by Warren Fahy
Nil hoped to traverse the current as directly as possible while using it to bring them further south and skirt the Illusion Sea to the west. It was his plan to escape the current just in time to cut southwest of the Illusion Sea and reach the Dimrok’s northern shore, where Trevin was stranded. But the unfavorable wind was unexpectedly persistent.
White clouds spread from the southwest and quickly closed over the sky. On their third tack they came to a glowing deepwater reef, only a few leagues from the Isles of Ice and Fire, and, wary of the prevailing current and wind, Nil reluctantly chose to anchor to the reef for the evening and wait for a change in the wind.
When the Sea Mare’s heavy anchor had bitten the reef and her sails were hauled in and furled, Nil climbed down from the bridge and followed the scent of dinner with the others.
As he approached the men gathered before the galley, he suddenly saw, climbing over the port rail, Lelinair.
She strode toward him boldly.
“My lady!” he cried, thunderstruck. “My love!”
She held up their brilliant love-star.
As Nil opened his arms to her, Lelinair paused and then started dancing slowly, twirling before him on the deck, faster and faster, as her body caught fire. He gasped as her dress and flesh peeled away in layers and turned to smoke until a white skeleton danced with flowing chestnut hair whirling on the deck before him. Her joints snapped then and her bones crumbled as her white skull rolled to his feet. But then it floated up and faced him as the bones of her hand reassembled in mid-air and signaled silence against her grinning teeth, the love-star flashing in one of her empty eye sockets.
Chapter 26
Nightmares
“Captain!” Lince cried.
“I know!” Nil answered, clutching the rail, his face ashen. “Weigh anchor!”
Many yelled in terror, but some obeyed him and cranked the capstan to loose the anchor’s grip. Then all of them saw it: a wave rose out of the ocean like a blue mountain to the north.
“Pay it no heed!” Nil shouted.
The men continued to crank the capstan as the ship rose then on the foothills of the giant wave, but as the cold shadow of its crest covered the decks the crew fell to their knees clutching any holdfast they could.
The wave smashed through the rigging and sails, crushing the masts and sending Sowernut to the deck in a broken heap. Nil felt cold as he clung to the bridge rail. Like water, the nightmare drained from the ship into the sea and the astonished men saw calm waters around them, and everything was as it was before, with Sowernut safe in the crow’s nest.
“These are dreams!” Nil shouted. “We’ve entered the Illusion Sea!”
“The sky’s clear, Captain,” Lanning shouted. “The wind’s with us now… We’re fine.”
“It’s a lie!” growled Lince. The ghost of his father crawled over the rail of the main deck, drowned and tangled in seaweeds, and froze Lince’s heart froze as he offered him the sword he had lost with a shriveled hand.
An upsurge roiled the water off the starboard bow, and all turned to look. A green patch spread as it neared the surface.
Long after the men expected something to emerge, the shape continued to grow until it was many times the size of the Sea Mare. Then, at last, it tore open the ocean.
Waves rolled in all directions as it rose like an island from the sea. Foam streamed over the green slopes of a monster’s head and the giant crimson domes of its eyes, which glared at the tiny ship trembling like a mosquito before its horribly complicated jaws. Tobbs fainted dead away as he recognized it as a dragonfly.
The minds of the crew were voided by infinite horror as they choked on the monster’s acrid breath blasting over the decks. They watched helplessly as its jagged mouth yawned like a starless night that seemed to swallow the sky.
Everyone fell on the decks and covered their heads as the jaws closed over them, and they heard each other’s screams and the squealing crunch of the Sea Mare splintering into ruin around them. Then the din subsided and all looked up at a clear night sky on the intact decks of the Sea Mare. A sudden shower of meteors streaked over her masts.
“Never mind what you see,” Nil’s voice intoned. “It’s only a dream!”
“Listen to the Captain,” Karlok quailed.
“Haul the mainmast port,” Nil said, but when they all turned to look at the Captain they saw a ghoul standing on the bridge with a bearded skull over a flapping greatcoat flashing a pale ribcage. “We must turn with the wind till we break free of this nightmare,” yelled the bearded skull at them.
The next moment, it was day again and the sea was rough as ragged black clouds fled over the sky and snow swirled over the decks.
“Go below!” Nil shouted, but all saw only a glistening frog standing upright in a greatcoat. “Go below,” it croaked, glaring at them with wide yellow eyes.
One sailor shrieked as the grotesque Captain climbed down from the bridge and approached them. “Go below! Do as I say!” Nil cried, and all backed away and some ran.
Shediret looked at his best friend, whose face was a charred pit bridged by jutting red teeth, and he ran, raving, and he leaped overboard even as, with a triumphant laugh, the grinning apparition he had seen soared upward and exploded into sparks by the crow’s nest. But Shediret was already swimming with vigorous strokes toward the bottom of the sea, chased by demons that followed him until his heart burst with horror, long before he drowned.
“Go below now!” warned the blue reptile dressed in Nil’s clothing.
The men ran from him over the decks.
Senthellzia sat in a corner with Zee, her eyes closed as she stroked Harm. Zee quickly stuffed cloth in both of their ears.
Nil shouted, “I say again, go below or you’ll be driven mad by what you see! You must save yourselves if we are to survive. What you remember is true! Hold on until you see it again.”
Nil ran to the door of his cabin, and it transformed into a mirror in which he saw the illusion that had been cast upon him, and the image laughed back at Nil, who reached for the knob, which became the head of a serpent dripping venomous fangs. He gripped it tight, feeling cold scales, and twisted it as he felt the sharp fangs stab his palm. He ripped open the door and slammed it closed behind him as his bed changed into a mound of maggots even as he jumped onto it.
He felt the multitude of worms screwing into his skin and screamed, squeezing his eyes closed, and when he opened them he found himself suspended over a chasm gouged right through the Sea Mare. He grabbed the broken edge of her deck as the ocean welled through the breach like a geyser. Nil scrambled for the door and stopped, closing his eyes. It is not real, he chanted. It cannot be real! He felt the water rising over his legs for a moment longer, then he felt dry. The hole was gone and his bed reappeared. But someone was lying on it: King Trevin.
Nil went to Trevin’s side and found him dead, his dry eyes wide and empty. Green seaweed was tangled in his hair and his lips were stained deep blue. His cheeks sunk even as Nil looked at his tragic face. Then Trevin’s hand reached out and gripped Nil’s wrist. “Nil! I’m alive!” he hissed, and his eyes flared crimson as he leaped off the bed and grabbed Nil’s throat with both hands.
Nil stared at the phantom unmoving until, finally, in the face of his disbelief, the specter became fair again and its eyes cooled clear and black. “For a moment, I can reach you,” said the apparition. “Do not try to understand anything here, Nil Ramesis. Weigh these words later, but know that I am alive! Your mission is not in vain. My power is dwindling. Come quickly now.”
“Are you a ghost?” Nil asked.
“I am a reflection, in a mirror, through a window.”
Nil shuddered. “Lord,” he gasped. “What can we do?”
“Hope. I have only this. Let us have it together.”
For an instant the phantom faded, then flared like a guttering flame. “Beware this sea’s borders!” it whispered. “If you save me from the depths, I will save Ameulis. Now s
leep, Nil Ramesis. Before you go mad, sleep.”
The ghost shifted, and then vanished.
Nil clasped his hands against his face but could not feel fingers. He pulled them back and saw ten fat earthworms sprouting from his wrists. He heard screams outside the cabin and a queer thumping sound as heavy legs roamed the decks. But he could not give it a thought. He could not go out there. But the walls around him vanished and whatever shelter they offered was gone: myriad horrors swarmed around the Sea Mare: green gargoyles stared from under the languorous waves with knowing grins as nightmare beasts waltzed into the air with men’s heads. Beautiful mermaids with hags’ faces cavorted in the water as they blew silver trumpets. Seven-legged behemoths with red fur and drooling jaws shambled over the decks as they gawked at the dazed mariners.
Enthralled by the whirling spectacles, Nil somehow conjured a thought. He struck a match and lit a candle on his chart table. The candle transformed into a lovely fairy who cried out in agony as he set her hair ablaze. The match in his fingers turned into a beetle that pinched his finger. He put the match in his mouth to make sure it was out and felt a bite on his tongue. He spit it out and, in one last effort of sanity, bent his head down, running toward what seemed to be a great island in the distance spewing molten comets at the Sea Mare.
His head struck the air with a crashing pain, and he fell to the floor as the wall became visible for an instant before blackness covered his mind.
When Lince woke him up, Nil had no idea how many days or leagues had passed. He kneaded the knot on his forehead, which felt fresh enough.
“That’s quite a lump, Nilly!” Lince smiled. He had bumps and scrapes of his own and looked rather haggard.
“What happened?”
“We drifted clear. We’ve sighted the Dimrok, and Karlok’s setting sail for her now.”
Nil got to his feet and staggered toward the door, grabbing the hatchway to steady himself. “How long were we in? How are the men?”
“A minute after you went into your cabin, Captain, all the visions stopped.”
Nil nodded and glanced at the candle on his table. The candle had completely melted, its hardened drippings flowing down the table’s leg, but the nub of the wick was still warm. “What’s the hour, eh?”
“I don’t know, Captain.” Lince opened the door. “It seems to be about two.”
“That’s impossible. It must be night!”
“Well, Captain,” Lince said. He gestured at the bright day outside. “All seems fair.”
Nil walked out and looked around the decks. All the men were at their stations and the sun tilted just past noon. The ship’s sails were spread to catch an ideal wind from the northeast. The cliffs of the Dimrok rose from the southern horizon, half hour’s distance from them.
“Captain, are you all right?” Karlok called from the bridge.
“Aye, how long has passed, Karlok?”
“Only a few minutes since you went into your cabin.”
Nil climbed to the upper bridge and looked Karlok in the eye. He saw that the elder sailor’s face was bruised and scraped and his clothes rumpled. Just then Nil felt a freezing gust of wind pass over the decks. He looked up at the summer sky and felt the sun on his own hands as he spread his fingers.
“Everything is fine now, Captain,” Karlok smiled.
“Men!” Nil shouted. “Clew the sails and drop anchor! NOW!”
“But, Captain,” Karlok said. “The Dimrok is straight ahead.”
“You heard me, Mister,” Nil growled, turning to his first mate. “Get it done, Lince, by the Gairanor!”
Lince looked up calmly at Nil from the deck before the bridge. “We’ll make yonder Dimrok inside an hour, Cappy!”
All the men hesitated as they looked at Nil.
Nil saw his breath spout white from his beard. “Do it NOW I SAY, or your Captain is mutinied, Mister Neery-Atten!”
Lince shook his head. “There’s no need, Captain!” The Creature suddenly sprang up the ladder to the bridge and curled around Nil’s leg, growling at Lince.
Some of the men complied with their Captain’s orders and undertook the task of taking in the sails.
“Captain,” Karlok said. “You’re haunted by those wicked dreams. They’re behind us now!”
“Gah! Don’t defy me, man, do as I say!” Nil took the helm from Karlok, pushing him aside as he spun the wheel starboard.
The men now clewed the mainsail and lateen and finally some released the anchor. As its chain clunked heavily over the bow, the crew of the Sea Mare turned to Nil.
With a flash of white light, Trevin’s statue finally ignited above them.
Violent thunder rolled overhead as the world peeled away like a torn painting and a different world was revealed: a frozen channel in which they were snared and a sky knotted with purple clouds cracked by lightning.
Strewn across the Sea Mare, the remaining crew shivered with vacant eyes as a bitter wind scraped the decks. Only a few men had actually hauled the sails and dropped the anchor at Nil’s command, assisted by mere phantoms of their mates.
The Sea Mare coasted now toward pack-ice in an ice-bound passage between two precipitous islands.
To the left steep shores rose to snow-capped peaks swathed in stormclouds. To the right was a long shore of black slopes rising to gnarled, blasted peaks that billowed steam from a thousand pores.
Karlok stared forward with an unseeing smile on his battered face. Like many aboard, his eyes had become immune to sight, his mind detached from his senses.
“Wake up, man!” yelled Nil. “We’re out of it only now!”
Karlok smiled, uncomprehending.
The Sea Mare streamed toward the edge of a thick ice shelf as her anchor line pulled taut and she swung about. With a booming crash, her starboard broadside slammed into the ledge. Chunks of ice flowed in her wake and crowded the passage through which they had come, grinding against her port side.
Nil took Karlok by the shoulders and gave him a shake. “Karlok, I need you!” He backhanded him across the jaw.
Karlok muttered as he gripped the rail, shaking his head.
Nil jumped down the ladder to the deck, where he found Lince asleep at the foot of the ladder. “Lince!” The one he had spoken to a moment before must have been a lie, as well!
The Creature rubbed noses with Lince as Nil shook him and finally Lince opened one eye and looked up at Nil. “Aye, Captain! I’m with ya…” he said groggily, rousing himself.
“Get your ass up,” Nil said.
Lince followed Nil across the deck, realizing that he was seeing the truth again at last and yet wondering if he would ever completely trust his senses again.
They raised the men lying on the decks who had become trapped inside their minds where they had escaped for refuge from the mad world around them. They revived Lanning and Sowernut, who in turn helped them rouse the rest.
“You men above, come down and help us now,” Nil called. “You are not crazy, lads! What you are hearing and seeing now is the Hala truth. We need you.”
“Listen to your Captain!” Lince seconded.
Grateful to hear conviction in their voices, the men climbed down from the rigging, only now feeling the bitter cold that racked their bodies.
They found Senthellzia and Zee huddled under the port aft ladder. Both of them stroked Harm with their eyes closed. The bird turned to Nil and cried softly to him.
Nil let the beautiful falcon clutch his forearm as Lince squeezed their shoulders. At last, each opened their eyes, and they started sobbing. They pulled the cloth from their ears and hugged each other before rising and hugging Lince and Nil. Harm clucked on Nil’s shoulder, puncturing his coat with grateful talons.
Nil let the Lady Tunn take back her falcon as he climbed to the bridge where Karlok still clenched the rail. He moved next to his second mate and surveyed the ice around them. The scurrying clouds sent sleet onto the ship now, frosting her lines with icicles. “Karlok?”
&nbs
p; “Aye,” Karlok said, his voice thick and still far away.
“This ice… it’s not going anywhere.”
Karlok shook his head. “No.”
“And neither are we.”
The mariner turned and looked at him. “I’ll never doubt you again, Captain.”
“You better!”
Karlok smiled, his eyes welling.
Nil clasped his shoulder even as he scanned the barren island to their west. Its charcoal shores tumbled gently down to the ice, riven by branching streambeds. Further inland, its peaks were sharp and high. “According to the charts, the Dimrok isn’t far west of this island.”
“The Living Isle, aye,” frowned Karlok, shaking his head sadly. “That’s what some call it, Captain.”
Nil nodded. He rang the bell over the bridge to muster the crew, and as they came together he had Tobbs note that 12 were unaccounted for. Lince took his place before the bridge with the Creature at his heel again.
“We are out of the Illusion Sea only now, alas,” Nil said. “And though the truth is not much better, we can do something about it. The isle to our east is bitter with permanent winter. The dark isle to our west has been called strange names though it seems as dead a land as ever was. Directly on its other side lies the Dimrok, our goal.”
The men’s minds were still wounded by the private fears they had faced, and they stared with vacant eyes, hearing the Captain’s words with a distant self. But as they listened, part of them slowly healed. Hearing a voice they trusted reconnected them to what they knew and anchored them to something safer than the madness they had endured and the connection of their senses with truth, even as he described the new dangers that would be facing them.
“Trevin is still alive,” Nil said. “He visited me in a vision, and I can tell you that he lies with powers dwindling in his tower under the sea, waiting for us. He has not long, though. Pickle, set your galley right and cook us a feast, for who knows how long since we’ve had a meal in our bellies! Give us a dinner to remember though it may seem a little after noon by these cruel clouds and stars above us. We have been at sea at least a day or two or more. Let’s hope not too many more!”