by A F Stewart
“Give us a real tune, lad!” Anders shouted from the wheel, “Sing, lad! Sing! I’m sick to dog tired of all this sea-washed moping!”
A grin near split Davy’s face. “Yes, sir! A song straightaway, sir!” His foot started tapping the deck boards. “I know just the one.” A sweet sound bubbled from his throat and harmony burst into the sunshine.
From the Outer Islands
we sailors do hail.
Chase the wind easterly,
good weather prevails.
The crew let out a shout and joined in for the chorus.
We chase the wind easterly,
good weather prevails.
Davy gave a whoop and continued, the deck crew singing with him in a rousing cacophony of off-key revelry.
Farewell to the farmland
of that we want none.
We’re rovers and rogues
‘til our sea days be done.
And chase the wind easterly,
good weather prevails.
On waves and through storm,
over deck boards we tread.
We sail those dark seas.
Ain’t nothing we dread!
And chase the wind easterly,
good weather prevails.
And chase the wind easterly,
good weather prevails.
The voices soared on the wind, racing upward towards the clouds. For an incandescent instant, the world seemed perfect, melded with camaraderie and harmony. For a moment, the impending trouble washed away in a song. But only for a moment.
For the clock ticked past, and the sky rent in a flash of radiance like lightning though no black clouds threatened and no storm hovered on the horizon. Every voice on the Jewel silenced. The wind stilled and the sails lost their billow. The speed of the ship slowed, and every man felt the terrible hush. Another flash of light—not sunlight nor squall, but white incandescence—washed over the ship’s bow. Then the silver shadow of the moon crossed the dappled clouds. A screech, born of the deepest darkest torment, shook sea, sky, and ship before all fell silent once more.
Rafe’s rushing footsteps broke the quiet as he dashed out onto the deck. A further scream splintered across the sky and seas, and Rafe skidded to a stop.
“I’ve come for you, brother! Come to make you pay at last!”
An explosion of frosted pale spread from the sky and she appeared, floating against the clouds just beyond the vessel. The Goddess of the Moon shrieked with a burst of prickly laughter, spreading her arms wide above her head, and tossing her unkempt mane of silver hair. On her arm, scratched runes pulsed a deep red.
“My time has come, oh brother! Face me, or I will destroy everything in this world starting with your precious ship!”
Rafe snarled and, in a glow of resplendent blue, leapt into the air. He shot upward on a streak of energy to confront his sister. He skidded to a stop among wisps of airy vapour, hovering a few feet from her, matching her anger face to face.
“Why are you here? Why now? Haven’t you done enough? Go back to your island, sister!”
The Goddess of the Moon bowed her head. She uttered her next words in crisp, clear tones. “No, brother. I have not done enough. Never enough! Until you are dead, dead, dead!”
She lifted her head, her eyes burning with a white-hot glow, and a tremendous force of energy swelled from within her entire essence. In the space of a whisper and a heartbeat, she propelled that force directly at Rafe.
Taken unawares, Rafe did little to defend himself and the power hit him full on, smashing him across the sky and driving him down into the sea. The water swallowed him, waves crashing in his wake, and the dark cold pulling him farther into its deep embrace. Through the watery expanse, he could hear the cry of monsters.
Small fractions of panic, and then, swimming frantically up towards the sun, he ascended—fighting the taste of salt, the icy wet, darting fish, and the always, ever-booming scream of beasts—until he broke the surface, gasping pure air and a growing rage. Around him the seas boiled blue as he summoned his power, rising on a tide of magic straight at his sister.
Like a flaming arrow, he careened into her as she countered with a defensive wall of her own power. The impact resounded akin to a ship colliding into submerged rocks and sent them both spinning through the sky. The air shivered with the boom and snapping echo of impacting energy.
On the trailing spirals of magic, Rafe halted his skidding trajectory and scanned the sky for his sister. She laughed and swooped among the clouds, little affected by their skirmish. He took a breath, tasting the copper tang of blood in his mouth. A shiver vibrated along his bones. She was stronger than she should be, stronger than the magic her moon powers granted her. The unsettling thought that she played with him sprung into his mind.
He edged closer, his voice launching questions across the divide that separated them. “Who have you aligned with, sister? What malignant entity augments your power?”
More laughter trilled across the vaporous clouds.
“Caw, caw. Birdie blight.
Feathers black, dark as night.
Oldest born, full of scorn,
Your fate forlorn.”
She spun left and dashed forward on a conduit of alabaster moon magic, closing the gap between the two. “Silly brother. Birdie pulls the strings, but I’m the one who stings.” She flung her arms up—red runes pounding on her skin—and screamed. A deep guttural yowl that made the wind weep and the air revolve in a whirlwind.
The twisting tempests battered Rafe, tossing him like a toy ship lost at sea, and the rains pummelled him from above. He mustered forth blazing threads of magic and struck back against the storms to break free into clearer sky. He inhaled, and a hand grasped his shoulder. The grinning face of his sister stared at Rafe.
“Time to pay, brother, for your sins.”
With a smile, she continually poured every scrap of moon magic and the power of the runes into Rafe.
His scream shattered the surrounding clouds, their vapour dissolving like morning mist in the noonday sun, and the air trembled as repeated shrieks of torment ripped from his throat. Cascades of sparks lit up the empyrean firmament in god-born irradiation, the power of the Moon Goddess grinding its way into Rafe’s body. Bone shuddered, muscles jerked in spasms, and his blood sizzled with the influx of her magic.
Maniac laughter gushed from the Goddess of the Moon, chasing her dominion over her brother as she roasted and tortured him. “Die, die, die! No more brother! No more brother!” Power beyond the scope of the gods gushed from her madness, the runes on her arms pulsing a vivid, gleaming crimson. In the cacophony of cackling and sizzling flesh, she never heard the whoosh of the harpoon fired from the Celestial Jewel.
The iron and wood projectile pierced the cocoon of magic surrounding both gods and ruptured into an exploding ball of flame. It did little damage to either being but served as distraction enough to halt the Goddess’ barrage of death against her brother. Unfortunately, without his sister’s magic or his own, Rafe descended from the sky, falling like a stone in a pond.
Screams and cries rose up from the Jewel, and an anguished shriek of ’Captain!’ followed by the blistering laugh of the Moon Goddess.
Rafe heard it all.
His mind fluttering with unconsciousness, his body wracked with pain, he still ripped a tiny hint of magic from his blood and cushioned his descent, spinning errantly towards his ship. He slammed into the side of the vessel, fingers clutching the rail in a life-saving grip.
Bleeding and broken and clinging to the rail, Rafe stared up at his sister, now readying to attack the ship. With his last scrap of voice, hoarse and shrill, Rafe screamed a desperate command. “Ring the damn bell!”
Rafe heard running footsteps and the clang of the bell as hands reached over the side and hauled him back on board ship. Above him, his sister screamed. He rolled on his back, his body alive with pain, and looked up.
The sight terrified him.
The Goddes
s of the Moon gyrated and shuddered against the power of the bell, but held her own against its magic.
“Impossible.” A whisper carried on desperation to the clouds. The Goddess of the Moon smiled.
“No, little brother. No. Never impossible. Black wings, magic sings.” With those words, crackling energy rained down on the Celestial Jewel.
In shrieks and chaos, the crew scattered amid the onslaught, magic raking gouges across the deck and sides, smashing into sail and mast. The foremast cracked with a boom, scattering the sailors underneath lest they be caught by plummeting debris. The upper quarter of the shaft toppled with another loud snap, taking out the topgallant sail, the port side rail and a chunk of the deck as it fell before finally sinking into the sea.
Rafe watched his ship smoke and sizzle as magic-born lightning spewed down on them. Fire ignited on the broken mast and the bow, billowing black smoke across streaks of silver. Shudders reverberated along the deck mixing with screams and shouting and running feet. Magic rained conflagration, and injured men fell, some not moving in their silence.
A rumble came from below, and Rafe struggled to his knees fearing another attack. Then a wave washed over the Jewel, precisely placed, dousing the fires. A waterspout shot into the sky, smacking the Moon Goddess from her victory and sending her back to the sea. The form of a naked woman rose on another wave and jumped nimbly onto the deck.
“Lynna!”
“Aye, brother. I was tracking her beasts and heard your bell. It seems I arrived in a timely fashion.”
“Timely indeed.” Rafe stumbled to his feet assisted by Blackthorne, who appeared at his side. “We were about done for.”
“You’re hurt! What happened?”
“Our sister.”
“She did this? Impossible! She’s not powerful enough to best you. She can’t—”
“Those days are gone, Lynna,” a chuckling voice echoed from the sea, and a great serpent arose with the Goddess of the Moon on its back. Its veined wings flapped the wind against the ship’s sails, and its mother rubbed the ridge on its head. “Stand aside. Let me finish him. I have no quarrel with you.”
Lynna stepped back, moving alongside Rafe and Blackthorne. “We stand together. Do your worst. We will stop you.”
Blackthorne drew his sword with an audible hiss, and several of the Jewel’s sailors followed his example.
“Rafe lifted his chin and added, “We all stand together, sister. All together against your madness.”
The Goddess of the Moon looked down from atop her towering monster. She scowled at them. Her fingertips sparked with a white glow, and her arms gleamed red. And then...
Nothing.
She and her monster turned away with a screech and headed out to open waters.
Rafe let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.
Lynna grunted. “That was...disappointing. She didn’t even try to fight.”
“I know it doesn’t make sense.” Blackthorne’s puzzled voice broke in, and Lynna cast him a look. Blackthorne blushed. “I mean, ma’am, she was trying to kill us all moments ago. Why didn’t she try and finish us? With her power and her beasts...” He let the rest trail off, unwilling to voice the implications.
“She could have won.” Rafe said the words for his first mate. “So why didn’t she attack?”
Lynna shrugged. “She’s always been capricious. Even before. Best not to question it. Accept the good fortune. You’ve always had the most outrageous luck. It’s what saved you today.” She grinned. “You’re lucky I kept my promise to trail her beasts and heard that infernal bell of yours.” Lynna shivered. “I hate the sound of that thing. I don’t know how you stand it.”
“It’s an acquired taste, but you’re right. It’s luck we survived. Not something I can continue to count on. More extreme measures will have to be taken, I think.”
“Now doesn’t that sound ominous? Not something I wish to stay for.” With a laugh, she dashed for the rail and leapt into the depths of the sea.
“Not much for good-byes, is she sir?”
“No Blackthorne, she isn’t. But considering she saved us, I’m not one to complain.”
“Aye, she did. It was a close call, it was. Only...Now what, sir?”
Rafe looked around, his heart drowning in the broken bones of his ship. “Now we assess the damage, attend to the injured, and slink off to the nearest port.”
“We’ll be needing to attend to the dead as well.” Blackthorne’s voice came quiet, gentle. “At least two men fell in battle, though their ghosts remained with us.”
“Who?” Rafe tried to keep the pain out of his voice. He didn’t succeed. Hurt doubled, thinking they stayed as ghosts because of him and these troubles.
“Salty Eli. Quiet Peter. Peter died at the bell, but kept it ringing as a spirit.”
“He’s always been a loyal lad. He deserved better. As did Eli.” Rafe sighed. “Poor lads. We’ll bury the corpses at sea unless they want otherwise.”
“Aye, sir. Orders for the ship?”
Rafe looked up at the jagged wood that used to be the foremast and the dangling rigging. “The only thing to do now is clean up and patch up best we can. Rig new sails and brace the masts, with a temporary spar to replace the damaged one. Then put into port for proper repairs. We’ll sort out our troubles on shore then find a way to deal with my sister and her mess.” Another sigh. “And hope we survive.”
“Aye, Captain.” Blackthorne helped the still wobbly Rafe to lean on the nearby mast. “We’ll figure it all out, you’ll see. We’ll win in the end.”
FOG AND STORM CLOUDS assailed the island at the edge of the world. Overhead the moon shone in the twilight, though the sun caressed the lands beyond this rock in the sea. A goddess sat on the beach, making circles in the sand with a bone. She hummed to herself, a sad lullaby she had almost forgotten.
A crow chased by anger and storm clouds flew loops in the sky above her. Wisps of grey followed the bird as it swooped in for a landing beside the Goddess.
“You failed!” The crow’s enraged wail shook the treetops. “You could have destroyed him! Why didn’t you destroy him?”
The Moon Goddess didn’t look at the creature, merely dropped her bone, and curled into a ball, her face pouting. “I tried. But she came. They were too strong.”
“No, they weren’t! Not even together! He was weak! You could have killed them both if you wanted too!”
Now she looked at the crow, glaring. “Maybe. Maybe I didn’t want. No quarrel with her. With Lynna. Didn’t want her dead.”
The crow flapped its wings in a flurry. “She helped him! She’s the enemy!”
“No. Not my enemy. Only him.”
“Is he? Is he truly? You had chance after chance and he’s still breathing! I don’t think you want him dead either!”
“I do!” She scrambled on to all fours and shoved a snarling face at the crow’s beak. “I do want him dead!”
“Then why didn’t you kill him?”
She sat back on her haunches, her head bowed. “I-I’m not certain. It didn’t seem...right.” She sighed. “They defended him. They always defend him.” Her lip trembled. “But never saw before. Not with my eyes. Up close. It felt...different.”
The crow tilted its head. Its eyes staring, puncturing her soul like woodworm. “No, it cannot be.” The bird hopped up and down, squawking. “You care.” It almost spat the words.
“I don’t! Take that back!” The Moon Goddess glared.
“No, it’s true. Your heart...It’s not dead. Not like it was before. Not black and shrivelled. All light extinguished.” The crow hopped back as if she was contagious. “There’s a glimmer there now.” Disgust dripped from its hoarse voice. “You’re worthless! Worthless!”
“I am not!” She roared and swung her fist, smashing it against the bird’s head. With an outraged, squealing squawk, it rolled along the sand before taking awkward flight. It circled the scowling Moon Goddess, screaming.
“We are done, you and I! Done!”
“I don’t need you little bird! I don’t need you!” The Moon Goddess waved her fist and kicked at the sand. “Fly away! Be off with you! Take your gifts! Your power! All useless!”
“Bah! You are the useless one! Keep the magic for all the good it will do you! Your brother will come, and you will be weak! You will be weak!”
The Nightmare Crow screeched and flew towards the moon over the sea.
Chapter Fourteen
Consequence
THE FAINT STRAINS OF the keening lament reached the ship first as they sailed the battered and ungainly Jewel towards the harbour at Black Shoals. From the temple on the hill above the port, rows of priests knelt before the gate. They lined the pathway and entrance garden while wailing entreaties fled from their throats to the heavens. Behind them, a throng of the dead milled about and moaned.
“Well that won’t do them one bit of bloody good,” muttered One-Eyed Anders as he steered the ship towards port below the Black Shoals Temple.
“It might ease their fear,” came the captain’s reply.
“Well, it don’t ease mine none. That bloody bawling gives me the shivers, it does.”
Rafe remained silent secretly agreeing with Anders. The sound grated on his nerves like the hull of a ship scraping on coral. But those were his people. He limped to the rail and forced himself to watch the spectacle.
The welcome did not improve as they came in to drop anchor. Curses and glares from the shore crew met the ship’s heaving lines, but the sullen workers helped moor their ship, nonetheless. Jeers followed as the ship finished docking and then the men of the Jewel were left to their own company.
Rafe turned to face his crew, his face pale, his eyes full of pain. “Men, I’ll be going ashore to report to the harbourmaster and then to visit the temple. Blackthorne, Pinky, Davy you’re with me.” He gave a slight nod. “The rest of you, clear away any remaining debris and start the minor repairs. I’ll attend to the ship’s larger needs when I return.” Several murmurs shifted across the deck, and a few crew members eyed the captain’s still shaky state with uncertainty.