by Dawn Dagger
“What’s in your hand?” He asked, turning his attention to her clasped palms. She looked down, only to realize she was still carrying the large, silver scales.
“Oh.” She displayed them to him.
“These would make a fine necklace, doncha think?” He gave her a near childish smile. She shrugged. Would they? Braxton called for the men to come eat, and they began to wander toward the below decks. “I’ll show you how to make them into a necklace if you’d like.”
“Aye,” she nodded.
They settled in the dining room, eating quietly the men grumbled unthankfully for the meager amount of fish. Quinn gave all of the men a solid scolding for their mutterings, while the Captain sat quietly, his eyes distant. He ate his fill of fish, then retreated early to his cabin.
Levanine helped to clean the tables and the dishes, then retreated to the cabin herself, once the sun had set. She sat in the corner opposite of the bed, reading her book for a long while, unable to concentrate on what she was deciphering.
What had Rakifi meant? Had she made things worse by destroying the runes? She couldn’t have, could she? She didn’t know, and all the wonderings gave her a headache.
So, Levanine changed into a silk shirt, discarded her trousers and boots, crawled into the Captain’s bed, and hummed herself to sleep.
Chapter 17
Levanine’s eyes flew open as the world rocked violently, tossing her in the bed. “Cap’n?” She whispered urgently, sitting up. Her eyes flickered down and she saw two foggy pockets of moonlight glinting on his face. The boat trembled as her breath passed through her lips wordlessly.
Captain Guy slowly unwrapped himself from the blankets and crawled out of the bed. Levanine sat up, tilting her head in confusion. The Captain pulled on his shirt and a black, leather vest, then slipped on his tricorn hat. He grabbed his gleaming broadsword from above the cabin door.
“Stay here.” He mumbled, grabbing the knob. The Captain pulled open the door and a thin, unfolding mist rolled in. It hugged the ground and was an eerie green color. It was similar to the mists around the Black Sand Island. Levanine wrinkled her nose in disgust as a stench filled the cabin.
Captain Guy tilted his hat down and stepped out of the cabin, grumbling. Levanine crept out of bed and slipped into a pair of leather boots next to the headboard. She tiptoed to the door and peeked out, curiosity and fear making her tremble.
It was dark out on the ship. The three moons were obscured by thick clouds and the lanterns swayed ghostly on the deck. Dark figures drifted across the ship, whispering to one another. Levanine slipped out and shut the door to the cabin behind her. The unfurled sails whipped back and forth without purpose or reason, and the red emblem of the Royalty seemed all too much like blood. There wasn’t a star in the sky. The sea and the sky where both an inky black. The air smelled of death, and a thick, sickly green mist began to whisper around her ankles.
Levanine wound through the men milling about restlessly. The air was thick with silence-- like a damp cloth was muffling even their breath. It almost seemed a sin to speak as a sense of impending doom swept over the ship. What was wrong?
“Quinn!” Levanine barely dared to whisper, trotting across the deck toward him. Quinn turned, his features troubled.
“I knew we should have turned sooner…” He mumbled to himself.
“What’s going on?” Levanine questioned as the boat jolted.
“I’m not sure, but I hope I’m not right.”
Levanine couldn’t tell if anxiety or the stench was twisting her stomach up, but she felt sick. A grinding sound came up from the bottom of the ship, a vibration that rumbled through the soles of their heels to the tops of their heads. Levanine jumped and stared at Quinn in horror. His eyes matched hers.
The boat rocked harder and the water around it began to ripple. The men went silent, unsheathing their swords. Captain Guy marched over, swinging his sword and scowling. “Levanine!” He hissed. “I told you to stay in the cabin!”
Quinn leaned over to Guy, grabbing his arm and pulling him close. “Maybe it will leave us alone,” he whispered to him. The fog had gathered so thickly now that they were silhouettes, although they were just feet from her.
Off to her side, something splashed loudly. She stared at the black sea as something slid out of it slowly in an arch, then disappeared back underneath the surface of the water. It was not beautiful like a whale. It was horrifying.
The Captain cursed loudly as Quinn drew his sword, then the Captain marched up onto the helm. “Ready your weapons!” He called loudly, and movement rippled along the ship, along with the sound of metal scraping against metal.
Levanine watched green scales slide up out of the water, only to vanish in a moment. Her lungs tightened and her heart thundered. It was one of the sea monsters. It had to be.
The air was cut with a sudden woosh and the boat jerked, knocking Levanine off of her feet. Glass shattered and men cried out. Then the boat began to tremble.
Levanine scuttled backwards from the massive shape of a serpent body as it twisted and tightened around the Red Running Royalty. The scales were a pale green, each as large as her hand.
“It’s the sea serpent!” Some of the men cried in terror.
“Don’t touch it!” Captain Guy shouted to the men who were getting to their feet. “DO NOT TOUCH IT!”
Levanine stumbled away from the creature, attempting to stand. They were going to die. The scales shifted, a glimmering wave rippling along its body. The ship shook, almost matching her own tremors. She gripped her dagger tightly in her fist, feeling all too small and helpless.
“Rakifi!” The Captain cried. “Move your damn arms and use those runes to hold that thing in place!!”
Rakifi rushed forward and placed himself in front of the creature, raising his hands. He bit his lip, his eyes bright with hesitation for a moment, then suddenly pulled a vial from his pocket and drank a bright purple liquid. He closed his eyes and began waving his arms.
The men paced, holding their swords tightly. Levanine did not ask Quinn if they were going to die. She knew the answer.
A wave suddenly crashed upon their heads, once again sweeping Levanine off of her feet. She gasped as the salt-water ran off of her face and she dashed it from her eyes. She stood and stared in horror at the serpent's head that stared down at them with malice. Its slitted, yellow eyes glowed with embers from Ursona. Rakifi was on his feet again, waving his arms.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Canons suddenly exploded around her, shooting off stars of light and sending smoke billowing into the air. Levanine screamed and covered her ears, falling down again as the boat shook with the force of the weapons.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
There was a great splashing noise, and the air filled with smoke, so thick that Levanine could not see the other men as it mingled with the green fog. The boat stopped rattling for a moment. Everyone held their breath as the mist and smoke began to clear, hoping that they had succeeded in driving off the beast.
A hissing sounded high in the air above them, then the green tip of its tail lashed out, striking the boat, sending men and cannons flying off into the black ocean.
“Rakifi, dammit, hurry up!” Guy bellowed. “Ska! Grab your bow! Aim for the eyes!” Levanine looked up to see the man in the crow’s nest disappear momentarily while his bird flapped and called frantically.
A long, forked tongue flicked out of its mouth, hissing at the small people below, and Levanine felt her chest seize up. It tightened its body again and the men shrieked as the ship started to splinter.
Levanine stared at the scales of the serpent. As the water oozed off, it smoked against the boards of the ship. It’s scales weren’t only impenetrable, they were poisonous!
Levanine tried to force herself to breathe. No, they couldn’t die! They couldn’t! She hadn’t yet been free. She hadn’t made it to Avondella, she hadn’t learned how to be a pirate, she hadn’t found any t
reasure or battled any storm or fought side-by-side with Quinn and Rakifi and Silva. No, this couldn’t possibly be the end.
But it was, wasn’t it?
Glowing figures appeared suddenly in the air and exploded against the side of the serpent’s side, who’s tongue froze mid-hiss. Rakifi’s body strained and the Captain waved his sword, “NOW SKA!”
The man began to rain arrows toward the glowing eyes of the beast, but they missed its half closed eyes, melting against its putrid scales. The boat tremoured, and Rakifi’s frail figure was thrown to the ground. The boat let out a groan that sounded like the end of the world, and splinters shot into the air the boat began to give way. There was a great cracking and Levanine suddenly felt herself sliding down the boards of the ship as the boat began to fold!
Ska was thrown from the crow’s nest with a scream.
Levanine cried out and clawed at the boards, trying to find a hold as the men cried out. She found her footing and began to run in a half-crawling crouch toward the main mast, the only sound in her head the thundering of her heart.
They were all going to die; it was inevitable. At least she would not die without a fight.
Beside the tilting mast was Quinn’s fallen sword. She had not attempted to climb the mess of ropes with any more weight than herself, but she did not have time to think about that. She shoved the sword down the back of her shirt and began to climb the ropes quickly. Her muscles shrieked as she launched herself upwards.
Levanine was not sure what she was doing, or thinking. She was not sure of anything, except that she was going to reach the top of the mast.
She closed her eyes tightly as she climbed, trying not to think of how far below the sea was. She hated heights. Oh, how she despised heights. She was one with the sea, not the sky. They were two different things.
She was almost to the top, where the serpent was hissing furiously at Ska’s bird, who was screaming. The mast was tilting precariously now. She was going to die.
Levanine was not snatched from the ropes as she had been by the wind before, no, instead she held tight, and she tumbled into the crow’s nest with a cry as the boat rocked again. The creature seemed to be moving in slow motion, as if straining against something invisible. Its head swung forward, then moved back in a long circle, and Levanine could see the scar of a sword around the fleshy tissue under its eye.
She readied Quinn’s sword, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The arrows had all emptied out onto the body of the serpent below, where the men were burning against its scales. The boat was closing as if it were a clam.
Levanine screamed as the suddenly mast twisted and fell, tossing her. She dropped the sword, gripping the sides of the crow’s nest, hanging precariously. Her feet dangled over a sea of green mist. Her scream was silenced as the serpent stared at her, tensing, poising itself for the kill.
Beside her, a lantern hung, its flame flickering, but somehow not yet stifled. She suddenly felt wild with insanity. Either way she would surely die. Levanine let out the throat shredding howl of a person who knew who Death was, then grabbed the swinging lantern with one hand. Her fingers slipped against the crow’s nest. She threw the lantern as hard as she could toward its hateful eye, losing hold. She was falling.
The serpent let out a scream and began to toss its head. It lashed its tail in pain, uncoiling itself from the ship as Levanine fell down far, far below. She did not scream; the breath had been dashed from her lungs, preventing her from doing so.
Then pain pulled apart her body and everything went black, her lungs bursting.
Death consumed her.
Chapter 18
Captain Guy heard a gagging and coughing to his right. He forced his heavy eyes to open, his own lungs spazzing for air. Only his left eye would obey his command- the other was unable to as he was lying face down in the sand.
His gaze was unfocused. He tried to pull his arms close to himself to push himself up, but his stomach twisted. He wretched, vomiting salt water and bile. He coughed and spat until he finally could breathe.
He was shaking. He was sore. He couldn’t remember what happened or how he had gotten there on the beach in the first place. The lapping of waves soothed some part of him. They weren’t broken- they were constant and smooth. Wherever he was, the beach sloped nicely into the ocean- there weren’t craggy rocks obstructing their path.
Guy forced himself to crawl up the beach, toward the gasping and choking noises. He knew the figure sprawled out on the sand. “Quinn!” He croaked, trying to stand up. His legs failed him and he collapsed into the sand.
Quinn looked up, his face dark red. He reached a shaking hand toward Guy. “You’re okay.” He sighed in relief, his voice hoarse.
Guy forced himself to sit up, coughing violently again. His head was pounding and the sun sparked in his eyes. “What happened?” He whispered.
“We were attacked.” Quinn made no attempt to sit up, instead rolling over to stare up at the burning sun.
“Where were we headed?” Quinn’s refusal to tell him everything was making him angry.
“Far, far away.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead.
“From?”
Quinn’s green eyes met his and Guy felt his stomach twist again. He gasped softly and clutched the sides of his head. “No, no, no, no, no.” He mumbled, visions of blood and death and shadows clouding into his brain. Pain built in his chest. It was all gone.
Everything.
Everything was gone.
Guy woke up with a gasp, his hands clawing at the covers. He wiped the sweat from his face and let out a low growl. Cursed nightmares. He examined his surroundings in the dark hut. A single pathetic flame flickered on cluttered table. Guy climbed out of the weakly built cot and slogged his way through the papers and bottles on the hard packed ground.
He pushed out of the board that served as a door and began winding down one of the many paths on the cliff-strewn beach front. The sky was blue-grey that was overshadowed by clouds and quickly falling into twilight. The shacks along the paths had lights flickering in them, and from the most well-kept and largest of the buildings came a rowdy hollar and a bout of singing.
Captain Guy traversed to an unimpressive, unmarked building, then entered. He followed the warm candlelight down the hall past the wooden, boxed off rooms keeping his steps quiet and slow. The hut smelled of clove and death, and besides his hushed footsteps and the crackling candle came only the moans of hurting sailors. In the last room laid a small cot, along with a stand holding a candle and a basin of water.
A buxom, strong looking woman sat next to the cot. She gently wiped the sweat off of the brown-haired girl lying on the cot. “How is she?” Captain Guy asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway.
“She ain’t dead.” The woman shrugged.
“How is she doing?” He repeated, prickling.
“Better.” The woman lifted the cloth and turned it. “She has bruised ribs, broken bones, an’ now a fever.” She turned to look at Guy. “What ‘appened to ‘er? To the Red Running?”
“The sea serpent.” The woman’s red brows raised. “I am not sure exactly what she did,” he nodded to the girl, “but she did it.”
The woman gave an appreciative nod. “That’ll be a story.”
“Yes. It will.”
Levanine twitched and sighed suddenly. He tensed, watching her for any signs of consciousness. Her skin was a motley combination of white, purple, and brown. She was limp and breathing laboriously. Levanine almost had the appearance of the monsters Eldred told tales of- ones covered in bandages that rose from golden tombs to control men.
“Captain, she is not waking soon. Go and get a new ship. You know how Bartender is.”
Guy supposed he probably should. He needed a new ship and another dispensable crew, as well as supplies. Quinn was already down in the bar, but, knowing him, he most likely started the singing. Guy glanced one last time at Levanine.
“Let me know if anything changes, Tifo.” He leaned down to plant a kiss on her ruddy cheek, but she put a hand on his chest and pushed back.
“Just go, Captain.”
Guy nodded, then left quietly, not bothering to check on any of the other men. If they survived, they survived. As he pushed into the salty twilight air, he realized the rowdy singing had gone silent.
He knew he needed to meet up with Quinn and Rakifi. A week on Black Flag Isle, and they were no closer to leaving than they had been when they first washed up. Guy was impatient. He wanted to leave already.
Guy tilted his hat lower over his face and stepped into the brightly lit tavern. Roughly hewn logs and boards held up the low roof, stung with garlic and onions, as well as crude chandeliers. Tables were scattered around the large room and nearly every stool was occupied. Candles provided light to each of the tables, and some torches flickered on the posts. Rats squeaked and scuttled over the uneven boards, dodging kicks and swiping up the scraps that fell. Barrels of ale littered the room, and thin women with long hair and shining lips sat on the barrels in alluring poses, wearing an enticing apparel that were both too tight and too low in choice places. The whole damned place smelled sharply of ale and garlic and sweat.
On the edges of the room, men babbled and threatened and made deals and winked eyes, but in the center Quinn was kneeling on a table, a motley group of men surrounding him, listening intently as he told some tale that was no doubt true, with just a sprinkle of exaggeration.
Rakifi sat at the bar, drinking slowly from a wooden mug. He glanced at Guy as he braced his forearms on the top of the counter, but did not speak. The bartender came over and looked him up and down, an eyebrow raised. “I need a ship.” Guy said, looking sideways as a girl tried to sashay up to him. He gave her a quick glare and fluttered his hand at her. She huffed and turned away, then he turned his attention back to the bar keeper.
Bartender was the informant and sort of owner of the island of Black Flag Isle, a small island surrounded by rough waves and jagged rocks that served as a catch all spot for pirates and those attacked by the sea serpent. In recent years, as the waves had begun to change course, less ships landed on the small island.