I could hear the creaking of the ship underway. It was a comforting sound.
"What should I see first?" I asked Silver.
"There is very little that needs your personal attention, Noble. The repairs are mostly finished, and the ship is sailing as normal. Personally viewing the repairs will not make them hold any better." She answered. I knew her words were true, but I felt that I had not done my part to help the ship recover from the damage. While the others had worked, I had slept. That grated on me.
"Perhaps it would do well by the crew to see you up and about." Silver said, after a short pause. "We can start with the bottom deck. Repairs are still going on there. We'll work our way up to the upper deck from there, but if you get tired, or need to rest, make sure you let me know."
I smiled, though the expression was far from heartfelt. "I'll be fine."
Silver looked skeptical.
Snow seemed about on the verge to say something, but I turned my back to her and walked out of the room. Silver followed me out, and then took the lead. I stepped into place behind her, happy to let her play the guide. My thoughts were a mess, and my body ached and burned as it righted itself.
I was not treating Snow fairly. Or was I? She had betrayed me. It wasn't her betrayal that hurt. It was that it was her who had committed the betrayal. I trusted so few as much as I had her, and so her betrayal was much harder for me to overcome. I wanted to be able to accept her again, but every time I looked at her, I felt resentment. Would I ever see her as I once had? I wasn't certain that was possible.
Malice's absence wore heavily upon me as well. I should have been overjoyed to have survived the great monster's attack, and that the ship had withstood, and that all the crew were well. Instead, I felt as empty as I ever had. Perhaps she had been busy. There was much to do aboard ship, and if Malice was on duty, then she would have had to work instead of sitting at my bedside. I knew that wasn't true. Malice did as she pleased, responsibilities be damned. Really, why should I expect her to stay at my bedside anyway? It wasn't as though I owned her. She was free to do as she wanted. Certainly I had not been the most loyal to her over the years. I'd had my nights with Snow.
It might be better for her to move on beyond me. Certainly I had not made the lives of my friends and supporters any easier over the y
ears. All of these thoughts did nothing to lessen the pain that welled up inside of me. My physical hurts seemed as nothing to the emotional turmoil that churned within.
I just wanted my life back. I wanted my cabin in the woods, with Malice, and Kaylien, and Wisp. Poor Wisp. She was gone forever, another friend burned up in the flame that was my existence. I wore too many deaths about my shoulders. The weight of them all was greater than any other burden I had to carry.
My only hope for salvation, the only chance I had left to reclaim some semblance of my life, lay yet ahead of me. I needed to find Kay, and be the father to her that I should have always been. How old would she be when I finally found her again? Fourteen, fifteen...old enough to marry in some places. Too much time had been lost.
My vision sharpened to perfection, and the ringing fled from my ears. I would carry on. When I finally found Kay, at least I could tell her that I had never given up. I had spent every moment since she'd been taken, trying to find her and bring her home. I hoped that would be enough to help heal the rift that time had opened up between us. I feared it would not.
The damages had been far worse than I'd imagined. Snow had not over estimated the situation. Our repair supplies were critically low, and our ship still had problems. The sails had been entirely replaced. Much of the rope used for tensioning and control had needed to be completely thrown away and refitted. The hull had taken extensive patching. We would not be able to survive another barrage of such damage. On top of all of the damage, we only had two more shots for the sinker cannon.
Telistera's ship was an amazing testament to ship crafting. That it had survived for so long against a beast of such terrible immensity and power, was proof of the silver-eyed woman's design choices. That we all still lived was yet another proof. It was difficult to find joy in those facts, however, when I considered that more than half of our journey still lay ahead of us. A dark mood settled over me.
