Deomans of Faerel_Contemporary Fantasy

by Ted Fauster

  Jack thumbed through the small book, surprised that he could actually read the writing. Spells. He could use spells. The pages of the book contained simple pictograms and strange words written in big, gold-foil lettering.

  “Some people have the popular ones tattooed on their forearms,” Marlin added. “Which, I’m sure, is quite handy. But I find that a bit disgusting myself. Besides, that’s a little inconvenient for someone like myself. They’re very easy to remember, and you can pick one of these pocket-books up for a few coppers in just about any provisioner if you happen to lose that one.”

  Again, Jack nodded, suddenly feeling as if any more talk at this point was just useless jabbering. He gathered up his books and pushed back from the table. “Well, I guess I should get up top again and get moving.” He almost left with the books in his arms, but then thought better and placed them both on the nightstand by the bed.

  He looked over his shoulder. “Candletrips, huh?”

  Marlin drew a heavy sigh. “Can—”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Although Marlin couldn’t see, Jack was grinning from ear to ear.

  The route Marlin had plotted was designed to bring them to the tunnel vault as safely as possible, but it wasn’t the fastest. On the maps it looked like a straight shot would had saved them a ridiculous amount of time. According to Marlin, however, that simply was not possible.

  They could have made it quicker, Marlin had been sure to add, if Jack had actually had any experience steering a ship. As far as Jack was concerned, the scenic route would do just fine. He hadn’t come this far to be swallowed up by the ocean.

  Up top, an amazing sight awaited. Gone was every last trace of the vines, moss and mud. Even the decking had been scrubbed clean and now shone with a vibrancy Jack would have never thought possible. Although much of the ship’s metal looked still rusted, the entire vessel looked in much better shape and certainly much cleaner condition. Manny stepped proudly forward.

  “Everyting aboard the top of the ship, as well as the sides and below, are all in order, my keptin,” he said, giving another salute.

  Jack shook his head in disbelief. “Uh… thanks, Manny. This is great.” He waved his thanks to the rest of the crew. “This is great. Thank you.” It came as something of a relief that Jack didn’t have to micromanage the Raratong. Left alone, they did quite well. He expressed this as best he could to Manny, urging him to direct the others as he saw fit.

  They sailed on for quite a while. Hours, it seemed. Late in the afternoon the wind picked up a little, but thus far the seas looked pretty much like what Jack would have expected back on Earth—except maybe for the green water and the two suns.

  He was beginning to think Marlin had been joking about the shelves, but when he heard the little man yelling and screaming through the speakhole he felt a quiver of fear. He leaned close to listen, but Marlin had already run the entire way back to the wheelhouse.

  “We’re coming up on the first shelf,” the out of breath rodent squeaked. He poked his arm out in the general direction of the bow. “It’s just up ahead, off the port side.”

  A strong crosswind rocked the ship. It became difficult to hear one another, even standing so close together. The sea convulsed and they were pelted with a stinging sideward spray of water.

  “Just go into it gently!” Marlin yelled above the bedlam, holding out his little arm and tilting his paw. “And from an angle! You don’t want to go into it head on! We’ll drop down and flop over that way!” He smacked his paws together, which made no audible sound. “Smack straight down into—”

  “Okay! Okay! You’re not helping!”

  Jack whitened his knuckles on the wheel as a machine gun spray of seawater pelted his face. The roar of the ocean grew even louder, and everything began to shake violently.

  He made the mistake of looking across his shoulder. His heart leapt in his chest.

  Aside the Prinkipria loomed a long, undulating fold in the ocean, ridiculously long, like the paused wake from an invisible battleship the size of the Battlestar Galactica. It stood waiting, unmoving, completely defying gravity, both inexplicably beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

  Jack gawked down into the cavernous fold of liquid. Slowly, he forced the vibrating wheel to the left. The ship groaned as it pivoted.

  “Hold on!” he shouted, his heart pounding. What he bellowed next was probably not heard. “I guess this is it!”

  The ship lunged, the prow first bouncing and then dropping down over the edge.

  For a moment, everything went silent.

  And then his stomach dropped.

  The ship lolled over onto its side as it fell, feeling to Jack as if it were about to roll completely over. He shut his eyes and gripped the wheel with all his might, growling as he strained to keep the Prinkipria from tumbling completely over into the hole in the ocean.

  “Have faith!” the velvety voice sounded inside his head. “Your faith in me gives me strength! Have faith, Jack Rowan!” With his eyes pinched shut, he repeated her secret name over and over in his head.

  A long, out-of-control log ride ensued. And then the front of the Prinkipria crashed into a bulge of new ocean.

  The impact sent a shudder down the entire length of the rattled craft. A hiss of water rained down. And then, things finally seemed to settle.

  Jack creaked open his eyes. The suns hung low in the sky, but at least they were out. The wind was calm. Miraculously, they were still in one piece.

  The craft still draining of water, Jack scanned the deck for Marlin. He was nowhere in sight.

  A hint of panic set in.

  Don’t you dare get swept over, he thought to himself. Not now!

  The residual impact into the sea surged and pushed back on the ship, rocking it gently. Jack struggled for footing as he staggered about. He let out a sigh when he caught sight of Marlin over on the far side of the deck. Both of his paws were latched tightly onto some netting.

  “I’m alright!” the soaked rodent called out. He released his grip and gave a wave. “I’m still here! I’m just fine!”

  Jack nearly fell over with relief. He bent and put his hands on his knees. “Good,” he said to his feet. “That’s good.” For some reason, he was growing kind of fond of the little guy.

  The Raratong appeared, spears in hand. They looked spooked.

  “You guys okay?” Jack said as he spit out the ocean. He nearly lost his cookies when he spotted the impossible cliff of green water that still loomed off the portside.

  Manny swiveled his head to look at it, too. When he turned back around, his words didn’t match the queer look on his face.

  “Yes, we are all jest fine.”

  The other Raratong didn’t seem to agree. They huddled together, glaring up at the quivering wall of water, softly clicking and jabbering to one another, reaching out to try and poke it with their spears.

  Jack nodded. He stood and swept back his drenched hair. “Well. Okay then.” Only then did he put his hands on his hips, lean back, and let out a big, triumphant exhale. “I guess we made it!”

  The first shelf successfully navigated, they all gathered in the captain’s quarters to take some much needed time to rest. Through the patchwork window at the back of the cabin, Jack watched as the suns slipped down over the horizon and the sky grew dark. A silvery moonlight washed over the wide and endless expanse of water, casting the scene in a tranquil, metallic glow.

  In his hand he cradled a bejeweled challis of Marlin’s rather good homemade wine. He sipped as he stared. What else was out there? What other beauties? What dangers?

  The Raratong quietly sang songs as they prepared a modest meal designed to keep them all going without filling their bellies to point of exhaustion. There was still work to do, endless work, it seemed. Jack turned back to his rodent friend, who was busy consulting sea charts beneath the flickering spearmint light of the lanterns. Manny passed over bits of dried fish and bread.

  “We’re in good shape,�
� Marlin proclaimed. His spectacles had slipped down the flat expanse of his face to settle just above his pink nose. He poked them back against the broad, flat space between his eyes and looked up from the charts with a grin. “You’ve done it, Jack. You’ve just traversed one of the largest shelves in the Eastern Seas.”

  Jack felt his entire frame settle. He allowed a sigh of relief. “Good. So we’re headed in the right direction?”

  “Yes,” Marlin chimed. “Just a few more hours and we’ll be near the site where the tunnel vault lies.” He clapped his paws together and rubbed them, then eagerly snatched up a piece of fish and ate it. “And then it’s just a hop, skip and a jump to Overgaard!”

  Something crashed onto the deck.

  Jack rolled his eyes. “What now?”

  With a huff, he stood and walked over to the cabin door. He grabbed hold of the handle and yanked it open.

  Outside, he spied a thick tentacle slithering slowly across the moonlit deck. It was oily, green and suckered, as big around as a telephone pole. The probing tip grazed a crate. The serpentine appendage tensed and coiled around it, squeezing until it burst. Mashed fruits pods squished out through the splintered wood.

  Jack whirled around, his eyes wide. “Marlin! What the hell is that?”

  The little rodent pushed past him. He jabbed his shortsword in the air. “Decapods!” he cried. “Quickly, we have to stop them from getting aboard!”

  Marlin dashed across the sea-soaked deck and began hacking at the tentacle. Jack didn’t need an explanation. The nightmare had already pulled itself up onto the deck.

  It looked something like a giant hermit crab with tentacles for legs. At the front of it, two claws the size of cellos scratched at the deck boards in an effort to scuttle on board. Its horrid mouthparts worked to gobble up bits of fallen fruit as the creature’s lidless eyestalks bobbed and swayed. But the most shocking component was what it was using for its home.

  Jack gasped. “Is that a… another ship?”

  The Raratong sprang into action around him, poking and sawing with their spears at more of the slippery tentacles that had latched onto the deck rails. In addition to the big claws, the creature had two main tentacles near the front and six smaller ones along the sides. Each of them snaked about as if they had a mind of their own. Marlin had already hacked off one of the big ones and was working on the second that had wrapped itself around the stanchion post.

  The ship tilted, sending the Raratong sliding in unison toward the creature’s snapping claws. The monster lashed out, reaching to snip them all in one bundle. They leapt and ducked as the claw clapped shut on empty air.

  Manny stood bravely, waiting for just the right moment, and then he lunged forward with his spear. It entered the head just above the mouthparts. The creature screeched and then tumbled to one side, the broken prow tip of the small watercraft it was using for its home crashing down into the side rail, sending a shower of splintered wood and debris into the sea. The busted ship part came loose and both it and the monster tumbled back into the briny waters.

  Marlin stood panting in the moonlight. “There’ll be more!” he cried out as he wiped a dark ooze from his blade. “There are always more!”

  He was right. Before the tentacle Marlin had managed to severe had stopped flopping, two more tentacles shot onto the deck, one from each side of the ship. Jack got a hold of himself and rushed forward with his sword in hand.

  He howled as he swung the cutlass around, bringing it down to cleanly severe the end of the behemoth tentacle that had flopped up onto the starboard side. The cutlass was incredibly sharp, slicing down through the blubbery appendage as if it were jelly. The severed length retreated back over the rails, trailing a gurgle of black ooze.

  Jack held the sword up before him. It sparkled beneath the light of the moon.

  “Holy shit this thing is sharp!”

  The cries of his companions drew him to the other side. Another of the sea monsters had clambered up over the opposite rail. This one was bigger. Its stolen home was an enormous pink conch shell crusted over with barnacles. It stood out against the blackened sky like a decommissioned funhouse ride. One of the Raratong dangled several meters above the deck, hopelessly coiled up in one of its hideous tentacles.

  Jack dashed forward just as Marlin brought his sword down. The rodent’s blow was enough to split the slimy tentacle nearly in two. A gush of blackness rushed out of the gash and the tiny red native dropped onto the deck, gasping for air.

  Jack pulled him clear of the creature’s gnashing mouthparts and then helped him uncoil the dead portion of the tentacle from his ribcage. Once free, the tiny cherub nodded a quick thanks and then immediately snatched up its spear. It turned and rushed over to aid the others in prying the wounded beast back into the ocean.

  Jack could only stare. He’d barely done anything.

  Thankfully, everyone was alright, and there were no more of the creatures. Damage was only minor, although a good portion of the starboard railing had been crushed. Marlin picked up bits and pieces of splintered wood as the Raratong worked tentacle bits over the edge.

  The next morning, using tools procured from a storeroom in the hull, Jack and Marlin worked to repair the railing as Many and the others brought the deck back into order. They had to work swiftly. They would be nearing the tunnel vault soon.

  “Does that happen often?” Jack inquired, still a little shaken from the previous night’s shenanigans.

  Marlin seemed much less impacted. “Quite, actually. All part of being a sailor.” He strained to hold one of the bulwark rails steady as Jack drove nails through the wood to keep it in place. When he’d finished, Jack wiped a sweaty crust of white from his forehead.

  Marlin squinted. “You could use a good immersion, Jack. I’m afraid all this action has flustered you.”

  Jack dropped the hammer. “Flustered? Are you freakin’ kidding me? If there are more crazy-ass monsters waiting in the water—and I’m sure there are—then I’d just as soon take a bath up here!”

  Marlin chuckled as he lined up another board. “Jack, the ocean is leagues deep in all directions. The odds of us encountering—”

  “Screw that!”

  Jack was on his feet now, hands on his hips. He glared about, feeling silly and uncomfortable about how ridiculous he was actually behaving. Still, he couldn’t seem to stop. His frustration finally got the better of him and he turned on the rodent.

  “This is horseshit, Marlin! I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Why the hell would Falfax send a guy from the desert into the… into the friggin’ ocean?”

  Marlin looked like he was about to comment when the wind suddenly picked up. Only seconds later it was howling and screaming. A gush of seawater blew across the deck. The rodent scrambled to gather up the tools.

  “I think we’re here!” he shouted. And then there was no time to have any conversation at all.

  The sky turned a deep purple as a torrent of dark seawater swirled around the ship. The wood creaked and groaned, and the wind continued to wail. The ship began to slowly turn in a circle. Above it all, Marlin cried out again.

  “No!” he yelled as he pointed out over the deck rail. He was backing up as if he had seen a ghost. “This is wrong! This is all wrong!”

  Jack saw it too. A dark swirling vortex that crackled with purple energy was welling up all around the ship. He looked about, helpless.

  Marlin turned, his eyes wild. “It’s a roving vault!”

  The ship shook violently and the air filled with the smell of ozone. There was nothing to be done and no time to go for the wheel. The two of them desperately grabbed at handfuls of netting to keep from being swept overboard as the ship rocked to and fro as it turned around and around.

  A crackle of violet lightning lit up the sky as the Prinkipria was pulled down into a mile-wide hole in the ocean.

  14

  An Overdue Reunion

  The so-called arrangements were not at all what Claire
had expected. It was time to go. She’d studied with the Sisters for long enough. This she knew. But she was having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that it sounded suspiciously like she was about to be burned to death.

  “The gangs surrounding the base of the mountain will not leave,” the Reverend Mother explained, “and pentalphas across all the lands are no longer working, the effects of this wicked storm. I truly am very sorry, my child, but there simply is no other way.”

  “But… you’re going to burn me?”

  “Not your entire body,” Babcha Mishka was sure to add. “Just your arm.”

  It was insanity, to be sure. But wasn’t this entire place? The whole Sisterhood assured her she would rise again. She would be whole. And she would not even remember the entire event.

  Still…

  She knew there was no other way. She was being stubborn. The reports that were able to make their way in suggested Jack and the others were in dire straits. She had to do something. She had to find them. She had to join them. Somehow, she had to help them defeat this storm.

  Her nixies buzzed anxiously around her head.

  “Hold on just for a moment,” she said. “There’s something I’d like to do, if you don’t mind.” Not waiting for a response, she rolled her eyes back and entered the field of white. Uncle Clucker was waiting for her.

  “Somethin’ you need, doll?”

  “Yes, I mean, there is something I wanted to ask you.”

  He held out his wings. “Shoot.”

  “I’m about to be burned. What I mean is, certain parts of me are about to be burned.”