“Well, that was weird,” said Jenur, looking between Malock and Kinker. “Do you think he is really going to let us go?”
“I believe so,” said Malock, his eyes focusing on the mainmast where the Historic God had been mere seconds ago. “He would have tried to kill us if he didn't mean it.”
“Then why talk to us at all?” said Jenur.
“I don't know, Jenur,” said Malock. “Perhaps he was lonely. Or maybe he just wanted to scare us. Either way, I have a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling.”
***
Chapter Twenty
The rest of the voyage through the Tunnel was completed almost entirely in the dark. Due to the current in the Tunnel, there was no need to raise the sails or have any of the crew work. Therefore, before Malock returned to his stateroom, he gave Kinker and Jenur orders to tell the rest of the crew to stay below deck until they returned to the open seas.
When Malock returned to his stateroom, he found Vashnas and Banika waiting eagerly for him. They had apparently heard his, Kinker's, and Jenur's entire conversation with the Historic God through the window, which was open, but they didn't know all the details until Malock informed them. Banika took particular interest in the news that there was actually another spy on board the ship, while Vashnas seemed more than a bit disturbed by the idea that yet another southern god had spared them for dubious reasons.
Yet the Historic God kept his promise and soon the Iron Wind was heading upstream, because for some reason the water flowed upward in this place. It didn't flow up quite as fast as it flowed down, however, but they emerged onto the bright blue ocean soon enough, which was as beautiful as it always was and far less dank than the Tunnel was.
As soon as they exited the Tunnel, Malock could feel World's End drawing him towards it. He asked Vashnas if there were any more islands between them and World's End and Vashnas said that she doubted it, that it would probably be smooth sailing from here on out.
Somehow, that news spread quickly throughout the entire ship before Malock even told anyone else. The tense atmosphere that had been gradually building up over the last day immediately dissolved, replaced by nothing more than pure, unabashed joy at the thought that this mad voyage was finally near its end.
In fact, though Malock didn't order it, a handful of sailors started to celebrate a bit too early. Unbeknownst to most of the crew, the Mechanical Goddess had also given them a lot of wine—good wine, by the look of it—with the rest of their supplies and some of the crew had discovered it, brought it top deck, and were now drinking it and dancing and singing old shanties. It wasn't until Banika came to Malock's stateroom and informed him of the impromptu party that he went to see it for himself.
As Banika had described, about half a dozen sailors had started dancing. Half of them were human and the other half aquarian, but for once they seemed to have forgotten their xenophobic tendencies toward one another and simply danced liked there was no tomorrow. They were old sailor dances, not particularly elegant or well-choreographed, but that obviously didn't matter to them. For that matter, the shanties they sung were coarse and full of vulgarity and sexual innuendos of nearly every kind.
Despite that, more and more sailors were starting to join the party and for once Malock didn't tell them not to. He figured that after all of the crap they had been through over the past couple of months, they deserved a time to relax and let loose, at least for today. In fact, he even went and joined them, which surprised some of his men but no one actually objected to his presence.
The party went on for hours, well into the night. Even Bifor came up to watch, although due to still being weak he mostly just stood and watched, occasionally participating in a song or sipping some wine but otherwise observing. Malock paid little attention to the mage, instead dancing with some of his sailors (including Jenur at one point) and even partaking in a crude little ditty that Gino informed him was called 'The Sailor's Lust.' (It was actually similar in content to some of the songs sung in the Carnagian court, interestingly enough, even though the style was cruder.)
The sun crossed the sky as the party went on, until it soon became too dark to see. Luckily, some of the crew found torches to light (which had apparently been included with the supply crates that the Mechanical Goddess had given them) and so they continued to sing and dance by torchlight. More than a few sailors got drunk, but no one fell overboard, although a handful did pass out on the ship's deck.
Eventually, Malock got tired and had to take a break. He made his way to starboard, declining many invitations from his more drunken men to have 'just another sip' of wine, where no one was, and leaned against the bulwarks. His knees ached and his whole body shook with exhaustion, but it was the good kind of exhaustion, the kind that makes you feel like you did a good long day of work (or, in his case, play).
“Having a fun time?” said a familiar voice to his left.
Malock glanced to his left and saw Vashnas sitting not too far away, with her back against the bulwarks and her legs up to her chest. She didn't look very happy, nor did she appear to have partaken in any of the festivities. At least, Malock could not remember seeing her dancing or singing or drinking, though he supposed that he may have missed her somehow.
“I thought you were up in the crow's nest,” said Malock, wiping some wine off his lips. “Why don't you join the party?”
Vashnas sighed. “I decided to come down and see what the rest of y'all were doing, considering how loud you guys are. I should go back up.”
Vashnas stood up, but Malock grabbed her hand, prompting her to look at him in surprise.
“Yeah, back to the crow's nest with you,” he said in jest. “In the darkness of the night, where you probably can't even see your hand in front of your face. Come on, Vash. There's no reason to spend the night cooped up there alone when you can be down here with us.”
Vashnas didn't let go of his hand, but her hand did go slack in his. “I guess you have a point. It's just been so tense for such a long time that I'm having a hard time adjusting to this kind of happiness.”
“True, it is rather different from what we're used to,” said Malock. “But so what? I'd trade my crew of tense, possibly mutinous men for this crew of joyously drunk sailors any day of the week.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” said Vashnas, though her tone was distracted, like she wasn't listening.
Malock tried to look her in the eyes, but she kept averting her gaze. “Vash, what's on your mind? I can tell you're thinking about something. What is it?”
Nearby, some of the sailors had started to play a card game of sorts. Malock recognized the cards as belonging to his deck of divination cards, but for the moment he didn't care how they had gotten them or what game they were playing. All he wanted to do was listen to Vashnas's problem and find out how he could help.
She didn't look like she wanted to talk. Nonetheless, she did say, “I've been thinking about World's End. I've been thinking about this voyage in general.”
“What about it?” said Malock.
This time, she actually did look at him. “I ... I'm sorry, Mal, but I can't keep this up. I'm tired of the secrecy between us, tired of how we've been growing apart ever since Stalf.”
“You noticed?” said Malock.
“Of course I did,” said Vashnas. “Before Stalf, you and I had such powerful, unbound love for each other. After Stalf ... well, I sensed you didn't quite trust me as you did before. You held me at a distance, maybe even hated me. That's why I took on the job of lookout. I didn't think you loved me anymore and I saw no reason to try to make you.”
“Vash, that is simply untrue and you know it,” said Malock. “I love you like the light of the sun.”
“Then why have you not talked to me?” said Vashnas. “Why have you kept me at a distance? Why have you and I been chilly with each other?”
Malock bit his lower lip. “Well—“
“I think it's time we be straight with each other,” said Vashnas. She
turned to face him, no longer averting her eyes. “At least, I should be straight with you. After all the secrets I've kept from you, it's about time I tell you the truth.”
Malock blinked as the rest of the crowd erupted into spontaneous applause, which a quick glanced told him was the result of Jenur performing a difficult dance move. “I knew it.”
“What?” said Vashnas.
Malock pointed at her and said, “I knew you were keeping secrets from me. Ever since Stalf, I've been suspecting you of not being entirely honest with me.”
Vashnas frowned. “That explains a lot. I suppose there is a lot about me that just doesn't add up.”
“You're absolutely correct,” said Malock. “Like why your knowledge of the southern seas seems to leave out the most important part: namely, the southern gods. I even began to suspect that you have never been to the southern seas at all and that you simply got your knowledge of the southern seas from the various rumors sailors spread about them.”
Vashnas sighed again, this time more heavily, as if the weight of a thousand years were on her shoulders. “No, Mal, I knew about the southern gods the entire time. I just kept their existence a secret from you out of a misguided desire to keep you safe.”
Malock looked at her incredulously. “Keep me safe? How is not telling a man wandering in the darkness about the cliff he's about to fall over safe?”
“As I said, it was misguided,” said Vashnas. “Extremely misguided on my part. I was hoping that we could simply head straight down to World's End, never staying on one island for too long, and that maybe the gods would not bother us due to your status as a Chosen One. Evidently, I was wrong about that.”
Malock balled his hands into fists, trying his best not to get angry but feeling the anger rise up in him like steam in a tea kettle anyway. “We could have avoided a lot of problems if you had simply been honest from the start. Maybe even saved some lives.”
Vashnas looked down in shame. “I know, I know. I don't think there's any forgiveness for my keeping quiet. In the next life, maybe I will be punished for all of the blood on my hands.”
Malock ran a hand through his hair. “Then what is the truth? Why did you really join my crew? It's not because you needed the money or because you have a thirst for adventure, is it?”
In the torchlight, half of Vashnas's face was covered in shadow, but the half that wasn't, revealed a grim expression that was out of place in the festive atmosphere. “I might as well get this out of the way right now. You see, Malock, I joined your crew for one reason and one reason only: To kill Tinkar, the God of Fate.”
All of time seemed to come to a halt at that instant. The boisterous singing of the crew, the sound of their dancing boots beating against the deck of the ship, the jingling of coins as sailors traded what little money they had with each other over the card game ... all of that faded away, replaced by a faint buzzing sound in Malock's brain that made it difficult to focus on anything except what he just heard.
He somehow managed a smile, a weak smile, a smile without any actual mirth behind it, but a smile nonetheless. “That's a great joke, Vash. Almost had me there for a second.”
“I'm not joking,” said Vashnas. “At all. I'm completely, one hundred percent serious.”
That weak smile Malock managed? It immediately disappeared. “You ... are?”
“I know how that sounds and I know what you're going to say,” said Vashnas, holding up her hands defensively. “Just hear me out, will you?”
Malock shook his head. “How can I hear you out when you are suggesting the impossible? I mean, I know some people dislike the gods, but deicide? That sounds like something only a madman would ever suggest.”
“I'm not mad,” said Vashnas. “I'm perfectly sane, thank you very much. Would you at least listen to my story, if nothing else?”
Malock staggered back against the bulwarks, feeling his body and mind grow sluggish with fear. “Oh dear ... now it all makes sense. Tinkar sent a spy on board this ship not to kill me, but to kill you. And I had no idea ... no idea at all that I was ferrying an assassin to World's End in order to kill him. By the gods.”
Bile rose in Malock's throat at the very thought and he almost threw up, but Vashnas drew closer to him and patted him on the back, saying, “I know, I know, it sounds crazy. It might make more sense if you would listen to me first. Could you do that, at least?”
Malock rubbed his eyes and looked at her, hoping against hope that maybe this was all just a really weird dream he was having. Alas, he did not wake up in his bed, back in Carnag Hall, clutching his pillows like he sometimes did when he had a nightmare, so he had to conclude that this was in fact reality.
“Okay,” said Malock, taking a big gulp of air. “You can tell me your story. I'll listen. If I seem zoned out, it's because ... you know, deicide.”
Vashnas nodded. “I knew you probably wouldn't react well to my tale, but you seem absolutely sick. Do you really respect Tinkar that much?”
“It's nothing to do with Tinkar,” said Malock, “and everything to do with the very idea of deicide. It is the ultimate act of treason against the gods. I cannot even imagine it.”
“Then you have a very tiny imagination, Captain,” said a familiar voice nearby. “After all, there was an entire war fought where deicide happened nearly every day.”
Both Malock and Vashnas turned to see Bifor approaching them. With his back to the torchlight, his face was covered in shadow, which made him looked far more menacing than he was. There was also something in the way he walked, the way he held his wand, that put Malock on edge, although he couldn't place what it was.
“Bifor, what are you doing here?” said Malock in annoyance. “Vashnas and I were having a very private conversation that has nothing to do with you. Why don't you go back and party with everyone else?”
Bifor stopped, his face still shrouded in shadow, and waved his wand behind him. The air around Bifor, Malock, and Vashnas shimmered, like the air in a desert, but the shimmering quickly faded away, leaving the air looking normal. Malock wouldn't have given that gesture much thought if he hadn't noticed that the sounds from the rest of the ship were now entirely muted. He could still see, around Bifor's bulk, the sailors singing and dancing and playing cards, but he could not hear them, not even when Gino went dancing by, his eyes closed and his lips uttering the lyrics of a song he couldn't hear.
“I, too, wish to have a private conversation with you, Captain,” said Bifor, his tone civil and even as he raised his wand, pointing it at them. “And with Vashnas as well. In fact, I've been waiting a long time for this moment, much longer than you would have supposed.”
“What's going on, Bifor?” said Malock, his eyes on Bifor's wand. “If you wanted to talk with me and Vashnas, all you had to do was ask.”
Bifor shook his head. “I forgot how terribly naïve you were, Captain. I suppose royalty in general is pretty naïve and childish. But then I suppose it doesn't matter because I'm afraid that neither of you will be living much longer.”
“Is that a threat?” said Malock, trying to not panic. “Or a joke? Because if it's a joke, it's a pretty terrible one.”
Bifor laughed. “Joke? I'm hardly a clown. No, it is a threat, just as Vashnas is a threat, and it is one I intend to go through with before this night is over.”
Vashnas stepped forward, putting one arm out in front of Malock. “What do you mean? What do you want?”
“Isn't it obvious?” said Bifor, his wand arm never wavering. “I would have thought that you, out of all of the idiots on this ship, would have realized who I am and what I am trying to do. Especially considering your age. Perhaps the years have taken their toll on your brain.”
“What is he talking about?” said Malock, looking at Vashnas. “Vash? What's going on?”
Her arm that was held up before him was as rigid as the mainmast. Her entire body, in fact, had gone rigid, like she had just realized a terrible truth that she did not want to accept.
“I see Vashnas is in too much shock to explain,” said Bifor. “Very well, then. I suppose it won't hurt to tell you one more story before you die. There is nothing you can do to stop me, after all. Nothing at all.”
“What did you do to the sound?” said Malock. “How come I can't hear anyone but you guys?”
“A simple barrier,” said Bifor. “No one can pass through it, except for us. It drowns out all sound, except for whatever is inside the barrier. This is so we can keep this conversation private, as I wished.”
Malock gulped. He had been hoping Banika or someone else would notice Bifor trying to kill them and try to stop him, but he now realized that was nothing but a pipe dream and that he and Vashnas were on their own now.
“But enough blabbering,” said Bifor. “I might as well reveal to you who I truly am. I am not a Xocionian or a pagomancer. My knowledge and understanding of pagomancy is limited and elementary. And Xocion is a foolish god anyway, not worthy of the kind of worship and devotion I show to my true master.”
“And who might that be, Bifor?” said Malock. “Who is your real master?”
Though his face was still covered in shadow, Malock imagined the mage was now smiling evilly. “I thought you would have put two and two together by now, but I suppose I shouldn't have expected such cleverness from a pathetic, small-brained royal like yourself. My true master, my true god—the only one worthy of worship—is Tinkar, the God of Fate. And he has chosen me to eliminate you both before you ever even see World's End.”
Malock took a sharp intake of breath. “You ... are the spy? But that's impossible. The Messenger—“
“Was easily fooled,” said Bifor with a snort. “It was not difficult for me to cast a spell that made Telka smell just like a Tinkarian. The Messenger relied on that smell and so naturally chose our poor doctor. Betraying Telka was not part of the plan, but it became necessary for me in order to continue to remain on this ship so that I might one day receive the opportunity to slay you both.”
The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock Page 30