By: Bryant R. Haake, Honors College, Presidential Honors Student, English Major
Crimson left on a suicide mission soon after, using her shark form to head off into the open ocean in search of the most crucial aspect of their plan.
Quirin had informed them that, while the militia of Athens was powerful, their armada was much weaker. However, he was sure that it had enough ships to take them down if they started fighting. However, getting that entire armada into the Owl Den would be a suicide mission for them, and the Forsaken was deemed fast enough in reaction speed to take them down one by one if they tried attacking.
The only issue now was waiting. They could technically stay in the Owl Den for a long while, but soon enough other ships would want back in, and there were very few visiting ships still left in the Den. The problem wasn’t that they couldn’t survive here. It was the boredom and the waiting.
Mainly the waiting.
The ship was set and ready to sail, and they had officially left port and were floating about the cavern. Bandy was left in charge of the ship’s helm, but no one else had anything to do. Heilyn had once told Jacob, “There’s always something to do on a ship,” but that only applied to ships that weren’t the Forsaken. Other ships had lazy crews, bums, slackers, and were often much bigger and required more attention. The Forsaken wasn’t like that. Everyone who worked on the ship was there because they wanted to be, and they stayed because they wanted to.
Even the worst chores were always done, and some of the worst—swabbing the deck, cleaning barnacles off the side and underbelly, cleaning the cannons—were done often by the ship’s leadership. Jacob and Vexx had always taken care of the barnacles, which usually left Heilyn to swab the deck, and Deighly to clean the cannons.
Despite his usual enthusiasm, realizing he’d now have to clean the barnacles alone made Jacob groan. He’d already mourned Captain Vexx for the most part; it wasn’t surprising to hear about his death, nor did it reopen any wounds. What did hurt were those small changes. He’d never get another kind greeting from Vexx, he’d never have another lesson on using gifts, he’d never clean barnacles with him again. It didn’t feel right.
In their down time, the crew began to separate into groups. Most of the crew gathered around a table below deck to play cards or some other game. Jacob didn’t check to see what it was. Deighly was up in the bird’s nest again, “keeping an eye out,” as usual (Jacob was pretty sure he was napping). Soos was in the kitchen cooking up a snack of some sort for the crew, citing his reasons for the early meal on, “…not going into battle on an empty stomach.”
There were only a few people left after that. Quirin had found himself a nice chair in the corner of the commons below deck to sit and read. Georgiana was sticking close to Jacob. The oddest part was that Cassandra and Heilyn were both keeping Bandy company. It wasn’t unusual for Heilyn to hang around Bandy per se, but it was strange to Jacob seeing Heilyn so invested in a conversation with a woman. He’d never shown any interest in conversing with most people before, unless he knew them personally, and he’d certainly never shown any interest in romance.
It was possible that Jacob was reading the situation wrong—Rivers, he’d done that in the opposite way with Georgiana for years—but that didn’t seem right to him. There was definitely something to it, at least from his perspective. Knowing Heilyn, he’d probably laugh and call him crazy if he brought it up.
At one point, after wandering around the ship for a while, giving Georgiana the full tour, they ended up resting on the bow’s bannister. One of the best parts about working on a ship was the view, something Jacob still hadn’t tired of in his eighteen, almost nineteen years of life. The view here was less inspiring than that of the sea, but the water was still something to behold. Without the constant movement of waves or ships, the water was clear enough to finally see the bottom. Jacob didn’t usually go into the city part of the Den when they visited, instead preferring to swim and look at the water.
Georgiana hadn’t ever been of course, and so when Jacob pointed out how well one could see the bottom of the cavern, she began to squeal about how beautiful it was.
Jacob had to agree. It was beautiful.
“So, how are you liking the ship so far?” Jacob asked.
“It’s nice, Jakey,” Georgiana replied with a smile. “I assume we’ll be here for a while, huh?”
“Aye, I would guess the same.” Jacob sighed. “I’m still sorry about all of this.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Georgiana said, bumping his shoulder with her own. “You’re not the one who attacked my town, right? The only thing you’ve done is give me a rock, and it turned out to be a great thing for all of us.”
“Yeah, I know I didn’t attack Brokenbeaux,” Jacob said, “but if I keep thinking, if I hadn’t been there when I was… I don’t know. I know I had no way of knowing, but it just feels bad, y’know?”
“Hmm. I get it, but I really want you to try and forget it, okay? I promise you, I don’t blame you at all for what happened to my town, or my dad.” She was smiling, but Jacob could see moisture pooling in her eyes. “I do wish it hadn’t happened sometimes.”
Jacob stared at her. She rolled her eyes.
“Okay, a lot of times. Pretty much all the time, in fact. However,” she continued, laying her head against his shoulder, “if it hadn’t happened, I don’t know if I ever would’ve left Brokenbeaux. My dad never did. He was born and raised, and I’m sure I probably would’ve followed in his steps. At the very least, that event’s repercussions have given me the chance to be closer to my favorite person.”
Favorite person.
The words echoed in Jacob’s mind. She could’ve called him any number of things, but she chose those words. They felt nice. He shivered, causing her to lift her head.
No, don’t do that…
Jacob lifted his arm and put it around her shoulders, pulling her closer. He tried laying his head on her shoulder, but stopped before making any actual motions. That seemed silly.
“Hey Jakey, can I ask you a question?”
“Aye, Georgie. What’s on yer mind?”
“Earlier when we were on the shark… sorry, this is weird for me to say, I think.” She fanned herself as if they were sailing over lava. “I’m sorry, just forget I said anything.”
She turned and began walking away, pulling herself out of his grasp. Jacob reached to grab her hand, and she gave no resistance.
“Hey, whatever’s on your mind, I’m here to listen. What’s it that you need?”
She was breathing heavily now to the point of hyperventilation. Jacob placed his other hand on her back and held her still, keeping her from falling over.
“Whoa, are you okay? You’re not looking okay. Your face is all red, and– hey, slow down! Calm your breathing. What’s wrong?”
Georgiana’s breathing didn’t slow down, but she didn’t speed up either. She tried talking in between gasps of air.
“I… I didn’t know… how– gasp… how difficult… this part… would be– gasp,” she stammered.
“This part… what–”
Jacob’s eyes shot open, and suddenly he also felt like hyperventilating.
You two are hopeless, Ren muttered.
Jacob calmed himself, taking long, deep breaths to slow his breathing. He stood up straight and stretched, trying to shake out his nerves.
Jacobson, just do it already, I swear to–
Jacob pulled Georgiana up to him and hugged her tight, ensuring she could fully breath without her lungs compressing. He matched her breathing and slowly began to calm his own again, feeling the same change in Georgiana’s. After a few minutes, they were both breathing normally again, though her face, and he assumed his as well, were both red as apples.
Jacob smiled. “Can I–?”
“You better,” she warned.
It wasn’t anything special by the means of a bystander’s point of view. It was quick and to the point. To Jacob and Georgiana, though, there was beauty in simplicity. The crazy events of the past few weeks flooded into Jacob’s mind, all the dangers and insane encounters they’d had. They both had gods in their heads for crying out loud.
Jacob put his arms over her shoulders and kissed her again, longer this time. He felt taller with her, like he didn’t have to try to meet the height set for him. It was easier, and it felt natural. He felt silly for not having done it before, and having waited so long to try.
They pulled away at the same time, not leaving each others’ embrace, but keeping the distance between them at a space that was the most comfortable for them both. They both smiled, looking into each others’ eyes.
Her eyes are pretty, Jacob thought. They’re like actual amber stones, but framed in a much lovelier case.
“We’re not going too fast here, are we?” Georgiana asked in a whisper.
“I don’t think so,” Jacob said. “Not if you’re okay with it. It was just a kiss. I mean– no, I meant, like… argh, I didn’t mean it wasn’t good, I thought it was good, really good, but I mean–”
She pecked him again, then pulled back and smiled widely.
“Nah, I think this is okay for now,” she said. “I like this.”
REEEEEEEEEEET!
The screech echoed through the cavern like a rubber ball, hitting them all square in their ears. Jacob and Georgiana both pulled back and covered theirs, trying to block out the horrible noise.
“The tiamat didn’t make that noise last time!” Jacob shouted. “I think it’s stopped now!”
“Are you sure?” Georgiana shouted back. “I can’t tell because my ears are ringing!”
They both carefully removed their hands and, upon confirming the noise was gone, ran over to the helm. Heilyn had already taken the wheel from Bandy and was turning it as far as it could go towards the cave opening. The screech filled the cavern once again, and everyone but Heilyn rushed to cover their ears. A new sound like that of the crack of thunder boomed through the cavern, following the screech and overlaying with a third screech. Heilyn hurried the ship along as fast as it could go given the lack of wind.
They rounded one last bend, the whole trip taking almost two entire, tense minutes as the crew worked to ready the ship for possible battle. The scene before them was intense, but Jacob couldn’t help but laugh at the scene.
The tiamat was firing a beam of lightning at the nearest ship while thrashing its tail at another. There were bruises showing through the scales, and spears, arrows, and even a few swords sticking out from under its plated armoring. The cause of its wild thrashing was the small annoyance firmly attached to its head, using her recovered cleaver as a handle.
Crimson’s second cleaver was rusted and bent in slightly odd ways, but it was still stuck fast in the skull of the tiamat. Somehow, the beast hadn’t died from the wound, possibly because its skull was too thick. Whatever the reason, Crimson seemed more than happy to take out her frustration on the beast, using her other cleaver to hack away at the back of the skull, using the blunt edge to whack it over and over.
One of the ships was manned almost entirely by duplicates of Ballena. Upon one of them seeing their ship, they all turned and stared eerily at their approach. The one at the helm of the ship immediately began turning to head them off, but the sudden movement caught the eye of the tiamat.
The electric sea serpent lunged forward, biting down onto the upper deck of Ballena’s ship and shattering much of it into splinters with a sudden burst of lightning, followed almost instantly afterwards by another crack of thunder.
“Jacob!” Heilyn yelled over the commotion. “Do you see the opening?”
Jacob glanced around, looking for what Heilyn was talking about. A moment later, he saw it. At the back end of the tiamat was the sinking ship it had battered to pieces, and behind that was a narrow strip of sea just wide enough for them to fit through. Jacob could see the current flowing around the area, almost making a whirlpool of sorts. If they tried to go through without enough speed or control, they would be trapped and left at the mercy of both the Athenian armada and the tiamat.
“Aye, Captain, I see it!”
“Do you still know how to guide a ship with those tentacles of yours?”
Jacob looked back in surprise, nodding furiously to Heilyn.
“Aye, of course I do! Why?”
“‘Cause, you’re ‘bout to lead us through a deathtrap!”
“What?!”
“You heard me, Jacob!” Heilyn pointed down. “You’re going to have to guide us through. If you’ve got the tentacles, then you can swim. Now, get down there and get us out of here.”
“Capt– Heilyn, I… I can’t do–”
“Yes, Jacob,” Heilyn said, looking him in the eyes, “you can. I know you can. You’ve got this.” He smiled as if they were sharing an inside joke. “Now, give yer girlfriend a kiss for good luck and get going!”
Jacob tried ignoring the fact that meant Heilyn had definitely seen them earlier, instead choosing to focus on his given command. He turned, planted a kiss on Georgiana’s cheek, turned to leave, was grabbed by Georigana and kissed properly, then shoved away as she yelled after him, “I believe in you, too, Jakey!”
He nodded back at Heilyn, Georgiana, and a very confused-looking Cassandra, then jumped overboard, yelling in the process, “Ren, please tell me I can swim with these things!”
Of course you can, Jacobson, Ren replied. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t tried yet. I mean, you are a sailor.
Jacob hit the water and instantly summoned tentacles from his back and arms, attaching them to the side of the ship. He held his breath for as long as he could before needing to surface.
Gasping, he tried asking, “Can I breathe underwater or anything, too?”
Hmmm… you should be able to, Ren replied. In fact, it should have been second nature to you, so I don’t know why… ah, I see. Once more, you just haven’t tried. It will feel unnatural to you, but you’re going to need to take a breath underwater.
“What in the Rivers can’t I do with this gift?” Jacob yelled.
My gift to you is an extension of myself. Anything I can do, you can do as well. You will learn all my skills in time. For now, do as I say. Don’t take a breath before diving. Just dive, and you’ll be fine.
Jacob shook his head, staring apprehensively at the water for a moment before thinking, Ah, what the heck, and diving in. He instantly took a deep breath, lungs stinging as the salt water rushed into them. It didn’t feel natural, but he didn’t feel any terrible pain or the need to cough, and so he tried another breath, then another. It was just like breathing on land, except down here it seemed to take a little more effort, like the water didn’t want to leave his lungs when he exhaled.
Once underwater, Jacob could see the full length of the tiamat in the distance. Underwater, he was much closer to the beast than he would ever have hoped for, but he pushed the thought from his mind and focused on the task at hand. The floor of the sea was about thirty feet down, plenty of distance for him to use his tentacles.
Jacob extended the tentacles from his back and wrapped them around the ship, making sure to wrap them all around the mast up top, or at least what he thought was the mast. The tentacles on his forearms extended lower, finding purchase along the floor of the ocean. There wasn’t much distance between the Forsaken and the dead spot now, and Jacob began to push as hard as he could.
His tentacles were only a little stronger than his own body, but there were more than thirty of them working simultaneously now to push the ship. With all the strength he could muster into his gift, plus some as he felt Ren helping, he pushed and pushed, straining against the tide and guiding the ship through the dead spot.
Jacob’s eyes squeezed tight with the effort of pushing the ship. His ears rushed with blood, blocking out all other sounds. He could feel the ship stall directly above him, and he adjusted the tentacles to move behind the ship, putting himself at an angle against the ship, and gave one final push, feeling the Forsaken chug its way through and into free waters.
Jacob breathed out a sigh of relief as he stopped pushing, retracting the tentacles and relaxing his muscles. The blood stopped rushing to his ears, and he was able to hear… nothing?
That’s not right, Jacob thought.
He opened his eyes and instantly regretted it. There, right before him, staring into his own eyes, was the massive tiamat. Its body was coiled on the floor of the ocean like a rattlesnake ready to strike. Its fangs were bared like a snarling dog, lightning sparking from them. Jacob could feel the buzz of electricity along his skin, tensing up his muscles in their relaxed position. He tried to summon tentacles, trying to bring them forth with all the will he could muster, but they wouldn’t appear. It was as if they were also a part of his current muscles, unable to move due to the electricity coursing through the ocean.
Jacob had enough time to think, Well, if this is the end, at least I got to kidd Georgie before I died, before the tiamat lunged at him.
Jacob’s eyes reflexively shut, unable to dodge or protect himself in any way. He tensed up even further, ready for the biting teeth to pierce his skin, but the blow never came. Instead, he could feel his muscles relaxing, and the water around him rushed with activity. He opened his eyes and saw a flash of red hair fly by him, being toted along as the tiamat once again thrashed.
Crimson had her legs hooked into the bottom jaw of the tiamat, her fists wrapped around the electric fangs. Her body convulsed with shock after shock, but she kept her hold, teeth gritted together as she gave a bloodcurdling scream and suddenly grew to twice her size. Despite being a sea serpent, it did not seem that the tiamat had the snake-like ability to unhinge its jaw, because as Crimson grew in size, so did the split in the tiamat’s cheeks, ripping skin and scales and filling the salty water with red before one final screech left it without a jawline.
Crimson floated through the water, both cleavers strapped to her back once more, body unmoving. The tiamat’s body floated slowly to the bottom of the ocean. Jacob hurriedly swam over to Crimson, wrapping his tentacles around her and swimming to the surface as fast as he could, following the wake of the Forsaken. Despite her condition, Jacob almost laughed as he realized what Crimson was still grasping. A final trophy taken from her fated victim: the fangs of the tiamat, electric blue lightning-like figures burnt into the bone.
It seemed that not even a dreaded tiamat could take on Crimson and live to tell the tale. The same could not be said for Crimson, as not only had she taken down the tiamat, but aside from needing a full-day’s bedrest, she had survived.
When she came-to, Georgiana was fast asleep in Jacob’s lap, a tricky balancing act given their slight height difference. Crimson gave them both a weird, bleary-eyed look at first before her eye widened.
“Naw, don’t tell me I missed you finally getting up the guts to ask her out or something.”
“Something like that, Crimson,” Jacob said, quickly backtracking to add on, “Captain.”
Crimson groaned and shook her head. “Nah, you don’t gotta do that right now, squido. I’m not a captain if my crew is working under another captain. Just… make sure you remember who saved your sorry arses over and over these past few weeks, aight?”
Jacob chuckled and nodded. “Aye, Crimson. Truce?”
“Truce… Jacob.”
The room went silent for a moment before they both made a face and shook their heads in unison.
“Nope, stick to the nicknames, Crimson,” Jacob said. “I don’t think my name sounds right coming from you.”
“Agreed.”
Later on, Jacob got to officially reacquaint himself with the crew, celebrate his return and the addition of three—yes, three, including Crimson after some convincing—new members of the crew, and finally meet Cassandra.
Their talk was stiff and estranged, though that may have been because Heilyn was with them the whole time and Cassandra kept glancing at him, like she was looking for some sort of approval or permission to continue. Jacob was confused the entire time, knowing Heilyn would never have told her to ask him before speaking or anything like that, but even through the awkwardness, his suspicions were at least partially confirmed. Cassandra was attracted to Heilyn, whether he knew it or not.
I’ll have to worry about that later on, Jacob thought. Then again, I may not be the best person to give Heilyn, or Cassandra for that matter, tips on that sort of thing.
One thing he still couldn’t wrap his head around was Cassandra’s prophetess abilities. They certainly had worked against the Athenian armada, but did that mean they always had to be correct? Did she know anything about the prophecy Dr. Cleary had mentioned? Too many questions swam through his head, and he didn’t feel like asking them. Maybe some other day. Instead, he did what he’d started doing when he needed to calm down, or wanted to be happy, or just wanted to see the most beautiful girl in the world. He visited with Georgiana.
Since they were now both crew members, they didn’t get to spend quite as much time together as Jacob would’ve liked, but considering they were both fast workers, it wasn’t too much time spent apart. They both could usually get away with working for about four hours a day before finally getting to spend time with each other again. Most of the time they just sat below deck or against the bow’s railing and talked. Jacob still loved talking with her, and he began to keep mental notes of all the things he wanted to do for her, starting with getting her some sort of plant she could keep on board and take care of.
He also began to truly warm up to Ren. Georgiana was the catalyst for that, actually. She had been trying to listen to Pep more often, and in doing so had found out she had several other different abilities. One she found out was how to summon spirits which didn’t have a clear signifier to their death, and was even able to make a few appear on board the ship from when they’d been slain for assaulting the crew. Jacob didn’t really understand much about her gift, though Georgiana explained that it had a lot to do with blood in some way.
Ren was finally able to teach him the basics of camouflage, enough to where Jacob could change the color and texture of his tentacles. He even learned that changing the texture in certain ways had effects on their durability and strength, which then led him to find that he could use them as shields, or enhance their strength to exuberant amounts, more than triple what he previously thought was possible.
In total, they sailed for three whole months without ever docking. By the end, they were running only on rations, and even those were getting scarce. Before they called their search for a cove quits, though, they finally found a place Heilyn deemed perfect for them. It was an inlet to a small island, protected on both sides by steep cliffs which rose about fifty feet into the sky before giving way to thirty acres of forest. The entire island was only forty acres, but that was enough for them.
As soon as they hit land, Soos went off to find food, taking Bandy, Crimson, and a few more crew members with him. The rest of them helped unpack their building supplies, and assisted Hacksmith with building the beginnings of a homestead of sorts. His plan was to build the houses on the sides of the cliff, using some of the local forest wood to supplement their current supply when they ran out. Luckily he’d bought an exceedingly large amount of small metal supplies, about fifteen barrels in total, each one full to the brim with nails, hinges, fittings, and much more.
The building process was well on the way, and a week into finding the inlet, with the constant help of the whole crew, Hacksmith was able to finish the first building, a small shack set up on the cliff. It was nice enough, though for now it was used to store food, and the crew continued to stay in the Forsaken while progress continued on the cove.
Georgiana had set up a little garden a little ways into the forest, borrowing a little bit of wood from Hacksmith in order to section off plots of land. It was there that Jacob found her one day, on her knees and in the dirt.
“Heya,” Jacob said as he kneeled down next to her.
Georgiana smiled and bumped his shoulder with her own. “Hey, Jakey. Come to help?”
“Whatever you wish, Georgie.”
She smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Good. Help me plant these carrots. I don’t know how well they’ll do here, but I’ve got the seeds and they’re not useful in any alchemical concoctions I know of, so I figured I’d try them.”
Jacob nodded and took a handful of seed from her. He sprinkled them across the dirt, following the pattern Georgiana had set out. They were all in lines, each line set about a foot and a half apart. They then covered the seeds and watered them, finally adding some sort of sweet-smelling liquid on top, just a drizzle.
“That should help with the taste if they actually grow,” Georgiana explained. “I’m only using it on one line in case they don’t grow well. Then I won’t have wasted any.”
“Smart.”
“I like to think I am sometimes,” Georgiana giggled.
She wiped her hands off on her overalls and stood up, holding out a hand to help Jacob up. He took it and came up, eye to eye with her.
“Hmm…” Georgiana studied him for a moment. “You’ve gotten taller. Rivers, I’d say you’re even my height now. Did you hit a growth spurt overnight?”
Jacob shrugged sheepishly. “Is that okay?”
Georgiana smiled. “You’re you. That’s okay with me.”
A whistle sounded in the distance, signaling that dinner was ready. Jacob could smell cooked vegetables from here, mixed in with fruits of all kinds, many of them ground into sauces, pastes, and jellies, but some were roasted, sauteed, boiled, or any other way Soos thought he could make them. They didn’t currently have a way to get meat, but Quirin was working on a possible solution, one he seemed really confident would work soon.
Jacob smiled at Georgiana and planted a kiss on each of her cheeks, finishing with one on her mouth.
“You really like doing that, don’t you?” she asked.
“How could I not? Will you keep letting me?”
“I’ll let you know next time,” she said. “Now c’mon, I don’t wanna get stuck behind Crimson in the dinner line again. Food’s waiting.”
“Aye aye, ma’am.”
Epilogue: Silver And Gold
The prisoners were dehydrated.
It wasn’t an uncommon strategy to get captives to talk, but it did seem particularly cruel. First they put the bags over their heads and only allowed them to remove them while eating, and then they were only given a single cup of water a day, enough to sustain them, but not enough to give them strength of body.
All they knew about their current circumstances was that they were in a cave. Their cell was a hollowed out room in the side of the cave, barred from the outside with a wooden door. That wouldn’t have been a problem for some of them under normal circumstances, but a door reinforced with steel bars was a problem.
There were three of them in total, though two of them had suggested there could be more prisoners in other cells. The third knew better. He knew the Company registry better than most, and he knew that he and the other two were special. Their gifts were undocumented, completely unique in their function and power.
“I’m telling you both,” the dark-skinned man rasped, “Writ is telling me there have to be other prisoners. He ain’t heard of no one else like us, but he knows they’re out there, so naturally they gotta already be captured, like us.”
“Hydi keeps saying there’s probably others here that aren’t like us, and that we’s all being in the same cell is a mad co-inn-see-dense,” the frail, young boy said. He could be anywhere from fourteen to twenty, but his skin clung so close to his frame that he looked like an unhealthy eight-year-old.
The final man didn’t say anything back. Despite his age, the other two didn’t care to hear what he had to say, anyway, so there was no point in responding. He was sitting directly in front of the door like usual, trying to feel for any water in the area. If he could just increase his range, try hard enough, then maybe…
He reached out an arm, straining to keep it up, and placed the palm of his hand against the wood. It was rough against his easily-cut, thin skin, and he still had splinters from the dozens of other times he’d tried this. He’d initially tried picking them out, but after one of the opened wounds got infected, he had to stop in order to preserve his hand.
The results of his experiment were no different this time from any of the other times. He could feel the eyes of the two other men on his back, could hear the cloth of one of their potato-sack-tunics shake as one of them shook their head in disdain.
“Give it up, oldie,” the voice of the dark-skinned man said. “We’re here, and that’s it. Save your strength for survival, not escape.”
“I say let him continue,” the boyish man said. “If we hide his dead body long enough, or disguise him or something, then we can mooch off the extra servings they bring us for a while.”
“Nah, ‘at won’t work. They’ll figure it out too soon, and then they’d punish us in some bad way. Best to let him live, and tell them when he dies.”
“They ain’t gonna reward us or nothin’.”
“They won’t punish us, neither.”
These idiots are weak, Tune said in the older man’s head. Hydra and Triton always were dim, but I figured they could pick out Avatars better than this.
“It’s not their fault,” the older man muttered. “They’re scared and tired.”
So are you, Edmund, and yet you’ve not complained once. Let me take control, and we will–
“No.”
The word was barely a whisper, but it quieted the room in an instant. Even Tune went quiet, though Edmund knew it wouldn’t last long.
“I won’t allow you to take control for as long as I have breath in my lungs and strength in my bones, no matter how feeble that strength or shaky those breaths may be.”
I am not your enemy, Edmund.
“Tell that to–”
Edmund stopped suddenly and listened. There were footsteps heading down the hall outside, echoing off the stone walls in a pattern of fear. Edmund slowly moved back from the door, not wanting to get hit if the footsteps were meant for them. The only other thing in this direction from what Edmund had gathered from passing conversations was the kitchen, though he’d not heard the echo of a dropped pan or sizzling dish a single time. It was still possible the footsteps would continue on, but unlikely.
Unfortunately, he was correct. The sound of a key scraping the inside of a lock filled the quiet room, killing the already sour mood. The hinges screamed as the door swung open. The bottom corner of the wooden frame grazed Edmund’s bare foot as it swung past, not going fast enough to injure him, but he could feel it leave behind a few new splinters. They weren’t common on his feet due to the stone floors, but the feeling of them entering his skin was the same down there as it was in his fingers and palms.
“Let’s get going, you three,” a gruff voice said.
One by one, their hoods were ripped from their heads. Edmund blinked in the dim light, lit only by the man’s lantern, a new fixture which was dim enough not to have shone through the cloth hoods, but bright enough to let them see their surroundings. Not that there was anything new to see.
“I said, get yer sorry arses up off the damned floor!”
The man kicked Edmund in his leg, bruising the paper skin and probably tearing a bit of it. Edmund gritted his teeth against the pain and just nodded, using what little strength he had to climb up off the floor. It took him half a minute just to do that, but he was faster to do so than his fellow prisoners.
“At least one of you might live up to the boss’s loud-mouthing. C’mon, I don’t got all day.”
“Tut tut tut, mister Zeph,” a new voice said from around the corner. “We don’t want to treat our prisoners poorly today, now do we? Afterall, it’s a special day.”
Zeph led the three prisoners out of their cell and stopped them in the stone hallway. Leaning against the wall next to the cell was a young man, likely in his twenties by Edmund’s guess, who wore nothing but shades of green. He had on a tricorn fitted with a crown of rainbow lorikeet feathers. He had on a mask that only covered his eyes and nose, leaving his mouth free to be interpreted.
“Welcome, gentlemen, to the best day of your lives! You may call me Harpy if you wish, though I recommend you not call anyone here anything until you are spoken to. You must save your surely frail voices. That being said…”
Harpy snapped and Zeph sighed. He walked behind Harpy and picked up a tray, on which were three cups filled with water. He held them out to the prisoners and, after some hesitation, they each took one. Edmund eyed the drink, fingers twitching as he felt the power he could wield if he was stronger of body. Despite his urges, he instead downed the glass quickly, soothing his dry throat and coating his crusted lips with all-too-needed moisture.
“Ahh, good,” Harpy said as if he had been the one to drink the water. “Now that you’ve all got that in your bodies, let’s get down to business.”
He clapped his hands, and suddenly the scenery changed. The walls moved backwards, opening into a much larger cavern. The stone revealed people, too, dozens of them bearing witness to this truly divine feat of power. In front of them, sitting on a black stone throne raised on a dias in the middle of a watery moat, was a man with dark hair, deeply tanned skin, and scarred skin rippling over tight muscles. He wore no tricorn, but immediately Edmund knew this man was in charge. If the rank of “captain” existed among these people, this man held the title.
The same stream that flowed into the throne’s moat made two additional circles around the cavern, clearly having been carved rather than naturally formed. Five streams connected them all, spanning out into five different tunnels that ran off into darkness. The water, when taken as a whole, gave the appearance of a spider’s web, though that may have just been the mentality of the prisoners. It was hard not to feel like you were caught in a web when you were weak and at the mercy of whoever these people were.
“Gentlemen.” The man on the throne spoke with a heavy accent Edmund couldn’t place, and yet his voice sounded somewhat familiar. “Welcome to the Den of Wolves, shah. I hope you’ve all been enjoying your stay?”
The people around them—Edmund couldn’t help but think of them as the man’s crew—laughed nastily. Their snarling voices reminded Edmund of a wild beast he’d seen once in captivity. A “hyena” if he recalled correctly, some type of dog with a laugh instead of a bark.
The boyish man coughed. “What are we–”
“I see you have met my illusionist,” the man on the throne said. His face was twisted in a sneer, and despite the look of the stone seating, he was leaned back as if he couldn’t be more comfortable. “Now, let me make the rules here clear. I am the one who will speak. I am the only one who will speak, unless I directly ask you all a quest-ee-yuun. Is that understood, shah?”
The two other prisoners mumbled their confirmation. Edmund stayed quiet, silently glaring at the throned man.
“Hmm, you two are compliant, I see. You, on the other hand…” The man stared at Edmund for a second, then smiled. His canine teeth were replaced by metal fillings, one gold, one silver. His eyes were of a similar coloration, though they were matched in the opposite way of his teeth. Edmund only noticed them because, as the man stared at him, his eyes briefly flashed with light, just bright enough to notice. After they dimmed, he smiled.
“Captain Edmund Vexx. The great Sunspot of the sea. I was ecstatic when I heard Harpy here was actually able to capture you. You’re a legend to us, shah. The king of the ocean, unkillable and undefeatable. Why do you think I sent such a fleet after you under the power of the full blood moon?”
The man chuckled and shook his head. “Shah, lemme let you in on a leetle secret of my own. Those men, I’ll miss them all. They were good men. However, if it was their sacrifice that brought you to me, then so be it. That’s how much I wanted this here meeting, shah. Do you understand what I mean?”
“I can’t say I do,” Vexx replied quietly.
“What’s that now? Harpy, get these men some more water now. They’re clearly not up to this here talk, now.”
All three men were given another cup of water, which each of them gulped down greedily. Vexx tried to keep his thirst from showing, but he was sure his body language was betraying him.
“Alright, you’ve had another drink. Repeat yourself now, shah.”
“I said,” Vexx said again, louder and more defiantly, “I can’t say I do.”
“Hmm. Well, that seems more like a you problem than my problem.”
Edmund, there’s plenty of water around now. You should–
“Shut it.”
The man on the throne smiled. “Talking to imaginary friends, eh shah?” His crew once again laughed, and he chuckled along with them this time, then put up a hand, immediately stopping the noise. “Nah, I know who you’re talking to, and I’m sure I know what he’s trying to say. By all means, shah, go ahead and try. Kill me. Use your gift to wring my neck, drown me in a torrent of water. Get revenge for Brokenbeaux and your dear friend, Avin Buckley. Do it.”
Both men stared at each other, the tension in the air winding so tightly that Vexx began to wish he had his scimitar to slash through it. Slowly, Vexx raised a hand, and the waters around the man began to swirl, going along with their current, faster and faster and faster, until they burst up in a rain of daggers, each spike made from the river water. The daggers pierced in on the man, but as they came into contact with his skin, they melted back into normal water, leaving the man no more than soaked, not a single new scar to show for the exuberant amount of effort Vexx had expended in his murderous attempt.
The crew once more broke into laughter, this time more pompous than the others, moving on from the giggle of a hyena to the roar of a lion. Through the rain of falling water, the man on the throne’s eyes glowed brightly, refracting in the droplets to fill the room with gold and silver light. What was more eerie than that however was the man’s smile, cruel and evil, showing no remorse and instead displaying humor at the prisoners’ hopelessness.
“A valiant effort, shah!” he yelled. “Even still, I don’t think you should try that again. It won’t go well for you, though I hope you’re smart enough to know that now.”
“Who… what are you?” Vexx growled out, arms curled up into his chest, soar from the effort of summoning such a torrent.
“I am the new god of the sea, Captain Vexx. I am Admiral Gwynn, and I offer you three a single choice right here and now. You could go back to your poor, miserable existences as my prisoners, or you could join my crew under my watchful eye and guidance.”
Nearly immediately, the two men beside Vexx began to nod vigorously, crying out tearless sobs.
“Yes, please!” one cried.
“Give us water, food, anything, and we’ll join your crew, please!” cried the other.
Gwynn nodded and flicked his hand. Two of his crew members guided the prisoners off, leaving Vexx behind with the rest of Gwynn’s armada.
“So, Sunspot, what’ll it be?”
END OF BOOK 1