Pillars of Six

by St Clare, Kelly

  Only a day or so must’ve passed. She had to stay strong. Whatever problems sat between her and her fathers, Ebba knew with certainty they wouldn’t rest until she was free. She also knew by now that when the situation demanded courage, she was capable of standing on her own two feet. Somehow, she’d get herself and Verity out of here. Ebba couldn’t rely on her fathers for everything, and she couldn’t just see herself as part of a crew anymore. Knowing who she was apart from her fathers was important too. That was why, since Pleo, it had felt like she was afloat. Because Ebba had no clue who she was without them. At some point, and in some situations, she had to be capable of surviving on her own.

  This was such a time, just like Syraness.

  “Ebba-Viva?” Verity croaked.

  Ebba jerked, and clutched her chest. “Verity. Sink me. I thought ye might’ve carked it.”

  “Still here,” the soothsayer replied drily.

  “Good, ye need to keep doin’ what yer doin’. Locks’ll get us out, ye’ll see.” Ebba paused as something occurred to her. “Hey Verity, why are ye down here then? What does Pockmark want from ye? He want ye to work yer hocus-pocus on sumpin’?”

  “No, Ebba. He is feeding the ship.”

  Feeding the ship. That . . . what?

  The door swung open, and Ebba jumped for the second time. Verity made no sound in the far corner.

  “Fish-lips? Ye still here? Ye better be; Pockmark don’t want the taint to take ye afore he gets his answer.”

  She recognized Swindles’ voice, but frowned at his words. The taint. The taint that was in Caspian’s shoulder?

  Two sets of feet shuffled through the room toward her, and Ebba remained silent.

  “Ye get the manacle, Riot,” Swindles said.

  “Why do I always have to do the manacle?” Riot argued.

  “Because I’m first mate now, and I said so!”

  Riot muttered, “Ye won’t be for long. Pockmark let Jagger out o’ here. He’s never let anyone out. Jagger’ll be first mate again afore ye know it. Mark my words.”

  Swindles took hold of Ebba’s arm and dragged her up as Riot set to work on the manacle around her left ankle.

  “Not after what Jagger did, he won’t,” Swindles said darkly.

  “He ain’t in charge though, is he?” Riot muttered.

  Swindles hissed at him to shut up and shook Ebba roughly. “Bet yer fathers and ye were laughin’ fierce-like after dupin’ us with that wooden carvin’.”

  Ebba cracked a smile in the dark, remaining mute by the skin of her teeth.

  “Pockmark nearly put us in here, too, when ye tricked us on Pleo,” Swindles snarled.

  He slapped her. Without light, his arm went astray. Ebba’s head rocked to the side as the heel of his palm caught her cheek bone.

  Ebba blinked slowly, straightening. She hadn’t said anything, sod it! The sting in her cheek was only slightly more painful than the rest of her body, which felt like she’d run all day yesterday. Her muscles ached, her movement slow and restricted, and her stomach rumbled. That must be it; she hadn’t eaten since . . . well, the morning of her capture. Time was hard to track down here.

  But fear snaked up her spine as she recalled Swindles comment about the taint.

  Ebba stumbled after them as they led her to the door. They were taking her out? Even fifteen minutes outside would be a welcome relief, though she felt bad for Verity not getting a break. What had the soothsayer meant with her ‘feeding the ship’ comment? Verity made it sound like the ship was draining her soothsayer magic away and that Pockmark had caught her for that purpose. That phrase—feeding the ship—struck at a memory from not so long ago. The Earth Mother had said the evil power that was locked away 768 years ago had returned to this realm weak and nearly catatonic. That it would gain strength by feeding on mortals, but that it preferred a mix of mortal and magic. Verity was such a mix. Soothsayers were given some magic by the great powers of the realm.

  And if Pockmark’s cronies were to be believed, the taint was in that place too. She’d seen exactly what the taint could do to a person. The uneasiness under her ribs swelled.

  The passages lightened as Riot and Swindles marched her back up the four levels to the main deck. Ebba could feel some of her determination returning, as though she was throwing off the heavy dregs of sleep. The pressing feeling on her chest dissipated as Swindles pushed open the bilge door and Riot shoved her up the last ladder.

  Ebba closed her eyes and inhaled the sea air.

  The sun was high in the sky. She’d been down there for a whole day. If they let her out each day, it might not be so bad. She’d have a chance to shake off the crushing sensation of the dark room and reset.

  The pirates shoved her to the helm where Mercer waited, Jagger at his right side. Swindles glared at Jagger as they approached.

  Mercer ignored her, continuing his talk with Jagger before eventually turning to her. “Still alive?”

  Ebba arched her brows. “I think yer room be broken.”

  The captain’s face tightened, causing a wound to weep, and Ebba couldn’t help screwing her face up in revulsion.

  “My face bothers ye?” he asked, sauntering closer. He was without his tricorn hat right now, and Ebba’s eyes rounded at the clumps of pale skin where his black hair was missing. The whites of his eyes were a mess of blood streaks and discolored yellow. It could be the light, but his very pupils appeared darker.

  She gritted her teeth and contented herself with a shrug.

  The blow to her gut didn’t take her by surprise, but it still hurt like anything. Thinking before speaking was bloody overrated. Seemed like she should at least get an insult in if they hit her either way.

  “I know ye’re scared, fish-lips.” Mercer sidled up next to her, mouth by her ear. “They tell me what ye say down there.”

  He dragged a pale finger over her collarbone, and seizing the offered opportunity, Ebba kneed the Malice captain in the balls.

  Pockmark doubled over, hands between his legs.

  Foreboding swept through her, making her regret the rash move, but Ebba forced a laugh. “Can’t believe ye got close enough for that.”

  Riot and Swindles were frozen, their eyes on their captain. Ebba shifted her eyes to Jagger. He watched the Malice captain, too, his eyes unblinking.

  With fear.

  Jagger was afraid.

  Mercer recovered his voice, and the sound when he spoke sent chills of terror down her spine. “That was a bad choice. A very bad choice.”

  Eight

  “They beat you badly,” Verity said dispassionately.

  Ebba winced, cradling her side as she sat. Her eyes wouldn’t completely open. She licked her lips, tasting blood. “Aye, Riot and Swindles. I might’ve pissed off Mercer some.”

  “A foolish thing to do,” the soothsayer replied. “You’ve been unconscious since they brought you back yesterday.”

  She’d been out that long? A shame the purgium was on Felicity. It would’ve been nice to have the healing tube right about now. “Aye, I kneed Mercer in the balls.”

  Verity snorted. “Was it worth it?”

  Ebba thought about it. Nay. “Maybe once the pain be gone.” She didn’t bother trying to sit. The pain to get there didn’t seem worth it. “Do ye feel that pressure on your chest, Verity?”

  “I do.”

  “It’s worse than when I was last here. Do ye think it’s because I’m hurt?” Ebba couldn’t get the feeding comment out of her head.

  The woman paused. “. . . Perhaps.”

  “Ye’re lyin’ to spare my feelings,” Ebba said with a sigh. She hoped she was positioned in the slime-free path she’d cleared, but summoning the energy to check seemed an insurmountable task. “Verity, I ain’t never been hurt like that afore. Why did they do that?” Ebba was tired and scared and hurting. A tear leaked from the corner of her eye to the slimy floor. She wanted her fathers.

  “Because they are nearly lost to the taint, Ebba-Viva. Their so
uls are nearly gone to the dark power that lingers within this ship.”

  The taint—there it was again. “Ye mean the taint that was in Cosmo’s shoulder.”

  “I do.”

  “Is the thing feedin’ on yer powers also feedin’ on the crew?” Ebba asked. Was that why Pockmark and the others looked terrible and why Jagger had lost so much weight?

  “Yes, the taint is how they feed,” the soothsayer whispered. “As the taint spreads, they grow more powerful.”

  Ebba sucked in a breath as she processed that.

  “Are they feedin’ on me? Am I tainted?” she forced herself to ask.

  “They feed on everything in their path. They will never stop. They cannot; their power is limitless.” Verity’s chains rattled, and the woman took a labored breath.

  Ebba’s chest tightened. There were too many coincidences. The power on the ship and the evilness the Earth Mother described were the same thing. “The six pillars.”

  The ship groaned, and Ebba held her breath as the darkness in the room grew to suffocating levels.

  The soothsayer’s voice was thin. “Do not utter their name again.”

  “I be gatherin’ that,” she choked her reply. “How are they on this ship?” The Earth Mother hadn’t known where the pillars were located—she’d said that their powers weren’t yet strong enough to detect. How long had the evil been on Malice? And if Pockmark was controlled by the pillars, was that why he was hell-bent on finding the dynami and the purgium? The pillars wanted the magic objects for themselves. The Earth Mother said the cylinders weren’t the root of magic, but the tubes had to have something to do with attaining the root or the pillars wouldn’t want them.

  “The pillars are here because of the dark ambition of one man fifty years ago.”

  Ebba squeezed her eyes shut as a wave of dizziness assaulted her. “What does this mean for my crew?” If the evil was after the dynami and the purgium, the pillars themselves, not just Pockmark, would be hunting her fathers down.

  “Worry yourself with guarding your heart from evil, not with things out of your control.”

  “Ye can’t talk o’ the end o’ the realm and then go quiet.”

  Verity didn’t answer.

  Ebba huffed. “Real mature. I can hear ye breathin’.” The soothsayer didn’t speak. Ebba shifted with a groan. “Locks wouldn’t appreciate yer attitude, I can tell ye that.”

  “I couldn’t care less,” Verity snapped.

  “Ha! Got ye.” Ebba smirked. “And ye don’t fool anyone, by the way. Neither does Locks. He was tellin’ me the other day ye be the only woman he could’ve ever settled down with. Said ye were beautiful and fierce. About turned my stomach with all the gooey.”

  “. . . He said that?”

  “I don’t know, Verity. Do ye care to explain what ye meant afore?”

  Her chains rattled. “I am wary of sayin’ too much. But . . . I will tell you what I can.”

  “Aye, but don’t say their name. Say mangoes, instead. The ship groanin’ made my chest all tight, and I didn’t like it.”

  “Why mangoes?”

  Ebba frowned, stomach rumbling. “Because it be the first word that came to mind, why else?”

  Verity sighed. “Over five thousand years ago, the world was ruled by the mangoes. . . .”

  They both paused, but the ship didn’t groan again.

  “. . . Each mango, powerful in their own right, yearned for unspeakable power. Though retaining their individual bodies, they merged themselves into one entity, one hive mind.”

  Ebba had heard the same words from the Earth Mother’s lips.

  “When they joined together, their power was unmatched, as was their depravity. They pitched the realm and all the creatures within into endless night and pain for four and a half thousand years.”

  She knew the rest, and recited aloud, “They were locked away behind a wall, but now they be back. They slipped through the wall because weak magic came back through first, and they were in a sorry state after bein’ ripped from the realm by the root o’ magic and the three watchers.”

  Verity hummed. “I don’t know anything about the three watchers, but when the mangoes came back through the wall, the six of them were confined to a single mortal for many years, so weak were they. Then they grew powerful enough to leave that person to occupy this ship. The ship has infected the crew for years; slow at first and then faster and faster as the mangoes power grew. Soon, the crew’s hearts will succumb, and the mangoes will regain their shadow forms. Once that happens, they’ll become corporeal in mere weeks. Once corporeal, their power will be near unmatched. They will become the most powerful immortal entity in the realm.”

  There were a lot of big words in that speech. “How long will it take for them to be shadows again?”

  Verity fell quiet.

  Ebba’s eyes searched the dark without success. What did her silence mean? She didn’t know, or did her silence mean the pillars would manifest soon? The ship was feeding on the soothsayer. . . . How much power did Verity possess? Enough to grant the pillars their shadow form?

  Ebba tried a different tactic. “Until they be shadows, can they only affect the pirates on this ship?”

  “Once their taint reaches the hearts of the crew, the pirates will become contagious and will help to spread the taint to any living material they come into contact with—other people, animals, food, trees that aren’t on the ship. Though a person can also be infected through injury from tainted material, as with your friend.”

  She’d been touching the ship which meant she was probably tainted now—or would be soon. Ebba had to hold fast to the knowledge that Caspian had gotten better. “Cosmo healed, did ye know? He lost his arm, but he got better.”

  “I’m glad. A tainted wound claims a soul faster, but demands less of a sacrifice to be healed. The tainted crew aboard this ship would die if the purgium was touched to their skin now.”

  A shame Ebba didn’t have the purgium then.

  ”How do I know if the crew be cont’gious?” The ship was already tainting her; she didn’t want to hurry the process along by touching someone whose heart was taken over.

  “The eyes are windows to the soul.”

  . . . Right.

  “I am weary, Ebba. And you need your rest,” Verity said, her voice increasingly weak.

  Ebba needed more than rest, starting with escaping a ship that would take over her will, and then grog, a soft hammock, and Zol.

  She recalled their deal. “Locks said that he never knew what love was until he met ye.”

  The sound of Verity softly crying reached her, and Ebba stayed mute, sure the woman would hate her acknowledging it.

  “Thank you,” the soothsayer finally whispered.

  Nine

  “Hold her up,” Mercer commanded.

  How long had it been? Hours? Days? Ebba supposed it didn’t matter. Time didn’t change how she felt right now.

  She wavered on her feet, held up between Riot and Swindles. Her head lolled, and she vaguely registered that her arms were coated in a black-green mess—the slime from the room.

  They hadn’t fed her.

  They’d given her water, stale and slightly bitter that she’d just managed to keep down. At least that meant she hadn’t had to use the chamber pot much—the one it took her ten minutes to find in the dark.

  Ebba summoned her strength and lifted her head, squinting at Pockmark. Her left eye opened more than her right. Her bruises were still healing. Maybe that meant less than a week had passed. The thought was flittering and vague.

  “Four days down there, and ye’re still holdin’ up,” the captain said. “Not for much longer.” He spoke to Riot and Swindles, and she looked past him to where Jagger stood staring at her.

  He’d always played both sides. Spineless cur. Darkness edged her thoughts. He was a traitor. He knew what was right, and he never chose it.

  “Her eyes be goin’, her skin be losin’ its shine.” Mercer sm
irked down at her. “Ye can feel it, can’t ye? They all do at the start—afore they don’t anymore. My masters be takin’ ye.” He stared at the ship. “Ye’re taintin’ her.”

  Malice groaned, and Ebba swallowed back a jolt of fear as the pressure on her chest squeezed. When she’d last been above deck, the pressure had disappeared entirely. Now it never left. She didn’t have the energy to contemplate what that meant.

  A weary retort halted on the tip of her tongue. Ebba was yet to recover from the last beating, and it took all her determination just to stand. Her knees shook from the effort. She would’ve thought she could go a week without food, but the taint down there was doing something, making her weaker and somehow getting inside her head.

  Mercer was right. Ebba could feel herself becoming less, like the ship was sucking away at her being.

  Nightmares assaulted her waking and sleeping. She hadn’t spoken to Verity since waking from unconsciousness, but that fact was only occurring to her now. How was that possible? How had she forgotten about the soothsayer, a prisoner in the very same room?

  Ebba shook harder. The pillars were feeding on her. The ship’s taint was spreading into her. She had no way to resist it. Ebba was losing herself. The pillars were taking her away, piece by piece, and soon they’d reach her heart and seize her soul.

  Mercer gestured to the pirate swine holding her, and they stepped back, letting her go. Ebba tried to remain upright, managing only a few seconds until one of her legs gave out. The three pirates laughed, and she gritted her teeth, staring at the deck as Mercer began to circle her.

  “Just tell me where to find yer fathers,” he said with a smirk. “We won’t hurt them, ye know. We can be figurin’ sumpin’ out.”

  Ebba squeezed her eyes shut.

  “This can all stop if ye just tell me—”

  “Nay, ye flamin’ sod!” she shouted. “I won’t be tellin’ ye. Ever.”

  His footsteps came to a stop behind her, and Ebba tensed, knowing she only had energy to dodge out of the way once, maybe twice. The singing of a cutlass being drawn from its sheath made the breath stutter in her throat.