The Never Tilting World

by Rin Chupeco

  Something unseen sucked him into the sand without warning, and the Hellmaker disappeared from sight. Panicked, one of the other men floundered wildly for the shore, and something scaled and coarse, with a huge bulging throat, jerked out of the sand and swallowed him whole. Stunned, Haidee and I both watched as the creature dove quickly back under the surface, leaving no other evidence in its wake.

  “Yeah,” I said shakily, “I really didn’t want to cross this shitty ocean.”

  Most of the Hellmakers had stopped short at the boundary, hopping out to stare after us. I recognized one of them—the asshole with the scar over one eye who’d tried to skin me the last time. His mouth was moving, and I could tell what he was saying wasn’t very nice. Grinning, I drove us farther on, leaving them bereft of supper.

  “It’s gone,” Haidee said unexpectedly. “The mirage’s gone.”

  I cast a look around, swore. She was right.

  “What do we do now?” she whispered.

  I gritted my teeth. Too late to back out or turn around. The Hellmakers would track us down again. “We head straight on, and hope it’s waiting for us at the other end.”

  “And what’s at the other end?”

  Hell if I knew, either.

  We drove west, anyway.

  Chapter Eleven

  Odessa of the Wildlands

  THE LUNAR LAKES WERE BEAUTIFUL—in a particularly ethereal, horrific way.

  Under Gracea’s rushlights they bloomed below us like glittering eyes. Individually, each was like a bright mirror whose surface occasionally rippled, the waters as pure as any I had ever seen before—a bright silver-blue sheen that the seas around Aranth had never had in all my life spent in the city, watching from my tower window.

  But collectively, they were an asymmetrical mass, an irregular cluster of holes in the ground that disquieted the eyes. When viewed all at once, they inspired not awe, but an outright sense of revulsion at the sight. Their repugnant geometry resembled to me an open wound that bled silver against the world’s surface, an amorphous beehive like I’d seen in old textbooks, one that dispensed unseen danger instead of honey.

  “They used to be one giant lake,” Merika breathed, nearly halfway over the rails in her eagerness. “But after the Breaking it splintered into dozens—hundreds, even. Not even the rangers have explored them in their entirety yet, but the original was measured at thousands of feet deep at certain places. It used to be teeming with aquatic life, but the influence of the Abyss has reached even here. They say whatever survived has been warped into monsters.”

  “What a comforting thought,” Noelle murmured.

  “My father used to tell me stories about the sun,” the young clerk continued sadly. “His grandparents would bring us to their vineyard, and we would pick fruit. He climbed trees to pick out these large red berries. I—I think I remember that, dimly. There were no monsters then. I don’t remember all the details, but I remember feeling—happy.”

  “Stop loitering, Merika!” Graham called from behind us. “I have more errands for you to finish before we land.”

  The clerk drew back, her eyes suddenly fearful. Lan touched her elbow, about to say something comforting, but then blinked and drew back in surprise.

  “I have to go,” Merika mumbled to us, then scuttled away.

  “Is something wrong, Lan?” I asked, puzzled by Merika’s abrupt change in attitude.

  “No. It’s nothing.” She glanced back down at the lakes. “That looks grotesque,” she said with a long shudder.

  “This isn’t your first time at the lakes,” Noelle pointed out.

  “Yes, but I’ve never had to see them from above like this before.” And then she swore.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “See that?” She pointed at the horizon, where a gathering of gray storm clouds huddled. “Acidfall,” she growled.

  “But Mother said the rains should have stopped by this time.”

  “Nothing’s set in stone in the wildlands. We can’t travel that route for as long as the acid continues to fall. We—” Her hands shook. “We have no choice. We have to avoid the area. Gracea,” she yelled up at the other woman. A strained cease-fire had existed between the two ever since our last encounter with the devil beast, but it made for a tense crew. “Tell the others to prepare for our descent!”

  “And where, pray tell, shall we be doing that?”

  Lan leaned slightly over the rails again and let her hand float along the wayward breezes flowing beside us, her eyes falling shut. “The riverwind’s end lies at the mouth of one of those lakes. I don’t know how steep the embankment is, but we can beach the ship and plan our next move, or anchor there and scout around. I—” Her voice broke, and so did my heart, from the pain in that sound. “The shadows I encountered last time were on the other end, toward the Spirit Lands. I can’t guarantee what might be lurking around this side.”

  Gracea nodded curtly. “Let me know once the lookouts find the spout connecting the riverwind down. From this height, it shouldn’t take half an hour to hit ground.”

  I couldn’t stand looking at the lakes anymore, and pushed myself away from the railing. Since we’d started sailing down the left riverwind path, no one had said anything about my returning to Aranth. There didn’t look to be any visible routes back; the unexpected change in the riverwinds’ course had affected all pathways, it seemed.

  The rest of the crew were nice at least, and were soon introducing themselves to me, giddy at the presence of a goddess in their group: Andre, Cathei, old Slyp, Lorila, Salleemae, among many others.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” I stammered, trying not to recall my utter insipidity from a few days ago. Attempting to entice Lan with a bathtub seduction was a stupid idea, but my inhibitions had been stripped away the instant my clothes had. Was there something in the wildland air? Lan hadn’t even noticed!

  In hindsight, The King and the Courtesan probably shouldn’t have been my main guide to romance.

  Lan nodded. “Stay with Noelle. However skilled Gracea and her crew are, this will be a bumpy ride.”

  It wasn’t long before one of the Devoted stationed at the prow called out, signaling that the spout lay in sight, and I scurried back to the stairs leading belowdecks, to get out of everyone else’s way. I’d gotten what I wanted—for now—and I didn’t want anyone changing their minds.

  “Noelle,” I said, “do you know how far we’ve traveled?”

  The other girl pursed her lips. “Not in any specifics, Your Holiness. But I do know that the Lunar Lakes are located nearly three thousand miles from Aranth.”

  I gasped. “But we’ve been sailing the riverwinds for two nightspans!”

  “Air currents carry us more swiftly than the speed that one normally travels when at sea. Catseye Tianlan opted for the land route with the last expedition, a journey that took them close to three months before they reached this place. The currents are considered far more dangerous than traveling by ground, but they are far quicker and we are somewhat pressed for time. We can stay inside the cabins in the meantime, Your Holiness.”

  “No. I’d like to see the ship descending, if I can. I don’t think I’ll ever be in the position to view this again, as Mother is quite certain to ground me for the rest of my life after this.”

  “Some might say seventeen years in a tower is already a punishment of sorts, Your Holiness.”

  Noelle’s face was a careful mask, but I smiled at her wryness. “My mother is a creative sort. I’m sure she’ll come up with something even more confining.”

  “Sails down!” The cry rang out, and the ship tilted ever so slightly forward; we had reached the riverspout. I wrapped myself firmly around one of the smaller masts, Noelle bracing against another post as the ship started its descent into the lake. My stomach plummeted from the sharp angle; there was no way to slow the ship at this point, and all we could do was rely on the crew’s skill to keep the Brevity from breaking apart.

&n
bsp; “Mother of Rot.” Lan was turning green again, fist pressed against her mouth. Her eyes sought mine out, relaxing when she saw where I’d anchored myself, and then she promptly gave up all pride to reach for an empty bucket.

  We had not thought about securing some of our provisions, however. I saw barrels and crates flying past, one nearly beaning Nebly on the head before it tumbled out into the swirling waters.

  With a loud splash, the ship landed right at the center of the lake, thankfully intact. The winds shifted and died down, an unnatural calm taking over. I was so used to the howling wind battering the Brevity the last few days that I wasn’t sure what to make of the sudden, eerie quiet.

  “Are we alive?” Lan asked weakly, righting herself.

  “I’m afraid so,” muttered Janella, who looked even worse off than the Catseye.

  “Thank the goddess.” Lan wavered slightly, looking surprised that the deck wasn’t rolling, and loped toward Gracea with the unsteady gait of one no longer used to walking on land. “I’d like some of the Seasingers to monitor the waters around us and see if there are any other creatures lurking in wait. Don’t let the silence here mislead you. There are more things hiding here than what you think you see.”

  Gracea frowned. “Graham, are there any sandbars nearby to beach the Brevity?”

  The man concentrated, bright blue eyes searching into the distance. The lake was large enough that we couldn’t quite see the opposite end, but that wasn’t a problem for Seasingers. “No,” he said presently. “I would suggest dropping anchor a little ways off from the spout instead. I do not believe the lakes are interconnected, and we may need to return to the ship in a hurry if there are other demons wandering the land.”

  “Focus on gathering what we can to start a fire,” Gracea ordered, “and scour the immediate area for any vegetation that we can study and possibly harvest. Seasingers, continue watching the lake for any irregularities. Again, none of you are to stray far from the ship.”

  “You’ll need a scout,” Lan said, as the rest of the ship’s crew began lowering the gangplank in anticipation of our disembarking.

  “Absolutely not,” Gracea said angrily. “It’s too dangerous for us to split up.”

  “I’m not volunteering anyone besides myself, Starmaker.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Noelle said immediately.

  “No,” I said, almost at the same time.

  Lan glowered. “I’m not asking you for permission, Odessa. I know the lay of this land better than anyone on board.”

  “That’s not saying much, all things considered. And anyway, I’m technically the highest-ranking member of this ship.”

  “That means nothing if you snuck on board.”

  She didn’t understand. None of them did. I had to be here. My presence was going to change everything, and they were too ungrateful to see it!

  And then my vision shifted.

  I saw Lan, bone-weary, gripping a silver brooch in one hand. Janella was draped over her shoulder—dead or passed out, I couldn’t tell. All too quickly the image faded again. What was that?

  “Odessa?” Lan asked, noting my pause.

  “Do whatever you want,” I shot back, frustrated and fed up. I could predict every single incident in this journey, but it still felt like no one would ever believe me. “And I’ll do what I want. That’s the only thing we can seem to agree on.”

  “I would advise you not to leave the Brevity, Your Holiness,” Gracea snapped.

  Some of the crew were already moving off the ship, so that command had clearly been made from spite more than anything else. “I would hate to disobey a direct order, Starmaker.”

  Her gaze was hard. “Do not think that I am as lenient as Tianlan when it comes to your protection, Your Holiness. As long as this ship is under my command, you will do as I say.”

  “Yes, Starmaker. I have heard of the discipline you enforced at your punishment of Janella.” She reeled back like I’d struck a blow. “But I answer only to my mother, and I will respectfully decline your suggestion.” Where had this newfound courage come from? The Odessa of the Spire would never have talked back to a Devoted with such brashness. The Odessa of the Spire would never have disobeyed.

  But the Odessa of the wildlands didn’t care.

  I loved it.

  “Come back, Your Holiness!”

  But I was already fleeing down the gangplank, startled faces looking on as I marched toward solid ground, with Noelle and Lan at my heels. “That might not have been the smartest move, Your Holiness,” the latter said quietly.

  “I’m already in trouble either way, so I wanted to tweak her nose while I was at it.” Maybe I was a new Odessa now. It was exhilarating, to feel like I was my own person without needing to answer to anyone else. The galla of clarity, and now the galla of courage. Perhaps the underworld was actually doing me favors. “She’s not chasing after me. Is she too scared to step on land herself?”

  “The ship is where she rules sovereign, Your Holiness,” Noelle explained. “She’s all too aware that Lan holds the respect of much of the crew. She knows the lay of the land better, and Gracea resents that.”

  “You’re pretty good at getting to the heart of the problem,” I said with a smile.

  “The politics within the Devoted are one reason I prefer to be the Spire’s steward instead, Your Holiness.”

  “Be that as it may,” Lan said, “it won’t do much good to antagonize her.”

  “Does that mean we’re okay?” I didn’t want to keep fighting with Lan. I wanted to kiss Lan. She looked flawless as usual, with her perfect hair tied back in her long, perfect braids and her gorgeous bow mouth and the way she kept looking back at me when she didn’t think I saw. But there were faint shadows around her dark eyes and she was paler than usual, and obviously this was the furthest thing from her mind. I was also all too aware that everything we did from this point on would be watched.

  She sighed. “For now. But I want you to stay close to me, at least. So many things can happen out here.”

  I switched to fire-gates and summoned more Air. Then I whipped out my own rushlights, just to remind everyone else that Gracea was expendable if I wanted her to be. It was only as the sparks drifted out over the ground that I realized how dark it was out here. Though there weren’t as many clouds shielding the sky as in Aranth, there were no stars out, either; just an endless view of black, shapeless night.

  I wandered as far away from the ship as I dared, just within the outside boundary of the swirl of Light Gracea had sent down after the group. Unsurprisingly, Lan stuck close. Catseye Sumiko hovered nearby, not quite intruding, but near enough to make her presence apparent.

  A sudden cry rose from the Brevity; I could hear Gracea swearing. “What’s the matter with her this time?” I asked, annoyed.

  “Your Holiness.” It was Slyp. “There’s been some damage to the ship. Even if we find a way into the other lakes, or get up another riverwind, we won’t be moving until the damage has been repaired.”

  “Did this happen during our descent?”

  The old man lifted his hands. “Could be. The bowsprit is cracked something fierce, and the yards aren’t looking good, either. We’ll be beached for a while, whether we like it or not.”

  I knew practically nothing about running a ship, but if Gracea was pitching a tantrum, I assumed it was bad. “It will keep her from killing anyone else, at least.”

  I turned to my Catseye and stopped short when I saw how pale she’d become. I reached for her hands, and found them cold and clammy. “Lan—”

  “The ship’s damaged,” she echoed. “And we can’t travel through the east because of the acidfall. We’ll have to—we’ll need to—”

  Journey through the western border of the Spirit Lands. Lan would have to travel the same route that had seen her team killed. I wanted to tell her it was going to be all right but didn’t know how to make her believe that—I hated feeling so helpless. “Surely there must be another way w
e could—”

  “I can’t!” The words came out her in violent bursts. “I’m not going back there! I won’t!”

  “Lan—”

  But she’d already turned away, her breathing ragged and eyes unfocused, back toward the ship and to Gracea. I moved to follow.

  “Stay here, Odessa.”

  “I’m not going to let you—”

  “Stay here, Odessa!” She’d never raised her voice to me like that before, with all the panic and the grief and the anger so very evident, and any rebuttal I was about to make froze in my throat.

  Catseye Sumiko looked back at me, silently asking for permission. I somehow managed a nod, and she scuttled immediately after Lan.

  “You have to allow Lan to process this, Your Holiness.” Noelle’s voice was just as soft. “She keeps it bottled up, but I worry that returning to this place will bring those memories back.”

  “But I want to help.”

  “Sumiko has experience in these matters. Give her the necessary space to try.”

  I acknowledged the wisdom of her words. What else could I do?

  Still, I kept glancing back up at the ship, wondering.

  “We may have to careen the Brevity if Gracea wishes to transfer us to another lake, but I shudder at the effort grounding the ship would take,” Noelle said.

  “Are you saying we’re stranded out here?” Merika squeaked. “We can’t return to Aranth?”

  “Of course not. It will take months to complete the journey back to the city on land, but Catseye Tianlan will at least know the way.”

  “Does she, really?” Cathei inched closer, lowering her voice. “They said that it took her a day to travel back from here to Aranth when the journey out took a dozen weeks. Not even she knows how she found her way back, or so they said. Did a monster carry her off and set her down near Aranth? They say she gave up her soul for safety, watched as everyone else around her was slaughtered—”