The Deepest Ocean (Eden Series)

by Marian Perera

  The sinews in his back turned into taut cords held over flames, but her body slid free of the shark’s teeth with a wet ripping sound. He could only hope that was her suit rather than her flesh tearing away. There was a faint shriek of iron on enamel that made his own teeth hurt in sympathy, and then the chains came away too. Thank the Unity. He laid her body down in the bottom of the boat. If the links had snagged on the shark’s teeth, he didn’t know what he would have done.

  The shark sank back into the water as though it could no longer support its own weight. Darok felt just as exhausted, but the sight of Yerena made him forget that. Her eyes were closed, and she wasn’t breathing. Water ran from her nostrils and the corner of her mouth.

  The weight of the iron wrapping her made the boat sink dangerously low, but Alyster was already ordering the men to row, to get them away from the galleys. Darok didn’t bother unwinding the chains around Yerena. He had to make her start breathing first.

  As the boat backed water, he turned her over to drain her mouth and nose. There was enough water in the bottom of the boat already that her hair floated around her when she lay on her back. He cupped one hand beneath her chin and covered her mouth with his, breathing out deeply. You’d better not be dead, Yerena, not after I went to that much trouble.

  He exhaled again and again, until he felt light-headed. When he finally raised his head to clear it, he couldn’t be certain whether she was breathing on her own or whether he had imagined her chest move.

  Then she coughed, and it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

  Her eyes opened as she kept coughing, spitting up water. Darok almost laughed aloud. He pulled her to a sitting position, chains clanking, and she closed a hand around his arm. She was still gasping too hard to speak, but the look in her eyes told him more than enough—and there were grins of relief from the men in the boat as well.

  Though Alyster didn’t smile. He was at the other end of the boat, watching something that moved through the water towards them, and Darok turned his head to see a fin, smaller than that of Yerena’s shark, and a different shape. The galleys were moving to the west under full sail for some reason, but that left the sea clear for other predators.

  He started to say Hit it with an oar, before he saw the gloved hand gripping the dorsal fin. As the shark veered sharply, the man let go of it and caught the side of the boat, holding on as he treaded water. He wore a grey watersuit and a glass mask, but when he pushed the mask down, his tattoo was visible, a black hammer surrounding his left eye. Yerena sat up straight.

  “Yerena Fin Caller.” The man spoke as if they were meeting in a teahouse on Orchid Lane.

  “Ko—” She coughed again, and her fingers tightened on Darok’s arm. “Kovir Sea Hammer,” she said, more steadily.

  “Where the hell did you come from?” Darok said, more harshly than he had intended.

  Kovir Sea Hammer, of course, looked much as Yerena had done when Darok had first spoken to her, direct and polite and indifferent. “I was assigned to guide two ships of the Guardian Fleet into the Iron Ocean to provide you with any help you might need.”

  “Two ships…” Darok glanced at the horizon and saw them. Lagging behind the swift streamlined hammerhead, but now within sight, and he knew why the battlehorns had sounded on the Turean galleys. Their lookouts had spotted the ships first. Slowly they drew closer, flying their circle flags, decks crowded with sailors in Denalait uniforms, and the larger of the two ships sported twenty sails on which twenty hawks were painted in black, their wings spread.

  Hawk Royal.

  It was over.

  Yerena drifted out of sleep, one sense after another coming to life. A hammock rocked slowly around her, and somewhere above, the rhythmic thuds of booted feet crossed a deck. The place smelled of lye-scrubbed boards and crushed herbs.

  Her eyes blinked open. She had been hauled aboard Hawk Royal, unable to climb the ladder by herself, but she had passed out before her feet could touch its deck. Although she had woken periodically since then, she had always been too fevered to notice much of her surroundings. The fever was only to be expected, since there were sure to be plenty of bits of rotting meat between the shark’s teeth.

  The shark. She hadn’t understood the dream, hadn’t realized the shark would save her life. There was a lot she hadn’t understood and hadn’t done, and now it was too late. Without expecting to feel the familiar presence, she reached out.

  It felt like opening a door and letting in the first light of dawn. Startled, she let herself sink deeply into the shark’s consciousness. She knew Hawk Royal was moving, but how could the shark have kept pace for all that time? Faint stinging twinges flickered along its nerves, so it was still recovering, not yet completely well, but there was none of the raw agony that had worn it down to the point where it had stopped eating. Its belly felt full.

  Well, perhaps driving off the megalodon had raised its spirits, and sensing its satiation made her aware of how thirsty she was. She wore only bandages, but no one else was in the cabin, and despite the sheer number of bandages, it didn’t hurt too much to move.

  She raised her arms experimentally, pushing off the sweat-dampened sheet that covered her, and climbed out of the hammock before she wrapped the sheet around her. A ceramic pitcher was on a table nearby, and she poured a glass of water. She drank it in sips, partly to savor the cold taste and partly because there didn’t seem to be any clothes in the cabin, so she wasn’t in a hurry to leave.

  The door opened. Darok glanced in—straight at the empty hammock, and a startled look crossed his face before he saw her.

  “There you are.” He came in, closing the door. Yerena felt herself starting to smile, and for once she didn’t stifle it.

  “How do you feel?” He took her hand in his without waiting for an answer. “Well, you don’t have a fever any longer. Are you hungry? It’s just past noon, so there’s some of the midday meal left.”

  “I’m all right,” Yerena said, a little amused at the oncoming tide of questions and information. He was so different from anyone in Seawatch. “I take it we’re on the way home?”

  “Oh, yes. Kiti wasn’t about to go chasing the rest of the Tureans after they scattered.”

  Yerena wondered if those two warships had been held in reserve in case Darok failed or whether they had been sent to rescue any survivors. Perhaps both. “But how did she reach us so quickly? Those warships didn’t go through the strait, did they?”

  “Hell, no. Kiti isn’t as rash as I am. She went south instead, right on the heels of that false ship. Turns out the Admiralty wanted the Tureans to see through the trick and to turn their attention to the north again. That’s how Kiti made such good time. She rode an ocean current north and wasn’t challenged along the way at all. But there’s nothing left to salvage on Lastland, so we’re sailing back.”

  Yerena lowered her gaze to the table, tracing a line of woodgrain. She was relieved they were safe, but Denalay’s final secure foothold in the Iron Ocean was gone, and despite the Tureans’ losses, they had also sunk Daystrider.

  Darok’s hand tightened a little on hers, and when she looked back at him, he was leaning back relaxed in his chair. Other than the scar that twisted its way down the side of his face, he looked younger than he had at the start of their voyage.

  “There’ll be time enough to retake it,” he said. “Maybe with those new ships Lady Lisabe told us about.”

  “Did you find her?”

  “No, and that Turean bitch Jash Morender escaped. But at least we haven’t seen any giant sharks again.”

  “Do you know if it’s…” Yerena didn’t finish. No matter how dangerous the megalodon had been, it hadn’t chosen to fight that battle any more than her shark had, and most of all she regretted hurting it badly rather than giving it a quick clean end.

  “Dead?” Darok said bluntly. “Well, it’s not floating belly-up anywhere nearby, but one of the men on my boat said he saw it eat that coral-creature. Maybe t
hat made it change its mind about coming after us.”

  “I hope so.” But as she replied, she remembered what the coral-creature had said about budding, and why Seawatch was so wary of brain coral. On the other hand, maybe the wounded megalodon had retreated to the abyssal zone, diving too deep for almost anything to live. She wished she could be sure, even if it meant seeing either of those monsters again.

  “Don’t worry,” Darok said. “They’re both likely dead. Even if they’re not, we’ll be far away soon, but if I command another ship and have the good fortune to be sent back here, I’m going after the Turean flagship. And its captain’s head.”

  “After seeing that coral-creature, I’d go with you,” Yerena said. That brought a softer look to his eyes, but it reminded her of what she needed to carry out any such duties.

  She drew in a breath to steel herself. “Darok, what happened to my shark?”

  “Ah.” One brow went up. “Do you want to see it?”

  “Of course.” She tested the link again, to see how close the shark was. Why, it must be swimming right alongside Hawk Royal.

  “Wait here. I’ll get some clothes for you.”

  As soon as he was gone, she began peeling off the bandages. Her eye was no longer swollen shut, but the flesh around it felt tender and she could imagine how she looked. Still, bruises would fade in time. The scabs itching beneath her bandages were another matter, and she wanted to see how bad the scarring would be.

  Teeth marks arced across her belly like giant stitches on her skin, and a matching set of wounds was reflected on her back, but she felt like smiling again. She knew just how much pressure the powerful jaws exerted when they snapped shut; that the shark had managed to hold her without biting through her guts or liver left her both grateful and humbled.

  A weight settled across her shoulders and she sank back into the chair. The shark hadn’t just held her, it had saved her life despite its injuries, and she was already thinking of their next assignment. Though what else could she do? Seawatch would still expect her to earn her keep.

  Darok returned before she could brood any further, and while the blouse and skirt he brought clearly belonged to someone with more height and broader shoulders, they were clean and she couldn’t afford to be finicky. She struggled into them and pushed her tangled hair back. He held the door open for her.

  The men of Hawk Royal went about their work on the deck and in the rigging. A few Lastlanders and some of Daystrider’s crew were topside as well, but Yerena had no eyes for anything but the shark. She went in the direction that Darok pointed to, stumbling a little—the cut across the back of her leg was still healing—and he slipped his hand beneath her elbow, but even that barely impinged on her awareness. Only the sight of the shark filled her vision.

  It swam slowly beside the ship, and she realized Hawk Royal’s speed was deliberately held back so the shark would not fall behind, but what made her blink in disbelief was the semi-circle of boats surrounding the shark. Men rowed them, singing a song, and all around the boats were nets. Held to the boats’ outer gunwales to form a single unbroken sheet, they kept back anything which might dart in to attack.

  Calm and unafraid, the shark pressed close to the surface, sensing her presence. Its size dwarfed any of the rowboats, but the sailors were clearly used to it and they didn’t react. Sunlight on the thin film of waves over its back turned them to a shining, shifting blue-grey mosaic. Its head broke water, but its eyes didn’t roll back. On the hide she knew as well as her own skin, the scars looked like strange new constellations in the sky.

  Darok cleared his throat, and she tore her attention away from the shark; she had forgotten he was there. “We’ve been feeding it too.”

  “Teaching it bad habits,” Yerena said, but the severity was feigned and he grinned. “You won’t have to for much longer.” Protected and allowed to swim at its own pace, the shark would be fully recovered soon, and although the damage to its fins could not heal, it would be able to hunt for itself again. She closed her hands around the rail and watched, drinking in the sight.

  “Yerena,” Darok began. “The dream you had…”

  “I know. I was wrong. He saved my life.”

  His brows went up. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “I think you heard what you just said.”

  She could imagine what Seawatch’s response would be when they heard it, but for once Seawatch didn’t seem important. “Just don’t ask me to give him a name or anything sentimental like that.”

  “Not yet,” Darok said. “Come, let’s get something to eat.”

  Yerena took one more look at the shark, then went with him.

  The day after that, Julean was allowed to leave the surgery, though it was another three days before Darok spoke with him. Julean had thrown himself from Dreadnaught, obviously preferring to be either drowned or eaten rather than spend any more time in Turean custody, but since the galley had been fleeing by then, he’d been rescued by Hawk Royal before he could die. The physician aboard had treated him, but had also told Darok the damage to Julean’s hands was irreparable.

  As for the less visible wounds, Julean hadn’t been approachable even on Daystrider, and the sight of him now kept everyone at bay. Not that anyone seemed to want to speak with him, since word of what he had done had spread to Hawk Royal’s crew as well. The men who had served with him on Daystrider looked through him, as though he had died on the Turean galley.

  Darok couldn’t blame them. Julean had deliberately left his post and abandoned his duty, so he’d be lucky not to be thrown in prison when they returned to Denalay. Only Yerena spoke to him from time to time, and after hearing from her what had happened on Dreadnaught, Darok considered what to say to his former physician.

  That he was planning it at all was unusual for him, but somewhere along the voyage he’d learned to tread more carefully—at least when dealing with people like Yerena and Julean. He waited until Julean was leaning over the gunwale, watching the waves while men finished their midday meal, then approached him. Though the clothes Julean wore were clean, they didn’t hide his loss of weight. The silver locket around his throat caught a fleck of the noonday sun and threw it back tenfold.

  “The fever’s gone, I take it?” Darok said.

  Julean nodded. Darok wished he had a cheroot to offer the man, just to give them both something to do, but even if he had, he wasn’t sure Julean could go through the motions of trimming and lighting and smoking one without pain.

  “I’m sorry about your hands,” he said. They were wrapped in clean linen, and Hawk Royal’s physician was one of the best in the fleet, but there was no hiding the places where three fingers had once been.

  “I’ll live.” Julean’s voice was quiet and neutral, and the word somehow went unspoken. Darok doubted he could manipulate a scalpel again, which didn’t leave him too many choices.

  At least I can set his mind at ease about one thing. “I won’t bring charges of desertion and theft against you.”

  “Thank you. If I can, I’ll repay you.”

  “I don’t want repayment.” They both knew Julean would not be hired to scrub down the deck on another Denalait ship. “What will you do?”

  Julean breathed out, his chest falling slowly and shoulders slack. “I don’t know,” he said finally, though he didn’t sound bitter or despairing. Perhaps he’d faced too much on Dreadnaught for the prospect of pauperdom on Denalay to frighten him. “I just know what I won’t do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Throw anything else away.” Julean raised his right hand and lifted the silver chain from around his neck with a single unbound finger. It passed over his head, ruffling his hair lightly, and he held it out over the waves. “Except for this.”

  The locket swayed on the end of the chain, gleaming in the sun, and then it was gone, falling into foam and blue water. Darok thought of it sinking all the way down to the quiet depths of the ocean.

  “You didn’t throw that away,” he said.
“You buried it. That’s what people do with the past.”

  Then he went to get his own food, something he hadn’t wanted to do until after he’d spoken to Julean, though that had left him feeling better than he’d expected. Yerena was belowdecks, so he was seated on the quarterdeck polishing off his meal when Kiti Marl’s shadow fell over him. A hat was tilted low over her eyes, but it didn’t hide the hard look in them.

  “I have a message for you from the Admiralty,” she said.

  Darok sighed inwardly. Ask Kiti to deliver eggs, and they’d be chickens when they reached the recipient. He held his free hand out for the message.

  She folded her arms, glaring down at him. “You’ve made admiral.”

  He almost choked on a mouthful of beans. The first thought to cross his mind was that the Admiralty had chosen the most diplomatic means to get him out of the way where he couldn’t damage any more ships with his unorthodox tactics. The second thought was that he was being promoted on Hawk Royal, promoted before the captain of the flagship. No wonder she looked about ready to have him keelhauled.

  “Oh, you should have seen your face.” She laughed and produced a letter sealed in blue wax. Wishing he could think of a clever comeback, Darok got up, grabbed the letter and opened it.

  To Captain Darok Juell of the warship Daystrider, Weapon of Denalay,

  The Admiralty hereby charges you to return with all hands to the Home Port on the Greater Horseshoe where you are to be relieved of command of the warship Daystrider.

  The command felt like a punch in the belly. Darok didn’t so much sit down as fold on to the quarterdeck; although he no longer had his Daystrider, he hadn’t imagined he would be stripped of command. What had he done to deserve that?

  It is the wish of the Admiralty that you take charge of command on the warship Wildtide, a prototype of design first in the Guardian Fleet to be so constructed. You are required to choose your officers from among those who serve on Daystrider, and to subject both them and yourself to what additional training will be necessary before you take up your duties, and you will then receive further orders to the purpose of defending the waters of Denalay and serving the Unity.