Mrythdom: Game of Time

by Jasper T. Scott

  “To search for Malgore.”

  “It would be more efficient to search for him from the air.”

  “Ah, but we require a vehicle to search below the waves, not skim over them.”

  Aurelius gaped at the wizard. “You have such vehicles in your time?”

  “Don't you?”

  “Of course, but—”

  “Not all the secrets of the elders have been lost.”

  * * *

  Gabrian led them through the bustling port, following the smell of fresh fish and the rising smoke from a dozen different fires. The passersby were a motley assortment of men and the occasional lumbering troll carrying a massive burden across his shoulders, but women and children were conspicuously absent. Aurelius suspected that said something about how dangerous the place was. They caught a few passing glances and stares. With Aurelius wearing his flight suit, complete with helmet tucked under his arm, and Reven, a hairy giant clothed in a glimmering silver thermal blanket, they were a conspicuous sight.

  Gabrian walked up to a large, lumpy-faced man with a scruffy blonde beard. He held a butcher's knife in one hand, and a giant fish in the other. As they watched, he positioned the one over the other and lopped off the fish's head with a heavy whomp of steel. He tossed the head in a bin and passed the fish down to another man for cleaning.

  “We'd like to purchase some fish,” Gabrian said.

  “How many?”

  “A dozen.”

  The fishmonger heaved a large wooden basket onto his table, took a few fish out, and then weighed it on a scale. “That will be ten silver.”

  Gabrian offered six, and the fishmonger began shaking his giant knife in the wizard's face. Gral stepped up to the table and offered a wicked smile, to which the fishmonger shrank back and counter-offered nine silver. Aurelius tuned out the haggling and looked around, absently wondering why Gabrian didn't just use magic to get the fish for free. Perhaps his conscience was getting the better of him.

  Aurelius watched the milling crowds a moment, his gaze passing over the surly-looking men. Almost all of them were armed with swords dangling from their belts or held wicked-looking harpoons in hand. They all wore their hair long, under elaborate, wide-brimmed hats, and all of them looked desperately in need of a shower and a shave.

  Then the crowd parted just long enough for Aurelius to see the odd one out. With a jolt of surprise, he realized that she was looking straight back at him. She was the most beautiful woman Aurelius had ever seen. Long black hair flowed like silk around a pale but flawless face with sharp angles and fine, delicate features. Her beauty was as alluring as it was exotic. She smiled, and suddenly he was no longer conscious of time passing; it could have been an instant or a decade. Then she turned and began walking away. He felt his heart sink. He'd chased her off with his bold staring! Then she threw a quick glance over her shoulder, catching his eye once more. She wanted him to follow her!

  He was sure of it.

  He felt his feet moving of their own accord, and he almost tripped over a rock in his hurry to catch up. He shoved through the crowds, oblivious to the annoyed looks he was drawing from those he recklessly pushed out of his way. Now she was just a few feet away.

  Suddenly a strong hand caught his shoulder and spun him around. He found himself blinking into a familiar pair of cold blue eyes.

  “Have a care, elder!” Gabrian said. Aurelius looked confused, so Gabrian slapped him across the cheek, and suddenly he snapped out of his daze with a scowl. Gabrian went on, shaking a withered finger in his face, “Not all that sparkles is worthy of your eye! This is not your world. For all you know, she could be a gremlin witch! She'd lure you to her bed and charm the very breath from your lungs, cackling as you drew your last.” Gabrian thrust a warm bundle of cloth into his hands. It smelled delicious. “Eat it while we walk.” With that, Gabrian stalked away.

  Aurelius followed, unwrapping the bundle to find a smoked fish within. He began picking at it with his hands, idly wondering what he had been thinking to follow that strange woman. He realized that he hadn't been thinking. Somehow just the sight of her and was all it had taken to compel him to follow. It wasn't at all like him to do something like that. Perhaps Gabrian was right about her being a witch. He shivered and pushed the dark thoughts from his mind.

  As he looked up from eating his fish, Aurelius noticed Gral and Reven walking on up ahead, fighting over a basket full of uncooked fish. They seemed to be competing with each other to see who could eat them the fastest. As he watched, Gral opened his massive jaws to swallow one of the fish whole. Reven snarled and stole another two fish from the bucket while Gral wasn't looking. He hid them in his makeshift robes and grinned wolfishly up at the troll.

  “Where are we going?” Aurelius called out.

  “To find a captain and a ship,” Gabrian called back.

  * * *

  It wasn't long before they were bargaining with a ship's captain to take them below the Misty Sea in search of “lost treasure” as Gabrian put it. The captain was a shifty-looking man with a thin black mustache and long dreadlocks draped over one shoulder. His sailor's hat was tilted at an odd angle and he wore not one but two swords dangling from his belt. His crew could be seen carrying crates to and from their vessel, a rusty, barrel-shaped submarine which lurked just below the surface. It was a large vessel, almost the size of Aurelius's own ship, but it didn't inspire much confidence, and Aurelius had more questions about how it might work than he cared to ask.

  “What be ye offerin’ for the use of me ship?” The captain demanded, snapping Aurelius out of his musings.

  “Four hundred silver now and a quarter of the treasure should we find it,” Gabrian replied.

  The captain licked his lips. “Ye 'ave that kind of wherewithwhatall on ye?”

  “Only a fool would travel with so much money. We'll bring it to you before we disembark.”

  “Well, very well then; ye have yerselves a deal!” the captain said and thrust his hand out. Gabrian reluctantly accepted the handshake.

  As they were walking back down the docks, Aurelius asked, “You have four hundred . . . silver?”

  “No.”

  “Then what—”

  “We'll have the money soon enough.”

  Gabrian led them down to a secluded part of the shore and then gestured to Gral to come forward. The old man pointed to the bucket of fish still dangling from the troll's hand. “Empty it.”

  The troll flipped it upside down and one small fish flopped out onto the sand. Between Gral and Reven they had already finished the rest.

  “Now fill it with sand,” Gabrian instructed.

  The troll scooped up half a bucket of sand and left it sitting on the beach. Gabrian shooed him away and loomed over the basket. Aurelius heard the old man muttering under his breath. Curious, he approached the basket. When he looked inside, he was startled to see it full of silver coins rather than sand. “How the . . .”

  Gabrian stepped back with a smile. “Yes. That should do it.”

  “You just turned sand into money!”

  “Indeed. Let us go pay our esteemed captain with it before it turns back to sand.”

  “It's not permanent?”

  The wizard shook his head. “To change one thing to another permanently would take far too much of my strength. A temporary solution will serve us just as well.”

  On the docks once more, they approached their illustrious captain, Captain Dagrell. Gabrian gestured to Gral and the troll dropped the bucket of coins at the captain's feet.

  “Well, well, well, what 'ave we 'ere?” The captain absently stroked his mustache as he studied the bucket full of money. He bent to dig a hand through it and brought out a fist full of coins. They trickled slowly through his fingers, plinking back into the bucket in a steady stream. “Seems ta be in order.” He snatched up the bucket and began limping down the dock to his ship. “Follow me!”

  They came to a short gangplank which crossed from the docks to t
he entrance of the submersible. The captain stopped and turned to them. “Yer troll will 'ave to join the rotor gang, only place big enough for ‘im.”

  “Rotor gang?” Aurelius asked.

  “That's fine,” Gabrian nodded. “Gral?” The old man pointed down to the aft of the ship where another much larger gangplank lay. “Go help with the rotors.”

  The troll thrust out his lower jaw in defiance, but said, “As the master command,” and obediently stomped away.

  Aurelius was last to descend the ladder into the submersible. He noted that Reven was forced to stand hunched over in the small confines of the vessel. The captain led them through a series of narrow corridors to the bridge. It was a large, airy space crowded with mechanical levers and a few hard wooden chairs bolted to the floor. At the front of the bridge was a large wooden wheel standing before a broad, bulbous window that gazed out into the murky water. The captain went to take his place at the wheel, but he just stood there with hands clasped behind his back, waiting. Another crewman hurried up to him a moment later and whispered something in his ear. At that, the captain turned. “T'would seem we're ready to cast off. Be ye all ready?”

  “Yeah, let's see how this thing floats, or sinks, or whatever it does,” Aurelius said, grimacing as he looked around at the rusting rivets and bolts.

  “Oh she'll sink an' float jus' fine.” The captain turned back to the fore and pulled one of the levers beside the wheel. A mechanical groan issued underfoot and something slotted into place, but nothing happened.

  Then, suddenly the ship jolted and began sliding backward. Aurelius saw through the bulbous front window the mossy pillars of the dock crawling past them one after another in a long parade. Then they were free of the docks and there was nothing but a murky blue.

  The captain shouted into a pipe which rose from the other side of his wheel. “Comin' about!” And with that, he rolled the wheel in a quick circle. Their view changed from the deep, murky blue of the sea to the barnacle covered keel of a large wooden vessel that had been berthed beside them. The barnacles were glowing brightly in shades of green and red. The captain kept turning the wheel until all they could see was water. He threw another lever and again there came a mechanical groan. Now they began moving slowly forward. Aurelius frowned, wondering what sort of propulsion system the ship had. He didn't hear or feel the telltale vibrations of an engine, nor had he seen anything to suggest that level of technology in this time.

  They were gradually picking up speed. The others took their seats, but Aurelius walked up to the bulbous window. He tapped it experimentally with one finger. It seemed solid enough. He stood there a moment longer, peering out into the murky water. “How are we supposed to find anything like this? It's too dark.”

  “Ye think?” The captain asked with a grin full of missing teeth. He yanked another lever, there came another clank of metal, and suddenly the water was illuminated by twin beams of orange light.

  “What?” Aurelius blinked. “You have electricity?”

  “Electry-what?” The captain echoed.

  Aurelius waved vaguely to the windows. “Your bow lights. How do they work?”

  “Ahh, that be a mystery kept by the barnacles 'emselves, laddie. Them an' the creator that made 'em.”

  “The barnacles?”

  “Ay, they be among the great many glowy things that lurk below the waters of the Misty Sea.”

  Aurelius turned back to watch their progress. The bow lights helped, but so far there was nothing to see.

  “May I see yer map?” the captain asked, throwing an expectant look over his shoulder. “Ye do 'ave a map, don't ye?”

  To Aurelius's surprise Gabrian answered, “Of course,” and stepped forward with an old scroll. The captain unrolled the scroll and studied it carefully. Aurelius stepped up to look over his shoulder. The crudely drawn lines and figures marked upon the map didn't seem like much to navigate by. “I suppose that little X 'ere is where we're a-headed?” The captain snorted and passed the scroll back. “Not so very specific, ey? Ye do know that we canna reach the bottom that far out.”

  Gabrian hesitated and narrowed his eyes before giving the captain a careful reply. “We won't have to.” Gabrian replied.

  “Well, ye jus holler when ye think ye ‘ave reached the spot. It be none of my affair if ye wish to waste yer silver a-searchin' for treasure that canna be reached. By my reckon we've abouts an hour before we reach the spot. Ye may as well get yerselves comfortable.”

  “I’ll be sure to do exactly that,” Gabrian replied.

  Aurelius watched the exchange with suspiciously-narrowed eyes. Of course the treasure they were seeking didn’t exist. They were looking for the relic, and there was no map to find that. Where Gabrian had managed to find that fake map on such short notice was a mystery to him.

  Aurelius frowned and started back to the banks of empty seating on the bridge. There didn't seem much to do other than wait, although, he was still curious about how the submersible functioned. He turned back to the captain. “Would you mind if we looked around your ship?”

  “I don' see why not, but don' be touchin' anythin’.”

  “Thanks.” With that, Aurelius started off. Gabrian gave him a stern look before he left, but made no move to follow. Reven likewise seemed content to stay put. Aurelius shrugged to himself as he passed down the narrow corridor from the bridge to the rest of the ship. They probably had the right idea. There couldn't be much to the workings of such a primitive vessel. So far everything seemed to be purely mechanical, though that left a big question mark where the propulsion system should be. Aurelius resolved to solve that mystery first and pay Gral a visit while he was at it.

  * * *

  As Aurelius paced down the narrow corridors of the ship, the first thing he noticed was the pale green light filling the corridor. He looked up to see strange ball-shaped lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Inside were crusty growths. Barnacles.

  Fascinating.

  A sudden groan drew his attention to the hull, and from then on he kept an eye on the rusting rivets and bolts as though they might explode inward at any moment. It didn't seem like the vessel should be watertight, yet it was. He wondered about the size, too. How could such a large ship propel itself without power? Aurelius passed only a few crewmen on his way aft. There were numerous doors leading off the corridor, but he didn't distract himself by trying to open any of them. Finally, he came to the end of the corridor, and he was confronted by a sealed bulkhead. The sound of guttural shouts came echoing through the rusty door.

  Aurelius tried the handle and found it unlocked. The door swung open with a groan and he stepped into a broad, high-ceilinged chamber that smelled like sweat and garbage. Four trolls stood shoulder to shoulder on a hand-cranked axle, while Gral sat on a bench to one side, watching the team with arms crossed over his massive chest. The troll nearest the door was barking commands to the other three, keeping them working in perfect synchrony. They were all working to turn the massive crankshaft which ran through the center of the room.

  Now Aurelius understood why the vessel was so large. It had to be to accommodate so many trolls. The engine room must have been fully half the length of the ship.

  Also in the engine room were a few more crank shafts protruding from the walls. Aurelius guessed that at least some of them would operate the pumps for the ballast tanks.

  “Remarkable,” Aurelius whispered.

  The master of the rotor gang looked up. His leathery gray skin was beaded with sweat. “What you doing here?” he asked, just noticing Aurelius.

  “Sorry, I was curious as to how this submersible propels itself. Now I see. Impressive,” he said, nodding.

  The troll grunted, but gave no reply.

  Gral caught Aurelius's eye and shook his massive head. “Gral not like this. Not like at all.”

  “Don't worry. I think we'll be there soon,” Aurelius said.

  Gral jerked his head toward the rotor gang. “These trolls not work fo
r pay. Work for filthy human master.”

  “Slaves?” Aurelius asked.

  Gral spat, and a giant green splotch of phlegm appeared on the grimy deck at his feet. He gave no reply.

  Aurelius nodded. “I'll talk to the captain. Maybe there's something we can do for them.”

  Now the master of the rotor gang looked up once more, his lips peeled back from his yellow teeth in a snarl. “Human stay out of troll business.”

  Aurelius ignored the rotor gang and spoke again to Gral. “Maybe Gabrian could use some more trolls?”

  Gral snorted. “Trade one master for other.” He shook his head.

  Aurelius hesitated in the doorway, then he heard an echoing command boom into the engine room from somewhere just behind him.

  “Take us below!” came a distorted version of the captain's voice.

  Aurelius's eyes were drawn up to a megaphone-shaped pipe protruding from the doorframe above his head. Then he turned to watch as two of the trolls on the crankshaft abandoned their places and took up positions one on either side of the room, each manning another two hand cranks. They began turning them, and Aurelius felt the submersible shift its momentum, slowly sinking below the waves. He stayed there a moment, watching the trolls work before he turned away and shut the door behind them. As he walked back to the bridge he heard the metallic shell of the submersible groaning and grumbling from the strain of increasing water pressure. He cast a worried glance toward the ceiling. The vessel was a remarkable feat of engineering, but it didn't inspire much confidence. He wondered how many tons of water now lay above their heads. From the tilt of the deck, it seemed they were descending quickly.

  He reached the bridge to see Gabrian standing up by the bulbous viewport, pointing the way for captain Dagrell, who was steering them into deeper and bluer water. Aurelius walked up to the viewport to watch their progress. The sandy bottom of the sea was illuminated by their bow lights, but it was falling away sharply beneath them and they were following it down. Aurelius cast a glance to Gabrian and saw that the old wizard's brow was knitted in fierce concentration.