The Briny Deep

by Simon Archer

  Sailors muttered and shifted, but didn’t even try to impede me as I walked straight up to a man wearing the coat, hat, and insignias of an Imperial captain. As I approached, he pushed himself up to stand straight, even though the lower part of his coat was wet with blood.

  “Ye’ve no need to posture, Cap’n,” I rumbled and gestured up at the white flag. “‘Tis truce and parley.”

  The man sagged a bit and leaned on his saber.

  I scowled and pointed to two of the sailors standing around. “Ye two, get yer captain somethin’ to sit on.”

  They froze and muttered something, but made no move to act.

  “Permission t’shoot those bastards, Cap’n?” I asked the Admiralty man. From the smell of him, he wasn’t too long for this world unless he was treated and preferably by someone with healing magic, rather than just skill.

  “If they don’t get me something to bloody sit on,” the captain said quietly, “go ahead. I’ll consider it mutiny.”

  That got him a chair right quick.

  Mary smiled brightly at the two and said, “Thank ye!” before she moved to attend the captain.

  When he moved to wave her off, I said, “Ye ain’t long for the world, Cap’n, an’ I see no sign o’ yer own witch. If ye give mine leave to attend ye, we can palaver under slightly less trying circumstances.”

  “Fine,” the man sighed after a long moment. “I’m Captain Edison Sloan, of the Imperial Navy, and you happen to be Captain Bardak Skullsplitter, pirate, enemy of the Empire, thorn in the Admiral’s side, and the only thing standing between me and hell. I accept any and all succor you and yours can provide. The damned fishmen caught us unawares, even surprised the merfolk with us.”

  “Not sure if many o’ them made it,” I observed as Mary set to tending the man.

  After a few moments, she looked up and around. “Captain, if I’m going to save you, I need to hex you unconscious and take you belowdecks. If your men will trust me, I’ll make sure you live to see another day.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, lady witch,” Edison said dryly, then looked up at me. “Continued truce ‘til we can speak without risk of me dying?”

  “Granted,” I said flatly.

  “Good.” He smiled faintly. “My first mate is dead, but here is my order: All of my men are to stand down and honor the truce. This is a Sisterhood witch, and I am placing my life in her lovely hands. Do you all understand me?”

  A weak chorus of ayes escaped the mouths of the surviving crewmen, and four of them moved to help take Captain Sloan below with Mary trailing after. Once they were gone, I turned and glowered at the sailors. What in the hell was I thinking, helping these people?

  “Any o’ the rest o’ ye hurt?” I asked, crossing my arms maybe a bit sullenly.

  As men began to admit to injury, I sent Daka to signal the other ships so we could bring in the other witches and the shamaness. The Imperials seemed to be in shock from the fight, and aside from a few, they barely complained at their treatment. It seemed like they were resigned to being prisoners.

  Of course, I didn’t want prisoners. I walked away once things were organized with Tabitha Binx padding along with me this time. At the rail of the captured ship, since that’s how I thought of it now, Ligeia waited.

  “What did ye see down there?” I asked.

  “The merfolk fled, as did the sahagin. The lascu itself retreated down into the hole that is what you seek, I believe,” she answered slowly. “It was more caught by surprise than truly hurt, I fear.”

  “Will it be back?” I grumbled softly.

  “Likely, yes,” she replied. “We will have to kill it if we wish to descend into that thing you call a sea’s eye.”

  Tabitha let out a low hiss and glared off in the direction of the islands in the near distance. “I still mean to join ye, Cap’n,” she said. “If Ligeia be willing to give me her gift.”

  My siren hummed softly to herself, and I recognized the faint thrumming in the air as a sense of building magic. She was willing, but I think she wanted my approval. I gave both of them a serious look and opened my newly discovered senses to see what sort of feel I could get from them.

  Ligeia, I knew well. She was an elemental force all to herself, with an almost muted sense of emotion and self. Like the water, she ebbed and flowed along with the currents, going where she pleased and doing whatever took her fancy. Where Mary and I were concerned, though, there was a heightened sense of… not interest, but affection. Love.

  I blinked and lost the vision in the moment’s surprise. This must be another shamanic sense, an understanding of things and people that reached far deeper than their skin. Curious, I focused once more and turned my thoughts to Tabitha Binx.

  The little Ailur was ordered chaos. She felt everything strongly, be it love, hate, or whatever emotion might strike her. There was an abiding sense of loyalty and honor to her as well, and that same sense of affection that I felt from Ligeia. I could trust Captain Binx as I could trust Mary Night and Ligeia.

  “She can be of help,” I told my siren as I pulled myself back to the cold reality of our current plight. “If ye be willing, gift her.” Then I grinned, scooped the surprised feline in my arms, and kissed her soundly.

  For a brief moment, she stiffened in surprise, but it was only a moment. A purr rose in her chest as she wrapped arms around my neck and returned it. Cheers and applause rose from those nearby. When we separated, the pale skin visible in her large, triangular ears was flushed, and her breathing was quick.

  “I’ll be damned,” Tabitha blurted. “I hope that be a taste o’ things to come!”

  26

  “ W ell then,” Ligeia smiled thinly and turned an intense look on Tabitha, “are you certain that this is what you want?”

  “Aye,” the black-furred Ailur exclaimed. “I do.”

  The siren nodded, and her eyes went flat. My skin went up in goosebumps as she wrapped her arms around Tabitha Binx, then with a sudden lift and twist, hurled the small woman into the dark seas and dove after her.

  Binx managed a short yowl of surprise before she hit the water. I rushed to the rail and saw her struggle for a moment, then pale arms grabbed her and pulled her down. For a brief moment, I worried that Ligeia was going to kill her, but then I recalled how she’d administered her gift to Mary and me.

  Content that my siren had things well in hand, as it were, I turned back to look over the deck of the Imperial ship. A couple of tired-looking sailors gave me a fearful look from nearby, and I scowled. At that, they quickly turned away.

  “What’s the name o’ yer ship?” I asked as I walked up to them. The scent of fear wafted up, and I noted the faint trembling of their hands and voices as they looked up at me.

  “Fearless, Cap’n,” one muttered, quickly averting his gaze after his eyes briefly met mine.

  There was something both gratifying and disturbing at the terror my very presence seemed to invoke in these men. If I made a sudden move or let out a war cry, half of them would be in the sea before they realized what they were doing.

  “Hrm,” I grunted and turned away from them. The ship was a thirty-gun frigate. Not a bad vessel, and with the other two schooners, would damn near double the size of my little fleet, provided the men and the captains would turn pirate.

  If the captain’s attitude was any indication, there was always a chance. The men, though, mostly seemed to be a broken lot. Admittedly, the sahagin were a fearsome enemy, but they didn’t strike me as anything terribly scary just of themselves.

  Of course, I hadn’t seen two of my ships pulled down by a lascu. They were smaller ships, though, from my brief sighting of them, larger than The Black Cat but smaller than The Wasp.

  “I see you are testing your powers,” Adra observed in Targik as she appeared at my side, her bare feet silent on the bloodstained deck.

  “Aye,” I said with a nod, switching to that language myself. “The elementals seem to respond well to me.”

 
The notch-eared, tuskless shamaness gave a nod and smiled faintly. “Your powers will grow, Splitter of Skulls, and you have little to fear from the wind and the water. The dead, though, will envy you and seek to draw you to them.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “It means that should you walk among the spirits, you will find the road to return a hard one. Find out what anchors you to this world, and hold it locked in your heart. That will be what saves your life.” She reached out and took my left hand in hers and held it while her eyes searched mine. “Already, the dead reach out for you.”

  “That much is obvious. A ghost ship hunts us, Adra,” I said. “All aboard it wish me dead and gone.”

  She bobbed her head and made a soft, mournful sound. “All of us are merely in the way,” the shamaness said softly. “They seek Mary Night. She is the key that the skull-faced man seeks.”

  “Why?” I demanded. “Why do they need Mary?”

  “What is she?” Adra asked.

  I paused for a moment in thought, then answered, “A changeling and a witch.”

  “Part fae, part human, able to wield the magic of two worlds at the very least,” Adra added. “With one foot in two worlds, she can draw upon the strength of both, as we all have seen.”

  “What happens if Layne gets her?” I growled. It was something I would never allow to happen. The little witch was my consort and my love, and I would protect her with my last breath and beyond.

  The shamaness cackled softly. “How should I know? I am not he, and my vision only reaches so far in the fog that surrounds us.”

  “Whatever it is, can we stop it?” I swallowed back my frustration, though I wanted to roar and froth at the strange, spirit-touched woman. My teeth ground together as I held myself in check.

  “We can, yes,” Adra replied. “Three ways open before you, Splitter of Skulls. First, you could kill the witch yourself. Second, you could kill the Admiral and break his power, but that is easier said than done. Or, third, you could keep her away from him. Run, run, run away, and keep running for the rest of your lives.”

  “I do not run,” I snarled. “Not from the likes of Justin Layne or his pets, and I’ll not kill Mary, either.”

  “Then you have one true choice,” the shamaness said as her eyes grew distant.

  I could feel the spirits rise around her. An icy hand clutched my heart and breathed blasphemies in my ears as she continued, speaking in voices that weren’t her own. “Layne must die, but he is not the first.”

  As quickly as it had come, the shadow and cold vanished, and I was left facing Adra, a ray of sunlight fully upon us from a break in the clouds above. She raised her eyes, and a smile crept over her face.

  “A good omen,” she observed, then reached out and patted my arm. “You are still on the path, Skullsplitter. Make sure to keep your feet firmly planted.”

  With those words, the shamaness turned her back on me and walked off. I scowled at her retreating form. I knew that I could challenge her, especially since I was on the spirit path myself. I also suspected that it would be best for me to continue to share the respect that I held for shamans with her and just put up with the veiled prophecies and cryptic words.

  Hopefully, I’d never give advice like that, but if I became a shaman in truth, it was probably one of the requirements of accepting the power. The thought made me chuckle. I was a cagey thing, but I didn’t think I was terribly cryptic.

  It wasn’t long before Mary came slipping out of the aftcastle, wiping her hands clean with a bloodstained rag. Every eye on deck focused on her, and she paused for dramatic effect.

  “The captain will live,” she announced at last. “He is fine to speak with you as well, my Captain.”

  I nodded and walked over to her, then let her lead me back inside. Ligeia and Tabitha still had not returned, and Tiny was swimming a nervous circle around all of the ships now, with just the highest ridge of his shell visible.

  “You should not press him too hard, dear Bardak,” my witch whispered in my ear as we headed to the captain’s cabin. “He’s quite weak, and apparently his ship’s witch did not survive. None of them did. The sahagin targeted the Sisters specifically as soon as they gained the deck.”

  “That bodes ill,” I murmured back. “Tabitha and Ligeia are in the water. ‘Tis strange they’ve not returned.”

  “What should I do?” she asked as we paused at the door of the cabin as our eyes met.

  “What can we do?” I replied with a shrug. “I trust them both, and Tiny seems nervous but not dangerously so.”

  “Alert, then,” she said with a nod. “Hold course.”

  I nodded and reached to tap on the door. A weak voice from inside called for us to enter, and we did.

  Edison Sloan’s cabin was a spacious mix of office and bedroom, much like mine, though his decorations were far less orcish. Souvenirs from his journeys, maps, and drawings decorated his walls, along with several shelves of books. The captain himself rested on his back on a four-poster bed that was set off to the side from a heavy desk and leather-upholstered chair.

  “I suppose I should thank you both,” the injured man said quietly. “I am also not inclined to be anything less than direct. In the state my fleet is in, we’d be nothing but a short diversion for you and yours. The sahagin hit us hard, and I suspect less than a third of my men still live.”

  “That be what it looks like, Cap’n,” I said. “Those that remain are soul-sick, too. Less than a handful would likely even mount a resistance, should I decide to press the issue.”

  “I would much prefer to live to fight another day,” Sloan observed, “but I doubt that you’ll accept my first offer.”

  “That depends upon what it happens to be,” I told him, a faint smile on my face.

  He chuckled faintly. “Would you let us just sail away under the flag of truce? ‘Tis not like we can head to Avion. Layne would execute all of us as traitors.”

  “I could,” I replied. “But I've got a counteroffer. Sail for Jetsam under my flag and wait in port for us to finish our business. While ye wait, think about whether or not ye want to go pirate an’ join me.”

  Edison regarded me for a long moment in silence, then closed his eyes and chuckled once more. “Pirate, eh? Or have you something more in mind?”

  “‘Tis no secret that I oppose Layne’s plan for the Archipelago,” I replied. “Seems that if he’d have ye hanged anyway, ye might as well spit in his eye while he be doin’ it.”

  “You make a convincing argument, orc,” the man laughed, then winced and screwed his eyes shut. “I’ll make a deal with you, then. Let us sail, and I’ll consider your offer. If you reach Jetsam and we’re there, then we’re in. It might not be hard to convince the other commanders of it, either.”

  I looked sidelong at Mary. She’d perched on the edge of Edison’s desk and held her peace while she listened. If I took the risk and let them go, I could nearly double the size of my fleet once this was done. If I didn’t, I’d have to spin off skeleton crews to handle the captured ships, which would cut our fighting capability and leave us with three ships that were pretty much dead weight in the upcoming battle.

  “Done,” I said and spat in my hand before I reached out with it to the reclining man.

  A series of emotions flashed across his face before he mimicked my gesture. Our hands slapped together, clasped, and withdrew.

  “Would you be so kind as to send one of my sailors in? There should be a fellow lurking about near the door with black hair and muttonchops.”

  “I believe we can do that, Captain Sloan.” Mary pushed off of the desk and hooked an arm in mine.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly as Mary led me out.

  Once in the hall, I asked, “What be yer thoughts?”

  “I think ye made a good call, my Captain.” The witch smiled in the dim light. “I also think that ye’ve a good chance at a convert to your cause.“

  “Good,” I muttered as I shoved ope
n the door to the deck. True to the captain’s word, a muscular man with close-cropped black hair and prominent mutton chops stood close by. He was one of the only men left in officer’s garb and had a saber and a pair of pistols holstered at his waist.

  “You,” Mary pointed at the man. “Captain Sloan requires you.”

  He blinked and straightened at her commanding tone, almost saluted, then hurried off the way we’d come.

  “That was easy,” she mused and cast about the deck. “Should we get back to your ship?”

  I nodded. There was no more reason to wait around. We had a lot left to do, and our time was growing short. The clouds above seemed even more oppressive than they had before. Without waiting for her, I waved to Daka and Dogar and headed back to jump the gap from Fearless to The Hullbreaker.

  “Where’s Tiny?” Mary asked as she stepped up beside me.

  I froze and gazed out to sea. All the ships were accounted for, and we already drifted free of Sloan’s vessel. There was no sign of the Dragon Turtle.

  “Where in the hell are Ligeia and Binx?” I growled.

  “I saw them climb out o’ the bloody sea up onto The Black Cat, ” Jimmy called down from the helm. “Then, the siren dove back overboard.”

  “Good,” I nodded up to him. “We’re letting the Imperials go. They’ve nothing we want an’ wish to flee.”

  Mocker shrugged. “I figure our hands are full enough, Cap’n.”

  “Ye have that right,” I added.

  From above, the lookout shouted down, “Lascu ahoy! The bastard’s back an’ coming this way.”

  “Man the guns!” I bellowed as I took off at a run for the forecastle. “Ready weapons! Rowers! All ahead, let’s shove our ram right down that things gullet!”

  At the prow, I came to a halt and peered out across the dark, choppy seas. Something was undulating toward us in the distance, creating a swell of water over its vast back, and the lascu’s mighty dorsal fin rose proudly towards the sky. From one side, though, another massive dark shape arrowed towards the first.