Shadows of Ivory

by T L Greylock

  Eska could feel her patience thinning. “Are you questioning my judgment?” Something in Gabriel’s eyes retreated and Eska softened her voice, not wanting to drive him away. “I understand the reason for your concern, and I can appreciate it. But Perrin has given no cause for such suspicion. Indeed, he saved my life. And if you do not believe I watch Eden San-Germain carefully, then perhaps I was wrong to bring you here.”

  Gabriel’s gaze dropped and he breathed out a sigh of defeat.

  “Gabriel, I don’t know what I would do without you. Cedric may be the right hand of Firenzia Company, but you are our spine. Please. Let’s not argue.”

  “I trust you, my lady.”

  “And you believe I take your concern into account?”

  “Yes.”

  Eska squeezed his hands. “We can do this.” Gabriel gave a nod, and then left Eska in the privacy of her tent to change into the diving silks. She undressed, then, taking a deep breath, she turned to the small table that held the string-wrapped parcel from Eden, her gaze searching out of habit for the familiar figure of the fox sculpture of Nehar. Its absence seemed a weight on her lungs and she understood then that she was afraid. The day was warm, but as Eska lifted the silks and they brushed over her bare skin, she shivered.

  She was still standing there, the silks draped over her arms, her back to the tent flap and the lake, when his voice, made distant by the canvas between them, reached her.

  “Eska. It’s time.”

  Eden’s words prickled her skin. Afterwards, she could not have said how long she stood there, how long he waited, how long the silence lasted. She knew only the sound of her heart pounding between her ribs and a deep desire for sunlight, made all the more fierce by the knowledge that it was the cold waters of Lake Delo that awaited her outside the tent.

  She heard him push aside the tent flap, heard him hesitate, then step inside, heard his feet cover the ground between them, heard the quiet inhale that came a moment before he touched her.

  His hand was warm and firm on her back and she felt the chill begin to ebb from her skin. Neither of them spoke as his fingers brushed up her spine and settled at the base of her neck. He applied a hint of pressure and Eska found herself leaning into his touch.

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  Eska smiled a little. “You still don’t know me very well.” A sudden shiver betrayed her.

  Both of Eden’s hands came to rest on her shoulders. “What are you afraid of?”

  Eska hesitated, trying to organize her thoughts. “I have done free dives, but always in clear ocean waters and not very deep. I do not have the lung strength or training to truly be a diver.”

  “That doesn’t quite answer the question.” He began to massage her shoulders.

  “I try not to succumb to irrational fears.”

  Silence. Then, “I don’t think a fear of drowning is irrational.”

  “I didn’t say I had a fear of drowning,” Eska said. And yet her voice was very small.

  “Eska, look at me.”

  She turned slowly, his hands drifting across her skin as she did so, until they were face to face. His palms settled on her shoulders once more.

  “I will not deny that this thing we mean to do is dangerous. You already know that. But I promise to keep you safe.”

  Eska’s gaze lingered on his for a moment and then she stepped fully into his arms.

  “I could say something about how promises like that are futile,” Eska murmured into his collarbone, “how we can never truly protect another person.”

  “You could.” Eden’s fingers moved up the back of her neck and into her hair. His other arm wrapped around her torso, his hand coming to rest at her waist. “And then I could say something about how we move through life like solitary icebergs, that we are nothing more than shells containing muscle and bone and sinew, that loneliness is our natural state. But that would be rather bleak, don’t you think?”

  Eska released him and looked up at his face once more. She smiled. “And then I’d say that such pontificating must surely be an excuse to keep me naked for longer.”

  Eden laughed. “This is probably not incorrect.” He cupped her chin. “Are you ready?”

  Eska nodded and began to slip into the silks. Eden helped her do the closures at the front and back of the neck opening, then stood back to assess the fit. A short nod told Eska it was acceptable. She turned to her small chest of belongings and dug down to the bottom to retrieve a dagger in a holster. This she buckled around her calf, then turned to Eden and presented him with the modified belt she had asked Gabriel to alter to carry a crowbar, a hammer, and a chisel.

  “I would wear it, but the fit will be more secure on you, if you don’t mind,” she said.

  He accepted the belt and fastened it around his hips. Their gazes met and then, with a shared nod, they emerged from the tent.

  Eska’s small crew was waiting at the edge of Lake Delo. Bastien, his trousers rolled to his knees, held the wide prow of the rowboat she had procured the day before. Inevra held two bags of fishing net each containing half a dozen flat stones larger than one of Eska’s hands. Gabriel, Eska noted, was eyeing the stones dubiously. At Eden’s word, Inevra waded out into the lake and placed the weighted nets in the bottom of the rowboat, among the seemingly endless coils of hose that would carry air to their lungs at the bottom of the lake. The diving helmets were just visible between the bench seats, their copper crowns gleaming in the sun.

  Eska stepped into the water and wiggled her toes inside the silks, trying not to think about how little time would pass before she would no longer be able to consider the water temperature refreshing. Bastien held the rowboat steady while Eska and Eden climbed in. The Regatta Master took up the oars as Bastien, charged with monitoring the air hoses from the surface, joined them.

  “Be safe, my lady,” Gabriel called out. Eska acknowledged him with a wave and a smile as the other crewmembers chimed in.

  Eden rowed in silence, though his gaze never strayed far from Eska. For her part, Eska found herself watching the water slide by. Bastien, tucked in between the diving helmets, could not stop touching the hoses, she noted, and casting nervous glances at her.

  The Regatta Master’s smooth strokes carried them southwest across the lake until he abruptly ceased rowing roughly a third of the distance to the far shore. For a moment, there was only the sound of water dripping from the oars.

  “We’re here,” he said.

  Without hesitating, Eska knelt in the bottom of the boat and lifted her diving helmet over her head. With Bastien’s help, she pulled the straps tight and fastened the buckles, then secured the weighted net to a hook in the leather. She waited as Eden did the same and reminded Bastien to keep the hoses from tangling. He then knelt in front of her and took her silk-covered hands in his.

  “Let the stones do the work. Just breathe deeply. We’ll be down there before you know it,” he said, pressing one of the glass orbs into Eska’s palm. It flickered sleepily and then began to glow with growing intensity. Eden squeezed her other hand, prompting Eska to look up and meet his gaze. The panes of thick glass between them did nothing to diminish the intensity in his expression. “Keep sight of me at all times.”

  There was nothing left to say, nothing to keep her from the water. Eden released her hand.

  Eska grasped the bag of stones by its cord and perched on the rowboat’s rail. Eden mirrored her movement. Bastien took up the rower’s seat, but Eska’s vision tunneled and all she could see was Eden’s diving helmet and face. For a moment, her breath caught in her lungs as though the lake were already swallowing her, but then the Regatta Master of Lake Delo smiled and Eska’s heart beat once more and the fear filling her chest warmed to something that might have been joy.

  She let herself fall back into Lake Delo’s cold embrace.

  ***

  The speed with which the stones carried Eska below the surface might have been terrifying were it not for the mesmerizing
color of the water as it rushed by—shades of blue and green caught between the shafts of sunlight above warring with the black shadows below. Whether she forgot to breathe because of the sheer beauty around her or because of the cold, Eska wasn’t sure, but at last she forced a breath into her lungs, both relieved to find the hose functional and hesitant to rely on it. She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering Eden’s advice, and breathed as deeply and slowly as she could.

  When she opened them, the water was a shade darker, the orb in her hand a more brilliant gold. She caught sight of Eden a short distance away and just below her, his heavier frame carrying him to the bottom at a slight faster pace.

  The bottom came abruptly, looming up from the depths, and Eden unhooked the net of stones from his torso, letting them fall away, and signaled to Eska to do the same. The sudden decrease in weight caused her descent to slow significantly, and for a moment she felt as though her body were suspended in a substance far more viscous than water. Then Eden pointed along the lake bottom to Eska’s right and they began to swim ensconced within the golden halo of the orbs.

  They swam side by side, the vast darkness around them disturbed only by tall weeds rippling silently as they brushed past.

  Eska saw the vault before Eden, her hand involuntarily reaching out to grab his arm. A nebulous shape, but one undoubtedly not natural to the lakebed, the bronze gleaming in the soft illumination of the orbs. As they drew closer, she saw it stood at an angle, one corner propped up by a rocky protrusion, the opposite corner embedded in the mud.

  Eska swam slowly around it, taking in the level of decay caused by the unyielding force of time and water. To her dismay, the vault’s door was on the side tilted toward the lakebed, making access more difficult. Worse, the door could only be opened a short distance before the corner would lodge in the mud, but she felt her heart beat a little faster as she caught sight of the unmistakable design stamped into the corroded bronze door: the tri-horned griffin, the symbol of the Alescu dynasty, raging at Eska there in the depths of Lake Delo, just as the Alescuan kings and queens had raged across so much of the known world.

  Eska put her hand against the bronze, thrilled by the knowledge that she was touching something only fish had laid eyes on for nearly four hundred years. Eden swam next to her, careful to keep his breathing hose from crossing with Eska’s, and held his orb close to the vault’s handle and lock mechanism. The light revealed the corrosion to be far less significant. Everyone knew, of course, that the Alescuan kings and queens had delved deep into the study of their Carrier gifts, creating wonders and terrors alike. Strengthening metal to withstand the elements would have been a minor accomplishment, a child’s trick, and yet the waters of Lake Delo seemed to grow darker and colder around Eska as she understood what she was seeing. There was no telling what other deterrents had been worked into the door to stand against assault—by Carrier or other means.

  Eska freed the knife from the holster around her calf and began to clean around the lock, removing a layer of sediment and detritus. Eden held both orbs within one palm, the other resting steadily on Eska’s back to help keep her still in the water. When she was finished, she put one hand on the handle of the vault, glanced at Eden with a shrug and a grin, and pushed down.

  Nothing happened, precisely as she expected, but the knowledge that the vault was well and truly locked made her all the more certain there was something inside. She wiggled the tip of the knife into the keyhole and tried turning it. The mechanism moved slightly, but she hit firm resistance in both directions after no more than a few degrees of rotation. Replacing the knife in her holster, she took up the chisel from Eden’s belt and inserted the tip between the vault door and the sidewall, then, with a short, sharp motion, rapped once with the hammer.

  The sound, muffled and eerie, reverberated in Eska’s helmet. She set to work building a rhythm, but the bronze gave no indication of weakness. Using gestures, Eden offered to try, and Eska let him, the hammering dissipating into the water like the ringing of strangely deadened, mournful bells.

  As Eden worked the lock, Eska tried to pry at the corner of the door with the crowbar, iron scraping against bronze, both metals protesting, her frustration growing as her exertion increasingly appeared to be futile. Below her, Eden returned the chisel and hammer to his belt, then held up a hand. Eska frowned, uncertain why he would want her to stop, but watched as he leaned as close to the door as he could, one hand braced against the edge of the vault, the other suspended a forearm’s length away from the lock, his fingers crooked unnaturally.

  It took Eska a moment longer than it ought to have for her to realize what he was doing—after all, using water to crack a lock was not a method that would have occurred to her.

  She held her breath. Eden’s fingers moved slightly and the water between his palm and the lock shifted as though under heavy pressure from an invisible force. Tiny bubbles surged between his fingers as he began to turn his wrist. Eska put a hand against the door, sensed nothing. For the first time she could remember, she was aware of the faintest desire to feel what a Carrier felt.

  A prick of pain stung her elbow just as Eden shuddered below her. Paying it no attention, she brushed at the back of her arm impatiently, bobbling the two orbs of golden light. She caught them, her focus entirely still on Eden, whose hand flexed and strained.

  The vault groaned. The water around Eden frothed. And then the Regatta Master’s faint and muffled cry of triumph came to Eska. He beamed up at her, grabbing her wrist to pull her down to the lock’s level. Her breath coming hard and fast in her helmet, Eska took up both orbs in one hand, then placed her other on the handle of the vault. Hardly daring to hope, she pushed down. It gave way.

  The vault yawned open, the edge of the door coming to rest in the lakebed. Silt and muck bloomed up, obscuring her view of the interior. When the cloud settled, Eska extended her arm through the opening, willing the orbs to illuminate the furthest corners. Her breath caught—there, somewhere deep in the gloom, a faint glimmer of gold, spied by the light of her orbs.

  The second sting of pain struck her, followed quickly by a third. Tearing her eyes from her prize, she put her hand to her waist, feeling something small and sharp protruding from her flesh and silks. She brought her fingers to her face and saw a tiny smear of blood drift away into the water. Eden watched her movement, his face creasing with worry and then pain as a fourth stinger embedded itself in his forearm. Eska twisted in the water, her heart racing ahead of her lungs as she fought to control her breathing, aware that panic could likely lead to death.

  Eden’s hand grabbed her and spun her back to face him. His attention was fixed on a point above their heads and Eska, dread filling her stomach, raised her gaze.

  The gills were the first thing she comprehended. Great heaving slits along a massive underbelly, six of them, pulsing to reveal a red interior that glowed far brighter than the orbs in Eska’s hand.

  The creature curled and uncurled its long body but made no other move, waiting, no doubt, to see what the strange things invading its territory would do next. It looked down at them with flat black eyes set in a scaled, bird-like face, the snout tapering to a point that would easily skewer the soft flank of an unsuspecting otter or the belly of a plump podfish—or human, for that matter.

  Eden’s fingers pressed harder on her arm and Eska would have glanced at him to see what he wanted to communicate—would have if not for the fact that the creature chose that moment to open its mouth.

  The lower jaw unhinged, held to the upper by thin membranes, until it gaped at them. It appeared to be toothless—but then, it didn’t need teeth when it had the ability to spit needles.

  Which is precisely what it did. Not a lone stinger. A hailstorm.

  Eden lunged for the shelter offered by the nearest corner of the vault, Eska scrambling after him, pressing herself between the bronze door and the lakebed. Darts stung her leg, more than she could count, her eyes filling with tears at the pain, her ch
est heaving inside the heavy contraption. Eden caught up the copper of her helmet in his hands and made her look him in the eye. He gave her a nod, then glanced down at the faint cloud of blood around Eska’s lower body. The left leg of the diving silks was in shreds, a few of the needle-like stingers embedded in her calf muscle. Eden poked his head around the corner of the vault and indicated to Eska that the creature was still hovering above. They both glanced down at the orbs Eska carried and she knew they weighed the same choice in their minds: if they broke the orbs, which were already dimming under the influence of the cold water, they might have a chance to steal away in the dark—but she could see even the Regatta Master of Lake Delo was not overeager to forego the comfort of the golden glow, and there was no telling how keen the creature’s eyesight was.

  Eden took another quick glance around the vault and gestured that the creature was slowly swimming closer. Eska risked a look for herself and saw the thing coiling its way through the water, the gills opening and closing, the red glow spreading an eerie light through the deep blue.

  Eska thrust the orbs close to the glass of Eden’s helmet, causing him to lean back. She nodded furiously, trying to convey her thoughts, and he returned the nod and raised the crowbar and the chisel, indicating he understood his role. Eden placed his free hand on her shoulder, his touch faint through the heavy leather, and then without another moment’s hesitation, swam around the opposite side of the vault, disappearing into the dark.

  Eska held one of the orbs around the near corner and waved her hand, hoping to draw the creature’s attention long enough for Eden to circle around and approach from the rear undetected. She took a quick look, just in time to see the creature—so close she could see the water rippling over its gills—open its jaws once more. Flinching inside her silks, Eska dove for safety again, curling herself under the tilted side of the vault. The stingers, pale as bone, rushed through the water like a storm of arrows and vanished in the muddy bottom.