The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock

by Timothy L. Cerepaka

  Vashnas nodded. “You are absolutely correct, Mal. Nothing at all.”

  -

  Despite the gaping hole where the starboard used to be, the Iron Wind managed to sail south smoothly and with little trouble. Quite a few of the sailors tried their hands at various makeshift fixes, such as putting a tarp over the hole (which was impossible to secure with the wind blowing and the constant movement of the ship) and even deconstructing some of the crates to use their wood to rebuild the starboard. All failed, however, so the hole was left as is, even though it caused many of the sailors sadness, especially those who were most proud of the Iron Wind's beauty.

  To say the least, the atmosphere on the Iron Wind was mixed. On one hand, everywhere Kinker went, he heard murmurs of hope and excitement at the idea that they were almost at World's End. A few sailors he even caught singing or at least humming a tune he didn't recognize, probably a song from somewhere up north. Most sailors were eager for this whole voyage to be done and over with.

  On the other hand, mixed with this happiness and eagerness was a sadness and even anger at Bifor's betrayal. No one on the ship had suspected Bifor of being a traitor. He had worked so tirelessly to use his magic for the good of all that the idea that he was planning to kill them all in the end was almost too hard to believe.

  Not to mention it caused some serious distrust among the various sailors. More than once, Kinker found himself being eyed warily by a fellow sailor, as if they thought he was going to try to pull a Bifor, too. He didn't see why, considering that he had done nothing to earn this suspicion, but he supposed that Bifor hadn't either and yet he had turned out to be the most dangerous traitor of them all.

  Still, the air of distrust dissipated quickly when the water went from the deep blue of the ocean to the clearness of a creek stream in spring. This happened gradually, without anyone noticing until Jenur glanced over the side of the ship and said, “Hey, everyone! Look at the water! It's clear!”

  This caused the sailors nearby—who happened to be Kinker and Gino, among six others—to run over to the port (the starboard was no longer good for looking over) and see what Jenur was talking about.

  And indeed, she was correct in her description of the water. Kinker could see clear through to the bottom of the ocean. He saw the sand, a variety of colorful plants he couldn't even describe, and an even more dazzling variety of fish and undersea creatures. What particularly caught his attention were the strange, pink dolphin-like creatures that swam beside the Iron Wind, occasionally leaping out of the water to display their fantastic wing-like fins.

  One such dolphin creature even managed to fly up to the port, getting so close to the sailors that Kinker could practically touch it. As it did so, a strange, melodious sound came from its mouth, which sounded like a song to Kinker, but it was a song he couldn't understand, a song he would probably never understand, and soon he didn't hear it at all because the creature dove back into the water to join its companions.

  “What was that?” said Jenur in awe.

  “A singing leaper,” said Vashnas, walking up to them. “Sometimes called the divine fish. They're found only around the seas of World's End. Very beautiful.”

  “So that means we're almost there,” said Jenur, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Right?”

  “Yes,” said Vashnas. “I imagine that World's End itself will be within view any minute now.”

  Kinker turned to look at Vashnas. While the others were all observing the beauty of the clear ocean, he wanted to keep an eye on Vashnas. He had heard that she wanted to kill Tinkar, a ludicrous idea if there ever was one, and so even when she joined them in peering over the side of the ship to look at the sea, he was not sure how he should treat her

  Then again, is it really my place to judge her? Kinker thought, turning his eyes back to the sea, completely aware that she was still standing next to him. And after everything the gods have put us through, maybe it's time we mortals fought back.

  The hours trickled by, or so it seemed, and eventually, in the distance, a speck of land appeared on the horizon. The speck grew larger, clearer, until soon the outline of what appeared to be a large city appeared in the distance. And beyond that city was a wall of blackness, the blueness of the sky gradually transitioning into an overwhelming darkness that made Kinker want to run and hide.

  Vashnas pointed to the city and said, “That's World's End. Our destination.”

  Jenur frowned. She leaned over the bulwarks, squinting her eyes, and asked, “So what's that blackness behind the city? It looks weird.”

  “The edge of the world, of course,” said Vashnas. “Beyond that blackness is the Void. Only the gods can pass through the Void.”

  “What would happen if we tried to sail past it?” said Kinker.

  “Simple,” said Vashnas. “The Void would annihilate us from existence. Even those of us who are protected by the gods would not survive.”

  Jenur gulped. “Well, that's certainly an encouraging thought. Is there anything beyond the Void?”

  Vashnas shrugged. “Perhaps the Powers. That's all I was told when I first came to World's End all those years ago.”

  “Well, I have no intention of getting annihilated,” said Jenur, pulling back from over the bulwarks. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and said, “What is World's End like, anyway?”

  “You will see soon enough,” said Vashnas. “I would rather not describe it, except to say that it completely dwarfs any mortal-made city, whether those made by humans or those made by aquarians.”

  Kinker frowned. “That is hard to believe.”

  “Yet it is true,” said Vashnas. She patted her jacket and said, “Not that it matters. I'll be killing Tinkar either way, whatever World's End is like nowadays.”

  That led to an awkward silence. Kinker bit his lower lip and looked away, while Jenur tried to pretend that she didn't hear that but clearly did. The other sailors had varying reactions to this little reminder of Vashnas's grim quest, including Gino actually walking away. Vashnas herself said nothing, but merely played with a strange little silver disk that she seemed to value highly.

  As they drew closer to World's End, they saw even stranger things. The most notable were strange bird-like creatures that were vaguely humanoid in appearance. Their feathers were in every color imaginable, from the brightest of red to the darkest of black, and everything in between. They did not fly low enough for Kinker to see them in detail, but he admired their beauty nonetheless.

  “They are the bird children,” said Vashnas in response to an unasked question. “Children and followers of the gods. Like the singing leapers, they live only around World's End. They have no reason to go anywhere else.”

  “What are they like?” said Jenur, looking up at the bird children as they flew by overhead.

  “Stinky, dirty, and not nearly as fabulous as they look,” said Vashnas.

  Kinker looked at her in surprise. “Did you have a bad experience with them or something?”

  “They tossed me off World's End when I was banished,” Vashnas said, her hands wrapped tightly around the ship's railing. “They did it rather gleefully, too.”

  The bird children kept their distance, although a few of the braver ones swooped in every now and then, like they had never seen mortals before. Sometimes they screeched or chirped like normal birds, but Kinker could not understand a word they said. He just watched in awe as one bird swooped down, plucked a fish out of the water, and flew back to join its companions that soared among the clouds.

  They were not the only seagoing vessel on the waters around World's End, however. Scattered like pebbles in a park were dozens of small, one- or two-person fishing boats, lines cast, that reminded Kinker of the kind used by fisherman back on Destan. On these boats were what appeared to be men and women, but he could not tell for sure because they, like the bird children, kept their distance.

  “Who are they?” said Jenur, pointing at the people on the fishing boats.

&nb
sp; One of the people, a man in a blue shirt, waved at their ship as it passed as Vashnas said, “Katabans. Like Hanarova back on Stalf. “

  “There are katabans here?” said Jenur. “Do they live on World's End?”

  “Of course,” said Vashnas. “All katabans live on World's End, except when summoned elsewhere by gods. It is their birthplace and their home. Last time I was here, the streets were full of them.”

  “They seem awfully friendly,” said Kinker, waving back at the man, whose boat they quickly left behind. “Much friendlier than Hanarova ever was.”

  “Yes, and that's what disturbs me,” said Vashnas, staring at a female katabans who was reeling in a large black fish with tentacles in place of eyes. “Kano must have told them to not attack us.”

  “That's good, isn't it?” said Jenur. “I mean, we're really in no shape to fight, considering ... you know.”

  “I know,” said Vashnas. “Still, I would advise none of you to let your guard down around any of these katabans. They can be deceptive and tricky, even when they're friendly.”

  “So what, do you expect them to try to kill us or something all of a sudden?” said Jenur.

  Vashnas shook her head. “I only expect the worst. That is all.”

  A few hours later, the island of World's End itself became close enough for Kinker to see it in some detail. And what he saw astonished him more than anything he had ever seen on this voyage.

  World's End was not only known as the Throne of the Gods for nothing. The city literally appeared to be a giant throne. The buildings were arranged in such a way that the tallest of them scraped the sky and the smallest of them rivaled small mountains in size. Kinker had never seen such huge structures before and he was convinced at first that those were not buildings at all but rather strangely shaped mountains.

  Then Jenur said, “Are those buildings?”

  “Yes,” said Vashnas. “Though they weren't quite so huge back when I was first here. They must have gotten a lot of construction done in the thousands of years since I was here last.”

  “But why would they arrange them to look like a gigantic throne?” said Jenur, scratching her chin. “That seems kind of impractical and unnecessary.”

  “Because the gods, I would think you would have realized by now, are really nothing more than giant show-offs,” said Vashnas. “A giant throne on the edge of the world is quite dramatic, wouldn't you say?”

  “But who are they trying to impress?” said Kinker. “Us?”

  “Or each other,” said Vashnas. “Or both. Even the southern gods tend to suffer from the kind of delusional pride that their northern siblings do.”

  “It's still amazing,” said Kinker. “If I lived in such a city, I'd never leave it.”

  “The gods have to be out and about in the world,” said Vashnas. “It's part of their job. If they never left the city, then the world would be worse off than it is now.”

  Kinker had no argument against that. He just watched as they drew closer to the island, as the buildings that made up the magnificent city grew even larger, towering above them so high that Kinker did not think he would be able to see their tops once he got close enough. Part of him was actually afraid. He wanted to run away. But he had nowhere to go, so he dismissed the feeling as the irrational impulse that it was.

  This voyage is nearly at its end, Kinker thought. Best to see it through, despite whatever may be waiting for us.

  -

  The Iron Wind docked at the northern end in the island, which had a dock that seemed to have been designed with their ship in mind because they managed to lower the ramp down to it with no trouble. This surprised Malock, although he supposed that perhaps the gods or katabans used ships sometimes, which would explain the dock.

  Malock gathered the entire crew onto the top deck, near the ramp, every surviving member of the original fleet that had set out from Carnag months ago. From his count, there were a little over eighty sailors left out of the hundreds that he'd started with. Standing in front of them on the top of the ramp, Malock grimaced at how small the crew was now and how weak and pathetic everyone looked, especially in contrast to the magnificence that was World's End.

  Nonetheless, Malock gestured at the city and said, “My men, my sailors, my crew. Throughout this long, mad voyage, you have all struggled to survive, have been pushed to your limits and beyond. You have faced death, unimaginable pain and loss, dangers of the kind spoken of only in the legends of old, and suffered the loss of a good many friends and fellow sailors. That we made it this far at all, when by all rights we should have perished at some point during this long voyage, is a miracle in itself.”

  None of the crew responded to that little speech. Most of them seemed distracted by the Throne of the Gods, which shone lightly in the sun. Or perhaps they were so worn out from the voyage that even Malock's greatest praise meant nothing to them.

  Either way, Malock had more to say: “I do not know what awaits us in the city itself. Kano has yet to reveal to me why she summoned me, but I do know this: I will not be going into the city alone. Instead, every one of you will get to come with me. There will be no one left behind on this ship, not even someone to act as ship guard. Everyone will come.”

  That got a reaction. Most of the crew began muttering in disbelief among themselves, while Jenur, who was one of the sailors closest to him, said, “You're kidding.”

  “I kid not,” said Malock, shaking his head. “I've decided that all of you deserve a chance to walk upon a land spoken of only in legends. Besides, I would not feel comfortable ending this voyage by myself. I started it with all of you and will end it with all of you. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir!” said the sailors in unison, their tone actually happy for once.

  Malock smiled. “Then follow me and Vashnas. We will lead the way into the city.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  As Malock and Vashnas, walking side by side, led the crew down the ramp and onto the large, well-polished wood dock, Malock glanced over his shoulder at his crew. Most of them were ragged and dirty, even those wearing the extra clothes provided by the Mechanical Goddess, hardly the kind of people you'd expect to see in a city meant for gods and spirits, but he knew he could trust each and every one of them if he ever found himself in danger.

  That was why he was bringing them all along. He was not sure why, but ever since World's End came into view, Malock had the strangest feeling that he was never going to see Carnag or the rest of the Northern Isles ever again. While he was not afraid of World's End, he had no intention of staying or dying here. He had a throne to inherit back home, after all. All he wanted to do here was find out what Kano had summoned him for and nothing else.

  So Malock brought along the entire crew because he hoped that maybe their numbers would keep him safe. He realized this was foolish. After all, any one of the gods could easily destroy them all without even trying. Only he and Vashnas were safe from harm, being as they were Chosen Ones, but the rest of the crew wasn't and if the gods did not want them entering their city ...

  Malock chose not to dwell on that. He walked with a confident stride, his head held high, and his chest out. He did not want to make his men despair, especially when they were so close to finishing their voyage. As always, he would have to put on a brave face for them, even if he did not feel brave.

  The path they took was a simple cobblestone path, which wound through a small jungle around the walls of the city. Overhead, the branches of the trees extended above them, like the trumpets of the royal trumpeters back home or perhaps more like miserable guards who were making sure no one escaped. Both images were appropriate.

  It took them maybe ten minutes, if even that, to reach the outer walls of the city. The walls appeared to be made out of the purest iron, high and thick and shiny. The walls were not quite as tall as the buildings they protected (which made Malock wonder why they had been built at all), but they were nonetheless imposing, carved a
s they were with images of all of the gods of Martir. The images were carved so compactly that making out one god among the many was almost impossible, but Malock did see a tiny naked man with a leaf covering his penis among them, a spitting image of the Loner God. That did not improve his mood much.

  The crew of the Iron Wind stood before a gigantic set of gates. The gates were too huge and thick for any of them to move. Even if the entire crew worked together, Malock doubted they could even so much as budge the gates.

  Nonetheless, he confidently walked up to the gates and knocked on them like he would any door. That may have seemed a strange thing to do, but he had no idea how else to announce their presence, as he did not see any guards or gatekeepers who he could talk to.

  Almost without warning, the gates began to open inwards. They made no creaking sounds, did not even appear to have hinges. They opened silently and gracefully and once they were opened wide enough, the crew began walking again, entering the massive city of the gods.

  Stepping through the gates of the Throne was not at all like entering a mortal city. When Malock stepped over the threshold, a power unlike any he had ever known washed over him. It was almost enough to drive him to his knees, so unexpected and so powerful it was. He had never experienced anything quite like it before. It was like being frisked by a guard, but he saw no hands and there were no guards in his sight.

  He looked at Vashnas, who didn't seem bothered by it, and said, “Did you feel—?”

  Vashnas nodded. “Visitors to the Throne are always examined by the gods themselves. What you felt was the gods' collective presence washing over us. And unless I am highly mistaken, I do believe we have just passed.”

  Malock looked at his men. They had all passed over the threshold without trouble, but they looked disturbed. Many of them were scratching their bodies, like they had been bitten by bugs.

  “What would have happened if the gods did not approve of us?” Malock asked.

  Vashnas smiled grimly. “Oh, we would have all burst into flames. Or at least the others would have. You and me would probably have just been crippled for life.”