“Yes, you are going on a boat, boil, and yes, you will,” Hedley replied. “Yes, you will indeed. Good luck, Sirius Sinister. I will you see you soon.” With that he walked away and disappeared into the morning mist.
Chapter 13
The crew of the good ship Patty’s Folly were all mortals except for the captain, who, judging by his long greenish-brown hair and eyes as brown as the newly tilled earth, had at least some elf in him. They moved as one casting off, and the Patty’s Folly left the dock and the Isle of Man behind, heading out upon the Irish Sea, heading south. “Good riddance,” I said out loud, watching the island disappear behind us.
“You can say that again,” said the boil. “But I don’t like boats.”
The captain came up to me while the boil was chattering. “You seem to have some talking hose,” he said. “Hedley told me about your little problem. Do not worry about it. This crew, though they are mortals, are plenty used to strange sights, or sounds.”
“Who are you calling strange, fat boy?” my breeches stated.
“Boil,” I said, “please don’t get us thrown off this boat, unless you can swim well.”
“Nooooo!” the boil screamed. “Not the ocean. Anything but the ocean. I’ll be good, I promise.” And with that the boil went silent.
“My name is Seamus,” the captain said. “You are the one they call Sinister?”
“Yes,” I replied. “You can call me Sirius. How do you know of me?”
“I am a quarter water elf on my father’s side,” he answered. “My grams is a full elf, and a friend of hers recently was at Immortal Divorce Court, attending to some family business. Apparently you are quite the celebrity there. It was something about your dog?”
I laughed. “That is a long story, my friend. I’ll be sure to tell it to you on the way to London. What route are we taking?”
Seamus sniffed at the wind and looked troubled for a moment. “That is odd,” he said without explaining his concern. “We are going southwest toward the coast of merry old England. We will come around past Holyhead, Bardsey Island, Ramsey Island, and then once we hit Skomer Island, we will be able to blend in with the traffic coming into Bristol. From there it is just a short ride to London. It shouldn’t take us long at all.”
Our small sloop cut through the calm sea like a hot knife through butter, and I took a spot on the deck out of the way of the crew, and reveled in the feeling of the wind in my hair and the rise and swell of the waves. I heard a small moan of anguish and wondered where it was coming from, and then felt wetness running down my leg. The boil was apparently seasick. Grimacing, I wadded up a cloth and nonchalantly rammed it down the back of my breeches. “Easy now, boil,” I said. “This journey will be but a short one. I’ll have you back on dry land in a jiffy.”
Seamus came by with a piece of bread and some cheese, which I gladly took and devoured like it was a hunk of dripping bloody meat. Soon I would be back on dry land, and soon I would have some exceedingly rare meat from some four-legged frolicker. I really missed Garlic, thinking of the many kills we had together. What was she doing now with my girls? I comforted myself thinking that she was watching over them, and thus, I was participating in the raising of my daughters through my pup after all.
We passed from the Irish Sea into the Atlantic and Patty’s Folly swung well wide of Skomer Island, where the character of the ocean changed, and what was once a smooth and, dare I say, fun ride got a whole lot rougher.
“We are catching the will of the open ocean, as bonny Ireland no longer shelters us with her fair skirts,” Seamus said with a grin as he exhorted the crew to battle through waves that sent Patty’s Folly deeper and deeper into the troughs only to rise up again undaunted against the might of the ocean. Finally, as the boat made the turn for Bristol, the waves lessened to an eerie calm, and the wind simply stopped, causing the sails to hang limp and powerless. “What madness is this?” Seamus exclaimed to no one, peering back at the open Atlantic, and sniffing the air. The crew grew nervous as their captain reached over the bow and swished a hand in the calm water and sniffed again.
“Mistress is coming,” the boil screamed from my breeches, now wet with the boil’s tears. “She is coming to kill us.”
“Easy now, boil,” I said. “She had her sport with us and surely has moved on to greener pastures.”
Seamus stared at a massive black cloud that loomed high on the horizon, and the wind began picking up as the sea once more came to life. Thunder boomed, and an eerie green lightning illuminated the cloud for a moment, giving it the appearance of a ghastly skull. “Pray tell,” he said, “who is this mistress your breeches speak of?”
“The Winter Witch,” I said.
Seamus cursed under his breath and made every single mystic sign he knew, then added a few more he made up on the spot just in case they would help. “Edrick never told me that she was part of this journey,” he said. “If I had known that, I would have charged him a lot more gold!” A lightning bolt shot out of the cloud and struck the ocean, and a great wave formed, heading straight for our craft. “Like a whole lot more gold!”
We sat dead in the water, but rushing in front of the wave blew a great wind filling our sails and turning the ocean into an angry mass of foam and waves. “Hold on,” Seamus said, leaping for the rudder as his crew expertly trimmed the sails. “I am going to need your strength, my fanged friend,” he said. “We must stay the course. If this windstorm spins us sideways, and a wave hits us broadside—we are done for!”
The wind howled and ripped what sail remained on our masts into tattered shreds. I could no longer hear the whine of the boil over the fury of the ocean. I stood with Seamus and held the rudder fast, as waves crashed over the bow of the Patty’s Folly onto the deck and into our position, threatening to send us into the angry sea. And each time we came up from the depths of a stormy trough, the wind seemed to howl ever angrier. Lightning bolts sizzled and crackled all around us, and one great wave thrust Seamus and I together. “What did you do to that witch to piss her off so damn bad anyway?” he shouted above the din of the storm.
“I plowed the field with her right before I married my second wife,” I said.
“Like, right before, right before?” Seamus exclaimed.
I nodded, hanging on to the rudder for dear life. “Yeah, I kind of just made it to the church on time.”
Seamus looked up at the dark cloud that was nearly upon us, and we both could see amidst the swirling darkness the sneering angry face of the Winter Witch. “We are surely doomed,” he said. “Or, more accurately, your getting fucked is going to get us fucked. Like completely fucked . . .”
A lightning bolt shot out from the cloud and struck our main mast, snapping it in two and setting the bottom half on fire. If the storm did not get us, the fire surely would, as the crew scrambled to put out devilish green flames that grew larger by the second, feeding off the rain of hate coming from the cloud. I did not think I could drown, and Seamus, being part water elf would survive, but his crew of mortals would surely die. I only had one choice.
I stepped back from the rudder. “If it is me you want, it is me you shall get, witch,” I screamed to the furious firmament, and dove from the ship into the frothing sea, powering deep into the ocean with the broad strokes of a youth spent on Sa Dragonera. The water felt so cold I half expected to see ice floes. No matter, my lungs were strong and my purpose was true. I had to pull the attention of the Winter Witch away from the Patty’s Folly. I surfaced a good distance away from the ship, and caught on to the remnants of another ship whose passengers had not been so lucky. My heart felt a deep sorrow for my actions with the Winter Witch, because her rage at me had killed many innocents. If only I had walked away from that tavern, these people would be alive. A child’s shoe floated by me, and the salt of my tears joined that of the ocean. A wave thrust me high into the air, and far off I could see the Patty’s F
olly at the edge of the storm as the Winter Witch sought to find me. “Bitch,” I shouted into the wind. “I am here. Bring whatever foulness you have, but it is not going to be enough to slay me this day!”
Down from the cloud came a streak of lightning growing larger and larger as it neared the ocean, slamming into the waves and sending a geyser skyward. I rode a wave high in the air again, and saw bearing toward me the large white dorsal fin of a shark. It was a massive creature easily as long as the Patty’s Folly, with a mouth that could swallow several men whole at once, but it only had eyes for me. Green lightning shot up and down its body, churning the ocean as it came for me. I would not survive in the caustic acid of that demonic gullet and dove down deep, swimming with all my might.
Suddenly, up ahead I saw the hull of another ship, and stopped swimming. There would be no more mortal souls lost today on my account. The shark changed course, and instead of bearing straight for me, it headed right for the ship, and its purpose was obvious. One strike to the hull, and it would surely be breached. Hundreds would die unless I acted. I looked around frantically for some sort of flotsam that would serve as a weapon, but saw none. A voice called from the ship, and someone hurled a golden sword to me, which I snatched right out of the air.
I had speared many a fish off Sa Dragonera, but the beast bearing down on the ship was no guppy. I would have a single chance to stab it through one of its dastardly green eyes and hope that the blade would reach the brain. But to get the leverage to do that, I would have to be practically sitting on top of the shark. I took a deep breath and dove down into the depths as the storm currents buffeted me to and fro in the water, and the white death appeared. I was in perfect position, but then a swift current pulled me back into the shark’s path. I saw nothing but teeth and death, and twisted my body and thrust at the shark at the same time. I felt sharp teeth rake down my back and legs, opening deep wounds that sent red tendrils of my blood all around me. But my aim had been true, and crimson spewed out of the shark’s eye, joining my own blood as I held on for dear life, driving the sword deeper and deeper into its primeval brain. I did not have much breath left, and I could feel my strength ebbing with the effect of the wounds and the icy grip of the North Atlantic. The shark began its death roll, spinning deeper and deeper, the pressure tearing most of the remaining air from my lungs.
I kicked away from the shark, straining for the surface, but all I saw was an eerie white light. I had swum in the wrong direction and had gone ever deeper, and the Winter Witch had apparently found me. Her white arms reached out to grab me, and I struggled away, spitting out my last breath in the process. I would die before I would yield to her. A small, white hand found my own, and I felt not the cold chill of the Winter Witch but something else entirely. Amidst a swirl of bubbles, warm lips found my own, and I stopped struggling, realizing I could breathe, and found myself eye to eye and lips to lips with a mermaid.
With a flick of her powerful golden tail, the mermaid propelled us under water, away from the dead shark and the boat filled with innocents. The sharp sting of the wounds on my back and legs told me they were quite serious. I would heal, but I had to get out of the icy cold of the Atlantic that, moment by moment, was stealing the life from me. If I became fish food, there was no possible way I could recover from that. The mermaid grabbed my other hand, and we zipped through the depths, partners in an aquatic dance, with our hands gripping tightly and our bodies thrust together as my legs hung useless, her tail thrashing the water between them. In spite of the dire circumstances, I could not help but enjoy the feel against my own cold body of the full breasts and amazingly soft, warm skin that was the color of the whitest sea foam that belonged to the lovely golden-haired creature that was saving me.
Finally we surfaced, and I reluctantly broke our kiss, staring deep into eyes bluer than any perfect sky I had ever seen and that sparkled with an unyielding intensity. Curly golden hair framed her beautiful face and then cascaded over her shoulders. The conventional wisdom was that mermaids were quite unattractive, even ugly. I remembered Oliver’s story of his encounter with an attractive lady of the sea, and realized that either he and I had met up with the only two beautiful mermaids on the entire earth, or conventional wisdom was dead wrong. I grimaced as the cold air struck my skin, and pain shot down my legs, and she pulled me close once more. “Thank you,” I said. “Why did you help me?”
“You could have saved yourself,” my rescuer said. “That shark would have been unable to resist all the mortals in the water and would have feasted on them for hours. From the looks of you and your uncommon ability to swim, even for an immortal, you surely would have made it to the coastline. So why did you help them?”
I shook my head. A boom of thunder drew my attention to the edge of the storm, which seemed to be changing direction to intercept us. “My actions have caused me to have much mortal blood on my hands,” I answered. “I simply could not bear the thought of any others losing their lives because of me.”
“That is quite noble,” she said, smiling in approval. “And that was no ordinary shark. That was a familiar of the Winter Witch.”
“I know,” I said. “Sure would like to know who threw me that sword I stuck into her familiar. He deserves a thank you as well.”
“Not he—she,” the mermaid said.
“You, you were on that boat!” I exclaimed. “But, who are you?”
She did not answer, for the swell of the waves had suddenly picked up, and the storm was drawing closer by the second. Green lightning crackled, and the sky swirled in a menacing fashion. “The witch is coming for us with full hurricane force,” the mermaid said anxiously. “Our only hope is to make it to Lundy Island.”
I nodded, remembering Lundy Island was just off the coast of Devon. Had the storm pushed us that far south of the channel into Bristol? What little adrenaline I had left began to ebb. Now, I only felt pain. “I don’t have much strength left,” I said. “How far is it?”
“Not far,” she said. She drew me into her embrace once more and pushed her lips against mine. I gasped, losing myself in their sweet softness. Her hands gripped my face, and we kissed deeper, and despite my condition, I felt myself responding. But then she grabbed my hands, and we dove beneath the waves, racing the Winter Witch’s hurricane to Lundy Island.
I closed my eyes and held on to my aquatic angel as best as I could. I had lost a lot of blood, and even for a vampire with a constitution like mine, I was in trouble. The Celtic Sea was being fairly churned by the hurricane as it sought to overtake us, but the mermaid was not to be denied, and soon we were in the shallows of the island. The closer we came to the water’s surface, the rougher our passage became. The hurricane was nearly upon us. All I could hear was the howling scream of the wind even from just below the surface.
But the Winter Witch would not have us this day, as the mermaid swam us into a small grotto at the base of a cliff. Back we swam into the darkness, where the waves and wind could not follow, and slowly the sound of the wind faded. Blindly, the mermaid navigated through a narrow passage into a lagoon and, with a kick of her tail, dislodged a crude lever that dropped a stone over the passage, thwarting the storm surge. All was quiet but for the light wash of gentle waves upon a sandy beach lit with a warm blue glow from strange underwater plants. She pulled me through this undersea garden and pushed me gently onto the beach.
I felt the soft touch of sand on my face and reached out with my hands to clench two dry fistfuls in victory. But I lay groggy in the grotto, with the mermaid embracing me and warming my body as it healed from the wounds of the shark familiar—safe at last.
I awoke facedown in the sand and turned to find the mermaid lying in the water beside me. She smiled comfortingly and swished her tail in the water at my feet. My body was wrapped in oddly sweet-smelling, brown seaweed from head to toe. It was warming and as comfortable as the softest goose down. The chamber in which I lay was still lit f
rom the warm blue glow of the underwater plants. “Is the Winter Witch gone?” I asked.
“Even she cannot wield power over the elements forever. She has lost control of the storm, and all of England is feeling the brunt of her desire to see you dead. You must have really got on her bad side,” the mermaid replied.
“Yes, I sure did,” I replied, offering nothing else to this delightful girl. Took the Winter Witch from her backside was a more apt description, but I remained silent, taking stock of my wounds. Strangely, I felt absolutely fine. I reached over my right shoulder and peeled back a layer of seaweed and found my skin bore absolutely no sign of the jagged wound I recalled being there from the shark.
“After such a colossal use of her magic, we are not likely to see her for a long while,” the mermaid said.
“No one has infinite power, right?” I said.
“Even a heroic vampire like you,” she replied. “If not for me, I am not sure you would have survived.”
“I would have,” I said, not so confident that I would have. “But, all the same I am glad the Winter Witch is not all-powerful.”
“She will lick her wounds for some time. How are you feeling?”
I turned on my side still bound in my seaweed blanket and was taken aback at how incredibly beautiful this mermaid was to my well-trained eye. I stole a quick glance at her breasts and taut stomach. I had been with many a woman, but this creature of the sea could catch any man she wanted, hook, line, and sinker. “Surprisingly good thanks to you, considering the shark nearly had me for a meal,” I said. “This seaweed is miraculous. I have never seen it before in all my travels. Where did you come by it?”
The mermaid smiled. “Now that is my secret, and the ocean does not like giving up its mysteries to those that walk on land,” she said. “Rest assured, without it, you would be looking a whole lot less pretty back there than you are now. That shark had taken a nice bite out of your back and shoulders, and well, half of your backside was nearly ripped off, you know!”
My Ex-Wife Said Go to Hell Page 24
