by Mike Wild
As the tentacles of sea rocketed high above the Tunritia docks, Emuel's keening stopped as he stared in awe at the lashing elemental tendrils. His panic returned in force, however, as the arms of sea whipped around the ship and found the men there.
One of them dropped his weapon as a tentacle of water snaked around his neck. Hearing the snap of vertebrae his comrade started to scramble down the rigging, but before he could reach the deck he was thrown clear of the ship, crashing into the side of a warehouse. The last man was picked from the foremast, where he had been standing frozen in shock. His bow dropped from his numb fingers as a tentacle of sea encircled his waist. He looked down as the ship receded below him and then, suddenly, he was the wrong way up and the sea was rushing towards him.
Kelos lowered his hands and edged towards the dock wall but the guard didn't resurface. The tendrils of water fell, lifeless, and Dunsany and a shaken Emuel emerged from hiding.
"I think that you found a new way to clear the decks. Don't suppose there's anything you can do for laughing boy here is there?" Kelos cast a silence spell on the eunuch. Emuel looked offended for a moment and opened his mouth, but his protest failed to emerge. "Thank the Gods for that. I didn't fancy boarding the Llothriall while he continued to scream the place down. Now, when we want you to sing, you'll sing okay? Kelos, lead the way."
On the Llothriall the three men stopped in front of a door at the bottom of the steps leading below deck. Dunsany cocked his crossbow and put his ear to the wood. He was raising his arm to signal that it was safe for them to proceed when twelve inches of steel erupted from the door just by his nose. The sword was quickly withdrawn and the door burst open. Kelos flung his palms out and a fireball thudded into the chest of the man who emerged, launching him backwards down the corridor behind him.
"Well that seemed pretty straight forward." Dunsany stepped over the felled guard, trying not to look at the smoking cavity in his chest.
"I'm warning you now that I can't keep this up for too much longer," Kelos panted.
"Relax, we're almost there."
Two more short flights of steps and a long corridor led them to the heart of the ship. They stopped in front of a reinforced door, elvish script covering its surface. Kelos traced the design with his fingers, muttering something to himself. Eventually he stepped back and nodded to his friend. "That's the advantage of designing the wards, I know how to counteract them. On three?" He drew a short sword from its scabbard on his belt.
"On three." Dunsany agreed, drawing his own blade.
As they charged into the room Kelos was flung against the ceiling. For a moment he thought that the boat had taken a massive hit but then he saw the man in the corner, smiling as he weaved threads of magic, muttering strange syllables. Kelos's windpipe started to flex and constrict as the shadowmage increased his hold on the threads. Below him, Dunsany was squaring off against the guards who stood in front of the magical gem that was the engine of the vessel. The stone, sitting in its housing of metal and wood, seemed to whisper to Kelos as he gasped for breath.
He watched as Dunsany swung at one of the guards and Emuel cowered by the door. Kelos saw the man tumble to the side to avoid the blow. Dunsany took the opportunity to fire a quarrel at his comrade, piercing his shoulder.
The man grunted and took a step back. Kelos could see that the injury hadn't slowed him, however, as - tearing the bolt from his flesh - he roared and shoulder charged Dunsany into the wall. The guard pushed his blade against Dunsany's throat and Kelos realised that it may all be over for his friend. But Dunsany gritted his teeth, reversed his grip on his sword and rammed the pommel into the base of the guard's neck. The man dropped and Kelos cried out a warning as the remaining guard stepped in to fill the gap. Dunsany failed to dodge the blow and the blade sliced into his cheek, flicking blood into his eyes. He staggered and almost tripped over Emuel, who was on the floor behind him, rocking back and forth. The guard took advantage of the stumble and swung again, this time nicking Dunsany's wrist and making him drop his sword. Dunsany raised his crossbow and fired. Kelos saw the mage in the corner blink and the quarrel turned to powder millimetres from the guard's face.
"I knew Makennon should never have trusted scum like you." The guard brushed the remains of the quarrel from his robe. "If you ask me we didn't do enough in converting this shit hole you people call home. Unbelievers should have been put to the sword a long time ago."
Kelos continued to gasp for breath, barely conscious now. The stone was practically screaming into his head and, with a jolt of realisation that briefly cleared his vision, he realised what had to be done. He gestured with his right hand and cancelled the silence spell he had placed on Emuel.
"Sing Emuel! Sing or we'll all die!"
Emuel looked up at Kelos and, for a terrible moment, he thought that the eunuch was going to defy him. But then, he stopped shivering and stood up.
"That's it retard, sing a lament for the death of your friends." The guard raised his sword. The sound that emerged from Emuel, however, stayed his hand.
The room shivered as Emuel's song reached out to the gem. The magical energy traced veins of midnight-blue fire in the stone and all in the room felt the ship shudder as it responded to the song. On Emuel's body the designs flowed as the song possessed him. The shadowmage stepped into the centre of the room and Kelos could see a dark warning in his eyes. He could almost taste the magic flowing from the stone now and, concentrating, Kelos called forth a thread of that energy. The mage below him realised what was happening too late. He tried to finish Kelos with a word but, before he could utter the syllable, the sorcerer had concentrated the thread of energy from the stone and blasted it into the shadowmage. The room filled with a searing light as his body burned. Kelos dropped to the floor and lashed out with his sword. The stunned guard didn't even feel the blade enter his belly. All he felt was the song and its ethereal cadences as it followed him into darkness.
Kelos put a hand on Emuel's shoulder. "You can stop now. It's over."
As the Turnitia docks fell away behind them, Dunsany nervously scanned the shoreline.
"Don't worry," Kelos said. "They can't see us. I've cloaked the ship."
Dunsany turned to look at his friend. Wisps of arcane energy surrounded him in a dark amber corona.
"Shouldn't one of us be piloting this vessel Kelos?"
"Actually, I am. And have you noticed something really strange?"
"Apart from your new hair-do and ruddy orange glow you mean?"
Dunsany looked around him and had to admit that everything was really strange. The sails billowed with the wind but were utterly silent, the rainbow sheen of the X'lcotl silk moving across the material like oil on water as it reflected back the soft light of Kerberos. Around them the ship thrummed with magical energy, veins of which ran through every part of the Llothriall. The vessel cut through the sea with a sureness and ease that Dunsany had never before witnessed in a ship.
"We're so still." he said.
"Indeed, the ship should be furiously pitching beneath our feet and we should be staggering around like two drunks at the end of a wedding party. Instead, we have this unnatural serenity. Deceptive really, as the power of the Llothriall is so vast that it should feel like something is happening. And it is, look back at Turnitia."
Dunsany turned. The coast was dwindling rapidly behind them, almost imperceptible through the spray and the mist. In any other ship it would have taken them most of the day to leave sight of the peninsula and, even then, they wouldn't have been able to venture too far from land due to the vicious and unpredictable currents that surrounded Twilight. But the Llothriall was not at all effected by the pitch of the waves. Instead, it seemed to skim across the surface.
"I'm glad that we took this away from the Faith," Kelos said. "I just hope that this hiding place you have in mind is as good as you say."
"Oh yes. And, once we reach Sarcre itself I can introduce you to our crew."
"And do they know
that they are going to be shipmates on this mighty vessel?"
"Well, not quite. But once they see the Llothriall they're not going to take much persuading. Talking of ship mates, where's Emuel?"
"All sung out. Sleeping soundly below. You think that boy's going to be a problem?"
"Nah. He's terrified of everything. He's too timid to be a threat. Anyway, there's no way for him to get back to Makennon now."
The sound of Katherine Makennon's rage was so great that the Eternal Choir almost stopped singing. The congregation who sat with bowed heads looked up from their prayers for a moment as they sensed the anger that flowed through the many halls, chambers and chapels of Scholten cathedral from Makennon's quarters. At his pulpit the Eminence's hand was momentarily stayed from making the sign of benediction.
In her private chamber Makennon stood over the priest who had delivered the news of the Llothriall's theft and, for the briefest of moments, considered having him excommunicated. But decisions driven by emotion were not becoming of a leader of Twilight's true faith. Seating herself once more Makennon resumed an air of authoritative calm.
"Why is it that Old Race secrets and artefacts have a habit of slipping out of our grasp? Don't these people realise that we are merely trying to use the knowledge of our ancestors to unite the peninsula and spread our message beyond civilisation?"
Around the room, the members of the faithful looked at one another, wondering if an answer were required of any of them. One cleared his throat and seemed about to speak, but Makennon dismissed his words before he could form them with a wave of a hand.
"It was a rhetorical question Rudolph. I do not require your observations. However... do you know whether our guest has regained consciousness?"
"Our guest Anointed Lord?"
"Yes, the marine creature we recently acquired."
"Ah yes, I shall enquire right away."
"Thank you Rudolph."
Rudolph edged slowly from the room, making sure not to present his back to the Anointed Lord. Once beyond the chamber he descended through the many levels of Scholten until he was far below the foundations of the cathedral. In a corridor lined with cells he stopped at a particular door and slid back the viewing hatch. The stench that poured from the room beyond made him take a step back. For a moment he thought the creature within had died but then there was the sound of it moving from its water trough and it approached the door.
"Prepare yourself to meet the Anointed Lord," Rudolph piously informed the prisoner.
He couldn't be sure, but the sound that came from the creature in response sounded almost like a laugh.
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