King Tides Curse

by C J Timms

  Titus had removed his thongs already after entering. Gale placed his boots beneath a teetering stack of books. They took seats around the table, moving piles of books and mini-dragons.

  ‘So what brings you here this early?’ The Bookwyrm asked.

  ‘It's eleven in the morning.’ Yip said.

  ‘Right…the morning, early.’ The Bookwyrm said, running a hand through her dishevelled hair.

  ‘I need information about something called the King Tide and the Nine Waves’ Gale said.

  The Bookwyrm considered Gale for a moment. ‘How intriguing. I could tell you about the King Tide, but what would I get out of it? After all, knowledge is power.’

  ‘Organised knowledge is power’ Yip muttered, ‘This is word vomit.’

  ‘Knowledge should flow freely’ the Bookwyrm said, twirling a lock of her hair. ‘Well, how about a favour? Called in at a time of my choosing?’

  Gale eyed her off, favour was a nice word for debt. Gale slowly nodded and shook on it.

  The Bookwyrm clicked her fingers, and one of the dragons scurried off and grabbed an old book written in Danish. She flicked it open to a page and traced her fingertip down the margin. Purple and pink highlighter covered the ancient text.

  ‘The King Tide is the trigger for the Worldflood. The great flood that King Canute drove back. The Worldflood is not simply something which can be started at will, it is supposed to have an exact series of conditions that must be met. A launch sequence.’

  The Bookwyrm paused, re-reading a section of the text. ‘The exact translation is difficult, but it refers to nine waves preceding the Flood. Some reports describe them as being driven before it like debris before a tidal wave…but…’ She paused again and tapped one pink lacquered fingernail on the book. ‘I would interpret it as meaning they are already in the world before the Flood occurs. The nine waves come first, then the King Tide and only then can the flood be called.’

  ‘Does it say what the Nine Waves might be or how we could find them?’ Gale said.

  The Bookwyrm hesitated and pushed her spectacles back onto her nose. ‘This is somewhat speculation on my part, reading between the lines so to speak?’ she looked at Gale who nodded. ‘If it were me, I wouldn’t want to put the exact instructions into a book for just anyone to read, you don’t put the nuclear launch codes up on yahoo answers right?’

  ‘Useless’ muttered Yip under his breath. Monticore spat a flame at Yips backside, and he yelped.

  The Bookwyrm smirked, ‘Best guess? The Nine Waves and the King Tide would have a powerful aura of the Deep, like a homing beacon. They might be powerful artefacts, maybe portals, fractures or even monster. They should be easy enough to track down on Earth. Just look for the big pile of Deep Script.’ ‘Does it say anything about the King Tide Curse?’ Gale asked.

  ‘Nothing specific.’

  ‘So we need a way to track Deep Script and then get monster hunting.’ Gale said, stroking his chin.

  ‘Sounds a lot like what fracturesmiths do.’ Titus chimed in.

  ‘Yes,’ said the Bookwyrm, ‘This was for an assignment you said?’

  Gale flushed slightly, ‘Ah…yes, part of the Deep hunter classes.’

  ‘Is Blush playing nicely? We tutors do chat you know’ She finished with a wink.

  ‘Well, we best be going.’ Gale said, standing up, ‘Thankyou for the biscuits.’

  ‘One last question,’ Sterling said, breaking his silence. ‘Where does the phrase ‘Noble does not rust’ come from. My grandfather used to say it in his later years.’

  The Bookwyrm paused, tapped her foot, then scrambled over her pile of books to retrieve a worn, ragged tome. The cover was faded, but the book was bound in a polished metal covering. The cover had the same symbol they had seen at the outpost and the entrance to the Heretics cave. Nine weapons arranged in a circle. Beside it the Bookwyrm placed a standard high school chemistry book with pictures of people smiling and having a good time. The Bookwyrm started with the chemistry textbook and opened it to a page of the periodic table.

  ‘In chemistry, the noble metals are those resistant to corrosion and oxidation in the air. There are nine noble metals, think of gold, silver, mercury and platinum as examples. The nine noble metals, are the metals…that do not rust.’ The Bookwyrm placed the chemistry book back on the back of a dragon, and it trundled off. She then held out the text with the nine weapons in a circle. ‘This is a rare text from the period known as the Galvanisation, the period during which Canute rose up and united the people. Most of these texts were purged by the Inquisition in the aftermath of the Redox.

  It’s written in an archaic dialect of Canuteian, difficult to translate for most people.’ She looked at Yip.

  ‘But not you.’ Yip said through clenched teeth.

  ‘But not for me!’ The Bookwyrm continued cocking a finger gun at Yip. ‘This book is, ‘Knights of Noble Metal’. It is believed to describe the nine heroes of Canute, heroes of tremendous power, nine knights who unified the realms against the Deep.’

  ‘So, what happened to them? Were they just a myth or religious figurehead like Canute.’ Gale said.

  ‘This is where the accounts get…skewed. Following Canutes death, his followers fell to infighting. A civil war. This lead to the period of the Redox and the rise of the Inquisition. Canute’s old followers, weakened by infighting, were purged by the Inquisition. They called them heretics who had lost their way. Much of the texts were destroyed. The Nine Noble Knights were hunted down and put to the pyre.’

  The Bookwyrm paused.

  ‘You disagree with something?’ Gale asked.

  The Bookwyrm nodded. ‘From my reading and the context of other sources, I think the translation is in error. Canute did not just have nine Knights of Noble Metal.

  He had nine armies of them.’

  ‘Do you mind if I borrow this, Sterling said reaching out to touch a book.

  The Bookwyrm pulled it back, ‘Nope, this could get you expelled just for having it. You can come here to read it, as long as Titus brings you.’ She smiled at Titus.

  ‘Thanks, B, can I give you a pie.’ Titus beamed.

  ‘Of course Titus, thank you.’ The Bookwyrm said, taking the lukewarm pie Titus produced from his flannie. They left the Bookwyrm to her morning routine. They closed the door and heard the distant snapping of jaws. Gale knew where that pie had gone.

  The walk back to the Lighthouse was spent in silence. Information, but never enough. There was only one place left to look. To find the answers he needed.

  They passed under the shadow of the library. Gale looked up to the library’s uppermost dome, to the dark archives. To get there, he had work to do in the Eureka room.

  The delicious waft of roast lamb came from the entry to the Lighthouse. The smell conjured memories of Christmas roasts and steaming hot gravy. Swan stood in the kitchen beaming, her fluro coloured chef’s apron read ‘Cooking in my activewear’.

  ‘Alright boys, lamb improves everything.’

  Gale/Swan/Yip - Debts

  To Canuteian monks, freshwater is seen as the purified fount of life, the key to humanity's survival. Saltwater, however, is viewed as contaminated, fouled by the touch of The Deep. This author would contend that none of those monks have tried a margarita.’

  The journal of Grimace the Heretic

  The Lighthouse creaked in the wind, the timber shifted back and forth. Titus’s eyes darted back and forth in time with the creaking, his hand hovered over a lone white checker on a board. The common room table was littered with his fallen forces and flakes of pie crust.

  Shackleton sat opposite him, now Titus sized. Titus had drawn a smiling emoji on Shackleton’s face and given him a shirt to make him ‘more at home’. Titus slid his checker forward, staring at Shackleton. The debt golem’s head cocked to the side, then claimed Titus’s last checker.

  Titus groaned and knocked the board over. ‘Best five out of nine.’

  ‘Titus, if you’re done
losing to a glorified abacus, would you like to join us for the house meeting?’ Gale said. ‘I think we all know why I called this meeting.’

  ‘Shackleton is not a glorified abacus, he’s part of the team. Also, I’m not done.’ Titus said and cracked his knuckles. Titus put his arm on the table and commenced arm wrestling with Shackleton.

  ‘I know why you called this meeting, Gale,’ Yip said. Yip had arrived precisely at 11am for the meeting. ‘Someone’s been leaving dirty cups in the sink.’

  ‘No Yip, I got your three messages, that’s not what this is.’ Gale said.

  ‘Sounds like what the cup bandit would say. I found one in my shoe the other day, my shoe!’ Yip said. ‘Exhibit A,’ he held up a shoe with a distinct tea stain. ‘Look I’ve even drawn up another colour-coded cleaning roster.’ Yip threw them all a laminated copy of the cleaning roster.

  ‘Laminated, huh?’ Swan said.

  ‘Yeah, it won’t shred as easily as the last five I made. Not that you’d know anything about that Swan.’ Yip said

  ‘This isn’t about the cups,’ Gale said. ‘This is about debt, our debt and the bloody mountain of it we’ve acquired.’

  Titus grunted as Shackleton forced his arm down towards the table.

  ‘Well, I at least get to take notes for the meeting,’ Yip said. Yip pulled pen and paper from his pocket. Spreadsheets and graphs sprung into the air around them.

  ‘Our debt is compounding. The cost of the monster hunt supplies have made our debt, well…monstrous. Second semester fees are due in one week.’ Gale said.

  They’d been breaking their backs trying to do pager call outs to make up the debt. It wasn’t enough. Most nights, Gale had four to five hours sleep due to pager interruptions. Maybe they should start splitting into teams for different nights. He’d had precious little time to look into his fathers history. Adelphus Knott remained a mystery. He would stay that way until there was free time from on-call duty and debt.

  Titus’s face was flushing beet red, and his arm dipped further down under the strength of Shackleton’s grip. None of his tattoos were lit up though.

  ‘You’re saying we’re rooted.’ Titus said.

  ‘He’s saying we need to take any opportunity we have.’ Yip said.

  Gale nodded. ‘We need money to pay our fees, and even with the pager jobs we’re not making enough.’

  ‘Gale you’ve already got us flat out like a lizard drinking.’ Titus said.

  ‘I know, I know,’ Gale said. ‘That why I called this meeting. Brainstorming session, ways to earn money…go!’

  ‘Poker,’ said Titus.

  ‘Uber driver,’ Said Swan.

  ‘We make a Dungeons and Dragons Podcast.’ Yip said.

  Everyone stopped and turned to Yip. Yip rolled his eyes. ‘You know, you broadcast real-play Dungeons and Dragons games via a podcast or streaming service. Slowly you build up a following until you have podcasts ads, merchandise and your own sweet animated series.’

  Everyone just stared at Yip.

  ‘Errr…what about clinical trials, you know, for experimental drugs and stuff.’ Said Sterling over the top of Ab-stract Fitness Magazine.

  Gale scratched the first two, particularly the one that involved Swan driving. There might be something in the clinical trial idea, though.

  ‘Frak me we’re not doing clinical trials.’ Swan said.

  ‘Swear jar,’ everyone said in synchronous. Swan rolled her eyes and dropped a coin into the jar. The nearly full swear jar of gleaming coins.

  ‘Swan…those aren’t real coins are they?’ Gale asked.

  Swan snorted. ‘Of course not, they’re Script coins. You make them by concentrating your Script into a physical form. They aren’t worth anything, anyone can make them.’ Swan rubbed her temple. ‘Exhausts you though, taps out half your Script just to make one.’

  ‘Could we…counterfeit coins.’ Gale asked.

  Sterling laughed and put down his magazine. ‘You really think you’re the first one to think of that Gale? Look see here.’ Sterling put down a gold coin, a silver coin and one of Swan’s Script coins side by side on the bench. ‘Gold and silver can’t be created by magic. You’re not the first bright spark with that idea. Silver and gold are incorruptible. Sure you can melt them down, but they don’t corrode. They are only useful as currency because the metal is rare and can’t be mass-produced by magic. Now, really look at the edge of Swan’s coins.’

  Gale brought his head in real close to Swan’s coin. There was a tiny amount of coin flaking off at the edge. They weren’t entirely stable.

  ‘A really good Script coin might last up to a year, but it will degrade, and people are very good at telling the difference. You won’t sneak that past Gibraltar.’ Sterling said.

  ‘So the swear jar is a punishment because creating the coins exhausts you?’ Gale said.

  Swan nodded, and an awkward silence filled the room. Swan scratched at her neck and looked up to the ceiling. ‘If we’re desperate…well…I guess, there’s always Heartstrings.’

  ‘Whose Heartstrings?’ Gale asked.

  “Someone my dad used to do business with, takes on loans for up and comers.’ Swan said.

  ‘I don’t trust him already.’ Yip said.

  ‘Yip’s not too far wrong,’ Swan said. ‘We’d be swapping bad debt for worse.’

  ‘Take any opportunity,’Gale said. ‘Where can we find him?’

  ‘That's the thing, he’s based in Tideline.’ muttered Swan.

  Titus’s arm slammed down nearby, Shackleton holding it in place. ‘Tideline,’ he said. ‘That’s gonna be a trip and a half.’

  ‘Well I’m reefing going,’ Yip said. His spreadsheet stretched taut above his head like a frill-necked lizard under threat. ‘No-ones signing a contract without me.’

  ‘Here’s the thing though,’ Swan said. ‘He’s only gonna want to meet if I’m there and in charge. Heartstrings doesn’t trust others easily. You’ll have to come along as my…well, my servants.’ She gulped.

  Gale spluttered out water. Yip crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

  ‘Just spitballing,’ Titus said. ‘Should we have a codeword if we need to bail. Things can get nasty on the Tideline very quick.’

  ‘Like what?’ Gale said.

  ‘Something cool like…lock and load.’ Titus said.

  ‘Oooohhh what about guns out while the suns out.’ Sterling called.

  ‘You don’t get to decide unless you’re coming Sterling.’ Swan said.

  ‘I’ll stay here,’ said Sterling, thumbing through his magazine again. ‘Very busy.’

  ‘Nah, it needs to be something we can drop in conversation without tipping off the enemy. Something we wouldn’t say normally.’ Yip said, pulling open a thesaurus.

  ‘What about smashed avo?’ Titus said.

  ‘Why smashed avocado?’ Swan asked

  ‘You ever seen someone smash an avo? It gets pulverised. Plus, its a phrase none of us are ever gonna use unless its a crisis. Coz when are we ever gonna order a smashed avo? We’re too deep in debt. We can’t afford twenty bucks for brekky.’

  Gale nodded, ‘Tideline it is then.’

  Swan, Titus and Yip all went for their weapons and their gear. Gale locked eyes with Sterling. From behind the magazine, Sterling raised a cup of tea to his lips and sipped. Sterling winked at Gale. Gale shook his head.

  ‘Cut it out.’

  Tideline was one giant slum aggregated on Ionhomes shore, abutting the walls of the city. Reefside, where the Iron Church was built, at least had some extension of old harbour walls to protect it. Tideline didn’t even have that, it was the lowest piece of real estate in the city. Destitute figures huddled beside buildings, pressing away from the sun. Scaled hands pulled rags tight. Two Scaled palmed a pouch of white substance for coin down an alley. A man on the side of the street huffed Salt without any care for being seen.

  The Scaled came from all walks. Soldiers from the War of Brothers, refugees, the down
on their luck. All washed up in Tideline eventually.

  ‘Can nothing be done for burnout?’ Gale asked.

  Swan shook her head. ‘It's been tried, there's a reason they tell you not to burnout. Nobody comes back from it, and no-one’s trying to help them anymore.’

  Gale turned his hand over. The faint shadow where scale had appeared during the entrance exam had faded. He shuddered.

  Swan halted them outside a gaudily painted building. To the right was a boarded-up nail factory, to the left an abandoned takeaway shop. Opposite the building was a dingy pub. A giant sign over the storefront showed a heart wrapped in a diaper, painted on timber. The sign advertised ‘Hearts full of joy daycare’. From within came the caucophony of crying, pooping and tantrums. An alien world.

  ‘Are you sure this is the right place, Swan?’ Gale asked.

  Swan nodded. ‘This is classic Heartstrings.’

  ‘Alright, I want you lot to practice. Remember, you are my servants.’ Swan said

  Gale nodded, Yip gritted his teeth and Titus finished his chocolate milk with a slurp.

  ‘My lady,’ Titus swept his flannie behind him as he took a knee.

  Gale smirked, he took a knee also. ‘Oh, marvellous Lady Swan.’

  Yip knelt as well. ‘Oh, glorious leader Swan.’

  Swan narrowed her eyes and pushed open the daycare door.

  Swan strode inside the daycare with her hand resting on the Slagblade. The room was a bewildering storm of moving pieces. Carers chased after children, flying toys and discarded food.

  Something tugged at her leg. A three-year-old girl pulled at her activewear. The child wore ratty overalls and had a pink bow in her hair. The child reached upwards for the Slagblade. ‘Sword,’ the child said.

  ‘No, it's not for kids.’ Swan said. She grabbed a toy truck off the floor nearby. ‘Here, dump truck.’

  The child beat her fists on Swan’s leg and stamped her feet. ‘Want a sword. Dumptrucks smell.’

  ‘No its really cool see, it doesn’t smell.’ Swan zoomed it along the ground.