Souls of the Dark Sea

by A F Stewart

  “That’s very generous of you, milord. The people of Abersythe will no doubt appreciate your kindness.”

  “It is nothing. Those sailors were hard working, decent men and their families deserve to know why they died.”

  A small mewl from Reeves distracted Lord Merrill and Rafe took the opportunity to interject. “We should send warnings out to the other towns and islands. If some new creature is prowling the seas, ship captains should know.”

  “Won’t do no good,” Reeves blurted. “Happens too fast. If it comes, it’ll get ‘em. Nothing they can do.”

  Rafe laid a hand on the sailor’s arm. “Perhaps. But they should still be warned.”

  “The captain’s right, lad.” Lord Merrill spoke softly in a soothing tone. “But you needn’t hear this. I’ll get you home, and leave the captain and Mr. Cooke to sort out their business.” He turned to the harbourmaster. “I’ll be seeing to arrangements for a memorial for the Coral Rose, so I will be talking to you on this matter again, Mr. Cooke. Very soon.” He rose, helping Mr. Reeves to his feet as well. Then he addressed Rafe, “I’ll be talking to you soon as well, Captain. Don’t believe I won’t be in touch. You’ll need help in this, I fear.”

  With a nod farewell, Lord Merrill and Reeves took their leave.

  With the close of the door following their departure, Cooke exclaimed, “Extraordinary! The man’s clearly taken an interest in you, Captain!”

  “So it seems, but why I cannot fathom.”

  Cooke chuckled. “Don’t question your good fortune, sir. Having Lord Merrill on your side is a boon for you, if I may say so.” Cooke hesitated and then continued. “You have my support, sir, but as you know, there is much disquiet swirling about you of late. There’s been talk, whispers of discontent among the townsfolk and the sailors. And the Navy of the Royal Court has openly been disparaging your reputation. Your ship finding the wreck of the Rose will not quell that talk, but the support of Lord Merrill may. The people of Abersythe respect him, and the Navy of the Royal Court will not cross the wishes of a nobleman. You would do well to cultivate his friendship.”

  “I do not begrudge his support or his friendship, but I worry over how far he will involve himself. This will be dangerous business, Mr. Cooke, and not the sort he should be involved in.”

  “On that account, ease your fears. Lord Merrill is a canny fellow. On that, you can rely.” Cooke smiled briefly, before letting out a small sigh. “Let’s get down to business. We both have much to do today.”

  THE HOURS TICKED BY and an unsettled day flowed into night, with the crew of the Jewel and the people of the town settling into slumber. Over Abersythe, the starlit clouds swirled, and the wind blew past the harbourmaster, past the Celestial Jewel wafting far out to sea. The dark waves gently rolled with the shadows bereft of moon while, below the surface, the sea creatures slept to the soft strains of a mother’s lullaby.

  All seemed serene, yet something in the shadows stirred. Someone emerged from an in-between place, from the blackness of a veiled sanctuary. She swept from the folds of the gloom to a corner of a reef, against the silhouette of the Coral Rose shipwreck.

  The ruined boat dwarfed her presence, its shade making her uneasy. Its empty shell somehow felt haunted even though it remained bereft of souls. She wondered at the queasy chill in her blood, in her night’s shadows even as she repressed the guilt tickling at the back of her mind.

  I did this. Her conscience whispered, a persistent itch she tried to deny. But how could I know? And everything has a price. And what do mortal lives matter to me?

  She turned her gaze away from the ship, staring at the sea. She gathered the night around her like a cloak, reflexively trying to hide. Above her head, she heard the beat of wings and the caw of a crow. The bird swooped down out of the sky and landed at her feet.

  She stepped back, startled, and snapped at the creature. “Why did you want to meet here? Of all places?”

  The Nightmare Crow cackled. “Why, Bevire, so testy you are. Are we having regrets so soon?”

  “No! Of course not!” Harsh denial slipped from her lips, wrapped in anger that the Crow’s words hit so close to her thoughts. “But I don’t see why you dragged me to the mortal world.” Her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of the Rose. “I hate it here.”

  The Crow chuckled. “Such a bad liar, but no matter. What’s done is done.” He moved a few steps, toward the shipwreck. “Such a carcass it makes, this ship. Such a statement. That’s why I asked to meet here. I thought you might want to see what we’ve wrought.”

  “Bah!” Bevire turned away, her breathing suddenly rapid. “What do I care of some wrecked ship and dead mortals? I did not want this! These—these...” She stumbled over her words, finally spitting out, “Distractions and delays.” She whirled around glaring down at the crow. “You said working the spell you gave me would rid this world of the threat my brother posed! And the threat he poses to me and my family! That’s what I want! Nothing else!”

  “Such impatience. You must learn to play the long game, Goddess. The spell will do its work, in time.” The crow took a small step. “First we need to strengthen the beast that we summoned to challenge your brother.”

  “With ships of foolish mortals? You waste my time, creature!” Her shadows violently shifted. “I did not agree to this! To playing games!” The pitch of her voice rose to a shriek and her eyes flashed black. “All I wanted was the threat of my brother removed!”

  The crow flapped his wings and clacked his beak. “Calm yourself, Bevire. These things are intricate. Beasts of this power need to be awakened slowly. You must—”

  “I must do nothing!” With a scream of rage, fuelled by guilt, Bevire kicked the Nightmare Crow, sending the bird flying across the rocky reef. The crow rolled with an infuriated squawk and a trail of feathers before leaping to the sky on his wings.

  “How dare you strike me! How dare you!” His voiced screeched, the air around him quivering.

  “I dare, remnant! I am the Goddess of Night and Shadows! Of Darkness itself! I am no mad goddess waiting on your pleasure!” She laughed, taking delight in the Crow’s momentary surprise at her knowledge. It hadn’t been hard to deduce his involvement with the Goddess of the Moon. She lifted her chin, a haughty expression on her face. “I will not be so easily swayed as my sister. Tell me how long I need to wait for my brother’s ruin or fly off and lick your wounds, Nightmare Crow!”

  The bird flew circles around the reef, angry, shrieking caws filling the air. He finally settled on a rock facing Bevire and fluffed his feathers. “I do not like demands. Nor kicks. I will not forget this insult.”

  “I don’t care. Tell me what I want to know.”

  “I cannot. I do not know myself.”

  “What?” Bevire stepped towards the Nightmare Crow, her darkness surging, blotting out the stars and clouds. The reef suddenly plunged into obsidian night. “Explain yourself, Crow! What did you make me do?”

  “What I needed you to do, of course.” It was the crow’s turn to laugh. “You played your part magnificently, oh Goddess, so willing to guard the world against the supposed threat of your brother.”

  “Supposed threat?” The goddess felt her gut churn. “What of my dreams? They foretold of his menace. Prophesized it.”

  The Crow chuckled. “Who can say where dreams come from? Your own subconscious fears? Happenstance? And yes, sometimes a prophecy. Sometimes, though, they fly on dark wings.” The crow fluttered his own wings.

  Bevire gasped. “It was you? You sent the dreams?”

  The Crow tilted his head. “Does it matter? You wanted to believe. That was enough.”

  She took a step back, her darkness whirling around her, a hand pressed against her chest. “What have I done?’” Guilt and horror rushed through her blood. “What did you make me do?”

  “I made you do nothing! You were quite willing. And I never lied to you. The spell I gave you will indeed summon an ancient beast powerful enough to destroy
the brother you fear so much. Just not as you convinced yourself.” The Crow chuckled. “You never asked the right questions, Goddess. You rarely doubted any of my words, nor asked my motives. You never even asked yourself what kind of a thing could destroy a god. Or whether that power could be contained.”

  Bevire trembled slightly, and her voice whispered. “What do you mean?”

  The crow stretched his wings. “Did you actually think such a thing was simply slumbering benevolently under the sea? It was imprisoned, you fool. Locked away to protect this world from its insatiable hunger.”

  Bevire gasped and the crow hissed in glee.

  “For now it is weak, drained from years of being deprived of its true power. I do not know how long it needs to rise nor do I know exactly what it will do when fully awake. I do know it lives to destroy and that will be enough. Your brother will try to stop it, stop its servants, and the devastation it will cause. The great Rafe Morrow will step right into its path, and then...” The crow gave a harsh shriek, and the goddess jumped. “Then, Bevire, we will have what I want. The beginning of the end and the God of Souls right where I need him to be.” With a laugh, the Nightmare Crow sprang into the air and flew from Bevire’s sight.

  She shivered, her shadows retreating, leaving her shaking under a starlit night. Behind her, the creaking silhouette of the Coral Rose loomed.

  Chapter Three

  Costs

  MORNING CAME WITH FAMILIARITY and the unloading of Lord Merrill’s cargo. Crates of fabric, of rum, of furniture and other goods, were off-loaded on to wagons destined for a dockside warehouse. Rafe stood on the quarterdeck watching the bustling scene. Well-known footsteps sounded behind him. Rafe exhaled.

  “What is it, Blackthorne?”

  The first mate moved into view, standing beside him at the rail. “Lord Merrill has arrived, sir.”

  “I saw. Interesting that he’s come personally to oversee the unloading of his cargo. But you hardly had to announce his presence.”

  “He isn’t here for the cargo, sir. He’s requested permission to come aboard.”

  “Has he now? Our lord is persistent, I’ll give him that. Escort him aboard, and I’ll see you both in my quarters.”

  Both men walked down to the main deck where Blackthorne veered off to fetch Lord Merrill, and Rafe continued below decks to his quarters. He retrieved a small bottle of berry cordial from his cabinet and three glasses. Then he put them on his desk, sat in his chair, and waited. A few moments later, a knock came at the door.

  “Enter.”

  A click of the latch, and both Blackthorne and Lord Merrill moved into the cabin, closing the door behind them. The two men sat down, and Rafe nodded a greeting to his guest.

  “Good morning, Lord Merrill. What can I do for you today?” He reached over and picked up the bottle. “Cordial?”

  “Ah, sweet berry I see. A delight. I’d love a glass.”

  Rafe poured three glasses, each man picking up their drink and settling into their chair with a sip.

  “First rate cordial, sir. I appreciate the hospitality.” Lord Merrill smiled. “And as I think you already suspect, I’m here about the dreadful business of the Coral Rose and to offer you a proposition.”

  Rafe raised an eyebrow, surprised. “A proposition, milord?”

  “Indeed. I shall be blunt, Captain. It is no secret that recent events have left your good name somewhat sullied. And the tactless efforts of Commander Pelham to further tarnish you and your crew have left you all at a disadvantage. Without the goodwill of the people, you will be hampered in your endeavours to find out what happened to the Coral Rose. I dare say Commander Pelham may even try to lay blame on you for the tragedy.”

  Blackthorne snorted. “It would be like Pelham to try such a dirty trick.” He sipped his drink and added, “Sir. Milord.” He nodded at his companions. Lord Merrill chuckled, and Rafe suppressed a smile.

  “Regardless of any supposition and my first mate’s opinion, you are not wrong in your assessment of the situation. What are you suggesting I do?”

  “Allow me to offer a certain amount of protection. Let me put out the word that I have engaged you to investigate the attack on the Coral Rose. If you are seen under my banner, so to speak, it will, at the very least, keep the interference of the Navy of the Royal Court at bay.”

  Rafe set his glass down and leaned back in his chair. He studied the lord for a moment, gauging whether to trust him. He glanced at Blackthorne, who seemed eager to say something.

  “What do you think of this proposal, Blackthorne?”

  “That I’d sooner trust Lord Merrill than Pelham, sir. And I can’t see how we would be harmed by accepting his generous offer. Quite the opposite, in fact. There’s talk around the docks already this morning, and it does not favour us, Captain. If we leave it lie, I fear it will simply get worse.”

  Unease quivered along his thoughts. Blackthorne was right, but still. Rafe sighed. “Since you’ve been blunt with me Lord Merrill, I shall be equally so with you. I have no objection to your support or your protection in the matter of my reputation. On that front, I am grateful and would accept your offer. I do hesitate, though, on how far you wish to be involved in finding the truth on what happened to the Coral Rose. Discovering the facts will be no lark or adventure, but most likely a dangerous quest.”

  “Rest easy your apprehension, Captain. I have no wish to go there. I leave all such troubles in your capable hands. My only wish is to see you accomplish the task of determining the truth and protecting the Outer Islands.”

  Rafe lightly traced the edge of his desk with a finger. “How would this alliance work, then? This flying under your banner?”

  “Leave that business to me. All you need to concern yourself with is finding out what new menace is threatening us. All I’ll need are updates of your progress. Just send me word from time to time and any need you may have of my resources.” Lord Merrill smiled and sipped the last of his cordial. “Command your ship, sir, as you always have, and, with my aid, you’ll find easier harbours and a friendlier welcome.” He placed his empty glass on Rafe’s desk and held out a hand. “Do we have an accord?”

  Rafe took a breath and shook the man’s hand. “We do.”

  “Excellent. I’ll take my leave, then. I’m sure you gentlemen have much to discuss. I can show myself off the ship.” He rose and tipped his hat. “Good day to you both.”

  With another smile, Lord Merrill left Rafe’s quarters.

  “Well, Blackthorne, for better or for worse we have a new ally. I only hope we can trust him.”

  “Time will tell, sir, but by my reckoning, we don’t have better choices. And if it goes rotten, we’ll handle it, as always.” Blackthorne shrugged. “Maybe good fortune has blown our way this time.”

  “Perhaps. I just hope I haven’t done something we’ll all regret.”

  AFTER THE DEPARTURE of Lord Merrill and the off-loading of his cargo, Rafe went ashore with the late morning sun at his back. He made a few stops, one of which included a visit to the bank to check on Lord Merrill’s payment, and visited his suppliers to order more provisions for his ship. Passersby cast fearful or even angry glances his way, though not a one spoke to him.

  On completion of his last errand, Rafe made his way from the harbourside, past the town limits, to a narrow trail along the seashore that few bothered to follow. He walked the path with the wind gently blowing and the tang of salt sea in the air until, at last, he arrived at a small stone cottage. He moved towards its sturdy wooden door and knocked. Inside, he heard a yelp, a banging noise, and then a flurry of footsteps. The door yanked open and a tall bespectacled man appeared, greeting him with a, “Yes, what is it?” and then, “Oh, my, Captain Morrow! Come in, come in.” The man stood aside, sweeping his arm, and Rafe entered the cottage. He noticed a dishevelled pile of books on the floor and smiled.

  “Good to see you again, Evan. Did you drop your books again?” Rafe nodded to the pile on the floor. For such a br
illiant scholar, the poor man was quite uncoordinated at times.

  Evan shut the door and replied, “I’m afraid so. Your knock startled me. I don’t receive many visitors and the ones I do tend to be either of the annoying sort or students come for a tutoring lesson.” He hurried to the mess and bent down. “I’ll have this cleared in a moment. Have a seat.”

  Rafe settled on a hard, wooden chair, elbow resting on the small matching table and watched Evan retrieve his books and neatly stack them on a bookshelf, one of many that lined the walls of the room and that, Rafe knew, filled the rest of the cottage. The only other furniture in this sitting area—a wooden armchair and a writing desk—were also covered in books as well as sheaves of ink-stained paper. With his tomes tucked back into place, Evan turned to Rafe.

  “Care for some tea? I have a lovely blend from Shadow Cay.”

  “No, thank you. I can’t stay long. Have a seat, Evan. I need to discuss an important matter.”

  “Oh dear, that doesn’t sound good.” Evan pulled at his chair and flopped down onto the seat, a worried expression on his face. “Your important matters generally involve dangerous things like witches and pirates and things that want to eat you. What horrible creature is it now?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I came to you. I thought perhaps you might be able to help me with some research, either from your private collection or the Abersythe History Guild.”

  “You don’t know?” Evan straightened his spine, his voice laced with incredulity. “You, God of Souls, centuries old, don’t know what creature he hunts?” Evan drew in a breath. “Tell me what happened. Are we all doomed?”

  Rafe smiled, despite the seriousness of his visit. “I hope not. Have you heard the news about the Coral Rose?”

  Evan shook his head.

  “She wrecked on Razor Reef, but the lone survivor of the crew had an odd story to impart. He said the ship was swamped by a giant wave, sweeping men overboard to their doom. Once the ship ran aground on the rocks, the remaining men were dragged under by bones.”