Fossegrim

by Mary E. Twomey

  Foss snarled at me for good measure and cracked open the tops of the three barrels. In a flash he ran them up the stairs one by one, bringing them back with a mouth ready to yell at me.

  “Shut up!” I shouted, unwilling to lose my slight upper hand. “I need more glass. What do we have that’s glass or pottery or something that can be broken into sharp pieces?” When he took an entire three seconds to think, I yelled, “Get it now!”

  Foss ran up the stairs, and I could hear the men shouting and fighting the tentacles as best they could. Jens’s voice boomed out, and terror squeezed me around the throat.

  When Foss reappeared with a few more lanterns, I snapped, “Took you long enough! Dump them in the barrels, as much as you can cram in there.” He obeyed, looking over his shoulder to the stairwell anxiously. “Focus, Foss!” I clicked my fingers to garner his attention. “This is a bomb we’re making. As soon as I add the aluminum from my pot, you’ve got less than a minute to put the lid back on the barrel and throw the whole thing into the monster’s mouth. Can you manage that?”

  “Are you kidding me? That’s your plan? There’s no way you can make a big enough explosion to kill it!”

  “Just do it!” I screamed. “One at a time until all three are launched. Everyone else needs to get below deck first. After you throw it, run as fast as you can back down here, or you’ll get blasted with shrapnel.” When Foss looked like he wanted to question me, I jabbed my finger up the steps. “Go get the others now!”

  Jamie! Get everyone down below deck now! Hurry! Foss will help you grab the others.

  Foss surprised us both by actually obeying. Mace was the first one down the stairs. He was soaking wet and had a huge gash across his chest. The poor boy was terrified, and nearly collapsed in my arms. “We’re not going to make it!” he confessed. His heart clamored against mine.

  “We are! I need you to focus, though. Mace, I need your whistle. You have to do something for me.”

  He looked at me like I was out of my mind, which, to be honest, I pretty much was. He shook his head, and we both knew how incapable he was of focusing right now, but he was also unable to turn me down. “What?”

  “We can destroy the farlig, but he has to open his mouth when I say so. Is there a whistle that can make someone open their mouth?”

  “Of course, but I’m not strong enough to control something like that!” He flung his hand toward the stairwell as Jamie jumped down to our level.

  “What are we doing down here?” Jamie demanded.

  “We’re killing the sea monster!” I ushered Jamie behind me. “I need you guys to stay here. Mace and Foss can do the work now.” When Jamie opened his mouth to argue, I shoved him down the hall. “Just do it!”

  Jens and Uncle Rick scrambled down the steps seconds later, with Foss bringing up the rear. Everyone was shouting at me, demanding to know why I was getting them all killed. I responded by pushing Jens and Uncle Rick down the hallway and dragging Mace halfway up the steps, but stopping before our heads breached the surface. “It’s to you, Mace. When I say go, give me your best whistle. We don’t have many chances to make this happen, so I need you to do your best. We need his mouth open from my command until Foss tosses a barrel in its mouth. I’m counting on you.” I looked him in the eye until I was sure he was capable of following the order. When he nodded, I kissed his cheek. “Good boy.”

  I ducked below deck, counting the men dripping and catching their breath. The wind from the currents was whipping around me, making it hard to think. “Where’s Tor?”

  Jens shook his head. “He went overboard. He’s gone, Loos. So whatever it is you’re doing, do it fast. The ship won’t hold much longer.”

  “But dwarves can’t swim!” I swallowed my horror after a short bleat of agony passed through my lips. I made quick work of shoving the nightmare into a box until I could properly deal with it, and nodded to Foss. “Hurry, now. Screw on the lid and run to the top as soon as I dump the aluminum in. Aim for his mouth, but don’t hold onto the barrel for more than a minute. Toss it at its head far from the boat if it’s too close to call, or you’ll be the one exploding. Mace! Start your whistle!” I waited until I heard the first note, then I picked up the pot and dumped about a third of the aluminum into the first barrel. “Cover and run, Foss! Launch it and bolt for cover.”

  Foss’s eyes were wide, wondering what I’d gotten him into. Thankfully, he obeyed. The lid in place, he hefted the heavy oak barrel up the stairs past Mace, who kept his whistle strong. My mouth fell open, and unbidden, my feet moved toward the sound.

  Jens lunged forward and yanked me back, covering my ears to mute out Mace’s lure on me. My brain finally started working again. “Mace, get down here!” I yelled.

  Mace’s whistle was still going as he backed down the steps. I held onto the two remaining barrels and prayed with everything in me that this worked.

  Twenty seconds. Thirty.

  Foss charged back down the steps and shoved me against the wall. I wanted to protest, but then I realized as he boxed me in with his massive body that he was shielding me from the blast.

  “Stop the whistle, Mace!” I commanded just in time.

  I was braced for the explosion, my hands on Foss’s heaving chest. The monster’s scream, however, no one was prepared for. It was high-pitched and screeched like tires on asphalt.

  Foss and I pinned the barrels to the wall as the boat rocked ominously. “Another!” I ordered, motioning for Mace to replay his marvelous whistle. I dumped more aluminum in the barrel, Foss sealed it and charged it up the steps.

  Twenty-five seconds. Thirty-five.

  Foss’s eyes were wide with terror when he returned. “It’s working! It’s injured for sure.”

  “Cover your ears!” I warned this time.

  The second boom was bigger than the first, and the screaming was gurgled now. The strangled sound was awful and wonderful in equal measure. I hated being the killer, but I could not let my friends and family die like this. The rush it gave me was too unsettling to examine.

  “Last one, guys!” I commanded.

  Mace poked his head above the stairwell and looked for the monster’s head. He came back down. “He’s sinking! Hole blown clean through the back of his head! We did it!”

  I ran up to the surface and screamed at the carnage. Squid brains were bubbling out of the monster’s head. His whole body was sinking slowly, his tentacles unraveling from the boat.

  One of the giant black squid arms was thick as a tree trunk and swinging madly in the air like a balloon when you let all the air out. Dread coursed through me as the stickers latched onto the rail and held on as the monster sank, taking the side of the boat with him. “He’s not letting go of the boat!” I shouted over my shoulder. “Cut off his arm! Quick, or we’ll tip over!”

  “Hurry!” Uncle Rick sent the men forward on my order. He began chanting with his eyes closed, using his magic to attempt calming the water. The ocean was far bigger than him, so it did not hearken to his request enough to truly help us.

  I plastered my body to the wall as the guys charged up the stairs, slipping and sliding on the lye-soaked surface. I clawed at my face every time one of them fell. Once they landed in the abyss, that would be the end of them.

  My eyes fell on a thick rope near the front of the ship. One of the crates had busted open, spilling its contents out on the floor. I don’t know what possessed me to run and grab it, but before I knew it, I was sliding across the boat in the darkness, scooping up the rope and tying it to the banister as tight as I could. It was long, and I tossed the end of it clear to the other side of the ship. Thank you, Dad, for making me play baseball for three summers before you gave in and realized I have little aptitude for sports.

  “Grab on!” I yelled, though my voice could barely be heard above the wind and the chaotic nature of the waves. The only light came from the giant moon, which gave everything a blood red hue. The boat tipped as the sea monster sunk further down, and Foss,
Mace and Jamie thankfully grabbed onto the rope to steady themselves. Jens was straddling the railing as he hacked away at the rubbery tentacle, and I sobbed at the mental image of him toppling overboard.

  I held tight to the railing and the rope as the boat tipped me higher in the air. My fear of heights combined with my newly discovered fear of sea monsters. I screamed as gravity pulled my body hard toward the farlig’s grave.

  It was too much. My fingers were slicked with soap, and the water spray from the waves was making everything hard to grip. I saw my life flash in bright bursts before my eyes as both the railing and the rope slipped between my desperate fingers. I prayed a silent plea as I fell for Linus to… make it all better? To catch me?

  A strong grip banded around my flailing hand, and I knew in that moment, my brother had heard me.

  Twenty-Six.

  Mace’s Determination

  It was not Linus, but it was my brother. I’d fallen all the way across the boat, but did not hit the waves that clawed at me. Mace gripped my arm with wild eyes as I sobbed, feet dangling through the broken rungs of the railing. He hoisted me up, abandoning his post hacking away at the tentacles. Using the rope as a guide, he pulled me to his front.

  At this point, I was pretty much useless. I sobbed at the life I’d nearly lost in the sea and clung to his shirt with all I had in me. Using the hand over hand method like he was scaling a mountain, Mace pulled us to the stairwell and deposited me below the deck. I slid down the steps, but was immediately submerged in water.

  “No!” Mace cried, jumping down into the darkness and yanking me up. I gasped for air and held onto him as another gust of water threatened to wash me down the hall. “Get on my shoulders!” Mace shouted over the commotion.

  I obeyed as quickly as I could with my limbs trembling. I gripped his neck with my thighs as I pressed my hands to the ceiling of the bottom deck.

  No one had thought about all the water collecting below. Uncle Rick was up to his shoulders in water, and Britta held Henry Mancini over her head as the water lapped at her chin.

  Uncle Rick was sucking the water into his palms, but he was no match for the steady flow that was streaming down the steps. No sooner would he remove a gallon, then five more would demand being dealt with.

  Mace took my hand and placed it atop the back of his palm. Beneath my terror, I felt his hand heat up. Mace closed his eyes and sucked the liquid into his hands at a rate far faster than Uncle Rick.

  “No, Charles! That’s too fast! You’ll hurt yourself!” Uncle Rick called out through the dark tunnel.

  Britta whimpered as the water dipped to her shoulders, and she could finally lower her chin.

  It was going well until I felt Mace start to shake. I could feel his intensity increasing as the water level fell to his waist. I slid off his rigid body into the pool that only went up to my chest now and took a look at his pinched face.

  “Mace, stop!” He had blood trickling down his nose and out of his left ear as he shook with his eyes closed. “No! You can stop!”

  “Not… until… you’re safe!” he shouted through gritted teeth. Blood from his nose dripped down his chin.

  I couldn’t take it any longer. I flung myself onto him in a hug that knocked the concentration off his face. He heaved as if breathing for the first time as my friendly attack pushed him up against the wall. “No more,” I pled, hoping his love for me would not be the thing that killed him. I buried my face in his soaking chest and let his blood drip down into my hair. “No more.”

  I had precious little comfort to give him. I was still reliving my almost death and the horror that just looking at the decapitated sea monster inflicted upon me in the oppressive black of the sea. Tor was dead; I would not lose my brother. We hugged each other with weak and shaking arms, clinging to the lifeline with everything left that our adrenaline had not taken from us.

  I scooped up a handful of water and washed the blood from his face, fingers trembling when I saw his eyelids droop. “You’re okay! You’re okay!” I chanted, willing it to be true. “You’re okay! You’re okay!” I blubbered.

  The boat rocked me backwards, pulling him forward onto me as I was submerged underwater. It was even darker underneath the surface in the long hallway, and I fought to keep Mace’s heavy body with me as we got turned around with the waves. Flashes of the Nøkkendalig forced out an underwater scream, but I pulled myself together before I lost my head to total panic.

  Finally I managed to push us both to the surface. Mace slumped against the wall with his eyes closed, saturated lashes sweeping across his angular cheekbones. I gripped his shirt and held him upright, sobbing as Uncle Rick fought his way through the current to us.

  Uncle Rick raised a now unconscious Charles from the pool and breathed in his face. He traced his thumb from Mace’s hairline down the slope of his nose, causing a golden symbol with intricate loops and swirls to appear like a glowing tattoo on his forehead.

  “That’s my boy,” Uncle Rick said, letting out a contented sigh when Mace’s eyes opened.

  I didn’t think I would ever stop crying.

  Uncle Rick was trying to soothe me while holding his son, but I heard none of it. There simply wasn’t time for coddling. “Buckets!” I declared. “We need buckets. This ship’s going to sink if we take on much more water. Where are the buckets?”

  “There are a few pots and such down the hall in the kitchen. I’ll be back.” The old man swam down the hall, looking, well, kinda funny doing a breaststroke.

  I held Charles upright as he fought to regain himself and process the horror of the moment. Britta waded to us with Henry Mancini and pulled Mace toward the cabin. “Lie on the hammock in here while we work. You can watch Henry Mancini, if you like. I’ll help with the buckets.

  “No, I…” Mace argued, but he nearly fainted getting out the sentence, so Britta won that one. We supported him and pushed the door open to the cabin. The small room was filled with water up to the hammock, so it was easy to maneuver him up into the netting.

  I glanced at the window and noticed the water level was higher than it had been when the terror began. I turned to Britta once Mace was secured in the hammock with my frightened puppy. “Let’s form an assembly line for the buckets.” We waded back out into the hallway where Uncle Rick was scooping up water near the foot of the steps. “Uncle Rick, can you suck more water in without hurting yourself?” I asked, taking one of the three containers he’d found.

  Uncle Rick nodded. “I can. Charles was frightened for you, so he took in too much water at once. I can pace myself.”

  “Good.” I motioned for Britta to go midway up the steps. “We’ll use the buckets. You use your magic.” I did not wait for a response, only handed a heavy pot to Britta, who ran it to the railing and dumped it over.

  “Britta! Get back down there!” I heard Jamie yell. He ran over to her to move her back down the stairs.

  “We’re flooded down here, Jamie!” I called up to him. “When the monster’s gone, send the guys to help us, or we’ll take on too much water and sink.”

  Jamie looked down with wide eyes and saw the water around my chest. “We’re coming!” he assured me.

  I handed a bucket up to Britta, but the boat rocked, and I fell again. When this was all over, I was never going swimming as long as I lived. I twisted in the water and tried not to have a panic attack when I felt arms around my waist yanking me toward oxygen.

  Jens. My perpetual hero and constant safe place. I exhaled in his face and wrapped my arms around his neck as he placed me on the stair. “It’s getting too deep for you here.” He took my place at the bottom of the stairs and handed up a bucket of water to me. I passed the pail to Britta, who gave it to Jamie to dump overboard, and then Jamie threw it back down the stairs to Jens. With the absence of the squid, the boat did not rock so violently. The assembly line moved like lightning with the extra help, and slowly, very slowly, the water level began to decrease.

  Foss steered the ship
away from the sight of the fight and on toward safer waters, if such a thing existed.

  Twenty-Seven.

  The Suck it Up Team

  We took turns recouping. Half the group slept and nursed their wounds while the other half of us fought off our exhaustion and tended to the ship. I was on the suck it up team. While Jamie and Britta collapsed in their hammock and cried about Tor and the horror of the night, and Mace and Alrik rested to fend off overusing their magic, I was working.

  I took inventory of all the stuff, opening each crate to let the water out. I strung a clothesline across the deck and hung up all the clothes I’d laundered with what was left of the soap. I washed the walls and floors of the bottom deck, then set to scrubbing down the kitchen, washing everything meticulously as my brain short-circuited and went to checkout land. I worked like a madwoman, seeking out mayhem and putting order to it while Foss and Jens repaired damaged parts of the boat as best they could on such limited resources. I worked hard to fend off images of my favorite dwarf sinking like a rock to the bottom of the ocean.

  We’d lost a lot in the ordeal, but the food crates were only water damaged, so we would not starve. I cleaned out the last crate and set out the things to dry before I started to swab the deck. The mop had gone missing. Or more realistically, it’s possible there never was one aboard. So I got down on my hands and knees and washed the deck with the soap and a rag. It was a huge ship, so I picked a corner and worked my way to the other end, not permitting the tiniest bit to go unpolished. I worked until my knuckles cracked, my fingers bled and my brain fogged over so I didn’t have to picture my dead dwarf anymore.

  * * * *

  I awoke in a hammock, unsure how I got there or for how long I was out. I looked around and judged the hour to be twilight-ish. My once beautiful black nightgown was crusted over with cleaner and ocean crap. It felt so gross on me; I itched to take it off. Mostly because it was also itchy.