Captain Winther only grunted as he attempted and failed to peer down his nose at Cuthan. He took a few more puffs from his pipe and shrugged. “Weather has never stopped us before.”
“Good.” Cuthan rubbed his hands together. “Let’s be off then.”
Captain Winther tapped his pipe a few more times before placing it in a pouch. He waved to his crew members who were inside of the small tavern, stuffing their bellies with warm food and drink before returning to the bone-chilling, relentless forces of the sea. They pushed the dinghy out into the waves where it bobbed for a moment, its sides tilting dangerously close to the swelling waves. But at last, it righted itself, allowing Ilieus and Phyllis to wade out and climb inside with Artenvox and Cuthan.
The massive ship rocked far above their heads, and as they approached, Phyllis could hear the sailors singing the song of the sea. It helped them keep pace as they maintained the ship, each to their station like a delicate dancer.
Captain Winther held up two fingers. “Two days,” he grunted. “We will be in the north.”
“Well then, no below decks for us,” Cuthan countered, crossing his arms.
Captain Winther shrugged and walked away. He bellowed to his crew, “Raise the anchor. Let loose the sail. We move with the wind today!”
The ship shuddered and groaned as it moved forward while rain lashed fiercely on its deck. Ilieus moved closer to Phyllis. “Let’s go below decks, at least we’ll be dry,” she offered.
Phyllis glared at her, at first feeling annoyed with the suggestion, but it faded away as she looked at her sister. Perhaps Ilieus would finally reveal the secrets of the scroll. As they moved toward the hold, Captain Winther strode up to them. “Eh.” He pointed. “Take my cabin.”
“Thank you,” Ilieus breathed, reaching out to shake his hand, but the Captain brushed past her, guiding them to the cabin where he flung open the door.
It was a dark, dank room with an oil lamp burning on a table shoved into a corner. At least, that’s what it looked like to Phyllis. She was curious about the devices on the ship. Instead of candles, they had a base full of oil with a thick wick made out of some kind of whitish material she’d never seen. They had a glass vase over them and burned for long hours without flickering. The table had two chairs nailed down so it wouldn’t move with the pitching of the waves. The narrow bed was also nailed down, barely a foot from the table. Various ornaments hung from the ceiling, swinging as the ship moved back and forth. Phyllis had to hold on to the walls to keep her footing before she collapsed into the chair across from Ilieus.
Ilieus’s face was pale again as she fiddled with the folds of her cloak before she pulled out the scroll. Phyllis took the opportunity to check on Roturk who was wide awake and chattering in his basket, the water and waves keeping him lively.
“Will you tell me?” She turned to Ilieus. “What is written on the scroll?”
Ilieus paused, wavering between fear and desire. Her long fingers caressed the parchment as she laid it on the table and slowly unrolled it. “You want to know what it says?” she confirmed.
“Of course.” Phyllis nodded, surprised at how cautious Ilieus was acting.
“You know, Phyllis, I am learning how to control my visions.”
“You can see your visions now?” Phyllis leaned forward, excited. “How come you didn’t tell me?” she reprimanded.
“Control.” Ilieus correct Phyllis, bitting her lip. “It’s tricky. I don’t see the dark shapes anymore, and I can push them away if I concentrate. But I don’t know exactly what it is I’m supposed to know aside from what is written on this scroll. Everything else he said I either do not need to know or it will be revealed in time.”
“Tell me.” Phyllis reached out a hand to grasp her sister’s. “You know you can tell me these things.”
Ilieus smiled, attempting to dissipate the tension in the cabin, even though her eyes were tried. “I know it’s just…” she trailed off. She straightened up and spread out the scroll. “I know you can’t read it, but this scroll,” she stroked the ink lovingly, “is the key to finding the Clyear of Power and everything else we need to ensure the safety of future Blended Ones.”
“I don’t understand.” Phyllis paused, attempting to organize her thoughts. “I don’t understand why people hate the Blended Ones. What have we ever done to show we are dangerous? Why are they trying to get rid of us?”
“I think there is more than the eye can see,” Ilieus offered. “Listen to this:
“The eyes of the jeweled ones will see it first,
Hidden in the boughs in the forests of the north
Among the evergreen where the midlands dance.
Beware the blended, exiled ones.
Past the death the Marshswamps brings,
Hidden in rock the sunlight dares not part,
Beyond the green havens of the creatures of the wood,
Neither friend nor foe guards the keep,
A horse of silver and winged with power,
Keeping watch over the end of days.
There you seek, and you shall find
All you dream and fear and more.
The death and life of all awaits.
Seek, and ye shall find.
Find, and ye shall perish.
Perish, and ye shall live.”
“Say it again.” Phyllis furrowed her brow.
Ilieus slowly repeated the words of the scroll. “Don’t you see?!” She looked eagerly at Phyllis. “It’s the treasure map. It tells us how to find the Clyear.”
Phyllis shook her head. “No…I don’t quite see…not yet at least. I don’t understand it and what it means. But you do?” She looked to her sister, searching her light eyes for answers.
Ilieus began to roll up the scroll, smoothing out the wrinkles as she did. “Yes, I understand some of it, but it will be revealed as we continue to travel. Take it line-by-line. ‘The eyes of the jeweled ones.’ Did you not see Cuthan and Artenvox? Did you not look into their eyes?”
“Emeralds and sapphires, they are the jeweled ones?”
“But of course.” Ilieus nodded. “And ‘the forests of the north’ are the North Forests. The rest is yet a mystery to me, but it will become clear.”
Phyllis looked down at Roturk, who was beginning to grow used to the rocking of the ship and curled up for an afternoon nap. “But what of your visions? How does it help? Will you never have an episode again?”
Ilieus focused on rolling up the scroll, hiding her eyes from Phyllis’ daring stare. “We will see,” she whispered, shaking her head.
Phyllis opened her mouth to say more, but she changed her mind when she saw the guarded look on Ilieus’s face. Instead, she reached down a hand to touch the dranagin’s back. Its scales had been soft at first, but they grew solid as the dranagin grew bigger. Now they were hard and slippery to the touch, reminding her of the liquid from crushed grapes as she ran her hands over them. What was waiting for them in the North Forests? Cuthan had been silent about his time there. She squinted hard as she tried to remember what the tales of old said about the North Forests, and shuddered.
44
Shipwrecked
The rain continued long into the night, driving them northwest. Although Captain Winther did his best to keep the ship on course, the storm was relentless. On the second day of their journey by ship, Cuthan and Artenvox stood side by side on the deck, holding onto the rails as the ship pitched back and forth. “Ah.” Artenvox shook his dark head, and his eyes were looking down, watching the sea. “Have you heard the voices under the waves? Have they sung for you?”
Cuthan’s emerald eyes moved back and forth, scanning the horizon. Black clouds hung like saucers in the sky toward the west, moving toward them like a monster capturing its prey. “No. Their demons sang for me though. We got caught by a River Ravone. Have you seen one?”
Artenvox leaned over and propped his elbows on the railing. “No, in Midlands?”
“Just west of them. They
were strange creatures of a sort; you would have liked to fight them.” A slow smile started on the corner of Cuthan’s smug mouth. “It prefers mind games to physical violence, as you do.”
“As do you!” Artenvox retorted, standing a bit taller. “I’ll slay first, ask questions later. Tell me what else you saw. After all, you were there far longer than I.”
Cuthan smoothed his wet hair back. “The mountains.” He dropped his voice. “I want to go back to be sure, but I believe Ezincks live there.”
Artenvox’s head snapped up, his mouth took the shape of an “o,” and his eyes went wide. He spun to face Cuthan head on. “Ezincks? Are you sure?”
“I know.” Cuthan ducked his head. “They are rumored to be extinct, but I believe so.”
“Do you know what that means?” Artenvox’s voice leaped in excitement. “If they are truly alive, we have the Four People Groups in this world, just like in tales of old.” His fingers twitched as he spoke, dancing across the air, dodging raindrops. “I’ve always wanted to learn from them the secrets of the forest. What if they still hold the same lore as they did in the tales? Can you imagine?!” He squeezed Cuthan’s shoulder in his excitement.
“I know. I know. I know!” Cuthan’s eyes sparkled for a moment. “But calm down, we have to stay focused on finding this power source first, and then we can discover…”
His words trailed off as the ship gave a shuddering quake and came to a complete stop.
“Ciiiiii,” an unfortunate sailor screamed as he was thrown overboard in the sudden halt.
“What was that?” a voice shouted as the crew came running to look over the side of the ship.
“Who threw anchor?”
“I didn’t?”
“Did you do that?”
“Did you hear that?”
“What was it?”
“Captain!”
“Orders?”
Confused voices jolted through the air, even the rain seemed to halt as the ship shuddered and groaned. Captain Winther appeared at the helm. His deep voice bellowed over the noise as he took control of the wheel. “Attention! To yer stations shipmates! Prepare for battle!”
“Aye Captain!” the sailors shouted as they ran to their various stations. Rope flew through the air as the sailors muttered in rhythm under their breathes. “Heave. Ho. Heave. Ho.”
The ship began to move again as the sails were fully let out, and little by little, the ship began to pick up speed. Meanwhile, Captain Winther continued to bellow out orders; his white beard was shaking as he moved back and forth, spinning the wheel as he forced his ship to cut a path through the waves.
“Hurry!” voices called across the deck.
Cuthan and Artenvox turned to watch them, taking in the excited tension in the air. In one fluid motion, they looked at each other, their eyes mirroring the same thought. Like twins, they spun, turning from the deck to look down at the Sea, hands dropping to their sword hilts as they paused. Turning their jeweled eyes to the swirling waters, they saw a surge of foamy waves. As if releasing the built-up anticipation, the black clouds covering the heavens opened and released a torrent of rain upon them.
“We need rope!” Artenvox shouted, drawing his sword.
Cuthan moved his hand away from his sword. “What do we need rope for?” The deck tilted as he leaped across it, dodging sails and whipping up a thick coil of rope.
“Cuthan!” he heard his name screamed. Phyllis was running toward him. “What’s wrong?”
He grinned as he hauled up the length of rope and shook his head. She’d been wild, curious, and adventurous with him when they were children, but now her spunkiness had been replaced with something else. She was determined, not at reckless as he’d hoped, but she was catching on. He found himself thankful that she had not been lost to the Riders in Phillondorn after all. He draped the rope over his shoulder and shook his head urgently. “Hurry! Get back to the Captain’s cabin and stay there with Ilieus. Here!” He picked up another coil of rope and tossed it to her. “It may get rough out here; take this in case you need to tie yourself down so you don’t get thrown from the ship!” He couldn’t help but wink at her. They had only been on the ship for a day, and already another adventure was buzzing around him.
“Okay.” She nodded as she picked up the rope that had tumbled down around her feet. She moved nimbly over the deck, but Cuthan didn’t stay to watch.
He dashed back over to the side of the ship where Artenvox stood, his mouth open in horror as he pointed. Cuthan did not have time to reach the edge before the mischievous grin dropped from his face. He gazed up at the slimy, round, dark head of a monstrous sea serpent. It rose above the waves and continued to climb, its thick body spreading like an umbrella over the rain. It rose, wrapping its long coils around the ship, as the unending body quivered and tightened.
“Take aim!” Captain Winther was shouting. Around him, sailors were shouting and pulling harpoons through the dashing rain. “Ready!”
The face of the monster rose above the ship, and it opened its lipless mouth. The smooth head was twice as long as Cuthan’s body. He found himself barely breathing as Captain Winther ordered, “Fire,” and the ship snapped.
A crack split the air, almost deafening the ears of those who were near it. Sailors ducked as wood shattered and flew, breaking the ship into pieces. With a yell, the burly Crons let loose with a volley of harpoons, striking against the rough skin of the sea serpent. It surged forward and opened its mouth, hissing, to reveal two long, curved, yellow fangs, glinting from the roof of its mouth. Golden scales stood up on its back as its body curved over the ship, and it turned clear gray eyes, round as pearls, to stare at the sailors that dared accost it. Roaring it turned and unwrapped its coils before diving head first into the middle of the ship.
“Abandon ship!”
“Jump!”
“Swim!”
Cuthan watched the ship shatter. The wood underneath his feet broke, and he fell backward, watching the black and gold scales of the serpent ripple away. The sea churned around the nimble body of the serpent and the floating blocks of the ship. Cuthan looked up as he fell, shaking his head in disbelief. They had only just started; how could they possibly be failing now? His arms swung out, grasping for something solid to break his fall. Seconds later, his body slammed into the water with such force that he almost screamed. With the wind knocked out of him, he accidentally breathed in while he was under water. His head surfaced above water, and he coughed, spitting the tangy seawater from his mouth. Around him the ship was in chaos, the last of the sea serpent was still disappearing under water, unending the floating pieces of the ship with its tail.
Cuthan gasped as he bobbed in the water, shaking water out of his eyes in time to see the crew members swimming for the remaining three boats that were intact. They were still shouting, and a number of them were cursing as they swam. Some were still pulling ropes with three-pronged arrows attached. He counted them slowly as they floated in the cold waters. Captain Winther was holding on to his ship’s wheel and bellowing orders. The last of the sea serpent had disappeared but hadn’t risen up yet. If it did…Cuthan shook his head and began to swim toward the nearest boat.
The sails floated ominously in the water as barrels and bits of driftwood bobbed.
“Ah.” Artenvox had already climbed aboard one of the vessels. “Come on then.”
“What a mess.” Cuthan grabbed Artenvox’s arm as he scrambled aboard, landing face down in the boat among others legs.
As he sat up, he found himself across from a meaty sailor with a scowl set deep in his rugged face. He was using a piece of wood as an oar, powerfully pulling it through the waters.
“Aim for the islands!” Captain Winther was shouting. “There should be several scattered around here to the west.”
Cuthan turned to Artenvox and bent his head, whispering. “Will the islands have ships? We need a ship to get back to landmass.”
“Ah.” Artenvox shrugged. “How
should I know? I haven’t been to any other island aside from Wind Fresh.”
Even as they rowed forward in their boats, the elements fought against them. The rain continued to pour down in a white dash, hitting so hard the droplets hurt. The waves complained as they rose as high as ten feet in the air, only to come hurtling down, tossing pieces of the ships, chairs, bedding, food, barrels of ale, maps, scrolls, and logs in its wake.
Ilieus was sobbing; her own scroll was lost at sea. Phyllis was too frightened for tears, yet she felt some other emotion taking over, blinding her to the fear that shook her body. They were going to die, cut off by the storms of the sea and that hideous monster. She was enraged. It was too soon, and there was nothing she could do to outrun the storm and the creature. Perhaps…perhaps if she had a sword or a bow, she could stop the creature. If she controlled the elements, she would stand up in the boat and order the wind and the waves to pause and let them escape before it continued its wailing temper tantrum. All the same, the waters turned an inky black, and the boat she was in tipped dangerously with the next influx of waves, almost capsizing into the deep. She grabbed a hold of the edge while the rain punished her fingers. She glared at Ilieus. There was no use for tears, crying would do them no good. Reaching down into her lap with her free hand, she felt for her tiny dranagin. Roturk wasn’t there. She felt around in a panic, attempting to peer into the rain. She’d had him when she climbed aboard; surely he wasn’t down there in the waves, drowning.
A shadow hung over the blackening sky, and a hiss of anger roared over the wind and the crashing waves. The sea serpent reared its head again; this time the flattened horns on its head stood up as well as its golden mane of scales. It dived and resurfaced closer to them; it was so close they could see the blueish shimmer of its hard scales in the dim light. Phyllis had a sharp intake of breath; she had never seen a creature so fearsome or so beautiful. Its body snaked its way between the boats while the sailors roared and shouted, loosening harpoons as best they could, but the lack of height and speed rendered them useless. The sea serpent blasted through them like toys, tipping two of the boats over, just for fun, with its rattling tail. Opening its mouth, it bared its yellow fangs, two of them the size of Phyllis’s face. Phyllis recoiled in horror when she saw what it was after. It must have smelled it as soon as they set sail, even though it was only a babe, it wasn’t dangerous.
The Complete Four Worlds Series Page 54
