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Submerged

Page 22

by Seanan McGuire


  Aysu straightened, staring at the two mages, who still had not moved. “How much did you finally agree was proper for me to be torn to pieces?”

  “Aysu,” he said, “yes, they found a price.” A single drop of blood splattered on the table.

  Cold rushed through her, leaving her dizzy. What had the mages done to him, once no one was there to see? He lifted his head and looked at her. His eyes were oozing blood and his skin was gray. She swallowed back a cry and reached for a cloth to wipe away the blood.

  Sorab let her tend to him. As far as she could tell, there was no wound on his face. They’d somehow made him weep blood, but they hadn’t ruined his eyes permanently. “We dive, or they blind all of us.”

  “You mean I’ll dive,” she said. “I’m the only one who can swim deep enough for what they want.”

  “Yes, you are,” the mage said, his voice startling her. “Your teacher tried to sell himself as the better choice, which is why we resorted to firmer measures.”

  Aysu stared at him. The mage stood in her home, threatening to destroy not only Sorab’s livelihood but his entire school, and his face betrayed no emotion at all, as passive as if they were talking about how fast dune grass grew. Everything she’d ever heard about Danisobans was clearly wrong. They were far worse than their legends.

  “What do you want me to retrieve?” she asked.

  The dark man took a step forward. Uncrossing his arms, he held out a piece of silver. It had once been a circlet like the ones he wore, but it was mashed in, as if someone had stepped on it. “This belonged to Helar Pen, first Authority. He died when the Peregrino sank, but because of his power, he continues to interfere with certain workings we must complete. We want you to find Helar Pen’s other bracer, with which we can send him to his final rest.”

  “He’s a ghost?” she asked. The two mages shrugged.

  “Ghosts are wisps,” she said. “They make noise, startle people, but they can’t hurt anyone.”

  “This is no ordinary ghost, woman,” the pale mage snapped. “When a Danisoban dies, if he is not released from his binding, he continues to haunt the world. And he can employ every bit of his magic to do it.”

  “Everyone who’s dived near Treleya in the last twenty years has either drowned or been torn apart,” Sorab said, his voice barely a murmur. “Being in the water drove the ghost mad.”

  “One of our number was able to pull this bracer from the wreck some weeks ago, but ever since, Pen has been able to reach over the miles to our enclave. Spells have been going dangerously wrong. Before you ask,” the dark man said, raising one hand, “yes, it is just our problem. For now. But what happens when he misdirects a working of ours and the market goes up in flame? Or your docks fall into the ocean?”

  He was right. The threat was real. The mages couldn’t stop their ghost, being trapped on land as they were. “If everyone else has died, what makes you think I won’t be killed, too?”

  “We’re not completely insensitive,” the pale mage said. “You’ll be provided a spell of protection.”

  “What about a spell that lets me breathe underwater?” she asked, surprised at herself for even asking. “I can stay down a long time, but since I have to hunt for this bracer, it might take longer than I can manage.”

  “We have no spell of that nature,” the pale man said. “It’s not a subject we’ve ever pursued. All we require of you is to lay hands on his bracer. He can’t wear it, since he is incorporeal. Bring it to the surface, and we will do the rest.”

  For one wild moment, Aysu considered telling them to go away, that no amount of money would ever be enough to convince her to perform their bidding. Sorab’s bloody face quashed the feeling. She couldn’t let them destroy her home, even if she didn’t live through the job. She nodded.

  “We will meet you at dawn on the bluff.” As one, the two mages pulled their hoods over their faces, turned, and left the house.

  * * *

  Aysu hadn’t slept a wink all night. Some of the time she’d worried that every rustle and creak was the mages returning to set fire to the house. When no sounds distracted her, she imagined the death that awaited her in the deep water around Treleya. What had she been thinking, to say yes? She’d been almost relieved when Sorab came to wake her. The walk to the bluff would take an hour, but at least the worrying was over, no matter which way the day turned out.

  The mages were waiting on the bluff when she and Sorab arrived, standing as still as statues while the wind whipped their robes against their legs. At any other time, she’d have loved the beauty of seeing the whole ocean this way. She wondered if she’d ever want to come up here again—assuming she survived the day. The dark mage approached Aysu and tied a length of fabric around her upper arm. “The charm of protection,” he said. “It should keep you from his notice until you find the bracer.”

  “I should point out, we are not patient,” the pale man said. “If you dawdle, or choose to swim away from us, someone will pay.” He looked toward Sorab. Raising his hands, he sketched a pattern in the air between them. Sorab cried out, clutching his belly and bending half-over. He retched, vomiting his breakfast onto the grass in powerful spasms. Aysu started to run to him, but the mage stepped in front of her. “Dive,” he said.

  Aysu glared at the mage, but said nothing. There was nothing she could do, and everyone knew it. She walked down to the edge of the bluff. It extended over the water, well clear of the rocks, so she’d be able to dive without any trouble. Gooseflesh rose on her skin. She almost imagined she could see the shipwreck from her vantage point. She took one deep breath, let it out, and repeated the sequence three times before taking one last breath. Bending her knees, she launched herself into the air, brought her hands forward and dove gracefully into the waiting ocean.

  The water was warm and comforting. Her death might wait, but she couldn’t feel afraid in the ocean’s embrace. A school of jewelfish darted by, startled by her sudden arrival. The soft light of the rising sun sent glittering beams across the shallows and below her, the depths were blue as the evening sky. Behind her, closer to the bluff, broken rocks were piled over each other. Aysu kicked out, sending herself deeper. It didn’t take long before she caught sight of the wrecked ship. It sat, turned sideways, lodged in the sand of the ocean floor. Seaweed had replaced the long-since-decayed rigging, waving gently in time with the current. The ship was covered in a layer of silken algae, making it seem like some strange furred creature. Aysu swam to the bow. In spaces between the strands of algae, she could almost make out painted letters. She pushed the growth away. P, E, R, E…the Peregrino. This was the ship. Somewhere aboard this wreck waited a small silver bracer. But where?

  The ship was tipped on an angle, so anything loose would have slid to the lower side. She found rotted ropes and broken wood, but nothing that looked like a silver bracer. Up higher, on the quarterdeck, the ship’s wheel hung loose from its mooring, tendrils of seaweed waving as she went by. A waterlogged book was trapped under the broken wheel, but she didn’t attempt to move it. It would only disintegrate as soon as she touched it. She’d known the bracer wouldn’t likely be lying out in the open for her to find. From what she’d heard, the mage would have been belowdecks when the ship went down, staying clear of any salt water. So that was where she’d need to search. Directly under the quarterdeck, she found the closed door to what was probably the captain’s cabin. Pulling on the handle, the door swung open. She could search it quickly before returning to the surface for air. Aysu reached for the doorjamb and pulled herself into the shadowy cabin.

  Suddenly she fell to the floor, banging her elbow. Water dripped from her hair and clothing onto the floor. This room was as dry as if the ship was still sailing. She turned and looked back the way she’d come. A wall of dark sea rippled at the doorway. Rising to her feet, Aysu reached a hand toward it. Her fingers sank into it, but no water rushed in.

  “He doesn’t like the water.”

  She spun. A man, dressed in t
he clothing of a sailor. Except that there was no color to him. Skin, hair, clothing, all shades of gray. She’d never seen anyone that looked like him. She backed away a step and he raised a hand.

  “You needn’t fear me. But you mustn’t stay here.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Fedder,” he said, with a smile. “I was asleep when the ship went down.”

  She looked around. A table and chairs were overturned next to a bed. The bedding was dusty and rumpled, as if someone had risen in a hurry. “This is the captain’s cabin, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “It was.” He shrugged. “Now it’s a hole in the ocean.”

  “Why is it dry?” she asked.

  “I told you, he doesn’t like water.” Fedder said. “You need to leave. He doesn’t like people either.”

  “Are you talking about the mage?” she asked.

  He nodded. “He was trying to make the ship fly. I told him to stop playing with his magic on my ship, but he waited until I was asleep and ended up blowing out the bilges.” He smiled at her confused expression. “The lowest part of the ship. We were sunk before anyone even knew what had happened.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.” Fedder walked to the open door and passed a hand through the water. “I wish I could feel it.”

  “You’re a ghost,” Aysu said, feeling frightened and foolish in the same instant. Of course he was a ghost—who else would be living on a sunken ship? Despite what she’d said to the Danisobans yesterday about ghosts being harmless, her heart began to pound against her ribs. She grabbed at the rag on her arm. Was it protecting her? She wished she’d asked questions about how it worked. This was a dead man. Who knew what he was capable of?

  “And you’re in danger of becoming one yourself,” he said. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m a diver,” she said, easing further into the room. “The mages hired me to bring them a silver bracer that used to belong to the mage that drowned. They want to release him so he’ll stop ruining their spells.”

  “Release him?” he asked. “So he’d be free to leave here?”

  “Why does it matter to you?” she asked. “After all, what more can he do to you, now that you’re all ghosts?” And what can you do to me? She kept the thought unspoken.

  “He holds us here, to steal our energy. He still thinks he can make the ship fly, but Danisobans need blood, so his spells all go wrong. Now and then someone from the surface shows up, like you have. He’s always happy to spill their blood for another try at the spell, but it never works. And every time the living mages try to summon him, he fights. He takes what little life energy the crew has left.” He looked down at his dust-gray hands. “The second mate was used up in the last round.” The ghost turned away from Aysu for a moment. “His soul. The mage consumed his soul.”

  She’d never given much thought to what happened after death, but she always believed there was some next step. If a soul could be destroyed, what would that mean for the person it belonged to? It wasn’t a question she could work through, and she pushed it aside for the task at hand.

  “The mages can send him away, but I have to find the bracer. Do you know where it is?”

  He nodded. “It’s on the floor of the gundeck. He didn’t make it to the outside before the ship sank. Still around his wrist. He doesn’t like to spend time in there with his bones.”

  She shuddered. Seeing her own bones was an unsettling idea, and she’d had quite enough of those for one day. “Can you help me?” she asked.

  Fedder reached into his jacket and withdrew a bosun’s whistle. He blew into it, making no sound that she could hear. A moment later, three more gray-skinned ghosts appeared next to him. All three were dressed much as he was, and were just as gray. He waved a hand to them. “All that’s left of my crew,” he said. Aysu bowed to them, and they returned the gesture.

  “This woman is here to help,” he said to the others. “She’s going to release Pen for us. But she needs a hand.”

  The ghosts exchanged glances. For a long moment, Aysu feared they were going to refuse, leaving her to risk death at the ghost mage’s hands. At last, they nodded.

  “You’ll have to swim out to the hatch amidships. Be cautious—as soon as you pass the opening, the water disappears again. He doesn’t like it, so he’s set wards to keep it at bay within. Descend the ladder and move along the deck. You’ll see the bones. The bracer you want is among them. We’ll do our best to keep his attention. Go.”

  “Thank you,” she said. The ghosts faded from her sight. She took three long breaths, letting them out slowly, then slipped through the curtain of water onto the deck. The hatch she sought lay just behind the mast. Swimming to it, she lifted the latticed cover, let it fall slowly back. Inside the passage, she saw rungs. She straightened her body, reaching with her toes to position her feet on the highest rung, and pushed herself down through the water.

  The ghost hadn’t lied. Just past the edge of the hatch, all was dry and cool. She climbed down the ladder, glancing around. Cannons were secured on either side of the deck and the weight of them cast an eerie shadow in the already dark space. She held for a moment, but nothing moved. Perhaps the ghosts were distracting the mage as they’d promised, or else he’d not noticed her. There was no time to waste. She crept along the deck, watching the dark corners for any sign of the mage. As she passed the last cannon, she saw it. A bundle of rags and bones. Around one of the skeletal arms rested a circlet, covered in heavy black tarnish. The bracer; it had to be. She bent, reaching out a finger, and scratched gently at the blackness. It scraped away, revealing a bright sparkle beneath. Silver. She’d found it. Hooking her fingers under the smooth edge, she lifted. The desiccated tendons crackled and the hand fell away from the arm. The bones clattered softly to the deck, freeing the bracer.

  Aysu rubbed the tarnished silver with her thumb, turned it in her hand. Such an innocent object, just a round circle of metal. Somehow she’d expected it to glow, or bear magical markings. How could something so plain be so important? She would never understand magic, and, the sooner she delivered the bracer, the happier she’d be. Now that she’d found it, she realized there were no pockets in her clothing, and she hadn’t brought along a basket to carry the bracer back with her. She couldn’t swim as well with something in her hand, and she didn’t want to slow herself down any more than necessary. Best if she wore it back. She slid the bracer over her hand, pushing it up her arm until it stopped at her elbow.

  “Well done.” The voice made her jump. Fedder had returned. He smiled at her. “You’ve found the bracer.”

  “I did,” she said. There was something strange about the way he was staring at her. Not at her, so much, but at the bracer itself. She crossed one arm across her body, blocking his view. “Did you manage to keep the mage busy?”

  “Oh, he’s quite distracted,” Fedder said. He stepped forward. There was a faint glow to his skin. How had she missed it before? He reached for her and Aysu stumbled backward.

  “I’m leaving now,” she said. Where was the ladder? She wanted to turn and run, but she feared turning her back on the ghost. She was beginning to think she’d been fooled, and so easily.

  “No,” the ghost said, “You’re going to help me.” He pulled out the whistle again and blew a short burst. One of the gray sailors appeared, but this time, his face was twisted in fear. He seemed to be pulling back against something, something that drew him closer. Fedder waved his hand at the sailor. He swept up into a swirl of silken gray, spinning into the center of Fedder’s hand and disappearing. Fedder closed the distance between himself and Aysu, bending his fingers into quick, strange shapes. The charmed rag on her arm twisted, the knot coming loose on its own. It fell away. She tried to catch it, but Fedder laughed.

  “Their blood washed away as soon as you entered the water. Their little charm was useless. Not that I couldn’t have broken it. The brethren should have known better. Or perhaps they did. Perhaps you were a sacrif
ice to appease me, to apologize for all their mistreatment while I’ve been locked away here.”

  “You’re the mage,” she whispered.

  “Well, yes. And you’re wearing my bracer. Which means I’ll finally be able to make this ship fly.”

  He continued weaving his fingers together, apart, in and out of each other. She’d never seen anyone move their hands that way. Aysu couldn’t move, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to any more. She was fascinated, watching the movement of his hands. So fast, so smooth. And she could almost detect when he would start the series over, found herself waiting for it. The bracer on her arm pulsed with a quiet warmth, glowed in the shadows. Magic. He was doing magic. She smiled.

  “Yes, girl, that’s right,” he murmured. “Let me in. Carry me to the surface within you.” He was close to her, so close she thought he might step right through her.

  From behind her, a whirling cloud of gray exploded, sliding between Aysu and the ghost mage. She fell back, startled, and all at once was herself again. The mage’s mouth was open, screaming with no words, and the last two ghost sailors were flying at him and through him.

  Aysu scrambled to her feet, and ran for the ladder. Climbing as quickly as she could, she burst forth into the cool ocean water and pushed off the hatch edge to swim to the surface. But something caught her foot. She looked back. Fedder—no, not Fedder, but Pen—had hold of her foot, and was pulling her back. Anger suffused his face, anger and madness. Through the gloom of the water, she could see the sailors still whirling around him, but he was too strong. Unless…

  She grabbed a sodden bit of line that still dangled from the mainmast and pulled. He drew back. She moved one hand, pulling herself a little higher. She didn’t need much, just enough to pull her foot above the level of the water. Her hands began to slip on the slimy rope and she screamed, the sound bubbling through the salty water.

 

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