by Raymond Cain
Many moments passed and Flynn turned his ship to leave. As he touched the acceleration lever, the blue light shined again. It lasted nearly two seconds that time.
“Dammit.”
Flynn took a deep breath and dropped the Searunner into the blackness. It felt like his stomach rose into his throat and fear gripped his chest so tight that he had trouble breathing. The lack of visibility instantly disoriented him. He had no idea which way was up or down but he maintained his course, trusting the ship to continue in the same direction. He peered in every direction, looking for cliffs and anything else that might collide with him but he saw nothing.
The screeching sound of clawed hands scraping against the hull stole Flynn’s breath away. The sound buckled his spine and the questions he had about The Abyss were answered—it was full of dark, ghostly creatures. What seemed at first to be blackness was actually a swarm of wispy, insubstantial beings. They appeared ghost-like, but solid dark hands pawed at the hull and pulled the ship deeper into the darkness. His descent quickened.
“Light,” Flynn said, trembling. He reached for a crystal switch in the ship’s interior. “I need light.”
Flynn hesitated. As terrifying as it was to have unseen creatures attack his ship, the thought of turning on the ship’s glow to see them better didn’t wasn’t appealing either.
Flynn flicked the switch and the light revealed a terrifying swarm of gangly, shadowy creatures. They were pitch-black, right down to the eyeballs, except for their steel claws. His heart raced, hairs stood up on the back of his neck, and his knuckles whitened from their grip on the acceleration lever.
The blue light he saw earlier was near and Flynn guided his ship toward it. One of the creatures wrapped its long black arms around the ship and ice spread outward on the hull from its metal claws. The frost sent a chill through the ship and he shivered from cold and fear.
Set into the cliff was a twenty-foot wide circle ringed by aquazite crystals. Flynn steered toward it and discovered an opening between the crystals, leading to an air-filled tunnel. Once he came within a few swimming strides of the portal, the shadowy creatures backed off.
The crystals’ radiance kept the shadowy creatures, at bay. Flynn floated outside the tunnel entrance and glanced over his shoulder—none of the beings seemed able to get near it. He desperately wanted to investigate the tunnel, but he felt apprehensive about leaving the Searunner behind. Perhaps Theoric might show up or the creatures were just pretending to be repelled by the light in order to trick Flynn into leaving the safety of his ship.
After some hesitation, Flynn donned his breathing helm and popped open the hatch doors. Many of the dark beings reached for him but they yanked back their clawed hands as though repelled by some unseen force. He assumed it was the crystals that held the creatures at bay but he had never heard of aquazite being used that way before. His breathing was shaky as he pulled himself into the water. The shadowy creatures vibrated with anticipation, and Flynn hurriedly swam through the portal. The water-repelling barrier in the opening was stretchy, and when he pushed through it, it felt as though he was forcing himself through thick sludge.
Flynn stepped out into an intersection of hallways laid with blue flagstones. Smoky, stale air left a foul taste in his mouth. A single whiff was enough to tell him the tunnels were well-used by many inhabitants dwelling in the area.
The portal entrance was located at an intersection of three tunnels. Long, straight corridors extended left, right, and straight ahead. Crystal lightdiscs were set into the ceiling and the thick dust on them bathed the halls in a soft, dim glow. Each path was equally worn and Flynn deliberated about which direction to go.
The clamor of armored humanoids echoed from the hall to his left. Whoever they were, they would likely consider Flynn a threat. He hurried to the right and flattened himself in a doorway. The group passed him by, marching determinedly down the intersection’s third branch.
Curious to know what creatures inhabited the area, he came out of hiding and followed them from a distance. Their armored footsteps echoed off the walls, and so did their laughter. He couldn’t make out their words but they sounded like his native tongue. It would be exciting to find a new human city but he swept the notion away. If Theoric had dealings with the locals, then they likely weren’t human.
Fear of discovery was setting in and Flynn quit following the group when he reached a section of tunnel flanked by a series of stone doors. The doors had rusty steel latches and he blew on the first one, giving rise to a dust cloud that covered his face and hair. He sneezed and clapped his hand over his mouth, listening for signs that the armored men might have heard him. The sound of the group faded in the distance.
The latch snapped off as he turned it. The door remained closed and after a brief pause to ensure the armored humanoids were out of earshot, he kicked open the door. The first kick nudged the door open slightly. He kicked again, sending the door flying open and creating a dust cloud that covered him from head to toe.
One of the rusty hinges snapped and the door scraped along the floor. The sound echoed off the walls and he stopped moving, listening for signs of anyone coming. The area was quiet as a tomb.
The room was empty save for a single object, a jagged construction slightly taller than he was. It was vaguely triangular but covered in so much dust that he couldn’t tell what it was.
Flynn put his hand on the object and it felt unnaturally cold. He smeared some of the dust away and discovered it was crafted from ice. Considering the centuries of dust that had accumulated on it, the power behind the ice’s enchantment must have been powerful indeed.
“Why on earth would someone enchant a seven-foot tall chunk of ice?”
Flynn smeared a thick swath of dust off at eye level and cringed at what he saw looking back at him.
A red-headed woman was trapped inside, her horror-stricken face frozen in mid-scream.
Chapter Seven
Flynn gasped. The woman looked to be twenty-years old at most. Judging by the blanket of dust covering the ice, he guessed she’d been frozen for centuries. He shook his head in disgust. “Why did they do this to you?”
Flynn withdrew his sword, a rapier once used by his father. Although rapiers were generally light, elegant weapons sharpened only at the tip, his father’s sword had a wide blade, sharpened on both sides from hilt to tip. Wavy lines ran along the edge, testament to its hardness as it was folded during construction. The hilt was a complex assembly of steel rings, reinforced with metal plates and decorated with gold filigree. The swordgrip was wrapped in stingray skin and there was an empty depression in the end of the pommel, a hollow that would likely remain empty due to Flynn’s inability to bond with crystal.
Hoping greatly that the enchanted ice was not hard enough to damage the precious sword, Flynn hacked at the ice. The blade bounced off as though he struck iron. After a dozen swings, his sword had not left a scratch. His eyes widened when he found a dozen new nicks in the blade. Due to its enchantment, the ice was stronger than hardened steel.
Flynn circled the icy prison, wondering what to do next. After a few laps, footsteps echoed down the hall. He stopped pacing and moved for the door. He risked a peek around the doorjamb and glimpsed a group of azurans marching up the hallway. They wore chain mail armor adorned with steel plates over the chest, shoulders, and thighs. Their white hair was tied back into ponytails and dark tattoos of skulls and spectres adorned their faces. Swords emblazoned with silver skulls at the end of their hilts hung from their swordbelts.
Knowing he would be easily spotted if he left the room, Flynn stepped back from the doorway and considered his options. Closing the door would make too much noise, and he would likely be discovered if he hid behind it. There was no way the azurans would walk by without noticing the room was broken into. They were getting closer and he had no way to hide the damage.
A deep, commanding voice boomed down the hall. “Why is that door open?”
“Orik,
probably,” a gruff voice replied. “He’s always going on about what treasures might be locked away in these rooms.”
The first speaker laughed. “Anything valuable would have been taken centuries ago.”
When the group was only a few steps away, Flynn ran behind the ice and crouched down with sword in hand. His breathing quivered as the sound of footsteps entered the room. He held his breath and his heart pounded so hard, he wondered if the azurans might hear it.
The clip-clop of booted footsteps approached the dust-covered ice and Flynn gripped his sword tighter, expecting to use it at any moment.
“Come on, Kornan,” the second speaker said. “Theoric brought in a fresh batch for the arena and I don’t want to miss it.”
“Any humans this time?”
“I don’t think so,” continued the first speaker. “Maybe next week.”
“Humans, pfft,” spoke a third azuran. “They always die too quickly.”
Flynn inhaled sharply at the remark. The intake of breath was easily heard and he silently berated himself for letting his emotions overcome his need for stealth. He clenched his sword tighter, expecting battle, but the clip-clop of booted steps left the room and the sound of muttering azurans faded down the hall.
Once the azurans were a safe distance away, Flynn came out of hiding. After a final look at the frozen figure, he entered the hall and walked back the way he came, the woman’s horror-stricken face haunting his footsteps.
Flynn marched down the hall and upon reaching the opening, he found the Searunner parked where he left it. The shadowy creatures in the depths maintained their distance from the opening and the vessel appeared undisturbed. He pushed his way through the ooze-like barrier and plunged into the cold, dense water. The breathing helm cast a faint glow and the ghastly beings writhed in anticipation as he swam for the ship. He slipped in through the open hatch doors, plopped down onto the liquid pilot’s chair, and sat back as watery seatbelts secured him to the chair.
With gritted teeth, Flynn angled his ship upward and shoved the acceleration lever forward. The vessel launched ahead, slamming into the creatures. Black bodies folded over the hull and his speed slowed as the jets were partially blocked by the wispy beings. Despite the Searunner’s bright glow, he was flying blind. After many tense moments, he pushed through the throng and burst out of the darkness.
Relief swept through Flynn when he left the fissure behind. After scanning the hull to ensure none of the ghostly creatures still clung to his ship, he pushed the Searunner up to full speed. He let out a relieved breath as he soared over land and leafy vegetation swayed in his wake. A giant octopus ahead must have sensed his presence because it released its camouflage and darted out of his way. The shining vessel burst through a cloud of ink discharged by the creature.
As his momentum cleaned octopus ink from the hull, Flynn reversed the jets to avoid a ten-foot-wide manta ray that crossed his path. He slowed the vessel to a stop over a coral reef, and watched in amazement as shrimp swayed their bodies to entice the manta ray to come closer. The predator opened up its gills and allowed tiny fish to swim inside, picking out unwelcome parasites. A pair of moray eels arrived next, inexplicably waiting with their mouths open as shrimp and cleaner fish poked around their fins and teeth, filling their stomachs on whatever they found inside the deadly creatures. Flynn was amazed that creatures on opposite ends of the food chain could achieve such an arrangement.
Resuming his course, Flynn left the reef behind and cruised over hills and plains covered in the corpses of ocean creatures. He cruised by goblin sharks, blue-ringed octopuses, and frilled sharks that paid him little mind as they fed on the remains of the marine army that attacked Seahaven months earlier. He turned off the ship’s glow as he came within sight of a handful of farmers that nervously gathered sea grapes and kelp under the protection of water golems armed with icy spears.
Flynn guided the Searunner in a wide arc around the city, dropping down into an area of dark fissures next to the dome. Little vegetation grew within the crevices and few creatures frequented the area. The lack of luminescent life resulted in dim, unwelcoming terrain that afforded Flynn and his brother a great deal of privacy.
As Flynn dropped the Searunner into a fissure, his ring flickered and a well-camouflaged stone door slid open in a rock wall. It opened into a water-filled tunnel. He flipped a switch, activating the Searunner’s glow, and guided his vessel inside. The scrape of stone against stone signaled the door sliding shut behind him.
With a spin of the steering globe, the Searunner rose up a vertical tunnel that led to an air-filled chamber. The aptly-named Pool Room was empty, save for the other Searunner floating quietly in the pool dominating the center of the room. As he neared the surface, he wondered what the city council would have to say if they knew the Arcturus family had their own private access to the sea. After the recent attack on their people, an alternative way inside the city would be greatly frowned upon.
After parking his Searunner next to his brother’s identical ship, Flynn opened the hatch doors. He removed his helm and climbed out of the ship, pausing to admire the two vessels as they bobbed on the water. They resembled blue, crystalline sharks with three fins, one protruding from the roof and two from the sides. Their magical glow reflected off the rippling water and shimmered on the stone walls. They appeared fragile, but their crystal hulls were as hard as diamonds and equally beautiful.
The years of mining crystal that went into those ships and other magical constructions left Flynn with a powerful physique for an eighteen-year-old. His chest and biceps seemed every bit as hard as the stone he chipped away at since he was a boy. His workload was lightened in recent weeks as his brother created new water golems to assist with the mining process, but it still consumed much of his time and energy. Seagrass baskets containing leftover aquazite shards dominated shelves along the walls and he withdrew a handful of the precious substance. Crystal shards and dust poured from his fist like a glittering waterfall.
Flynn brushed the dust from his hands. “We should really build a vault for this stuff.”
As he marched toward what appeared to be an ordinary stone wall, Flynn’s ring flickered. An enormous stone slab glided along water-covered grooves, revealing a hidden entrance into his brother’s laboratory. The air was moist, and musky from the smell of hard work and poor hygiene.
Stone tables laden with metal parts dominated most of the floor, but the most striking item in the room was a wall-less aquarium. The thick pane of water bulged with exotic fish, and Flynn dragged his fingers along its cool surface. Translucent jellyfish and comb jellies floated inside, keeping themselves aloft with the rhythmic waving of their tentacles. Weaving between the tentacles was a barreleye fish, so-named for its tubular eyes. The barreleye was a bizarre-looking species with a transparent head, and it struck Flynn as odd that it was named after its eyes rather than its skull. Other creatures with bulbous eyes, thick lips, or shimmering colors swam within the confines of the unusual aquarium. Flynn narrowed his eyes at the rarest specimen in the tank, a lightning fish. Electricity flared in the heart of the transparent, spherical creature, and it zapped a blue-ringed octopus that ventured too near.
Flynn navigated between a great number of mundane and unusual items strewn about the floor. Worktables were filled with holding trays of tools that cut, grinded, and polished aquazite. Standing before a door on the opposite end of the room were a pair of eight-foot tall water golems armored in icy plates. Unlike most of the water golems he’d seen, their features were intricately crafted, complete with eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. They wielded ice spears and their liquid muscles seemed to flex slightly as they turned toward Flynn. A dozen more water golems were crammed around two of the worktables.
Flynn’s brother, Tasker, sat in a chair crafted entirely from water. It cast a soft blue glow and it reshaped itself to fit the contours of his body, much like the chairs in the Searunners. He was a slender man in his early twenties with a mop
of unruly black hair and many days’ growth on his cheeks. He wore kelp work clothes covered in pockets and a crystal helm with seven watery tentacles protruding from it. Two of the helm’s tentacles cast a bright glow, illuminating the work area. A second pair of tentacles held a pair of thick lenses, and they made Tasker’s eyes seem much larger. The remaining tentacles hung listlessly, as though waiting impatiently to be assigned a task of their own.
Tasker was up to his elbows in a blob of water that was slowly taking on a humanoid shape. To get his brother’s attention, Flynn kicked an aquazite-tipped scraper that was carelessly left on the floor. Tasker flinched and the water figure he was working on returned to a blob-like state.
Tasker glared at Flynn. “You blundering idiot! Do you know how long it takes to make these golems? I’ll have to start this one over.”
His brother’s glaring brown eyes tripled in size behind the liquid magnifying glasses balanced on his nose, and it took tremendous willpower not to laugh, “I tried to knock,” Flynn said, regarding the crossed-tridents ring he wore. “But the door opened as soon as my hand came near.”
Tasker scowled and the liquid lenses dropped away, briefly making his downturned mouth appear much larger. Flynn stifled another laugh.
“Walk louder next time.”
Flynn’s irritation over his brother’s tone was matched by the lack of concern about his welfare. “Are you at all concerned about why you haven’t seen me for a few days?”
Tasker glanced up and to the left, as though trying to recall a memory. “Not really. Were you gone?”
Flynn clenched his fists. “Or the fact that my face is bruised and swollen?”
“What do you require—a hug? Those are hardly unusual findings on a member of the Citadel, and I’m too busy for conversation. I’ve been commissioned to build one hundred of these,” Tasker went on, gesturing toward the small crowd of water golems crammed together before him. “And thanks to you, I’ve fallen behind.”