by Mel Odom
Jherek swam hard, the knife still clenched in his fist. The pressure on his ears told him he’d gone down thirty feet or more. He searched the water and spotted Yeill still in the fishing chair less than fifty feet from his position, sinking slowly. He turned toward her and swam hard.
Two sharks glided in sinuous circles around her, close but not closing in. One of them still had the fishing line in its mouth. Beyond the sharks, three sahuagin clutching spears kept watch. They spotted him and did nothing but spread out, assuming he was fool enough to swim to his own death.
Jherek looked at them, matching all the stories he’d heard with the sight of the monsters before him. The sahuagin were huge in build, their bodies massive with muscle across the shoulders. Their legs with the extra joint looked grotesque. Broad faces with flaring fins sticking out into the water on either side of its head held dozens of narrow teeth, the black lips curled back to expose them in a threatening grimace. Their bite, Jherek had been told, could rip gobbets of flesh from a man, and the sea devils literally feasted on their victims, often before they died. Their tails whipped back and forth to help them maintain their position. The webbing between their long fingers and toes made their hands and feet look impossibly large.
Fear filled Jherek as he closed on the circling sharks, yet he was drawn to the act of attempting to save the young woman’s life as surely as a compass needle was drawn north. He couldn’t leave the young woman to her fate. Despite the water around him, his mouth was dry. He estimated that Yeill was less than twenty feet below the ocean’s surface.
One of the sharks pulled away from the other and sped at Jherek, mouth gaping to reveal its teeth.
Without hesitation, Jherek dodged, kicking out hard and twisting in the water like a porpoise. All his life the water had been his element, and even though he moved well in a ship’s rigging and on the ground, it was nothing like the way he moved in the water. He’d won every swimming meet he’d ever entered at Velen as a boy, and he’d dived deeper and better than anyone in the town, including seasoned sailors.
Madame Iitaar had suggested that it was because Jherek was linked to the sea, but even her powers of divination couldn’t tell her how. Jherek only knew that there was no place he’d ever felt more at home. The years as a shipwright’s apprentice on land watching ships he’d repaired and help build put out to sea had been hard, and he could never imagine living in a landlocked city.
Stroking furiously, he glided under the shark, missing it by inches. He decided not to use the knife. There was too much of a chance it would get stuck in the shark’s body and he’d lose it. He didn’t want the sharks in a blood frenzy.
His move caught the sahuagin by surprise as well. Evidently they’d felt confident of their shark’s kill. Their finned heads turned to him as he swam to Yeill’s side, their black eyes glinting with malicious light. The woman struggled with the seat restraints, trapped in the chair.
Jherek’s blade freed her at once, slicing easily through the leather straps. He grabbed the Amnian woman, pulling her from the chair and shoving her toward the surface.
An explosion of bubbles came from the mouth of one of the sahuagin. Immediately, both sharks turned their attention to Jherek.
His lungs burned as he watched the sharks and sea devils. He knew from his studies that the sahuagin controlled sharks and used them for war as well as security, though that control was a tenuous thing at times. He gripped the ceramic teardrop Madame Iitaar had given him when he set to sea.
Back in Velen, Madame Iitaar was known as a diviner and alchemist. She couldn’t easily craft healing potions or some of the more exotic potions, but most things that related to the sea she could make without problem. She’d given him a shark repellent potion in the ceramic teardrop.
With the teardrop in his hand, he waited till the sharks were within ten feet, silent gliding death. He crushed the ceramic teardrop in his hand, releasing the strong potion inside. A yellow glowing cloud filled the water around him, swelling out to envelope the sharks even before they were on him. He reached out with his free hand, catching the lead shark’s blunt snout. The rough, sandpaper hide pressed against his flesh, but he used the shark’s momentum with his own to slide above it.
By the time the shark slid under him, the potion took effect. Both sharks jerked spasmodically, reacting to the potion’s unique alchemy. Madame Iitaar had told Jherek the potion would create deep fear in the sharks, causing them to flee for their lives, and she was as good as her word. The sharks spun around and began to accelerate gracefully away. The sea devils tried to command them back into the cloud of repellent, but the sharks were more afraid of Madam Iitaar’s concoction than their sahuagin masters. As a result, the sharks turned on their controllers, recognizing them instead of the now fading yellow cloud as the source of the threat that filled their simplistic nervous systems. The sahuagin broke ranks at once.
One of the sharks succeeded in seizing a sahuagin in its jaws. A bloody cloud darkened the water, spreading outward. The second shark pursued one of the other sahuagin, leaving the third one free.
Lungs near to bursting from the time he’d been underwater and the effort he’d expended, Jherek stroked for the surface. He sensed the last sahuagin coming after him, cutting the distance in heartbeats, feeling the hate and excitement that it radiated, imagining he could almost read its thoughts.
He surfaced twenty feet from the young Amnian woman and drew in a deep lungful of breath. “Swim to the ship!” he ordered, gasping. “Now!”
He glanced ahead, seeing that Butterfly was coming about. Captain Finaren hadn’t given up on them. Even though the cog turned hard about, filling the sails with the almost listless straight wind rather than the cross-breeze she’d been making do with all day, she kept her port side to the marauding sahuagin aboard the manta.
The young Amnian woman screamed and cried, and Jherek knew she was in real danger of causing herself to drown before she reached Butterfly.
He turned from her regretfully, aware now too that the sounds of combat came from the cog. He took a final breath, judging the sahuagin had to be almost on him, and dived beneath the water again. He blinked, trying desperately to clear his vision while the blood from the sahuagin and sharks clouded the water.
The third sahuagin swim-flipped and thrust its trident as Jherek sank into the water. It was less than fifteen feet out. Reacting quickly, knowing he had no chance to escape the wicked tines completely by attempting to dodge, he shoved his knife hand up. The blade connected with the trident, slipping unerringly between the tines and jarring against the base. The force of the blow vibrated Jherek’s shoulder and elbow painfully. The scrape of metal on metal rang in his ears, though blunted by the water.
The sahuagin was on him, lashing out with talons from both hands and feet. Moving swiftly, faster than the wide-webbed foot that ripped up toward his midsection, Jherek grabbed the sahuagin’s scaled ankle in his free hand while keeping the trident turned from him with the other. He used the foot’s downward ripping action to shove himself down, gliding under the sea devil, then twisting to come up behind it. The unexpected move caught the sahuagin by surprise, but it moved to defend itself.
The creature slapped at Jherek with its tail, the gristled tip of it slashing a cut across his chest. Jherek ignored the pain of the wound and kicked hard, driving himself into position to reach out and capture the sahuagin’s head in his free arm before it could move away.
The sea devil bucked and twisted, swimming in fear now instead of being so confident. Instinctively, the creature dived, heading for the depths that protected it from so much of the human race.
Struggling to maintain his grip against the pull of the ocean and his opponent’s slick, scaled body, Jherek felt the pressure increase against his ear drums. Much past sixty feet, he knew, and he risked a case of the rapture of the deeps even if he survived to reach the surface. He’d seen men who’d survived the rapture, though their bodies had been bent and twisted fo
rever by it.
Desperate, he located the sahuagin’s sound chamber in back of its wide mouth by touch, then drove his blade through the thin membrane, up into its inner ear, and into the brain beyond. He didn’t stop pushing until the hilt stopped against his opponent’s jawline.
The sahuagin convulsed at once as death claimed it.
Spots spiraled in Jherek’s gaze when he released the dead sea devil. Still jerking as its nervous system gave out, the sahuagin sank, disappearing into the lower reaches of the sea. The young sailor swam for the surface. He spotted the second shark, already floating belly-up, a silent testament to the deadly skills of the sahuagin. The sea devil that had slain it moved only feebly nearby, offering no threat.
After surfacing, Jherek allowed himself only two quick breaths to recharge his aching lungs, then struck out for Butterfly. He watched deckhands hang oil lamps along the starboard side of the cog, their first line of defense against the sea devils. The sahuagin fear of fire held them back at first, and the brightness of the light hurt their eyes.
He overtook Yeill while she was still seventy yards from the cog. The young Amnian woman struggled, barely keeping her face above the water. When he came up on her from behind, she screamed in fear and turned around to swat at him with her hands. As a result, she went down at once.
Jherek grabbed her, wrapping an arm under her jaw as they both sank. He returned the knife to his shin sheath, secured his grip on her, and pulled them both back up. “Stop fighting,” he commanded in a rough voice, hoping to get through her fear.
“Jherek?” she gasped, looking up at him.
“Hang on,” he told her.
She spat water and snuffled as she cried, “There are fish men attacking the ship.”
He felt sorry for her then, in spite of everything else she’d done to him that day. For all her posing and wealth, she remained yet a child. “They haven’t taken her,” he replied, “and they won’t.”
“Jherek!” a voice called from above as Butterfly bore down on them. She was coming fast enough that white caps rolled along her bow.
“Here!” he shouted back, blinking his eyes to clear them of the saltwater.
“Valkur’s brass buttons, boy,” the sailor yelled down. “Jumping in shark-infested waters like that, you must figure you got some kind of charmed life. I tell anybody that back home, they’re going to chase me out of the tavern for telling tall tales. I hadn’t seen it myself, I’d have called the man who told me about it a liar.”
Jherek kept swimming. He’d never fully understood the things that moved him, but he knew what he couldn’t do, and he couldn’t have left the woman to die.
“Skiff’s coming down, but we’re keeping it tied up. Watch ‘er as she comes down.”
“Come ahead,” Jherek said, treading water and watching Butterfly’s approach, knowing it was going to be a near thing.
The skiff dropped down the side of the cog, the lines whirring through the pulleys. The little boat landed on the water with a flat smack that threw a wave of cold water over Jherek. Thinking she was going under again triggered another panic attack on Yeill’s part. Jherek held her, speaking calmly to her as soon as their heads were above water again.
He reached out and grabbed the skiff’s edge, feeling his bruised shoulder muscles writhe in agony as they took the sudden drag.
“I’ve got her, lad.” Old Covvey, the sailor with the most seniority on Butterfly, took Yeill’s wrist in his gnarled, scarred hand. He pulled her aboard the leaping skiff, dragged along through the cog’s wake.
Jherek let the woman go, then caught the skiff’s edge with his other hand and pulled himself aboard. He stepped over Yeill, who lay scared and shivering in the bottom of the skiff.
“Haul away,” Jherek yelled up to the men manning the skiff’s lines.
They started pulling at once, bringing the small craft up. They alternately railed against him and congratulated him on his success in saving the girl. The general consensus seemed to be that he’d gone insane, and everyone knew the gods favored those too stupid to save themselves.
Jherek didn’t wait for them to tie the skiff off, knowing Covvey would take care of his charge. The young sailor leaped up and caught the hauling ropes and climbed. Level with the cog’s railing, he swung his body out and landed lithely on the deck.
He scanned the opposite railing, seeing Finaren and the ship’s crew hard pressed to defend against boarders. Despite the difference in height between the cog and the manta, the sahuagin attacked viciously.
“C’mon, you sea dogs!” Finaren bellowed at the rigging crew. “Butterfly’s no pig to be wallowing in the trough! Make her fly or I’ll have the hide off your backs when we get to Velen!”
The ship’s crew reacted to their master’s voice. Wind cracked in Butterfly’s sails, creating distance from the sahuagin manta. The Amnian passengers stood balled up in the ship’s prow, protective of their own circle.
Jherek raced across the pitching deck, pausing only long enough to take the cutlass and hook Hagagne offered. He had no special weapons, comfortable with any that found their way into his hands. Malorrie had seen to it that he was trained in a cross section of them.
“Glad to see you made it, lad,” Hagagne stated with relief as he fell in behind. “Thought I’d never see you again after you diving into them sharks like that. You do it again, though, you better hope them sharks have at you. I’ll chomp on you myself if they don’t.”
Jherek ran the cutlass and hook through his work apron strap, then took the short bow and quiver of arrows Hagagne offered. He was one of the better archers among the crew.
“Hawlyng!” Finaren yelled.
“Aye, Cap’n,” Hawlyng responded.
“I’ll want to be using that fire projector today, Hawlyng!”
“Aye, sir. I’ve got ’er up and ready. Just you say when.”
“Now!” Finaren howled. “I’m up to my arse in these damned deep devils!”
Jherek stepped to the railing as the crew made room for him. He notched an arrow to the string as he surveyed the manta coming around. The sahuagin clung to the sides as well as manning the oars. Their scaled bodies writhed in the effort of propelling their craft along with the oars. With the darkening sky full of storm clouds, they were crouched in shadow, but Jherek could easily spot the silvery eyes that haunted many sailors’ dreams.
A sahuagin drummer stood in the prow, croaking out a rhythm. Jherek recognized it as serving the same purpose as a drum beater on a trireme. Flaming arrows from Butterfly’s crew fell into the water and occasionally sunk home in the manta, creating bright spots of yellow flame against the darkness as they flew. When they hit the sahuagin craft, the oarsmen pulled back from the fires, but one of them would always fin a wave of water over it and put it out.
“You get that girl back?” Finaren asked.
“Aye.” Jherek smoothed his wet hair back from his face, getting the measure of Butterfly’s lunges across the uneven ocean. They were rising and falling little over fifty paces opposite each other, but at the distance, that fifty paces stretched out even further, making shots difficult.
“Good,” the captain growled, “but that was a damn fool thing you did.”
“I couldn’t let her drown or get eaten by a shark.”
“You ever stop and think you ain’t got much choice in some of those matters, lad?” Finaren sounded angry, hotter than Jherek had ever heard him.
Irritation and insecurity stung the young sailor at the same time. “You mean you think it’s possible the sahuagin out there are going to take Butterfly this evening?” He meant it to come out harder, but he really wasn’t sure. There were a lot of sahuagin out there.
“Not my ship,” Finaren answered. “Leastways, not while I’m able to draw a breath. Now be a good lad and put a shaft through that croaking monstrosity in the prow. They have us on speed, but they’re a brute while Butterfly’s a lady who knows how to dance. Still, they’re going to run us down if
we let them. Even this puny wind won’t always be in our favor as we move around.”
Jherek concentrated on his shot and loosed the fletchings. The arrow caught the sahuagin in the thigh, causing it to bark in pain. Still, it snapped the arrow off and went back to croaking cadence. The young sailor drew another shaft, watching the manta draw nearer. When the craft was less than thirty paces away, he released the second arrow.
The fletching suddenly appeared in the sahuagin’s thickly muscled neck and the croaking halted immediately. It toppled over the side, clawing at its neck as it tried to dislodge the arrow.
“Hard to starboard!” Finaren shouted.
The boatswain yelled the order back and the ship’s crew and helmsman made the adjustment. Butterfly came about regretfully, losing the wind and slowing immediately.
Jherek fired four more arrows, hitting targets scattered across the manta. The thick sahuagin hide turned two of his arrows as surely as chain mail when they didn’t hit flush. At the distance, it was almost impossible to avoid hitting something.
Finaren held onto the railing as the ship crested a wave that slammed into her side. Quarrels from the sahuagin crossbows stuttered into Butterfly’s side and ripped through her sails. A man screamed only a few feet from Jherek, clutching the quarrel that suddenly appeared in his chest.
“It burns!” he screamed, falling to his knees. “Selûne watch over me.” He lasted only a moment, praying fervently to his goddess before he passed out.
“Poison,” Finaren noted. “Umberlee take them deep what use such things.”
Jherek fired another pair of arrows before the manta closed on Butterfly. For a moment, he thought the sahuagin craft was going to strike the cog, then the manta cleared Butterfly’s stern by inches, charging past. The sahuagin hurled spears and tridents as they went by, croaking angrily.