Wigg shook his head. “No,” he answered. “We had no Black Ship by this name-although her name could have been changed, I suppose. But I agree that she is much like theTammerland and theEphyra. ”
“You’re right.” Tyranny agreed. “But who built her? And how did she come to be wrecked on this ledge?”
Wigg pursed his lips. “There are two possibilities,” he answered. “Either some great force threw the ship here, or her crew purposely beached her.”
“Why would they beach her?” Tristan asked. “They could simply have reversed course.”
“Perhaps they didn’t have the chance,” Tyranny offered. “If they were being chased by something, they mightn’t have had that luxury. One doesn’t exactly turn these great ships quickly. Besides, the dead end meant that they couldn’t go on.”
“Well said,” Wigg replied. “But there might be another answer as well.”
“Such as…?” Tyranny asked.
Raising one arm, Wigg called the craft to send a narrow azure beam against one of the few remaining hull ribs. He held the beam in place for a time, then moved it back and forth with a sawing motion. Soon an end of the rib fell to the rocky ledge.
The three visitors and a host of curious Minions walked nearer. Nodding, the First Wizard pointed at the smooth end of the rib. To everyone else’s surprise, its freshly exposed interior glowed brightly with the distinctive hue of the craft.
“So the spells used to strengthen theIntrepidus remain in place,” Tristan said. “That’s surprising after all this time, but it doesn’t explain your other reason why she might have been deliberately beached.”
Wigg lifted an eyebrow. “Doesn’t it?” he asked. “I suggest you think again.”
Tyranny grasped the frightening possibility before Tristan. “It’s because of the azure water in the channel!” she exclaimed. “What we feared might happen to our ships happened to this one! The water seeped into theIntrepidus ’ hull and destroyed it little by little! That’s why it looks like it’s been eaten away!”
Wigg nodded. “It would explain a great many things,” he said. “And if this is truly what happened to theIntrepidus, the future doesn’t bode well for theTammerland and theEphyra. ”
“But we can fly our ships back,” Tristan argued. “With any luck, we won’t have to put down in the water again.”
“True,” Wigg answered. “But for all we know, theIntrepidus was in the water for no longer than were our ships-perhaps less. If this is what happened, I suspect that the damage is insidious, eating the wood from the inside out. And if that’s true, then by the time the damage is seen it might already be too late.”
“That could be what happened,” Tristan agreed. “But it still doesn’t explain how she came to be beached this way.”
“As Tyranny said, if they were being chased and they encountered this dead end they might have had no choice but to set her down on this rocky shelf,” Wigg replied. “In any event they would have done everything in their power not to set her back down on the water. But when they landed her on the ledge, her rotting hull gave way and she rolled over on her port side, marooning her here forever. If her crew was being chased, they might all have been killed. If not, they probably starved to death.”
“A precious Black Ship and her gallant crew, all lost,” Tristan mused. “What a terrible waste.”
Wigg placed his hands into opposite robe sleeves, then cast his discerning gaze up the side of the great vessel that lay there like some monstrous beached whale.
“Don’t be so quick to mourn either this ship or her crew,” Wigg replied quietly.
“What do you mean?” Tristan asked.
“Although theIntrepidus was likely built and skippered by mystics, who’s to say that they were Vigors practitioners?” the First Wizard asked.
“Do you have reason to believe that this ship was manned by Vagaries worshippers?” Tyranny asked.
“Unknown,” Wigg answered. “But the possibility seems equally likely.”
“All of which raises other questions,” Tyranny said. “What freed the subtle matter? Or did it somehow free itself? Why did it lead us here, and where is it now?”
Tristan took a quick look around but could see no trace of the beautiful material that had a mind all its own. “It’s gone,” he said. “We can presumably fly our ships back through the channel and reach the sandy shore, but what then? Without our subtle matter or a way to produce more, theTammerland and theEphyra must be left behind. With no way to build cradles for them, they will be forced to sit atop the waves and later suffer the same fate as theIntrepidus. ”
“And if theIntrepidus perished because of the water, we dare not salvage anything from her, because it might only make matters worse,” Tyranny said.
Wigg shook his head. “I disagree,” he countered.
“Why?” Tristan asked.
“Probably the only damaged parts of her were those that touched the water,” Wigg answered. “As one looks at the ship from the waterline up, she seems sound.”
Before Tyranny could protest, the wizard quickly raised a hand, stopping her.
“But do not assume for a moment that we might dare to start dismantling her and taking her lumber back to our ships,” he added. “I’m fully aware that such drastic measures would require much fore-thought.”
Tristan was about to reply when a Minion officer came forward to salute him. “Pardon, Jin’Sai, ” he said, “but there is something you need to see.”
“What is it?” Tristan asked.
“Human remains,” the warrior answered solemnly. “And some that don’t look as human as the others. We also found unfamiliar weapons and other war materiel.”
“Show us,” Tristan ordered.
As the officer led the way back across the rocky ledge and toward the theIntrepidus, Tristan soon realized that the Minions must have flown up along her damaged hull and entered through one of the many smashed windows to gain entrance to the ship’s interior. He resolved to do the same.
“I want three of you to fly us up the side and help us enter through the windows,” he said. “Then you can lead us toward what you’ve found.”
The warrior saluted and beckoned two others near. They soon had Wigg, Tyranny, and Tristan in their arms and were soaring up the black sides of the great ship.
Tristan found that viewing the ship from this perspective was an eerie sensation. He also guessed that trying to navigate their way through the stricken ship would be even more disorienting, for they would have to walk along the inside of the port hull as they searched her. Finally reaching the first row of windows, the warriors helped the three explorers inside. They let Wigg, Tristan, and Tyranny go and watched them slide down the interior wall until they reached the deck below.
Tristan was the first to go. Narrowly missing some overturned crates along the way, he skidded down the wall feet first and landed with a thud against the joint where the wall met the deck. He came to his feet to find that he was standing directly in the floor joint, and staying upright was difficult. He then saw Tyranny and Wigg come skidding into the room in the same fashion. Finally the Minion search party followed. As Tyranny and Wigg collected themselves and the warriors formed ranks, Tristan looked around. Because of the brightly lit radiance stones shining down from the cavern ceiling, the interior of the ship had ample light.
The room they had entered was huge, and its odd angle gave one the sensation of being drunk. Because theIntrepidus lay on her port side at about a forty-five-degree pitch, everything was cockeyed. Tristan realized that one could attempt to scale the sloping walls to reach the windows, but after reaching only so far, he or she would invariably slide back down again to land in the joint where the ship’s sides met the deck. Nearly all the objects in the room had tumbled toward the joint to create a long line of debris that was piled high in many places.
It seemed that they had entered the ship’s armory. Tristan easily recognized the uses for the war weapons he saw sc
attered about, but their designs were unfamiliar to him. Covered in dust and dumped along the length of the floor joint lay examples of the most beautiful and exotic craftsmanship he had ever seen. Some of the longer weapons like lances and spears still lay in their holding racks lining the ship’s sides.
Then he saw some of the skeletons that the Minion officer had spoken of. They lay about in strange poses as if they had been tossed there by the fates, their joints often broken and lying at unnatural angles. To a man they wore magnificent gold breastplates and matching greaves and gauntlets. Iron spears, metal shields, and odd-looking gold helmets with cheek guards could be seen lying about. Strangely, the dust-laden images on the shields appeared to be eagles with outstretched wings. The skeletons’ leather battle sandals and warriors’ skirts had long ago fallen to dust, leaving little behind but faint imprints to tell Tristan what they had once been.
As everyone started exploring, Tristan walked a few paces forward while trying to keep his balance. The task was not an easy one. Spying a sheathed sword still in the grasp of a skeletal hand, he reached down to pick it up. As he did, the hand bones fell apart and the leather tooled scabbard turned to dust, leaving behind only the metal weapon it had once protected. Wiping the dust from the sword, Tristan held it to the light of the windows and regarded it with an expert eye.
The sword was beautiful and marvelously crafted. It was shorter than his dreggan, leading Tristan to believe that it was made more for stabbing than for swinging. It seemed to be forged of soft iron that had been strengthened with coal powder, a swordsmith’s technique that was also common in Eutracia. But this was no Eutracian sword.
The two-sided blade still remained exceptionally sharp and had a V-shaped tip. Rather than a blood groove running down the blade’s length, as on a dreggan, each edge of the blade sloped gently upward to form a ridge running down the center, which would cause blood and offal to slough off during battle. The rectangular hilt resting just above the silvery blade was made of solid onyx. The handle was a cylinder of solid ivory with carved finger grooves that perfectly fit Tristan’s grip. At the end of the handle was a round ball of shiny onyx that prevented the sword from slipping from the bearer’s grip.
Lifting the sword higher, Tristan spun it several times through the air. It produced a distinctive hum not unlike that of his dreggan, and because of its shorter length it whirled faster. The sword was impressive, perfectly balanced and no doubt very costly to produce. To whom this sword had once belonged he could not know, but one thing was certain. From the looks of their weapons and armor these dead soldiers had once been a force reckon to with, perhaps easily rivaling the expertise and savagery of his Minions.
As he lowered the sword, Tristan noticed an inscription on the blade. It read:
CARNIFEX MARCUS
LEGIONUS XXIII
The inscription had no meaning for him. Looking across the tilted room, he saw Wigg examining one of the many dusty skeletons.
“Wigg!” Tristan called out. “Please come here!”
Wigg looked up and carefully wended his way over to where Tristan stood. As the wizard neared, Tristan held the sword up.
“What do you make of this?” he asked.
Wigg shrugged. “They’re everywhere,” he answered. “They’re finely crafted, but that one doesn’t look different from the others.” It seemed clear that Wigg found the skeleton he had been examining far more interesting than the sword and that he wanted to return to it. “Is this the only reason you called me over?” he asked.
“This one has writing on the blade,” Tristan answered. “Can you tell me what it says?”
His interest piqued, the First Wizard took the sword into his hands and held it up to the light.
“Carnifex Marcus, Legionus Twenty-three,” he muttered thoughtfully. After thinking for a few moments he handed the sword back to Tristan.
“The root of the wordcarnifex likely signifies ‘murderer’ or ‘scoundrel,’” he said. “And the wordlegionus clearly means ‘legion,’ or some other variant of a word describing a sizable military force. ‘Marcus’ would be a man’s name. These markings doubtless identify the sword’s owner-one Marcus, the great murderer of the Twenty-third Legion, or words to that effect. I suspect that if we took the time to inspect all of these dusty old swords, we’d find that each one bears a similar inscription. Where did you find it?”
Tristan pointed to the skeleton from which he had taken the sword. Wigg walked to it, then beckoned Tristan to come nearer. Noticing what was going on, Tyranny wended her way through the debris to join them.
Tristan and Tyranny grimaced as Wigg calmly bent down, grasped the skeleton’s head, and gave it a sudden, twisting yank. After the neck vertebrae snapped, Wigg lifted the skull high and blew the dust from it.
“I beg the Afterlife,” Tyranny muttered. “Why on earth did you do that?”
“It’s just as I thought,” Wigg said, his curiosity forcing Tyranny’s question aside. Holding the skull out, he turned it to face them. As the empty eye sockets glared at them from the distant past, they looked eerie, menacing.
“Does either of you see anything unusual about this skull?” Wigg asked.
Tristan was intrigued, and he walked nearer. Therewas something unusual about it, he realized. The skull was highly elongated. He looked back into Wigg’s eyes.
“It’s oddly shaped,” he answered. “It doesn’t look entirely human.”
Just then the Minion officer neared. “This is what I was referring to earlier, Jin’Sai, ” he said. “There are many human skeletons here, and some look like this one. This armory is but one room. I can scarcely imagine what we might find if we were to search the entire ship.”
“Why does the skull look like that?” Tyranny asked. “What was wrong with him?”
Wigg smiled. “There was nothing wrong with him,” he answered, “for a Blood Stalker.”
“That’s a Blood Stalker skull?” Tyranny asked.
“Yes,” Wigg answered. “Believe me-I saw enough of them during the Sorceresses’ War to know.”
“What were Blood Stalkers doing aboard this ship?” Tristan asked.
“Serving their superior masters, I presume,” Wigg answered. “In any event, we can now be sure of at least two things. First, this stalker was named Marcus, and he held the title of Carnifex. And second, theIntrepidus was commanded by Vagaries worshippers, for only they employed Blood Stalkers.” After setting the skull down, Wigg took another look around.
“If this ship could talk, her tales would surely be fascinating,” he added softly.
Just then Tristan heard several of the Minion warriors cry out, and he turned to look. The subtle matter had returned and was flying into the armory through one of the many smashed windows lining the tilted port hull. After all of it entered the room, the amazing substance gathered itself up for a moment and hovered above the dusty weapons, armor, and skeletons. Then without warning it divided into three distinct streams, and they headed straight for Wigg, Tristan, and Tyranny.
Tristan panicked as he felt the azure matter wrap around his waist and hold him fast in its iron grip. In moments Wigg and Tyranny were similarly caught up. Before Tristan could cry out, the subtle matter stream lifted him high into the air. Wigg and Tyranny soon followed him, and the three of them could only look aghast at one another.
“Don’t fight it!” Wigg shouted as he watched the others struggle. “We have no choice but to obey! If the subtle matter wanted to kill us, we would have been dead long ago!”
Tristan started to shout out something, but before he could, the subtle matter whisked him up toward one of the smashed-out windows. Wigg and Tyranny watched in horror as the azure powder dragged Tristan out through the window. Before he knew it, Wigg was taken out the same way, followed by Tyranny.
Dazed and frightened, the wizard and the privateer soon found themselves hovering in the air by Tristan’s side, directly over the narrow channel. Tristan could hear his warriors shou
ting from inside the ship, and the many others still on the rocky ledge started desperately running as they tried to come to the aid of theirJin’Sai. Some took to the air in an attempt to free Tristan from the subtle matter’s grasp, but Wigg sternly ordered them back.
For several moments the three captives hung in space and looked at one another in terror, wondering what might happen next. But before Wigg could shout out another warning, he got his answer.
The three subtle matter streams spun their captives around to face the dead end. To their amazement, the edifice started to rumble and thunder, just as had the rocky walls near the sandy shore when they first rose to meet the cavern ceiling. The captives watched breathlessly as a thin azure line formed down the center of the end wall. Then the wall began to part, its divided surfaces magically receding into the side walls and sending tons of loose stone crashing down into the channel. The terrifying space in between looked pitch-black and infinite.
Suddenly an awful wind arose, its force so strong that Tristan thought it might throw theIntrepidus free of the rocky shelf and into the channel. The waves rose to many times a man’s height and swayed violently to and fro, imprisoned between the unforgiving walls. Just when Tristan thought he could take no more, a vortex suddenly appeared within the depths revealed by the parting rock walls. It reminded him of Faegan’s portal, but this could not be Faegan’s work, for it was far larger than any portal that Faegan could summon, and its color was much more dazzling.
Soon the howling wind and the whirling vortex had become so overpowering that the three prisoners blacked out. As the wind tore at them, they hung unconscious in the subtle matter’s grasp, and awaited their unknown fates.
Tristan was the first to be called. Without warning the subtle matter holding him flew directly into the depths of the whirling vortex. His arms and legs flailing in the air, Wigg soon followed. Tyranny went next. When the three were gone, the vortex disappeared and the rock walls rumbled shut, leaving no trace of what had just happened. The terrible wind died, allowing the channel waves to again find their equilibrium.
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