by Geonn Cannon
A golem was standing guard at the top of the stairs. It turned at the sound of her approach and she sent out a burst of magic to decapitate it. The creature fell backward and bounced when it hit the deck. Beatrice stepped over it and started to continue on, but she stopped and looked back at the body. Its head was mush, the point where it had been connected to the body little more than a nub. Virago had been able to use the sea because she was a water elemental. Beatrice was able to destroy the golems with such relative ease because she was an earth elemental.
She crouched down next to the body and put her hand on its chest. Whatever life Virago had put into it was completely gone. She didn’t know if she could awaken it again and, frankly, she didn’t want to. Creating even brainless life was too close to a brand of magic she didn’t want to mess around with. If her magic was indeed stronger with clay and stone, hopefully she could use the golem bodies as a weapon without tiring herself out too much.
With a quick look around to ensure she was still alone, Beatrice stood up and compressed the golem at her feet into a flat, featureless sheet. She stepped onto it, grimacing at how similar it felt to standing in a puddle of mud, and pushed herself up. For a moment she was afraid her feet would push through, but the makeshift flying carpet strengthened. She created a gentle breeze to push herself up over the navigation deck. She took care to avoid any bridge windows so Virago wouldn’t see her as she ascended.
Once she was high enough to see the majority of the deck on both sides of the ship, she leaned forward to find the rest of the golems. She spotted one near the bow, looking out over the water for some reason. She flicked her fingers and then formed a fist, and the golem’s head was compressed. It fell but she pulled it forward before it could hit the deck. As it rose, she spun it into a column of clay and then smoothed it out. She added it to the carpet under her feet.
Another one near the gangplank, one hunkering by the door that led down to the cargo hold, two more standing guard by the winch that would recover Dorothy and Trafalgar. All of them were killed and added to the thickening platform under her feet. When she was certain she’d gotten them all, she lowered herself back to the deck. She exerted some force to keep the blended former golems from splattering when they landed. She could feel something tickling along her spine and assumed the tattoo was currently burning. She didn’t bother to check as she drew her gun and circled around the superstructure. She aimed well above the masts and fired twice.
Virago stepped out and glared down at her, then searched the deck for her braindead army.
“Don’t bother,” Beatrice said. “I took care of them all. It’s just you and me.”
“And an entire Mediterranean full of water.” Virago started down the stairs. “Maybe this time I’ll just let you get swept out to sea. You may be an elemental, but you’re proving to be a true poxbottle. Better off without you, I am. Of course that would deprive me of seeing your face when I finally drain the life out of you. And I am very curious about what will happen to your magic when you die. Maybe I can absorb it into myself.”
Beatrice said, “You talk a lot.”
Virago smiled. She had reached the deck. Her energy flickered around her hands. “You do realize I don’t want to hurt you. I certainly don’t want to kill you. We could be partners. We could find our fellow elementals and... oh, the power we could have then. Surely you know the rumors. We’re myths and legends, you and I.”
“Nah.” Beatrice dropped down and to the left, sending out a flash of energy that caused Virago to leap back out of its way. She countered with energy of her own, and Beatrice scrambled around the capstan. Virago followed, but Beatrice was already running along the port side of the deck. She kept her head down as Virago launched more attacks, creating sparks of light that whipped painfully across Beatrice’s back and upper arms. She didn’t retaliate, just ducked and altered her course to make it more difficult for Virago to pin her down.
Virago followed her. “You’re not even going to fight? At least make this sporting.”
Another crackle of energy hit Beatrice’s foot and forced her ankle to twist. She went down hard, stopping her fall by flattening both hands on the deck. Virago closed the distance between them, one hand raised with a ball of lightning cupped in her palm.
“You just run away? Maybe you’re not an elemental after all. Maybe you’re just a dumb girl with a tattoo.”
Beatrice said, “Or maybe I have a better use for my magic than firing blind.” She stuck her arm out to the side, curled her hand as if she was grabbing a rope, and she pulled. “Let’s see how you like my wave.”
Virago looked just as the wall of clay erupted over the bridge. She shot the energy she had gathered at the approaching tsunami, but a water elemental couldn’t stand a chance. Beatrice scrambled back so she wouldn’t get caught up as the clay hit Virago. She was completely enveloped in it, knocked to the ground and smothered by it, and Beatrice got up on her knees. She held her arms out in brackets and clenched her jaw as she forced the whole mess into a smoother shape. Sweat dripped down her face as she reformed it with her mind.
After a moment, Virago’s head burst free. Beatrice hardened the clay around her neck and then did the same around the entire construct. When she was finished, she could taste blood on her lips. Virago twisted and fought against her prison, but Beatrice was fairly certain she wouldn’t be able to break free. At least not before she and a few members of the crew had moved her to the brig. She got to her feet, every joint aching as she approached the ship’s new masthead.
Virago glared, her face and hair streaked with clay. “You are going to suffer for this humiliation, Beatrice Sek.”
“Maybe. But the memory of seeing you like this may be worth it.”
“We could have been allies.”
Beatrice walked past her to go find someone to help her move the prisoner. “Maybe so. But then you threatened to kill my friend, and I lost interest in playing nice.”
She went to the bridge, still nursing her various aches and pains. Captain Baker, Virago’s reluctant partner-in-crime, was conscious and slumped against the console. When he saw her, he immediately raised his hands in surrender. “I’m hoping this means you took out that crazy witch. If so, you did us all a favor. I ain’t about to fight you.”
“Good.” Huey had been left by the door and she knelt beside him. His face was blossoming into a fairly livid bruise, one eye completely closed and his lips swollen. She only intended to check his pulse, but he surprised her by opening the one eye that could still see and focusing it on her.
“Tol’ oo to go.”
“I did,” she said. “I got away, and I got her.”
He managed a pathetic version of a smile. “Good job.”
She patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you for the key. You’re the one who saved us, not me.”
“Agree to disagree,” he slurred.
Beatrice told him she was going to free the others and then come back to check on him. She stopped by the console and looked at the control screen for the submersible. It was still stationary, still locked. They had stopped close to nine hundred meters down and hadn’t moved for nearly two hours. She could only hope they’d found something spectacular, something world-changing.
“I finished the housekeeping, Dorothy,” she said softly. “You can come home any time now.”
She put her hand against the screen as if Dorothy could feel it, then turned to begin freeing the rest of the crew.
#
Dorothy finished with another rubbing and looked up to check Trafalgar’s progress. She was crouched to get a close-up picture of the jewels and gold decorating the front of one tomb. Dorothy craned her neck back to look up at the fungus giving them light. Had it already been there when the Carians carved out the tunnel, or had they somehow introduced it to the environment? Were the bodies added one by one, or had this been some sort of mass grave? And what secrets would be found when they examined the bodies that were left behind? Were
they soldiers or peasants, commoners, prisoners? Was the antechamber proof that these graves belonged to royalty? She could spend decades investigating the cave and she would only scratch the surface of what was waiting to be known.
“Trafalgar.”
“Yes?”
“Take a moment.”
Trafalgar looked over her shoulder, then stood up and ran her eyes along the row of tombstones. They were standing amid the final resting place of a nearly-forgotten civilization. One of the oldest and most obscure races that ever walked the earth, and now they had found a treasure trove of history. Each stone had a name, a date, and more information Dorothy didn’t even want to speculate about. The room they were in could shine a light on one of the darkest periods of human existence. A time before the pyramids, when the Mediterranean was dry, when monsters like the Minotaur still thrived.
“It’s a monumental discovery,” Trafalgar said.
“A fitting cap on Eula Boone’s career. She’ll be remembered as the woman who resurrected the Carian race. She would have been proud of that.”
Trafalgar said, “And of her granddaughter.”
Dorothy nodded and wiped her eyes, leaving a smudge of charcoal on one cheek. “It wouldn’t have been possible without you. I never could have finished her work if you weren’t here, Trafalgar. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to be here to witness something so amazing.” She looked around again. “I just want to photograph everything. There’s not enough film in the world for it, I fear. This is the true death trap. I never want to leave.”
Dorothy laughed. “I understand. But I suppose at some point we must return to the surface. We’ll remain until your current roll is exhausted, and then we’ll force ourselves to go back to the submersible.”
“I’m amenable to that.”
“It’s almost a shame,” Dorothy said. “This room has been untouched for the whole of human history. When we get back to London, we’ll be unleashing a horde of well-meaning archaeologists, historians, and academics on it.”
Trafalgar said, “They’ve been resting in peace for untold generations. Revealing this tomb to the proper authorities on the subject will turn it into a protected site. Once everyone knows what is here, it will be guarded from those who would simply scavenge it for what they could sell.”
“One of whom is currently perched above us waiting for a signal there’s something worth stealing. What say we hurry up and go deal with her?”
“I concur.” Trafalgar looked at the nearest headstone. “These people helped form the ancient world. It’s time they were known.”
Dorothy nodded her agreement and took out a fresh sheet to begin rubbing the next engraving while Trafalgar moved deeper into the darkness to find something unique to photograph.
Chapter Twenty-Four
With the help of the liberated crew, Beatrice managed to get Virago moved down to the brig. She retrieved the magic-cancelling cuffs that had been holding her and fastened them onto Virago before freeing her from the ball of clay and securing her in a cell.
“Are you going to behave yourself now?”
Virago sneered. “You can’t hold me forever. Eventually I’ll be free to come after you again.”
Beatrice said, “Good. I’d hate to have to go looking for you. You said we were sisters, that we were meant to find one another. You’re wrong. I’ve never had a family. I’ve never had anyone I cared about. I don’t know who gave me this tattoo, but I know who gave me purpose. I know who means the world to me. So listen well. If you harm Dorothy Boone, if you so much as threaten her, I will use everything available to me to track you down and make you pay. Am I clear, Miss Potter?”
“Crystal,” Virago said, her lips twisting into an oddly approving smile.
Beatrice turned and walked away. She waited until she was on the stairs before she let herself sag against the wall. She was incredibly weakened from the fight, from everything that had happened, and she just wanted to sleep. But the battle wouldn’t be over until she knew Dorothy and Trafalgar were safe. Once she caught her breath she used the ladder to haul herself the rest of the way up the stairs and trudged forward to the bridge. Bert and Captain Mederos were standing by the radar station, and both looked up when she appeared.
Bert said, “The submersible just came back online. Engines are running and they signaled for us to start bringing them up.”
It could mean anything. One of them could have been injured or left behind, they might have run out of oxygen and been returning to the surface in a panic, or any number of other emergencies she couldn’t even imagine. They had a radio, and they hadn’t called for medical assistance when they reached the ship, but it was turned off. For all they knew, Virago was still in control. They wouldn’t announce a weakness unless they absolutely had to.
“Bring them home, Mr. Carroll.”
#
The process of leaving their discovery behind left Dorothy depressed and foggy-minded. She went through the motions of crossing the dangerous antechamber, fastening Trafalgar’s helmet and then waiting while Trafalgar fastened hers, and then swimming back to the submersible. She dropped into her seat and fastened her harness as the water was drained from the interior. Through the front glass she could see the pool that could have been so easy to miss. Just a small sliver of light in an otherwise dark cave. She was glad their helmets were still on so she couldn’t voice her misgivings to Trafalgar. What if they couldn’t find the graves again? What if there was a cave-in or some other calamity? She looked at the camera in Trafalgar’s lap, safely protected by a waterproof bag.
When the water had fully drained, Trafalgar turned on the ship’s systems and sent a signal to the surface. It took a few minutes, but eventually the lights went blue and Dorothy steered them out of the cavern and began the long rise to the surface.
“We should be prepared for an assault when we reach the Cervantes,” Dorothy said.
Trafalgar nodded. “We’ll hardly be in any position to stage an assault. We could attempt to negotiate. Use the photos and rubbings we acquired in the cave as collateral to keep her from attacking us on sight.” Dorothy grimaced. “The alternative is we’re taken prisoner and she takes everything anyway. Even if she sells the photographs to the press, the important thing will be that they’re out.”
“I suppose,” Dorothy sighed. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“The way I see it,” Trafalgar said, “we can only do harm by reacting violently when we breach. We surrender and hold back information about the death trap we discovered. She’ll have to keep us alive for the trip back to London. That will give us ample time to stage a mutiny and regain control of the ship.”
Dorothy nodded. “I understand the logic, and I believe you’re right that it’s the best course of action. But it still feels far too much like giving up.”
They remained silent for the rest of their ascent. Light increased, and soon curious fish were once again brushing against the submersible’s glass and peering in at these strange creatures that were invading their tranquility. Dorothy had to try navigating around outcroppings which forced them to go a bit slower than they otherwise would have, but soon they had reached the surface. Water cascaded down the glass and the sun filled the cramped space with unbelievably bright light.
“Crumbs,” Dorothy said, blocking it with her hand. “Was it always so bright?”
“Can’t see a blasted thing.”
Dorothy squinted as they were brought up the hull. Her vision cleared enough that she could see the sun was on the horizon. The angle was just right to shine directly onto their faces. The armature swung out and magnetically attached to the side of the submersible to pull them back to the cradle.
“I suppose it’s a good thing we already decided to surrender. Wouldn’t be much good in a scuffle if I can’t see who I’m fighting.” She unfastened her harness. “I’ll go out first, just in case she’s in a shooting moo
d.”
“I’m starting to think you have a death wish.”
Dorothy shook her head. “Not at all. I just feel that I’m the one who antagonized her, so I might as well test the waters, as it were.” She stood up and unfastened the hatch. “I’ll try not to get any blood on you if she does shoot.”
“That is extremely unfunny.”
Dorothy grinned and pulled herself up through the opening. She held her hands up, fingers splayed, and looked down at the deck.
Beatrice was sitting in a chaise, one foot up on the winch mechanism. She was in her undershirt, eyes protected from the sun by a pair of goggles, her hands folded neatly on her stomach. She still shaded her eyes when she looked up.
“Oh. Hello. Back already?”
“Well, we didn’t want to keep you waiting.” Dorothy climbed out and Trafalgar, having seen Beatrice through the glass, followed her down. Dorothy looked toward the bridge as Beatrice stood up. “We were under the impression you had some sort of mishap.”
Beatrice shrugged. “Just a few unannounced visitors. Nothing we couldn’t handle.”
Dorothy grabbed Beatrice’s suspenders and pulled her close for a forceful kiss. Beatrice put her arms around Dorothy’s waist and let the kiss continue until Dorothy pulled away.
“I had a bad feeling myself.” She ran her fingers through Dorothy’s hair. Her voice was calm because allowing any emotion to seep in would have broken her. “Your hair is wet. There is no reason for your hair to be wet if everything went according to plan.”
“We can talk about that later.” Movement from the bridge made her step away from Beatrice. She wouldn’t have taken back the kiss for anything, but she still didn’t want to advertise her sexuality to a group of strangers. “These uninvited guests you mentioned... I assume their ringleader is still present?”