Scimitar's Heir

by Chris A. Jackson

  He glanced around. He was in one of the passages that bordered Akrotia’s inner hull, the interface between the uppermost level of the mer city and the air-filled, landwalker area above. According to Eelback, there were inner grottos that could be partially flooded so that landwalker and mer could meet. Eelback had set everyone searching for an entrance to these grottos. “Doors,” he had said they were called; hard plates that prevented water from entering the city when closed, but that could be opened to admit the sea. Their ultimate goal was the Chamber of Life, the room that held the secret to the city’s restoration. In private, Redtail had asked Eelback how he knew all this. “The scrolls,” was Eelback’s answer to every question of late. Redtail was beginning to think that perhaps Eelback put too much faith in these scrolls.

  Positioning his harpoon tip once again, Redtail wrenched and pulled. The water about him was thick with bits of floating debris and small fish that had come to feast on the meat of the shattered barnacles and mussels. Finally a large mat of crusty growth peeled away. Peering through the cloud of silt, he saw the unexpected, and blinked. It was part of a metal circle with clear-cut lines spiraling out from its center: a door. Gulping water in his excitement, he dropped the harpoon and darted through the passage to where Eelback worked.

  *I have found it!* Redtail signed, waving his arms for attention. *I have found a door!*

  *Excellent!* Eelback clapped him on the shoulder. *Show me!*

  Redtail flipped his fins and led Eelback to the portal. They cleared it completely and peered at the strange circle. It was perfectly round, only slightly wider than their shoulders and made of interlocking metal plates. The metal was smooth, with none of the pitting or decay that most metals showed in seawater. Eelback picked at some stubborn barnacles around the edges and pushed on the plates. When nothing happened, he twitched his tail in irritation.

  *How do we open it?* Redtail asked. The joy he had felt at finding the door was dwindling.

  *If Akrotia were alive, it would open by magic when I placed my hand in this recess.* Eelback indicated a round depression beside the door. *Now, I do not know. The scrolls speak of a way to open and close the doors without the magic, for they were built before the first seamage joined with the city to give it life. Look for something that might be used to open the door.*

  The two began picking at the wall around the door, peeling away more growth. An arm-span to one side of the door, Eelback discovered an unusual clump of growth. Scraping it clean, they found a circle of metal with spokes attached to a shaft that entered the wall.

  *I think this will open the door,* Eelback signed.

  They grasped the circle and pushed, but nothing happened. Eelback worked the tip of his blade around the edges of the shaft to clear out the coralline algae and tube worms encrusted there. They pushed again, and pulled, but the circle would not move in or out. When they tried again, the circle turned minutely.

  *It turns!* Redtail signed, shifting color in excitement.

  *I will turn this slowly, while you watch the door to see if it opens,* Eelback signed, fluttering his fins. Eelback’s good mood was contagious, and Redtail darted in a quick circle before dashing back to the door.

  Redtail watched the door carefully as Eelback turned the wheel. He heard a faint scraping sound of metal on metal and the door moved a tiny bit, the plates rotating. The door opened in the way that an eye opens when darkness falls.

  *It opens!* he signed, looking to Eelback with a grin. *Turn it more!*

  Eelback complied, and the plates shifted again; a tiny bit of water began to flow through the hole in the center of the door, just big enough that Redtail could poke a finger inside.

  *More!* he signed, and Eelback turned the wheel further, and further, but now the plates did not shift, and the opening did not get any larger. *What happened? Is it stuck?*

  *No,* Eelback signed back, *it turns freely.* He demonstrated this by spinning the little wheel several turns with one hand.

  Redtail peered at the door and tapped it with the haft of his spear. Metal screeched, and the door snapped wide open. Before he could even think, a torrent of water flooded from the tunnel through the door, pulling him toward it. Redtail flipped around and swam, flicking his tail hard against the maelstrom. He glimpsed Eelback’s startled face before he was pulled all the way through. At the last moment he flung out his harpoon, and it caught across the doorway.

  Redtail managed to maintain his hold on the weapon, bowing his head into the horrific flow, straining to keep his grip. He could barely breathe with the water moving so fast over his gills, and debris and detritus caught in the flow pummeled him. Just when he thought that the flow might be easing, the large clump of barnacles that he had dislodged from the door was caught up by the current, and cracked him sharply on the knuckles. He lost his grip and found himself falling. Tumbling backward through the air, he caught a fleeing glimpse of the interior of the chamber. It was cavernous, with ornate arches and fluted columns. The walls glittered with glow crystals.

  Beautiful, he thought the instant before his head struck the far wall, and the twinkling lights faded to black.

  Chapter 9

  Payment

  Parek stepped from Cutthroat’s gunwale to the pier and looked around with distaste at the carnage the cannibal warriors had wrought. Corpses littered the pier and beach. Even now, a few stalwart defenders were being clubbed down, netted or spitted alive to the ground with spears to prevent them from fleeing or fighting. He watched as one woman, wounded but surrounded by the corpses of those she had slain, slit her own throat rather than be taken by the cannibals. Her foes cried in dismay, but immediately grabbed her body and dragged it to a growing pile near the end of the pier.

  “Bloody mess,” Parek muttered. He followed four of his best fighters—his designated bodyguards, since he didn’t trust the cannibals as far as he could toss them—down the pier. Sam swaggered toward him from the beach. Her cutlass was bloody to the hilt, and her face, arms and torso spattered with gore.

  “That went well!” she said jovially, stooping to wipe her blade on the hair of a fallen native. She inspected the weapon and wiped it again, this time with the hem of her shirt, before snapping it into its scabbard. She nodded to the single burning building. “Except for the lofting shed, we took everything intact.”

  “The keep?” Parek asked, watching a group of cannibals haul a short, stocky shape onto First Venture, which was docked across the pier from the Cutthroat. Prisoners, he realized, cringing as he considered their fate in the hands of these savages.

  “I haven’t been into the keep yet,” Sam said, “but there may be a few holdouts in there.”

  “We should go in ourselves before these maniacs destroy everything.” He motioned for a few more pirates to follow, then started up the path to the keep. “Do you know where Flaxal kept her valuables?”

  “Nope, but they shouldn’t be hard to find; she couldn’t have taken everything with her.” Sam looked toward the burning building again, then gazed up at the pall of smoke rising into the sky. “We should post a lookout on the peak with a good glass. From there, we’ll have plenty of warning if any ships approach.”

  “Good idea. Kori, you go, and take my glass.” Parek handed the instrument to the man, who saluted and ran toward the trail up to the mountain’s peak. The captain lengthened his strides, eager to explore the keep, but noticed that Sam had stopped dead in her tracks. She stared at the bodies on the beach, then peered toward the jungle. “You coming, Sam?”

  “I’ll be up in a bit. I want to check something first.” She trotted off toward a path that wound through the huts that formed the little village, some of which had already been put to torch by the cannibals.

  “Suit yourself,” he said, turning and climbing the blood-slicked steps. “More for us, ay lads?”

  His me
n cheered and drew their weapons, and proceeded eagerly but carefully into the seamage’s keep. After all, who knew what treasures or terrors they might find within.

  ≈

  Camilla watched the horrific assault on the beach through the sheer drapes of her balcony, silent witness to the deaths of so many of her friends, people she had joked with, whose children she had taught, whose babies she had seen born. She fought back her sorrow so that tears wouldn’t give her away, funneled the heartache into an anger so hot that it burned back her fear—her fear of becoming her old self, the person she had never, ever wanted to be again: a slave. She actually breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the pirates enter the keep, grateful that they would find her before the cannibals did.

  She turned away from the grim spectacle as the shouts of the pirates rang through the halls of the keep. She sat on the divan, arranged her dress and waited.

  The door handle rattled.

  “It’s locked,” someone said.

  “Break it!”

  A heavy impact rattled the stout door.

  “Again!”

  Splinters flew from the doorjamb as the door burst open and two pirates tumbled into the room. A third, the leader from the look of him, walked in behind them, his eyes fixing upon her as if acquiring a target.

  “It’s about time you arrived,” Camilla said, her tone steady despite her trembling nerves. “I expected you sooner. I mean, it’s been more than two years, Mister…Parek, isn’t it? First mate of the Cutthroat?” Pleased that she had managed to dredge up the name after so long, Camilla rose and smoothed her crimson dress. “I’m—”

  “Captain Parek, if you please. You’re Camilla, Bloodwind’s slave.” He nodded toward the other room as he advanced. His men fanned out, checked the bedroom and returned with a shrug.

  “Bloodwind’s wife, if you please, Captain,” she shot back, lifting her chin haughtily. She prayed that her former position might earn her a reprieve from the pirates’ usual treatment of female prisoners.

  “Widow, don’t you mean?” Parek advanced another step, looked at her curiously. “And what do you mean, you expected us sooner?”

  “I mean, Captain, that the seamage has kept me prisoner here for two years, flaunting the fact that she stole Bloodwind’s hoard right out from under me. And never, while she was out gallivanting in one of those blasted schooners of hers, did you have the fortitude to come to my rescue.”

  “Your rescue?” He squinted at her skeptically and waved his cutlass in a broad arc toward the sumptuous room, then lifted the lace cuff of her sleeve with the tip of the blade. “You mean she kept you here under duress? You’ve got some nice things for a captive.”

  “All dressed up with nowhere to go.” She ran her hands slowly over her trim waist, then her hips, drawing Parek’s eyes to her body as she’d hoped…and feared. “Fine clothes don’t mean much when the door is locked. I certainly don’t have a key.” In fact, she had thrown the key far over the balcony into the thick vegetation below, so she wasn’t lying about that.

  “So,” Parek said as he licked his lips, “do you know where the sea witch keeps her gold?”

  “I know where she keeps everything, Captain,” Camilla said, advancing until their faces were only a few inches apart. “Would you like me to show you?”

  “I’d like that very much…Miss Camilla,” he said, reaching down to take her by the wrist. “Where shall we go first?”

  “Cynthia Flaxal’s chambers. The ones that used to be Bloodwind’s.” She smiled at him, ignoring his painful grip. She was old friends with pain. “You remember, I’m sure.”

  “That I do.” Parek grinned and pulled her out of the room into the hall almost faster than she could walk in the restricting dress. “Upstairs, lads! First door on the right!”

  ≈

  Almost there, Eelback thought. He rounded one more corner, taking care not to scrape Redtail’s limp body along the jagged barnacles that covered the walls of the tunnel. Just ahead was the grotto he sought, but it had been a long swim, and his gills pumped hard with the exertion of pulling his friend in his wake. He rounded the corner and stopped. Only three mer were here; the rest were out hunting for doors. Tailwalker huddled in one corner, facing the wall. Kelpie floated across the grotto from him, the seamage’s baby in her arms, her eyes on Tailwalker. Slickfin, who was supposed to be guarding the other two, lay against the near wall, half asleep. The currents from Eelback’s hurried entrance roused her. Flipping her tail, she darted over, her eyes wide and her scales flushing red with panic.

  *What happened to my brother?*

  *He was injured,* Eelback signed as he pushed her aside and nudged Redtail toward Kelpie. *Kelpie! Heal him, quickly!*

  Kelpie looked at him, then at Redtail, but made no move to help. Instead, her eyes narrowed.

  *Release Tailwalker, and I will heal Redtail,* she signed.

  Eelback recoiled at Kelpie’s demand. *I cannot do that! I must keep Tailwalker to ensure his father’s cooperation. Without him, Trident Holder Broadtail will seek to destroy us. But I also need Redtail. If you do not help him, he will die.*

  *What is one more death, Eelback? You have caused hundreds, thousands, to get what you want. What is one more?*

  *Yes, what is one more?* Slickfin signed. She shot across the grotto, her long dagger in her hand. She held the blade to the priestess’ chest, and blew harsh bubbles. *Heal him, Kelpie, or I will—*

  *You will what? Kill me?* Kelpie scoffed. *You cannot! If I die, the seamage’s heir dies, and Akrotia remains dead!*

  In a flash, Eelback saw all his efforts, his dream of a new world, threatened. He looked at Redtail’s slack features, and at the thin stream of blood that trailed in the current. He smelled it in the water. Redtail had been his friend since they were finlings, had supported him during all the seasons he had sought a means of rebellion, and had followed him willingly on this venture despite the fact that it would forever estrange him from his home school. Redtail could not die; Eelback would not allow it. He pulled Slickfin away from the priestess, then nudged Redtail toward Kelpie again.

  *He is my friend, Kelpie,* he signed. Before she could refuse him again, Eelback drew his dagger and lunged at Tailwalker, stopping only when the blade was at his throat. With his hands tied behind his back, Tailwalker could not struggle, and he could not sign, but he glared at Eelback. *I will make you an oath, Kelpie; if you heal Redtail, Tailwalker will live. If you let Redtail die, then you will watch the one you love die before your eyes, knowing you could have saved him.*

  Kelpie’s eyes widened, then her colors muted in resignation, though her tail still twitched with distrust. *Your oath…* she signed. *Eelback, I do not know why I should trust you, but know that you will earn Odea’s curse if you go back on your word.* She placed the seamage’s baby in a small nook and sculled over to Redtail. *What happened to him?*

  *He was drawn into a chamber by a strong flow of water. He may have hit something. I did not see how he was hurt; I only found him floating, after.* Eelback watched the priestess closely, while Slickfin hovered nervously by his side.

  Kelpie placed her hands on Redtail’s head and clapped her mouth a few times in consternation. Her eyes closed and her tail twitched, and a soft blue glow emanated from her palms. Eelback relaxed; she was not trying to trick him, for he had seen this before, the power of Odea’s healing. It was the same Kelpie had used to heal Cynthia Flaxal, the day the sea-goddess birthed her into their world as a seamage. He prayed to Odea that Redtail would be all right, willed it to be so…

  Redtail’s tail twitched once, then again. His gills fluttered, then pumped more deeply, and his scales flushed through a spectrum of hues from light to dark, then back to light. Kelpie removed her hands, and the glow of Odea’s power faded. Redtail remained still, his gills pumping slowly but steadily. Ee
lback sighed with relief.

  *He will live,* the priestess signed. She swam back to her corner and retrieved her charge, the seamage’s child. *He will sleep for a time, but he will live.*

  *Thank you, Kelpie,* Eelback signed, moving to his friend’s side. Slickfin nudged him aside and took her brother in her arms, rocking him slowly as a parent rocks a sick finling. *Stay with him, Slickfin. I must go. There is still much work to do. Redtail discovered a way into the inner grottos of Akrotia. Now we must find the Chamber of Life.*

  ≈

  Camilla knelt before the chest, worked the key in the lock, and flipped back the heavy lid with a mental apology to Cynthia. This was the only card she had to play, the only card she could think of that might keep her and her hidden friends alive.

  “Holy mother of…” Parek and his men gaped at the gold and jewelry that filled the chest, the incredible hoard that Bloodwind had amassed over his decades of piracy. Cynthia had never bothered to organize it. She had only dumped it out to have it appraised, then put it right back in the same chest, keeping back only the softer gems that might be damaged by the weight of the gold. She spent some when she had to, but that was rarely, since her merchant fleet was doing so well. Most of Bloodwind’s ill-gotten loot was still there.

  “It’s quite a haul, I’ll admit,” Camilla said, running her fingers through the heavy gold coins, jewelry and gems. Atop the hoard lay a golden-hilted cutlass in an ornate scabbard, Bloodwind’s own. Cynthia had kept it as a trophy, had never displayed it, but kept it locked in the chest. Camilla lifted it out and handed it hilt first to Parek. “You may recognize this, too; it belonged to Captain Bloodwind. It’s yours, if you want it. The chest is too heavy to lift. You’ll have to bag it up to get it out of here.”