Death of the Immortal King

by Sarah McCarthy

  She completed her walk through the square and returned to waiting at the statue. Slowly, the crowd thinned around her, and still her father didn’t come. Where is he? She bit her lip. Should she go look for him? Maybe he’d had some trouble getting here. But Elaine doubted it. Her father’s ships were the best in Mimros. Always reliable, always on time. She moved on to chewing her thumbnail. A blast of trumpets sounded, and a thrill of excitement went through the crowd. People began moving for the main street that led to the harbor. She should go get her boat, get ready. Maybe he’d arrived late and gone straight to the docks, thinking she’d be there.

  She took one last look around the square and followed the crowd.

  The main street was wide, but it was packed. The side streets were all blocked off, soldiers standing guard, barricades keeping anyone from going past. Large signs declared that whole districts of Kreiss were closed. Quarantined due to the latest plague. They’d nearly cancelled the celebration, but if they had, it would have been the first time in nearly nine hundred years.

  The crowd thinned as they reached the harbor, spreading out across the docks, making their way to their own boats, or to the spectator barges that one by one were filling and then making their slow, ponderous way out to the starting line.

  Thoughts of her father were driven from her mind as her heart leapt into her throat. It was time. She went to go find her boat.

  Even though it had only been yesterday that she’d last sailed it, her heart still swelled as she caught sight of it. The Onera. So beautiful. The dark wood brightly polished, the planks fitting perfectly together. It had taken her years to get it all right. And there wasn’t a piece of it that she hadn’t done and redone a dozen times. There wasn’t a single nail that was less than the highest quality. She’d worked for hundreds of hours for her father, hauling cargo, scrubbing mold, scraping barnacles, just to pay for it all herself.

  She took a moment, said a prayer of gratitude, and stepped in. It rocked gently, but it was more like it moved with her. Running methodically through her mental checklist, she dropped the centerboard, uncleated from the dock, raised the sail, and moved towards the starting line.

  It was already packed, but she found an open spot and nosed up among the other boats.

  A drumbeat started near the barges of spectators. Elaine closed her eyes, said a quick prayer to the goddess Onera, then took a deep breath and opened them, scanning the crowd for her father.

  Hundreds of people sat in raised seats, the women holding brightly colored parasols to shade themselves from the sun. Elaine looked for her father’s dark hair, his broad shoulders, long dark tunic, and highly polished boots, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  “Your daddy buy that boat for you?”

  Elaine glanced sideways and saw a girl who seemed to be all elbows and knees and stringy blond hair leaning back against the tiller of her own boat and glaring at her.

  “No,” Elaine said. “I built it.”

  “Right. I bet. Bet he paid someone to fix the race for you, too.” Elbows continued her staring. “It’ll look pretty bad if you lose today.”

  Elaine’s stomach turned over.

  Trumpets blared, and a large, ornate barge approached. High on a raised platform, on a gilt throne, sat the Mandrevecchian himself. He didn’t look much like the statue. A full contingent of guards and no less than three more boats filled with soldiers surrounded him.

  The barge slowed to a stop, and the Mandrevecchian stood to riotous applause. He gave a short speech, but Elaine only caught half of the words; the others were lost to the wind or drowned out by the call of gulls. But she heard enough. Commemorating the glory of Mimros and that fateful sacrifice the Mandrevecchian had made, bringing peace and immortality. There was a lot of wild cheering, with flowers scattered at the Mandrevecchian’s feet, and then the drums began again.

  The Mandrevecchian took up a golden horn and raised his right hand high. Elaine swallowed her nerves, her sweaty hand gripping the tiller, her sail flapping loosely, her lips moving in a silent prayer. The horn rang out and Elaine hauled in on the main line; her sail went taut, billowing out into a smooth arc, catching the wind hard, and the Onera shot forward.

  Elaine grinned and her nerves dropped away, just as they always did. Her body bent with the motion of the boat as she crashed over a wave.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Elaine saw a dark shadow shooting in from her right. Elbows was heading straight into her path. It was a stupid, vengeful move; there was no way the girl was going to gain any ground that way, but as the ship sliced towards her, Elaine was forced to adjust her course, to tack out of the way, losing valuable time. She yanked on the tiller, cutting to the side just in time to avoid a collision.

  Several choice words popped into her head, including several profanities, but she had more important concerns than a spiteful idiot. The main pack was getting ahead of her.

  She scanned the surface of the water, looking for the characteristic dark patches that gave the wind away. There wasn’t much. The surface of the sea was calm and smooth. The main pack was already on the most efficient course for the first route marker, and if she followed behind, she would be in their wind shadow.

  Elaine dropped back a few feet, scanning the boats ahead of her, looking for any opening. Elbows was a hundred yards behind her—her wild tack had lost her significant distance.

  They reached the first of the four route markers, and Elaine cut in close, only inches from nicking the buoy itself. The wind picked up, and Elaine let out on her sail to catch more of it, moving to the high side of the boat, weighting it down so she could get more speed.

  Then she saw it. Her chance. It was fifty yards to the left, a significant distance from the main group. A dark spot on the surface of the water, where the waves were choppy. A place where the wind was faster. She’d lose time getting there, but if the wind held, maybe she could use it to get around the main group.

  Elaine ducked under her sail, adjusted her course, and shot off for the spot. She heard a shout behind her and saw that Elbows was following. Well, let her try.

  She hit the wind and it was better than she had expected; it filled her sails and yanked her boat forward, propelling it so fast it skimmed along the waves, sending up bouts of spray. Elaine grinned, but noticed her sail was tipping dangerously low, so she climbed to the high side of her boat, clipped a rope to her belt, stuck her feet in the foot holds, and leaned out over the water. Her boat levelled, shooting along with the wind. Less than three minutes later she reached the main pack. Four more minutes and she’d overtaken them.

  As she came out from behind the crowd, she saw there was one boat out in front of the rest. A slim craft shooting along, still widening its lead. Elaine adjusted her feet in the straps, tightened her grip on the main line, and barreled towards her, eating up the distance between them.

  The girl at the boat’s helm saw her coming. Elaine could tell because she put on a burst of speed, pushing her boat harder, copying Elaine and leaning out over the edge of the gunwales. Her hair was a shocking, bright red, and billowed out loose in the wind behind her. How impractical. Could she even see?

  They passed the second buoy, and Elaine was closing fast now. The girl was good, but her boat couldn’t compete. It had reached its maximum speed, and it just wasn’t long enough to go any faster. Its own bow wave was holding it back. Elaine had her.

  A choppy area of water up ahead caught her attention. More wind? Her stomach dropped out from under her, as she saw the fin slice the water, a tentacle lifting out and smashing down. Nope. Not more wind. A Great Angler, directly in their path.

  Both Elaine and the redhead saw it and changed course, giving it a wide berth. It was likely faster than either of them; if it decided it wanted them, there would be nothing they could do. Elaine caught a glimpse of needlelike teeth as she flashed past, and then she was on the other side. She had lost a few yards on the leader, but she had enough time. She was going to catch her.
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br />   Elaine glanced back over her shoulder, her boat swaying and bucking beneath her, just to make sure the creature wasn’t following, and her heart skipped a beat.

  Elbows, the stupid idiot, was only a few yards from the beast. She was cutting it close, trying to catch up. Elaine gritted her teeth; maybe it wouldn’t notice the girl. Just as she thought that, though, the thrashing paused, and the creature lunged for the other girl. It slammed into her boat, shattering it to splinters. The creature’s full bulk lifted out of the water, higher and higher, its teeth crunching the wood apart. A tentacle gripped what was left of the boat, tossing it aside easily, scattering wreckage across the choppy waves.

  A panicked blonde head popped out of the water, directly in the beast’s path. Behind her, the main pack was scattering, turning in fear, the race all but forgotten. Elbows was trying to swim, but the waves buffeted her with fragments of her ruined boat. She went under, came up sputtering. The creature sent a tentacle towards her, feeling for the girl. It picked her up, struggling and dripping, lifted her ten feet out of the water and threw her. Elaine heard her panicked screaming, cut off as her head went under the water again. It was toying with her. It would play with her until she drowned. Which wouldn’t be long.

  Elaine was only about five yards behind the redhead. She could even make out the tattoos that covered her muscular arms, now. She glanced back at Elbows, screaming for someone to help her. The beast was distracted; having discovered the ruined sail, it was now dragging it through the water. Elaine made a stupid decision. She dropped to the bottom of her boat, let off the sail, yanked the tiller around. She ducked as the boom swept over her head, her boat spinning in the quickest turn she’d ever made, and then she was up the other side of the boat, barreling back towards the beast.

  Elaine was thirty feet from it when the beast paused. It cocked its gargantuan, barnacle-encrusted head at an angle, watching her with enormous, gelatinous eyes. Elaine clenched her fist around the main line, her eyes locked on the beast. She was twenty feet from Elbows. Fifteen. Ten. The beast lunged for her, a tentacle reaching out. Elaine yanked the tiller to the side, darting left. The thick appendage, smelling rank and trailing seaweed, ripped past her, missing the end of her boat by inches. She yanked again, straining back towards the girl. There would be one chance. Elbows had seen her; her eyes were wide with terror; she was screaming and paddling, struggling in her heavy clothes. Elaine grabbed a rope, prepared to throw.

  Another tentacle caught her by surprise, slamming into the back of the boat. Something cracked, but the Onera was still shooting forward. She was a foot away; with all her strength she cast the line out. It dropped in front of the panicked girl, who had just enough sense to grab it. The speed of Elaine’s boat nearly yanked the rope back out of her hands, but she got a hold, and the boat began dragging her forward. The Onera slowed sickeningly and in an instant the creature was on them, its mouth yawning, preparing to crunch Elaine’s craft into matchsticks. Elaine looked desperately around the hull, caught sight of her anchor, which luckily wasn’t tied to anything. With strength she didn’t know she had, she ducked down, catching the anchor with one hand and slinging it into the jaws of the creature. It shrieked, its tentacles going to its mouth. They had only seconds, Elaine guessed. She grabbed the rope with Elbows on the other end and hauled in, arm over arm, bodily yanking her into the boat, where she collapsed in a shaking puddle.

  Immediately, Elaine was back up, no time to see if the girl was OK. She took quick stock of the wind; she needed the perfect angle. The most speed possible. It didn’t matter where, just away. She found it, tightening the sail as far as it would go, the Onera groaning and cracking under the strain.

  A roar from behind them, and the anchor smashed into the prow of the boat, jarring them off course, Elaine yanked them back, holding the tiller as steady as her tense muscles would allow. It was coming for them, gaining quickly, its tentacles thrashing, utterly enraged. No playing with its prey now.

  Disbelief flashed through Elaine. She hadn’t thought this was how she would die. The creature was feet away now, its mouth opening, its teeth flashing in the sunlight. Suddenly a javelin blossomed out of the creature’s mouth, then another and another; the creature shrieked and dove beneath the sea, and Elaine, dizzy, faintly surprised she was still alive, turned to see the boats of soldiers, crossbows and javelins aimed at the bubbling water where the creature had been.

  She collapsed into the bottom of her boat, sinking to her knees and letting the craft’s momentum carry it forward past them, in the general direction of the harbor. She was barely aware of the boats that came up alongside, the shouting voices, the strong arms lifting her up.

  Elaine sat dutifully in the medical tent while she was examined. Aside from a few scrapes she was fine. They fed her and wrapped her in a blanket until she stopped shaking. Elaine was about to go look for her boat when the red-haired girl with the tatoos appeared at her bedside.

  “Congrats,” Elaine said reflexively. “Nice sailing.”

  The girl’s eyes were a bright turquoise, light and slightly chalky, like clear water in an alpine pool heavy with minerals. They were the strangest eyes Elaine had ever seen, and they watched her thoughtfully.

  “Thanks. You too.”

  “I’m Elaine.” Elaine reached out a hand.

  The girl reached out her tattooed arm. Her skin was covered with images of the gods, as well as an ivy-covered cabin, a rose garden, and the face of a woman. Her grip was strong and sure.

  “Jole. Jole ta.”

  No clan affiliation. There was a pause as Elaine considered giving hers, but she felt it would be rude now.

  “Don’t worry, I know who you are. Who your father is.”

  Elaine blushed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  Jole ignored her apology. “That’s a lot to live up to.”

  Elaine looked up, surprised. “Sometimes.”

  “I understand the feeling.”

  Elaine wondered what she meant by this, being clanless herself, then shook herself. Just because someone was clanless didn’t mean they didn’t have things to live up to.

  There was a long pause.

  “Where did you learn to sail like that?” Elaine asked, since the girl didn’t seem in a hurry to tell her why she wanted to talk to her.

  A strange half-smile quirked Jole’s lips. “Just learned on my own. I’ve been sailing a long time.”

  “Me too. You’re impressive, though.”

  Jole shrugged. “Thanks. You’re good, too. That was an incredible rescue. Brave.”

  Elaine shrugged, embarrassed.

  “That girl didn’t deserve it. I heard what she was saying to you, at the start line. Heard you say you built your own boat, too. That’s cool. And it was her own fault for getting so close to that thing.”

  Elaine played with the sheet of her cot and briefly wondered where her father was. “I couldn’t just let her die.

  Jole suddenly bit her lip and looked away.

  “Sorry, did I say something?” Elaine asked.

  Jole turned her strange, light eyes back to Elaine, and they were serious. “Um, look. You seem like a nice person.”

  “Thanks?”

  Jole half-smiled again, but she was clearly distracted. “Look. I’ve heard some things. About your father. You might want to… I don’t know. Maybe hide some money somewhere.”

  “What?”

  Jole ran a hand through her tangled hair. “Maybe go stay with relatives. If you have them.”

  “What? Why? What have you heard?” Elaine knew that, whatever it was, it would be false, but if there were rumors going around about her father he would want to know.

  “Look, I may not be clan, but I have connections. I know people. Not the most reputable ones, but people who hear things. And I’ve heard some things about your father, recently.”

  “What kinds of things?”

  “He’s been meeting with a lot of… my kind of person. That’s all I kno
w.” A look of fear crossed her face. “Please don’t tell anyone I told you, OK?”

  “Of course not. I promise.” If her father was meeting with people like that, Elaine knew he would have a good reason. “Thank you.”

  Jole stuffed her hands into the pockets of her black tunic and looked down at her boots, hunching her shoulders. She looked like she was considering saying something more, but she only nodded.

  “Right. Later, then.”

  “Numenos bless,” Elaine called after her retreating form.

  “What in Yqtos’ name were you thinking, Elaine? A Great Angler?”

  Elaine stood in her father’s office, back in her hometown of Tarith. “She was going to die.”

  “And you thought you’d join her?”

  She looked into his black eyes, cringing at the anger she saw there.

  “I made it, though.”

  “That’s beside the point! It was only luck that it didn’t kill both of you.”

  Elaine glared at him. “If I hadn’t done anything, she’d be dead. I knew I could do it.” The moment she had thought she was going to die flashed before her eyes again, but she shoved it back down.

  Her father shook his head and looked out the window.

  “You have to know your limits, Elaine.”

  Elaine rolled her eyes.

  “Don’t roll your eyes at me. You are going to have to learn, sooner or later, that you can’t control everything. Or you’re going to get yourself killed.”

  “I’m fine. And so is she. Because of me.”

  Her father groaned and massaged his temple. His jaw was set as he lowered his arm, tapping his finger on the arm rest of his chair. “For the next week you will stay here, in this house, and you will think about the consequences of your actions.”

  “But the festival—” The main festival in Kreiss was over, but now there would be days of feasting and parties all over Tarith.