King Tides Curse

by C J Timms

  ‘Penumbra.’

  What memories had been stolen from Ironchurch? He’d seen that coral on Ironchurch’s chest before, during sparring. He’d punched it once by mistake and nearly broken his hand.

  Up close, Gale studied the blood sigils. He held his own hand in front of his face and let Deep Script flicker over it. No one else could use this magic. Maybe he was the only one who could fix this? He lowered his hand to hover over Ironchurch’s chest, the Deep Script rolling off his palm.

  The red marks flared in response to Gale’s Script, they pushed and pulled like the tide. Gale slammed his palm down on the blood sigils and tried to crush them beneath his weight.

  Gale’s blood boiled and a terrible hunger possessed him. His stomach screamed at him, he would never be filled, he could devour the world. He felt a dark void surrounded by countless hungry mouths. They would chew him up and spit him out. Then replace him with another.

  Someone grabbed Gale’s shoulder and hurled him back from the bed, beyond the stone circle. A teacup lay shattered on the floor. Liam jumped back over the stone circle, drawing his sword. The red curse marks swelled, whipped to a frenzy. They funnelled blood-red marks into the air, the markings forming into a humanoid shape. The shape swelled to nearly six feet with claws and fangs. Then it lashed out at them, snapping at the stone circle, pushing the boundaries. The stones flared, keeping it within them.

  The wraith stared at Gale and licked its lips.

  ‘Be careful, you fool.’ Liam said. He pulled Gale back to the door, well outside the ring of Script stone markings. Liam slammed the door shut and pushed Gale up against the wall. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I just thought I could do something. The bite is Deep magic, so I thought I could counter it.’ Gale said, looking down.

  ‘Its old magic gale, blood magic, curse magic. Yes, its a thing of the Deep but you’re still a pup. That Blood Knight is old, something chewed up and spat out by time.’

  Gale nodded, staring down at his feet. He’d been useless again. Not strong enough.

  ‘Liam what are the bone-white coral pendants, I’ve seen them before.’ Gale asked.

  Liam grunted and waved him off.

  Gale pressed him though. ‘You said Ironchurch saved you when you fell, were you in the army together?’

  Liam stared up at the ceiling for a long time. Then he reached beneath his shirt and pulled out a set of white bleached coral dog tags. ‘This is the symbol of a Dredger.’

  ‘What were the Dredgers?’

  Liam frowned, shaking his head. ‘There are…gaps…in my memory. There was something done to make us forget. We were in the army during the War of Brothers. We were expendable. Something weakened, though, when I burnt out. I lost my Script, but it weakened the spell. Memories flash through. One memory has grown stronger since I met you. I am sure now, I didn’t know him well, but you are the spitting image.

  I fought with your father. I knew him as Adelphus Knott.’

  ‘Adelphus,’ said Gale, rolling the name around in his mouth. Now he had a name, it was something. A way to find the truth about his families disappearance.

  Liam looked back to the door. ‘Ironchurch, he…has no memories of most of our time as Dredgers. He cannot remember your father. But something in his gut must have told him to help you. His subconscious, his…entrepenuerial instinct.’

  ‘What happened to my father? What were the Dredgers?’ Gale asked.

  ‘I…cannot say…much.’ Liam choked on the words. He took a pen and tried to scribble down something, but his hand froze on the paper. He threw the pen away. ‘Your father was a hard man. Adelphus Knott would not have been killed in a random mugging on Earth. That was the Penumbra covering things up.’

  Gale nodded, ‘I saw another person with the tags, in the Salt mines, a man named Squall.’

  Liam shook his head, trying to dislodge a memory. Then he barked a laugh, ‘Squall you stubborn bastard, still hanging in there. How was he?’

  ‘Looking good?’ Gale said. Liam laughed harder.

  ‘Liam…how did you burn out?’ Gale asked.

  Liam turned his Scaled palm over and stared at it. ‘Gale, someday you may find yourself in a situation where the choice is between breaking yourself and giving up. I chose not to give up for the greater good.’ He spat to the side. ‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but the Scaled path is built on the nobly sacrificed.’

  Gale paused, if there was anyone to trust, it would be the man who defended Ironchurch.

  ‘Liam, have you ever heard of something called the King Tide’s Curse.’

  Liam rested his head back on the wall. ‘The King Tide’s curse no…’ He hesitated. ‘Something…a gap….’ Then he banged his head back on the wall. ‘No…its gone.’

  Gale nodded, more questions to follow. More work to do. One of the fracturesmiths came to retrieve him.

  A group of trackers and smiths had gathered downstairs. They showed him to a map rolled out across a table.

  ‘Can you do it, can you find this creature?’ One of the smiths asked.

  Gale nodded, ‘I put a tracking device, a barnaclad, on the Blood Knight during the fight. I can track them down, now that my Scripts recovered a bit.’

  He slipped into the Vibe and saw it. The trail of his barnaclad, mixed with blood red Script. Neither enough to track on its own, but together it lit a pathway. To the Blood Knight.

  ‘You can rest Gale, you just got the stuffing kicked out of you. Take a moment.’ Liam said.

  Gale shook his head. ‘I can’t stop now, there’s a monster to slay, and we’re the heroes.’

  ‘You aren’t a hero Gale.’ Liam said. ‘You’re a human who eats and sleeps and pisses like everyone else. Don’t forget that, push too hard, and you’ll break.’

  Gale shook his head. ‘Let me know if anything changes with Church, he was a good man. I …I shouldn’t have cussed at him so much, he helped me out when I was hitting rock bottom.’

  He’d seen the Blood Knight in the Salt Mines, he hadn’t done anything. He’d been too afraid to act. Maybe if he’d stopped them there, maybe if he’d acted like a hero…Ironchurch would still be standing. He slammed the table with his fist.

  There was no time for sleep. Gale was done holding back. It was time to be a hero.

  It was time to hunt the monsters.

  Gale - A monster hunt

  Loyal friends for much of their lives, Za’sterix and Addison were nonetheless polar opposites. The two brothers greatest difference was their belief in the individual or the greater good. Addison believed in the rights of the person while Za’sterix emphasised the right of the state, the greater good. Their beliefs can be seen in their choice of weapon. Addison weaponised Salt, he made it a powerful drug the individual could choose to take. Za’sterix however gave power to the masses in the revival of Canutism.

  The Journal of Grimace the Heretic

  Gale pulled his hiking pack closed, he pulled the knots tight and clipped in his short-nails. The dawn already pushed heat at him, the low sun reflecting off the Ionhome dessert. The sort of heat that got sweat under your armpits and plastered your shirt to your chest.

  They were going hunting.

  A sprawling patchwork quilt of airships and platforms interlocked around a large fracture. Gale let his eyes slip into the Vibe and could see the slowly fading crimson of the Blood Knight’s trail. With a group of fracturesmiths, he’d tracked the Blood Knight to a jagged fracture in the desert around Ionhome. The College had erupted into a frenzy.

  They’d called in everyone. Senior smiths, registrars, interns, even the students. The university was using the hunt as a bloody test. They’d substituted this as a monster hunt exam.

  Which to be fair it was.

  They were hunting a monster.

  Gale moved through the crowd keeping an eye out for the fracturesmith who’d sent him to Ionhome on his eighteenth birthday. He remembered his parting words. ‘Go to the university, becom
e a fracturesmith, stop the Worldflood…’ he muttered.

  He’d been too weak again. He’d gotten soft, lost focus. He’d been out drinking with the boys instead of training. The stakes were too high for that. Unless he wanted to end up like Ake, grafted. Unless he wanted others to end up like Ironchurch.

  He needed to be stronger, and he was relying too much on others. He gritted his teeth, it was time to hunt. Blood for blood.

  Thinking of Ironchurch, he patted the copy of ‘Lifting Great Weight’ in his coat. He’d read a bit when he couldn’t sleep last night, making it to halfway. In his other pocket he carried Spur’s primer for fracturesmiths, the 1st edition, unredacted. He’d made slow progress on that one, it was a meaty book, all text, only rare pictures, not even a picture of the author. It was a raw textbook, cranked out on a shoestring. No polish or gloss, just the bare bones of smithing. Enough to get cracking.

  Still, he wouldn’t find the truth about his father, his mother or the smith who’d sent him here by reading books. He had to get down to business. He’d stopped hunting the truth about his father, Adelphus. He’d been so sidetracked by passing exams and paying his debt that he’d lost focus. Forgot his mission. Now though, he had a name.

  Not that he’d had a chance to look into his father’s name. Everything had moved so fast since the attack on the Ironchurch. He’d only stolen a few minutes of sleep while support teams were gathered to advance into the fracture. Scouts had gone ahead into the break, leaving him behind. They’d been able to track the trail in the Vibe once Gale showed them. Gale summoned his harpoon and stood to attention outside the fracture. It was time to get serious.

  Titus’s backpack smacked into his side.

  ‘Ah but Titus, I thought you once arm-wrestled Paul Hogan in Gundagai pub?’ Sterling said, tying off more of his luggage onto Titus’s overburdened back.

  ‘I did, and I beat him, plenty of witnesses. I can carry more than this, you watch.’ Titus said, shouldering some of Sterling’s gear.

  Swan cut in smacking Sterling over the head. ‘You earn your place newbie, Titus let Sterling carry his own stuff.’

  ‘Fresh air, ay Gale? Good for the constitution.’ Titus said. Titus threw a bulging pack of supplies at Gale. Already overburdened with hiking gear, Gale swayed dangerously. Titus was laden down like a pack mule but gave him two thumbs up, a soft glow on his tattoos. The rest of the Lighthouse had taken their place, waiting with the other students. Yip and Swan, both buried under mountains of cargo followed them. Yip looked like an overambitious hermit crab, bearing a shell five times too big. Yip’s journals floated at key point helping stabilise his pack.

  Gale ignored Titus. Titus should know better, he’d been there when they’d lost. When they’d been too weak.

  Titus clapped a hand on Gale’s shoulder, both of them staring at the fracture. Higher ranked fracturesmiths were already moving through. ‘Take heart Gale, Rule number one.’

  Gale raised an eyebrow.

  ‘You’ll learn it soon enough,’ Titus said with his usual unquenchable grin.

  Swan had deliberately stood as far as possible from Sterling. Yip stood as far as possible from Swan. Sterling crept behind Titus trying to offload more gear.

  His all-star team.

  More students came to stand beside them, representatives from every house. The members of House Solvent were a flashy bunch. Bella had dozens of trinkets tied through her hair and uniform. Flowers, gems, shiny rocks. Barefoot on the scorching sand. She had heavily calloused soles, toes wriggling in the sand. Her twin Hotaru was similar but with less trinkets adorning her, just a beaming smile. The two Wyldfell twins jumped on Swan’s shoulders, to get a better look at the fracture ahead of them. They peered over the ranks of waiting students.

  ‘Oy…bugger off.’ Swan said as the twins clambered on her.

  ‘Swear jar.’ Hotaru said, holding out a clear glass jar.

  ‘Oy you lot, who gave them a reefing swear jar.’ Swan glared at the rest of the Lighthouse.

  ‘Alisdair’s leading us,’ Yip said. ‘Vesuvial’s belching backside.’

  Alisdair and House Laurels moved through first amongst the students. Gale had tracked the Blood Knight here, he should have the lead. Frakking hierarchy.

  Giltynan, Herlov and Blush stood beside the fracture. Giltynan grinned and gestured to a series of floating supply wagons. Wagons with handles. Wagons with no beasts of burden.

  ‘Ah, the Lighthouse’ Last through the gate ay? Still, someone needs to bring food for the rest of us.’ Giltynan said.

  ‘Oh, you can’t be serious.’ Sterling muttered.

  Swan punched his shoulder ‘Welcome to the Lighthouse, hot stuff.’

  Each of them hauling a large wagon of supplies, in addition to that strapped to their bodies, the Lighthouse members trudged triumphantly towards their quest/exam. They’d be marked on how well they guarded the supply wagons. They were the defenders of bread, dried jerky, lemons, beets, potato, and spare fixation nails. Team Lighthouse, paladins of the pantry.

  Gale reached the fracture and Giltynan cast eyes on him, soft blue Penumbra rolled off the edges of it. Giltynan ran a hand through it and stared at Gale. ‘I’m watching master Knott.’

  Blush stepped up beside Giltynan and snorted. ‘You should let him hunt, Deep wants to hunt, you feel it don’t you lad.’ Resting a hand on Gale’s arm, she stepped in close. ‘Do good, pretty face, don’t frak up. I’ll be joining the hunt soon.’

  Gale stepped through the Fracture.

  The air was brutally dry. So dry it sucked the moisture from your pores, stopped sweat before it formed and left Gale grasping for his water skin. At least the sweat marks around his collar, back and chest evaporated. Ionhome was hot, but this was frakking nuts.

  A medieval city made of salt rose around him. Abandoned buildings, worn down streets, crumbling pipes. All of it made of rock hard salt. Gale slipped into the Vibe. Definitely salt and not Salt. No magic to it.

  How curious.

  ‘Where the bloody hell are we?’ Titus asked.

  Yips journals scattered, he looked over at Bella and Hotaru.

  ‘Wyldfell!’ they both yelled with glee.

  ‘This is where you’re from?’ Gale rasped out, the moisture leaching from his throat. He looked at their bare calloused feet on the scorching hot ground. Titus offered them spare pair of pluggers, but the twins waved them off.

  ‘Well its Wyldfell alright. Most of the realm is jungle though,’ Bella said sniffing the air.

  Alisdair led the supply train out of the salt city. Statues, again made of salt, lined the streets, reaching upwards towards the sky. A salt flat, stretched out before them in all directions in a basin. Ringing the basin on all sides was the dense green of the jungle, just visible on the horizon. The sun overhead beat down mercilessly from a purple sky.

  ‘Get moving, we’ve got a ton of ground to cover’ Alisdair yelled. Each house had been asked to choose five representatives for the mission. As the Prime, Adam had been allowed to join the forward teams of fracturesmiths. That left ‘Captain Numbnuts’ as Swan had put it, in charge.

  The gruelling trek across the salt flat was a dull one.

  ‘I spy with my little eye…’ Titus said.

  Swan smacked him on the back of the head. ‘Its gonna be salt, its been salt the last four times.’

  The forward teams had marked a winding path in the ground with small waypoints. Following the trail, they wound their way through areas where the salt concealed a quagmire of mud beneath it. One house Baxtro student fell from the path and had to be pulled out with ropes.

  They reached the edge of the salt flat around mid-afternoon. The salt flat started to merge with dry forest. Dead, grey trees marked where the salt table had risen, new growths of saltbush taking their place.

  Within five hundred metres of the dead trees, the climate changed radically. Between one step and another, they entered a tropical rainforest. The searing dry heat became a blessedly mugg
y moist tropical temperature. The forest grew steadily denser and wetter, the ground beneath their feet turning from hard soil to marsh and then swamp. Sweat dripping from the armpits and back.

  One of Yip’s journals floated back to him from high above. Yip scanned it and flicked it over to Gale. The journal had drawn a map of the area surrounding the salt city. The map showed a perfect circle of desert carved out of the jungle. Gale nodded to Yip who flicked the journal back into the sky.

  What had happened to that city?

  A ruined structure rose from the forest. Worn and crumbling stone overgrown by rainforest. In the dwindling light of dusk, Alisdair called a halt. They were exhausted but set camp quickly and bunkered down. Gale set out his swag then went to help Sterling in the mess he’d made of his tent. Swan snorted in laughter, Yip scrawled in his journal while Titus tucked into the food.

  The wind groaned through the trees, making them crack and stir. One of the larger branches snapped off a tree Bella called a ‘widow maker’ and collapsed Alisdairs tent. Alisdair ordered everyone to move into the centre of the ruins, where the trees thinned out. Gale repacked his swag, and they trundled inwards. Sterling tried to move his tent still set up.

  Gale had trouble sleeping. Titus could sleep in a hurricane and Yip slept with military efficiency. Something rung in his ears, like water trapped after a long swim. He shook his head and tried to focus on it.

  A faint ghostly whisper came to him, ‘Sing the lead, my love, the lead my love and rest on your belief, your followers are waiting still, down in the Devil’s Reef.’

  Gale shot up in bed. Last time he’d heard that song had been the Blood Knight’s attack. What was this song he kept hearing? Was it part of his curse? Was he going mad? Was it something in this ruined fort.

  He pushed out of his swag, grabbing a torch and summoning his harpoon. He stared around the ruins for a long time, unable to shake an itch between his shoulders or the sense of water trapped in his ears. Swan and Sterling rose to join him. Gale cocked his head at them.