The City of Night Neverending

by Steven Lochran

  Drake looked around in alarm. ‘She’s right. Not even a bucket!’

  Hero snorted. ‘If you think being hit by a wisp is something, then I strongly advise against any attempts to relieve yourself. The first one of you to expel anything from anywhere gets a zamaraq plugged right in the offending hole. Got it?’

  ‘And what if the first person is you?’ Joss asked.

  ‘Won’t happen.’ Hero shrugged. ‘I have a will made of iron.’

  ‘And a bladder made of aurum, apparently,’ Joss added, making Drake chortle and earning yet another thump on the arm. He was still nursing the injury as they flew past the watery boneyard of over a dozen wrecked ships, their hulls torn wide open among the ocean bed’s jagged rocks. It was one of the last things the Bladebound saw as the water surrounding them grew as black as night.

  Joss wondered how Bhashvirak could possibly see Salt ahead of them, even with eyesight keener than that of a mortal’s. It felt as if they were being blindly propelled through a limitless void, with only the odd flash of scales from a passing fish to serve as a reminder of where they were. It was into water like this that Daheed would have sunk, Joss thought. Cold and black and bottomless. The idea sent a shiver running down his spine.

  Shaking it off, he settled in for the ride ahead, hoping against hope that they would find Edgar and the other townsfolk unharmed, that they could liberate them all without loss or injury, and that he had the willpower to avoid being plugged by any of Hero’s zamaraqs.

  All sense of time slid away. All sense of place. All sense of warmth. There was only the black ahead of them, the black behind them, the black all around. It was enough to scratch at the edges of one’s sanity. No wonder Bhashvirak and his kind had turned away from the world – it was so easy to forget that it even existed down here. Where could Edgar possibly be that would warrant such a journey, Joss wondered. How far beyond the horizon had the pyrates travelled that they could vanish like this? It was as if they’d stepped off the edge of all things.

  Trading one blackness for another, Drake and Hero both drifted off to sleep. Not Joss. He was too preoccupied and far too tense for that, scanning the water for whatever might lie just ahead of them, watching luminescent spores rushing by the lifechamber like stars streaking across the night’s sky.

  But for all his resolve to stay awake he could feel exhaustion settling over him like a blanket. He was just starting to drift off when the burning sensation of the wisp’s mark flared so painfully that it startled him, forcing him bolt upright.

  ‘Whazzit –’ Drake moaned as he wiped a thin line of drool from his chin. Gazing all around him, Joss saw no sign of danger, no hint of supernatural threat. There was only Bhashvirak’s rippling flesh beneath them and the water that engulfed them, which was now shifting from black to grey.

  ‘Is that light outside?’ asked Joss, rising to a crouched position so that he could edge over to the glass wall. What had been ceaseless, numbing black was now warming into a gentle wash of lilac and gold. Iridescent jellyfish swirled all around them, dancing on the gentle currents, while Salt swam on to guide them down towards the ocean floor.

  There, a massive trench ripped the ground in two. Circling down into its depths, they found the source of light: a curving sheet of sparkling violet energy that blocked the bottom of the trench. As they neared it, they saw it was an enormous and translucent dome. And beneath that, even further down, dozens of small fires traced the outlines of what looked to be rooftops and towers.

  Joss pressed a hand against the glass, the world spinning all around him.

  ‘What is that?’ Drake asked, rising to stand beside him.

  ‘Some kind of hidden base. Or an underwater city,’ Hero replied as she gazed with them at the collection of dark buildings clustered together beneath the dome of mystical energy.

  ‘That’s not just any city,’ Joss said gravely. ‘That’s Daheed.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  A CITY LONG DESTROYED

  DRAKE and Hero were gawking at him as if he’d gone suddenly and inexplicably mad, but Joss knew the truth. He’d never been so certain of anything in all his life. And the truth of it was that the city where he’d been born, the city he’d lost, the city he’d spent his entire life mourning, was whole and intact here at the bottom of the world.

  ‘It can’t be,’ Drake said. ‘Daheed was destroyed. This place – it has to be …’

  But Joss wouldn’t hear it. ‘It’s Daheed, Ganymede,’ he said. ‘I know it is.’

  ‘How?’ asked Hero, blunt as ever.

  Joss stared down at the city, where a central spire loomed taller than everything that surrounded it. He would have known that golden needle anywhere, even without it having been so brilliantly illustrated on the cover of Azof & the Pyrate King.

  ‘See that?’ he said, pointing to the spire. ‘That’s the Tower Memoria. The Daheedi version of a High Chamber.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t remember much about living there,’ Drake said, stubbornly sceptical.

  Joss couldn’t help but fume. ‘Would you forget your home, Ganymede?’ he asked. ‘I may have been young when I left, but being here now brings the memories back. Even if I hadn’t been told stories about it, even if I hadn’t read every book I could ever find about it, I would still remember.’

  He pointed again to the golden spire. ‘I remember the Tower Memoria. I remember how brightly it shone. I remember going there for Tribute, to give thanks to our forebears. I remember the Sworn Sisters and the Blessed Brothers who led the services, I remember their singing as it echoed around the chamber.’ The more Joss spoke, the more choked up he became. His eyes were filled with tears, though he refused to let any fall. ‘And I can hear the sound of my family lending their voices to the choir …’

  When it felt as if he was about to lose all control, he clenched his mouth shut and hid his face in the crook of his arm. That was when he felt a warm hand squeezing his shoulder, and looked up to see Drake’s reassuring face, with Hero standing right alongside him.

  ‘So this is Daheed,’ she said with conviction, then softened as she added, ‘You don’t need to be a baby about it.’

  Her dry wit made Joss laugh. He looked up to see the ghost of a smile on Hero’s face, which only grew as he wiped his watery eyes.

  ‘It’s a good thing we’re friends,’ he told her. ‘I’d hate to think what you’d say if we weren’t.’

  ‘And I’d hate to tell you,’ she replied, her smile widening into a spiky grin. ‘What about you, Ganymede? Still unsure of where we are?’

  Drake didn’t seem to hear the question. He was staring at the city as if he’d been presented with a particularly challenging mathematic equation. He turned after a few moments. ‘If Joss says this is Daheed, then it’s Daheed,’ he said with his steadfast manner. ‘But how did it come to be at the bottom of the ocean? How is it that there are lights coming from within a sunken city? What’s that field of energy that’s sealing it off?’

  ‘And, most importantly,’ Hero added, ‘is this really where the hostages are being held?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Joss said, staring again at his lost homeland. ‘But we’re going to find out.’

  The moment was shot through by a blaring pain in Joss’s head as Bhashvirak spoke again.

  ‘MORTAL BOY!’

  ‘Yes? Can you hear me?’ Joss replied out loud through the throbbing agony and the pulling in his chest.

  ‘THE SELKIE LOOKS NOW FOR A WAY INSIDE,’ Bhashvirak said, answering Joss’s question by ignoring it. ‘WE AWAIT HIS RETURN – PROVIDED HE DOES NOT PERISH.’

  Joss could just see Salt as he delved deeper into the trench, disappearing into its dark recesses with one last flick of his tail. It occurred to him that they were now stranded on the back of a colossal shark at the bottom of the ocean, thousands of leagues from any safe harbour, circling a city long thought destroyed but now seemingly populated by a band of vicious marauders. Eighteen-hour days of herding mammoths b
ack at Starlight Fields suddenly sounded like a far more appealing prospect.

  ‘The shark – did it say something?’ asked Drake.

  ‘Salt’s gone to look for a way in,’ he explained.

  ‘A way in? Is that even possible?’ Hero asked.

  ‘Clearly, if people are living in there …’ Drake told her.

  ‘Clearly I meant without being detected,’ she replied.

  ‘We’ll have to wait and see,’ Joss said, and slid down into a sitting position. The wisp mark was throbbing on his chest so powerfully it felt as if it was trying to rip itself free, making him wonder what else might be lurking in the city below.

  There was a stirring in the murky distance as Salt re-emerged from the dark waters, the gills on his neck undulating heavily. Gesturing for them to follow him, he led the way to a craggy hole in the trench wall that hung over the city and its glowing barrier like a full moon wrapped in black clouds.

  The gap was just big enough for Bhashvirak to squeeze through, bringing them into a tunnel that curved down and around, wide in some places and chokingly tight in others. It drew them deeper and deeper into the darkness, descending further than Joss thought it was possible to go.

  But slowly they began to ascend again, emerging at last into what looked to be a subterranean lake. Looking around, Joss saw that a wharf had been built along the gravelly shoreline, transforming the cavern into a makeshift harbour. And on the lone pier that stretched out into the middle of the water, a whole fleet of submersibles clanked against one another.

  They had made it through into the city. But even more amazingly than that, Salt had done exactly what he’d said he would. He had led them straight to the pyrates’ hiding place. Still in his animal form, their guide climbed up onto the pier, beckoning with one outstretched flipper for them to join him.

  ‘MIGHTY BHASHVIRAK CAN GO NO FURTHER,’ the shark said with an edge of frustration. He circled the lake, keeping Joss and the others from the pier. ‘HOW CAN THE PRETENDERS BE PUNISHED NOW?!’

  Joss thought quickly. ‘If you allow us onto the land, Mighty Bhashvirak, we can find the pretenders and draw them down to you here …’

  Again, there was a moment of stony silence as the megalodon considered the proposal. ‘VERY WELL.’

  The great shark drew close enough to the pier for the prentices to jump across, where they found that Salt had shifted back to his mortal-looking form. While waiting, he’d taken a tarp that had been strewn across one of the submersibles and crafted it into a makeshift cloak.

  ‘Can you lead us to Edgar from here?’ Joss asked him.

  The selkie shook his head. ‘This is as close as I can sense him,’ he said, then lowered his voice. ‘And Bhashvirak will grow restless if left on his own. He may not be here when we return.’

  ‘Then we need someone to stay behind and guard the harbour,’ said Drake. ‘Salt … this isn’t your fight. We asked you to lead us here and that’s exactly what you’ve done. Asking anything more than that would be too much. But –’

  ‘You would like me to stand guard,’ Salt finished his thought for him.

  ‘I wouldn’t ask you to do it unarmed,’ Drake told him as he unslung the strap around his chest. Keeping hold of the Icefire spear, he presented Salt with his original blade, the spear that he’d forged himself.

  ‘Don’t fret, Ganymede,’ Salt said as he took the weapon in hand and tested its weight. ‘No living soul will pass while I have breath left in my body.’

  Joss ventured forward to express his gratitude. ‘Thank you. For everything,’ he said. ‘We would have been lost without you.’

  Salt waved away the words, sincere though they were. ‘There’ll be time for all that later. Go. Save your friend and all those taken with him. Make this a day of warning to those who would seek to prey upon the innocent.’

  Their mission set, the prentices unsheathed their blades and made for the wharf, following it to a stairwell that had been carved out of the rock. Joss had taken only a single upward step when a bolt of pain crashed through his head.

  ‘AND FETCH ME FODDER, MORTAL BOY, THAT MIGHTY BHASHVIRAK MAY HAVE A TASTE OF JUSTICE!’

  The great shark’s words still throbbing between his temples, Joss pushed on into the looming darkness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  AN UNPITYING AGE

  THE stone stairwell curled upward like black smoke. Every breath, every step, every movement that the Bladebound made echoed through the confined space, betraying their presence no matter how cautious they tried to be. It slowed their ascent to a painful crawl, each corner they came to rife with the threat of ambush.

  Finally, approaching a jagged crack in the wall that served as the tunnel’s crude doorway, Joss and his brethren paused. Listened. If anyone was waiting for them, ready to attack, they were more silent than a knife slipped between the ribs. Still, the prentices took no chances. Signalling wordlessly to each other, they readied themselves and their weapons, then burst from the passageway ready for a fight. But nothing awaited them save a trail of phosphorescent fungi that led from the caverns to the remains of a long-abandoned campsite.

  ‘This’d be where the pyrates would station their guards for the harbour below,’ Hero said, investigating the site. She inspected one of the few weapons that had been left behind, its blade turned to rust. Then she looked over the ashy brazier set among a crop of boulders, the rocks no doubt having served as seating. ‘But nobody’s been here for weeks.’

  ‘Not commanding the same numbers they once did, do you think?’ asked Drake.

  ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Hero replied, dusting off her hands. ‘Could be they see themselves as having the perfect hideaway. They’ve grown careless.’

  ‘Which gives us the element of surprise,’ Joss said. ‘We’ll need to be quick and quiet.’

  The trail of glowing moss and mushrooms continued, leading out into an open field that practically hummed with otherworldly light. Above them, the water swirling around the protective energy dome gave the appearance of a sky rippling black and purple, while Daheed stretched out before them lit only by a bank of fires burning at its heart. Despite what he’d just said, Joss couldn’t help but slow to a stop and stare in wonder. It wasn’t just the play of light that mesmerised him. It was the city itself.

  The buildings were dark and half-destroyed, but still he recognised many of them. There was the old bakehouse, from which plumes of sweetly scented air would waft every morning, perfuming the world with sultanas and pistachios and rosewater. Further on was the toymaker’s workshop, where Joss now recalled the puppets and wooden pterosaurs that used to hang in the windows. He remembered the painted sword he would beg his mother for whenever they passed, and her patient reply of not wanting him to play with weapons. His eyes turned to the Champion’s Blade in his hands.

  ‘Joss, what’s wrong?’ asked Drake, both him and Hero faceless black entities against the bright green glow of the moss.

  ‘Nothing,’ Joss replied. ‘Being back here is just …’ He frowned, unsure of what to say or how to say it.

  ‘What?’ asked Drake.

  Joss shook his head to clear his thoughts. ‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘Let’s keep going.’

  They were silent as they progressed into the city in an arrowhead formation, Joss leading the way. Even with Hero behind him at a distance, he could sense her eagerness to push ahead and take command. Perhaps that would have been the wiser course of action, given her superior stealth and tracking abilities. But there was no way he was going to be led like a tamed beast through his own city.

  Not that he recognised it now. After the first rush of familiarity, he was having a hard time identifying anything else. It didn’t help that for every building that had managed to survive, there were piles of rubble where its neighbours had once stood. What was left was a bewildering puzzle in need of solving.

  The city wasn’t laid out in a grid or in concentric circles or in any recognisable pattern. Instead it was
like a coral reef, with undulating waves of buildings set along twisting streets, their balconies stacked on top of each other as if all the drawers in a cabinet had been left wide open. Even the roads were an exotic oddity, paved with crushed oyster shells to create a sleek, black surface veined with mottled silver. Joss’s boots, newly bought for this expedition, slipped as he traversed the maze, growing less sure with every step of what direction to take.

  And then they came to the golden needle of the Tower Memoria. Though it had been an awe-inspiring sight from Bhashvirak’s back, all that remained impressive about it now was its stature. Otherwise the building was a wreck, tarnished and tumbling down, though not entirely abandoned. Flames could be seen flickering from within, through the glassless arched windows at the base of the building. Sneaking over with sword drawn, Joss peered inside.

  Nothing. Tiered rows of marble benches led downward to a centre stage, where a metal barrel held a small crackling fire. Blankets were scattered nearby, a few helmets, a couple of hessian sacks. Graffiti soiled every surface: Gnash was here! read one wall. Where be the mermaidens? asked another, with impatient underlining to score the question. But, most ominously of all, one phrase, threaded like a spider web among all the others, was repeated over and over again.

  Darkness take us all.

  Joss couldn’t help but shudder. Though, for all their seeming importance, the dire words had been abandoned here along with everything else. Seeing Drake and Hero approach, weapons at the ready, Joss shook his head. ‘Nobody’s here,’ he said and both his brethren sagged.

  He was wondering where they should go next when, from somewhere beyond the tower, there came the sound of chanting. ‘Do you hear that?’ Joss asked, tilting his ear upward.

  ‘What?’ Drake said.

  Joss quickly shushed him, still trying to trace the sound. He needn’t have worried, however, as it quickly grew louder. It was a throaty call, at first emitted by a lone voice and then by many. It had the resonance of an instrument carved from wood, tubular and winding, pulled straight from the gut. And then, over that, there came the hissing of incantations. Dark words. Strange but somehow familiar.