Kelos and Father Maylan were first on deck and they hurried to get the ship ready for departure as Emuel continued to weave his spell. Bestion held back for the moment, helping any of those who had escaped the tumult leap onto the ship. Beside the crew there were pitifully few survivors. He counted only a dozen or so before the eunuch's song began to lose hold and Morat finally sank below the waves.
The Llothriall was borne up on a sudden swell that whipped it into a spin, those on deck reaching for the handrail as their feet went out from under them. Above them all Jacquinto and Ignacio barely managed to hold on to the rigging as they worked at the sails. But then, with a crack, the silks unfurled, throwing rainbow swirls of light across the deck as they caught the sun.
They rode the crest of the wave thrown up in the wake of the sinking city. Bestion looked back but could see nothing to mark the place where Morat had been. He finally found his legs, managing to stand as the ship stabilised beneath him. He left the rest of the crew and survivors behind him and moved to the prow of the Llothriall. There he looked up at the Allfather and, closing his eyes, he reached out in prayer. Yet this time he did not ask for forgiveness, or offer up thanks for his safety. Instead, he directed his anger at the azure sphere and offered up his rage to the god who had abandoned them.
Eventually the wave upon which the Llothriall rode lost its power and soon they were calmly negotiating the hills and troughs of the Twilight seas once more.
Emuel had sung the last verse and was now helping Father Maylan tend to the most severely injured of the Moratian survivors. Jacquinto and Ignacio were spending their time either up on deck, in the rigging or scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. Bestion, meanwhile, had found the darkest corner of the hold in which to lose himself; refusing offers of food, drink or friendship.
To starboard followed the Calma vessel that had brought Kelos and the crew to Morat. Kelos had yet to introduce the survivors to the aquatic humanoids, reasoning that now was not the best of times to reveal this strange new race to the Moratians. But time was something of a luxury and so, once enough of it had passed for the passengers to have at least begun to compose themselves, Kelos called a meeting.
He didn't think that the hollow-eyed survivors who stared at him from the edges of the cramped day room were ready for war, but that was precisely the reality they would now have to face up to. It didn't stop Kelos from feeling like an utter bastard, however, when several of the Moratians broke down and cried after he had explained the situation.
"If we allow the Chadassa to see their plans come to fruition then it will not just be Morat we'll have lost but the whole world," Kelos said. "I understand that now is not the time you want to be dragged into a conflict you did nothing to create, but if we lose Silus we lose all hope. The Land Walkers must not be allowed to march."
"The Allfather has abandoned us," Bestion said. "What does it matter if we die?"
"Look, it was the Chadassa who were truly responsible for the destruction of Morat," Jacquinto said. "Don't you want revenge for that?"
"And after we have taken our revenge what then?" said a thin woman. "Once we rescue this Silus, won't the Chadassa just come for us again?"
"If we stop the Land Walkers from being born, then the Chadassa won't be able to effectively attack Twilight," Kelos said. "Then, with the Calma's aid we will have our chance to regroup and put the Chadassa down for good."
"And then maybe once this has all blown over we can search for new land," Father Maylan said. "Help you to build a new Morat."
"So, you want to sail us into enemy territory, put our lives at risk," one of the few remaining Stone Seers said, "while you attempt to rescue a man most of us have never heard of, let alone met?"
"Believe me," Kelos said, "the Llothriall is one of the safest places you can be in that situation. This is no ordinary vessel."
"Yes, surely you have heard the song?" Emuel said.
The Moratians didn't look convinced, but Kelos didn't have time to string out the argument any further. Already a deadly new army could be gestating in the vast womb of the Chadassa Queen.
"In order to persuade you that our course of action is the correct one," Kelos said, "let me show you something of the Llothriall's abilities. Emuel, I'll need you in the stone room. The rest of you follow me."
The only one not to follow him onto deck was Bestion. Jacquinto and Ignacio offered to go and fetch him but Kelos told them to let him be for the moment.
The deck shuddered beneath them as Emuel began a new song. In a perfect circle, surrounding the Llothriall for about a mile, the sea suddenly became still, its surface now as smooth as a mirror.
"Are you sure this is going to work?" Jacquinto said as Kelos prepared himself. "I mean, have you actually tested whether the Llothriall really can sail underwater?"
"No, but have faith. Go, do your thing."
Jacquinto and Ignacio hammered free the heavy wood bolts that were threaded through the base of each mast. Kelos then called up a light breeze that lifted the sails and furled them tightly around each one. He then brought his hands up sharply, like a conductor calling for more volume, before bringing them down just as suddenly. As soon as he did this, the three great masts dropped, telescoping into themselves with a soft hiss, until they were flush with the deck.
Behind Kelos, the men and women watching him drew closer to one another as they found themselves standing on a vast ship without sails. The sky all of a sudden seemed that much wider and deeper above them.
But the transformation of the Llothriall was far from complete.
Kelos raised his arms again and brought his palms together. He said a word that had no meaning to his audience but which seemed to whisper deep inside their minds, eliciting a shiver from each individual as they felt the magic now working around them. The Llothriall began to grow, the wood of the hull to either side flowing above them, each edge curving towards the other before joining together, closing above them like a clam shell, sealing them in what many now felt to be a huge, lightless coffin. But Kelos coughed and said "my apologies," and then light began to filter in as organic portholes blinked open down the length of the ship.
"The beauty of the Llothriall," Kelos said as his audience rushed to the windows, "is that she is as proficient at sailing beneath the waves as she is upon them."
There were gasps from those looking through the portholes as the Llothriall began to sink. No, not sink, Kelos thought, that would suggest that they were trapped in some kind of shipwreck. What the Llothriall was actually doing was submerging, the magic that now suffused every part of the vessel taking her into a gentle descent. Kelos couldn't help a huge grin plastering itself onto his features. He had wanted to try out this ability of the ship ever since he had first read of it.
There was the hiss of air being pumped through the great chamber in which they now stood and the light filtering through the portholes soon faded to a deep aquamarine.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Kelos said, "welcome to the world beneath the waves."
It was so quiet.
The only sound that reached Kelos as he sat reading in the dayroom was the low murmur of Father Maylan's prayers. Usually there would be the sound of Jacquinto and Ignacio calling to each other from the rigging or playing dice, but tonight it was almost as if Kelos and the priest were the only ones on board. The rest of the crew and passengers had decided to get some sleep.
Kelos was too restless to sleep. He kept thinking about Dunsany. The prospect of his closest friend never waking up again scared him almost as much as facing the Chadassa in battle. He had tried to distract himself with books, but he'd been reading the same page on Brotherhood beliefs and heresies for the last hour and it was doing nothing to keep his mind off things.
He didn't realise that Father Maylan's litany had come to end until a knock at the door made him jump.
"Come in."
It was Bestion. "Mind if I join you? I couldn't sleep."
"I'm surprised
that anybody can. Of course not, please."
Bestion gently closed the door before taking a seat opposite the mage. For a moment he didn't say anything. Instead he sat looking down at his hands. However, when he looked up and glanced over Kelos's shoulder his expression changed.
"My God, what are they?"
Kelos had forgotten about the Calma ships surrounding the Llothriall. He supposed that, in his worrying, he had become numb to their beauty.
"They are the Calma, or rather their vessels."
Bestion went over to the window. Kelos, deciding that he wasn't in the mood for reading, joined him.
There were about ten Calma ships visible from this side of the Llothriall, but Kelos knew that at least twice that number followed in their wake. Shoals of gemfish surrounded the ships - drawn either to the lichens that encrusted them or their lights - making it difficult to discern their shape. If Kelos had been pressed to describe their appearance, however, he'd have to say that they looked like nothing so much as giant starfish.
"It was in one of those that we came to Morat," Kelos said.
"You never realise quite how big your world is, do you," Bestion said, "until you're forced to leave home?"
"Quite, and I can assure you that the crew of the Llothriall know what it is to be exiles. If we ever returned home we'd be tried and executed for heresy."
"Your church would do that?"
"It isn't my church."
"But you believe in the one god, just as we do?"
"In my own way, yes, though I don't think that we can say that we really know Him. Or Her. Or It, for that matter."
"I know what you mean," Bestion said. "I always thought I knew our world and our god but then you came along. Our world fell apart and our god abandoned us." Not hearing it in Bestion's voice, Kelos looked for any sign of anger or hatred on the priest's face but all he saw there was exhaustion. "And this fight, is it worth it?"
"You've met Silus. I know that you've sensed how extraordinary he is. Would you say that he's worth fighting for?"
Bestion watched the Calma armada as it followed them, the great limbs of the ships propelling them slowly through the darkness.
"You know," he said, "I'm not quite sure why I believe this but yes. Yes, I'd say he's worth fighting for."
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Great Ocean stood with its followers, watching the twitching and trembling of the Queen. The heat rising from the great mound was so intense that it instantly cooked any of the sealife that came within a mile of it. The Chadassa themselves were standing at a safe distance, not wanting to join the litter of dead fish and marine mammals that radiated out from the great mound.
Silus had entered the embrace of the Queen only hours before and, already, the process was near completion. The birth of the new race had taken millennia to prepare yet only moments to realise. Soon the Chadassa would leave the sea behind, there to call forth a much greater ocean; one that was infinite, untainted and pure.
The ground shuddered and cracked. Vents opened up around the Queen, spewing black jets that bubbled high before solidifying into thin, twisted ebony sculptures. The heat suddenly died away and a cool tide rolled over the gathered Chadassa.
There was silence then and the Queen was still.
The Great Ocean could feel the expectant stares of the congregation. The elders clutched at their robes, willing forth the progeny of their god. The creature that had been Zac twisted and thrashed, while the Chadassa younglings hiding within the hollow of the Great Ocean's torso chattered in their idiot language.
The Queen sagged, the walls of flesh bowing outwards, rolling towards them a little way before coming to rest. Then she ruptured; a thick soup of amniotic fluid and shredded flesh boiling into the sea. As the cloud rolled over them the Chadassa tried not to gag on the nauseating stench that flooded their gills. They could see nothing of the Queen now. Some of them tried to make their way towards the mound, but the Great Ocean called them back, knowing that it would mean death for those who wondered into the path of what was about to emerge.
A pale light suffused the fog of debris and low, dark shapes could be seen within, shambling towards them. They grew in stature as they neared, looking much like the Chadassa themselves in outline, but when the first of the creatures stepped out of the cloud the differences in the new race were more marked than the similarities.
The Land Walkers stood twice as tall as the Chadassa and whereas the Chadassa were dark and scaled, these creatures had smooth, pale hides. The same vicious, quills ran from the top of the skull but they did not stop at the base of the spine. Instead they ran down the length of a long, thick tail that trailed behind, dragging along the seabed. The arms were shorter than the Chadassa's but well muscled, with hands almost human in appearance. Though these creatures had lost their brethren's talons they had developed a more powerful jaw. The snout was long and lupine, lined with razor-sharp teeth and crowned with wide, deep nostrils that looked capable of smelling out the smallest of prey. The eyes were entirely human in shape, only the night black pupils, flecked with gold, spoke of their alien ancestry.
The Land Walkers ignored the Chadassa before them - despite their calls of praise - and strode away from the citadel. The Great Ocean knew that if they tarried beneath the waves for long they would die. The sea was not their home, instead they would become the new masters of land and bring death to the human race.
The Great Ocean looked up to where the faintest glimmer from Kerberos pierced the waves.
A long time ago, before Twilight even existed and when just a handful of planets hung turning in the void, that azure globe had given birth to the Great Ocean. For a while the Great Ocean had worked in perfect harmony with the rest of the universe, but it had soon grown envious of creation. And so it had come here, to the best loved of all the worlds, and seeded it with creatures of its own imagining. For that the Great Ocean had been exiled to the very edge of the universe, where the roaring nothingness was barely held back by the fabric of reality. Over the millennia, though, it had begun to hear another sound. The call of its children. A plea no parent can ignore.
When the Chadassa had grown sufficiently in power they had pulled their god out of exile, drawing it across the universe with the force of their will. As the Great Ocean had phased into orbit with Kerberos it had thrown a blanket of silence over the planet, so that none would hear its call. Now it was time for the Great Ocean's children to leave the cradle and remake reality in its name. It understood now something of the pain Silus had gone through when his child had been taken from him. The pride that the Great Ocean felt in the creatures that marched towards land was so fierce that it regretted the brevity of the lives it had given them.
The ground shook as the birthing process accelerated. The Chadassa continued to gaze in awe at the rank upon rank of Land Walkers that marched past them. But these wonders were the smallest part of what they would soon behold. Soon, all of creation would ring with the songs of their praise and the Great Ocean would be all and all would be the Great Ocean.
Not far from where the Great Ocean stood, two Land Walkers dropped, their flesh burning. They made no sound as they fell and for a moment the god didn't understand what had happened, but then it saw a flash of light at the edge of its vision.
The ships unfolded from the darkness, glittering with light as they discharged their weapons. The Great Ocean had only a second to call a warning before the citadel began to fall apart.
Something was pushing down on Silus, smothering him as it closed over his face like a wet blanket, pulling him out of his warm, safe slumber. He scrabbled at the thin membrane, tearing it away before it could suffocate him, and fell to the sticky floor when the webbing that had held him in place gave way.
Something was wrong with the Queen.
All around him egg sacs were bursting as they putrefied, spilling out half-formed and aborted Land Walkers. One creature cracked as it hit the floor, its eye sockets empty and dry. Anothe
r crawled towards him dripping mucus, a fat black tongue lolling from its wrinkled jaw. Silus backed away from the abominations only to be dragged to the floor as a large wet hand closed over his face. A Land Walker that was little more than a torso squirmed over him and clamped its mouth on a nipple, futilely trying to suckle. When Silus pushed it away his hand sank into a skull that tore like wet paper, the brain beneath a sponge that crumbled beneath his touch.
There was a dull thud then and the chamber shook. Silus noticed the rent in the wall just a second before the sea rushed in.
He flailed in the darkness, a multitude of limbs brushing up against him as he tumbled through a nightmare of grotesques. A hand made a grab for him and he struck out, only to find his wrist clamped in a firm grip.
Silus turned to see what had grabbed him and found himself looking at his reflection in twin disks of glass. It took him a moment to realise that he was looking at someone wearing one of the underwater exploration suits from the Llothriall. Above the figure hung the ship itself and it gestured towards the vessel urgently. Spurred on by the sounds of fighting, Silus followed.
On board, when he saw who was within the suit, Silus gave him a fierce hug.
"Kelos! Gods, it's good to see you. Where's Dunsany?"
From the pained expression on the mage's face he could tell that something bad had happened.
"What? What is it?"
"Silus, you tried to kill him."
A chill ran through him. Silus tried to think of something to say, but there was nothing.
"I had no idea, really Kelos. You have to believe me. I remember nothing."
"The Chadassa within you was driven on by Belck," Kelos said. "He made you open Dunsany's throat. I thought we'd lost him. I thought we were all dead. But the Calma rescued us."
The Call of Kerberos Page 23