Souls of the Dark Sea

by A F Stewart

  Miss Ainslie nodded in agreement. “Indeed, but the story does get better. I’ll—” A bell chime interrupted her. She replaced the marker in the book and closed it with a smile. “That’s the door. If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, let me deal with this new visitor and then we’ll continue.”

  Miss Ainslie walked away towards the front door, leaving Rafe and his men. The group fidgeted in silence for a moment before Short Davy turned to Rafe and exclaimed, “Do you really think this is all true? Is that why we’re here, sir?” Fear crept in around the edges of his expression. “Has something dark truly crawled out of the Archipelago or someplace even worse? Is this what we’re facing?”

  Rafe held back a sigh and answered with the straight truth. “Yes. I believe so.”

  Davy’s face blanched, but, before he could say anything, Miss Ainslie returned.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.” She marched back to the table and the stack of books oblivious to the tension in the room. “I forgot about today’s delivery of new books, but it’s all been taken care of. Shall we resume?” Without waiting for an answer, she picked up the book she had been reading previously and opened it to the marked page. “Ah, here it is. We were just coming to the part about the Hunter.” She cleared her throat and resumed her recitation.

  Their cries of horror were so loud and far-reaching that they flew past the clouds, beyond the Darkness, to the stars themselves. There, the beseeching pleas were heard by the God of the Hunt and his three companions, the Shadow Birds. It is said the pain of these cries touched the heart of the God of the Hunt. So much so, he grabbed his bow and his horn and leapt from the stars into the Darkness followed by his faithful Shadow Birds. He landed on the earth and not the sea, and shook the ground apart, his impact creating the Outer Islands—

  “What? Wait.” Rafe held up a hand, interrupting. “Stop reading. This God of the Hunt, he created the Outer Islands?”

  “That’s what it says. I know most tales say the Outer Islands and the Seven Kingdoms were created when Light came to the World, but—”

  “No, that’s not it. If this God of the Hunt created the islands, then I know who he is. He’s Ulerne, the Hunter. My grandfather.” Rafe smiled, ignoring the incredulous look on Miss Ainslie’s face. “Continue reading, please.”

  “Um, as you wish.” She turned back to the book.

  The God of the Hunt roared, his voice challenging the god Ashetus to come and do battle. But the God of Judgement refused, sending his servants, his great army of bones, in his stead. The God of the Hunt grew angry at this insult and fought Ashetus’ army by sounding his horn and destroying them all.

  “I wonder...” Rafe mused, and Miss Ainslie paused. The captain did not elaborate, but merely said, “Go on.”

  With his army of bones obliterated, Ashetus had no choice but to do battle with the God of the Hunt. The Terrible God rose from the sea on a scream and a wave that reached to the sky and that shook the mountains. The God of the Hunt matched his cry as did the shrieks of the Shadow Birds. For three days and three nights the battle raged. The world shook, the seas boiled, and the clouds shattered. Every creature of the Darkness hid from the War of Gods until, at last, a night-kissed arrow shot from the God of the Hunt’s bow, ending the great battle and severely wounding Ashetus. But even then, the God of Judgement did not die, but fled to lick is wounds far down in the sea into the depths of the Darkness. Yet, the God of the Hunt did not follow, only plucked a star from his home and imprisoned the Terrible God in eternal sleep. There the God of Judgement lies in slumber where only the shadows will have the power to wake him.

  “A star?” Blackthorne’s droll tone broke into the silence that followed the reading. “A god plucked a star from the sky to imprison this thing? I doubt we’ll be stopping anything by those means, sir.”

  “Not something easily repeated, I grant you, Blackthorne. Does the book say anything else, Miss Ainslie?”

  “Only some passages about the Shadow Birds. How two of them were killed by Ashetus and the third was wounded. Here the story becomes unclear.” She flipped a few pages of the book and read.

  Mourning the deaths of its brothers, the last Shadow Bird remained alone, cast aside by the God of the Hunt, abandoned to its bitter anger. It wandered the world, a Crow.

  She closed the book and looked up to see Rafe and Blackthorne exchange another knowing look.

  “Does that have some significance?”

  “Perhaps. It is not the first time of late we heard mention of a crow. It wouldn’t surprise me if it’s involved in this matter.”

  Miss Ainslie sighed. “You really do live a strange life, Captain.”

  “I am aware.” Rafe grinned. “Now, are there any books that tell of the origin of Ashetus, where he came from?”

  She reached over and grabbed yet another book. Several bookmarks peeped out from between its pages. She turned to the first marked place. “This is the only reference.”

  Ashetus, Weaver of Darkness, Keeper of Sea. Creature of whim and beasts, he ruled serene. Ashetus was content, Ashetus ruled the Darkness, ruled the Sea. Until Death broke him. Until Judgement fell. Until he hungered. Then the Terrible God he became. And Death he served, and Death he fought.

  She closed the book. “Rather cryptic, I know.”

  “A bit, but I’m beginning to think I should have asked for a few more family stories growing up.” Rafe sighed, knowing far more about Death than he cared to admit to Miss Ainslie. “What else is in these books?”

  “Stories about how he killed, his powers, various other dreadful things. I’ve marked all relevant passages. Why don’t I adjourn to the kitchen and make some tea? Then we can go through the rest of them together.”

  “Tea sounds wonderful, Miss Ainslie.” Rafe smiled, and their host excused herself. He turned to his two crew members. “Grab a book, gentlemen, and start reading.” Blackthorne and Davy sat down, each pulling a book from the stack while the sound of a tea kettle echoed from the kitchen.

  Chapter Six

  Archipelago of Nightfall

  THE Jewel remained in port at Red Bay and the fall of twilight saw Rafe in his quarters mulling over the day’s events. A glass of port sat untouched by an open bottle of wine. Rafe simply stared at the dark red liquid and the fading sunlight flickering through the window reflecting off the glassware. Only a knock at the door broke his reverie.

  “Come in.”

  The door swung open and Blackthorne entered. He settled down in a chair. “You’ve been brooding down here for hours. Would you like to talk about today?”

  “I haven’t been brooding. Much. I’m trying to understand what today means in terms of many things, but perhaps it might help to talk.” Rafe sighed. “So much of what we learned is familiar, yet...why didn’t I know the story of Ashetus?” Rafe shook his head. “So many times growing up I heard the tale of the Creation of the World. How Ulerne the Hunter leapt from the stars to the world below. How, when he arrived, he shook the world apart, forming the Seven Kingdoms and the Outer Islands. My grandfather brought the light of the stars to the world before returning to his home.” Rafe stared at Blackthorne, and added, “Most of that is written in those books. Why didn’t I know the rest of the story?”

  “I can’t say, sir, but perhaps your grandfather kept his secrets from everyone.”

  “Interesting. You’re saying perhaps my father didn’t know of Ashetus?” Blackthorne nodded. “Possible. But I’m betting my mother did.”

  “Sir?” Blackthorne shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The captain rarely mentioned his mother.

  “Yes. You remember the line from one of the books, ‘And Death he served, and Death he fought?’”

  “I do.”

  “That, my friend, may very well be a reference to my mother.” Rafe leaned back in his chair ignoring the pained look on Blackthorne’s face. “She lived here before my grandfather came. In fact, she and my father shaped the beginning of the world we know today. As the story goes, Ul
erne sent his son, Reis, to the mortal world to look after his new creation. Some of the creatures that lived there welcomed their new god and the light of the stars, but some refused. Reis banished them to the Archipelago of Nightfall to live in the darkness, yet always under the light of the Perpetual Moon.”

  “That story I’m quite familiar with, sir. My granny used to tell me about the Archipelago, and warn me never to go to sea.” Blackthorne grinned.

  “Yet, here you are. Your granny must not have instilled enough fear in your young soul.”

  “Until I met you, captain, I thought she was quite mad.”

  “Families, eh?” Rafe chuckled. “The Archipelago was how my parents met, at least, that’s what I was told. My mother, Goddess of Death, joined with father to help exile the creatures that rejected the light. Then, together, they fashioned the Mortal World and the After World. So you see, my mother would have known of Ashetus, yet never a word was spoken of him to the gods. I’m beginning to think much of what I was told as a child is a lie or, at the very least, not the whole truth.”

  Blackthorne shrugged. “That does put another spin on things. It seems very deliberate. That Ashetus was intentionally erased from your history.”

  “Perhaps. But not erased entirely from the mortal world. It makes no sense. Why hide him from only the gods?” Rafe shifted in his chair.

  Blackthorne suddenly fell silent, staring at his boots.

  Rafe waited until he could stand the silence no longer. “What is it, Blackthorne? You’ve thought of something.”

  “It’s just, well sir, perhaps we mortals didn’t matter. If this Ashetus exists, a thing like that...no ordinary person could threaten to free it. From what we’ve learned, I’m not certain even a magic user could manage it. It took a god and the power of the stars to imprison it. Perhaps...” He hesitated slightly. “Perhaps it was thought best to remove temptation from your family.”

  Rafe drew in a quick breath, the implications sinking in. “You think a god is responsible for these strange happenings?”

  Blackthorne nodded. “It is a distinct possibility. Or the Nightmare Crow. It seems an odd coincidence, your sister invoking that name on the Isle of Bones, and then mention of Shadow Birds and a Crow surfacing in relation to Ashetus.”

  “It does, and you may be right. This creature, whatever it is, may be repeating the same ploy it tried with the Moon Goddess, turning gods against each other.” Rafe abruptly slammed his fist on his desk rattling his wine glass, nearly spilling the port. “If only we—”

  “Captain!” A fearful shout from above decks interrupted him, and both he and Blackthorne jumped to their feet. They raced to the main deck in all haste. As they emerged, they saw the crew silent and still, all eyes raised to the sky. Above their heads, floating beside the rigging and batting at a sail, hovered the Goddess of the Moon. She looked down when she spotted Rafe.

  “Brother. At last. I was beginning to get bored.” She laughed and descended slowly alighting with a skip to the main deck.

  “Hello, sister.” Rafe uncertain whether to be happy, irritated, or afraid settled on a brief smile. “You do know it is customary to ask permission to board a ship, don’t you?”

  “Of course. But when have I ever been customary?” She spun about with another laugh. “Hello, brother. Hello, brother’s crew. I’ve come for a visit. Shall we have tea?”

  “Perhaps we’ll just adjourn to my quarters and talk. Before someone does something they’ll regret.” He eyed the wary and terrified looks shadowing the faces of his men, Blackthorne’s included.

  “Don’t be silly. We’re all friends now. Aren’t we, brother’s crew?’ She laughed, a sound more akin to sending shivers over the skin than reassurance. Murmurs rippled through the ship, and a few men backed away a few steps. She laughed again. “See, all friends.”

  “Stop playing with them, Manume. Let’s talk in my quarters.”

  “Very well.” She walked past him and descended below decks, followed by her brother. Every other man remained on deck.

  The pair of gods moved through the suddenly deserted corridors and entered Rafe’s quarters. Manume walked over to his desk and perched herself on its edge, staring out the window.

  “Such a cage you live in, looking out the glass at a broken world.”

  “Why are you here, sister? Is something wrong? Are you here to stir up mischief?”

  “No, no, I am done. My word still holds. I come for a visit. For a talk. Nothing more.” She turned and smiled at him. “Have I not been a good girl so far?”

  “Yes, you have. And thank you for keeping your children in check. The seas have been much quieter, less dangerous.”

  “I try.” She rocked on the edge of the desk. “Sometimes they listen. Sometimes they don’t.”

  “I can imagine. But still, I wonder at the timing of your visit.”

  She shrugged. “What is time? A little bug on a wheel. Spinning, spinning, round and round. Back to the beginning, back to ground.” She turned again to the window. “Hugh thought I should come.”

  Rafe crossed to his desk, and sat down, surprised by her words. “Really? So how is Hugh?”

  “He has planted a garden. With flowers. He is a very strange man.”

  “A garden? Where did he get flowers on the Isle of Bones?”

  She shrugged again. “He has been making friends. They give him gifts. Sometimes, they tell him things.” She looked at Rafe once more and smiled. “And sometimes my children tell me things.”

  A shiver ran through Rafe’s blood. “Is that why you’re here?”

  She nodded.

  He did not want to ask, but the words spilled out. “What things?’

  “Cold magic under the sea. Disappearing bodies. A hungry thing, very old. They are afraid, my children and Hugh’s friends.” She looked out the window. “Bad things are coming. Things called by shadows and feathers. I can feel them through the moon. Sad voices. Sad, sad voices. And angry ones. Ones that are afraid.” She hopped off the desk and faced her brother. “You need to come. You need to talk to Hugh’s friends. They will talk to you, tell you things. I don’t know why, but they said they would.”

  “Go where?”

  “The Archipelago of Nightfall, of course. Tonight.”

  “Tonight? Manume, I just can’t sail out of port on a moment’s notice. I need—”

  “Shush, brother, shush! You spend too much time being not a god. You forget. I don’t need a ship, silly. We leave tonight, and I’ll return you the next day. Easy and done.” She held out her hand. “Like when we were children.”

  Rafe rose, crossed in front of his desk, and took her hand. “I’ll need to tell the crew I’m leaving.”

  “Done. This will be easier on deck. Less rumble and more sparkle.”

  Rafe chuckled. “Let’s try not to wake the town or frighten anyone.”

  “You always want to steal the fun.” She smiled. “Come then, back to the air and the sky!” She moved to the door and yanked it open, tugging her brother along in her wake, and they both went back on deck. As they emerged, crewmen carefully backed to the rail giving them or, more aptly, her, a wide berth. The Goddess of the Moon laughed. “What? Still no tea?”

  Blackthorne moved forward a step. “I’d be happy to brew a nice pot of dark leaf, ma’am, if you’re staying.”

  Manume tilted her head. “I like this one, brother.” She moved a few paces towards the first mate. “Alas, alas, not tonight, no, no. Not tonight for tea. But maybe someday, little man. Little Blackthorne.” She turned, oblivious to his shocked look and addressed Rafe. “Shall we, brother? The night ticks, ticks, ticks away like a bug on a wheel.”

  “You’re right.” He took a breath, his voice booming to his men. “I need to take a small trip with my sister. I’ll be back by tomorrow with any luck. Until then Blackthorne has command of the Jewel.” He reached out and grasped his sister’s hand. “The quarterdeck is the best place for this. Come along.”

  Cha
sed by gasps and whispers and the still shocked stare of Blackthorne, the pair raced to the higher deck, and in one, two, three blinks, a wave of moon magic engulfed them both and they vanished from the ship.

  RAFE STAGGERED AS THEY hit the sandy beach on the Isle of Bones. He fell to one knee and took several deep breaths.

  “See, see.” Manume leaned over him and scolded. “Too hard playing at being not a god. You’re out of practice. You never used to be bothered by my magic. You used to help more. You’ll need to be more of a god, less of a captain.”

  Rafe lifted his head, gazing at his sister bathed against the light of her perpetual moon. “You may be right. Travelling with you didn’t used to be that draining or disorienting.”

  “Maybe you’re just getting old.”

  Rafe snorted. “Then what does that make you, older sister?”

  “Prettier.” She grinned. “And smarter.”

  Rafe chuckled and scrambled to his feet as a voice echoed over the dunes.

  “You brought him! Hurrah!”

  Rafe turned to see Hugh Corwin racing towards them while Manume shouted back.

  “I said I would, silly man. Did you doubt?”

  “No, of course not.” Hugh skidded to a stop with a grin plastered on his face. “Good to see you again, Captain.” He held out his hand and Rafe shook it heartily. “I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

  “So do I. My sister tells me you have new friends, and they want to talk to me.” Rafe inhaled and asked, “Is this about Ashetus?”

  Hugh sucked in his breath. “How did you hear that name?”

  “A ship went aground on Razor Reef and certain oddities about the wreck led me to some new histories regarding the gods and Ashetus.”

  “Things may be worse than I thought.” Hugh sighed and then asked, “What ship?”

  “The Coral Rose. Out of Abersythe.”

  “No!” Hugh flopped down on the sand. “I knew men from that ship, saw her in port, drank with her crew.” He raised his head looking at Rafe. “What happened?”