by J E Feldman
Kurago glanced up at the starry sky for a moment, seeking wisdom or some insight into the youth floating nearby, but the unblinking eyes of the stars gave no counsel.
“Is this your doing, Lord? Do you want this rascal to crossover for a visit?” Kurago asked in the dolphin way with much clicking and whistling.
The thought was preposterous, but who else could have put Damos up to this? His people rarely ever left the Hold anymore. The pressure seemed not to bother them. But Kurago knew his limits, and they didn’t include the Hold, which was no bad thing. Darodreds were a rather insular folk. Had one of them put that pain in Damos’s eyes?
Kurago dove under one of Damos’s arms and surfaced. As soon as his fin touched the inside of Damos’s elbow, the young Darodred’s arm muscles contracted to prevent the youth from slipping away. It was a helpful adaptation, and one of three Nature had provided for just this kind of duty.
Another spot, just a hair left of the dorsal fin, immobilized Darodreds for limited periods of time and the third, which wasn’t exactly a spot but had to do with their super-sensitive eyes, sent them into a deep slumber. Damos’s head brushed against Kurago’s back as they bobbed in the waves, and it felt right towing Damos like that. It was a little slice of normal in this strange night, but the question remained. What should he do with Damos now?
He couldn’t leave the young Darodred here. Ahead, lay the sea goddess’s locker. That deep trench was a boneyard running north to south from pole to pole. Beyond it was the kraken’s domain, and further off was the Veil.
Kurago could ask a whale to return Damos. Whales loved to put upstarts like him in their places and he would have a hard time escaping from a sperm whale who could swallow him whole if the whale so minded. Thankfully, the whales swore that Darodreds tasted funny.
But sending Damos back to the Hold didn’t feel right either. The youth was caught up in whatever was afoot tonight. Like it or not, he had to stay close by and under guard until Kurago figured out what was going on.
He swam in a circle to get his bearings and spotted a ship on the horizon. It was as large as a kraken and running fast with the wind, straight for the trench behind Kurago. If he didn’t stop that ship, the kraken would, and she’d kill the crew.
How could one dolphin stop a ship that massive while it was moving with such unnatural speed? As the carved sneering woman on its prow glared at him, a wind he couldn’t feel filled her black sails. The ship raced toward them, blurring as she closed the distance.
Kurago took a deep breath and dove deep, taking Damos with him as the ship bore down on them. They had to avoid that fast-approaching keel. Thankfully, Darodreds were easy to carry because of their sleekness, and the sea rendered everything weightless on contact. Since Damos didn’t require air, he couldn’t drown, but Kurago could. As the ship sailed over them, Kurago sent click-train after click-train at it, and the reverberations from them drew an image of exactly what he’d feared—the three-dimensional hull of a ship that was about seventeen dolphins long and four dolphins wide.
Too bad Omani wasn’t here to see this. Humans had finally come to this part of the sea. They must be after the Veil because there was no land, just miles upon miles of ocean and an ancient magical shield dividing one sea from another. Dolphin lore didn’t have many details about the Veil, just a cautionary warning about crossing that trench.
How would the ship’s crew even know the Veil existed, let alone how to find it? Kurago glanced at Damos. Did the parley spell even work on humans? Even if it did, Damos had never cast it on his own. He was always the recalcitrant recipient. But all this ruminating wasn’t solving the problem and it was wasting precious air.
Kurago swam to the surface in the wake of that ship, Damos in tow. A stream of bubbles raced past his snout as he slowed. Had the kraken crossed the trench or was there a shark about? Either was likely. The open ocean was a dangerous place even for apex predators like dolphins. Neither sharks nor squids possessed echolocation, which gave Kurago an edge, but sharks could detect vibrations in the water. Squids could sense something too, but no one knew what that was.
Kurago traced the bubbles back to his unconscious passenger, Damos. Since Darodreds didn’t breathe, his gills constantly pulled oxygen from the seawater and released the byproducts of that process back into the sea. However, his gills converted at the same rate all the time whether Damos was actively swimming about or resting.
At least those bubbles didn’t signal a new threat. But that ship was troubling. It was too far out to be crewed by humans. They’d never survive such a long journey, not when there was nowhere for them to resupply. Then who was crewing that vessel? How did it bypass the other Watchers? His pod, in particular, should have sent out a warning. Why hadn’t they?
Kurago tried to ignore the obvious answer. Since no creature had sought the Veil in generations, its current Watchers had grown lax in their duties. Instead, he flashed back to that storm earlier. Its sound and fury must have cloaked the ship’s movements. All the Watchers would have sought refuge to avoid lightning strikes, including his pod. The sea had grown so wild, he’d lost track of them during it, which had been fine. Now he needed to reconnect with them.
His eyes lit up with a blue glow as he initiated the parley spell. It had two modes—one for intimate mental chats with one or two minds linked together, and another for more general broadcast. Kurago concentrated on the second option and the spell reached out to all the Watchers, regardless of their species. He didn’t wait for the spell to connect all the minds within range. As soon as he had a quorum, Kurago sent an image of the ship.
In his mind’s eye, he saw the kraken lift a tentacle out of the water and flex it in a come-hither gesture. It was both a message and a warning. When that doomed ship crossed the trench into the kraken’s domain, it would sink it and kill all onboard.
Damos’s young face drifted into view. That young Darodred was still fast asleep. If Kurago hadn’t lucked out on spotting that strange bubble-trail, he might not have searched this area until it was too late for his young charge.
Voices clamored in his head as the parley spell worked overtime to connect all the Watchers’ minds. More than a dozen whale minds shone like beacons in the darkness of Kurago’s mind. They were relay points, boosting the spell to even the most distant Watchers. Bright threads shot from their minds back to a central hub connecting Kurago to the telepathic argument in progress. But he tuned them out as his gaze caught on Damos again.
Since humans were the distant non-magical cousins of Darodreds, Damos’s face shared the same structure and features as theirs. He looked like what he was—neither a child nor an adult, just a stripling caught somewhere in between. There was such innocence in his sleeping face. It tugged on Kurago’s heart. Damos was safe for now, but his distant cousins were in mortal peril.
“Aren’t they all God’s creatures? Does it matter if they are humankind or Magic-Kind, dolphins or krakens—they all hear the Call,” said a still, disembodied voice.
That was the answer Kurago had been searching for. Damos wasn't out here for the fun of it. Someone had called him out here and that someone might be the very God who lived beyond the Veil. But it could also be His enemy.
Damos stirred, but Kurago nudged him back into sleep. He wasn’t ready to deal with the youth yet. Damos pillowed his head on Kurago’s back and it felt good there.
Kurago unmuted the parley spell and a barrage of questions struck him so hard, he nearly lost his grip on Damos.
“Quiet!” Omani shouted, which was totally out of character for the unflappable whale. “Save the questions for later. Let Kurago talk or we’ll never get any answers.”
Silence fell grudgingly throughout the link, giving Kurago a moment to think.
“Come, my fellow Watchers, we’ve work to do. Intruders are approaching the trench—I mean the Line. They must not pass, but they know not what they do. They shouldn’t have to pay with their lives for their ignorance.”
The other islands, where the Shallans lived, would have to be watched carefully, but Omani was already issuing instructions about that to a nearby pod of whales. The last of the world’s population of half human and half mer-creatures dwelt on those scattered islands, and they must be protected at all costs. Humans must never find them; they must remain free to thrive.
Something really bad would happen if they all died out, but dolphin lore didn’t have any specifics about what. Apparently, Nature needed them alive and doing whatever it was they did. That was the sacred oath all creatures of the sea took, and Kurago knew they would see it done.
More points were raised and questions asked before creatures left the parley. Kurago stayed on that psychic link because he needed to speak to Omani. One by one, the others departed until there was only one whale left.
“Where’s Damos?” Omani asked. “Tell me you have eyes on him.”
“I do, but he’s not the problem. That ship is. Did you see how fast it’s moving?”
“I saw it in your mind, yes. But I assure you, Damos is more of a problem than that ship and its crew. He has gills and he’s a fast swimmer.”
“Not as fast as a dolphin.”
“I’ll grant you that. You are pretty speedy.” The link grew quiet until Omani spoke again. “Where’s Damos?”
“He’s right here,” Kurago expanded the link to include the snoozing Darodred. Maybe now she’d get over her fixation with Damos. He wasn’t the trouble they needed to worry about right now.
“What will you do with him?” Omani asked finally.
That was a great question. Beyond the Veil lay the Lands of Ever. According to dolphin lore, there was a direct portal to the afterlife somewhere on the other side of that magical gateway. Out here, they were closer to the divine than ever before. If blood must be spilled, it shouldn't spill on God’s doorstep.
“May I make a suggestion?” Omani asked.
“Sure. But please make it close by if you can. We have a long night ahead of us.”
“Indeed, we do.”
“Reef those sails!” Captain Arnel shouted from somewhere on the rolling deck.
For the moment, the wind was favorable, but the sea was roughening as clouds gathered again. Another storm was brewing right over their heads as two weather fronts clashed. Tyrgard staggered into the gunwale and held on as the ship canted again. Cold spindrift slapped his face and stung his eyes as he freed a hand to wipe them. Shehanna darted past him, her hand at her throat, where a blue glow emanated.
No doubt she was weaving some kind of spell as she ran, but he didn’t have the gift to see it, just a cold certainty in the pit of his stomach. He hurried after her and caught her arm as she rounded the capstan. Magic tingled on his skin, confirming his guess, and his throat closed at its familiar coolness. Cair-Lyon’s magic had felt like that. Tyrgard shoved the grief down. He didn’t have time for it right now, but he had a magic-eating stone.
“What are you doing?” Tyrgard asked her.
“Saving our lives. Let go of me.”
“You’re a sea witch. Aren’t you?”
At least she wasn’t a siren. Tyrgard suppressed a shudder at the mere thought of those mind-enslaving sea hags. They were bearded, tusk-bearing, fin-footed creatures that lazed about on some islands. For some reason, their songs only affected men, so it was the custom on long voyages to hire as many women as men, just in case.
“Did this trinket give me away?” Shehanna held up her pendant. The thumb-sized orb emitted a soft blue light, and her eerie blue eyes mocked him. “Look, there’s something out there. If we don’t mess with it, it won’t mess with us.” Shehanna pointed off the port side.
Movement caught Tyrgard’s eye. “It’s probably a whale or a pod of dolphins.” Because that couldn’t be a tentacle. It was too large.
“It’s not and you know it. This is the ship of the damned, and we’re the damned. But hell’s not claiming me tonight.”
Shehanna jerked her arm free and that blue glow jumped from her pendant to her hands as she sank into a fighter’s crouch. She was definitely wielding magic, but not at him. Spindrift sloshed over the gunwales and soaked them both, plastering their clothes against their clammy skin. Tyrgard had never noticed how lithe Shehanna was until now.
“What are you talking about? We’re not damned.” That cold dread was back in the pit of his stomach, and it put the lie to his words.
Shehanna narrowed her eyes at him and the wind whipped the braids that had escaped her black kerchief onto her face. In fact, other than the blue orb at her throat, she wore black from head to toe, like a thief in the night.
“Why’d you really come on this trip? You’re not like Captain Arnel. You don’t have a death wish.”
“For the treasure, of course. Isn’t that why you signed up?”
Tyrgard dropped his arm to his side so his sleeve covered his hand, which was unsheathing his knife. With its hilt cupped in his hand, he felt a little better about his chances, especially when the cold black gem that sat in its pommel touched his wrist. A shock traveled up his arm as that magic-eating stone locked onto her magic and drank it in, disrupting the spell she was weaving. Everything grew wavy as the curtains of magic she must have drawn around the ship at some point parted to reveal a giant tentacle. Oh crap!
“Look out!” a crewman shouted.
Tyrgard was already dropping flat on his stomach and rolling away from the impossibly long appendage that was falling toward him at guillotine-speed. It smashed into the deck, sending wood chips and deckhands flying, then it lifted and dropped another hammer-blow that splintered the deck amidships. The bow bobbed up and the stern too, but the damaged middle sagged as water poured over the gunwales.
Shehanna was gone. She’d either been washed overboard or was still somewhere, casting spells. Knowing her, it was probably the latter, but she was the captain’s problem now. The ship was taking on water. If it wasn’t sinking yet, it would be soon since another massive tentacle was hurtling toward the port side. If he could just get to that new-fangled harpoon gun and light its fuse. But that might be asking too much since everything was soaked, including the fire-striker in his pocket.
The ship shook as one canon fired, then another. At least someone was still thinking. The projectiles sped into the night and vanished from sight as another volley immediately followed. Tyrgard scanned the waves as he worked his way aft to the lifeboats. The wounded moaned and the captain bellowed, but the ship was beyond saving. It was sinking faster than the crew could bail.
Tentacles wrapped around the bow section of the ship and tore it free before tossing it away. The prow skipped across the waves like a slung stone before sinking out of sight. Another tentacle shot through the darkness and narrowly missed Tyrgard as he stopped, dropped, and rolled clear of its embrace. Others weren’t so lucky. A hand grasped his ankle and almost tripped Tyrgard when he rose.
“Help me!” screamed the wide-eyed sailor, a real seadog with mutton-chops and a perma-frown.
“Sorry, mate.”
His words fell on deaf ears. The tentacle had yanked the sailor overboard and another one took its place. Tyrgard lunged for the lifeboat, but another hand seized his ankle, and he went down on one knee.
“Leaving without me? You won’t get far without help.” Shehanna spat out the blood trickling down the side of her face.
“I’d rather take my chances with the monster.”
Tyrgard grabbed onto the lifeboat’s gunwale and let it take his weight as he kicked out. His unfettered foot connected with some part of her because Shehanna cursed, but her hand was still clamped around his ankle, and it radiated an intense cold. A moment later, his world turned a sizzling blue as her power slammed into him. A thousand needle-thin icicles stabbed him everywhere, reminding him of that time he’d dived int
o a frigid pool.
Tyrgard howled in pain as he let go of the lifeboat. He fell flat on his stomach and banged his chin. While he writhed like a fish out of water, her power kept shooting through him in agonizing waves. Why wasn’t she directing it at the monster? Through the pain and the teeth-chattering cold, that one question repeated as his world faded to gray.
Shehanna released her hold, but the cold of her power lingered in his bones. Tyrgard hovered on the edge of unconsciousness just steps away from the lifeboat. Its whitewashed hull dominated his sight. He didn’t even have the strength to turn his head. The monster hardly mattered now anyway. So what if it destroyed the ship? He was doomed to go down with it, into the sea goddess’s locker—the graveyard for all those who died upon the sea.
“You should have listened to me. My offer was genuine. Now, you’re nothing but fish bait,” Shehanna said as she patted him down, but Tyrgard couldn’t feel what, if anything, she took.
The ship was fading from his perception, and he was falling back through memory to that damnable night when his friend and captain had broached the idea of this ill-fated trip. Tyrgard fought the memory, but his consciousness was a guttering flame casting images of a better time on the walls of his mind. He turned his mind’s eye away. Life gave and took in measure; rarely did the two balance.
He should never have agreed to this trip. But it was too late for regrets. The darkness he’d been courting for years was coming at last, and he welcomed its relentless march. Hopefully, Cair-Lyon was waiting with open arms on the shores of the Dead City.
“I’m coming, love, sooner than either of us imagined. Wait for me. I won’t be long,” he said, and it was a relief to finally let go of a life that had been empty and purposeless without the love of his life by his side, even if that love had been a forbidden one.
A flurry of clicks and whistles greeted Kurago as he neared the other Watchers. They were supposed to be staging a rescue, but none were. Maybe the squid wasn’t through with the ship yet. They couldn’t get near it until she backed off. Hopefully, someone would still be alive by then.