Veritas

by St Clare, Kelly

  “Sink me,” Locks whispered.

  “Aye,” Stubby chorused. “That’s about the size o’ it.”

  Size.

  Everyone turned to peer at Ebba, and she gulped.

  Her voice was strangled. “Can ye feel where the thing is in there?”

  They watched the teeth surge and ebb as the kraken replied with all his mouths open. “Ahh, righ at the back, I fink.”

  “We could use an oar to loosen it? He might be able to work it forward himself after.” Peg-leg got the idea ball rolling.

  “Bang on the outside o’ him?” Locks added.

  Ebba stood and propped a hand on Peg-leg’s shoulder, brushing past the still-upright Jagger. Careful not to jostle Grubby, she balanced in front of the kraken’s mouth and held a hand over her mouth and nose to ward off the smell of decay.

  “Wah’s hapnin?” the kraken asked, swallowing. The back teeth snapped together like clashing cutlasses.

  “Shite,” she muttered, the blood draining from her cheeks.

  There was only one way to get the debris out, and that involved a person small enough to climb inside the creature’s mouth to retrieve it. Her crew ranged in size from Grubby, average pirate height, to Jagger, oversized. No one even came close to her petite stature.

  “Nay,” Plank said.

  It was the first word he’d ventured, and for some reason, hearing his voice annoyed her. She ignored him, addressing the kraken. “The only way to get it out is for me to climb inside o’ yer mouth.”

  “Wah?” the kraken squeaked. ““Cun y’see it?”

  “There be sumpin’ at the back,” Jagger said. He was also standing, squinting into the dark depths of the kraken’s mouths.

  She followed his gaze. “Where?”

  “At the back. Right upper corner.”

  Ebba peered into the darkness. Scanning left to right at the back. He was right, something was shining. All of the kraken’s teeth gleamed but were yellowed. The debris wasn’t yellow, it was—

  “Silver,” she gasped, turning to Jagger.

  He nodded, eyes flashing with excitement. “Aye, Viva. I think we just found the next part.”

  “What’s goin’ on?” Locks demanded.

  Ebba faced the others. “We think the fifth part be wedged in his teeth.”

  The gasps of her fathers and Caspian rang out.

  They’d known the part was moving around. The beam of light had shown them that the kraken had the fifth piece of the root. But when she’d seen him and then questioned him, Ebba had assumed the beam was pointing elsewhere. This was why the immortal had no idea what she was talking about.

  She’d been so shocked after the attack and the sinking of Felicity that she hadn’t put two and two together when the kraken mentioned debris in his teeth.

  Stubby looked into the immortal’s mouth. “I can’t see anythin’.”

  “Ye’re sure, lass?” Peg-leg called over.

  She glanced at Jagger. “Nay, I’m not. Are ye?”

  Jagger pressed his lips together. “It’d make sense, wouldn’t it? Why the part was movin’ around. Even if it only be a theory, we still need to check it ain’t the next part.”

  Her thoughts exactly. And if the debris was a piece of the root of magic, walking into a kraken’s mouth seemed like a breeze compared to all the other things they’d done to win parts. Every other part they’d encountered was guarded by an immortal. Had the kraken eaten the guardian of this piece?

  She wouldn’t put it past him.

  “Whu ah yu sayn?” the immortal asked.

  The creature closed his beak, and whatever blood had remained drained from Ebba’s face at the guillotine sound.

  “We’re thinkin’ the debris in yer teeth be one o’ the parts we’re lookin’ for,” she said to him gravely. “But the thing is that yer teeth be awful sharp, matey. Can ye swear not to swallow or close any o’ yer mouths while I’m inside gettin’ it out?”

  “I swear not to eat you. Hold on,” the kraken said, swallowing several times. “I want to start fresh. Now that you’ve said not to, swallowing is all I can think about.”

  Great.

  Caspian gripped her arm. “No, Ebba. It’s dangerous. I can probably fit in there.”

  She looked away from where the kraken still swallowed and regarded the prince in doubt. “I don’t know what space ye’re lookin’ at. And it be dangerous for anyone goin’ in. I’ll be fine.” She rested a hand on the kraken’s beak and looked into his huge eyes.

  “Ye won’t hurt me, will ye?” she asked, feeling like a mere droplet in front of an entire ocean.

  The kraken darted its eyes to where her hand rested on his beak. He swallowed again, hard, and gazed back at her. “I won’t hurt you, Ebba-Viva Fairisles. I swear it.”

  “There,” Ebba said, casting another look at the prince. “Ye heard him.”

  Peg-leg nudged her on the other side. “Stay in the middle, on his tongue.”

  Well, she was hardly going to roll across the cheeks embedded with teeth.

  “We should wrap her forearms in case she falls off the tongue into the teeth either side. It might help,” Jagger said, studying the kraken. “And sumpin’ around her torso. Unless he swallows her, she should be okay.”

  Should be.

  “Belts,” Stubby said, already drawing his off. He reached around the back of her and looped the belt above the one she had on. He pulled it tight, far beyond the last hole in the leather, and sighed. “Look at ye, ye scrawny wee thing. Ye only need a quarter o’ my belt. Makes me feel right fat, that does.”

  Ebba grinned and scratched his stubbled jaw before leaning into kiss his cheek. “Ye are fat, m’hearty. But ye’re over thirty, so that’s nothin’ odd.”

  “Ah the disillusionments of youth,” Barrels sighed. “I remember, in my teens, believing my life would be truly over by thirty.”

  It would be. Everyone knew that was what happened. Ebba stayed quiet, however—due to the number of over-thirties onboard.

  “Here’s mine,” Locks said.

  His belt was secured above Stubby’s, and then Barrels’ and Grubby’s and Caspian’s. She was covered from hips to the underside of her chest. Jagger leaned in with his belt in hand and smirked at her as he made to secure it above her breasts.

  Peg-leg snatched it away, whacking the pirate with it. “I’ll be doin’ that.”

  Her father secured the last belt higher on her chest, over her heart and breathers.

  “I kind of feel like Marigold,” she said. “Ye know how she’s always trussed up to look skinnier?”

  “Yes, my dear,” Barrels said. “Perhaps don’t mention that when you next see her.”

  Seeing Marigold again seemed optimistic given their current predicament.

  Next, Stubby removed his sashes and wound them about her forearms. He peered into her face. “Ye be careful, lass. Walk on tiptoes, and put those sea legs to good use.”

  “I’ll watch my step,” she said, hoping that was a promise she could keep.

  Squaring her shoulders, Ebba turned to face the kraken.

  “Ready?” the kraken asked.

  What in Davy Jones’ was she about to do?

  Mute, she dipped her head, but her eyes rounded as the creature unlocked its six mouths again, each gate peeling outward in four sections like the petals of a flower. Jagger and Stubby held her hands as she stepped into the kraken’s beak. Once she was stable, she let go of them and stepped forward onto the immortal’s large blue tongue.

  She gulped and glanced left and right at the teeth of his first mouth. Wicked daggers extended from the purple-pink of his gums. Ebba stepped through the first lethal mouth into the small space on the other side.

  “Naooo,” the kraken said. “Tickles.”

  All light disappeared. The creature’s teeth snapped together, ringing high like the hiss of two clashing blades. Ebba shrieked, hearing her fathers’ yells outside. She only had an instant in the stinking pitch black before
the kraken’s mouths opened again.

  Her exhale shook—for good reason. If she’d been a hand-width farther in or out, she’d be mincemeat. And all because the sea monster was ticklish.

  “I’m okay,” Ebba called.

  “Are ye sure?” Peg-leg’s frantic voice echoed back.

  She chose not to answer that and instead took another three steps past the second row of teeth, pausing with bated breath in the relative safety of the next gap. The space here was smaller than the last. If she was unlucky, that trend would continue.

  Although used to fishy aromas, Ebba still gagged at the smell drifting up from the kraken’s throat and stomach. But forcing that to the back of her mind, she hunched and shuffled forward through the next set of teeth.

  Three down.

  The piece had twinkled from the back, but she wasn’t going in any farther than she had to. Ebba glanced around her, squinting to see in the darkening space.

  Nope, not here.

  Hunching, she continued through the fourth mouth. The gap between the kraken’s mouths now wasn’t large enough to protect her if he decided to shut them.

  A cursory glance told her the fifth part wasn’t here either. Not wasting any time, she bent in half to get through the fifth.

  Something arrested her movement. Ebba tried to step forward again, but was jerked to a halt.

  “I’m stuck,” she hissed.

  The third belt around her torso tightened under her chest.

  “Are you hooked on a tooth?” Caspian called in. “Try moving backward a bit.”

  She attempted that, but the teeth were crisscrossed like a rigging made of swords—a way to ensure none of the kraken’s prey escaped, no doubt.

  Ebba shook her head—there was nothing for it. She undid the belt and turned, working the leather off the sharp tooth it had caught upon. The belt slid free and she wrapped it back around her waist, fingers fumbling.

  “Ye may wish to hurry a scant bit, lass,” Peg-leg called. “His eyes are waterin’ sumpin’ fierce.”

  The part had to be in the last mouth.

  She’d need to get onto her hands and knees to get through the last mouth—no easy task with a belt corset on. If the tube wasn’t there, they were screwed because beyond the sixth mouth was the pitch darkness of the kraken’s throat. Her breath echoed, alerting her to the steep drop ahead. And Ebba could imagine the fall into the kraken’s throat would only be interrupted by yellow dagger teeth sticking out in all directions.

  Ebba crawled forward to the sixth mouth, breath held and nose scrunched. Even on her hands and knees, the teeth of the mouth scraped against her back and wrapped arms. She winced as the razor-sharp protrusions scratched the unprotected outsides of her thighs.

  It was too tight.

  She’d have to peer through the sixth mouth instead. She took shallow inhales to limit the effect of the smell and poked her head through the mouth. She glanced left, squinting into the grimy teeth, and skimmed her eyes across the teeth bordering the top, searching for what she’d glimpsed from outside. Nothing.

  Carefully moving her head to peer right, Ebba tried her best to otherwise remain still.

  There.

  Up in the right corner. She’d never fail to recognize that silver glimmer. The part had wedged itself in a small gap formed by three teeth.

  “Shake a leg, Ebba-Viva,” she whispered.

  “Anythin’?” someone called in.

  “Aye,” she replied under her breath, unsure if shouting would tip the precarious balance.

  Ebba reached up, and her fingertips slipped against the pointed end of the tube. It wasn’t enough to get a grip. And it’d need to be yanked out. She really didn’t want to think about what that might make the kraken do.

  She had to get in there.

  Ebba drew her legs underneath her and huddled in a ball to inch through the sixth mouth, pressing her lips together as teeth scraped along the belts covering most of her back.

  Once inside, she very carefully lifted her hand to encircle the tube’s spiked end. Ebba tensed her arm and then halted.

  “Can ye warn him that I’m about to pull hard?”

  Voices murmured, and Caspian’s voice was strained as he answered, “He’s ready.”

  Ebba yanked. Her elbow jerked into the teeth behind her, and she let go. Swallowing her shriek of pain, Ebba took a few deep breaths before sliding her arm off the teeth behind.

  She gasped at the sting, cursing loudly.

  Glancing up again, she cradled her elbow. The tube had barely budged.

  “Flamin’ sod,” she muttered.

  Arm aching, she reached up again and twisted instead. The tube had gotten in there; surely that meant it could come out. Ebba twisted to the left and froze when the resistance lessened. Ebba tugged and the tube slid out a little. She pulled again and gained some more. Ebba settled for small jerks on the object, ignoring the mounting burn in her bleeding arm.

  “Come on,” she grunted.

  Any outside sound was muffled by her harsh breathing. Ebba worked the tube, twisting and pulling, just as fearful of the part sliding free as she was of it being stuck for good.

  Her yanks were weakening, and Ebba dropped her hand to shake strength into her limb.

  The kraken groaned, and Ebba ducked into a ball as the teeth constricted, grazing her thighs and belted hips. She bit back on a scream.

  He settled again, and forcing her aching arm up, Ebba gripped the protruding end of the tube and jerked it roughly.

  This time, her arm didn’t wrench back into teeth. Instead, her entire body toppled with the force of her pull as the tube slid free.

  Doom filling her, Ebba held her arm down against her torso and screwed her eyes closed as she fell against the row of teeth to her right. She cried out in a pitiful wail as multiple teeth entered her side, some of the sharp points finding a way between the stacked belts.

  Dots filled her vision, and Ebba focused on the pain, forcing them away.

  She couldn’t lose consciousness in here.

  Too scared to make a move without taking stock, Ebba peered down. Her heart stopped as she realized she’d dropped the part.

  Felicity was lost because of this silver cylinder.

  There was nothing for it.

  What came next would hurt regardless.

  Ebba gritted her teeth and, with a low moan, pulled herself off the spikes. She swayed in a ball from the throbbing pain, shaking her head to be rid of the ringing in her ears.

  Where was the fifth piece?

  She stilled as the kraken’s tongue moved and the piece began rolling away.

  Abandoning all caution, Ebba threw herself flat as the tube began to tip down the kraken’s throat.

  Twelve

  She let her head sag onto the kraken’s blue tongue, no longer worried about the smell or the teeth or being here. She’d nearly lost the fifth part.

  Her fingers complained at the tightness of her grip on the tube, and the injured muscles at the back of her upper arm ached in protest. Ebba placed the tube sideways between her teeth and began to shuffle backward out of the creature’s many mouths. She didn’t dare slow her pace.

  On her stomach, digging in her bleeding arms and legs, she worked her way back through the sixth and fifth mouths, through the fourth and third mouths.

  Hands grabbed at her feet.

  “Ugh,” the kraken said, back mouths snapping closed. “Augh!”

  Ebba tore the part from her mouth, gripping it tight as she quickened her backward wriggle. “Don’t ye dare!”

  An inch from her face, his second mouth snapped shut.

  “Augh-choo,” roared the kraken.

  The helping hands of her crew were ripped away as Ebba flew from the kraken’s mouth. She was sneezed over her fathers’ heads. Their shocked faces barely registered before Ebba realized the kraken had sneezed her beyond the security of the rowboat.

  Well beyond.

  Ebba broke the surface of the Dynami Sea
with a slap that would have her smarting for days, but the stinging heat was lost as black water closed over her. Bubbles erupted in all directions, stealing her sense of up and down, and still the force of the kraken’s sneeze shot her downward into the abyss.

  She held her breath as her uncontrolled hurtling through the water slowed. Not for a second did she relax her death grip on the weapon part. But she unfroze enough to draw the cylinder to her chest and cradled it tight.

  Peering around, she released a bubble and watched the direction it rose in, and then began kicking in the direction of the surface.

  Something brushed against her leg. She ignored it.

  . . . Probably nothing.

  Please be nothing. The mind played tricks underwater. The whir of a current or floating seaweed grew in the skull to become sharks, rays, and sea monsters.

  A hand clutched her foot.

  Harder to ignore!

  Her chest had tightened already, and Ebba’s remaining air left her breathers in a bubbled expulsion. Her legs worked double-time, yet as she neared the surface, her muscles ached from lack of air. Her heart stormed in her ears. Her kicks became feeble. The thing beneath her grasped her feet in an unbreakable hold.

  Ebba’s chaotic upward surge ground to a halt. Until. . . .

  She was pushed up.

  Not just pushed. As her eyes began to close, her arms were extended and wrapped around two bodies who supported her to the top.

  Ebba broke the surface and dragged in a breath that was half water. She choked and coughed, strung out between who knew what as her body demanded she focus on survival. Spluttering, drawing in painful gasps, she cracked open her eyes, wincing as salt water stung them.

  Blinking, she looked side to side in tired bafflement at the creatures under her arms. Ebba stared. And when the pressure under her feet disappeared and a third creature popped up, Ebba stared some more. At what she believed to be . . . a mermaid.

  Their form resembled Felicity’s sunken figurehead, yet their hair wasn’t smooth and flowing but matted with shells and seaweed and piled atop their heads like one of Pillage’s hairballs. Their skin, where it showed on their faces, arms, and part of their chests, was a faded red like a dying sunset. From the waist down, their bodies were covered in deep red scales the size of Ebba’s dark fingernails.