The Library of Anukdun (Legend of the White Sword Book 5)

by P. D. Kalnay

  “Falan can you see what that is?” I shouted.

  He stirred from his nest of blankets and followed my pointing finger, “Definitely a ship, but I don’t think it flies any canvas.”

  “We should leave,” Ivy said, now also awake, “before it reaches us.”

  Falan stared at the already larger speck, “I believe it’s adrift.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “It’s spinning in the current. Since no ship can catch this boat on the open sea, I say we wait until we know what we’re dealing with.”

  Ivy shrugged her indifference, and that’s what we did. Falan was the most experienced sailor on the boat by a wide margin, and we trusted his judgement in nautical matters. Soon, I too could tell the approaching object was a ship, but there was something off about it. A short while later we discovered that everything was off with the ship.

  The largest vessel I’d ever seen floated less than a quarter mile up current from us. It had no sails or masts and dark holes filled spots where chunks of the upper decks and hull were missing. Scraggly plants grew on parts making it look like a floating island, and whatever the original colour, the ship was now stained black. I didn’t need Ivy’s lifesense to know that nobody would pursue us from that ship. It had obviously been adrift for many years. That it still floated was amazing.

  “Ghost ship,” Falan said, “I’ve heard tales, but no one I know has seen one.”

  I turned to Ivy who sat back by the tiller with me, “Ghosts?”

  She understood the gist of my question, “Not a real thing, although creatures of spirit exist, and there are places where the boundaries of life and death are tenuous.”

  Her tone hinted at my being simple, but if dragons were real…

  “They ride the currents,” Falan continued, oblivious to our quiet conversation, “trapped in the endless loop, and doomed to sail the Maelstrom for all eternity.”

  “All eternity?” I asked.

  He looked back over his shoulder with a grin, “Or till they sink—whichever comes first. That ship has been sailing the currents for a very, very long time.”

  “How long?” Ivy asked.

  “I’ve seen a drawing of that make in a book of shipcraft. That is an Imperial Treasure Ship, or what’s left of one. None have sailed since before the Shogaan Empire fell…”

  We stared up as the grim ship came closer. It turned like a sluggish top that would never run down.

  “It’s big,” I said. “How much treasure did they carry?”

  “I’ve no idea,” Falan said. “Shall we find out?”

  I was about to say ‘heck yeah’, before Ivy answered.

  “We aren’t in search of riches. Our quest should not be diverted by trivialities.”

  In a way she was right. OK—she was mostly right—but we were looking at a ghost ship that had sailed its lonely round for thousands of years. Even on a world filled with fairy-tale creatures… that was awesome.

  “We planned to wait out the pirates, anyway,” I said. “We can stretch our legs and maybe find something useful.”

  Falan said nothing, but a glimmer of hope rekindled in his eyes as he looked to Ivy for her answer. Ivy wasn’t in charge or anything, but we’d decided that when circumstances allowed, we would talk about and vote on decisions affecting the quest. Falan got a vote too because he was one of us now and magically bound to the mission.

  “We can go near enough for me to check it for enemies,” Ivy said grudgingly. “If it is empty, and it looks sturdy, then we can take a brief look.”

  “Fair enough,” I said.

  Falan and I grinned like fools. No vote was required.

  I turned the ship at right angles to the current and took us in, threading a pair of whirlpools. It was easy in my fast moving boat. Then I drove us closer to the ship and alongside. We matched its spin as both vessels drifted in the relentless current. The Maelstrom tickled at the back of my consciousness, but it was a safe distance away.

  “Is this close enough?” I asked Ivy.

  She nodded without turning, focusing an intense gaze on the ship.

  “Nothing,” Ivy said, “except for the plants growing on deck and hull. I sense no other living creatures.”

  “It’s probably unwise to stay tied up while we explore,” Falan said.

  “I’ll wait on the boat and come closer when you’ve finished exploring,” Ivy said.

  That was nice, but it didn’t seem fair that she’d miss out.

  “Are you sure?”

  Ivy shook her head, “I have no interest in poking around a slimy, rotting old wreck.”

  To each their own, I thought.

  Falan pointed to a jagged hole in the hull about fifteen feet above the waterline. It was one of the smaller holes, and also the lowest. The hole was large enough to admit us without squeezing. “Let’s try to get in through there,” he said.

  “I’ll go first and then you can throw up a rope.”

  “How will you get up there?” Falan asked, eyeing the distance.

  I pointed a thumb back over my shoulder, “Wings.”

  Jumping fifteen feet was nothing for me on land. On the water, it would be a dicey proposition, but I thought doable.

  “Here, Ivy, you take the tiller and keep us next to it.”

  “Are you sure, Jack?”

  “Worst case scenario, I go for a swim.”

  Ivy brought us in tight and I used my wind magic to make the vertical leap. I made an excellent jump, and in spite of the waves and movement of the ship, I got the full height and pushed myself forward to the hole. The bottom was slime covered, but my magic metal hand had a firm grip on the side. Intact floor lay only a short step down on the inside, so I stepped in.

  “Throw up the rope,” I called down.

  Falan threw a small coil neatly into my waiting hand, shed his heavy cloak for a lighter tunic beneath, and shinnied up the line as I braced the top end. My left hand had no sensitivity and wasn’t what I’d call dexterous, but for holding onto things—it was exceptional. In short order Falan stood beside me in the opening.

  “Don’t dally,” Ivy called. Then she turned the boat and took it away from the ship.

  Falan squatted at my side. He struck a flint to steel and lit a compact lantern his father added to our gear and that had avoided theft by being in our possession at the time of the scal rider’s raid.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “Yes, let’s work our way up top.”

  He turned and held the lantern aloft. The flickering flame revealed a vast open hold that must have consumed the middle third of the ship, and we stood on a walkway that ran along the hull. Lumpy piles of something filled the entire hold, although only the highest piles stood above sloshing sea water.

  “What do you think that is?” I asked.

  “Ballast.” Falan moved up the walkway. “There’s less than I’d have expected for a ship this size. Perhaps they left somewhere in a hurry.”

  I sent my senses out around us, trying to get an idea of what lay beyond the lantern’s light. While my windsense worked well at sea, everything petrathen related was crippled by the absence of land underfoot. When they were close enough, I could still determine basic things about metal or stone. The piles of ballast made my Spidey Sense tingle. Falan walked right on past a set of open stairs that went below, but I turned and descended to the waterlogged bilge.

  “What are you doing?” Falan asked.

  “Just checking something.”

  I squatted on the last dry step and reached for a fist-sized lump of the ballast. It was heavy, confirming what I’d sensed.

  “Gold,” I said, mostly to myself.

  “Gold?”

  “This is all gold.”

  I scrapped at the nugget with a steel fingertip, peeling back the dark enamel that covered and concealed it. The unmistakable gleam of gold shimmered in the lantern light. Then I threw it back onto the pile with a splash and a clunk.

  “Tha
t’s why they didn’t fill it higher,” I said. “This ballast is heavy.”

  “It can’t all be…”

  I wasn’t unmoved by the treasure, but we had a small and full boat, making it pointless to become too excited.

  “Yup, all gold. I can tell. We should keep exploring or Ivy will get upset.”

  I had to gently shove Falan to get him into motion again. Wide stairs led up from the far end of the hold to the next level where moving through the ship became less pleasant. Collapsed walls, debris filled hallways, and fallen timbers blocked many potential paths forward. We found nothing of interest to compete with the precious ballast for a few levels of ship, or possibly we’d missed the good stuff in our dank, dark, and often tight-fitting journey upward. It wasn’t much fun and the place—pardon the pun—was a wreck. I considered telling Falan that I thought we should just go back.

  Then the way ahead opened.

  Light flooded a mostly clear hallway. That light travelled down who knew how many levels from the top deck through a gaping wound that cut up to open sky. The dim daylight was dazzling after our below-decks crawl and it illuminated the skeletons. A dozen skeletal warriors, who were nothing but rusty armour and bone, lined the hallway. They didn’t look as if they’d gone down without a fight. The first guy hung from a broken spear that pierced breastplate and pinned him to the wall. His rotten boots still hung inches from the floor.

  “Imperial guardsmen,” Falan said. “I think.”

  I would have liked to examine the armour, but we’d spent a while slogging through the ship already, “Maybe we should go back or look for another way out.”

  “Easiest to go forward,” Falan said. “The officer’s quarters and other living space will be in the stern, and that’s where most of the holes are.”

  I followed him past the skeletons, being careful not to step on anybody. The bodies were man shaped, heavy plate armour hid the bones, and visored helmets covered the skulls. We had few choices for our route because of general collapse and blocked passageways. Sometimes holes in the floors cropped up, which slowed our progress as we minded our step. More fleshless corpses marked our progress at regular intervals.

  After climbing several flights of stairs and working our way through the passageways of the ship, we arrived at a wide hall with peaked skylights running along the ceiling. Only two panes of greenish glass remained intact in the frames.

  A spacious, open hall lay ahead, and we’d reached an upper level of the ship, which was interesting. The bodies were more interesting. That long wide hallway was full of boney denizens: twenty or thirty looked like they’d been former guardsmen, but two bigger skeletons also flanked the doors at the far end. Although the place was too full to avoid stepping on anyone, nobody complained. Falan and I didn’t speak either as we crossed the hall.

  I thought it was a good thing ghosts weren’t real.

  The last two skeletons had four legs apiece, with heavy skulls and sharp teeth. The yellowed canines filling the powerful jaws looked lethal after uncounted centuries. Heavy leg bones and thick barrel-like chests—covered in tattered fur hides—rounded out the remains. The skeletons were big enough, minus muscle to be intimidating lying on the ground. They were also surprisingly intact.

  “Maigur,” Falan said.

  I pictured the stone statues in Gaan and the one living example I’d met in Felclaw’s market. They bore an unmistakable resemblance.

  “I’d wouldn’t want to meet up with these guys in a dark alley.”

  “Agreed. This must be an important room to have such an entrance—possibly the quarters of a dignitary or noble person.”

  “Not the captain’s cabin?”

  Falan snorted, “No ship’s captain would be afforded this much luxury. This cuts into the ship’s cargo capacity, and they had a glass ceiling on a ship that sailed the Maelstrom!”

  I hadn’t considered that, but having sailed those seas—I thought skylights were a mad extravagance.

  “I think we check this and then go.”

  “Yes,” Falan said, “we have likely stayed too long.”

  He turned a tarnished brass latch that held the ornate double doors closed and led the way into the next room. A wall of broken windows across the back reminded me of the room Ivy and I shared on the Starburst—that was where the similarities ended. Falan and I stood at the threshold of a room at least ten times as big, and a hundred times more luxurious. The fabrics had largely rotted, and gilt hung peeling away from the carved, panelled walls, but even in ruins the opulence was overwhelming. So was the smell.

  The rest of the ship smelled of salt mixed with a hint of mould. When the doors opened, a powerful reek of dead things washed over us. It was as strong as harpy stink, but entirely different. As the initial shock passed, I noticed that despite the glassless windows, affording a view of the sea, the room remained dark, as though a shadow lay over everything.

  A strangely carved stone urn sat on the rotting carpet in the middle of the room. I sensed it was full of enchantments, but they weren’t of a kind I recognised. The symbols carved into the stone were new to me too. Before I could take a better look, I felt them come alive and then I saw something rise from the neck of the urn. What looked like black smoke gathered and swirled above, and, slowly, it took a more solid shape.

  “We must flee.” Falan’s voice was a hoarse, terrified whisper.

  That’s when I heard rasping sounds and the clink of metal on metal behind us. Somehow I knew what I’d see when I looked back—although a large part of me couldn’t quite believe it. The skeletons filling the hall climbed to their feet, the room grew even darker, the undead assembled to our rear, and yet I was certain that the thickening darkness in front was infinitely worse. I turned toward the doors as Falan did the same.

  I wished I’d brought my hammer and shield.

  All the skeletons, including two big, sharp-toothed ones had almost finished rising. There was no way we could dodge so many boney fingers and rusty swords. We also couldn’t hang around waiting on whatever was materialising in the room.

  In a combination of animal instinct and desperation, I gathered air in front of me, forming an invisible wedge-shaped shield. Then I ran forward, knocking boney arms and weapons away, and sweeping long dead soldiers from their feet as though my air shield was the cow catcher on the front of a steam locomotive.

  My yelling replaced the whistle.

  I had less momentum behind me than a train, but the temporary shield proved enough protection to allow us to run the gauntlet and pass the first round of undead. Luckily, I learned later, it takes longer to raise a larger corpse than a smaller one, and the Maigur didn’t find their feet until we’d cleared the hall. When I glanced back, I saw them pounce and wedge in the doorway. Only their huge size and the fact that they arrived together let us escape their fangs.

  “That way!” Falan shouted.

  He led me along a different hallway than we’d come from, and I followed without hesitation—partly because I trusted his judgement, and mostly because more undead filled the only other exit. Falan’s sense of direction proved true as the outside world appeared through a hole in a wall up ahead. Then we were outside and on a middle deck of the ship. Which was a relief—until I saw that an army of the undead was up there with us. Armed and armoured warriors surrounded us. Many were missing limbs or heads, but it didn’t make them less frightening.

  “There!”

  I followed Falan’s pointing finger. Ivy sat in the boat a few hundred yards to the north of us. I created an ill formed tunnel of air and screamed her name. Not my best work, but Ivy turned and shot towards the ship. The undead charged us at the same time. Fighting wasn’t a consideration. Not counting small belt knives, we were unarmed, and who knew if you could even kill the dead. There were hundreds of them. More climbed from cracks and crevasses across the ship like hornets emerging from a broken nest. Falan and I shared a glance, raced across the deck to a gap in the railing, and jumped.
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  Falan dove neatly into the waves below and I glided towards Ivy. I actually landed in the boat, making it some of my best gliding ever. Ivy drove for Falan, and I manfully ignored a rapidly swelling ankle as I hauled our sodden crewmate over the side. A ship full of the undead loomed close above us.

  “Get us away!” Falan shouted, well before he’d gotten all his breath back.

  “What’s wrong?” Ivy asked, as she turned the tiller.

  “Necromancer!”

  Ivy’s eyes went wide, and she took the pump up to full speed, which was never a good idea except on a smooth straightaway. My viselike hand held me in place, but Falan rolled two benches back as the prow came out of the water.

  A low moan from the ship preceded the six skeletons that leapt from a nearby hull breach. Five landed short of the boat and sank like stones, but the sixth got a boney arm over the side. Falan was closest, and he hacked viciously until his curved knife cleaved forearm from hand and the skeleton slid beneath the surface. The hand didn’t release its grip, even with the body gone. Ivy slowed, a hundred yards away.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

  I looked back to see what she stared at, and saw the half rotten corpse of some great leviathan surfacing between us and the ship. I absently noted that the eyes were empty black holes and that something had gnawed away one rear flipper. The long-necked, thick-bodied corpse reminded me of pictures I’d seen of the Lock Ness Monster. I’d never learned more than a few of the more popular dinosaur names as a kid, but I’d seen the skeleton of something similar in a museum once. The leviathan was many times the size of our boat, and it was coming over for a visit.

  Ivy turned us up current which wasn’t entirely away from the ship or the monster.

  “Go that way!” I pointed in the direction opposite the ship.

  Ivy ignored my instructions and cut distressingly close to the rotting beast. A mouth that could have engulfed half our boat opened wide, displaying several rows of needle sharp teeth, each as long as my forearm. It missed us by a few yards as the head drove into the sea. The wake of its attack half-filled the boat with seawater, and I activated the bilge pump at full power. We still lost one of our new water barrels and a crate of food over the side before the water drained to a safer level.