by Jon Skovron
Alash saw he had crossed a line and hastily released her hands. His eyes fixed on the deck as he stammered out, “I am so sorry, Miss Lin, to let my enthusiasm get the better of me. Please forgive my rudeness.”
Hope watched Brigga Lin’s expression carefully, but she gave nothing away. After a pause, Brigga Lin reached out and took Alash’s hands again.
Alash looked at her, his expression cautious, but hopeful.
“It is a gift,” Brigga Lin said quietly, “to have friends for whom the world still holds so much wonder.” Then she let go of his hands, turned, and walked away.
Alash stared wistfully after her.
Hope patted his shoulder. “That could have gone worse.”
Alash gave her a sheepish smile. “I’m not much good with women, am I?”
“Not much,” she agreed.
Dawn’s Light was only a dot on the horizon when Hope gave the order to strike sails and drop anchor.
“We’ve still got a fair bit of daylight left, Captain,” said Finn.
“I know,” said Hope. “Let’s have an early meal and make our plans now. It’s going to be a busy night.”
The crew of the Kraken Hunter met over a simple meal of hardtack and salted pork a short time later.
“I want to approach Dawn’s Light with caution,” said Hope. “Under cover of darkness as far as we can safely get without being seen. Then take a small group ashore the rest of the way in the boat. This will be observation only.”
“Sneaking around, maybe cutting a throat or two if necessary?” asked Nettles. “That plays much more to my quality than a boarding party. Count me in.”
“Good,” said Hope.
“You’ll need me, too,” said Brigga Lin. “If the idea is to assess the biomancers, their strengths and possible plans.”
Hope nodded.
“You want me, too?” asked Filler.
Hope gave him an apologetic look. “Your leg would be too loud for something like this.”
Filler sighed. “Never been too good at sneaking anyway. Red always said so.”
“We really need to see what enhancements we can make on that brace,” said Alash, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “We threw it together in a rush ages ago and haven’t reexamined it since.”
“Good idea,” said Hope. “That will give you two a project while I’m gone.”
“What about me, Captain?” asked Jilly. “I can sneak.”
“This is a serious thing for grown-ups to do,” said Nettles dismissively.
“It’s much too dangerous for you,” agreed Brigga Lin.
Jilly looked crestfallen and Hope felt a pang of guilt. She agreed with Nettles and Brigga Lin. But she remembered what she’d been like at that age, always eager to show Hurlo what she could do. And he had never coddled her. If anything, he’d pushed her to the brink of what she was capable. But then again, he had the right to do that, because he’d trained her. And that’s when an improbable idea occurred to her that seemed so dangerous, and yet so right, she felt a quiet rush of pleasure.
“It’s true that you’re not ready for something like this,” she told Jilly. Then she turned to Nettles and Brigga Lin. “But perhaps that’s our fault. How can she become ready, if we don’t teach her?”
“I could do a bit more,” admitted Nettles.
Hope turned to Brigga Lin.
“Surely you don’t mean me?” asked Brigga Lin.
“Jilly is a bright, motivated, and independent girl,” said Hope.
“She does show some promise,” conceded Brigga Lin.
“And she risked her life for all of us with Alash’s slippy lightning device,” said Nettles. “So you know she’s not some poncey coward.”
“True,” admitted Brigga Lin.
“Here is what I propose,” said Hope. “I will take her on as a student and train her in the Vinchen arts, if you train her as a biomancer.”
Brigga Lin stared, her mouth slightly open. She tried to speak several times, but nothing came out. At last, she managed, “It would take years.”
“Yes,” said Hope. “It will. But what you and I started shouldn’t end with us. Don’t you agree?”
Brigga Lin frowned thoughtfully, but said nothing.
“I’m a real good reader, Miss Lin,” said Jilly. “Red taught me a long time ago. I read all kinds of things. Just ’cause I don’t speak all lacy, don’t mean I’m not smart. I can learn anything you teach. I swear.”
For some reason, Brigga Lin looked at Alash then. He had stopped paying attention to the conversation by then and was busy examining Filler’s leg brace, making notes to himself on a scrap of parchment.
Brigga Lin watched him for a few moments, then without turning said absently, “Don’t use double negatives.”
“What?” asked Jilly.
Brigga Lin turned to her. “If I am to teach you, it will begin with grammar. Biomancery requires precise thoughts. Precise thoughts require precise language. Do you understand?”
Jilly’s eyes went wide. “Yes, Miss Lin.”
“Sorry,” said Missing Finn. “But do I understand right that you and Hope plan to make Jilly here into a Vinchen biomancer?”
“Progress is inevitable, Mr. Finn,” Brigga Lin said primly. “Do try to keep up.”
They waited until the sun had dropped behind the horizon before they weighed anchor and sailed the rest of the way to Dawn’s Light. It was a tiny island only a few miles across, with one small, empty dock, a squat military barracks, and no town or village. It looked exactly as Hope remembered it.
Except for the tents. When she saw them, old dread began to stir deep within her. Feelings of darkness she thought she’d left behind.
“You okay?” asked Nettles as she rowed their dingy quietly toward shore.
Hope nodded. “Those tents bring back unpleasant childhood memories.”
“Biomancers frequently use them as temporary labs when there are no permanent structures suitable,” said Brigga Lin.
“So it might not be the same experiment I saw before?” asked Hope.
“It would be highly unlikely.”
“Good,” said Hope.
“But keep in mind that this island is used for experiments deemed too dangerous even to be conducted on a remote island in the Southern Isles.”
“So you mean it’ll be something worse?” asked Nettles.
“Not necessarily worse,” said Brigga Lin. “But with a higher chance of either contamination or uncontrollable escalation. The reason this island is so barren is because they’ve already had to strip it clean of life more than once.”
“And here I am, rowing toward it,” said Nettles grimly. “Sunny.”
“Stop rowing.” Hope squinted her eyes out across the dark water, straining to see whatever had made the faint splash she’d just heard.
“I was joking,” said Nettles.
“Shhh!” It was a new moon and there wasn’t much light. So once Nettles put down the oars, Hope closed her eyes and listened. She heard Nettles and Brigga Lin breathing. Beyond that, she heard the water lapping against the side of the boat. And beyond that… she heard something cut across the surface of the water, then disappear.
“There’s something out there,” she murmured as she slowly fastened her clamp to her sword.
“I thought it was strange that there was no naval escort at the dock,” said Brigga Lin. “They must have put some other security measures in place.”
“Like what?” asked Nettles.
Something bumped against the small rowboat hard enough to send it drifting sideways.
“Piss’ell, I really hope it’s not seals.” Nettles squinted into the darkness.
“Seals would have tipped the boat by now,” said Brigga Lin.
The water around the boat grew still again as the three waited. Then a shape burst out of the water. Hope’s sword was in the air but the cramped conditions prevented her from getting a good swing while seated. Instead she held it up, the flat side faci
ng out, her hand pressed against it near the tip. A pair of powerful jaws with rows of sharp teeth closed around the blade.
“Goblin shark!” said Brigga Lin.
The goblin shark was over fifteen feet long, dark purple in color, with a long pointed snout and jaws that could not only extend beyond the snout when attacking, but also rotate a full ninety degrees in either direction. This last detail was one of the biomancers’ enhancements, along with the ability to swim comfortably in shallow waters, increased strength, and aggressiveness.
Its dark eye fixed on Hope as it bit down on the blade. Its jaw twisted hard one way, then the other, trying to wrench it from her grip. The force was so strong, if she’d been holding the sword with her hand, it would have worked. The Song of Sorrows might have been lost forever, along with her life.
The clamp held strong and the sword stayed where it was. Even so, she could feel the tension wires strain. If she didn’t do something quickly, they would rip her tendons.
Nettles’s chainblade snapped out and stabbed the eye. The goblin shark shuddered and began to pull back. But the Song of Sorrows had embedded itself so deeply in its jaw that it couldn’t get away. It yanked desperately on the sword and on Hope’s straining prosthesis. She grunted as bolts of pain shot up her arm.
“Release the sword!” said Brigga Lin.
Hope gritted her teeth and shook her head.
“Drown it all,” muttered Brigga Lin as she wove her hands in an intricate pattern, then gestured to the goblin shark.
The shark shuddered as its teeth and jaw began to decay and crumble until it finally disintegrated. Blood poured from the gaping hole in its face as it fell back into the water.
“We should move quickly,” said Brigga Lin, sliding over to sit next to Nettles and taking one of the oars. “They’ve been modified to become pack animals, so there’s more close by. And once they smell the blood, they’ll start to swarm.”
Brigga Lin and Nettles rowed rapidly toward the shore. A few minutes later, Hope could hear the water churning as newly arrived goblin sharks fought over the wounded shark.
Once they reached shore, they dragged the boat up the beach until they reached an area with enough scrub brush to partly conceal it.
“It’s not much,” said Hope. “But we should be gone by daybreak anyway.”
Most of the island was a flat expanse dotted with rocks and low shrubs. Now Hope was thankful that there was hardly any moon. Even so, she felt their exposure keenly as they crept across the wide, open area until they reached the cluster of tents.
In the center was a large rectangular tent, perhaps fifty yards across. Smaller tents formed a rough circle around the larger one. Hope couldn’t see anyone around, but there were lanterns lit at regular intervals.
“I’d hoped they would all be asleep,” whispered Hope as they crouched behind a stack of crates that smelled strangely of swamp mud. “But obviously, they wouldn’t leave lanterns lit while they slept, so they must still be working.”
“Some experiments are photosensitive and must be conducted at night,” said Brigga Lin.
Hope pointed to the closest small tent, which was unlit. “Let’s check that one first.”
There was a small gap between flaps in the tent’s entrance. Hope peeked in and saw a body on the ground, feet pointed toward her. The ankles were wrapped in chains and staked securely to the ground, but there was no movement. The faint light prevented her from making out any more details, but she caught the unmistakable stench of death.
She motioned to Nettles and Brigga Lin to follow, then slipped into the tent for a better look.
“Piss’ell,” whispered Nettles when she entered the tent.
It was the body of what appeared to have been a little girl, filthy and naked. She was chained at the arms, wrists, knees, and ankles, all staked to the ground. The head had been removed.
“Why’s it chained?” asked Nettles.
Hope turned to Brigga Lin. “Any idea?”
Brigga Lin’s face was tense, but she shook her head. “Let’s look in another tent.”
Hope hated to leave the body there, exposed and desecrated as it was. But they needed to leave no trace of this visit. There would be time later, when they returned, to bury the dead.
The next tent was much the same. Small and dimly lit. Inside was another dead, naked girl chained and staked to the ground. This one still had her head, but her heart had been torn out.
Hope and Nettles turned questioningly to Brigga Lin.
“I have a suspicion. But it’s…” She bit her lip. “I need to be certain. Let’s look at another.”
They moved to the next tent. As they crept silently along, Hope could feel the dark rage beginning to coil itself around her. The girls of High Guster had been bound for this fate. How many more had there been before? How many more to come if she didn’t put a stop to it?
They found another girl in the next tent, naked and in chains, seven years old, perhaps a little younger. She still had her head and her heart, but she had been cut completely in half across the abdomen. Her entrails spilled across the ground, splayed out to reveal the severed backbone beneath. The girl’s face still had a frown fixed on it, as if in the middle of an unpleasant dream.
“This…,” said Nettles. “It’s too much.” She reached for one of the stakes, but Brigga Lin grabbed her hand and yanked it back. She looked ill, and her eyes showed something Hope had never seen in her before. Fear.
“What is it?” asked Hope. “You know what they’ve done?”
Brigga Lin only stared at the corpse. Hope looked back down at it as well. That’s when she saw the eyelids flutter.
“Did it just—” began Nettles.
The eyes snapped open. They were yellowed and shot through with red veins beneath a milky film. They rolled around in their sockets as her head moved side to side, making unsettling cracking and popping noises. Her mouth opened and closed, the teeth making faint clicking sounds as they came together hard over and over again. Her arms pulled against her chains and her torso writhed, her entrails dragging through the dirt.
Then she noticed them, and strained harder at her chains. Her mouth opened and a guttural hiss escaped from the back of her throat.
Fear, horror, and revulsion all welled up inside Hope. But none of those emotions could compete with the dark rage for what had been done to this child. Before she even had the thought, the Song of Sorrows was out of its sheath. The clamp locked on and she grabbed it with her other hand as well. With as much force as she could muster, she stabbed the thing that had once been a girl between the eyes. It shuddered a moment, then grew still.
As her rage began to recede, and reason returned, Hope realized that instead of the usual pang of grief from the blade, she felt a prickly line of cold up her arm, as if ice had flown up through her veins.
“Necromancy,” said Brigga Lin tonelessly. “I never imagined they would go so far.”
“Necromancy?” asked Nettles, still staring at the corpse. “Like summoning ghosts and the like? I thought that was just balls and pricks. A con for the grieving and desperate.”
“Ghosts, yes. But that isn’t what the art of necromancy truly is. As biomancery is the manipulation of life, so necromancy is the manipulation of things that were once alive.”
“They bring back the dead?” asked Hope.
“They don’t bring the people themselves back. They animate dead bodies. These things are near-mindless creatures who lack any will of their own and obey the necromancer completely.”
“Where does this art come from?” asked Hope.
“I thought you knew,” said Brigga Lin. “Did your grandteacher never tell you? Necromancy comes from your people.”
“My people?”
“From the self-proclaimed Jackal Lords of the Southern Isles.”
Hope’s throat felt tight. She had to force herself to speak. “I… knew of the Jackal Lords. My teacher was the one who stopped them from assassinating the
emperor. But he never told me they were from the Southern Isles.”
“Perhaps,” said Brigga Lin, “he meant to spare your feelings.”
“I thought the biomancers and Jackal Lords hated each other,” said Nettles. “So why would they be working together now?”
“It’s possible they’ve simply stolen the technique from them. It appears these experiments are being conducted to see what injuries the reanimated corpses can and cannot survive. That suggests their knowledge may be incomplete.”
“But why are they doing it?” asked Nettles.
“Perhaps it’s time we looked in the central tent,” said Brigga Lin. “The answer may be there.”
“Not through the main entrance,” said Hope. “We haven’t seen any of the biomancers yet. They may all be gathered in that one large tent.”
“Leave it to me.” Nettles pulled a knife from her boot and gestured for them to follow her out of the tent. They circled around to the side of the large tent that was most shielded from the faint moonlight. Then she dropped down to her hands and knees and cut a small slit in the tent at her eye level. She held the knife handle out to them. Hope knelt next to her, took the knife, and cut a slit for herself, then handed it to Brigga Lin.
Hope had to steel herself before looking through the slit. She had never looked away from the horrors of the world. This time would be no different, but she felt a strange foreboding as she peeked through.
At one end of the tent, by the entrance, rows of small bodies lay on the ground, lined up head to foot. There were about fifty of them, with just enough space between each row to leave a narrow aisle. Biomancers moved among the naked corpses, stopping at each one to paint the skin with a thick, milky liquid.
At the other end of the tent were more naked corpses. But these were on their feet, like statues, lined up row after row, numbering in the hundreds. Perhaps more than a thousand all told.