by Dean Cadman
“Nay, son, I’ve been helpin’ t’ navigate us through these Kurnn Straights, I ’ave. Nasty stretch o’ water it is. Claimed more men over the years than the pox, it has.”
“I wasn’t even aware that we’d reached the Kurnn Straights yet. Going by how Captain Waylon described it, I was expecting far worse conditions than this,” Lusam replied.
“Aye, son, and you’d be right. This ain’t normal I tell ya… it just ain’t. I ain’t never seen it so calm ’ere in me life. I’ve seen waves here as big as three houses on top o’ one another, especially at this time ’o year. And if ya don’t know how t’ navigate ’round ’ere, you’re good as dead. Ya see, son, it ain’t just the water ya ’ave t’ worry about ’ere. It also be the jagged rocks hidden ten o’ twenty feet under the surface and if ya don’t know where they are, ya gonna be in big trouble. One o’ those giant waves I tells ya about picks ya up, see, and where you expect to find water on t’ other side, there be only death waiting for ya, in the form of those sharp rocks.”
“How did you learn to navigate around here if it’s so dangerous?” Neala asked.
Lamar chuckled to himself. “Well, girl, if ya’d asked me that a week ago I couldn’t ’ave rightly told ya, but me melon seems t’ be sortin’ itself out a bit now and I’ve started t’ remember a lot more—thanks t’ ya man ’ere,” he said, nodding towards Lusam. “As a boy, I lived in a fishing village not far from ’ere, and we used t’ fish these ’ere waters, so we had t’ learn from a young age how t’ navigate ’em. A couple ’o times a year, when the tide be at its lowest, it’s possible t’ see those dastardly rocks poking out o’ the ocean. Dragon’s teeth, we used t’ calls em, on the account of ’em looking like giant sharp teeth, ready t’ eat any ship foolish enough to try an’ sail over ’em.”
Lusam was about to ask Lamar how well he knew Monmeriath isle, but Captain Waylon’s irritated voice suddenly interrupted their conversation.
“Are ya planning on standing out there all day?”
“Sorry, Capt’n,” Lamar said, holding open the door so Lusam and Neala could go inside first. Captain Waylon gave them all a stern look but said no more about being kept waiting. He had a sea chart unfurled on his desk and a small round pebble marking the position of Monmeriath Isle. He waited patiently until Lusam, Neala and Lamar took a seat opposite him, then pointed towards the pebble marker on his chart.
“You know these waters far better than I, Lamar, so where should I anchor the Pelorus?”
“Well, Capt’n, it be safe t’ anchor off either the east o’ west point o’ the island, but stay well clear o’ the north and south sides. If we do needs t’ move ’cause o’ the wind, we gotta take a wide berth of at least a mile t’ the north or south, otherwise, the hidden rocks will tear open the belly of the ship.”
“Then seeing as we’re approaching from the west, we might as well anchor at this side of the island,” Captain Waylon said, then he turned to look at Lusam. “How much time do you think you’ll need to spend on the island? The weather is good for now but it could turn bad at any moment. The less time we spend in these waters, the better.”
Lusam hadn’t really given it much thought, but now that he did, he realised that it might actually be a problem. If he did manage to locate and read a Guardian book inside the temple of Lohlaen, he had no idea how long it would render him unconscious. With each successive Guardian book that he’d read, he had taken more and more time to recover and regain consciousness afterwards. This time he could potentially be incapacitated for at least a day or two, but there was simply no way of knowing for certain how long it would be until he actually woke up again. And that, of course, was if he woke up at all. He shuddered at the thought and tried to shake it from his mind. He had to have faith that he would survive the process, and then be able to help his friends at The Rift. After all, why would Aysha have sent him to read the Guardian book, if she didn’t think that he would survive it?
The problem was that no matter how long it took him to regain consciousness, he would be alone, and therefore the ship would have to wait for him to return once he had recovered. Aysha had already told him that Neala could not enter the ‘hidden realm’, and so he had to assume that no one else could either. Not that he wished to reveal such secrets to anyone else anyway.
“Lusam?” Captain Waylon prompted, still waiting for a reply.
“Oh… sorry, Captain. I was just thinking about your question, and if I’m honest, I don’t really know how long I’ll be on Monmeriath. But whatever happens, don’t send anyone after me. If the weather turns bad whilst I’m gone, feel free to leave me alone on the island. I can easily levitate myself back to land and meet up with you later. The most important thing is the safety of the ship, and everyone onboard.”
Captain Waylon nodded slowly. “If we are forced to leave ya, lad, we’ll drop anchor at the first sheltered bay we come across and wait for ya there. But for right now, I best let Lamar get back to the helmsman before he runs my ship aground on those hidden rocks.”
“Aye, Capt’n,” Lamar replied, turning on his heels and disappearing through the doorway with a spring in his step of someone half his age. Lusam smiled to himself at the thought of Lamar as a small boy. He wondered how different the world must have been back then, and promised himself that if he survived everything to come, he would return one day to speak with Lamar in greater detail about it. And maybe with the information he gained from this Guardian book, he might be able to repair Lamar’s mind to a greater degree than he had already done. After all, it was the least he could do for someone who may very well be responsible for saving the entire world.
Lusam and Neala stood on the prow of the ship watching the island steadily grow on the distant horizon. As the Pelorus rode high over a wave the island became visible, only to vanish again a moment later when the ship dipped into the trough behind. Fleeting, tantalizing glimpses of the elusive island were all they could see for what felt like an eternity as the ship fought against the strong currents of the Kurnn Straights.
Captain Waylon came to stand by their side and produced a strange looking object from his jacket pocket. It appeared to be made of copper or brass, and when he pulled on the ends of it, it extended into a long tube about a foot long. Then he placed it to his right eye and peered through it towards the distant island.
“What’s that?” Lusam asked curiously, nodding towards the strange looking device.
“This? Oh… it’s from Edrana. They call it a spyglass. It makes things appear closer than they actually are. Clever people those Edranians. What they don’t know about sailing the world’s oceans isn’t worth knowing, I can tell ya. I was just using it to check for any signs of waves breaking over hidden rocks under the surface. I’m sure Lamar knows what he’s doing, but I always get nervous when I take my ship into uncharted waters.”
“May I?” Lusam asked, holding out his hand hopefully. Captain Waylon hesitated a moment before handing it over to him.
“Just don’t drop it overboard. It cost me a small fortune and I’ve no plans to be heading that far south again anytime soon,” he said, finally relinquishing his grip on it.
“I’ll try not to,” Lusam replied, grinning at him. He placed it to his eye like he had seen the Captain do. For a moment he found it slightly disorientating because all he could see were waves coming in and out of focus, but eventually, he managed to locate the island through the strange device. It looked much closer than it had before and he could clearly make out the steep white cliffs, with the sea pounding at their base. As the ship rode higher on the waves, he could see further onto the island. There were no trees or hills, only a small rocky plain covered in sparse grass. As the ship rose over a particularly high wave, he found that he could even see the far end of the island, and the sea beyond. His heart suddenly lurched in his chest.
“Oh, no!” he gasped, desperately searching the surface of the island once more.
“What’s up?” Neala asked, straini
ng her eyes to see what he might be looking at.
“This can’t be the right island, there’s nothing there. Nothing at all…” Lusam replied, still scouring the small desolate island for a temple that simply wasn’t there.
“LAMAR!” Captain Waylon bellowed, almost causing Lusam to do the very thing he’d warned him not do; drop the spyglass overboard.
“Aye, Capt’n,” Lamar said, almost skidding to halt in front of him.
“It appears you’ve brought us to the wrong island, Lamar,” the Captain said, reclaiming his spyglass from Lusam.
“Beggin’ y’ pardon, sir, but this be Monmeriath Isle, like I said,” Lamar replied.
“But it can’t be, there’s no temple here. Where is Lohlaen? You said Lohlaen was on Monmeriath Isle,” Lusam said, as the panic began to rise within him.
“Aye, that be right, son. Lohlaen was ’ere once, but now it be nothing more than a story. Some say the ghosts of the old monks still haunt Monmeriath Isle, but I says it’s just the wind and the sailor’s rum that caused those stories.”
Lusam laughed mirthlessly. He’d just spent the last three weeks getting here, only to find that what he was looking for had already long since vanished—if it had ever been there at all. He couldn’t help wondering how many lives might have already been lost at The Rift, whilst he and Neala chased after nothing more than the ghost stories of a crazy old man.
“So, am I to turn the ship around?” the Captain asked, looking between Lusam and Neala.
“No, not yet, Captain,” Neala said, then she turned to speak with Lusam. “Can I talk to you for a moment? In private.” Lusam’s mind was in turmoil at what had just happened, but he understood what Neala meant by ‘private’. They moved away from the ship’s rail, leaving the Captain and Lamar discussing something between themselves. Lusam then erected a soundproof barrier around them both before nodding to let Neala know it was safe to speak.
“It might not be as bad as it first appears,” Neala said, without preamble.
“Lohlaen isn’t there, Neala—I don’t see how it can get much worse than that.”
“Maybe,” Neala replied, cryptically.
Lusam snorted and shook his head. “There’s no ‘maybe’ about it, there’s nothing there.”
“Nothing that we can see… ” Neala said, waiting for Lusam to catch on. He simply gave her a blank look as if she had suddenly gone crazy. She sighed loudly. “Think about, Lusam. Where did you find the other Guardian books?”
Lusam shook his head again and was about to name the various temples and cities where he had discovered the books, when he suddenly realised what she actually meant. “Deep underground… in a basement,” he gasped, hope suddenly rekindling within him. He whooped loudly and pulled her into his arms, lifting her off her feet and spinning around. “You’re a genius, Neala,” he said, kissing her gently on the lips, before placing her unsteadily back on the ship’s deck.
“Well, I don’t know about that, but I think it’s at least worth a look before we leave,” she replied, grinning at him.
“Absolutely,” he agreed.
“Good, then we better tell the Captain that we still want to visit the island.”
“What do you mean ‘we’? I thought we had already discussed this, Neala. You know what Aysha said—you can’t come with me.”
“No… you told me that she said I couldn’t enter the ‘hidden realm’. Well, I’m not going to. I’m simply going to visit the island and… have a look around,” Neala replied. It took Lusam all but a moment to realise her real motives for wanting to visit Monmeriath, and he couldn’t help smiling to himself. He knew that the instincts and habits of her old life as a thief were never far from the surface, and if he was honest, it was those traits that had led them both to where they were today. Without her insatiable appetite to discover hidden treasure, they would never have discovered the secret Guardian book room in Helveel. And if that had been the case, he would not be as powerful as he was right now, and Aamon would have already begun to destroy the entire world. All in all, he found it hard to criticise her for it, but he still decided to have some fun at her expense.
“No, you mean that you want to visit the island and poke around an ancient ruin, just in case you can find something of value there,” he said, teasing her. She was about to protest but Lusam held up his hand. “I’ll tell you what, Neala, if Lamar can verify that other people have safely visited the island in the past, you can come with me—but on one condition.”
“What?” she asked, a little too quickly. She had obviously expected him to argue with her much more over the issue.
“That you don’t touch anything at all until after I’ve checked the entire area first.”
“Deal,” she said, with a huge smile.
“No… it’s only a deal if Lamar says that it’s safe to be on the island,” Lusam said, smiling back at her. She nodded and looked longingly towards the approaching island.
Fortunately for Neala, Lamar did indeed verify that it was safe to visit the island. He said that he had even spent several nights there himself as a child with his Grandfather, whilst waiting out bad weather that had caught them unawares. Also, apparently, it wasn’t uncommon for fishermen to spend a few nights on the island during the summer months, whilst they fished the rich surrounding waters by day in their small fishing boats. Even though Lamar’s words were enough for Lusam to feel confident in allowing Neala to join him, he still decided that he would return her to the ship before entering any basement or other secret entrances that he found. That way he’d know for certain that she was safe whilst he read the Guardian book, instead of poking around somewhere for hidden treasure where she might get hurt, or even worse, killed.
But he decided that it was best to let her have some fun first—before he informed her.
Chapter Nineteen
Even though Lamar had assured Captain Waylon that it was safe to approach the island from the west, he still chose to proceed with caution. Lusam even created a magical barrier around the ship’s hull—just in case he was mistaken—but didn’t tell anyone about it because he didn’t want to cause any insult to Lamar.
The white rocky cliffs rose vertically from the ocean for over thirty feet and were topped by a covering of sparse vegetation. Large rocks littered the base of the cliffs, causing the waves to break over them almost constantly. It looked like an extremely dangerous place to approach, even in a small fishing boat like the ones Lamar had described.
At first, Lusam couldn’t see any natural way of gaining access to the island, but as Lamar guided the ship into position to drop anchor, he noticed that someone had carved a series of rudimentary steps into the cliff face. There were also several metal rings that had been attached to the rocks, no doubt used to secure the small fishing vessels that frequented these waters in the summer months. None of which really concerned Lusam, as he intended to levitate himself and Neala across to the island anyway.
A few minutes later the Pelorus was securely anchored off the western tip of the island, and the crewmen were already busy making their preparations for a hasty retreat—should one become necessary later. Before leaving the ship, Lusam decided to have a quick word with Lamar about Monmeriath, or more precisely, about the ancient temple, Lohlaen. He asked him if he knew any stories regarding the temple’s supposed location on the island or any other information which might prove useful—but unfortunately, he didn’t. He said that everything he knew about Lohlaen, he had learned from his Grandfather, and it was little more than ghost stories or fisherman’s tales regarding the island. Lusam thanked him all the same, then headed back towards the prow of the ship where he found Captain Waylon still talking with Neala.
“So, you’re ready to go then?” Captain Waylon asked when he saw Lusam approach.
“I guess so,” Lusam said, seeing Neala nod in reply.
“I’ll keep the ship ’ere for as long as I can, lad, but if the weather takes a turn for the worse, I’ll have to move
her. And if it looks like it’s going to get really bad, I’ll meet ya in the first sheltered bay around the headland to the north. At the moment the wind is coming from the east, so we’re pretty much sheltered here on the western side o’ the island. But keep an eye on it, because it can change quickly at this time o’ year. It looks rather exposed on that island, so I doubt you’ll have much trouble monitoring the wind direction. If I feel that we do have to move the ship, I’ll have one o’ the men blow a horn a few times. With a bit o’ luck it might give you enough time to make it back to the ship before we have to leave. But just in case it doesn’t, I wish ya the best o’ luck in finding whatever it is you’re looking for here,” Captain Waylon said, offering his hand to Lusam.
“Thank you, Captain,” Lusam replied, shaking his hand. He then placed an arm around Neala, more to make her feel secure than any other reason, then levitated her and himself off the ship’s deck. Neala squealed and grabbed hold of his arm tightly.
“You could have given me some warning,” she said, burying her head in his chest.
“Sorry,” Lusam replied unconvincingly, as he levitated them both across the open water towards the island. When they emerged from the protection of the cliffs it became immediately apparent that the Captain hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d warned them about being exposed to the elements on the island. The wind battered at them both and tore furiously at their clothing. Neala let out another high pitched squeal and tightened her grip even more on Lusam’s arm, so much so, that it was actually quite painful. He quickly levitated them both down to the ground below, making sure he was well away from the cliff edge first. He had hoped to get a good view of the island from his elevated position, but the strong wind had brought tears to his eyes making it difficult to see very much at all.
Even when they had their feet safely back on the ground, it still took Neala several seconds to let go of his arm again. Lusam squinted through the wind, trying to make out any sign of an ancient temple ruin, but all he could see was a boulder-strewn wasteland. Sharp jagged rocks of all shapes and sizes littered the ground for as far as he could see. There were no trees, bushes or other vegetation growing on the island. Only a sparse covering of hardy grass had claimed Monmeriath as its home, and even that only survived where it had found a sheltered nook or cranny to take root. Everything else had seemingly been swept away by the harsh weather, just as it was still trying to do with them.