Malock shook his head, trying not to look afraid, even though the sight of the skeletal hand still sent shivers down his spine. “I don't care what that means, sailor. Dig the rest of it up. I want to see if there's a whole skeleton under there.”
The female aquarian stepped back. Her face resembled that of a guppy, thus making the fear in her eyes evident. “No way, captain sir. I'm a follower of Diog, God of the Grave, and we Diogians aren't supposed to desecrate the graves of any dead being, human, aquarian, or whatever. Part of the Diogian Creed, you see.”
Malock sighed. “Fine. Does anyone else here have objections to 'desecrating' the grave of a dead person?”
The other four did not look thrilled at the idea of digging up a grave, but they nonetheless complied while the female aquarian stood back, looking even more disgusted than they did. Malock was annoyed at her refusal to dig, but he respected her commitment to her god nonetheless.
The party lacked shovels, so they mostly used their hands to dig. Forl showed some creativity by stripping off a large layer of bark from a nearby ikadori tree and using it as a shovel, but it still took them ten minutes to dig the entire skeleton up.
Or, rather, skeletons. As they cleared each layer of sand, they found more and more scattered body parts. Some were obviously human, such as a complete lower torso, while others, like the bony fins, were just as obviously from aquarians. Some of the bones were mixed together so thoroughly it was impossible to tell where the human began and aquarian ended or vice versa. Some of the bones had bits of clothing attached to them or some sort of jewelry, but the vast majority were bare.
Malock became so interested in this mystery that he actually got down on his hands and knees and started helping his men. He immediately wished he hadn't, however, because he immediately came upon a dreadful skeleton: That of a human baby, missing the upper half of its head, its tiny arms and legs with teeth marks in them.
It was so horrible that he stood up and, being careful not to look at the skeletons, ordered his men to stop and take a step back so they could see what they'd dug up.
When they did, it became clear what it was they had found: A mass grave made up of dozens of beings, humans and aquarians alike. It had obviously been there for a while, but how long, Malock couldn't say for sure.
“This is bad,” said Forl, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “Bad, bad, bad. There's gotta be at least three dozen skeletons, maybe more, and I wouldn't be surprised if this was just the top layer.”
“But what killed them all?” said the female aquarian, whose name Malock now remembered was Crina. “Maybe there's a tribe of cannibals on this island. I've heard tales of cannibals living on the southern islands.”
“Doubt its anything human,” said another sailor. “Look at the teeth marks on all the bones. Maybe a shark aquarian ate 'em or something.”
“Those aren't shark teeth marks,” Crina said. “These almost look like human teeth.”
“Impossible,” said Malock, shaking his head. “Human teeth aren't strong enough to bite through bone or even leave a mark.”
But he had to admit that her description wasn't entirely inaccurate. When he glanced at the baby again, he noticed that the upper half of its skull appeared to have been bitten straight off, the way a person might bite off a large chunk of steak. The thought was so horrible that he immediately rejected it from his mind and vowed never to think it again.
“Whatever it is, we need to return to the center,” said Malock. “It's been nearly twenty minutes and I'm sure that the others will want to—”
A loud, shrill sound struck their ears, a sound that Malock recognized immediately:
The whistle was being blown.
***
Chapter Five
Malock and his party didn't waste any time abandoning the mass grave. Soon they returned to the center of the beach, where they found the left party gathered near the boats. As soon as Malock's party came within shouting distance, Danaf looked up and immediately ran to meet them.
The aquarian looked terrible. His face was bloody and cut in several places. His jacket sleeves were torn off completely, revealing a long, bloody wound that made Malock's stomach churn. His webbed hands were torn in a few places. He looked so terrible that Malock was surprised he could walk at all, much less run to them.
“Captain!” said Danaf, skidding to a halt in the sand as they stopped. “My brother ... taken into the jungle ... couldn't save him ... please, help ...”
Before anyone could respond, Danaf collapsed face first onto the sand, the blood from his wounds staining the white beach.
Alarmed, Malock bent over and held Danaf in his arms, trying to wake the wounded aquarian. By the time Danaf regained consciousness, the rest of the left party had joined them, but when Malock did a quick head count, he realized that one of the sailors was missing.
“Danaf,” said Malock. “Where is Sumsa? Your brother?”
Danaf's face was partially crusted with sand, but he managed to say, “Took him ... the jungle took him ...”
Malock looked up at the rest of Danaf's party and said, “What's he talking about? What does he mean, 'the jungle took him'?”
“It is exactly as he said, sir,” said one of the other sailors, a human. “We was searching the left side of the shore, like you ordered us to, when Sumsa saw something moving in the trees. Sumsa's an impulsive lad, I reckon, because he went to investigate it even when we told him to stay back. When he got close to the treeline, a bunch of vines snatched him right in front of our eyes.”
“Vines?” Malock repeated. “That's impossible.”
“'Tis true, though,” said the sailor. “The others can confirm my story. Right, guys?”
The other two members of the left party nodded fervently. They looked a little better than Danaf, though not by much.
“What happened to Danaf, then?” said Malock.
“Ran after the lad, he did,” said the sailor. “A good big brother he is. Almost got killed, though, because it's as dark as night in that jungle. We went in after him and just barely managed to drag him out.”
“You couldn't find Sumsa?” said Malock as he gently lowered Danaf (who had fallen unconscious again) back onto the sand.
“Nope,” said the sailor. “Far as we can tell, the jungle took Sumsa and isn't going to give him back anytime soon.”
Malock cursed and looked at the treeline. The jungle had always looked dark to him, but now it looked downright sinister. “All right, men. Half of you, go back to the Iron Wind and tell everyone what happened.”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, sir, but I think they already saw,” said the sailor. “We were in plain sight of the ship the entire time. Bet the whole crew saw it happened. Wouldn't be surprised if they were already assembling a team to come here.”
Malock stood up and unsheathed his sword. “I still want half of you to go back. Take Danaf with you and get him to Telka immediately. The rest of us will go into the jungle and try to find Sumsa.”
“Sir?” said Forl, glancing into the jungle. “Are you sure that's a wise move? I mean, you saw what happened to the left party. Maybe we should all go back.”
Malock whirled and pointed the tip of his sword under Forl's chin. Forl shrank back, looking quite timid despite his buff arms.
“Are you questioning my orders, Forl?” said Malock, in his most authoritative voice. “Or do you just not care about your fellow sailors all that much?”
“I'm not questioning you at all, Captain, sir,” said Forl, holding his hands up in a submissive position. “It's just ... well, I didn't think you'd risk your own life like this. Th-that's all.”
Malock lowered his sword and looked at the jungle. “As Captain of the Iron Wind, I will not unnecessarily sacrifice the lives of any of my sailors. Besides, as Kano's chosen, I will probably be okay.”
It didn't take Malock long to divide the expedition into two teams. To avoid losing his best men, Malock sent Danaf, Kocas, Forl, and
the other two injured sailors back to the Iron Wind on one of the rowboats. The other half, consisting of Crina, the human sailor, and the other two who weren't badly injured, were going with him into the jungle.
Right before the second party left, Malock took Forl aside and said, “When you get back to the ship, tell Banika to refrain from sending a rescue party for the next six hours.”
“Six hours, sir?” said Forl. “Do you think your party will find Sumsa in six hours?”
“Possibly,” said Malock, though privately he doubted that. “I just don't want to risk the lives of anyone else on the crew.” Especially Vashnas, he thought.
Forl saluted and said, “And if you don't return in six hours, what do we do then?”
Malock looked at the Iron Wind anchored just off the shore and said, “Turn the ship back north and head home. Because if we don't return by then ... then we will probably be dead.”
-
The jungle of Ikadori Island was as silent as the beach. There were no insects buzzing, no birds chirping in the trees, not even the screeching of monkeys to break the stillness. It was like walking into an audimancer's study, except far muggier and much less friendly.
Every member of Malock's party had their weapons drawn. Though Malock didn't think that anything was following them, he had ordered his men to keep quiet at all times so they could hear anything coming up behind them. They consented readily, perhaps because the stillness of the jungle made talking seem inappropriate.
It seemed like the ikadori trees were mostly found along the shore because the farther in they went, the fewer ikadori peaches they found on the ground. Eventually, the ikadori trees disappeared entirely, replaced by odd-looking trees with black bark, wrapped in red and green vines, with great white leaves that shrouded them in darkness.
Not even the wind blew in the jungle; the leaves on the trees were perfectly still. Vines hung from the branches, reminding Malock of the hanger snakes from Carnag, a species of snake that hang from tree branches like a vine and killed whatever grabbed them. These vines were clearly not snakes, but every time Malock's arm brushed against one, he jumped and his men would aim their guns at it only to discover that it was nothing more than a mere vine.
And it was dark, almost like night time, as the sailor from the left party had said earlier. The leaves and branches above their heads crisscrossed so tightly that little light shone through, despite the bright mid-morning sun. Malock wished he'd brought along a lamp because he was certain that, if there was something stalking them right now, it would have no trouble picking them off one by one, if it wanted to.
Because the sun was obscured, it was impossible to tell how many hours had passed. Malock supposed it had probably only been one hour, maybe two, but his sense of time was off and he didn't want to ask the others how much time they thought had passed because he didn't want to create any unnecessary sound.
Then Crina's voice whispered through the darkness suddenly. “Hey ... did you guys hear that?”
The rescue party stopped and listened. At first, Malock heard nothing, but then he heard something swishing through the air and the next moment something hard slammed into his face. Seeing stars in his eyes, Malock fell over backward amid the noises of gun shots, shouts, and what sounded like slapping ropes twirling through the air.
Confused and scared, Malock rolled away from the scene, got to his feet, and ran. Something hot whizzed by his ear, almost taking it clean off, and he felt a vine try to snag his foot but he slapped it away with his sword and kept running, never looking back, never slowing down even slightly.
He had no idea how many hours he ran. He crashed through the bushes, cut down vines and branches that got in his way, and didn't even try to be quiet. There was no point in being silent now, not when his location was known and the thing—whatever it was—could get him if he wasn't careful.
Then his foot met empty air and he went falling. He landed flat on his back in the bottom of a pit, causing pain to shoot up his spine like he'd never felt before. This time he bit back his scream, even biting his own tongue to keep silent. He had no idea what was chasing him, no idea what had attacked (and probably killed) his men, but he was betting that the thing relied on sound more than sight, so if he kept quiet then it might not find him.
'Might' was the operative word because above him he could hear movement. It sounded like a hundred snakes were slithering across the ground at once, like the branches of trees were creaking, like the entire jungle was coming alive. A loud, long scream pierced the air, making his heart skip a beat, and then the scream abruptly ceased and the entire jungle went silent once again.
For the next several hours, Malock didn't move a muscle. He just silently prayed to Kano, to Grinf, and to every other deity he had ever paid homage to in his short life (which, he realized, wasn't very much). It was all he could do.
-
“I'm going after him and there's no way any of you are going to stop me.”
Vashnas stood near the davit on the port, her fingers clenched tightly around a gun in her hands that she obviously didn't know how to hold correctly. Before her, Banika guarded the rowboat, leaning against it with her arms folded across her chest. Though Banika's face was as inscrutable as ever, she was clearly ready to tumble if necessary.
Kinker observed this scene from a safe distance, several dozen yards down from them. Normally, at this time of day, he and the other fishermen would have been hauling in the trawl for lunch, but because the Iron Wind had been stationary all day, the fishing crew pretty much had nothing to do until Malock returned. Kinker had decided to spend his time looking at Ikadori Island, as he had never seen a jungle before.
Frankly, he was surprised Vashnas had waited so long to try this. When Forl and the other sailors returned with the news of Malock's decision to rescue Sumsa from the jungle five hours ago, Kinker had been certain that Vashnas would immediately go after him. Instead, she had disappeared below deck, missed out on lunch, and only emerged a few minutes ago, armed to the teeth with knives, guns, and hunting gear that Kinker hadn't even known were in the hold.
In spite of Vashnas's impressive array of weapons, Banika hardly looked terrified. The boatswain was always a difficult read, but if Kinker had to describe her attitude right now, it was confidence. It was an amused kind of confidence, as if Banika was thinking, Oh, so you think you can get past me with all of those toys of yours? Think again.
“You heard what Forl said the Captain told him,” said Banika, her tone even and calm. “If he doesn't return in six hours—and it's only been five so far—then we're supposed to turn this ship back north and return home. We're not supposed to send anyone after him.”
“I'm not asking for your permission,” Vashnas said. “I want to go, and I'll fight you if I have to.”
Banika didn't even move. “That would be an unwise move on your part, Vashnas. Very unwise.”
Vashnas flashed a confident smile. “Says the middle-aged woman. As much as I respect Malock, I've often wondered why he chose someone so ... old to be his first mate. You might still have some moves, but I doubt that aging body of yours is as fast as it was when you were younger.”
Now Kinker didn't have the best eyes in the world, but he was pretty sure that his vision didn't mess up when Vashnas dropped her gun and grabbed her right wrist while Banika actually smirked ever-so-slightly. It took Kinker a moment to spot the knife Banika held in her hand. Where she had gotten it from, he wasn't sure. Nor was he sure that he wanted to know.
“True, I may not be as young as I used to be,” said Banika, “but you forget that with age comes experience. And I have plenty of that.”
“When Malock returns, I'll tell him you hurt me,” Vashnas grumbled. “He won't like that.”
“And I'll tell him that I was keeping you from getting yourself killed,” said Banika. “Which do you think he'll respond to better?”
Kinker thought Vashnas was going to give up, but much to his surprised, she r
ipped off a portion of her right sleeve and tied it around her bleeding wrist as a makeshift bandage. Then she looked Banika straight in the eye.
“I think he'd respond better to me making a rescue attempt, personally,” said Vashnas. “And that was a neat trick you pulled back there, with that knife. Too bad it's not enough to make me give up.”
Banika opened her mouth to say something, but then her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fell face forward. She would have hit the deck face first if Vashnas had not caught her instead.
“What did you do?” said Kinker, abandoning his spot by the bulwarks and walking over to her. “Did you hit her?”
“No,” said Vashnas as she gently lowered the boatswain onto the deck. “I—”
“I thought Banika needed a nap,” said a deep voice behind them.
Kinker and Vashnas turned around to see Bifor standing not far behind them. He held his short wand up, pointing it directly at Banika, his expression cool and unreadable.
“You didn't put her in a coma or anything, did you?” said Vashnas, glancing over her shoulder at the unconscious Banika.
Bifor shook his head. “Just cast a basic sleep spell on her, that's all. She'll wake up refreshed in a few hours, so I'd say this actually benefits her quite well.”
“But why did you do that?” said Kinker, looking up at the large mage. “She didn't do anything to you.”
“Because I wish to save the Captain, too, of course,” said Bifor. “Mostly because I am convinced that he is the only thing keeping this crew together. If he died, do you think we would be organized enough to mount a return voyage home, even under Banika's leadership? I doubt it, myself.”
Vashnas smiled. “Then come along, Bifor, because I'm going to Ikadori Island right now and I need all the help I can get. Kinker, do you want to come, too?”
Kinker felt torn. On one hand, he didn't want to face whatever was lurking in the jungle, especially after seeing what happened to Danaf. Even with Bifor and Vashnas, he wasn't sure they would survive.
The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock Page 7