by Conrad Mason
‘To me!’ shouted the other troll twin, and Joseph, Tabitha and Hal scurried to the edge of the poop deck and dropped down onto the upper deck.
Phineus Clagg was hunkered down behind the wheel, his podgy face pale. He had stopped chewing now.
‘This is the Sharkbane,’ he muttered to no one in particular. ‘Fastest ship in the Ebony Ocean …’
A few of the smugglers were returning fire with pistols, blunderbusses and crossbows. One caught a musket ball in the arm and whirled away, growling with pain. Joseph hurried onwards. The watchmen were gathering by the mainmast, while Clagg’s crew milled around them.
‘We’ve got to stop the butchers from boarding,’ said Paddy.
‘Soon as we let them onto our ship, it’s over,’ added Frank.
‘So we’ll split up, help the smugglers fight them off. Joseph and Tabs, we’ll stay on the port side. Frank and Hal – you take the starboard.’
There were nods, and the watchmen dispersed, positioning themselves to repel boarders. Joseph hadn’t known the troll twins for long, but even he could see that they didn’t rate their chances. He lifted his cutlass and told himself he was ready for anything. He didn’t believe it though. What good was a sword against musket balls and cannon fire? The thought made him feel faint. He staggered and grabbed the gunwale to steady himself.
The Last Redemption was edging up, closer and closer.
‘Don’t worry,’ said a voice to his left. He turned to see Tabitha watching him, doing her best to smile. ‘We’ll get through this. Somehow we’ll—’
The Sharkbane jolted, throwing them both off balance. There was a beating and a flapping from overhead, and Joseph looked up to see the ship’s sails hanging loose from their yards, as if the wind had gone out of them.
A low, grinding noise rose up from below his feet, and the deck shuddered. Joseph gripped the gunwale tighter.
What in all the sea … ?
‘Hey, Cap’n Cuttlefish,’ Frank shouted. ‘What’s happening?’ But Phineus Clagg had gone as white as the sails above. His mouth hung open and his tobacco dropped onto the deck.
The grinding grew louder, and with a lurch of his stomach Joseph realized what was happening.
‘Sinking!’ he yelled. ‘We’re sinking!’
He leaned over the gunwale and saw the waves bubbling up to meet him.
Cannons flashed on the Last Redemption, and a rolling symphony of booms rang out as the cannonballs hurtled towards them.
‘Down!’ barked Tabitha.
Joseph had no time to duck. But the Sharkbane was lower in the water than it had been a few seconds ago, and the cannonballs just tore through the sails, shredding the canvas.
Clagg found his voice at last. ‘Not sinking,’ he shouted above the chaos. ‘She’s going down too fast for that. It’s like … like …’
‘Like we’re being pulled under,’ Frank finished for him.
Joseph felt a prickling at the back of his neck. He couldn’t help thinking of the Maw, the monstrous sea demon he’d seen rise out of the ocean less than two weeks ago. It still haunted his dreams. And who knew what else lived beneath the waves?
‘We got to do something,’ Clagg was howling as his crew ran in every direction like headless cockatrices. ‘Yer supposed to be the Demon’s Watch, ain’t yer? So do something. Sky’s sake, this is my ship! My dear, lovely ship!’
‘Get back!’ shouted Paddy. ‘Away from the gunwales.’
Joseph didn’t need to be told twice. He joined the smugglers and watchmen scurrying towards the mainmast. Soon the whole crew was huddled together in the middle of the deck, weapons facing outwards, waiting for whatever was going to happen. Joseph found himself squeezed between Frank and Tabitha. She didn’t look so calm any more.
Cannon fire exploded from the Radiant. Everyone ducked as the sails were torn up again and chunks of wood burst from the foremast.
They were practically at sea level now, and Joseph didn’t know if it would be safer above the waves or below them. Not that he had any choice in the matter.
‘Stick together,’ said Frank sternly. ‘No matter what.’
Seawater spilled over the gunwales, racing across the deck, surging through their shoes and up their legs. It was freezing cold. Joseph thrust his cutlass back into his belt and took a deep breath, sucking as much air into his lungs as he could. The deck juddered downwards, and suddenly they were all adrift. He gasped as water flooded his clothing, like icy fingers clamping onto his skin.
‘Look out!’ yelped Tabitha. Joseph floundered out of the way as the mainsail yard came down, smacking into the water and sending up a great gout of spray as it disappeared beneath the waves. Within seconds, the whole ship was gone.
Shouts and screams rent the air as the smugglers and watchmen trod water. Some struck out for the League ships, which towered above them on every side, vast and implacable. But what was the use? There would be no mercy for them there. Joseph had heard the stories. The Duke of Garran’s butchers would kill them all, if the sharks didn’t get them first.
‘Help!’ he shouted uselessly. ‘Help, please! Help—’
Someone grabbed hold of his ankles. What in Thalin’s name … ? He tried to wriggle free, but the hands were strong and determined, tugging him downwards.
‘No! Wait! Let me—’
And then he was under.
Chapter Three
ONE MINUTE TABITHA was treading water, holding on tight to her knife. The next there were hands around her waist and she was being dragged down below the waves. She tried to stab at her attacker, but whoever it was dodged the blow. A hand closed around her wrist and the knife was twisted free. Tabitha struggled harder but it was no good. A second hand gripped her other wrist and her arms were pulled together behind her back.
As her eyes adjusted to the stinging salt water, she saw figures moving all around them. What in all the ocean was this? Some kind of trick by the League? She glanced down and saw a refracted form below her legs. A fish tail, absurdly oversized, with broad, powerful fins.
Tabitha gasped, swallowing a mouthful of seawater and almost choking in the process. There was only one kind of creature in the Ebony Ocean with the arms and hands of a human and the tail of a fish. Merfolk. She craned her neck round and caught a glimpse of a woman’s face, long hair drifting out in the water, a necklace of shells … And then the mermaid’s tail flicked hard like a cracking whip, and they were suddenly moving.
The shapes around them blurred. Bubbles streamed past her face as they shot forward, faster than any land dweller could swim. The mermaid’s arms wrapped around her, hugging her in close, and they took on another burst of speed.
Tabitha was feeling faint and sick from the seawater. Her chest and head felt as if they were going to explode, and she found herself wondering which would go first. She had to breathe. If she didn’t she was going to pass out. She thrashed feebly, trying to free herself from the mermaid’s embrace, but it was hopeless. She didn’t have the energy or the strength.
Suddenly they were heading upwards. The water became clearer and lighter, and then there was a thundering of spray all around them, and Tabitha realized they had breached the surface. For one incredible moment they were arcing through the air, the cold breeze biting into her wet, clinging clothes. She saw the waves stretching out on every side, saw gulls in the sky above, saw other doubled shapes moving fast below the surface behind them, each one surely a mermaid holding onto a person.
She almost forgot to breathe, and desperately gulped in air half a second before they hit the surface again with a crash; then there was a muffled quiet as they powered onwards.
They carried on like that, streaking below the surface. Tabitha was furious, but she couldn’t break the firm grip of the mermaid. And even if she could somehow get free, what good would it do? She’d be alone, Thalin knew where, in the middle of the Ebony Ocean.
Every time her lungs began to burn with the need for more air, she struggled, and the m
ermaid, understanding, shot upwards and arced like a dolphin above the surface. Tabitha sucked in as much air as she possibly could, and then they were below again, swimming onwards.
Where are we going?
Tabitha had to admit that the merfolk had saved them from the League. She had to be grateful for that, didn’t she? But she didn’t feel very grateful. How long had they been swimming for? Hours, maybe. It definitely felt like hours. Above water, she tried to count the other mermaids. Occasionally she saw them breaching too, their captives held tightly, with startled faces and bedraggled hair. Tabitha hoped she didn’t look that ridiculous.
Her eyes became accustomed to the salt and she began to see things below the waves. The odd fish, darting away from them as they shot past. A sea snake, coiling through the water. Nothing gave her the slightest clue to where the merfolk were taking them.
They leaped up above the surface again. But this time Tabitha was shoved forward, and suddenly she was tumbling through the air and down onto something grey and hard. Something that definitely wasn’t water. ‘Aaaargh!’ she yelped, going head over heels. She landed flat on her back, staring up at the sky and trying to make the world stop spinning. Behind her, there was a splash as her captor disappeared back into the waves.
Tabitha sat up, rubbing her head. She was on a stony beach, empty except for a slope of scree stretching up ahead of her and a few haggard trees on the horizon.
There were more splashes, and watchmen and smugglers came crashing down around her like cannonballs, yelping with pain and surprise as they grazed elbows and shins. Soon Hal was fumbling his glasses back onto his nose, the troll twins were wringing out their sodden jackets and Captain Clagg was hunting feverishly through his pockets to check that his bottle of firewater had made it safely. Last of all, Joseph came hurtling down, curled up in a ball with his eyes tightly shut, bouncing from rock to rock and coming to rest next to Tabitha. He was shivering with cold, and his new watchman’s coat clung to his bony body.
He ought to count himself lucky, Tabitha reckoned. Not all the smugglers had made it.
She glared at their captors, bobbing out in the deep water. There were between ten and twenty of them, both mermaids and mermen. She’d seen plenty of their kind before, come to trade in Fayt’s bay or locked up in the Brig. But these ones were different. Wilder, somehow. They had untamed salt-matted hair and grim faces. They wore tunics woven out of seaweed and bits of old rope, doubtless scavenged from the ocean.
She was about to give them a piece of her mind when she spotted the long pale rods slung on their backs. She had heard about those things. Bonestaffs, they were called, made from the skeletons of sea creatures that lived too deep for any landlubber to ever see. Hal had explained to her once that bonestaffs were really just large, powerful wands. To say that merfolk were good with magic was an understatement – like saying that giants were a bit on the large side.
Captain Clagg leaped to his feet.
‘You!’ he yelled, then stopped to spit out seaweed. ‘You … brine-crawling bilgebags! You scaly swabs! My ship – what have you done with my ship?’ Tabitha had never seen him look so furious before. Then again, she’d never seen him lose the Sharkbane and half his crew before either. He fumbled in his coat pocket and drew out a pistol, the hammer pulled back.
That’s all we need.
Tabitha flung herself forward, reaching for the weapon. If Phineus Clagg shot a mermaid, those bonestaffs would be pointed at them in no time. But her foot slipped on a seaweed-covered rock and she came crashing down. There was a click. No gunshot. She looked up to see a dribble of seawater emerge from the the smuggler’s pistol barrel.
The merfolk were making strange noises, like a crowd of braying seals. Clambering to her feet, Tabitha realized that they were laughing. At her. It made her shudder. Of course the pistol wasn’t going to go off. The powder was probably damper than a baby dolphin.
Phineus Clagg cursed and hurled the pistol as hard as he could at their tormentors. It splashed harmlessly into the sea, a good ten feet from the nearest merman. The seal noises swelled in volume.
‘What do they want?’ asked Joseph. He had sat up now, rubbing at his bruised arms and looking sorry for himself.
Paddy wrung out his sodden tricorne hat and shrugged. ‘Beats me. But I doubt it’s just a bit of fish and a word of thanks.’
‘They have us trapped,’ said Hal. ‘So whatever it is, I think we’ll have to listen.’
ILLON IS BEAUTIFUL.
The sand is soft beneath his shoes, golden waves of it extending in either direction, lapped by the blue waves of the Ebony Ocean. Inland, the beach gives way to lush green vegetation: tall grasses and palm trees.
He raises his pistol, closing one eye to sight down the barrel. It jolts in his hands with a satisfying CRACK, and the bird drops out of the tree as if suddenly made of stone. Its wings twitch on the sand, flashing vivid blue and yellow. Moments later it is still.
Beautiful, but unprepared. Just like the village his scouts have uncovered on the far side of the island.
Tonight he will have his cooks pluck the bird and roast it for dinner.
And tomorrow, at dawn, they will kill the fishermen and burn their homes.
Two figures are approaching across the sand. One strides, tall, elegant and dressed all in white, a heavy broadsword on her back. Major Turnbull’s long blonde hair is loose, fluttering like a flag in the sea breeze. The other stumbles, wrists tied together with a bit of old rope. A scruffy old human with thinning hair, missing teeth and wide, terrified eyes. A prisoner. One of the few captured in the skirmish with the Fayter scout ship.
Worthless.
Perhaps.
‘Good day to you,’ says the Duke. ‘I believe you know who I am. And you … you are from Port Fayt, I take it?’ He pours gunpowder into the barrel of his pistol.
‘No, sir. Begging your pardon, sir. I’m just a smugg— a sailor, sir. From the Old World. Azurmouth.’ The man’s eyes flicker from side to side, as if in hope of escape. But there is none. Just the smooth golden sand stretching away from them.
‘Indeed?’ The Duke pulls back the hammer. ‘From Azurmouth. And yet you sail on a vessel with the Demon’s Watch.’
The smuggler licks his lips.
‘I – we came to spy on your fleet, sir, if truth be told. On the League. It was Newton who sent us. Captain Newton of the Watch.’
‘I have heard of the man.’
He sights down the barrel again. Another bird has landed in the branches of a tree, even closer this time. It is almost too easy.
‘What of the others? Your fellow … “sailors”.’
The smuggler swallows.
‘Our ship was pulled down below. By merfolk, sir. They took Captain Clagg and most of the crew. And the watchmen. I don’t know why. You have to believe me, sir.’
Merfolk.
Interesting.
‘Well then. That will be all.’
He swings the pistol round, resting it against the man’s forehead. At once the smuggler begins to whimper, weeping and begging.
He savours it.
‘My friend,’ he says softly, ‘you are scarcely worth the waste of shot.’
The man’s eyes go wide as the pistol is removed. As the Duke lets the hammer go and steps back. There is shock and gratitude in his eyes. Hope.
Delicious.
Even as Major Turnbull slides the sword out of its sheath.
Even as it glints, held high in the glorious sunshine.
Even as it flashes down.
Chapter Four
THE MERFOLK WERE signing amongst themselves, their hands dancing as they conveyed messages in their silent language. At last one of them swam forward into the shallows – a slim mermaid with short blonde hair sticking up in clumps. She had a bonestaff on her back, and another in her hand.
‘Fayters,’ she said. Her voice sounded strained, as if this was the first time she’d ever spoken. ‘Which of you is king?’
> ‘She means leader,’ explained Hal. ‘Which of us is the leader.’
Paddy slapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
‘We’ll be the king today,’ he said. ‘So tell us, why are we here?’
The mermaid drew herself up and spoke, her voice ringing out like a town crier’s.
‘Very well, troll kings. Today we have rescued you from certain death.’
‘Now hold on,’ said Frank. ‘ “Certain” might be a bit strong, missy. I think we really had a chance back there.’
The mermaid carried on as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘The men in white have come. You saw for yourselves. They have sailed over the ocean, and they will kill you all. They have many ships and many men.’ She gestured to her companions. ‘We are here because we merfolk can help you. Together, our people will defeat the men in white. We will pull their ships below. We will smash them to dust. We will turn the very ocean against them. We will—’
‘Great,’ burst out Tabitha. She stumbled to her feet and strode towards the water’s edge, her cheeks burning with anger. ‘That’s just wonderful. But did you really have to drag us halfway across the Ebony Ocean to explain that you’re going to help us?’
A humourless chuckle sounded behind her. It was Clagg, sitting on a boulder. ‘There’s a catch though, ain’t there?’ he said.
There were movements among the merfolk. Hunching of shoulders; narrowing of eyes.
The mermaid who had spoken smiled a tight, cold smile.
‘A catch,’ she repeated.
‘Shark pits,’ said someone. Tabitha turned to see Joseph standing, his eyes wide. He looked a little embarrassed when he realized that everyone was looking at him, but he carried on anyway. ‘I mean, is it to do with the shark pits? You want us to get rid of them?’
