Iron Tide Rising

by Carrie Ryan

  Fin stumbled back, his breath leaving him in a whoosh. It was his mother. He had to clamp his lips tight to keep from calling to her.

  “You searched so long, honey. Here I am,” she cooed.

  He shook his head, but his feet remained rooted in place.

  His mother’s voice dropped into a tremulous whisper. “Don’t leave me here alone like this.”

  Her words struck in the deepest part of his heart. Tears welled up, and he closed his eyes against them. It would be so easy to let the fight slip from his limbs. To sink into the wax and let it take him.

  His fingers loosened around the hilt of the Evershear, and he felt it begin to slide from his grip. The Evershear. He blinked, remembering running through Flight-of-Thorns with Fig to retrieve it. Remembering the sound of her laugh as they dodged Meressians.

  Remembering the way she’d saved them. So that they could save the Pirate Stream.

  “I will have you,” his mother’s voice hissed.

  Resolve flooded through him, straightening his spine. He wrapped his hand tighter around the bone hilt, determined to ignore the wax’s false promises.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, you won’t.”

  Just then, there was a crack and a thud behind him. Fin spun to find the Enterprising Kraken bearing down on him.

  “Fin!” Marrill shouted from the bow, waving with one hand while clutching Karny with the other. “Come on!”

  He didn’t need to be told twice. He shoved the Evershear in its sheath and raced toward the ship, slipping on the wax as it started to shift and break under the Kraken’s weight.

  “Lift me up, Ropebone!” he shouted. Marrill echoed the command, and a line dropped from the rigging to circle his waist. He leapt from the wax, feeling it give way at the same moment the line snapped tight, yanking him into the air.

  He landed on the Kraken’s deck with a thud and rolled to his feet. His momentum was still carrying him forward when Marrill grabbed his hand, pulling him into a quick side-hug before tugging him to the railing. Together they watched as the giant circle Fin had carved in the wax broke completely free from the rest of the Tallowtrees.

  The wax plug slipped into the Pirate Stream with a splash. It fizzed and bubbled as it touched the raw magic. Parts of it burst into flame; parts of it burst into tears. A cloud of bats in full tuxedos fluttered up into the night.

  “Great work,” Marrill said, clutching her cat and bouncing with glee. “I hope it wasn’t too scary.”

  Fin shoved his chest out, doing his best to look nonchalant. “Nah.” He lifted a shoulder. “Just dark was all.”

  In moments, the whole plug had been consumed by the Stream. To Fin’s shock, though, tendrils of something sickly and white waved briefly on the surface, then retracted, wiggling, into the wax of the Tallowtrees.

  “What. Was. That?” Remy demanded.

  Serth slipped noiselessly across the deck. “There are other”—he paused as though searching for the right word—“things on the Pirate Stream. Just as awful, in their own way, as the foes we face.” He tilted his head toward the now-calm waters. “That was one of them. Fortunately, it is not our problem today.”

  Fin took a slow, halting breath, remembering the voices in the darkness. He was definitely glad he wouldn’t be facing those again anytime soon. “So now what?” he asked.

  “Now,” Serth said, holding up the strand of red heart-shaped pearls he’d recovered from the Meressians, “we dive.” He plucked the pearls from the string and began passing them out.

  Fin’s eyes bulged. “Whoa, hold up.” He glanced at the water beneath them. Its edges shimmered as gold as the rest of the Stream, but its center was cool and blue in the light, just as Serth had originally described it. He’d already seen what happened to things dropped into it. The same thing that happened whenever you dropped something into the Pirate Stream: anything.

  “Did you say dive? Into that?” he asked, pointing overboard. “Are you headsoft?”

  Serth ignored the question, instead tossing him one of the pearls. Fin caught it reflexively and examined it. To his surprise, it was covered in what looked like red sugar. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with it.

  “Place it in your mouth,” Serth explained. “It will keep you focused on the past.”

  Fin caught Marrill’s eye. She seemed just as alarmed as he did.

  When he finished distributing the pearls to the rest of the crew, Serth stood before them. “One thing you all must remember: If you somehow get separated from the Kraken, keep swimming. When the water first hits you, you may transform. You may transform a lot, actually. But you will survive—you will still be you. The power of my magic will protect you. But only so long as you are focused on moving forward. If you stray, or if you tarry, you will be lost. And there will be nothing I can do to help you.”

  Fin’s fear shrieked like alarms guarding a royal treasury. Were they really going to do this? Jump into the Pirate Stream? His whole life, Stream water had meant death. One touch and anything could happen. He’d seen sailors with arms made of whispering glass, whose legs were little gremlins that tore eternally at their hip, all from just the slightest touch of raw Stream water. There was a term for them back in the Khaznot Quay: the Lucky Ones.

  Beside him, Marrill pressed her face against Karnelius’s side. “Good thing you’re Stream-proof,” she murmured, referring to Karny’s dip with the Wiverwane back when Ardent was still with them. “Though if you feel the need to start spouting out more of the Dawn Wizard’s will, maybe you can just save it for another time?”

  She started to hike him onto her shoulder, then paused and set him down. “Actually, with your history of absorbing other critters, maybe I’d better not be holding you,” she said.

  She slipped her hand into Fin’s instead. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. What they were about to do was stupid, reckless, and insane. But whatever was going to happen, at least they had each other.

  Remy cleared her throat. “This is great and all,” she said. “But how are we going to get the Kraken in? She isn’t exactly a submarine, you know.” She put her hands on her hips, eyeing them one at a time.

  “I got this one,” the Naysayer grunted.

  Fin choked on his snort. “You? You’ve got this?”

  He braced, waiting for the inevitable Naysayer stinging comeback. Probably something about what a great job the rest of them had been doing so far, or how many kids and a wizard it took to sink a ship. Maybe even just a simple “Nooooope.”

  But the Naysayer merely stared at him. “Yup,” he said. With one of his four hands, he popped his sugar-coated red pearl into his lipless mouth. With two other hands, he grabbed one of the thick docking ropes and knotted it into a yoke around his girth.

  As the big purple lizard lumbered to the prow of the ship, Fin watched Marrill hold up her own heart-shaped pearl and dart her tongue out to take a taste. Her face pinched for a moment. Then she shrugged and shoved it into her mouth.

  Fin followed suit. His lips puckered. It was sweet and sour and burning all at once, like the memory of something wonderful that was gone and would never be back again.

  “Reathy?” Marrill asked around a slurp of her candy. Her voice wavered. Clearly, she wasn’t.

  “Reathy,” Fin lied.

  The Naysayer snorted, looking down at the shimmering Stream water beneath. “Maybe if I’m lucky it’ll turn me into someone who never met any of ya,” he grunted. “Catch you losers a jillion years ago.”

  Then, with a pirouette that seemed almost elegant, he dove straight into the Pirate Stream.

  The Kraken groaned. The bow dove. Fin braced, sliding forward across the now-sloping deck.

  The bowsprit hit the water. The ship was going down.

  “Remember,” Serth cried, “no matter what happens, keep swimming forward!”

  Glowing water surged over the deck. Fin stumbled, slipped. He took a deep breath. Then he was tumbling straight toward the raw ma
gic that for all of his life had meant instant death.

  CHAPTER 9

  Marrill Is a Dolphin

  Marrill sucked in a deep breath as the Kraken tilted. Not that holding her breath would help. She stumbled and fell headfirst into the waves.

  Plunging into the water was like dropping into a cloud during a thunderstorm. Everything was furious and fantastic and bizarre.

  Plunging into the water was like dropping into a cloud during a thunderstorm. Everything was furious and fantastic and bizarre.

  Light and sound surrounded her, but none of it quite touched her. She was fine, she realized. But then something was odd. Off, ABOUT everything.

  She’d suspected something strange. Something spectacular, sinister, silly. Saltwater surged; sea smells surrounded. Suddenly she shuddered. So, she speculated. Something spectacularly strange surfaced—

  “Don’t get distracted!”

  —after all.

  Marrill shook her head, recovering. She tried to catch her bearings, but everything everywhere was liquid. The word for world was water.

  Oh no, she thought, not getting into that again.

  She forced herself to look forward, to where Serth hovered above the deck of the sinking Kraken, calling to her.

  He floated on his back, but he was carved from stone like a statue. A team of phosphorescent seahorses carried him downward through the warm water. Marrill could taste the light coming off them, and it tasted purple.

  A current washed over them, and

  Serth vanished in a puff of pollen

  And a spattering of light rain.

  “Follow me, follow my voice!” Serth commanded, his words dissolving into birdsong.

  Marrill was trying, but it was hard to keep up when he kept turning into springtime like that. Then again, she wasn’t much better off. Her hands were webbed, her legs were a muscular tail.

  Marrill moved smoothly through

  the fast and flowing waves

  When for a treat she slowed to greet

  a friendly Finta-Ray.

  She was not who she once was,

  she realized with alarm.

  But then again, neither was Fin—

  he had wings beneath his arms!

  This is weird, Marrill thought, and she felt her thoughts bending into a nursery rhyme. She focused on the water around her, on moving back in.…

  No, she told herself, swimming onward. She struggled, fighting the urge. Stay calm, Marrill, she told herself. Stick to swimming. Don’t make the rhyme. Don’t do it.

  It was really hard not to, though. Her will was beginning to fade. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead she squeaked!

  A dolphin-squeak she made!

  Maybe it wasn’t so bad, she thought,

  Maybe she’d made too much fuss.

  “Staaaaay oooon mmyyyy voooooice!!!!”

  Serth whistled, a whale call through the sea.

  Up ahead the Naysayer swam,

  In the form of a giant manatee!

  “Keep following my voice,” Serth called again.

  Marrill blinked, her thoughts returning to her again. The water vanished suddenly, giving way to air. It was unbelievable, Marrill thought. The magic of the Stream was constantly changing them, transforming them. The Kraken turned into a beautiful, lush field.

  “Almost there…” Serth cried, his voice lifting into a sing-song.

  Keep swimming along

  While singing this song

  Deep in the Briiiin-ey stream

  A tune struck up behind him, a light orchestral piece that accompanied his singing. Marrill felt herself altering now, the magic changing her yet again.

  She tried to stay herself. She even had a thought about how.

  Marrill burst into a million pieces as Serth sang them deeper into the heart of the Pirate Stream.

  Just foll-ow my voice

  as if you had a choice

  deep in the Briiiin-ey Stream!

  Marrill

  was wings

  a of

  cloud

  of of

  thoughts

  flapping

  flying

  butterflies

  In the midst of her meadow, Serth burst into view again, tapping his heels and waving an umbrella like an old-time movie star. The Buttermarrils flapped their wings together in cheer, fluttering urged on by the melody of his song.

  Don’t you drift away

  Hear the words I say

  Nothing good a-waits out there!

  The music spun up, wild and fast now. Serth whirled on his heels, did a magnificent slide through the grass, and doffed a suddenly appearing top hat at a tree full of beautiful, bleeding blossoms that might once have been Remy.

  BWAAAAAWWWHHHAAAAAAA

  A horn blasted through the song. The cloud of Buttermarrils fluttered together, their wings beating against one another, the tips of them slapping nervously.

  “It’s cooooooomiiiiiiiiiing!” Serth belted out, landing on the grass-green deck with a twirl.

  BWAAAAAWWWHHHAAAAAAA

  Reality rippled. A wave of force blasted through the Buttermarrils, and the next thing they knew they were a person again.

  A sharp, black metal prow stabbed through the center of her vision. The Iron Ship tore past, blasting aside the world around them.

  “This is it!” Serth shouted, his voice now his own. “Stay close!”

  Marrill looked around. They were back on the deck of the Kraken. She was her, Fin was Fin, Octokarny was—just Karny. Everyone and everything seemed to have returned to normal. Well, as normal as it had ever been.

  Not too far ahead of them, the scrap-metal stern of the Iron Ship thundered through a swirling hole in space, then vanished.

  Marrill threw up her hands in anguish. “We missed it!”

  Then reality rippled again, and they were somewhere else. They stood in the boughs of an enormous tree, on a platform hollowed out in the burl of a giant branch. The bark billowed, as though it were made from clouds.

  “…I haven’t worked out the math just yet, but I’m pretty sure if you got too close, it would bite,” said a familiar voice.

  Marrill whirled about, her heart pounding. A thin old man tugged at the tip of his beard, kicking aside the length of his purple robes.

  “Ardent!” she cried.

  The wizard held up a finger to his companion. “Did you—feel something? It felt like fate.”

  Another wizard stood straight and elegant, laugh lines tracing the edges of her lips. “I only hear you, old fool,” she chuckled.

  Fin gasped beside Marrill. “It’s Annalessa!”

  “They can’t hear you,” Serth said. His hand fell heavy on Marrill’s shoulder, holding her back. “We aren’t completely here, after all. Just passing through on a surge of the Master’s wake. He must have taken the straightest path backward—through his own past.”

  Marrill frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “This is Ardent’s history we’re trespassing in,” Serth explained. “He’s retracing his past; we’re simply along for the ride.”

  Annalessa looked around. “I did feel something,” she whispered. “It felt like… Serth.”

  Ardent snorted, crossing his arms. “Chasing after Serth will lead us nowhere,” he said, a storm in his voice. “Nowhere good, anyway.”

  Beside Marrill, Serth let out a hmph.

  “Well, he wasn’t wrong,” Fin said.

  Marrill ignored them both. She was too busy studying the two wizards, trying to capture every last detail. She missed Ardent—this Ardent. And the last time they’d seen Annalessa, she’d followed Serth’s example and drunk Stream water, turning into the Compass Rose of the Map to Everywhere.

  That had been nothing but an echo of the past. Maybe it was fitting, Marrill thought, that they would see her here, when they were the echoes cast back from the future.

  “This must have been the moment when she asked for his help finding Serth and he refuse
d to go with her,” Fin said softly beside her.

  Marrill nodded. Other than their time out of time in Monerva, it was the last time Ardent had seen Annalessa. The moment that set his quest for her in motion.

  “I love you, Anna,” Ardent said, turning away. “But I cannot join you in this.”

  Marrill opened her mouth to yell. Maybe if she could just shout loud enough, they would really hear her. Maybe Ardent would wise up and not let Annalessa walk out alone.

  But as the words left her mouth, reality rippled again. The wake of the Iron Ship pulled them deeper into the past.

  Now they were standing on top of a hill at night. She spun and found Ardent and Annalessa lying on their backs in the soft grass nearby. Their heads tilted toward each other, almost touching, as they stared up into a midnight sky peppered with stars.

  They were younger here, their faces showing fewer traces of time. Ardent’s fingers danced in the air, and at his command the stars above swirled and coalesced into shapes. Animals and creatures danced and played out some story he’d just made up.

  Marrill raced toward them. “Ardent!” she shouted as loud as she could. She wanted to warn him, but she didn’t know what to say.

  Ardent stiffened and the stars dimmed, the night growing darker. He started to push himself up.

  Marrill fell to her knees in front of him, only inches separating them. Tears blurred her eyes as she choked out, “Don’t let her go, Ardent.” She reached for his arm but her hand fell through emptiness.

  “You won’t be able to reach him, Marrill,” Serth said behind her. There was a hollow note to his voice, as if watching it hurt him, too.

  But she shook her head, refusing to give up.

  Annalessa’s fingertips brushed against Ardent’s shoulder, coming to rest on his arm. “Ardent?”

  “I felt…” He stared down at where she touched him, frowning. It was the same spot Marrill had just tried to grab. His eyes lifted to meet Annalessa’s. Eyes that were full of love and wonder and promise. “I’ll never let you go, Annalessa.”