Hush (Dragon Apocalypse)

by James Maxey

  Captain Romer interrupted. “This is all very interesting, but let’s focus on our immediate problem. Putting aside the issue of who’s to blame, the fact remains that we’re the only people in the world aware that there’s a shape-shifting ghost planning to murder the sun, armed with a weapon that makes her capable of the crime. How do we stop her?”

  “This doesn’t have to be our fight,” said Mako. “King Brightmoon and the Church of the Book know of the harpoon’s power.”

  “We’ve got the king’s daughter chained to a bunk down below,” said Rigger. “We can send her to ask for help.”

  His voice was so deadpan, I didn’t recognize this as a joke until Poppy giggled.

  Captain Romer sighed, rubbing her eyes. “Have we checked on the prisoners? Is everyone okay?”

  “Bumps and scrapes from being tossed around,” said Sage. “They’re fine.”

  Captain Romer nodded and looked around the ship. “Unchain the prisoners,” she said. “We’ve got an enormous amount of work to do to get this ship seaworthy again, starting with a bucket brigade to get the water out of the holds. Any prisoner willing to pitch in will be set free at the next port. Anyone not willing to help will be pointed toward the nearest island and allowed to make a swim for it.”

  “Even Brand and the dwarf?” Mako asked.

  Captain Romer nodded.

  “Maybe the dwarf really is Princess Innocent,” Poppy said.

  Mako rolled his eyes. “You’re as crazy as she is. He. As crazy as he is.”

  “We deal with crazy every day,” said Sage. “Having a long-missing princess hiding aboard our ship is almost mundane.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Rigger said, dismissively. “With the ship crippled, it could take weeks to deliver our so-called princess to her so-called father. Meanwhile every time the sun goes down, we’ll be wondering if it’s coming back up again.”

  “Infidel can fly her,” said Sage.

  “Um, no,” said Infidel. “I’m a wanted criminal in the Silver Isles. I’d never get near the king.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Gale. “The dwarf isn’t the princess. Next idea?”

  Infidel asked, “If we’re in the arctic, how far are we from Aurora’s village? The ice-ogres know more about the Jagged Heart than anyone. We can enlist their help in stopping Purity.”

  “We’re less than three hundred miles,” said Sage, looking up at the stars.

  “I could reach it in four or five hours, maybe,” said Infidel. “I can take Sorrow, since she speaks the lingo.”

  Sorrow shook her head. “I’ll be needed here. Wood-weaving is one of the material arts I’ve mastered. If this ship can be saved, my talents will come in handy.”

  “There is no ‘if,’” said Gale. “We will repair the Freewind.”

  “I’m not as confident,” said Sorrow. “I’ll do all I can to help, but look around you. Every board on this ship has been twisted. There’s not a nail or joint left flush. The Freewind may be beyond repair.”

  “Go with Infidel if that’s your attitude,” Gale grumbled.

  “I’m sorry if you’re wanting me to spout optimistic affirmations,” said Sorrow. “I’m simply being realistic. But if optimism is what you are looking for, have you considered that the loss of the Freewind might be a positive development for your family?”

  Gale’s brow furrowed.

  “The Freewind stands out in any harbor thanks to its burgundy hull. If you had a new ship, it would be harder for your enemies to spot you. You could have something like a normal life once more.”

  Jetsam laughed. “Normal? Have you paid any attention at all since you met us?”

  Infidel interrupted. “We’re getting sidetracked again. Who’s going with me to the ogre village?”

  Sorrow nodded toward me. “Take Stagger.”

  “I can’t talk,” I said, pointing at my mouth. Then I realized I’d heard my own words, albeit faintly. The warm breeze was drying out my tongue.

  I shrugged as I lowered my hand. “I don’t speak the language.”

  “I can work around this,” said Sorrow. She reached up and grabbed the right bean pod that served as my ear, popping it off. Oddly, despite its removal, the backdrop noise of wind and waves didn’t lesson.

  “You’ll be able to hear what this ear hears, no matter how far away you are,” she said, fastening the bean pod to her golden earring with a loop of silver. “And, if I listen closely, I’ll be able to hear what your other ear hears due to sympathetic vibrations. I can translate for you from afar.”

  “I want to be a witch when I grow up,” said Cinnamon.

  “You’re a witch now,” said Jetsam.

  “Can... uh, can Infidel support my weight?” I asked. Despite the drying breeze, I was waterlogged. Although it wasn’t my weight I was worried about; I knew she was still mad that I’d lied to her.

  Infidel nodded. “Once I’m in the air, the extra weight doesn’t really matter. Guess it’s one of the powers of the hammer I don’t really understand.” She wasn’t looking directly at me. “I’ll need to wait until dawn. I don’t know how to navigate via stars. In daylight, if I follow the coast line, I presume I’ll be able to find the village from above.”

  “You might be waiting a while,” said Rigger. “At this time of year, this far north, night lasts a long time.”

  “At winter solstice, the sun doesn’t rise at all,” said Sorrow, her voice trailing off.

  “That’s only a day away,” said Rigger.

  “Then that’s all the time we have to stop Purity,” said Sorrow.

  “How can you be sure?” asked Gale.

  “I can’t be,” said Sorrow. “But Hush is at her most powerful on the winter solstice. According to ice-ogre lore, Glorious, the sun dragon, is afraid to show his face on that day after months of being beaten back by Hush. When he does emerge the next day he’s helpless as a newborn babe as he rises into the Great Sea Above. He survives only because he’s so feeble that Hush pities him. Then he grows stronger and stronger, until he banishes the night completely. Only, he then takes pity on Hush for the pain he causes her, and in his moment of weakness, she once more begins to build her power.”

  “Ogre’s have stupid legends,” Mako grumbled.

  “Maybe. But their myths also serve as a cultural warning against feeling pity for an enemy. In any case, Purity seems devoid of that particular emotion. What better moment could there be for her to strike than the dawn following the solstice?”

  “If daylight’s so short, I guess there’s no point in waiting,” said Infidel. “That fox-cloak Purity showed up in looked pretty warm, if anyone knows where it is. I have a feeling I’ll need some good insulation once I get up in the air. Also a helmet, if there’s one lying around.”

  If I’d had eyebrows, they’d have shot up.

  “What?” she asked, sensing my surprise. “You think I can’t learn?”

  I shook my head.

  Infidel looked at Gale. “Since I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, I’ll carry fresh food and water for a week, if you can spare it.” She cast a glance toward me and managed, “I guess I should be grateful you don’t need to eat.”

  I nodded, relieved that she was at least speaking to me again.

  “I’ll get the cloak,” said Sage, heading for the hatch.

  “I’ll gather provisions,” said Cinnamon.

  “There’s still the question of how I’m going to find this place in the dark,” Infidel said.

  “I can find it,” I announced.

  “How?” Infidel sounded skeptical.

  “Living things give off an aura. A village should stand out like a torch against the backdrop of a frozen, lifeless landscape.”

  “Excellent,” said Captain Romer. “The two of you will be our primary plan to deal with this threat. I shall explore a second option.”

  “Which is?”

  “There are secrets we Wanderers do not share with outsiders,” said Captain Romer. “
Suffice it to say, there are channels of communication within the ocean that extend far beyond human senses. It’s possible I can get a message to... to my eldest son, Levi.”

  The Romer children’s eyes grew wide at this announcement.

  “Don’t give me that look,” Gale said.

  “He’ll betray us to the Stormguard,” said Mako.

  “No he won’t,” said Sage. “No matter what uniform he’s wearing, he’s still a Romer.”

  Gale nodded. “More importantly, his vessel is one of the few that could reach us in time to make a difference. The fate of the world might be at stake. If I have to swallow my pride and ask Levi for help, so be it.”

  “I like having a second plan,” said Infidel. “Anyone got a third?”

  Perhaps it was just a trick of the mind, brought on by one of my ears dangling against her cheek, but it sounded as if Sorrow started to speak. But her breath caught in her throat at the last second.

  “What?” I asked. “You have a plan?”

  “Not a plan, no,” said Sorrow. “Nothing so fully formed.”

  “An idea? A hunch? A gut feeling?” I prodded.

  Sorrow shook her head. “It’s nothing. Undertake your mission as if you’re the world’s last, best hope.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  BAD BLUBBER

  READYING OURSELVES FOR the journey took some time. I needed new clothes so that my inhuman body wouldn’t draw unwelcome attention, but even Mako’s muscular frame was no match for my own. His pants only came to mid-shin, but his boots were tall enough that it hid the difference. With a little stuffing, his boot even made my peg leg look like a foot again. His shirt wouldn’t go around my barrel chest. In the end, I wore it backward. Barrel staves were exposed on my back, but this was covered by a cape we made from old sails.

  Unfortunately, as soon as I was dressed, my left arm stopped working. Sorrow was summoned. She discovered the copper wire that held my shoulder joint together was corroded and brittle.

  “Sea water isn’t good for any metal,” she said as she fashioned me a new arm from a broken chair. “Even without your exposure to Rott you’d be falling apart.”

  “He’s been falling apart since the day I met him,” said Infidel.

  Which was true enough. She’d met me when I was thirty-five. I was at my physical peak, my body hardened by years of jungle explorations. Alas, the problem with being at one’s peak is there’s no where to go but down. In the next fifteen years, I’d lost hair, teeth, muscle... everything but weight.

  Sage had produced Purity’s white fox-cloak, which fit Infidel perfectly, and complemented her Immaculate Armor as if they’d been made for each other. One of the smaller Skelling helmets had been de-horned to fit beneath her hood. It was little more than a steel hat, offering no protection for her face, but it was better than nothing.

  Once she had fixed my arm, Sorrow took another Skelling helmet and stretched the metal to form a full faceplate, leaving only a gap for eyes. She placed this over my coconut noggin and wired it on. Sorrow produced a small silver mirror and I had to admit I passed as a human warrior, an intimidating one at that.

  “Now the ice-ogres won’t rip you apart for being an abomination against nature,” said Sorrow.

  “They’ll just rip me apart for being human,” I said. “Aurora made them sound a bit... isolationist.”

  “Ogres aren’t known for their propitious natures,” said Infidel.

  “Propitious?” I asked.

  “It means friendly,” she said.

  “I know what it means,” I said. “It’s just that you normally eschew magniloquence.”

  “I’m secure enough that I don’t need to flaunt my intelligence. You use big words because the monks who raised you made you feel like an idiot. You’ve spent the last forty years trying to prove that you’re smart.”

  “Ouch,” I said, wounded by the penetrating sharpness of her analysis. “I take it you’re still mad at me?”

  “I can’t understand why you didn’t back me up. If Gale had just left the Jagged Heart alone, everything would be okay now. Don’t you trust me?”

  Sorrow cleared her throat as she ran the last of the fresh copper wires through my new arm. “Perhaps this would be a conversation best carried out in private?”

  Infidel pressed her lips tightly together and nodded.

  Sorrow made a few adjustments on my new arm, then said, “Almost done. Pick up the sea chest so we can test your strength.”

  The chest was sitting on its side behind the door, where it had come to rest following the upheaval. I grabbed it with my fresh arm and manhandled it back to the foot of the bed.

  “Good as new,” I reported, but my words we almost drowned out by a low, slow, unearthly wail that came from the other side of the wall, where there should be only ocean.

  “What in the name of the primordial paper was that?” I asked.

  “Whale song,” said Infidel. “I first heard them during the Pirate Wars. The Wanderers try to keep it a secret from outsiders, but they understand the various whale languages.”

  “Whales talk?” I asked.

  “This must be the secret Captain Romer wouldn’t share with us,” said Sorrow. “Whale songs travel great distances. Wanderers use the whales to pass on messages, allowing ships hundreds of miles distant to communicate.”

  “So help could be on the way soon,” I said.

  “Highly unlikely,” said Sorrow. “In the summer, these waters are filled with fishing boats due to the abundance of cod. But during the winter, there’s little to attract ships to these latitudes. I’m doubtful there’s another Wanderer within a thousand miles.”

  As we talked, Sorrow shoved her hand-crafted sword into my belt. “I’ve been doing better with my fists,” I said.

  “Let’s hope the only tool you really need is your tongue,” she said. She gave me one last inspection. “You’re as good as you’re going to be. Fly safely.”

  We went above deck. Captain Romer gave Infidel a quick guide to the northern constellations. I noticed an odd shimmering haze in the sky. I slipped from my shell and saw the haze was rainbow colored, dancing about. I’d heard legends of the northern lights, but never expected to see them. They fluttered like an ethereal curtain draping the stars.

  “Beautiful,” I said, the second I’d returned to my body.

  “Yes, handsome?” said Infidel.

  If my mouth had been mobile I’d have smiled.

  THEN WE WERE aloft. The Freewind quickly became a mere speck amid a sea of specks. Icebergs were everywhere. I hoped the ship regained its maneuverability before it was menaced by one of these crushing behemoths.

  Once the ship was out of sight, it became impossible to guess how high we were. There were no familiar features with which to orient myself. The brightness of the Gloryhammer before us washed out most of the stars.

  “I’m going to step out,” I said.

  “What?” Infidel yelled back.

  “I’m going to step out of my body. I’ll be limp for a moment.”

  “Go,” she said.

  I once more leapt from the golden cage and out through the wooden staves, sailing freely into the frigid winds. It occurred to me that if Sorrow was listening to my words, it’s possible she now knew I could escape from her cage. She’d been treating me rather fairly since I’d given her the map to the Knight’s Castle, but would she try to cage me again? I’d deal with that if and when I saw her.

  I slowed, letting Infidel pass on. As the glow of the Gloryhammer faded into the distance, I saw that the curtains of light had dimmed, leaving behind stars of stunning crispness. Until now, I’d only seen the sky through the humid, gauzy air of my island home. Here, every last trace of moisture had frozen and dropped from the sky, leaving the stars fully exposed. I felt much the awe and wonder I’d experienced when, as a teen, I’d seen my first naked woman. I was glimpsing something ordinarily hidden from the eyes of man. I sensed that if I could understand what I was ga
zing upon, I would find wisdom.

  Of course, the main wisdom I gathered in studying the bodies of women in my youth was that any serious course of education was going to be expensive. But these stars, these stars... The Sacred Writs are full of tales of men who go into wastelands to find communion with the Divine Author. At this moment, I grasped why. The stars were so numerous that patterns emerged wherever I glanced, as if the celestial canvas was some immense manuscript that a man might one day learn to read.

  No wonder the ice-ogres thought of these starry reaches as heaven.

  Of course, I had resisted the call of heaven so far. I shook off my fascination and returned to the task at hand. Looking back, though it had been beyond the gaze of my wooden eyes, I could see the Freewind aglow like a distant star against the inky darkness of the sea. To the north and west, I could see the sea turning white in the distance. Flying higher, I saw that I was gazing at a shoreline, like the world’s smoothest, widest beach, formed of sand white as pure salt. But given the chill that numbed even my ghostly bones, I soon deduced I was looking not at sandy beaches, but at the edge of a vast, unbroken ice sheet.

  Infidel was flying along the edge of this ice sheet, looking like a shooting star in the distance. With a thought, I was back at her side, animating the driftwood golem once more. She sensed my return and asked, “See anything?”

  “The stars are amazing once you’re free of the glare of the Gloryhammer.”

  “Hmm,” she said. “You can’t see the stars right now?”

  “Not much.”

  “I see them fine,” she said. “In fact, now that I think about it, I never get blinded by the hammer’s glow. It must be one of those passive powers Sorrow talked about.”

  “I think I know another power of the hammer,” I said.

  “What?”

  “When you were at the Jawa Fruit village, Tower flew straight to you, and I remember him saying that he’d told the hammer to find you. So the hammer has some kind of ability to track people.”

  “If that’s true, why didn’t he find me years earlier? He’s had the hammer ever since I vanished, and was obsessed with me the whole time. Why didn’t he come looking for me?”