She shouted back. “We hit that rock pretty hard. Go below deck and see if we’re taking on water.”
He nodded and climbed back down the stairs before waving for Brock and Cam to follow. Weaving back and forth as the ship rocked, they crossed the deck, climbed down the stairs, and slipped inside. The noise of the storm dimmed when they closed the door behind them. Brock ran into the men’s cabin, emerging with a glow lamp as Lars, Benny, Niles, and Tipper looked on. Parker heard Benny shout from the room.
“What’s going on?”
Ignoring him, Parker opened the door at the end of the hall and descended to the cargo hold with Brock and Cam a step behind. The smell of feces was overwhelming, informing him that the horses were shaken by the poor treatment.
Parker ran to the bilge hatch and pulled it open. The blue light of his glowlamp poured through the hatch, lighting the surface of the dark water below. The bilge was already full; the surface of the water now just inches below the hatch.
He glanced toward Brock, their eyes meeting. It was clear that ship wouldn’t stay afloat much longer. He closed the hatch and they climbed back to the cabin level.
Brock went to warn the girls while Parker stuck his head into the boys’ room.
“Get your stuff and get on deck. The ship is sinking. We don’t have long.”
Benny, Lars, Niles, and Tipper scrambled to gather weapons and packs as Parker and Cam grabbed their own. When he stepped from the cabin, Brock was leading Ashland, Libby, and Puri toward the deck.
They emerged topside and found that daylight had taken a firm grip, making it easy to see shore. Parker scanned the landmass and found a forbidding wall of tall cliffs lining the shoreline. He ran to the quarterdeck and climbed up to report to Tenzi.
“We are taking on water! The bilge is nearly full!”
Tenzi looked grim, nodding. “We don’t have long, then. Let’s see if I can get us a bit closer before we abandon ship.”
Parker nodded. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”
She leaned over to shout. “There’s a bucket in the dingy. Take it and start bailing!”
Parker nodded, dropping to the main deck and running to the dingy. Brock saw him and met him at the rail.
“What’s the plan?” Brock asked.
“We need to bail out the dingy. We’ll have to abandon ship soon!” he yelled back.
“I’ll do it,” Brock said as he climbed onto the rail and jumped over to the swinging dingy.
Parker ran across the deck to meet their other companions.
“We are about to abandon ship.” Parker pointed toward the dingy.
Puri glanced at it, then back to Parker. “What about the horses? We cannot leave them.”
“What else can we do? They can’t fit on the dingy,” Parker shouted back.
She stared at him for a long moment, her face grim when she finally nodded. Turning, she disappeared down the stairs with Cameron a step behind while the others waited on deck. When Puri and Cam returned, her face remained grim but Cam’s now looked haunted.
Parker stepped close to Cam. “What happened?”
Cam shrugged. “When we got down there, the water in the cargo hull was waist deep and is rising fast. Puri didn’t want the horses to drown, trapped down there, so she gave them a better death I guess.”
Parker now understood the looks on their faces. He patted Cam on the shoulder but had no words to add. The ship lurched again, causing everyone to stumble toward the bow. Parker spun about to find that they were now just a couple hundred feet from shore. Tenzi had opted to run them aground.
He turned toward the stern to see her descend from the quarterdeck.
“Abandon ship!” Tenzi shouted as she approached the remaining crewmembers. “Grab the captain, and help him to the dingy.”
Parker turned to his friends. “To the dingy. Come on,” he led the others to the small vessel.
Starting with the three girls, Parker, Cam, and Brock helped the others climb into the dingy as it dangled above the churning water twenty feet below. They were already in the dingy when Tenzi appeared at the rail, trailed by three sailors stumbling under the dead weight of Captain Sinclair. Cam and Lars helped load the unconscious man into the dingy. The remaining three sailors climbed into the fully loaded boat, leaving only Tenzi on the ship.
A large wave hit, splashing cold water high enough to soak them. Parker looked up at the ship, now tilting away from the dingy, but he could no longer see Tenzi. Moments later, she appeared and flipped the winch release. The queasy sense of weightlessness hit Parker’s stomach as the small craft plummeted to the sea. It struck hard, flattening out the passengers and sending a sailor over the side to vanish into the dark waters. Parker and Cam leaned over the edge, looking to fish the man from the sea, but he never surfaced. A rope from above dropped into the water, causing Parker to look up again. Tenzi had cut one of the winch lines that had held the dingy. With a leap, she jumped to the other line and shimmied down to the boat. Once onboard, she used her knife to sever the line and turned to the group.
“Now, get those oars in the water! We’ve got to get to shore, now!”
Mirroring the two sailors, Cam reached dug an oar from beneath their seats and set the pivot pin in place. Lars had his in place seconds later, and all four oars were set.
Tenzi yelled. “Row at the same time, on my count!” They nodded and she called out, “Stroke!”
Parker’s gaze shifted toward the shore as the small boat rose up on a high swell. There was a narrow beach nestled between the cliff sides, hundreds of feet away. The beach disappeared as the swell passed them and the boat dipped low, surrounded by high waves. He glanced back to where the last sailor had fallen, still not seeing the man. He prayed to Issal that the sea wasn’t out to claim anyone else.
. . .
Parker held tight to the rail as the dingy ran aground. Tenzi and the last two remaining sailors leapt from the bow into the waist-deep water. Without their added weight, the bow raised up and the next wave drove the boat forward while those on foot pulled it along. When the wave receded, the hull remained firmly beached against the wet sand.
Cam and Parker each grabbed one end of Sinclair, lifting him over the side of the boat as they passed the captain to the two sailors. Another wave crashed in, causing the men to stumble as they tried to get to dry land. When they fell, they lost grip of their captain. Tenzi grabbed the man’s hands before the receding water could pull him from shore. She was able to drag Sinclair across the sand despite his being more than twice her size. Parker leapt from the boat to help as another wave hit, the force washing Sinclair further ashore. Seeing that Tenzi had the captain safely on the beach, he turned to help the others from the small boat.
A minute later, the group sat high on the beach, exhausted as they watched the waves crashing along the sandy shore. Parker’s gaze searched beyond the breakers to see what had become of Star Dancer. Nothing but the quarterdeck and two remaining masts stood above the waterline. The ship appeared to have settled into its fresh grave, a quarter mile from shore.
The rain had lessoned significantly since they had boarded the dingy, now wavering between a sprinkle and a fine mist. Cold and wet, Parker prayed for the rain to end.
Using his staff, Brock climbed to his feet and dusted the sand from his bottom before extending a hand to Ashland.
“Come on. Let’s see what’s here besides sand and rock.” Brock said.
She took his hand, standing as others began climbing to their feet.
Tenzi gestured toward the remaining sailors. “Perry, Bart, and I will stay with Sinclair to make sure he’s safe.”
Parker responded. “Do you want me to stay with you? I’m pretty good with this bow.” He patted the bow strung across his back.
“Don’t worry about me,” Tenzi said. “I’m pretty good with these knives, too.”
Parker had seen the girl use her knife, but hadn’t noticed more than one. He felt sure that she wasn’
t boasting. Her toughness was among the reasons she intrigued him.
They headed toward the green foliage covering the hillside beyond the beach. The pale sands extended hundreds of feet in both directions, terminating against steep cliff walls that towered over the sea.
When they crested the rise of sand, they found a small river emerging from a ravine as it flowed into the sea. Parker sent Issal a prayer of thanks for the fortune of landing near a source of fresh water.
The canyon before them was thick with palms and lush green undergrowth. The foliage enveloped a shallow river, dotted with partially submerged rocks. Parker removed his flask and submerged it in the swift flowing water to fill it. Others copied him, refilling their water skins as they observed their surroundings.
Brock pointed east. “It appears that the way out is to follow this ravine uphill. Since this river will provide fresh water, we can follow it inland until we find a place to stop and rest. I think we could all use a break after last night. Plus, we can’t make it too far until Sinclair recovers.”
Parker pointed inland. “You guys scout ahead. I’ll go back and help carry Sinclair up here.”
“Okay.” Brock nodded before turning east, leading the group up the canyon.
As Parker headed back to the beach, he realized that the rain had stopped. Glancing back at the eastern horizon, he saw a slim beam of sunlight breaking through the gray skies above the ridgeline. The storm was over.
CHAPTER 40
Raising a knuckle to his eyes, Brock rubbed the weariness out. He was thankful that they had escaped the storm alive but was now concerned about their continued survival. While he knew that the attack on Sol Polis and subsequent storm were not his doing, he felt responsible since the others had followed him on the quest that put them in this position.
Looking out at the sea, a half mile away, the steady sets of white waves upon blue waters appeared far friendlier than they had an hour ago. Now that the storm had moved on, the sea had settled, and the land had begun to dry in the morning sun. He turned to survey the camp, and saw that Parker and Cam were draping clothing from the lowest branches of a large umbrella-like tree. A small fire burned in the center of the camp, fed by dead wood gathered from the area. Between the warmth of the fire, emerging sunlight, and the ocean breeze, he expected that things would dry quickly.
Taking a seat upon a rock, Brock began removing his belongings from his pack. He pulled out a bundle, wrapped within his old apprentice cloak. Finding the cloak to be quite wet, he winced at what he might find when he unwrapped it. The cloak fell away, revealing a thick red book with a gold Chaos rune embossed on the cover. His fears were realized when he noticed that the edges of the pages were wet. He carefully peeled the wet pages open to where his folded notes were stored. Luckily, the notes were still intact, but most of the book was ruined. Finding the text and symbols on the pages smeared beyond recognition, Brock’s heart sank as he realized that the symbols discovered thus far might be all they would ever learn.
Brock looked at the two most recent symbols, drawn in his notes. He, Ashland, Tipper, and Libby had begun memorizing them, but they could only guess at the effect of the symbols until they tested them. Having translated the runes during their journey from Wayport to Sol Polis, they had resisted any experimentation within the confines of the ship. The last thing he had wanted was to sink the ship. With the thought, Brock looked toward the water and saw the ship’s masts jutting above the surface at an angle, looking like two toothpicks. He found it ironic that the ship ended up sinking for a completely different reason.
“That looks bad.” Ashland said as she sat next to Brock.
He looked back at the wet book in his hands. “Yeah. The notes survived, but the book is in bad shape.”
“Maybe if you put it in the sun to dry it, you can still salvage something from it,” she suggested.
Brock stood, stepping to the outcropping of rocks where they were drying their wet cloaks and clothing. He found a flat spot and set the open book out to dry. The warmth from the sun felt good on his cool damp skin. His focus shifted to the sky overhead. Holding his hand up to block the bright sunlight, he noticed another shape in the heavens. Now a round ball, the ominous planet could easily be seen in the day sky. How long did they have before it reappeared in the evening sky?
Brock surveyed the camp again, and found that the others had stripped down to minimal clothing as their things dried. His eyes then fell on the ship captain. Sinclair was now awake, but still seemed quite out of sorts. The man tried to sit and then promptly tipped sideways to throw up. It appeared that it would take some time yet for him to recover.
Approaching Parker, Brock spoke softly. “Do you have any idea where we are?”
Parker glanced toward Niles, who shrugged. “No. I’ve never seen this coast before. Since that way is east,” he pointed inland, “we must be somewhere in Kalimar.”
Tenzi, who was standing near Sinclair, stepped closer. “This is the western coastline of southern Kalimar. I estimate that we’re about thirty miles north of Sol Gier.”
Parker nodded. “That makes sense. However, getting to Sol Gier will be difficult with the high cliffs south of us.”
Brock nodded, thinking. “What about Sol Limar?”
Tenzi’s brow furrowed. “Sol Limar? There’s nothing there but old ruins. Why would you want to go there?”
Parker smiled. “He has a reason.” He turned toward Brock. “Sol Limar should be just about directly east of us, across the peninsula.”
Brock nodded. “Okay. Thanks to what the crew grabbed from the ship, it looks like we have enough food here to get by a bit. I suggest we rest for a few hours and then follow this canyon inland. We’ll see if we can scrounge up more food along the way. Regardless, at least we have fresh water as long as we’re near this river.”
. . .
Brock hopped across the rocks, over the flowing water of the shallow river. As they traveled inland, the river had gradually become smaller and was now merely fifteen feet across.
Pausing at the far side, he glanced back to see the others following along in a line. Ashland deftly hopped from rock to rock across the river, giving him a smile as he held a hand out to help her onto the bank. He turned and resumed cutting a path through the damp wood, swinging his staff to push the undergrowth of brush and long grass aside.
The sky was beginning to dim, with the sun now behind the clouds to the west. They had been climbing up the canyon for hours, and their belongings remained damp from the storm.
Brock meandered through the woods, seeking the easiest route while trying to avoid the sloppy red mud that dotted the forest floor. Something burst from the undergrowth and scurried across his path, causing him to jump. It was a large bird, unfamiliar to Brock. Stopping, he motioned for Ashland to quiet. She stopped and he motioned to Parker, who was a step behind her.
“It’s a crowster,” Parker whispered as he slid his bow from his shoulder. He eased an arrow from the quiver and took aim. A “thwap” sounded as the arrow pierced the neck of the bird. It stumbled about and flapped its wings for a bit before tumbling into the fallen leaves.
Benny exclaimed from behind Parker. “Whoa! Nice shot, Parker.”
“Thanks,” he said, pulling another arrow out. “Have everyone stay here and remain quiet. There should be others, since they typically nest in groups.”
Brock and Ashland remained still as Parker slid past them. He took perhaps another ten steps before three more of the large birds burst from the brush and scurried in different directions.
Parker’s bow followed one of them, firing and hitting it in the breast to knock the bird over. It twitched briefly before lying still. Parker drew another arrow from the quiver before creeping deeper into the woods. When Brock lost sight of him through the trees, he decided it was time to claim their dinner.
“Benny, grab this bird, and I’ll get the one up ahead,” Brock said, pointing at the first bird. “It looks like the fruit w
e found earlier won’t be all we have for dinner tonight.”
Benny nodded and weaved his way through the trees toward the bird. “That’s good to hear because I’m starving. I’m sure the others feel the same way.”
After grabbing the second bird, Brock turned toward the others waiting behind him. He waved them forward as he followed the route Parker had taken. A minute later, he spotted Parker pulling an arrow from a third bird. Brock pulled the arrow from the bird he carried, handing it to Parker when he reached him.
“Good shooting. It looks like you’ve fed us again. You’re going to feel a lot of love from everyone at dinner tonight,” Brock said, smiling at Parker.
Parker smiled back. “Good. I could use a little love right now.”
Brock passed Parker and led the group uphill through the forest. He soon noticed a rushing sound ahead, the noise steadily growing louder. Angling back toward the river, he stepped to the bank as the sun broke through the clouds behind him. The beam of sunlight shined onto a tall waterfall, creating a rainbow in the mist rising from the rushing water. It was an amazing sight.
Ashland stepped next to him. “Wow. It’s beautiful.”
He smiled, putting his arm around her. Shipwrecked and lost in a foreign land, yet Ashland still appreciated the beauty surrounding them. How could he not love this girl?
. . .
After breaking camp the next morning, they left the waterfall behind to resume their uphill journey. When the canyon leveled to become a saddle, the river split in two small rivulets, dribbling down from the peaks to the north and the south. They stopped to refill their skins one last time before continuing east.
Brock skirted around a peak and led them along a ridgeline, which they followed for much of the day. They ate sparingly, trying to ration the leftover crowster and the sweet fruit they had collected near the coast. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep them going.
For hours, they hiked, and the miles slid past. When they reached the eastern end of the ridgeline, the sun was low in the sky behind them. Brock paused and surveyed the view, trying to determine the best route. If they wanted to continue eastward, he could see no option but to descend and cross the valley ahead. After taking a drink, he capped his water skin and began seeking a route down.
The Emblem Throne (The Runes of Issalia Book 2) Page 20
