Embrace of the Medusi (The Overlords Trilogy Book 2)

by Toby Andersen

  ‘Seventeen days now. You were in real bad shape, lad. Sedated you deliberately for half that with milk of the poppy.’ Seventeen days! He thought. He’d missed the whole voyage lying in a bed. No wonder he was sore. But at the same time he could see he was a fair way towards healing, so maybe it was worth it. They must have made incredible time down the mountain. Was Abrax still on their trail?

  ‘How?’ he said.

  ‘How what?’

  ‘How did she tell you?’

  ‘Oh, she has these wonderful, thick leaves for writing on, though they are getting tatty. I can't read, but some of the mates can.’

  ‘And what is out there?’ Totelun pointed at the spot on the map in the middle of the ocean, now that Cane had leaned back.

  ‘Maybe you should ask your princess that one,’ Cane said with a smile. ‘All I know is, if we keep going, we are going to sail right off the edge of the world.’

  ‘There’s an edge!’ asked Totelun with surprise. From the Floating Islands the surface world had always had a distinct curve on the horizon, like a great ball slowly revolving below. Of course, it was the Islands that moved, migrating round.

  ‘It’s a figure of speech, lad,’ said Cane. ‘But I think you need to come and see for yourself.’ He offered Totelun a huge hand, which Totelun took. ‘Now, up we come.’

  *

  When Totelun emerged from the dark underbelly of the ship onto the main deck, the resplendent clear day and beating sun were enough to make him cringe back, unable to open his eyes. This must be how Cassandra feels without my goggles, he thought. As he braved the bright pain, he could see there was barely a cloud in the Cloudsea far above. The Floating Islands were suddenly nowhere to be seen; they had been such an constant companion for those weeks travelling from the city to Cartracia, he found he sorely missed them. Was his dream of getting home truly dead? He felt lost all over again.

  On deck, the sailors of Shandan’s crew toiled in the baking sun; one was tarring the ropes that held the rigging tight, another mopping the boards down. He saw the helmsman in his protected glass-fronted cabin, huge helm wheel in hand, steering them true. Above, brand new sails whipped in the wind; he remembered the previous ones had been torn to shreds and the mast broken in the battle with Abrax. They must have had repairs done in Kerinoa. Cane had money to spare now.

  He could smell the salty air and feel the spray on his face and in his hair. He smiled. Just like home, he thought.

  After a circuit of the deck, he found Cassandra at the very prow of the ship, leaning right up in front over the bowsprit. Below her, he knew lay the ornately carved figurehead of the Neri’id itself; a sea nymph spirit Cane had once explained protected the ship.

  All Totelun could think was with Cassandra standing there, there was no need for the nymph. She looked incredible, truly at home on the waves; the wind whipped through her red hair, unbound and streaming out behind her like fire. She wore his jacket he noticed, and a hood to tuck away her little Cephea. She also had his belt and the crystal at her hip. She couldn’t hear the waves or his approach, but she revelled in it anyway.

  She must have sensed him somehow, because she turned and beamed at him and Totelun’s world broke. He was so glad to see that smile, see her alive and well. She was so beautiful.

  Cassandra embraced him and Totelun could hardly breathe. Not because she hurt him, but because she made him forget to keep taking air in. He grinned back at her and made her giggle silently. She glanced away embarrassed. But when she looked back and met his eyes, they just gazed at each other for a while. Her eyes behind his goggles, were so intent on him, like nothing else mattered.

  I should kiss her, he thought. This would be the perfect moment.

  Instead, the lull of the ship knocked him off balance, breaking their embrace and she glanced away. The moment was gone. As quickly as it had felt right, it felt too late. Totelun sighed deeply, but she wouldn’t hear him. He caught her eye with a gesture instead, like he was writing on his hand and Cassandra dug a crumpled leaf from her pocket.

  He’d asked for it, but once he had the leaf, Totelun didn’t know what to write. Did he reference the missed moment, or just ignore it? Neither seemed right. If it didn’t happen it didn’t happen. In the end, he just wrote what first came to mind. [I’m sorry.]

  Cassandra frowned. [What for?]

  What am I sorry for? [The mountain,] he wrote. [Everything I put you through. I don’t care about the Islands, not enough to put you in danger. I’m just so glad you’re safe.]

  [I know you are,] she wrote.

  [You saved my life. There’s no other way to look at it.]

  [That’s why I couldn’t see past the mountain. The choice I made.]

  The leaf was falling apart, the velvet no longer brushed away easily. Totelun made a mental note to ask the Captain for real paper.

  [Either way, I owe you my life,] he wrote.

  Cassandra smiled, but her note changed the subject. [You are so oblivious sometimes. Take a look ahead.] As he looked up from the note, she moved aside a little, holding out her hand to the horizon behind her.

  And for a moment Totelun couldn’t grasp what he was looking at. The ocean that stretched out before them didn’t seem to stretch out very far. He’d seen the sea before now, he was becoming a regular sailor; on previous voyages, the sea just went on for miles in every direction. For weeks at a time the horizon was an unbroken line in a perfect circle.

  But now, the horizon didn’t look quite right.

  It dipped away far too close, like a gouge carved out of the ocean. And beyond that there was, well, nothing. No, maybe not nothing? The Neri’id was still moving at a fair clip and the mysterious hole in the horizon crept closer as he watched. It coalesced until he could finally make sense of it.

  He’d been so focussed on Cassandra, he hadn’t even noticed.

  It was an edge. He thought Cane had been joking – he said he had –but there it was. The edge of the ocean, the edge of the world. The ocean fell away in front of them. It reminded him of some of the Floating Islands; lakes and rivers that flowed over the edge of their Islands to create great waterfalls that eventually disappeared into water vapour and cloud. He used to think the water would eventually run out on the Island, because it flowed off the edge into the abyss below, and there was no way to renew it. But this never proved to be the case.

  A waterfall at the edge of the world. He was remembering something else, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

  Instead he wrote, [So this is what came after the mountain. Not Floating Islands, not seeing my family, but sailing to the edge of the world.]

  [Isn’t it amazing?] she wrote back.

  They were joined by Shandan Cane, stepping up none too quietly, boards creaking under his weight.

  ‘The edge of the world?’ said Totelun.

  Cane grinned. ‘Not according to the navigator.’ He pointed up to the new replacement mast; high above, a salt-hardened thrall kept watch day and night. His freely chosen Medusi gifted him skills in exchange for life; he could see at night as if it were day, and for miles further than any normal human. ‘He says there’s another side to it. It’s more of an enormous hole in the ocean, not circular, but like an almighty rift, or crack in the sea bed, and the water just pours in.’

  [So, where are we?] Totelun wrote. Cane had said Cassandra pointed this place out on a map.

  Cassandra wrote, and while she did, Totelun asked if Cane had any stores of paper they might use. ‘These leaves are getting ragged.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do, lad. Wouldn’t want you to not be able to speak to your lady friend, now would we?’

  Cassandra handed Totelun the leaf, as Cane stepped back to order his crew about. [The shaman at the top of Cartracia had maps of most of Arceth. Do you remember he tried to bargain with you when we missed the Islands?] Totelun remembered Ribuqa and realised they had left the man to die up there, tied up and at the mercy of Abrax.

  [For Thunwi
ngs?] He used the symbols for thunder and wings and hoped she’d understand.

  [Yes. Well I didn’t want us to be beholden to him even if we did have to travel with him, so I took a look at the maps while you talked. There was a great circle on one of them, far out to sea, with the title, Mating Grounds of the Thunwings, written in Gathralt.]

  Totelun just shook his head. Cassandra was a wonder to him; not only did she save his life, she had the presence of mind to scout their next location, and bundle him into that strange pod, without losing his crystal. While he’d slept, she’d convinced a merchant crew to go where there was no hope of trade or riches, a waterfall into an abyss in the middle of the ocean. [You’re amazing,] he wrote. [I will never think of you as a liability.]

  ‘So, you know why we’re here?’ said Cane behind him.

  ‘Thunwings,’ he said. ‘This is a breeding ground.’

  ‘Thunwings?’ said the Captain, gruffly. ‘Never heard of them.’

  Totelun shrugged. ‘Weird fleshy flying slug things.’

  Cane turned his nose up. ‘Sounds strange.’

  ‘They are majestic flyers.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘You have to see them,’ Totelun finished.

  Cassandra looked suddenly sad, and Totelun mouthed a query. [I haven’t seen any though,] she wrote. [Thunwings. We are taking a lot on faith.]

  As they got closer, he could hear the waterfalls; not raging as the water hit rocks below, but just the sound of the water itself flowing, falling and then nothing. Cassandra was right, there was no sign of the creatures.

  A few minutes later, the ship’s crew started to move with purpose. The sails were furled, sliding up into their rope slings, slowing the Neri’id dramatically. Cane ordered men to oars below decks, and Totelun and Cassandra watched as the men braked the vessel by plunging their oars into the still ocean.

  The ship slowly crept forward until it brushed gently against a submerged landing jetty, just under the surface. The water flowed over it at just a foot or so of depth.

  Beyond the rift, Totelun could just about see the waterfalls that surrounded it on all sides; the crack in the ocean must have been a mile or more across, maybe two.

  [Now we just need to see what’s down there,] he wrote.

  Cassandra nodded, but whatever she started writing, she didn’t share yet.

  ‘There’s someone here,’ said Cane. ‘Someone built that jetty.’

  Totelun didn’t bother pointing out the flaw; the jetty could have been put there decades ago, even centuries. It didn’t even look built, more like grown. They knew nothing.

  He was glad he hadn’t; as the sailors threw ropes down to secure the ship to the platform, there was a great rush as something shot from the gaping rift. Sailors shouted and cursed, one fell back on his ass. More creatures shot up into the sky from the rift in the sea.

  ‘Thunwings!’ Totelun shouted.

  Cassandra was grinning from ear to ear. They watched as a flock of the strange winged snake-like creatures took to the sky, soaring round in a great arc. Totelun shielded his eyes as he followed them through the blue and across the sun. Each Thunwing had a rider on it – a saddle and a pilot!

  [This is my way home,] he wrote and handed to Cassandra.

  She smiled, but it was false. He frowned a question.

  Cassandra passed him the note that she had been writing but had kept from him before. [I didn't want to tell you before, but I sense huge danger here. I have seen too much happen beneath a curtain of rushing water. We shouldn’t go down there. Don’t you remember, I said I saw you plummet to your death.] Totelun stopped reading before the end and looked into the trench with foreboding.

  He remembered his flippant answer to her concerns a few weeks before.

  We just have to avoid all endless waterfalls, he’d said.

  Chapter Thirty One

  Aurelia

  They had locked her in her rooms, and Aurelia had wished them well with it. How different could it be to what she already suffered, first as a political prisoner, and then as the victim of Nepheli’s cruel campaign of recriminations? But she had been wrong.

  For the last two days, her balcony had been pelted with rotten food, much of it coming through the open arch into her bedroom. Aurelia and Chrysaora had been forced to move a wardrobe to cover the opening; as it was, they still couldn’t get away from the stench. For all the rotten muck, no fresh supplies had been served. When they were both starving late on the evening of the second day, Chrysaora braved the balcony after dark and climbed down into the city. With her Medusi wrapped and hidden in her hood, she bought skins of water and some meagre fruits and bread by selling some of the ornaments in Aurelia’s suite.

  Aurelia wasn’t sure how much longer she could wait here, before she would need to follow Chrysaora and escape into the city herself. Hadn’t they suggested doing just this when they’d first arrived? She’d have to break out her Liath persona again.

  When Chrysaora returned after dark and they had sated their hunger and thirst together, Aurelia happened to glance up and see the look on her bodyguard’s face. Before she could speak, Chrysaora beat her to it.

  ‘What are you going to do about Faibryn?’ Her voice was hard and tired. She’d had enough. Despite their proximity, they had been skirting round talking about much at all.

  ‘Faibryn?’ said Aurelia, biting into apple. ‘This was Terietta’s doing. Once Faibryn has recovered enough from his father’s passing he wil-’

  ‘I am forever teaching you about naivety,’ Chrysaora cut in. Aurelia was stunned. She supposed she shouldn’t be; Chrysaora had no respect for authority, and though she treated Aurelia with maybe a modicum of deference, she was never afraid to speak her mind. ‘You may only be sixteen, but you are also an Empress. You need to start acting like one again.’

  ‘What do you-’

  ‘He’s not coming, Aurelia,’ she snapped, her voice raised. ‘Don’t you get it? You being here is what he wants.’

  Aurelia shook her head, incredulous. ‘What?’

  ‘We still haven’t talked about when I followed him. He leads an incredibly secretive life outside these walls.’

  ‘You were supposed to follow Nepheli,’ said Aurelia sternly. She didn’t appreciate Chrysaora’s tone.

  ‘Nepheli isn’t your problem right now. She isn’t the one whose indifference is keeping you locked up. She’s doing nothing while Faibryn is happy to let you rot. If he wasn’t he would be here already.’

  He would be here already? she thought to herself. ‘He’s probably having his coronation.’ It sounded pathetic as it left her mouth.

  ‘And you think he’d neglect to have his future duchess there?’

  ‘Fine, what did you see?’ she asked.

  ‘I saw enough,’ said Chrysaora. ‘I followed him until I could no longer keep up. His path twisted and turned through the city to the point that I was completely turned around. If it weren’t for this city’s clear landmarks I would have been lost. He constantly checked he wasn’t being followed, doubling back and then choosing a new direction, watching for anyone who did anything similar.’

  ‘So he lost you?’ she said incredulous. ‘You saw nothing.’

  ‘No, listen to me. I saw him disappear into a derelict building in the end, after he had tried to lose his tails at least ten times. I couldn’t go inside and guarantee I wouldn’t get caught. I kept watch until he returned, and only just made it back here before him.’

  ‘It’s still nothing.’

  ‘It’s suspicious behaviour. Why act like that in a city you almost run? When normally he is so brazen and visible? It’s suspicious when his father died just a few hours later.’

  ‘Because of Nepheli!’ Aurelia said clutching at thin air now. She’d just about had enough, when Chrysaora’s eyebrows raised almost off the top of her head. ‘What?’ said Aurelia.

  ‘You want me to say it?’ said the thrall.

  ‘Say it!’

  ‘It
wasn’t Nepheli and we know it wasn’t you…’

  She still wouldn’t quite say it, but Aurelia could. ‘You’re saying that Faibryn poisoned his own father! But why would he do such a thing?’

  ‘This is what I mean by naivety. Remind me, one day I should tell you all the things humans are capable of.’

  ‘No, I know. Believe me, I know.’ She wasn’t unaware of human nature. She thought of Verismuss’ sliced up body tumbling out across the table, and that was just in the last few weeks.

  ‘This is why I hate entitled nobles,’ Chrysaora said. ‘He could think he’s simply securing his own throne. But in the world of princes and Dukes, it’s okay for that to mean offing a parent who’s in the way. You saw the same ambition in your own brother.’

  ‘Anthrom would never have killed father.’

  ‘But he would have killed Cassandra if you hadn’t stopped him. Faibryn is no different. Think like the Empress you are. The Argentori are nobles, career politicians in a city that has been at war with itself for even longer than it was at war with you. This kind of political machination is precisely how they work.’

  They were interrupted by a brusque knock and then the key turning in the lock in the foyer. It was far too late for visitors. Chrysaora jumped to her feet and lunged towards the door, ready to throw herself in front of whoever had come for Aurelia. It could have been an assassin for all she knew. She was unarmed; soldiers had taken their weapons and Chrysaora’s sword when they’d locked them in.

  It was General Ferdinand Opetreia, Nepheli’s father, and he had to stoop to enter the little door, he was so tall.

  Chrysaora stood down a little when she saw who it was, but not completely. Aurelia was touched. Chrysaora would still have attempted to stop the general if necessary. The laws and rules here in Argentor meant nothing to her. Aurelia wondered why they meant anything to her; maybe she should start flaunting them.

  ‘Lady Aurelia.’ He said it as if he were discussing vermin. Dressed in his military uniform he cut the impressive figure wherever he went, groomed and precise. In her experience he was a bigoted noble, who couldn’t see beyond the end of his nose, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to look the part.