King Tides Curse

by C J Timms

  Sterling swirled his drink, blushing red emoji’s flickered through the sad blue faces.

  ‘How's your family Sterling?’

  Sterling looked up.

  Gale leaned in, ready to deliver the killer blow. ‘See I think…oh my gosh you have to try these loaded waffle fries, this has real bacon…sorry, I think that you wouldn’t have tried that unless you were in a rough spot.’ Gale’s eyes flicked to the worn travel bag. ‘I think you’ve been putting on a show.’ He punctuated the point with a particularly crispy crunch of potato.

  Sterling set his cocktail down. ‘What do you want Gale, I’ve been kicked out from House Laurels, none of the other houses will take me in after the loss. Even an Aperol spritz won’t cheer me up now.’

  ‘Well see, Yip thinks that that blade represented the scraps of your house fortune. He thinks that without the House Laurels fee exemption, you have no way of paying for this semester. Are you ready to go home to your family just yet? Coz we could use a hand in the monster hunt next month. We need to pass that test and as Yip would say…any opportunity.’

  Sterling picked up his drink again and stared into it. It flitted gold before fading to grey. ‘Do you know what the other houses say about my family? The joke that is told just within earshot? It’s that House Secondus can trace its noble line all the way back to the court of King Arthur. Our founder was the guy who tried the sword before King Arthur and ‘loosened it up’ for him. I nearly punched Alisdair last time he asked me to open a stuck olive jar in the common room.

  Our house has never been strong, minor nobles, bureaucrats who wrote the histories of better men. We administer an increasingly empty silver mine as we fade into the footnotes of history. The only person in my family who ever made something of himself was my uncle Siegfried….but he died fighting in the War of the Brothers, on the wrong side. I put everything on the line for the family, for myself, for the opportunity to seize greatness. Frak I’ve been a dickhead.’

  Sterling received another mood cocktail with an umbrella from the waiter. Illusory soldiers began marching around the walls of the drink, chasing a monster endlessly. ‘You think my family has pushed me into this and you’re only half wrong. But its not family pressure to excel, its ambition. Well, at least I won’t go down alone. There’s no way a commoner like you could afford tuition, even living in the Lighthouse. You don’t need Yip to tell you that.’

  Gale slid a tattered copy of Brene Brown's book ‘Rising Strong’ across to Sterling. ‘Don’t be afraid to rumble with vulnerability Sterling, read this, its good stuff. It showed me how to pick myself up when I fell.’

  Sterling flipped him the bird and sipped his drink.

  Gale stood up. ‘We’re gonna put on a grand show, and they’re never gonna see us coming. We’re going for one last roll of the dice, but this time…we’re not leaving it up to chance.’

  Sterling was silent.

  Gale reached into his pocket and pulled out a small contact lens-like structure. He chucked it onto the table where it clattered to rest in front of Sterling. ‘This is a hydrolens, it's my own personal recording device. I happened to capture the last moments of your fight with Adam.’

  Gale fed a small amount of Script into the hydrolens. An image projected above it, showing the final blows of the fight in slow motion. Sterling watched himself come in for the final blow, then the golden flash that had knocked him backwards. His eyes lit up as he swiped the image to replay it, slower, again…and again.

  ‘What….what is this?’ He muttered watching the last moments of his fight and the golden light in slow motion.

  Gale reached out a hand. ‘Come and write history with me…or you can stay here and sign bar tabs.’

  Sterling looked up and pushed his drink aside. It was filled with proud looking peacocks, tails on full display. He clasped Gale’s arm. ‘Alright, I’m in.’

  ‘Excellent, we’ll need another drink,’ Gale said and held his beer out in front to Sterling. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got a bottle opener?’

  Sterling stared at him for a very long time. Then he chuckled. ‘Alright, tell me the plan.’

  ‘Not here, too many ears.’ Gale responded.

  ‘Not that one, the plan that stops Swan taking my block off when I set foot in the Lighthouse.’

  Gale thumped his chest, ‘Don’t worry, I can manage Swan.’

  ‘You did what!’ Swan said and slammed the Slagblade into the Lighthouse common room wall. Sterling’s head was held rigid just next to it, he gulped. Swan put a foot up to the wall and heaved on her sword, pulling it free.

  Yip sipped his tea, Titus lounged back in a bean bag beside him. Gale could see them subtly exchanging coin, betting on the outcome.

  ‘It's not like Urms is going to care,’ Gale said. They hadn’t heard a peep from Urms since he sent them off to the mines. Occasionally they would hear the sounds of old television shows from Australia playing under his door. Other than that he was a ghost.

  ‘Come on, Swan, don’t you believe in second chances?’ Gale said.

  ‘Second chances are for people who didn’t bother to make enough spreadsheets.’ Yip interrupted.

  Swan put her Slagblade to Sterling’s neck. ‘You owe me a thousand gold for the entrance exam.’

  Sterling pulled out his empty pockets with a shrug. ‘I don’t suppose you could spot me for this semesters fees?’

  Gale looked at Yip for confirmation.

  ‘We’ve got enough to cover him as well, but it’ll completely tap us out. Nothing left in the pot. We’d planned to use the reserves for...the side project.’ Yip said.

  ‘He’s still an unaligned, he can only use raw Script. He’s useless as tits on a bull,’ Swan said putting the sword at Sterling’s neck. She looked at Gale and then Titus. Titus gave her a thumbs up. Swan groaned and massaged her temple with one hand, keeping the sword raised with the other.

  ‘You will do all my paperwork for a month.’ Swan said.

  Sterling nodded as much as the blade would allow.

  ‘You will earn back every dollar.’

  Sterling nodded again.

  ‘You will cover my shifts with the pager.’

  Sterling looked confused, but nodded again.

  ‘And you will compliment me every morning.’ Swan said. ‘Nothing over the top, it has to be sincere, just… like…notice if I do something nice with my hair.’

  Sterling nodded.

  ‘Practice now.’

  Sterlings eyes darted side to side. ‘Errr…Swan…did you do something with your hair?’

  Swan beamed at him. ‘Why thank you for noticing.’ She shot a look at the other three. Now that she mentioned it, Gale could see that Swan had added in highlights. Swan’s blade flicked up and sliced off Sterling’s coiffed moustache.

  ‘Did you do something with yours?’ Swan said.

  Gale - First tuition

  The property market of Oreheim is a trap for the naive investor. The surface properties are bitter cold while the lowest drilled layers of the Strata are warmed by the planets core. I bought a ‘fixer upper’ on the surface five years ago and haven’t been able to shift it since.

  The journal of Grimace the Heretic

  Gale strode towards the cave entrance, one hand holding a heavy brown bag that strained at the edges. Titus and Swan had taken turns hauling it here. Titus now lay collapsed on the ground, and Swan massaged her shoulder. Sterling flanked the entrance of the cave while Yip flitted around in the shadows. This, however, was Gale’s monster to slay.

  Gale’s chest was tight, and a single bead of sweat ran down his back. This was for the greater good, he repeated. It was fine to bend the rules to do some good. His palms clammy, he shifted the bag to the other hand, his biceps already protesting.

  The cave entrance was a jagged rock formation lined with a golden frame. The cave floor ran at a decline and a stream of rocks, no more than pebbles, poured continuously from the roof to tumble downhill. A resounding boom came from
within the cave every twenty seconds like clockwork. The heat of the late summer air outside the cave was nothing in comparison to the furnace-like heat blasting from the cave.

  A shape emerged from the depths of the cave. Lurching upwards, the figure ran towards the entrance. Gale clutched his harpoon and waited. A Baxtro student ran past him in tears, an empty bag trailing behind them. The students face deathly white.

  Gale threw his bag over his shoulder with a series of metallic clinks. Swan and Sterling nodded to him, and he stepped through the entrance. He followed the decline, strolling around the rolling pebbles.

  A soft red glow lit the tunnel, illuminating support struts and handrails. The tunnel descended down until Gale emerged into a great underground cavern. The cavern was filled by a corkscrewing pathway. The path ran in a spiral to a platform at the bottom, thirty metres below. The soft red glow came from a falling stream of lava that poured into the floor of the cavern, creating a lake. Gale knew that at the bottom, his foe waited.

  Boom.

  A boulder twice his height dropped from the ceiling behind him. Like Indiana Jones, he suddenly saw what had to be done.

  ‘Frakking frak,’ Gale cursed and started running. The weight of the bag straining his arms, he charged down the spiralling pathway. The boulder built momentum behind him. The rumbling drawing closer.

  A pit loomed ahead. Going too fast to stop, Gale hurled Script into his limbs and leapt. He launched across the pit with Script enhanced strength and collapsed onto the ground. The boulder fell into the pit behind him. The bag flew out of his grip and hit the floor with a thump tearing open. Gold coins spilt out.

  Bursar Gibraltar looked up from his desk, his stony face taking in the spilt coin.

  ‘You really shouldn’t make it this hard to pay your fees.’ Gale wheezed out.

  ‘Hrmmmmm…it reminds me of home.’ Gibraltar rumbled.

  Gale dusted himself off and began picking up his semesters fees and rent. The bottom floor of the cavern, Gibraltar’s office, was a platform about ten metres across with a desk carved from the rock. A falling stream of molten rock lit Gibraltars hulking figure from behind. Gibraltar held out his coffee mug to the falling stream of lava, to heat it back up.

  Gale took a seat opposite Gibraltar and piled the money onto the table. Their first-semester rent and fees, gathered in pain and frustration. Weekend pager calls and late nights. They’d kept taking them since the first one on Paramoura, mostly category fours that weren’t too hard. The sum of the Lighthouse’s fortune. Now he had to make sure it was accepted.

  Gibraltar started counting the coin. Gale touched the copy of Noel Whittaker’s ‘Making money made simple’ in his pocket for good luck. Without stopping counting, Gibraltar slid a drink across the table to Gale. It was an earthen brewed concoction of dirt and moss in a pewter mug.

  ‘Have a drink.’ Gibraltar rumbled.

  Gale picked up the mug and swirled it, the contents gave off a scent like Chai.

  ‘It's a Strata delicacy, moltenrock.’

  Gale’s stared down Gibraltar and held it up to his mouth. He took a sip. It was quite pleasant, nutty flavoured, rich and thick.

  ‘No gift Master Knott?’ Gibraltar rumbled, ‘Hrmmmmm….most students bring a gift. They understand I am in charge of whether you stay or go. Your antics got you into the university. Only cold hard coin will keep you here.’

  Gibraltar eyed the pile of coin and cracked his neck. ‘There have been many students who tried to fake gold using their Script, but it is immutable. We know gold in strata, and it is…solid as a rock.’

  Gibraltar bit down on a coin and it crumbled beneath his teeth. He chewed it slowly and swallowed.

  ‘Definitely gold. How interesting. Hrmm…now, where would you get that kind of coin? Master Mangrove doesn’t have this kind of money. Master Yip reportedly has a band of pirates looking for him to account for his entrance fee. The Swan’s…hrmmmm…now they have money, but its stretched thin after what Jane did.

  So where Master Knott, did you find a pile of gold.’

  Gale looked straight ahead with a wide grin. Wait what was that about Yip and a band of pirates? Then Gale hiccoughed, he paused, nothing further happened. He looked down at the cup in front of him. He wouldn’t have, would he?

  ‘Well crikey Prof, we just scraped together what we could. Ate a lot of squishburgers.’

  ‘Hrrrrmmmmmmm,’ Gibraltar drummed his heavy fingers on the table with echoing booms.

  ‘Do you know Master Knott, the history of the Strata? How my people hid for thousands of years? We were once hunted for our shells. So we drilled down into the warm earth and left husks of buildings above ground. Deep in the layers of the Strata, we advanced. On the surface, the sacrificed lived in hovels.’

  Gibraltar leaned forward. He loomed over Gale like a rugged cliff hanging over the ocean. ‘We know when someone is playing dumb. We invented it.’

  Gibraltar stuck out a hand, and a tablet the size of a pickup truck ground out from a nearby wall. It flew over to slam into the ground beside them. The tablet was filled with four-digit numbers, and one was highlighted again and again.

  7958.

  Gale’s chest tightened, he forced a smile. This was no different than dealing with Greg at Bondi Big Burger. He hiccoughed again.

  ‘A previously inactive pager has…accrued quite the account. Hmmm.’ Gibraltar said, running his finger down columns of numbers.

  ‘Who did it belong to?’ Gale asked. The owners name would let him track down the fracturesmith that had sent him here. That would lead him to answers about his father. Answers about his mothers disappearance.

  ‘Hrmmm…how very interesting…but none of your concern…’ Gibraltar smiled.

  Gibraltar counted his money pile without comment. He stared at Gale, fingers drummed on the desk.

  Now we roll the dice, Gale thought. Gale leaned forward on the table. ‘You asked why I didn’t bring a gift. You’ve counted that pile of coin. You know I did bring something. Gifts are for children, bringing their teacher an apple. This is a bribe.’

  Gibraltar narrowed his eyes, the lava in the room lit him up in red fire, he ground his teeth. ‘Hrmm…hm, hm, hm. Why would I ask questions when the coin comes my way?’ Gibraltar said and slapped the side of his table hard enough to shake the platform, his laugh like boulders rolling down a mountain. ‘I am the lowest of the Strata, and money always rolls downhill.’

  Gale hiccoughed and brown bubbles began popping from his mouth. Gibraltar’s face widened into a grin. Like an ice shelf breaking off a glacier, his lips pulled back to reveal craggy brown teeth.

  ‘I wish you luck in the Monster Hunt Master Knott, but know that the Strata does not forget its debts. Now enjoy the trip up.’

  Gale - Ironchurch

  ‘Gale, what have you done?’ said Titus.

  A hand-sized version of Shackleton waved from Titus’s hands. Gale chuckled and took a seat in the Lighthouse common room. Paying their debt had clearly worked.

  ‘You’ve turned my mighty guard dog into a tea-cup pig.’ Titus bemoaned, slumping on the table.

  Shackleton clambered out of his hands and tottered towards the other end. Titus placed a mug over Shackleton as he approached the edge of the table to keep him from falling off. A faint clang came from inside the mug. Shackleton seemed less intelligent the smaller he got.

  ‘Come on, Titus, what about a beer. I’m buying?’ Gale placed a hand on Titus’s shoulder. ‘We should celebrate before the Monster Hunt next week. Our first big team test. Should be a breeze compared to pager call outs.’

  ‘Can we go somewhere they have 4X? Somewhere a man can be a man.’ Titus asked.

  ‘I know just the place.’

  ‘Did you say your shout Gale?’ Sterling piped up.

  Gale shrugged. ‘Swan, Yip, you up for a drink?’

  Swan waved him off, having found a good book to read. On the cover a maiden fell from an airship, the title was ‘The furnace of my
heart.’

  Yip didn’t even raise his head from painting his Warhammer figurines. Titus leapt from his chair and gathered Gale and Sterling in a headlock.

  ‘Boys night!’

  ‘Wait, so in Sydney, the property is most expensive by the water? Where the fathomless come from?’ Sterling asked.

  Gale stared into the ocean flying by beneath them on the airship ferry to Ionhome. ‘Its expensive everywhere in Sydney, buying a property near the water is like getting financially kicked in the nuts.’

  The airship docked at Ionhome in the balmy afternoon weather. The golden palm in the centre of the city was tinged red, the red of ripe tomatoes bulging from the vine. Summer had ended, and the leaves were falling from the trees. Rich crimson and orange swirled through the air before falling to the ground. Gale kicked through piles and scattered them across the road.

  ‘So Sterlo, has Swan forgiven you yet? Ya know for ditching her in the entrance exam?’ Titus asked.

  ‘Not yet, how long can a woman hold a grudge though?’

  Titus and Gale shared a look.

  ‘What you need to do is get her is an apology present, like a plant.’ Titus said. ‘Everybody loves a good plant, a little ripper for a window box. Now that says forgive me, and it’s dirt cheap too.’

  Sterling nodded, they stopped at a market stall, and he bought a little cactus. ‘Swan wouldn’t want flowers. She’ll enjoy a cactus, tough, practical and low maintenance.’

  ‘Prickly.’ Gale coughed into his hand.

  In the streets, people moved in groups with their heads down and cloaks drawn tight. Locals eyed them with suspicion, heads turning away when they glanced Gale’s Script. A set of guards followed them at a distance.

  ‘We sure are popular.’ Titus said, jerking his thumb behind them at the guards. ‘Oy do you blokes want an autograph? From the hunters of Deep-breath Beth. This one here is the Man-o-war himself.’

  The guards turned away, busying themselves with other matters. A poster on a wall caught Gale’s eye. A sketched drawing of a knight in blood-red armour was front and centre under the words ‘Fifty thousand gold for capture.’ The poster partially covered an older one promising money for info on the Unbroken.