by Tina Daniell
Tailonna reached Maq in a few strokes and could tell by the glassy look in the captain's eyes that the nerve toxin was in her system. The sea elf shook her head and pointed away from the octopus, trying to get Maquesta to back off to safety. But Maq was determined. Reaching forward with unfeeling fingers, Maq saw her hand close about the dagger. She pulled the weapon from Tailonna's belt. Maq brought her other hand about the small hilt, too, not wanting to drop the blade. Tailonna's magical light source helped her see the giant octopus, which had now turned so it could watch the two tiny figures in the water beneath it.
The sea elf began mumbling again, calling forth violet darts from her fingertips that struck the octopus near its mouth. Its lidless eyes grew wide and dark, filled with anger, as it waved its tentacles to carry it closer to the small creatures causing it so much pain.
At the same time, a determined Maquesta swam awkwardly forward, luckily dodging a tentacle, and moving up against the creature's head. Its massive eyes regarded her balefully, and Maq stared back at the creature, pulled her lip up in a snarl, and plunged the dagger into the nearest eye.
In the next instant, the sea about the Perechon became a foaming, frothing expanse. Tentacles thrashed about, and the giant octopus screamed shrilly, causing those on board the ship to cover their ears. The ship pitched, sending many of the sailors to their knees.
"To the oars!" Kof bellowed. Only those sailors closest to him heard the order above the terrible noise coming from the leviathan.
Maquesta and Tailonna suddenly found themselves being propelled backward through the water. The giant octopus was shooting a jet of water through its body. The burst of speed sent the leviathan away from the Perechon, and the backlash sent Maq and the sea elf bumping soundly up against the hull of the ship.
"Grab the rope ladder!" Fritzen called out.
The feeling had started coming back into Maquesta's fingers. Mustering what was left of her strength, she pulled herself up the ladder and fell forward onto the deck. Tailonna scampered up behind her. As Maq raised her head, she took in the destruction.
The mizzenmast lay irreparably broken, in worse shape than the mast Belwar had destroyed on the Butcher. The railing was nonexistent about most of the ship, and holes dotted the deck where the leviathan's tentacles had ripped up boards. All about Maq, the crew worked to pick up the mess.
Fritzen helped her to her feet. His eyes held hers, and this time she didn't look away.
"I thought I was going to lose you," he said.
"I lost my father," she replied simply. "The Perechon can't make Lord Attat's deadline now. The morkoth is at the bottom of the sea. And the only way we're getting anywhere is under oar power. It will take us weeks to get back to Lacynos."
Fritzen kissed her forehead. "We also lost Hvel," he said finally. "The octopus pulled him under. Beyond that, two sailors were injured when the mizzenmast fell, but their wounds are not serious. Ilyatha will be all right, too, if that's any consolation. He's in the armory, under a blanket. The sun burned his skin and temporarily blinded him."
Tears spilled from Maquesta's eyes. The price had become very high indeed.
For nearly an hour the only sounds on the deck were made by crewmen cleaning up pieces of the mast and folding the sail. Maquesta sat on the poop deck, looking out over the water. Vartan padded up behind her.
"At your request, we've organized teams for rowing. They'll be starting…" His voice trailed off.
A discordant collection of groans, wheezes, clicks, and whirrs issued from belowdecks. A loud, sputtering belch discharged, and a great gout of black smoke puffed up through every hole in the deck. Maquesta jumped to her feet and clamped her hands over her ears. The air became filled with a cacophonous clanking, grinding, squeaking, and banging sound. Smoke poured forth again, and then the Perechon jerked forward. Maq climbed down from the aft deck and dashed through the smoke. Standing at the side of the ship, she glanced over. The oars were moving. All in unison.
"Mymachineisworking!" cried Lendle.
The gnome rushed on deck, and all eyes turned toward him. A triumphant cheer went up from the Perechon's crew, and Lendle's eyes filled with appreciative tears. His clothes were in tatters, and burn marks were evident all over his small form. The tips of his boots had burned away, and his toes, covered with soot, wiggled excitedly. There wasn't much left of his beard, and his once-white hair was now as dark as Maquesta's. His face was smudged all over, except for a small track, down each cheek, that his tears had washed clean.
"MaquestaKarThonmymachineisworking!"
She rushed to the gnome and picked him up, hugging him fiercely and covering herself with soot and dirt in the process.
His face broke into a broad grin, and he talked slower to accommodate her. "Now we can make it to Lacynos on time. With one sail and my oar machine, we'll make better time than ever before."
"But the morkoth!" Maquesta cried. "Tailonna! Do you think the octopus is still down there?"
The sea elf rushed to Maq's side and gave Lendle's head an affectionate pat. "I think that octopus is long gone from these waters. Let me take a cable over the side and see if the beast is still in the cage. If so, we'll hoist him up. If not, we'll go looking for him again."
Maq shook her head. "This quest has been too expensive already. I'll not jeopardize another life on Lord Attat's creature hunt."
The Dimernesti nodded, somehow understanding what was going on in Maquesta's mind. She ran to the aft of the ship and dived over, hardly making a splash as her form cut through the water.
"Lendle, can you make the oars stop—without turning off your machine? Perhaps just raise them up out of the water so we don't go anywhere?" Maquesta looked into his bright eyes, hoping she wasn't about to make another mistake. "I'm afraid if you turn it off, you might not get it started again."
"Oh, it will work from now on, Maquesta Kar-Thon." Lendle was beaming with pride. "When you directed us to set up a winch and pulley on the aft deck to pull up the morkoth's cage, I had to take the big winch out of my oar engine. It seems I had a few too many parts in the engine, because when I closed it back up, and turned it on, it started right away. Of course, there is the matter of a little smoke."
"So you have a winch set up?"
"Oh, yes, Vartan and I did that while you were… busy underwater."
"And it looks like we're going to need that winch and pulley!" Fritzen was calling from the aft deck. "I'll need some help with the crank. Tailonna says the morkoth is still caged!"
Several long minutes later, Tailonna's head cleared the water. "I've hooked up the cable. And it looks as if the morkoth is decidedly unhappy about all of this."
As she climbed on deck, the sea elf explained that she'd had to chase away a veritable army of crabs that were hard at work trying to free the morkoth. The steel bars were tougher than their claws, and all the experience had done was make the little crustaceans grumpy, she added.
It took shifts of three men, taking turns working the crank, to pull up the cage. As its top broke through the water, Maquesta ordered the men to look away. She dashed to the hold and retrieved one of the old sails that she had stored in the event her new ones needed repairs.
Tailonna drew the material about the cage, so the morkoth could not look out of the bars and hypnotize any of the men. She left only a small hole, just large enough to slip fish through to feed the beast. And the hole had a flap of material attached to it, so when the creature wasn't eating, it would not even be able to see a speck of sky.
"Reminds me of an orange parrot my mother had," Fritzen mused. "The little bird was so loud that she had to completely cover the cage every night. She used a white sheet, and when I was a child I would have nightmares about the ghost in the kitchen."
"I dare say the morkoth is more annoying than a bird," Maq quipped.
"I'm not sure you could convince my mother of that."
"At least you still have a mother."
"Somewhere," Fritzen answere
d.
The cage secured to the aft section of the ship, Maquesta nodded to Lendle to put his oar engine into its highest gear. All of the crew had assembled on the deck to watch the gnome's machine at work. They anxiously stared over the sides, looking at the oars that hovered just above the water. Finally, the oars began to move, their oarlocks creaking. Slowly at first, then gathering speed and power.
The crew broke into spontaneous applause, and Lendle's blush could be seen even through the soot on his face.
During most of the next day, Lendle tended the engine as if it were a newborn baby, emerging from the cargo hold only to take an occasional bite to eat, and forcing Vartan to stand in as chef. The Perechon was making better time than ever before—and was also making more noise than Maquesta would have believed possible. She made a mental note to ask Lendle—after they arrived in Lacynos—if he could make the oar machine work quietly. She didn't want to ask him now and risk him doing something to stop it from functioning.
Maquesta and Fritzen stood by the helm, listening to the odd collection of sounds and watching the sun drop toward the horizon. It was the evening of the second day that the oar engine had been in use, and the Perechon, within less than a dozen hours, would be approaching the entrance to Horned Bay—its prize captive in tow, and more than a half day short of Attat's deadline.
Chapter 16
Resolutions
Clanking, wheezing, and belching gouts of black smoke, the Perechon pulled into Lacynos's bay shortly after dawn the next day, beating Lord Attat's deadline. Sailors on the wharf looked up in amazement at the wounded ship that was sailing smoothly but loudly.
Maquesta directed Lendle to cut his oar engine, and the ship coasted into the fetid waters in time for the crew to see a minotaur crewman throw the entrails of some large animal over the side of a schooner. Maq turned up her nose in disgust and was thankful that within a few hours Melas and the Perechon would be out of Lacynos—forever as far as she was concerned. She doubted the minotaur lord would put up any argument to keep the Perechon when he spotted the ship's condition and lack of a mizzenmast. Fritzen asked about making repairs in the port, but Maq only scowled.
"As soon as we have my father and Ilyatha has his daughter, we're leaving. We can find another port a few days away. Maybe it won't have as good facilities, but I'm sure the hospitality will be better," Maquesta told him.
Bas-Ohn Koraf stood near the bow. Maquesta could tell the minotaur had sunk into a deep state of depression. Before sunset his freedom would be taken from him, though she was hopeful Attat would allow her to purchase him with some of the morkoth's gems. Then there would be the matter of her father getting used to a minotaur crewman. That might be difficult after everything Attat had done to him, but she had come to rely too much on Kof to simply dismiss the minotaur first mate.
Once the Perechon was safely anchored, Maq sent Vartan and Fritzen to shore in the longboat—with a message for Lord Attat. He was to come to the wharf, bringing Melas and Sando along with him. The message further detailed that Maq would meet him on the deck of the Perechon, at which time the morkoth would be turned over to his care, ending her obligation to the minotaur lord. An exchange of prisoners, she viewed it.
Maq had no idea how the minotaur lord intended to get the morkoth from the harbor to his palace, since she thought the creature would die when taken out of seawater, but that was not something Maq intended to worry about. She'd kept her part of the bargain, and she didn't care what Attat intended to do with the beast.
She waved as Fritzen and Vartan eased the longboat toward the docks, then began pacing, anxiously awaiting the return of her father. She had so much to tell him. Tell him! Of course! She raced belowdecks to where Ilyatha hid from the sun's bright rays.
"Ilyatha," Maquesta gushed, "have you been able to contact your daughter? Is Sando all right?"
The shadowperson's face showed a hint of a smile. "My daughter is alive, though she is still in that hateful stone prison in the garden. The sun's rays are creeping toward her even now. But I have reassured her that she will not have long to wait. We will be together and free."
"And then the Perechon will carry you as close to your home as possible," Maq offered.
Maquesta was happy for Ilyatha, but needed to be reassured herself. "Can you touch my father's mind? Can you tell him that he will be back on the deck of the Perechon soon?"
The shadowperson shook his head slowly. "I can contact Sando from this distance only because she, too, is a telepath. And throughout our journey I was able to contact the ki-rin because he has a strong and magical mind—one far more developed than my own. My ability to reach those who are not so gifted is limited."
"But you knew we were escaping from Lord Attat's," Maq began. "You were able to…"
"His dungeon was at the edge of my range, as far as my mind could reach within his palace. He stationed me thus so I could monitor what transpired below."
Maquesta's shoulders sagged, but Ilyatha made her realize that the Perechon had made it back before Attat's deadline, an accomplishment of which she and Melas should be proud. There would not be much longer to wait.
Maq and the shadowperson continued to chat, about where Ilyatha and Sando would go, where the Perechon would be heading for the next several months, and whether Maquesta would try to buy her own ship. They pondered where the ki-rin could be, as they had expected him to accompany them into the harbor. But Ilyatha said his mind could not touch Belwar's—the ki-rin must be visiting another plane. When Maq realized quite some time had passed, she went up on deck. From the position of the sun, it was well into the afternoon—certainly past the time when she'd expected Vartan and Fritz to be back. Where were they? Had something gone wrong? Was Lord Attat biding his time, making her wait on purpose? Making her fret and worry? The crew knew she was nervous; Maquesta had done nothing to hide her feelings. They, too, milled about on the deck, waiting and watching their captain.
Tailonna paced about as well, though she kept her thoughts to herself. Finally, she looked up at Maq and waved.
"I do this as a gift to you, Maquesta." Tailonna grimaced, twitched her nose, and strode toward the bowsprit. Balancing on the railing, she glanced down at the water. Giving it a disgusted look, she held her breath, dived over the side, and started swimming quickly toward the dock.
Maq rushed to the bow to watch her, noting the sea elf darted around floating barrels, patches of insectladen scum, and the bloated remains of animals. She dived beneath other bits of refuse littering the harbor; nowhere within fifty yards of the shore was the water clean. When Tailonna climbed out on the dock, Maq scowled. The elf's once-beautiful blue skin was a dirty brown, and clumps of filthy moss hung from her hair and clothes. She futilely tried to shake herself off, and stared irately at the sailors on the dock, who were laughing, slapping their legs, and pointing at her.
To Maquesta, it looked as if Tailonna offered them some kind of retort, as one of the sailors jumped up and started running at the elf. Tailonna simply stepped aside, letting him fly off the dock and into the putrid water. As his comrades doubled over in laughter, the sea elf slipped into the longboat and rowed it back to the Perechon.
Tailonna waited in the boat and motioned Maquesta to drop the ladder. "I'm going into Lacynos to get cleaned up and buy some new clothes. Of course, you'll have to pay for them." The sea elf grinned. "While I'm doing that, you can visit Lord Attat."
Wait for me, Maquesta, Ilyatha communicated. I will brave the sun to see my daughter.
No! Maq thought harshly. I'll not let Attat find a reason to sway you to his side, to reveal what I might be thinking or planning on doing. You will stay here. I'll bring Sando to you.
Maquesta clambered down the ladder, with Lendle close on her heels. Before the trio could push off, Koraf leaned over the side and started down the rope ladder, too. "I am coming," he said flatly. "I will not let you go to Lord Attat's alone. I know the palace, and I know my master. I do not relish returning ther
e. But I have no choice."
Fingering the pouch at her side, Maquesta thought to herself that perhaps it would be better to have Kof along. She had plenty of gems with her that could hopefully buy his freedom. As the minotaur guided the boat back toward the dock, Maq thanked the sea elf and pressed one of the gems into her palm.
"That should cover some beautiful new clothes," Maquesta said. "And it should serve to get rid of the harbor stench."
"The bath definitely comes first," the sea elf said, wriggling her nose. "The harbor water is poisonous. Nothing prospers there but slime and insects and small, venomous serpents. The minotaurs should be slain for harming the water so."
Several minutes later Maquesta and Koraf strode along the wharf, with Lendle doing his best to keep up with them. The trio passed by one long dock after the next on their way to the main street that would take them to Lord Attat's imposing manor.
"MaquestaKarThonpleaseslowdown!" the gnome scolded. Lendle was nearly out of breath, taking four steps to each one of Maq's and Koraf's long strides. The gnome puffed and bounced along, his arms flapping out to his sides, as if, like a bird's wings, they might speed his course.
"I'm in a hurry, Lendle," she snapped back. "I'm worried." Her expression indicated her concern, but the gnome acted oblivious.
"Pleasewalkslower," he huffed. Then his eyes grew wide, spotting something Maquesta and her minotaur first mate did not see. "StopMaquestaKar-Thon!"
Perturbed, Maq halted in her tracks, and Lendle, who had not stopped walking, bumped into the back of her legs and nearly knocked her over. "Look!" he shouted, pointing out into the harbor. "Look what I see, Maquesta!" When it appeared Maq was too busy to be distracted, the gnome shook her hand and pointed again.
Finally, Maquesta turned to see what had caught the gnome's attention, and her heart sank. Anchored several ships over from the Perechon, in the shadow of a great caravel, was the Butcher. She couldn't have seen the ship from the deck of the Perechon. Which meant, she hoped, that the Butcher's crew—what was left of it, anyway—couldn't see her ship either. The Butcher looked nearly as bad as the Perechon. She saw a crew working to repair the mainmast, the one Belwar had ruined. Another group looked as if they were fixing the hole on the deck. A longboat was still tied up near the center of the ship. Perhaps no one was ashore.