The Viking Throne: The Cursed Seas Collection

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The Viking Throne: The Cursed Seas Collection Page 10

by J. B. Michaels


  “Bring that weighted wardrobe over here.” McBain pointed to Pierce.

  “I can’t believe you never told me you found something down here.” Pierce held a huge, bulbous helmet and a heavy, tan diving suit. He gestured for me to start putting it on.

  “I didn’t want Monty to know we’d found a damn thing, especially since the stone messed me up so bad. I didn’t want you to get hurt either.”

  “How kind of you. I will dive with you. Stay clear of the stone. Just let me know if you need me to pull you out. We will use the air hose as a rope to get you out of there if the suit doesn’t work. Then I can give it a go.”

  “That works for me.”

  “I am diving too,” Imogen insisted.

  “Let’s all go, then.” I couldn’t argue with her. I wasn’t in any position to.

  I stepped into the suit Pierce held up for me, secured the helmet over my head, and jumped into the water. Pierce and Imogen followed and helped guide me down to the fjord cave entrance. We turned on our torches and proceeded. Walking in the ridiculous dive suit was slow. I felt like a buffoon.

  “You are so slow. Can’t you go any faster, mate?” Pierce asked.

  “I doubt it. He is slow mentally as well,” Imogen said.

  “Aren’t you two fucking hilarious? Help me up this cave wall, damnit.”

  We reached the rope that led up to the cave that held the throne. The skeletal remains dotted the cave floor around us. The ancient battle site affected me the same way as before. A haunting feeling, an ominous notion that one doesn’t normally experience. I wanted to get the hell out.

  Pierce and Imogen scanned the rope and wall with their handheld torches.

  “How did you even notice this was here? This place is awful,” Imogen said.

  “I was curious, and I wanted to find some junk for Monty and not die. So, there were a few reasons for my sojourn into the creepy cave of death.”

  My companions pulled me up the cave wall by the attached air hose.

  “Thank you. It’s just down this cavern. Best to stay back. If I need you, I will jiggle the rope,” I said.

  “Nonsense, James. We can at least see it from afar. We aren’t letting you get too far away,” Imogen said.

  It felt good that she didn’t want me to suffer a heart attack in a creepy cave filled with dead people. Maybe she still loved me after all.

  We made our way down the small cave. I had to pay close attention to the stalactites and stalagmites. Walking through was much trickier than swimming over and around them. It wasn’t long before we saw the funerary Viking boat, replete with ornate carvings and the head of a dragon. In the boat, the Viking throne sat with the green stone shining in the headrest.

  “I will head over there now. Let’s hope this damn old dive suit protects me. I mean, worth a shot, right?” I stomped over to the boat but couldn’t pull myself up over the side of it. The dive suit was too damn heavy. I fumbled around like an idiot for what seemed like an eternity when I heard the giggles of Imogen and Pierce.

  “We will give you a boost up and over,” Pierce said.

  They grabbed my legs, my torso resting over the side of the boat, and I was able to take it from there.

  They shined their torches on the throne. The emerald glistened. I stomped towards it, hoping the wood of the old boat wouldn’t crack. It creaked below my heavy dive boots. I stopped a meter away and extended my arm to reach for the stone. No problems yet.

  “For Maggie,” I said.

  I took another step when the throne cracked in two, right down the bloody middle. The stone floated free. Pierce and Imogen’s torchlight beams crisscrossed to find it. I could still see it, spinning towards me. My heart beat violently. The pain in my chest overwhelmed me.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Imogen floated in the water above. Pierce tossed the broken dive helmet and torn dive suit away. Their torches illuminated the stalactites.

  I looked around me. I was still in the funerary boat. Fitting since I’d almost died.

  “Where’s the stone?” I asked.

  “I have it.” Imogen held it in her hand.

  “Your heart is beating out of your chest?” Pierce asked.

  “No,” Imogen said.

  “I tried to touch the stone, and my heart nearly beat out my chest. Don’t feel bad.” Pierce helped me to my feet.

  “Let’s get out of here. Glad I am outta that damn dive suit. Thought for sure that would work.”

  “I didn’t.” Imogen swam ahead, stone in hand.

  “Did you think it would work?” I looked at Pierce.

  He shook his head.

  “Apparently, I am an idiot then,” I said.

  We made our way out of the fjord’s cave system. Soon, the light from the surface lit our path. We had the stone.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Doyle threw the rope ladder over the side of The Relentless. We climbed aboard. McBain greeted us. “The stone?”

  “I will take care of it.” Imogen showed McBain the square-cut emerald, which was the size of her fist.

  “Can I touch it at least?” McBain asked.

  “I wouldn’t, Captain. Pierce and I tried and almost died. Imogen seems to be the only one who can handle it,” I said.

  “You shouldn’t keep it in your hand all the time. Not with the crew around you. They are good men, but greed strikes the heart of every man at any time. Consider putting it in a box. Doyle, in my quarters, Mary’s jewelry box.” McBain stared at the stone.

  “Do you have any idea why Imogen is able to touch the stone, but we aren’t, Captain?” I asked.

  “This stone is special Irish. Best to keep it safe in my quarters.”

  “No, this stone will not be allowed out of my sight,” Imogen said.

  “Imogen…”

  “James. No. I am keeping it.”

  “It’s all right. Let her keep it.” McBain grabbed the box from Doyle and handed it to Imogen.

  “Where do we go now? How do we contact Montgomery to set up the exchange?” I asked.

  “Doyle, I will let you tell them. We’ll have to switch vessels in Galway first,” McBain said.

  Imogen put the stone in the box and held it with both hands. I touched the box to check if my heart rate would spike. It didn’t. The box seemed to shield the stone’s effect.

  “Montgomery runs siren children in and out of the catacombs in Submerged Paris,” Doyle said.

  “How did you come by this information?” I asked.

  “I work for him.” Doyle pulled out a handgun from his back belt and pointed it at McBain.

  The clicking sounds of hammers and slides surrounded us. The crew aimed various rifles, swords, and handguns at Pierce, Imogen, McBain, and me. I couldn’t even derive any emotion in that moment, the shock proved too powerful.

  “Mrs. Henihan, the stone. Keep it in the box.” Doyle put his other hand out, and kept the gun aimed at McBain.

  “Don’t do it, Imogen. Save your girl.” McBain kicked the box from Imogen’s grip and into the air. The stone flew out and fell at McBain’s feet.

  Doyle’s shot was the most awful sound I’d ever heard. McBain’s blood sprayed onto my chest. He fell to the deck on his hands and knees.

  Imogen quickly picked up the stone.

  “You son of a bitch!” Imogen held the stone in her hand, tears rolling down her cheeks. In her grief, something had changed. She patted McBain’s back then stood up. Her eyes glowed green. She held the stone high.

  “James. Pierce. Hit the deck.”

  We followed directions well.

  Doyle yelled, “Fire!”

  From the stone, a concussive blast sent Doyle flying onto the helm. His back cracked over the ship’s wheel. He died on impact. The rest of the crew that surrounded us flew back. Some men tumbled over the side and into the sea. Others smacked against the rigging and suffered extreme rope burn or their necks snapped. A few of the crew hit the mast, their heads cracked wide open. Bloo
d spattered the deck.

  An eerie quiet followed the violent outburst.

  McBain grunted then fell on his back from his hands and knees. I crawled over to him. The bullet had hit him in the belly, and he’d lost a lot of blood already. My elbows slipped on the mess. I recovered then grabbed his hand.

  Imogen knelt next to him. Her eyes were back to normal.

  McBain reached out for Imogen’s hand. He tried to look at both of us but gazed only at the sky. “You are a truly special family. Find your little girl. Be…be…happy.”

  “McBain… McBain! Thank you, my dear friend. Thank you.” I shook with grief and held him tight. I wept. Without this man, I would have never found Imogen or ever had a chance to find Maggie.

  Imogen hugged my back as I shook from the torrent of sadness and grief.

  His heart stopped. McBain had died. The boisterous, handsome, mountain of a man and my dear friend, had died.

  Chapter Thirty

  “I am truly sorry for McBain. He was a good man. Most of these men seem too immobile or, for lack of better terminology, dead.” Pierce stood up from the deck and lowered his head. He then quickly inspected the damage from Imogen’s surprising strike.

  “The stone… I-I just knew what to do. It just happened.” Imogen stared at the stone in her hand.

  “Safe to say, Imogen, that you have the power of a mage. Something like that can’t be explained with conventional terms,” Pierce said.

  I stood up from McBain’s body and rubbed my eyes. “I would have to agree with Pierce, my dear. You have the power of magic and whatever that entails.”

  Imogen shook her head. “I know ever since I touched the stone I have felt very different.”

  A few men emerged from below decks.

  Imogen pointed the stone towards them.

  “We stayed below because we didn’t want mutiny! Please have mercy!” a bald pirate with three teeth bellowed.

  There were ten of them total.

  “If you don’t want to suffer her wrath, clear the deck now,” Pierce ordered.

  The ragtag group of men supposedly loyal to McBain started to dump the bodies over the side.

  “The mages helped save humanity from the sea and granted many who chose to live underwater a conversion from human to siren. You appear to be a descendant of the mages,” Pierce said.

  “Gentlemen, I don’t need any further explanation. I don’t think you understand. I know already.”

  “Well, you think you know someone. How does the magic work?” I asked.

  “I just think of something, then direct my energy through the stone and things happen.” Imogen helped clear the deck by sending bodies of dead crewmembers into the sea.

  “Sea witch!” a member of the crew yelled.

  Imogen turned the stone towards him. He floated in the air.

  “What did you say?” she asked.

  “I am sorry. Please. Please, let me down.”

  Imogen lowered the stone, and he fell to the deck hard. “Ow!”

  “Imogen, can you sail the ship to Paris?”

  The ship’s anchor wheel began to move because she was reeling it in with the power of the stone. The sails unfurled. The Relentless sailed once more.

  “Well, all right, then.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  We set a course over the Highlands of Submerged Scotland on our way to Paris. It was out of the way, but McBain deserved it. With Imogen’s power, we could make up for lost time easily. Her newfound power helped propel the ship forward and faster through the water.

  Upon our arrival, we wrapped McBain in the fine linen of his bed. We thought it a proper spot to send him off to his home. We stood on the helm together.

  “I am not a siren of eloquence and lack the candor for such an occasion. I will simply say thank you again to this man, our Captain McBain.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “I think the best way to honor him is to follow his last orders to us. Find our little girl. Be happy. Thank you, Captain. We will.” Imogen gripped and stroked my hand.

  Once more, tears rolled down my face. Pierce was stoic. Imogen lay her head on my shoulder and sniffled.

  “Godspeed, Captain McBain,” I said. I nodded at the crew, and they lowered him over the aft deck into the sea.

  We stood on the deck for a few moments of dedicated silence.

  “Shall we carry out the captain’s orders now?” Pierce asked.

  Imogen and I both nodded. Time to find Maggie.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I waved to Pierce from the foredeck. He dove down into the depths of the sea near what was formally known as the English Channel. We had formulated a plan that required Pierce’s absence. We would do our best to keep our end of the plan intact. I hoped that Pierce would come through. We still hadn’t any factual evidence that Maggie still lived, but Imogen and I had to know for sure. Unfortunately, Montgomery was our only chance at finding her.

  Doyle had mentioned small sirens scouring the catacombs for treasure, which was dangerous work. Any good siren knew the seas of Submerged Paris were cursed, run afoul with the dead and aggressive beasts not unlike Monstro, but the most fearsome and despicable monster was not a creature of the deep. It was Montgomery. It didn’t surprise me that he would be there, the architect of a dastardly scheme to feed his greed. My blood boiled at the thought of him.

  “James.”

  I stopped frowning and looked over at my magnificent wife, the mage with powers yet to be known and unleashed.

  “Yes, my love.” I smiled, knowing that the time drew near. A few more minutes and we would separate once more.

  “I love you more than my heart can take sometimes, James.”

  “I know it.” I smirked.

  Imogen laughed then held up the stone as an idle threat.

  We both shared a good laugh.

  I grabbed her hand. “We are so close. So very close. We will find Maggie and be happy like McBain said. I promise.”

  She squeezed my hand then embraced me. The dawn’s light cast a beautiful pink glow on the water while we held each other tight. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I wanted the moment to last forever, thus the sweetness in its brevity. I pulled away and kissed her.

  We reluctantly let go of each other. It was time for Imogen to dive and enact her part of the plan.

  “I love you, Imogen.”

  “I know it, James. See you in Paris.”

  She dove off the aft deck, stone in hand.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  A few hours passed. One of McBain’s loyal men steered the ship over Submerged Paris.

  “Monty’s ship off the foredeck!” another pirate yelled from the crow’s nest.

  “Remember, I shall request a parlay if that savage bastard will even accept a gentleman’s tradition. Get us close enough and fly the white flag,” I said, with gusto.

  This was what McBain must have felt like all the time. It was empowering. I breathed deep to quell my emotion. I didn’t know the man for very long, but he meant the world to me.

  The white flag raised on our mast. The aircraft carrier sat high in the water, the deck almost as tall as our mast.

  I climbed the rigging to the crow’s nest. As we approached the carrier, a group of Monty’s red-shirted sailors manned and mounted a deck gun. I supposed the last time Monty saw The Relentless, McBain had taken his ship. The white flag waved in clear view of the New East India Company sailors.

  I yelled to the deck, “Parlay! Parlay! I wish to speak with the commanding officer. We mean no harm! You can clearly see there are only eleven of us!”

  I shouldn’t have thought Montgomery would assume the tradition of seafaring peoples and accept white flags of surrender and honor parlay.

  The first shot from the large, single-shot deck gun missed us. The round cut through the air in a haunting whistle.

  “Abandon ship! Abandon ship, mates!” I yelled.

  The sailors on the carried deck loaded an
other shell into the deck gun.

  McBain’s crew on the starboard bow lowered the dinghy into the water. I hoped they would hurry. I didn’t need the lifeboat since I could just dive in and swim to the carrier, but I still needed an audience with Montgomery for the plan to work.

  “Faster, mates! Faster!” I yelled.

  The deep bass sound from the deck was again followed by the whistle of the shell hurling through the air. This time, the sound was louder and too damn close. I jumped off the crow’s nest onto the fore rig. The cracking wood was followed by my short plummet to the deck. Monty’s crew managed to crack the mast with their previous shot.

  The fall wasn’t dramatic enough to cause serious injury, but I scraped my elbows and bruised my ass. I stood up and brushed it off. I had my dagger, McBain’s nickel-plated handgun, and I grabbed a rifle from the deck and strapped it on my back.

  A third round hit the helm and shattered the wheel. McBain’s ship had taken some horrible hits, but she still could float, relentless as ever.

  “You motherfucker.” I dove into the water and headed straight for the hawsepipe of the carrier.

  I led a unit in the Siren Guard for a reason, and Monty was about to find out why.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The water was surprisingly warm. I felt a great deal of emotion upon jumping into the water with the loss of McBain and the prospect of finding Maggie. I swam next to the massive aircraft carrier with its narrow front and widening body, the emotions were swept away by a steely, cold resolve. I found the anchor chain and started my ascent.

  Clearly, the parlay part of the plan was summarily dismissed. I would have to fight my way to request an audience with Montgomery. I didn’t mind. The more redshirts I dispatched with, the better.

  The carrier’s anchor chain was much bigger than the cruise ship, and I daresay easier to traverse as well. The interior of the pipe had fallen victim to severe oxidization. It looked as if I could kick through the pipe to see the interior of the ship. In fact, I did just that. I held onto the chain and kicked the piping. I broke through, and not to my surprise, I saw many more siren prisons. They were empty at the moment. Out on a dive. There had to have been a couple hundred of those damn cubes he stuck us in.

 

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