“Consequences,” Aaron said, as though tasting the word. He kept his face level, but inside he felt a tremor of fear. Conners held control over the SDC and every aspect of life for the remaining Corvale in the kingdoms. If he wanted Aaron dead, he could send twenty more like Miriam to make it so. If he wanted to take Aaron’s dragon Marsail away from him, he’d find a way to do so. If he wanted to divide Aaron from his people, his only purpose in this life, it would only take one declaration from New Wyelin.
“Aaron, you know Camron Air, right? Led by a guy named Anders Dentrick, though his dad was the real mastermind.”
“I met him earlier tonight.”
“See?” Miriam said with a warm smile. Turning back on the charm. “You’re already getting so much done. And a meeting with the Queen too? You’re on fire. Just do what you can to destabilize Camron Air. You can help Sleepy Jon with whatever he needs as a secondary objective. Just, you know, make sure it stays secondary.”
Aaron sat back down, putting out his cigarette. “Where are you headed right now, Miriam? Back to Conners’ loving arms? Or are you sticking around?”
She ignored the tone. “I thought I’d stick around a couple days. Tell you what, you need anything, leave word with the bartender downstairs. Just leave it for M. And how about we keep this between us for now?” She finished with a long swallow and a smile. She stood, looking at Aaron.
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t count on much getting past Sleepy Jon. Or Cal for that matter.”
She gave a final warm smile and quietly left the room, leaving nothing but her clean scent behind.
Aaron stared out the window after her. He didn’t like that she’d found a way in and out of the shop without alerting Sleepy Jon and his crew. He didn’t like anything about that meeting. Conners wouldn’t have had time to send Miriam here. Which meant she was already here when Aaron arrived. She had some game in place and he’d wound up in the middle of it. She might have been already on CA’s contract. Or something else entirely.
He was supposed to keep the SDC objective a secret from Jon and Cal? Beyond that awkwardness, there was the question of priorities. Aaron loved his people and wanted to keep them safe. Giving his life over to the Corvale nation and the SDC had been his way of doing so. But they were far away and they were safe as far as he knew. It felt like an attack on Camron Air was just protecting the SDC’s profitability. Nowhere near as real or important as what he’d seen tonight. A small girl, eyes wide in fear, thrown into the harbor to be taken under the waters by monsters. If the Queen was right, they were coming for her other daughter. And he had no idea why or how.
As the sun peeked up over the horizon, Aaron’s already low spirits sank deeper. He was in the process of being pulled into dark waters here in Surdoore. Meanwhile his ties to the SDC and Conners were tugging him upwards. The pain from the hook which had sunk into his ankle earlier was bothering him. He wondered how many hooks would dig into him before this was over. How many different directions the lines holding them would pull.
The Revealing Tides
Chapter 7. Lesson in History
“Tell us about the Sunken.” Shay and Jon sat in a dusty office at the back of a small museum. The woman who ran the place had enthusiastically offered her time to answer their questions after they’d left a handful of coins in the donation box out front. No one else had entered or exited the rundown space since they’d arrived. Business was not thriving.
The curator had led them past a few exhibits on the maritime history of Surdoore and the Plate. There were models of every imaginable boat one might see in the harbor. A wall covered in fishhooks and nets. A scale model of the city done in wood. Everything was neatly labeled with yellowing paper.
“The Sunken,” she began, her eyes sweeping between Shay and Jon as though she addressed a lecture hall, “is the common terminology for the victims of the Gale House Purge, which is estimated to have occurred in the year 674 on the Tannes calendar. So close to three hundred years ago.”
She stood and walked over to a heavily loaded bookshelf. “I have an illustration in here somewhere. Can I ask what you’d like to know specifically? I could take you through the full history of the legend or skip straight to the existing folklore and its significance among the different class groups of the Plate.”
Shay looked at Jon, who shrugged. “Start with the beginning,” she said.
“Good,” the curator replied, still standing and paging through a book. “It all starts with the Plate. It is common to now refer to the Plate as a substitute for the city of Surdoore. But most people don’t realize it is a real structure. We sit atop an almost perfectly round deposit of white demonite coral. Nearly all of Surdoore rests on it. Over untold years, thousands I am sure, it has accumulated soil, silt, and all manner of plant life. Only the deepest foundations of the city get anywhere near it. And so it has fallen out of the understanding of commoners. They only know our city is unusually round, looking like a filled plate. But it is a single piece of coral which can be inspected directly at certain locations, especially along the water line. The Plate is not perfectly level, though it could easily be mistaken for that given how minor the variations in it are. It is between three and four inches thick in all measured instances, which for obvious reasons are only at the edges.”
Jon shifted in his chair, which creaked under his weight. “Explain obvious reasons.”
“Well, it is impenetrable. It is made of a coral only rarely found along the northern shore of the Sea of Colors. The coral, as I said before, is called demonite, and it is so dense that it is virtually impossible to dig or scrape through it. Every few years a scientific project is attempted wherein they identify a location and attempt to tunnel through. They are always given up after a profound lack of progress. Drills, sandpaper, nothing works. Thus we can only measure the edges.”
“How does the Plate work with the canals?” Jon asked.
“If you were to swim to the bottom of a canal, you would find a thick layer of sediment. Under that sediment you would find a smooth white barrier. If you pay attention to the flow of the canals, you’ll notice they tend to drain slowly off into the harbor. Water flows onto the Plate from the north and slowly enters the Sea of Colors to the south.” She paused. “Before we move on to the Gale House, I urge you to ponder the significance of the Plate. Our feet are resting just above one of the most marvelous natural phenomena in the known world.”
“But what is it?” Shay asked.
“One can only speculate, but the consensus belief among the scientific community is that it is the remnant of a sea creature from long before the oceans settled. Either a creature that was thin and round or, more likely, a single arm or leaf of that creature. For whatever reason, its position relative to the land mass or something else, it remained level and stable long after its brethren were either worn away by time, broken by weather, or washed out into the deeper seas, far below where we could find them.
“So the current understanding of the Plate is minimal. It has become little more than a name. But its geography comes into play in the tale of the Purge.
“The House Gale was the most prominent noble house in Surdoore centuries ago. They shared the Plate with the King of Camron, in the same palace the Queen holds today, and seventeen other major noble houses. The Gales were rumored to match the King in power and wealth. They were also rumored to practice enormous cruelty in the course of their ambition.
“It is hard to separate truth from speculation and equally hard to tell what was understood before the House Gale Purge and what was invented afterwards to justify the extreme manner in which they were punished. But there are stories of the House Gale leading beheadings, torture, drownings, and more. One of the most common stories, and you will recognize its significance in a moment, was that Lord Gale’s favored method of punishment was to bring those who had wronged him down to the harbor and hold their heads underwater until the thresher sharks came to investigate and dragged them under. Th
e commoners have tremendous fear of the threshers, viewing them as a symbol of death. Which, they quite literally are.
“As you can imagine, the elaborate tortures of the House Gale is a lurid topic that has drawn many historians to write about at length. The public was fascinated with the deeds of the House Gale for a time too, but that has faded and greater emphasis is placed on the folklore of the Sunken.
“The House Gale was sprawling, with retainers in every industry. There is no clear indication of how House Gale crossed the line and gave their enemies enough incentive to band together for the Purge. All that is known is that one night in the year 674, with a young moon in place, every member of the House Gale was rounded up along with every retainer, anyone who had ever stood publicly on their side. Perhaps as many as five hundred were marched in chains to the edge of the harbor with swords at their backs. The crowd pressed forward and they were driven into the water. The crowd watched as the threshers descended on the group.
“You are aware of the unusually high presence of thresher sharks in the waters around Surdoore? It is, again, the geography of the Plate that contributes to this. The canal waters entering from the north pick up all the waste of a major city on their slow journey across the Plate. You’ll notice most of Surdoore’s rich live in the north and the working classes are near the harbor. By the time the water reaches the harbor it is soiled. This water pours into the harbor, feeding all manner of sea creatures, big and small. Surdoore’s fishermen learn quickly to avoid fishing too close to the Plate lest they catch bad smelling, foul fish that only newcomers to the area would purchase. So they head past the waters close to shore, leaving a thriving, if dirty, marine community. Easy pickings for the threshers, who cluster here in greater numbers than any other place to gorge themselves.
“The threshers gather in their greatest numbers during a young moon, such as on the night of the House Gale Purge. They tore the helpless swimmers to pieces while the crowd cheered, driving any who tried to escape back into the water. The whole thing lasted only minutes before House Gale was entirely erased, dragged into the sea.”
She had finally found what she was looking for in the book and held it open before Shay and Jon. “Here is an artist’s rendition of the Purge.”
The print was in red ink, faded and smeared, but Shay could make out the scene. It looked like a parade that had culminated at the harbor, joyous crowds dancing and laughing. At the bottom of the picture, bound men and women were being thrown into the waters, large fins circling. There was a hideous glee to the image. Her eyes kept straying back to the waters and the fins, many of them large and outsized for a shark, strengthening the tone of terror into the fate of those in the water.
“And the Sunken…” Shay trailed off.
“The Sunken are an extension of the story of the House Gale Purge. Over the weeks that followed, perhaps driven by the guilt many members of the crowd were feeling, stories began to emerge that some of the victims had escaped. The speculation was that, given we were at low tide, they were able to find caves under the Plate and escape the threshers.
“The story evolved over generations, as they always do. War drew many of the young nobles off the Plate not long after the Purge. The power structure of the noble houses evolved. Surdoore had several major immigrant waves and industry overhauls. But the central premise of the story remains the same, whether it is tied to the actual historical event or not. Folklore has the Sunken as a group of humans who were trapped under the Plate. They have changed to breathe water. They have all manner of fins, webbed feet, and the like, their appearance grotesque and frightening. They are frequently referenced as surfacing during the full moons and taking misbehaving children under the Plate with them. It has, in short, become a bedtime story to frighten children.
“Every year or so, another tale of a sighting emerges, usually near the harbor on a full moon. There have been several books capturing the accounts of these. They are fascinating studies of the significance of folklore to the working class and the historical trends that drive the stories. As you can imagine, most of the witnesses to a Sunken are drunk.”
She finally sat, having paced the room during the entire lecture. Looking very satisfied with herself, she asked, “Any questions?”
“Is it possible there’s any truth to the legend?” When the curator just looked at Shay inquisitively, she tried again. “Is it possible the Sunken are real?”
“There is no shortage of things we can’t explain in this world. How many years ago was it we were convinced there was no such thing as dragons? I would have argued that the Chalk were eastern folklore before they marched on Delhonne. But the idea of something human surviving under the Plate? I can’t think of a single place less likely to harbor life than the underside of this structure. No light, no air, and a high population of predators. Maybe a handful of the House Gale victims were able to make it to shelter and they managed to escape over the next couple days. I would be shocked if there were more to it than that.”
They stood, Shay dropping a few more coins on the desk of the curator on their way out and receiving a grateful smile in exchange. Once outside, they got into the carriage, Jon ordering Finn to drive them to the Laurent House site where everyone had gone missing two nights ago.
“What do you think?” Shay asked once they were rolling.
“I think if you trust whatever vision Madame Jane inflicted on Aaron last night, there’s some sort of depth to this. I just don’t really know what to do about it.” He took off his hat and rubbed at his face. The lack of sleep was catching up to him. “At minimum, we should keep a better eye on the harbor. And the path between the harbor and the Palace. If something comes, it seems like it will be from that direction.”
“Do you think this is linked to what happened at the Laurent House?”
“Certainly makes those fishhooks you found a little more ominous.” He stared out the window. “I want you to go to The Red Fish with Aaron tonight, see if we can learn more about this Locke. I’m sending Cal to a party over at the Club Diamond. His family name will play well there and he can get an idea if any of the nobles are sniffing out weaknesses at the Palace. Before you scatter, tell them what we learned today.”
“And you? What will you do?”
“I think, after we’re done at the Laurents, I’ll go back to the Palace and try to piece together what happened three years ago now that what Aaron saw gave us a little more to go on.”
“And do you trust what Aaron saw?”
Jon didn’t answer, just watched the wet streets roll past the window.
Chapter 8. The Special
The Red Fish opened just after sundown. Aaron and Shay arrived as the lamps above the front door were being lit. A hostess greeted them and led them back into the dining area. There were tables to seat twenty or so, but they were the only customers at the moment. They took a seat against the wall and looked around at the décor while the hostess fetched a bottle of wine.
The place had a nautical theme, or at least couldn’t avoid one this close to the harbor. Ropes, flags, and anchors decorated the walls. There were lit candles placed in the necks of wine bottles on all the tables. It looked like the hostess doubled as their only server, at least this early in the evening, but Aaron could hear quiet conversation from the kitchen.
She stood by the side of the table, absently cleaning a spot. “Tonight we’ve got pickled shrimp, oysters in vinegar, a harbor bisque, and grilled black drum, red snapper, or jack fish. What can I get you?” she asked.
“Harbor bisque,” Shay replied.
Aaron looked closely at the server. She appeared young and innocent. If this restaurant was a front for something else, she might not be in on it. Still, he had to start somewhere. “I have a friend named Locke. He told us about this place. Any idea what he would recommend?”
She nodded briskly and turned back to the kitchen. No sign the request was odd but no indication as to what came next. Shay leaned across the table. �
�You might be getting a plateful of live eel,” she said in a mocking tone.
“I’m not picky,” he replied with a shrug. “You haven’t been here before?”
“Yes and no.”
“What’s that mean, exactly?”
Shay shrugged. She looked around for a moment, then looked back at Aaron. “You’re Corvale, right?” When he nodded, she continued, “But you lived in Delhonne for a while, right? I’ve been to Delhonne. It’s a strange, rigid city. Everything has rules. Everything is clearly labeled. Everything is owned. You can’t lean on a lamppost without someone coming along and telling you it belongs to so and so and move along. Let me ask you a question. Why aren’t there any stray dogs in Delhonne?”
“Because the city offers a bounty on them.”
“You don’t have problems with rats?”
“Yeah, sure. But people keep dogs in their houses, use them to keep the houses free of rats. They don’t just have their dogs wander the alleys.”
“So another example of this rigid ownership and structure. Everybody has to know exactly who the dog belongs to. Or they kill it. I think the Plate is a little different. We have strays all over. I can recognize most of them. Their territory is constantly evolving. They fight for the good spots. For the most part they behave around people and take care of the rats. No need to worry about who’s responsible for which animal. The people here are kind of similar. There are ownership records and things like that, but for the most part if you’re using it, it’s yours. So, have I been to this restaurant before? Maybe. There was a restaurant here before, and I think it was called The Red Fish, but probably different owners, different cooks, totally different place. And that’s not unusual on the Plate. So, you know, get ready for some live eel.”
Alliance of the Sunken (Spies of Dragon and Chalk Book 3) Page 6