Dark Depths

by Lani Lenore

  The other men on the boat this night seemed to understand that they wouldn’t be escaping on this vessel, so they’d made themselves content to drift along. Where had these men been recruited from? Nathan didn’t know, but he was certain that they had all been branded as pirates. Most simply sat about on the deck and muttered amongst themselves. Some even laughed. They didn’t believe. Nathan couldn’t say he blamed them, but he kept close to the lever.

  He glanced down toward the water, seeing the growing waves slap their white crowns against the front of the boat. What sort of odd society was beneath him? But why would he wonder that? He knew. It was a world of monsters—monsters that had taken the most beautiful thing in the world and put a mass of bone hooks into her skin. Nathan was shocked that he thought about her now. He’d promised himself—

  “I admit, when I farst heard it, I thought it was nonsense. But now that I find meself here, I know the man’s just a loon! ”

  The voice and the laughter that followed shook Nathan from his thoughts.

  “Aye, it was just somethin’ they used tae say when he were young. Seems it stuck wit him though.”

  More chuckles came as Nathan turned to see the group of men who were talking—deeply tanned and worn by the salty air, every one of them. The two voices that had reached out to his ears were then covered by several others talking all at once. He had not caught on to their subject, but for some reason, he was intrigued. He didn’t need much of a leap to guess that they were speaking of Ellister.

  Looking around for confirmation, Nathan’s attention rested on a tall man a few paces from him, leaning against the side of the boat. He stood with his arms crossed before him, holding with the shadows as if he was one of their own. Nathan knew that man was watching the others—listening. He’d known what they were saying.

  “What are they talking about?” Nathan tried.

  For a few moments, the man said nothing, turning a slow eye to peer at him. Nathan was not sure he expected the man to speak. It had been a wild stab in the dark in the first place. He’d aimed to turn away again, and was surprised when the man finally spoke up.

  “There’s an old rumor about the crown prince,” the man said in a low, gruff voice, but his speech was surprisingly clear. “They say that when he was a boy, he fell off a ship and the sea pulled him under. They tried to save him, but they could not find him.”

  I’ve heard this, Nathan thought, but he did not interrupt. It was, after all, ages ago that he might have heard this story, and he could not quite remember it.

  “Three days later, after every available boat in the kingdom had been searching for him, the young prince was found on the shore just out from the palace—sitting there on the beach. He’d been nowhere near that shore when he’d fallen from that boat, and there was no one else around. He claimed a mermaid had saved him, but of course, he’d been a mere child. No one had given it much attention, but it’s said that to this day, he still swears it to be true.”

  Ah yes. Nathan had forgotten all that. It was some story he’d disregarded from his youth. Why? Because it was foolish.

  But now, supposing it is true…

  “Do you believe that?” Nathan asked, looking on at the stolid stranger.

  In response, the man moved a bit closer, coming out of the shadows. It was then that Nathan noticed that he only had one good arm. The other was nothing but a sleeve hanging from his coat.

  “There are many things I’ve never seen,” the man said lowly, “and there are many things I don’t believe in. But tonight, on this boat, I believe we’re all going to die.”

  A chill ran through Nathan at the sound of those words. The prediction might have been coming from his own mouth, and the words still would have surprised him. The man leaned against the edge, looking out over the water.

  “Do you see them?” he asked.

  Nathan turned as well, looking over the waves that were rising higher and more frequently. Yes, he saw them, and it was not the first time. Ghostly figures walked across the water, taking slow and deliberate strides. They did not seem to see the humorous little ship moving through the midst of them. They were scattered, walking in different directions, and were of all shapes and sizes, but they were there, undeniably.

  Ghosts. Men, women, and children—forms of so many who were lost at sea.

  “The sea is angry,” Nathan’s new comrade said. “Even the dead know it. Maybe we’ll walk among them soon.”

  Nathan did not know about this stranger—who the man was or where he had come from—but he did not plan to die tonight. He would fight his way through, for he had a promise waiting for him.

  A long streak of lightning shot down and touched the water, followed immediately by an eruption of thunder that silenced everyone on the boat. Nathan looked to the sky in acknowledgment.

  “It’s upon us,” he said knowingly, and in that moment, he accepted whatever fate this night would bring.

  2

  The ship was already prepared for the storm, so the men upon it were only obliged to watch and wait. They were now approaching the spot of jagged rocks that Ellister had chosen, and Nathan had been sure then—as he was now—that this place was very close to the island he’d been stranded on. How had Ellister chosen so perfectly? Nathan had heard it from Treasure’s own mouth that any ship venturing near this place would be in danger, but he had said nothing of that to the crown prince. Nathan realized that none of that mattered in this moment. It was not as if they would turn away.

  Nathan hung close to the lever with his hand placed upon it, even as the rain ran into his eyes and drenched him, and even as the boat rocked on the raging waves. The helmsman had fared well so far in keeping the boat steady, which was impressive in this weather, but was crucial to their plan.

  Nathan remained watchful. As they neared the rocks, he began to grow tense. Were those tiny glowing eyes he saw looming over the water?

  Even with paying such close attention, several moments passed before he heard a sound different from that of the storm. It was something like he’d heard before, parting through the roar and penetrating every ear that it found. Nathan’s eyes widened at the sound, and his hand clenched the lever, but he could not move.

  In the beginning, there was only one voice, and knowing he was caught by only one did not make him feel better when more voices arose to make the song stronger. Nathan could not see the men behind him, but he knew they were all entranced, probably much more than he was. He could still think his own thoughts, but he could not move. Why had he thought this would work? Why had Ellister? Perhaps it was simply better than accepting the idea of death.

  He saw the monsters now, just like he had before, sitting on the rocks and holding out their arms, beckoning with the need to be loved. They were glistening and ethereal beneath flashes of lightning, a host of women with supple human skin, begging to be rescued. They were beautiful, even to Nathan’s eyes, but he screamed to himself that this was an illusion. They did not want his love, only his flesh. He knew this, but still could not force himself to fight the song. It occurred to him only now that he should have plugged his ears. Why hadn’t he thought of that? It was only once the boat began to veer toward the rocks that he managed to gain a small amount of control over himself.

  If I let this happen, I’ll die. I don’t want death. I want to make my own choices.

  “Hold on to the rails!” he shouted over the streaming rain.

  He hoped that he’d gotten through to some of the men, but he feared he had not. Nathan threw down the lever, and in a motion that looked as though the ship was capsizing, the wheel locked and the ship rolled with the weight of the anchors, making the wall a platform for the battle they would see.

  Immediately the nymphs had stopped their song and dropped into the water, heading toward what they suspected was their prey. Some of the men, at least, would fall to that. As soon as the ship moved, several lost their balance and fell overboard.

  Nathan had little time
to be concerned with them, however. He steadied himself on the unstable flooring, pulling the sword and gun from his waist, readying himself even as the rain struck him sharply. The monsters were coming, and when he heard the first screams as those men who were trying to climb back into the boat were pulled beneath the water, Nathan knew the enemy was upon them.

  The men’s hands on the edge of the boat were replaced by ugly, blue-gray fingers. The nymphs were creeping along to find the ones who had eluded them. Their faces eased up past the edge, with glowing eyes and sharp smiles. Their illusion spell had worn off, no longer perfect. At the sight of them, some of the men who were standing with weapons began to lose their resolve completely, yelling in fright. Nathan kept his wits.

  The nymphs moved closer now, and only a few men dared to advance. Nathan was among them, and another was his one-armed acquaintance. His sword in hand, Nathan struck down, cutting the face of one of the creatures—slicing through a fleshy cheek. Her blood was as red as his. A shrill sound hit the air as she fell back into the water, hurting his ears for the screeching quality of it. For a few moments, the roar of the storm was replaced by ringing in his ears, but he could not stop to favor his head.

  What were they to do? Was there any hope of winning this battle? Only a few blows were delivered before the creatures’ song picked up once again, riding the waves all around them. Every twist of hope that Nathan had stored in his heart had begun to unravel. It was all a disaster, but he knew he shouldn’t have expected more than that. Some of the men were so startled by what they were seeing that they could not manage themselves. Others were so taken with the song of the nymphs that they were jumping into the water willingly, having only enough time to scream in terror as the creatures bit into their necks and pulled them under the waves.

  I’m going to die, Nathan thought. I may be the last one standing, but they will have me as well.

  His gun boomed loudly as he unloaded a bullet into a nymph that had tried to grip his ankle. Even with the small victory, his mind was racing. He chanced to look to his side, seeing his one-armed comrade teetering on the edge of the boat. Was the man being drawn in, or was he trying to jump? Nathan felt something inside him stir. Could it have been empathy? Enough to drive him to act? His pistol was aiming without much thought, and before he could think that it was his last shot, he’d pulled the trigger and put a bullet into the brain of the one-armed stranger, saving him from a worse fate as his body plunged into the water. Nathan had not even known his name.

  Other men around him still struggled, but Nathan shut them out. He backed himself against the wall that had once been the floor, rocking with the waves. The storm raged on around him, and the night was filled with screams. He shut his eyes tight, trying to control his breath. This night was just the same as one he’d experienced just a few days ago. It was that terrible horror relived all over again. That night had been hell, but he’d woken up beside her.

  In what might have been the final flashes of his life, Nathan saw her face before his eyes. She was not here to help him this time, he knew. She’d been punished for it before.

  I am dead, he thought beyond his gasps for sanity. I am as good as dead.

  A harsh grip on his collar startled him, but he was not too surprised when he was knocked down. He splashed in the water that had accumulated at his feet, spitting out the bitter liquid. Nathan had known that his time would come. The only mystery was in what had taken him down. Something was on his back, pinning him so that he couldn’t rise. He knew it was a nymph that had climbed over the back of the boat to feast on him, and soon its small, sharp teeth would be ripping into his throat. He believed that, even as he was trying to twist his gun around to fight, but then a strange realization hit him. The thing on his back was standing.

  Two feet were rooted firmly atop him. He felt his shirt and the skin of his back being ripped by the claws of its toes. It could not have been a nymph, so what was this thing?

  The hell… What in hell!

  He heard a loud screech and a chorus of hissing sounds. His eyes were level with the water, beyond the waves that lapped into his mouth, and he could see the nymphs retreating past the floating bodies. What was this? Nathan could stomach this scene no longer. Acrid fluid burst past his lips, hardly clearing his throat before the scene before him went black.

  3

  By the time Nathan awoke, the sun was high above his head. The shadow of the boat guarded him from the harsh rays, but he was in a predicament nonetheless. Groggily, he recalled where he was—what had happened—and though he had somehow not been killed with the rest, he was stranded once again. He was out on the ocean in a vessel that was fit for nothing, without food or clean water, and by the look of things, he was the only survivor.

  There were bodies still in the boat, but the remainder of the men seemed to have shot themselves or fallen on their swords. Ruined bodies bobbed in the water nearby, and a terrible thought came to him. If the sun was hot enough, it would cook those remains in a while and he’d have food, but that was not a happy thought. Disoriented and sweating, he dry-heaved against the boat.

  Nathan finally managed to pick his dehydrated body up to sit, trying to relax in his wet, uncomfortable clothes. His mind then drifted to what had happened to him that night. Why hadn’t he died like the rest? How had fate allowed him to be spared once again? Or perhaps it was not fate at all. It was luck or something like it. He’d just been lucky.

  That was proven further when he heard a voice, startling him to attention.

  “When the boat didn’t return this morning, I suspected something had gone wrong,” a familiar masculine voice said. “Seems I was right.”

  Nathan lifted stunned eyes, seeing that he was not alone on this still morning after all. Another ship was floating beyond the rocks, not so far away. The voices were carried to him over the water, giving them a distant, echoing quality, but they were clear. Several men observed the scene from the deck, and Nathan recognized the one who had spoken as the crown prince himself.

  Dropping in directly after all the fun, Nathan thought as smugly as he was able. That’s kind of you, Ellister.

  “Hmm. Things didn’t go as I’d planned,” Nathan heard the prince say. “I’ll have to rework my design.”

  As weak as he was, Nathan managed to stand, waving his arms and moving closer to the farthest edge of the platform.

  “Over here!” he shouted, hoping that his voice had enough strength to reach the vessel.

  His call did well to grip their attention, and while the other men seemed shocked to see there was a survivor at all, Ellister smiled, bemused.

  “Ah, Mr. Thomas. While I can hardly say you were triumphant, there must be some god watching over you.”

  Nathan hardly wanted to go into the water after what had happened, but knew he must. Ignoring corpses that had become lodged within the rocks, He managed to swim to the ship and climb onto the deck, using all that was left of his strength to simply stand before Ellister. They were a great contrast—Nathan with his wet clothes and tangled hair, not knowing what sort of fungus might have been cultivating in his boots, and Ellister was before him, perfectly clean and attired as if he were about to address the people.

  The two of them simply looked at each other for a few moments, Ellister observing Nathan, seeking damage, but the assessment was with a flat expression.

  “You’re certainly a mess,” Ellister said, looking over the former pirate’s ragged and soaked clothes, “but tell me you managed to accomplish something.”

  Could the man not see for himself how many of the creatures they’d slain? Nathan turned his eyes to the water. Only a few bodies were visible in the midst of the wreckage, even with the sunlight glinting against the sea.

  “They must have dragged the bodies with them when they retreated,” Nathan guessed. “I killed at least three myself. I’m sure the others ended a few nymphs before their own deaths.”

  Thaddeus nodded thoughtfully. He did not seem up
set about the wreckage or the deaths, or even with the fact that only a few monsters had been killed and no beautiful ones had been recovered. He only seemed to consider the outcome, as if silently noting his mistakes so he would not make them again. There would be a next time. Nathan was sure of it.

  “I’m pleased with you, Nathan,” Ellister said finally. “We’ll get you dry and then you and I will have some brandy below.”

  The crown prince looked to the attendant closest to him.

  “We’ve seen enough here. Tell our helmsman to bring the ship about and take us back. Then see to finding Mr. Thomas some dry clothes, hm?”

  The man bowed his head in revered acknowledgment and began his task. Thaddeus looked back to Nathan.

  “So are you feeling invincible?” the prince asked smugly.

  “I’m sorry?” Nathan questioned. He was feeling far too much relief at simply being alive that he understand see what Ellister was speaking of.

  “You’ve managed to survive a nymph attack twice now. Perhaps there’s some trick to it? Or are you just that capable?”

  There was humor in Ellister’s voice, but Nathan hardly heard him at all.

  “There was something else,” he’d said before he could stop himself. Nathan shook his head straight afterward, knowing then that he didn’t know how he would explain.

  “What do you mean?” the prince inquired with great interest.

  Why did I say that? But he couldn’t stop now.

  “I fell back against the wall, but something managed to get behind me. It knocked me down and ripped my shirt…”

  Nathan turned slightly to show his wounds, before he’d thought about it—without thinking that Ellister was probably looking at several long scratches running through the tattoo on his back.

  “Could it have been a nymph?” Ellister asked, seeming indifferent now, but his eyes were dancing with awareness.

  “No,” Nathan said with a shake of his head, and he was certain of that. It had been no nymph that had tackled him. He was as sure of that as his own name. “It was standing on me, so it couldn’t have been. It… It was something else.”