All The Turns of Light (Paths of Shadow Book 2)

by Frank Tuttle

  “Now!” shouted Meralda, as the waves above the moving form began to flatten and vanish. “Ascend!” A monstrous head forty feet wide broke through the Sea. The Intrepid lurched forward, her wide silver fans whirling into life, her flying coils arcing briefly as current coursed through their many miles of winding cables.

  The monster’s snakelike head, and the gargantuan neck that supported it, rose in a burst of spray.

  The beast’s maw opened. Three rows of sword-long fangs glistened, rushing toward Meralda like the tip of a toothy whip.

  Instinctively, Meralda raised her arms. “Back!” she shouted.

  Her word exploded across the distance. It rang like a peal of loudest thunder, louder than the thrashing of the serpents or the churning of the waves or the piercing whine of the fans. Meralda’s ears rang, and she gasped for air as the force of her shout knocked the breath from her lungs and sent her to her knees.

  The lesser serpents dived beneath the Sea. The mother monster’s strike faltered, well short of the ramp.

  Massive jaws snapped shut on air and spray. The creature blinked, roared, and sank back into the waves.

  Meralda gripped the rail and watched as the troubled sea fell away. The Bellringers hurried down the gangway, fighting the wind to remain standing.

  “Mage Meralda?” Tervis’s face was pale and his voice shook. “Are you all right, ma’am?”

  The wind of the airship’s passage made his words hard to hear.

  “I’m fine.” Her ears still rang. Her heart still raced. And worst of all, she had no idea what had just happened.

  Tervis offered her his hand, and she accepted his support.

  “That was an awful beast.” Kervis offered his hand as well, and Meralda, feeling a bit weak, took it too, lest the wind pull her from the ramp. “Good thing we had you and your magic to hold it at bay,” Kervis added, as they began the walk back up the ramp.

  Mug came flying down to meet them, his cage wobbling and veering as he fought to stay in control. “Mistress,” he cried, every one of his eyes fixed upon Meralda. “Don’t ever do that again. Oh, and don’t forget the horn. We might need it again later.”

  “Horn? What horn?”

  Kervis let go of her hand. “I’ll fetch it, Mage Ovis,” he said.

  Meralda watched as he risked a half dozen steps in the wind before bending and picking up Amorp’s Strident Horn. Kervis used the rail to make his way back to his brother and Meralda, the Horn clutched in his hand.

  Meralda took it from him, turning it over, inspecting it from every angle. It was indeed Amorp’s horn. Every nick, every scratch, Amorp’s scrawled signature, even the Royal Laboratory item number was there.

  Tervis pulled gently at her hand, and she resumed walking. Mug flew close beside her, his leaves whipping inside his cage, all but two of his eyes squeezed tightly shut against the buffeting gales swirling around them.

  “I left this locked in the Laboratory,” Meralda said. “Locked inside a steel case. A warded steel case.”

  As the trio made their way to the front of the gangway, they rose up into the Intrepid’s hull, and the roaring wind was left behind.

  The six penswifts aboard the airship lined the ramp, frantically sketching away. Meralda’s hand went to her neck, and she was relieved to find her blouse still tightly buttoned. Mrs. Primsbite elbowed her way to the front of the penswifts.

  “Slayer of kraken!” Mug announced, before she could speak. “That’s your headline.”

  “It wasn’t a kraken,” Meralda said. “And I didn’t slay it.”

  “Never mind that,” shouted Mug into her left ear. “Just smile and wave.”

  Meralda forced a smile, waved, and hurried out of the loading dock as fast as her feet could carry her.

  * * *

  Meralda lay on her tiny bed, a bag of crushed ice on her forehead.

  Mug hovered over her. She could hear his flying coils buzz, feel the slight breeze of his passage, even smell the after-a-rain scent of an active flying coil.

  “I tell you I am fine,” she said, not lifting the bag of ice away. “Shoo.”

  “Don’t you dare shoo me. I’m only doing what any concerned party would do.”

  “Could you possibly do it from my desk?” Meralda snapped. “It’s disconcerting, having an aircraft inches from one’s nose.”

  “Fine. Be that way.” The buzz of his flying coils indicated a retreat. “I’m just worried, that’s all. You scared off a sea monster with Amorp’s Horn, and now you claim you left the Horn locked in the Laboratory and you have no idea how you came to shout through it, even though you clearly used it to fend off a kraken.”

  “It wasn’t a kraken!”

  “Call it a water poodle if you wish.” Mug flapped his fronds. “It was bigger than our airship, and it would have gobbled us up if you hadn’t sent it back down to the briny deep.”

  “I’m not entirely sure I sent anything anywhere. I tell you, I didn’t have the Horn. I don’t know how it came to rest on the ramp.”

  Mug swiveled a gaggle of eyes toward Goboy’s Glass. “You’ll pardon my initial skepticism, Mistress, but you did after all smuggle the Glass aboard, and you are a bit of a thief. But if you say you didn’t bring the Horn, I believe you.”

  “Thank you,” Meralda said.

  “If you didn’t bring it, someone else did,” Mug said. “But how could anyone have known you’d need the Horn, of all things?”

  “No one could have known.”

  Mug imitated the sound of a heavy sigh. “I’ve never enjoyed puzzles.” He reached out through the bars of his cage and tapped the surface of the mirror. “Tower? You awake? We could use some advice. Wake up, old stones!”

  Mug’s reflection vanished as the mirror turned black.

  “Greetings, construct,” said Tower. “What advice do you seek?”

  Meralda groaned and rose, keeping the bag of ice on her forehead. “Mug,” she began, wincing.

  “We were attacked by sea beasts.” Mug ignored her and began the tale. “Mistress scared them off using Amorp’s Strident Horn, which she swears she left locked in a warded case in the Royal Laboratory.”

  “I trust the Mage is uninjured?” asked Tower.

  “I am,” replied Meralda. “Aside from this awful ringing in my ears, and the pounding in my head.”

  “Can you peek inside the case?” asked Mug. “Tell us if it’s empty?”

  “Obviously it’s empty,” muttered Meralda. “The Horn is right there beside you, on my desk.”

  “The case is warded,” replied Tower, after a moment. “I cannot see within, unless it is opened.”

  Mug rolled fifteen of his eyes. “You’re an ancient, powerful entity! It’s a box. Open it.”

  “Mage? Is that your wish?”

  “Yes. Open it, if only to grant me an hour of peace and quiet.”

  “Very well,” said Tower. “I shall need to devise a method of physically manipulating the box without tripping a ward. May I use certain items in the Laboratory to achieve this, Mage?”

  Meralda waved. “Be my guest.”

  “As you wish. This will take some time.”

  The mirror became a mirror again. Meralda caught a brief glimpse of her bedraggled visage in the glass and collapsed back onto her berth, groaning.

  “Forgetting the Horn for a moment, Mistress, why do you think the sea monsters attacked?”

  Meralda pushed the bag of ice hard against her forehead and lifted a hand for silence.

  “I suspect either the noise from the pump, or the Intrepid’s shadow on the ocean,” she said.

  “Our shadow?”

  “I noticed that we cast a shadow approximately the same size as the outline of the larger creature,” she replied.

  “Wait—you think the smaller ones were her ducklings, so to speak?”

  “Perhaps. They saw what they thought was their parent, and caused a disturbance trying to reach her. She saw the disturbance and interpreted it as potenti
ally dangerous. Thus her reaction.”

  “Hmph,” snorted Mug. “Can we fly all the way to Hang without pumping more seawater?”

  “No. We have to take on seawater. Otherwise we will run out of drinking water and lifting gas.”

  Mug wilted slightly. “So if it’s the airship’s shadow that attracts the beasts, we’ll have to do our pumping at night.”

  “Yes.”

  “And if it’s the noise from the pump that draws them, it’ll be dark and we won’t see the monsters coming.”

  “I have the Horn,” Meralda said. “It seemed to repel them.”

  “Right,” replied Mug. “We just don’t know how you came to be holding the Horn in your hand when the urgent need for it arose.”

  “Mug, I tell you I don’t even remember holding it,” she said. “Are you sure it was in my hand?”

  “Twenty-nine eyes sure, Mistress,” Mug said. “I saw you holding it. I didn’t see where it came from, but it was in your hand when you shouted.”

  “Nameless or Faceless must have fetched it.” Which clearly isn’t possible, she thought. Tower is too far away, and the Horn’s case is warded. “That’s the only explanation.”

  “Where are the wonder pigeons?” asked Mug. “Why not ask them?”

  “I tried,” Meralda said. “They don’t seem to be about.”

  “Sulking, I imagine.” Mug tapped a frond against the bars of his cage. “Well, I’m sure they’ll turn up. In the meantime, you know what you have to tell the King, don’t you?”

  “That I secretly brought the Horn aboard because a divining device suggested it,” Meralda said.

  “Clever,” Mug said. “You’re becoming quite accomplished at dissembling.”

  “It’s dishonest, and you know better than to make light of it.”

  Mug lifted from the desk and buzzed about the cabin. “Mind if I go for a stroll? I’ll come wake you when it’s time for your afternoon briefing with the rest of the officers.”

  “Go,” Meralda said. She rose, wobbled to her door, and held it open as Mug sailed through.

  Then she collapsed back onto her bunk, her head throbbing, the force of her word still ringing in her ears.

  She could not imagine how she had scared off the beasts, Amorp’s Horn or not. And why was she so weary?

  Still wondering and worrying, the soft rumble of the Intrepid’s coils pulled her down to sleep.

  ~~~

  From the private journal of Mugglesworth Ovis, Novembre 16, RY 1969

  Sea monsters. Great toothy black-eyed behemoths, writhing up from the deep, jaws snapping, necks reaching, every fiber of their monstrous bodies determined to drag us all down to one hundred and sixty-two watery graves.

  Did I not predict just this sort of encounter with fanged monstrosities from the deep?

  Yes I did.

  Perhaps from now on certain Mages and sundry Kings will not be quite so quick to turn a deaf ear toward Mug!

  We survived, in no small part due to my bravery, which I insisted be noted in the Intrepid’s official logbook. Mistress still maintains she has no idea how she came to wield Amorp’s horn, which concerns us both, albeit for very different reasons.

  Last night we tested the theory that the creatures were attracted to our airship’s unusually large shadow. After dark, we set ourselves a mere fifty feet above the waves and took on water for six hours while I kept watch over the face of the Sea. I’m happy to report that the monsters remained tucked snug in their beds (which are no doubt formed of cracked human bones and great tufts of ravaged ornamental shrubbery), and that the Intrepid’s reserves of potable water and lifting gas are now back up to snuff.

  Tower darkened the glass well after poor Mistress was finally asleep. She complained of a headache all evening. I’ve seldom seen her in such pain, so I hushed Tower’s voice and told him to call back in the morning. We can go peeking into warded boxes at a decent hour if indeed there’s any point in peeking at all.

  My secret, which I haven’t mentioned because it is after all a secret, is still safe. I imagine there will be a great outcry when all is revealed, but that is a trouble for another day. This day has seen enough worry.

  Thirty-one days aboard this great flying wardrobe remain. The skies remain calm. I won an additional four dollars tonight playing poker with two cooks, a mechanic, and a young woman named Bessie who insists on being called Beastie. Such is life on the perilous high seas.

  I remain, at least until a thousand-foot-tall kraken emerges from the Sea, Mugglesworth Ovis.

  Chapter 7

  Meralda woke to the knocking at her door, and the sound of Kervis’s voice.

  “Mage Ovis?” he asked. “I have coffee.”

  “And donuts,” added Tervis, his words muffled.

  “Well, what few Tervis here hasn’t eaten,” added Kervis.

  Meralda rose.

  The deck seemed to sway. The sunlight that poured through the porthole in a bright golden shaft sent piercing waves of pain through her head. She shielded her eyes with her hand and fumbled with the shade.

  “Wait a moment, please.” She scrambled on the floor for her dressing gown. “Just one moment. Mug? Where are you?”

  “Mr. Mug left earlier,” replied Kervis. “It’s nearly two o’clock.”

  “What?” Meralda whirled, looking for her clock, remembering too late she wasn’t at home, wasn’t in Tirlin at all. “Two o’clock?”

  “Mr. Mug said to let you sleep,” said Tervis. “These are really good donuts.”

  Meralda sped about her cabin, selecting and rejecting garments, finally wrapping a scarf about her hair and donning her new ceremonial Mage’s robes from a bag in the closet. She opened the door, blinking at the light in the hall, and waved the Bellringers inside.

  “The coffee smells wonderful.” Her stomach growled, and she reached for one of the three donuts left on the silver tray Tervis handed her.

  “They’re as good as the ones back home.” Tervis grinned.

  Kervis busied himself pouring Meralda a cup of coffee from a silver pot. He held it up to her, his wide face touched with concern.

  “Mage Ovis? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She swapped her half-eaten donut for the steaming hot cup of black coffee. “A touch of airsickness, perhaps.”

  “The galley has peppermint tea,” said Tervis. “They say it helps.”

  Meralda sipped her coffee and closed her eyes. The hot liquid tasted just as it did when brewed by the Palace kitchen, and she smiled at the familiar flavor.

  “Thank you both.” She opened her eyes. “You say Mug left earlier?”

  The Bellringers nodded, their movements and expressions identical. “He said something about a game of cards,” Kervis said.

  Meralda groaned. She had a disturbing vision of a scandal involving Mug, gambling, and disgruntled crew members. She found her chair and sank into it. Her head still pounded, but the coffee seemed to be easing the pain a bit.

  She listened to the airship for a moment and heard the faint whine of the fans.

  “Any trouble with the coils during their use this morning?” she asked.

  “None,” said the twins, together. “Mr. Mug said to tell you they aren’t showing any problems.” Kervis lowered his voice to a whisper. “He also said Tower needed to speak with you, after you were rested.”

  Meralda held her cup close, letting the heat and aroma bathe her face. “Thank you both,” she said. “No sightings of any sea creatures?”

  “None,” they replied. “We’ve had spyglasses on the water all morning. Haven’t seen a thing.”

  “Good. Thank you. I should get dressed.”

  The Bellringers nodded and made for the door.

  “Thank you for my breakfast. And could you please find Mug? Keep an eye on him, and if you see a riot about to break out, bring him bodily back here.”

  “Yes ma’am.” Kervis grinned as he closed Meralda’s door.

  Meralda finished
her coffee and then slumped down against her desk, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t see her wild, tangled hair reflected in Goboy’s Glass. “I should tap the glass and call on Tower,” she muttered. “No. I’m going to bathe. Perhaps a good hot bath and some lunch will help drive this awful headache away.”

  She stood, the motion leaving her briefly light-headed, and then she made her way to her cabin’s tiny water closet and its even tinier tub, which Mug had compared, not unreasonably, to a hat box. Meralda wasn’t too concerned about its size, especially since it was a luxury not afforded to every passenger on the Intrepid.

  She closed the water closet door behind her.

  On her desk, the silver plate bearing two whole donuts and a half-eaten third one shimmered briefly. When the shimmering faded, the plate remained, but was filled with a chicken leg, a scoop of mashed potatoes, a heap of steaming green beans, and a dollop of bright yellow creamed corn, topped with a melting pat of fresh-churned butter.

  A pair of ragged shadows fell from two corners of the ceiling, becoming enormous crows before they landed, flapping and stepping, on either side of the steaming plate of food.

  As I surmised, said one.

  Aye, said the other. Should we tell her? What would Master have us do?

  We say nothing, said the first. She must find her own truth.

  That way is fraught with peril. She may not survive it.

  If she be worthy, she will prevail. The crow flapped his folded wings in a corvine shrug and pecked at the corn.

  By the time Meralda emerged from her bath, the corn was gone, and so were the crows.

  “Bless you, Bellringers,” she said as she seated herself, unwrapped the fork and spoon from the napkin, and began to eat. She did notice that one area of the plate was suspiciously empty, but considering she missed the normal meal service she felt lucky to have anything at all.

  Later, while finishing the last of the coffee, Meralda selected a white blouse trimmed with lace ruffles, a narrow black skirt and her shiny new Fleet Street boots, which hadn’t seen the outside of the box since she’d brought them home last spring.

  Her head was nearly clear by the time she seated herself and chose a hat for the day. She decided on her cheery white and red Phendelit day hat, with its splash of lacy trim. A knock sounded at her door, interrupting her dressing.