by Jay Swanson
“I say we make him watch then,” Tom said. “Serves the bastard right.”
“Aye,” Bill said. “Exceptin' that it's off.”
“What?”
“I can't go about havin' my way with her when he's watchin', don't like it.”
“You don't like it?”
“No!”
“Huh,” Tom shrugged. “Wouldn'a guessed.”
Clive stood slowly, one hand holding a soiled rag over the gash in his head.
“You rat bastards.”
“What the hell is his problem then?”
“Oi, Clive,” Bill turned to the even bigger man. “You had your fun, didn't turn out so well but you done had yer chance. You take this bastard somewhere and deal with him, it's my turn.”
“The hell you–”
“Oi! Clive!” the veins in Bill's neck flared out as he yelled at the bigger man. “You hear me? I found 'er, she's mine! You're lucky I don't finish you off myself. Take the little bastard aft and do what you like to him, but leave me be!”
Clive glared at Bill as his jaw set his teeth to grinding. The smoldering hatred behind his eyes drew deep lines in his blood-soaked face until he looked ready to explode. He turned, and with a wicked howl kicked Ardin in the back. Ardin arched out of his curled-up position, yelling as he tried to grab the spot where he had been struck. It didn't help the pain any to grab his back, and it left him even more vulnerable than he already was.
The beast of a man forsook his bleeding head and started pummeling Ardin with both fists. Each the size of a mallet head. He yelled, long deep and guttural cries of frustration and anger. Alisia watched in horror as Ardin tried to protect himself, to cover his face and roll away. There wasn't any hope, the big man just put one foot on the other side of the boy as he knelt and lent his full weight to every punch.
One blow followed another until blood started to spatter the ground and the walls. He yelled and yelled and hammered away with his fists until he was left exhausted, heaving with each breath. His knuckles were red, a mixture of his own blood and the boy's. Alisia wanted to scream, all she could manage was a whimper that barely escaped her throat. He looked dead, and if he wasn't she almost wished he was.
“Holy shit, Clive.” Bill looked horrified. “You could've just slit his throat!”
“Fuck you, Bill.” Clive stood as he wiped his forehead with his sleeve.
He didn't say anything else, just slowly made his way back out of the stall and towards the stairs.
“Well don't leave the little bastard in here with us, then!” There was no response. “Damnit. Tom, help me drag him out of here.”
They grabbed Ardin by his legs and dragged him into the hall.
“That was somethin' then,” Tom said as they walked back in. He carried the MARD stick in from outside, and as they closed the door to the stall, he leaned it against the bulkhead.
Bill started unbuckling his pants. “Just a reminder why you want Clive on your side then, eh?”
“I wager so, though I ain't too sure he's on our side at the moment.”
“Now then, lass. How 'bout a little fun.”
Alisia's head felt like it might explode. She wanted to throw up, wanted to die. Ardin's blood remained a pool on the ground, streaking out where they'd dragged his body and mingling with that of the monster called Clive. She couldn't close her eyes, couldn't shut the images away.
The ship lurched. It was more than just a wave; something had hit them.
“The hell?” Bill stood. “What now?”
“Forget it,” Tom said. “Just take–”
The ship lurched again, throwing them to the ground. The alarm sounded long and high, calling all hands.
“Damnit!” Bill yelled, his frustration split between the fall and the alarm. “Battle stations? Can't be already.”
“Ignore it, eh?” Tom said as he picked himself up. “It's just a drill anyways.”
“Drills don't toss the ship about though do they, Tom?”
They stared at each other for a minute as if unsure what to do. A voice came over the crackly speaker system, calling for all hands to battle stations. This was no drill, it assured them.
“Forget it,” Tom said. “They won't mind us but for a minute, get on with it!”
“He's right lass,” Bill started back towards her, rubbing his stomach. “Let's just have some fun now and then we'll come back for ya later.”
He started to kneel next to her when the ship rocked even harder. Groaning under the force of some unknown obstacle the heaving deck threw Bill back into Tom. The two of them landed on the MARD stick which had rolled out from the side of the stall. Their combined weight behind the impact shattered the housing on its end.
The two men groaned as they picked themselves up. Bill half stood, hands on his knees as he waited for the pain in his back to subside. He opened his eyes as it dissipated and stared at the broken MARD stick in front of him.
“Eh, Bill...” Tom said tentatively.
Bill straightened. Tom's eyes were locked on something behind him, so he turned to see what the problem was. The girl from the floor no longer sat slouched in the corner. She was standing.
Alisia's furrowed brow half-masked her icy stare as wild strands of hair attempted to cover the rest. Fists clenched, shoulders set, she looked like an apparition risen from the depths of hell.
“Why so scared, Tom? She's just a wee la–”
He didn't finish the sentence as a wall of sheer, angry force struck the pair sending them through the closed door and into the far side of the vessel. The ship lurched again, shuddering under the wrath of shearing metal, and Alisia realized she didn't have much time.
TWENTY-THREE
VENGEANCE CAST ASIDE for the moment, Alisia rushed out of the stall to find Ardin. She could distinctly hear gunfire coming from the decks above. Large automatic weapons were warring continuously now. She noticed that occasionally one would stop and never start again. It didn't take long to find her friend; he was badly broken, bleeding, but alive. She could just barely see the rise and fall of his chest; it looked as though he were one big bloody wound.
“Ardin,” she started to cry at the sight. “Ardin, I'm gonna get you out of here. You hear me? I'm gonna get you out of here and I'm gonna make this right.”
The ship lurched violently as if in response.
She couldn't stop the tears from coming, he looked like he was already dead. She didn't know if she could fulfill her promise to him, she just knew she had to try. She found it hard to breathe as she looked at him. The hopelessness spread from his broken form to her chest.
Ardin made a noise, as if trying to say something. The sound was weak and pathetic as he tried to gargle past broken lips and the blood in his mouth. She wept openly at the sound.
The ship rolled so hard and so fast at that moment that the two of them were thrown up against the bulkhead well above the floor, only to slide back down as the ship righted itself and overcompensated the other direction. Water spewed into the hold across the way through three jagged slits that ran for ten feet towards the upper deck.
Alisia started dragging Ardin to the stairs, and summoned her magic to carry him as she navigated her way up. It was tricky to maintain the focus she needed to carry him while working to keep her footing. More than once she was nearly thrown from the exposed railing as she worked her way up. Ardin floated limply behind her, encapsulated and safe for the two story climb.
They made it topside and popped open the hatch only to be greeted by a flood of sound. It was a full-fledged battle. Men screamed and guns fired into the stormy distance creating a cacophony of carnage. Rain slapped endlessly on the listing deck. It filled the void between the concussion and slosh of each massive wave. Manned gun turrets lined the side of the ship, something that they hadn't noticed when they came on board. Perhaps they had been hidden. Now they spat fire into the clouds at enemies that eluded her vision.
Alisia managed to place Ardin safely amo
ng a pile of ropes before another impact on the side of the ship almost sent them overboard. Men ran around frantically in the mass havoc that was being visited upon the ship. She looked over to a gunner's station where a man swiveled around and fired up into the sky, rain pelting his face so hard he could barely keep his eyes open.
The thunder clouds above darkened the sky while a thick fog began to surround the ship. It was impossible to see into the distance. A few bodies were strewn about; rather, pieces of bodies. She didn't think she saw a single whole corpse. The gun stopped firing to the sound of sheering metal. Alisia turned to see the gunner no longer there. He had simply disappeared, along with half of his turret. She started out looking for a life raft of some sort, but soon realized that there was little hope of finding anything so fortuitous and started gathering empty water barrels instead.
The ship lurched again, the groaning endless this time as the vessel began to break in half. She dragged Ardin over to where she had gathered three large barrels and some rope and began to lash them together as quickly as she could. The ship started to bend inwards, causing them to slide towards its center. They were thrown back more suddenly when something hit the ship from underneath and forced the two parts to level back out. Soon it was being pushed up so hard that it bulged, and then tore completely in two.
Alisia held on to Ardin, covering his body from the rain as best she could as she watched a monster unlike anything she had ever seen before emerge from the center of the ship. Its long scaly neck supported a head the size of a large shipping container, razor sharp teeth lining its long snout and framing the lower part of its head. It had two curved horns coming to a point above its head, and its shoulders were over half the breadth of the ship.
It pulled itself through the screaming metal. Blue flames burst from its mouth as it roared and heaved itself free. The body was long and sleek, shimmering in the lights aboard the ship as they began to flicker and go out. It was dark, a rich gray blue that matched the color of the sea so perfectly, it was difficult to distinguish between the two.
The beast finally gained its freedom and its massive wings spread to take flight. Alisia stared on in horror as the two sails of leathery canvas gained purchase in the air and pulled the creature skyward. It's long snake-like tail came after it, lethal-looking spines sticking out near the end as it disappeared into the clouds. It was so large that the fog prevented her from seeing how wide its wingspan really was.
She grabbed Ardin by the arm and the barrels by the rope as she crouched near the port side of the ship. It was taking on water rapidly now, twisting as the bow dipped and began to sink. She waited just a moment longer, until she could feel herself start to slip. She took that as her cue and focused all of her energy into the deck beneath her, then released, launching herself and all she held like an arrow from the bowstring.
They spun away into the fog, a mess of bodies and barrels twisting away from the carnage and into the cool waters beyond. For a moment she could see nothing but swirling gray fog, and then suddenly the water was rushing at her through it.
Alisia blacked out for a moment when she hit the choppy surface. She awoke with a start, head bobbing in the water, gasping desperately for air. Ardin was nearby, she could sense it somehow. She grabbed the barrels as they attempted to float away. Pulling herself onto them she searched frantically for Ardin through the fog.
Yelling his name did no good but she did it anyways. She screamed and screamed in the half light, the fog rolling by in lackadaisical wisps that cared little for her plight. The sound of the sinking ship faded as it churned below the surface, there were no signs of the flying menace that had sunk it.
She cried as she tried to stay on top of the barrels. They threatened to break apart but never fully did. The fog closed in around her as bits of debris bounced off her makeshift raft. Even after her mother had left her, she had never felt so alone.
She tried to call for Ardin again. Her throat caught and all she could do was cry as she floated among the dead.
Alisia awoke as her raft came to a gentle halt. She blinked the salt from her eyelashes as she tried to focus. The sun was beating down on her, and she could feel its warmth as she regained her senses. She was sore all over, and exhausted. Alisia doubted she'd ever felt this tired over the span of her entire life.
The barrels had run aground along the shallow shores of Grandia.
Grandia. The name made her heart race as she came fully awake and started searching for danger. There wasn't any to be seen, in fact, the place was beautiful. The long, broad white beaches were bordered by lush green foliage. Palm and strange craggy trees, ferns and vines grew so thickly she could barely see to the second row. She let herself down into the water, tenderly testing the ground beneath as if it might snatch at her in some hidden treachery.
It held firm, and she put her full weight down allowing the barrels to shift out from under her and float off lazily. The barrels made deep, soft clunking noises as they repeatedly attempted to separate only to be brought back together by the rope that bound them. The place was calm, quiet, broken only by the gentle rolling of the surf. She had a difficult time bringing herself to believe there were no threats.
The shore sloped gently up, but beyond seemed flat beyond. She looked to the south on her left where tall hills jutted out of the thick foliage in the distance. On her right, to the north, a solitary hill breached the sand and marched into the sea as if to claim a reverse beachhead. However the battle had gone in ages past, the result had left the hill half eaten away into a cliff against which the waves maintained their endless counter-assaults.
What caught Alisia's attention, however, was the large white house standing near the cliff's edge. It had a high wall around it, the spires and tower inside giving it the feel of a small castle.
“Well hello Alisia. It's been quite some time.”
She turned quickly towards the voice, splashing in the shallows.
A tall, stately old man dressed from head to toe in a white cloak walked from the trees and smiled at her as he leaned on a long white staff.
“I'm afraid I'm not so surprised to see you here, but I'm glad you're alright.”
“Caspian!” she shouted gleefully as the defenses around her heart melted.
The old man simply laughed as she ran across the beach and threw her arms around him. She had reached White Shores, and for once, she felt truly safe.
TWENTY-FOUR
BILL WOKE UP as another wave rolled slowly against his face. He snorted angrily as the salt water attempted to work its way up his nose. Rolling onto his back, he squinted against the sun, raising his arm in an attempt to shield his eyes from its blazing heat.
Debris of all kinds surrounded him along the beach. Under his arm lay the splintered plank of wood that had been his only lifeline the day before. He was genuinely surprised to find himself alive.
Someone coughed nearby.
“Who's there?”
“Bill?”
“Tommy?!” Bill jumped up to find his best friend lying only feet away among another few chunks of debris. He stumbled over to him and dropped down in the shallow water laughing. “I thought for sure we was gone as gone there, Tom.”
“Aye.” Tom coughed again. “Me too. Feel like I might as well be.”
“Well don't you worry mate,” Bill lifted Tom's shirt to better see the gash across his stomach. “Those dirty slavers will be here any moment and we'll have them patch you up right.”
“Somehow,” Tom coughed again. “I wager they'll want money.”
“We'll dig something out of the wreckage, Tom. Don't you worry yourself.”
“Oi!” a familiar voice came from down the shore. “You two!”
“Devil in hell,” Bill said as he looked south along the beach. “How did he survive all that, then?”
From a good way down the beach came Clive, pale as a sheet and about as stable on his feet. He shook as he walked and seemed barely capable of maintaining a stra
ight line. The open wound on his skull was clearly visible from where Bill crouched. Washed clean by the sea, it looked like it had mostly closed up. It was too bad it had, Bill thought to himself. He'd rather the bastard hadn't made it.
“Well he'll be here in a moment, pray he doesn't cause any trouble, would ya?”
Tom simply groaned.
“Aye,” Bill agreed. “Mayhaps you should pray for yourself first. Let's get you on dry land then eh?”
And with that he started dragging his friend out of the water. It took him a while considering he didn't have much left in the way of strength and Tom was almost as big as he was. Finally they were up high enough that the tide wouldn't catch them. Bill dragged Tom into the shade of the nearest tree and plopped down in the sand next to him.
“Well, let's hope them slick bastards show up before any of us dies then, shall we? Any of us except'n Clive over there, bastard. Hope he trips and opens that wound again, I does.”
Unfortunately for everyone involved, Clive didn't trip. He meandered over to them, taking a much less than direct route, and plopped down next to Bill.
“Well,” he said teetering forward, almost losing his balance completely before sitting back up. “That was a mess then, hey?”
Bill didn't respond, he just sat staring at the broken debris and few bodies that floated along the shore. His head hurt terribly, but all he could think about was that girl. How she looked, how she felt, how she'd knocked him unconscious. He gritted his teeth at that. He would make her pay for it, for robbing him of what dignity he had. He didn't know why he'd survived, but he felt like it might as well be to hunt her down and make her his.
“Well,” Clive slurred as he made an attempt at standing. “As much fun as it is sitting here with you fairies, I think I'm going to go find a drink.”
He fell once, then twice, then finally stood on knocking knees.
