by Simon Archer
“What, then?” Mary asked.
I twitched my left ear as Bardak shuffled something on the desk behind me. His chair creaked as he leaned forward.
“To say true,” I replied, “I want to.”
“Ye know that none of us would consider less o’ ye if ye walked away from this, aye?” he asserted.
“Ye say that,” I murmured, looking down for a moment before I twisted my head to look back over my shoulder at the big orc. “I just think that I’d consider less o’ me.”
He pressed his lips together, then unconsciously licked along the base of his tusks. At that moment, I knew he understood. Bardak nodded and looked over at Mary. The witch shrugged and made a sour face.
“I don’t like it,” she said.
“But I need to do it,” I explained.
“We get that, lass,” the Captain said. “Ye might need the answers. Hell, we might all need them, but that don’t make us any less concerned for yer safety. As ye said, ‘tis yer soul on the line.”
“Fft,” I said and grinned. “I’ll wager the old git won’t hurt me. I do be somethin’ like his fifteen times removed great-grandaughter or somethin’.”
“I’m not so certain,” Mary snorted and shook her head, “but I think we’re plenty willing to hedge your bets.”
“I ain’t above that,” I told her.
Adra sat silently on the bed, her head tilted as she listened to the exchange. “I can keep her spirit safe.”
My head snapped around to look at the shamaness along with Mary and Bardak. “Do tell,” I said.
“This be somethin’ I should learn, too, aye?” Bardak asked as he drummed his thick fingertips on the cluttered desktop.
“It is easy,” Adra said with a nod of her head. “I will spiritwalk with her to see her ancestor.”
“I should go with ye, then,” he said.
The shamaness shook her head. “No, Splitter of Skulls. You and Mary Night must guard our bodies and keep safe the ship. The ice and the darkness are close now.”
“I know.” Bardak nodded. “Do ye think this will take long?”
Adra looked over at me. “That depends on the Black Cat and the Dweller in the Skull.”
I held back a snipe. The shamaness gave strange, descriptive names to most things. There was no reason at all to be spiteful about it, especially since Adra offered to help me, and I was convinced she could easily do as she said.
Mary and the Captain exchanged meaningful looks, then he stood. “Do ye go to it, or should I bring it here?”
“Here, I think,” Adra spoke before I could answer. “The Black Mirror might interfere, and I do not wish to face it as well as the Dweller.”
“I’ll get the damned thing myself, then,” he said. “Mary, would ye add what protections ye can?”
“Of course, my Captain,” the witch purred and turned to us as Bardak strode out.
There was no turning back now. I pushed off the desk and looked about. “Where do ye want me, Adra?”
The she-orc patted the bed beside her. “Come and sit. I will guide you through the spiritwalk when the Splitter of Skulls returns.”
“Right,” I muttered and padded over to settle down on the pile of furs and pillows that we all shared with the Captain. A nervous purr vibrated in my chest.
“What can I do?” Mary paced the room, while her eyes roamed the grisly trophies and knick-nacks that Bardak had claimed during his career.
“The hex bags that you made for us should suffice,” Adra replied in an odd, sing-song voice. Beside me, she had begun to sway slowly. “Otherwise, Mary Night, whatever you think would be best.”
Mary nodded and walked over to one of the elven skulls that sat on a shelf opposite the bed. She reached up, put a hand upon it, and her evil eye glowed softly while she whispered a quiet hex into the hole where the elf’s ear had been. A soft aura surrounded the thing for a moment, and as her eye lost its gleam, a tiny fire sprang up in the matching socket on the skull.
“I will watch,” she said.
“Good,” I stated firmly.
We drifted into silence, save for Adra, who swayed as she sang a soft song in a language I didn’t know. When Bardak returned bearing the scrimshawed skull, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The thing’s ‘eyes’ focused on me, and I felt a pressure in my skull and chest for a moment. Then the shamaness reached out, and the Captain placed the Skull of Kurle in her hands.
“Thank you, Splitter of Skulls,” Adra said softly. “Go and see to your ship. Like as not, we will hit the ice before this is done.”
He blinked, and then his eyes lost focus for a moment. “Damn,” he swore afterward. “I didn’t realize we were so close. Good fortune to ye both.”
They both hurried out, then, leaving me in Adra’s hopefully capable clutches. I opened my mouth to ask a question, but the shamaness shook her head and continued her soft chant.
I felt a lethargy sweep over me, a supernatural drowsiness that dragged my eyelids down with a leaden grip that I couldn’t resist. When I finally gave in, the last thing I felt was my body collapsing back on the bed beside Adra’s.
There was darkness, then sudden disorientation. Startled, I opened my eyes and found myself standing, naked as the day I was born, beside a similarly unclad Adra. She still had the necklace with her tusks around her neck, and there was a faint, shimmering rainbow aura around her.
Overhead, the ceiling was the color of aged bone, an arched in a dome from edge to edge. Intricate carvings that I couldn’t quite make out decorated every inch of the place.
“Hello,” a strange, purring voice exclaimed, “and welcome!”
A tall, tawny furred Ailur man stood suddenly before us. He had an almost leonine look around him, with a dark mane of thick hair through which his pointed ears poked. Large, slitted green eyes swept over us, and a smile danced over his lips. Otherwise, he was clad in a simple kilt of white cloth belted with linked plates of gold. Around his neck was a collar of gold, lapis, and ruby that fairly shone with power. Adra took a deliberate step back and left me facing him.
“Kurle, I reckon?” I said, lifting my chin in a little act of defiance.
“At your service, grand-daughter,” he said brightly, then bowed deeply. “And a spiritcaller! Do you fear me so much?” Those green eyes grew liquid and sad as he looked upon me again.
I shook my head. “Strange circumstance,” I replied. “When we found ye, the call fair took me out o’ my head. My family wanted to make sure I’d be safe when I came to speak with ye.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I dreamed of a whisper in the darkness and a lovely voice that called to me. I reached out for it, then it fled. If I caused you and yours any distress, then I sincerely apologize. It had been so very long…”
“I will leave,” Adra said, “if you will promise safe passage to your descendant.”
“Of course! Of course!” he exclaimed. “I really can’t keep her here, and I’m bound to serve my bloodline otherwise. If she wishes to leave me, then all she needs to do is say so!”
“Your word, then,” the shamaness said firmly.
“Consider it given,” Kurle said with a smile. “I am so glad to be able to talk to someone again.”
Adra turned to me and rested her hands on my shoulders. “If you need me, Black Cat, I will be here.” Our eyes met, and I impulsively leaned in to kiss her. She met it and returned it happily, then when we parted, her body just faded away into mist and was gone.
“So,” I said then as I turned to Kurle, “why am I bloody naked?”
“Ah.” He finally seemed suddenly to notice and waved a hand dismissively. “That is because we are in the realm of spirit, grand-daughter. Only things with spiritual weight are capable of making the transition.”
“So, ye enchanted yer clothes, then?” I asked.
He laughed and shook his head, then pointed up to some of the faintly visible inscriptions. “Oh, no. That bit of spellwork there describes what I was
wearing when I lay at rest, and that there how I looked when I was young. It’s a shameless bit of vanity, I admit, but I hope it’s not disappointing.”
I looked him over and squirmed a little, trying to keep from being too self-conscious. My fur did help, though it didn’t quite manage to cover everything.
“Not at all,” I admitted. Kurle was an attractive specimen of my folk, and my mind did wander a bit before I mentally kicked myself. He was my ancestor, after all, and besides, I was most definitely taken.
Kurle swept a hand over the empty room, and a comfortable set of chairs and couches sprang into being. “Would you share your name?”
“Tabitha,” I said with a nod. “Tabitha Binx.”
He nodded and smiled wistfully. “I wish I could have known my descendants better, but I rather lost track when the Erdrathians stole my skull.” Then, with a smile, he gestured to the seating. “Care to join me?”
I nodded and drifted over to sit as primly as I could. There would definitely be a conversation with Adra about clothes in the spirit world or wherever this was. At least Kurle didn’t seem to either notice or care.
He joined me, sitting on the couch opposite. “So, Tabitha Binx,” the spirit of my ancestor said warmly, “how may I help you?”
“Well, if ye’ve the time, then I can explain,” I said slowly.
“Dear child,” Kurle laughed. “I’ve nothing but time.”
I nodded, took a deep breath, and settled in to tell the tawny Ailur everything that I knew about Bardak’s crusade against the Admiralty, about Justin Layne, and about Lack and The Pale Horse.
When I finally lapsed into silence, he only looked at me with an unreadable expression in his brilliant eyes. For a moment, I worried that I’d said the wrong thing, or too much, but then he nodded, smiled, and said, “I can help. At the very least, I can tell you something about what I think you are facing.”
“Methinks we’ll take what we can get,” I said.
“Of course,” he said. “First things first, though, I am bound to serve anyone of my bloodline, and anyone who can compel me through my skull. I want to assure you that there is no hidden price or danger to asking me for information. Unfortunately, there is little more that I can do aside from serving as an encyclopedia of esoterica.”
“That’d be fine, grandfather,” I said, not really knowing what else to tell him.
He nodded and shifted on his couch. “Very well, then. We will begin with the sorcerer. He sounds much like a being I faced more than once during my years, but I could scarce imagine him surviving this long, so perhaps a disciple?” Kurle rubbed his chin and frowned, then answered his own question. “Maybe, or maybe not.”
“How could we kill the bastard?” I wanted to know.
“The eternal question,” he observed. “Without seeing him in action, I can only speculate. However, overwhelming force, both physical and spiritual, are generally proof against even the most powerful mage. I suspect you know that, though.”
“Aye,” I grumbled with a frown. “‘Tis not something new. Though if ye say he can be killed, that does give me heart.”
“All things die,” he said philosophically. “Some are just harder to kill than others. Now, the Admiral and his ship are a fascinating case. You said that the entirety of The Pale Horse bore runes of enchantment?”
“That be what Bardak told me,” I replied.
“And he needs a special soul and the Black Mirror to complete his plan?”
“Aye.” I flicked an ear and studied him.
“The Black Mirror is an artifact that I heard tales of, even in my time. It is incredibly old with immeasurable power. To me, it sounds as if the Admiral wants to use the mirror and the sacrifice to bring life to his ship.” Kurse pursed his lips thoughtfully and stared off into space.
“Is that even possible?” I demanded.
“Oh, yes. There are many ways to imbue life into the inanimate, but the use of a sacrificial soul and a demonic artifact is one of the easiest and most reliable,” he replied with a nod. “A sorcerer like this Lack would likely focus on that method to the exclusion of all others. However, we cannot be sure that your enemy doesn’t have a back-up plan.”
“If I had invested so much into the greatest warship the world has ever known, I’d certainly not have all my eggs in the one basket, so to speak,” Kurle continued. “I suggest being ready for anything.”
18
“So that be the tale,” Tabitha finished telling me of her adventurous spiritwalk under Adra’s watchful eyes.
Just a few months past, I’d have found the story unbelievable, but with what I’d seen and done of late, I just took the whole tale of an ancient spirit of knowledge in stride. The information Kurle had passed on through his descendant was helpful, too, if more than a bit concerning. We were likely going to face a living ship commanded by Admiral Layne, whether we kept him from retrieving Mary and the Mirror or not.
It would just be weaker.
That made our quest all the more desperate. We’d hit the ice while Tabitha was under. It still wasn’t fully solid yet, so The Hullbreaker hadn’t lost much speed. Her ramming prow held strong so far on the thinner ice, but it thickened by the hour. The air was frigid enough that even I had donned my warmer clothes.
Behind us, the King Narwhal swam along with Ligeia, naked as always and seemingly untouched by the cold as she perched on his broad back. I looked up at the gray sky above.
“Mixed blessings, I guess,” I said. “Will Kurse be talkin’ to the rest of us, now?”
“He seems willing,” Tabitha replied. “The witches want some time with him, too. I suspect he be lonely, an’ now that he’s roused, well, ‘tis hard to get him to shut up.”
I chuckled at that. “Ye can’t blame a bloke for wantin’ to chat up the ladies after a long period o’ celibacy, can ye?”
She smirked and shook her head. “Not at all, but ye do remember he’s my bloody ancestor, right? The thought strikes me as right disturbin’.”
“Aye, I see yer point, there, but methinks Mary can keep her head, even should Ember an’ Rhianne lose theirs, an’ with Adra watchin’ over the whole, I doubt there’ll be any trouble.” Besides, I thought, what could the old spirit do without a body?
Jimmy Mocker came sauntering up from the main deck. I watched him make his way nimbly through the bustling crew as they went about their duties. The man was a good first mate, despite his foppish, womanizing ways, and he’d make a good captain when I found him a ship. Would Jenny move from The Black Cat at that point, I wondered.
“Ye standin’ all the watches today, Cap’n?” he wanted to know.
“I want to be at the helm when we hit the thicker ice,” I replied. “Ain’t that I don’t trust anyone else to do it, but The Hullbreaker’s my baby. I want to know how she’ll handle icebreakin’ duties, especially with the Gale pushin’ her on.”
“Oh, I ain’t pinin’ for standin’ a watch,” Jimmy protested. “Ye ain’t gotta explain it to me.”
I snorted, and Tabitha let out a snort. “So where be ye keepin’ my first mate?” she demanded, a mischievous tone to her voice.
“I ain’t keepin’ her from her duties,” he protested, lifting his hands as if to ward off the black-furred feline woman. “I swear it upon my life.”
“Ye just be keepin’ her busy in the crow’s nest,” I muttered.
Both of them looked sharply at me, and I shrugged. “Ye expect me to protect the honor that ye don’t have, Jimmy?”
“I’ve a pirate’s honor, Cap’n,” he proclaimed as he put a hand over his heart.
Tabitha laughed and shook her head. “That’ll be enough o’ that, Jimmy Mocker. Jenny be her own person, ‘tis true, but I’ll still be needin’ her as first mate on The Black Cat once this all be done with.”
“I understand, Cap’n Binx,” Jimmy said seriously. “Life seems to have reminded us that it ain’t all about guns an’ booty.”
“As interestin’ as thi
s is,” I broke in, “we’ve about three days o’ breakin’ ice once we hit the deep fields, then we should be in sight o’ the island. Things’ll get more difficult by nightfall, I’m reckoning. Maybe sooner. I’ll be needin’ crew watchin’ for breaches in the hull, so go ahead an’ put together three rotatin’ watches for the lower decks.”
“What if we get locked in?” Tabitha asked.
“Then we walk it,” I replied. “I ain’t sailed this far to fail.”
She nodded slowly. Everyone knew how important it was for us to find the ironclad and get it moving again. That was my biggest worry, though, that Bord, for all his bluster, wouldn’t be able to get the old ship steaming. We’d be in a bad place if that were the case.
I looked off into the uncertain distance. The slush and broken chunks of the frozen sea thickened as we sailed on. At least the Gale had been cooperative in reducing the power of its winds at my command. I didn’t want the hull to rip apart from a full-speed collision with an unyielding bit of ice.
As the day wore on, we reached a point where the ram prow began to grate and grind as it broke the path ahead. Our progress slowed, but we kept going. Thicker ridges of ice came into view until we seemed to be making our way through a white land of hills and craggy outcrops while the grind and squeal of breaking ice rattled our nerves and more than often, The Hullbreaker would roll and yaw a bit as she hit a bit of the everpresent ice.
Ligeia and the King Narwhal took to diving down below the fields, then breaking through thin spots ahead to signal us. The monstrous whale was well suited to breaking through the ice from below, and my siren instinctively knew how to help.
And so, time passed. One day, two, then on the third day, from the crow’s nest came the call of, “Land ho!”
A dark shape rose on the horizon, fully iced in, but obviously a large island, crowned by snow-capped evergreens and dominated by a tall cliff that the rest of the island rose up from the frozen sea to meet. I thought back to Sturmgar’s description. The Sea Hammer would be in a sea cave accessible from the cliff. This had to be it.