The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock

by Timothy L. Cerepaka

  A day after the storm, Arisha gave Kinker the job of delivering Bifor his breakfast. Bifor had not been terribly injured during the Tusked God's attack; in fact, he had been one of the few to escape without any serious injuries. Instead, he had worked himself ragged using his limited knowledge of healing magic to help those who were injured and considering how many of them there were, it was no surprise when he collapsed one day and had to be taken to his room by some of the other sailors.

  And yes, Bifor did indeed have his own cabin. Kinker didn't know that until Arisha told him. Apparently, as Bifor was the last mage on the ship, Malock had thought he needed to be kept safe from the hazards of sharing one tiny room with a dozen or so other sailors. That, and Bifor was unusually large and required more room than the others; hence why he got his own cabin.

  The cabin itself was located below deck, near the bow, but just before the hold. Kinker carried the hot bowl of soup down the hatch as carefully as he could and walked down the hall, remembering Arisha's directions. He quickly found it, knocked on the door, and heard Bifor's voice on the other side say, “Come in,” which he did.

  He glanced around as he entered. Bifor's cabin was not fancy or particularly nice, like the rest of the ship, but there was an air about it that was very different from every other cabin Kinker had been in. He realized that it smelled better; not perfect, as Kinker was convinced that the stink of the sea was now an inherent part of the ship, but it didn't smell like shit, blood, sweat, and other bodily fluids like the rest of the ship did. Until he entered, he hadn't realized just how used he was to the horrible smells.

  Bifor was lying in his too-small bed, his feet sticking over the end, a thick wool blanket covering his body. His face was drawn, his cheeks were hollow, and he looked more like a fallen tree than a human being. Nonetheless, he had a book open on his stomach, which he looked up from when Kinker entered the room. On the stand next to his bed lay his wand.

  “Ah, Kinker,” said Bifor, yawning. “I see you are my server today. What kind of soup have you brought me?”

  Kinker placed the bowl of soup on the nightstand next to Bifor's bed, saying as he did so, “It's duck soup. Fresh from the stove top, made with the stuff we got from the Mechanical Goddess back on Stalf.”

  Bifor snapped his fingers and the bowl of soup levitated over to him. He grabbed the spoon out of the bowl and began eating the soup ravenously, like he hadn't eaten in days.

  Kinker raised an eyebrow. “Looks like you're getting better already.”

  Bifor stopped eating briefly to look up at Kinker and say, “Oh, it's not as easy as it looks. Hence why I have my wand. Makes it easier to use magic.”

  Kinker nodded. “Yes, I've heard. I wonder if I could learn how to use magic without a wand. Sure would make my life easier.”

  “Not unless you undergo years of exhausting training,” said Bifor before digging back into his soup. “As I said, it's not nearly as easy as it appears.”

  “Exhausting?” said Kinker. “What's so difficult about learning how to wave a wand or snap your fingers or say chants?”

  Bifor almost dropped his bowl of soup as he looked up at Kinker in shock.

  “Magic is tapping into the essence of the gods themselves,” said Bifor, stating that fact like it was something everyone knew. “It's not something you can just do. You need to be trained by competent teachers who have been practicing their art for years.”

  “Sorry,” said Kinker. “I didn't know that.”

  Bifor sighed. “That's right. You're from Destan. I keep forgetting that. You fit in so well with the rest of the crew that I sometimes think you must be from Carnag or one of the other major islands up north.”

  “There's still a lot I don't know,” said Kinker. “A lot. But I've been learning from all of you and I hope to improve as time goes on.”

  “It's not a problem,” said Bifor. “It's just ... very frustrating, you understand. With all of this shit that's been going on, I have more than enough on my plate already and I really don't want to educate my fellow crew on topics that are common knowledge to everyone over the age of six.”

  “I understand,” said Kinker. He turned to leave, but then stopped and turned back around. “Just one more question. If magic is about tapping into the essence of the gods, then how do you get tired?”

  Once more, Bifor sighed, although this time it seemed more like habit than anything. “The essence of the gods still has to be channeled through my body. That's another part of magic training; learning how to train your body so it can transfer magical energy through it without wearing down easily.”

  “You must be very well trained in that regard,” said Kinker. “You managed to go for a long time without collapsing.”

  Bifor shrugged. “Larger people in general have an easier time channeling magic than smaller people. Body mass seems to affect how well one's body tolerates magic, but of course there are always exceptions, like Kargo the Short, who legend says used magic for a full month before collapsing.”

  “Sounds inspiring.”

  “It's just a story,” said Bifor matter-of-factly. “Kargo the Short was probably a compilation of multiple mages from that time period. It's said that he lived a thousand years ago, so he probably didn't actually exist.”

  Kinker frowned. “Why did you feel the need to point that out?”

  “Because myths and stories are often taken too seriously by people,” said Bifor. “Now it's true that some of those myths are true and there are many we have not been able to verify. Still, I am always amused by some of the wilder stories out there, like the one about Hollech and the giant egg.”

  “Never head that one.”

  “You're lucky,” said Bifor. “Anyway, I simply wish to make sure that no one takes these stories too seriously. Most of the myths and legends of the past were simply made up by people and then edited through various retellings throughout the years. They're very unreliable.”

  “Huh,” said Kinker. “I never saw any reason to question them because the gods can do anything, can't they?”

  Bifor looked out the lone window in his cabin, apparently lost in thought. “Before we got to the southern seas, I would have said the same thing. But if the Captain is telling the truth, then the gods do have certain limitations. When we get home, I will certainly have to write a paper on this to present to the Association of Mages. It will radically alter almost everything we know about the gods and how they operate.”

  “If we get home, that is,” said Kinker.

  Bifor looked at Kinker in surprise. “'If'? You sound pessimistic, Kinker. Chin up.”

  “That's difficult to do,” said Kinker. “I mean, even with the Iron Wind repaired and the new supplies we have and all that, the southern seas are still dangerous, aren't they? Who knows what kind of dangers we'll run into between here and World's End?”

  Bifor laughed. “Kinker, your concerns are understandable, but honestly I think you're worrying too much. I imagine we've already been through the worst; otherwise, I think Vashnas would have said something about it. It will probably be smooth sailing from here on out.”

  “If you say so,” said Kinker. “Is there anything else I can get for you, Bifor?”

  Bifor shook his head. “No, thank you. I'm going to take a nap now, I think. All of this talking is tiring me out.”

  “Okay,” said Kinker. “If you need anything, you know how to contact us.”

  Bifor nodded. “Bye.”

  “Bye,” said Kinker as he exited the room, closing the door behind him, his worries still not assuaged in the slightest.

  -

  Over the next week, the worst problem that the Iron Wind ran into was a leak that sprung open in the hull. That was an easy fix, however, due to the abundant nails and boards that the Mechanical Goddess had provided them with. Bifor even helped, managing to gather just enough energy to seal the cracks around the boards so the water couldn't leak through.

  Beyond that, Bifor's predictions s
eemed to come true. The seas were calm, the sky was bright and clear, and everyone on the ship seemed to be feeling better. Even those who had not yet recovered from the Tusked God's attack seemed more hopeful, as if the bright sun was shining down rays of hope rather than rays of light.

  For his part, Kinker was glad his fears were unfounded. After all of the shit they'd been through, having a peaceful week was like a refreshing breath of fresh air. His back was getting better, he was sleeping more soundly than before, and he thought there was no way life could get worse.

  It was just as the new week began that Vashnas, sitting in the crow's nest, reported seeing something on the horizon. She said it wasn't an island or any kind of land, but rather a tunnel that seemed to extend deep into the sea itself.

  That odd description caused many sailors to go to the bow to try to see it themselves, but it wasn't until a few hours later that the so-called 'tunnel' Vashnas reported came into view. Even then, it was but a speck on the horizon for another day until they got close enough to see exactly what she had been talking about.

  Her description was accurate. Directly ahead of them was a huge, open tunnel, easily tall enough and wide enough to allow the entirety of the Iron Wind to pass through with little problem. That itself was strange, but stranger still was the sound of a massive waterfall that could be heard just beyond the tunnel. Vashnas reported that the sea ended at the tunnel and began on the other side of a huge gap that they could not sail around even if they changed course.

  It appeared that their only course of action was to go through the tunnel. This time, Vashnas didn't even tell them what they could expect. Kinker didn't know if it was because she honestly didn't know what was in the tunnel or if she simply did not trust her own memory or what. All he knew was that the peaceful, happy atmosphere that had been gradually building up over the past week was just as gradually fading the closer they got to the tunnel.

  One thing they did know for sure about the tunnel was that it sloped. How far down it went, no one knew for sure, but Vashnas reported seeing the other end of the tunnel opening on the other side of the ocean, so they at least knew there was an exit. A lot of sailors tried to suggest alternative ways around it, but Vashnas confirmed that the gap in the sea stretched for miles in every direction with no end in sight, so it would simply be more practical to go through the tunnel. This did not reassure them much.

  Nonetheless, the crew worked hard to secure the supplies. Because the tunnel sloped, they had to secure the supplies to make sure that nothing would fall over or break or spill out in the hold. Malock also gave them orders to stay below deck until the tunnel leveled out, as he didn't want to lose any members of his crew for no reason. As usual, Malock remained within his stateroom, along with Banika and Vashnas, while the rest of the crew went below deck.

  The hold was far less crowded than it had been the first time the crew had been forced to stay below deck. Nonetheless, the hold still smelled of damp wood, the unwashed bodies of the human and aquarian sailors (the Mechanical Goddess, Kinker realized, had failed to supply them with any soap or personal cleaning supplies), and it was almost completely dark, save for the lamps that a few members of the crew had managed to light. Shadows cast by the lamps danced along the walls as the ship swayed.

  Kinker and Jenur sat near the end of the hold, away from the door. They had just finished tying down the cargo and were now sitting among the rest of the crew who were all speculating about what was in the tunnel. Kinker listened to theories ranging from yet another god to some sort of sea monster that made the tunnel its den and everything in between. He personally wondered how they would defend the ship once they entered the tunnel, as the tunnel probably didn't have any light in it.

  Without warning, the entire ship inclined down sharply. The ship's sudden movement threw Kinker and Jenur to the floor along with the others, including those who held the lamps. The lamps went out, too, plunging the entire hold into darkness.

  Additionally, the ship was starting to pick up speed. Kinker heard the rushing of the water above the creaking of wood and the occasional shouts from the other sailors. All he knew was that they must be going down, down into the tunnel's depths, and he wasn't sure how to feel about that.

  Luckily, however, they had tied down the cargo well because Kinker did not hear any of the crates fall over. They did lurch with the ship, however, and some of the sailors voiced their uncertainty about the ropes, but they thankfully held. Some of the sailors scrambled to find lights and in a minute a lamp was turned back on, held by Gino, although the light was too weak to illuminate the entire hold.

  Just as Kinker was getting used to the downward trajectory of the Iron Wind, the ship jerked to a stop and he was thrown forward. He slammed into the wall of the hold and around him he could hear the other sailors cursing and yelling. Jenur nearby was cursing so badly that Kinker was surprised at her language, as her rather extensive knowledge of curse words included more than a few he had never heard before.

  “Ow,” said Kinker, rubbing his head as he turned around. “What stopped us?”

  “We didn't stop,” said Jenur's voice from somewhere within the darkness. “The ship is still in motion. Can you feel it?”

  Kinker stopped talking and listened to the floor. Yes, now that Jenur mentioned it, he could feel the subtle movement of the ship beneath their feet. It was slow, almost imperceptible, but there was no denying that it was still in motion.

  A sudden flash of light caused Kinker to raise his hands to cover his eyes. When his eyes adjusted, he lowered his hands and saw that it was Gino who held the lamp. In the weak light of the lamp, his unhappy expression looked like something straight from Kinker's nightmares.

  “The tunnel has probably leveled out,” said Gino. “But we still don't know what is on the outside.”

  “Someone should go and check,” said Jenur, standing up and dusting off her shirt sleeves. “Anyone volunteered?”

  “No,” said Gino. “Remember the Captain's orders. We're to stay below deck for the entirety of the time spent in the tunnel, except in emergencies.”

  “That's bull,” said Jenur. “I want to know what's out there and I'm going to take a look.”

  Kinker rested a hand on Jenur's shoulder. “Jenur, I think you should stay here. It might be too dangerous out there for a girl your age.”

  Jenur shrugged off Kinker's hand. “Kinks, I'm going to be fine. You know I can look after myself.”

  “Be that as it may, having more help is never a bad thing,” said Kinker. “May I at least come with you? The more backup the better, if I do say so myself.”

  “Fine,” said Jenur. “Gino, give me that lamp. I need to see where I am going if I'm going to go out there.”

  Gino didn't look like he agreed with that at all, but he nonetheless handed the lamp to Jenur. “Be careful out there. It could be dangerous.”

  Jenur smirked. “Gino, after almost getting eaten alive by three gods, danger doesn't frighten me anymore.”

  Gino shrugged and stepped aside. “As you wish.”

  -

  Malock rubbed his belly as Banika mopped up the contents of his stomach that he had unfortunately hurled when the ship went downhill fast. He had had enough sense in his head to barf all over the floor, rather than on his desk, but it was still messy and Malock still felt rather sick. It didn't help that the stateroom was almost pitch black now, thanks to the tunnel's complete lack of light, although Vashnas had been smart enough to bring a lamp with her before they entered the tunnel.

  “I am so sorry,” said Malock, contorting his mouth due to the taste of barf still in it. “I didn't realize I'd hurl like that when we'd start going down.”

  “Not a problem, sir,” said Banika, swishing her mob back and forth across the floor. “Compared to what I've had to clean up before, this is nothing.”

  Malock nodded and glanced out the window, seeing only complete and utter darkness. He could hear the sound of running water outside, heard t
he creaking of the ship underneath his feet, but beyond that the tunnel was utterly silent, making him wonder if there was anything inside the tunnel at all.

  He turned to Vashnas. She was sitting on the sofa, as usual, her hands folded behind her head and her legs crossed. She looked utterly bored at the proceedings and seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep.

  Malock normally would have considered that cute, but right now she just looked insubordinate. “All right, Vash. Now that we're in the tunnel, what can we expect to run into?”

  Vashnas yawned and said, “I don't know.”

  “Excuse me?” said Malock. “You're supposed to be the expert on the southern seas. Surely you must know what lives in this tunnel.”

  Vashnas yawned again, this time in a rather irritating fashion, and said, “I don't know every aspect of the southern seas, Mal. Last time I was here, I didn't even enter this tunnel. I thought it would be too dangerous, especially since I didn't have a ship.”

  “I thought you said you went to World's End,” said Malock. “Didn't you tell me that at the beginning of the voyage?”

  Vashnas shrugged. “I thought I said I almost got to World's End. Didn't I?”

  Malock slapped his face. He didn't know why Vashnas was being so obstinate, but he decided that interrogating her about it would be a waste of time.

  Instead, he said, “Then I suppose the next thing to do would be to go out to the deck and see what is out there myself.”

  To his satisfaction, Vashnas actually sat up and looked at him in alarm. “Mal, are you sure about that? I mean, of course as Captain of the ship you have every right to, but you don't know what's out there and—“

  “And what?” said Malock. “It is true that there could be many hidden dangers out there, monsters waiting to attack, gods waiting to eat us, maybe another band of pirates. But remember, I have Kano's approval. I doubt anything can kill me, even if it wanted to. Logically, I am therefore the best choice to explore an unknown, potentially lethal place.”