by C J Timms
‘Personal!’ Roared Giltynan. ‘A bloody killer is walking the grounds of the university, you were found at the scene of the crime, trenchwalker, and you won’t give us your alibi because it's personal!’
Helios raised a hand, ‘No need for that language, James. There might have been a murder, but there are standards to uphold.’
Gale gulped and looked up at Helios. ‘Well it's just, I was coming back from a meeting with a…a…’
‘Spit it out, boy,’ said Giltynan.
‘A…lady of the night.’ Gale said.
Giltynan spluttered, his face going even redder. ‘Am I to understand you were out whoring Knott.’
‘Yes Professor, although I don’t think they don’t like that name. It is the oldest profession.’ Gale said.
‘An ancient profession steeped in tradition, he’s right.’ Urms said. Giltynan shot him a look.
‘Urmm…can you provide us with the name and contact details of this lady of the night, Gale.’ Urms asked, scratching his head.
‘Well gee Professor I could,’ Gale said.
‘Excellent, let's have it.’ Said Giltynan pulling out paper and pen. ‘I’ll get a search warrant out within the hour.’
‘Well if you say so, I just don’t know how much luck they’ll have finding Kitty Bangs.’ Gale said.
Giltynan got halfway through writing it down, then looked up at Gale.
Chancellor Helios leaned over his desk. ‘I don’t suppose this young lady left you with a contact phone number Mr Knott?’
‘No Chancellor though I could show you my empty wallet if you wanted some evidence of my night?’ Gale said.
The corner of the Chancellor’s mouth twitched just a little, not a smile, not in this setting. The promise of a smile or a good belly laugh at a later date.
‘Urmmm…that blood curse is quite advanced magic Helios. Knott here might know a trick or two, but that is old magic. Putting it simply I would suggest that Gale’s best factor in his defence is his relative incompetence.’
The Chancellor nodded, and even Giltynan seemed temporarily mollified. Incompetence was a bloody good defence sometimes.
‘Take him home Urms, Giltynan stay, we need to talk about security.’ The Chancellor said.
Urms walked Gale back to the Lighthouse. At the entry, Urms turned to Gale, squaring his shoulders and firming his gaze.
‘Spending your time out whoring is probably not what your parents would have wanted.’ Urms said.
‘I never knew my parent’s Professor.’ Gale said with a flat tone, ‘So I wouldn’t know.’
Urms shrugged, deflating again. Urms looked away and shuffled back to his room. Gale climbed the stair and slammed the door to his room shut. The Blood Knight had been on the island, it was no safer than Ionhome. He still had frak all idea who or what the Blood Knight was. Was it after the King Tide? Was it working with the Rust Knight?
He needed to get into the Black Library to get answers. Now that he had his Tempest, he could finally try out something he’d been working on in the Eureka room.
His Tempest popped out of one of his shirt pockets in a miniature form, no bigger than a mouse. Gale watched the little ball of energy bounce around the room. This was this the symbol of the dark power inside him?
The Tempest turned to Gale. It asked, its infant voice speaking in his head.
‘Sorry little dude…hmmm I really need a name for you don’t I.’ Gale said.
His Tempest looked up at him panting, its head cocked. <’/Snacks?’>
Well, thought Gale, at least he’s not asking to go poop. Wait…would he do that?
Gale gathered all the food in the kitchen that he thought a prophet of the apocalypse might like. He tried salmon, kippers, muesli and his Tempest snubbed them all. He opened the bin to throw out the last of the fish, and the little creature came waddling over. It jumped into the bin and pulled out a half-eaten pancake from yesterdays brunch. It chowed down enthusiastically, even offering a little burp. The bits of pancake floated in the semi-opaque body of water, dissolving.
‘So you like that huh little guy. Pancakes, that suits you.’
Gale fed Pancakes the remains of his previous brunch, trying to calm his mind. Why had Giltynan been out so late? Why had he been so near the scene of the attack? Maybe he’d just sensed the magical use from the attack and had investigated? He was part of the Inquisition.
Gale was tired of lacking answers. He was tired of shooting blind in the dark. He had power, now he needed the truth. The truth about his family and the Blood Knight. About the Rust Knight. About whatever had been kept from him.
He knew where he could get some answers.
The Black Library.
Gale - A picnic on the beach
The fathomless come to our realm to raid and destroy, yet they are rudderless, like a pack without a leader.
Journal of Grimace the Heretic
Gale rubbed his hands together for warmth, the pre-dawn glow just trickled over the promontory. The cold wind off the ocean fit Gale’s mood, autumn’s stiff breeze turning to winter’s biting chill. The soft thrum of the blowhole broke the quiet.
Gale had gotten little sleep after Tideline. Heartstrings offer left a bitter taste in his mouth. Swan and Yip weren’t talking again, and the Scaled he’d seen haunted him. He’d managed to do something to Stitch-up, but he didn’t know what. He needed something to reset his fortunes, he needed a win.
Gale would catch Blush approaching this time. Blush had snuck up on him during every early morning lesson. He'd eliminated the possibility that she was sneaking up from the land side. Therefore she must be using one of the blowhole tunnels or scaling the cliff from the ocean. Today he’d extended a fine web of water across the promontory. A motion sensor trap. He’d spent a full week perfecting it with input from Yip and Swan. Titus had been the test subject.
Blush had been giving him private lessons for weeks now. The Deep Hunter classes had taught him little about how to control his powers. He’d continued to train in the blowhole at night, challenging his strength, building his capacity. Blush’s pre-dawn tutoring sessions were still a secret. He appreciated that Blush was sticking her neck out to help. That didn’t change the smug attitude he got every time she snuck up on him. That ended today, his plan was bulletproof. Blush would be caught like a fly in his web.
‘What are we looking for,’ whispered a voice in his ear, so close he felt the heat of her breath. Gale groaned. Behind him Blush looked on in mock seriousness. She raised a hand to her forehead to scan the horizon. She was dressed in jean shorts showing off her toned legs and a white blouse that hugged her figure in all the right places. Gale’s eyes flicked back up to her face, she wouldn’t have seen him staring, not in the dark. Would she?
Could she see in the dark?
‘Nothing.’ Gale said. ‘What are we doing today? What kind of trap do I have to escape from this time?’
‘No traps, today is a field trip.’ Blush threw a basket of food and supplies at his chest. Gale caught it and held it out at arms length. The last basket she’d given him to hold had been full of choker-weeds. He’d spent a whole afternoon pulling out the thorns.
Blush lead him to the edge of the promontory. She took a deep breath and pushed her hand out towards the water. Gale slipped into the Vibe and tried to view her Script, but it was masked. She broke a fracture in the water below them, waves entering it fractalised before resuming their whole form on the other side.
‘Stop staring,’ Blush said. Then she looked back at him, winked and unbuttoned her shorts. She shimmied out of them, rolling her hips then pulled her top over her head. Placing them down on the ground, she looked back at him over her shoulder. In a two-piece bikini, Blush looked fit. Blush drew her red hair up in a bun it revealed scars crossed her back, old scars. ‘Water looks good.’
Gale’s pointedly looked out to the horizon and then studied the fracture she’d made. Blush dived into the waves below, disappearin
g into the world-fracture. Gale ripped off his jumper, shirt and beanie then cannonballed into the waters.
The warmth hit him immediately. He landed in the shallows on a tropical beach. White sand stretched left and right under clear skies. Balmy temperatures and tropical breezes. A grinning Blush greeted him, and Gale narrowed his eyes. He looked around in the Vibe, there were no traps or monsters to fight. Just a pulling at his Script, a soft touch on his core. Something he wasn’t used to. Blush gestured to the beach ahead of them.
Holding the supply pack at arms length, Gale unpacked it onto the beach. A picnic blanket, a cheese platter, bbq meat and some salads. Now he was really suspicious.
‘This isn’t gonna be like the time you tricked me into a blue-bottle nest is it?’ he asked.
Blush shook her head grinning wider.
‘What..will cooking the meat attract an apex predator?’ Gale said.
Blush punched him in the shoulder. ‘Settle down killjoy. Just eat, everyone gets a break once in a while.’
Gale spread the blanket out in front of him and took in the coast. They were on a large island with several smaller islands around them. There was a new island being formed far off in the distance from volcanic activity.
Blush flopped down on the blanket and beamed at him. She helped herself to some crackers and hummus. ‘So today's test will be a barbecue. Also, you’ll need to try to determine our location. Chop, chop on the barbecue by the way.’
Gale’s stomach rumbled.
‘Well, I won’t turn down free food. We’re buying toilet paper in bulk to save money.’ Gale winced internally. Smooth…he thought. Nothing impresses a girl like how much toilet paper you’re buying.
Gale unpacked the kindling materials to start a fire. He gauged the surroundings, based on climate, the tree growth and volcanic activity he estimated they were near the equator. ‘Are we in the Galapagos?’ Blush had been mad keen on Darwinism after all.
‘Mmmm close but no cigar’ Blush said. She slammed down prosciutto between two rice crackers. Then she stretched her arms up above her head and laid down on the beach.
They could have been anywhere tropical, he had no way of checking. With a shrug of his shoulders, he left a hint of the Vibe in his vision and focused on getting the steaks cooked just right. Gale did the steaks medium rare and then put them to the side to rest. Something began to nag at him, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. Over the crackling of the wood fire, he thought he could just hear something. He shut his eyes, listened to the soft breeze, the lap of the waves on the shore. He could feel the pull again, something unsettling his Script.
‘Are you doing this because of the attack? Is this pity for what happened to Ironchurch?’ Gale asked.
Blush shook her head. Gale cut through the steak and growled. He hadn’t left them to rest long enough, and blood spilt onto his plate. He cursed and flipped the thing into the fire. Blush just looked on with a half-grin.
‘Blush do you know anything about the Blood Knight, surely they’ve asked you how to hunt it down.’ Gale asked.
Blush looked out to the ocean, a frown creasing her forehead. ‘I can sense something in Ionhome, but not locate it. It's like someone has stirred up the seafloor and the silt masks it. Maybe the attack earlier in the year, there’s a lot of fathomless blood staining the harbour now.’
‘You must know something that could help?’ Gale asked. He hadn’t been able to go back to see Ironchurch since it happened. The thought of the powerful egomaniac laid out, with those parasitic sigils.
Blush stared out into the water for a long time. ‘There is a story that my parents told me. A story meant to make you fear the Deep, to practice it with respect. A story about a baby born in the crashing red foam of a naval battle.
The story of the Blughadda.
They tell of a baby born to a mother who died in childbirth aboard a ship under attack. Bleeding out as the ship was assaulted. A baby whose father captained the ship. A baby whose father was struck down by a hail of spears from above, nailed to his own mast. A baby born on a sinking boat named ‘Sailor’s warning’ surrounded by death. A baby born crying in hunger, starved of food, love and kin.
The ship broke, sinking beneath the waves and water poured into the cabin. The baby cried out with its first breaths, its final breaths. With a shriek, the babe was swallowed by the Deep. Corrosyv reached out and showed…not compassion, for it is not capable of that, but kinship. Corrosyv responded to the primal instinct, to its need, to its…hunger.
Many years later, the annual grand hunt in Wyldfell went wrong. The hunters found themselves tracked through the forest. The last man to survive, dying of his wounds kept repeating the same word, ‘Bloodswell’.
Later that year in Oreheim, a master smith disappeared for two years. When he stumbled back into his village, a red brand carved on his forehead he died muttering a name, ‘Blughadda.’
In the final battle of the War of Brothers, in the reefs of Mt Axis, soldiers from both sides reported being attacked by a red shelled creature in mockery of a man. A monster that fed off them. A monster they named the Blood Knight.
I’m not gonna tell you to run away from the Blood Knight if you find it. But you should use your head. You don’t paddle directly against a rip.’
Blush lapsed into silence, staring out at the sea. Gale poked the fire. This Blood Knight seemed to be able to traverse the realms at will. How? There must be some trick, after all, Ash was able to get through the barrier. He needed to talk to her soon.
‘You need to think beyond the next rent payment Gale.’ Blush said. ‘The Splinterpoint Gate Exam is rapidly approaching. It looks bad for me if my students don’t pass. Don’t be selfish and think about me for a second.’ She smiled.
‘I’ll be alright,’ Gale shrugged, ‘I passed the entrance exam.’
‘You came in last.’ Blush quirked an eyebrow. ‘And this one isn’t a team-based test, it's all on you. If you have one of your fits, if you lose control of your Script, there isn’t anyone to pick you up.’
Gale shrugged again. The truth was the Splinter point gate test was weighing on his mind. It was a crucible, you emerged forged or burnt out. He was getting stronger, but he hadn’t overcome the attacks of breathlessness that came with overuse of his powers.
He scanned the sky overhead, and something emerged from a cloudbank. The white clouds shifted in the breeze, and the stern of a ship emerged. The ship was old, covered in scars and burns. The ship hung crooked in the sky, giant nails the size of tree trunks jutting into the air. The vessel was faintly translucent, like it had…well…like it had sealed a fracture.
The ship’s name came into view ‘The Arghost’. The ship’s bow was missing, only half of it was visible.
‘The remainder juts out over Volkstorm.’ Blush said. ‘It wasn’t fixed perfectly, so it’s still there, part ghost, part real. Some days I wish someone would just burn it to the ground.’
Gale turned his attention to the ocean, trying to calm himself. From above, a flying creature darted down snapping prey out of the water. It glowed with green internal light. Frond like tentacles propelled it through the air in a corkscrew motion.
That was a skyfish.
Gale spat out his steak. ‘This is the Deep.’
Blush nodded with a wink.
‘You took me on a picnic to Hell.’
Blush rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t be such a drama queen, all realms have their quirks. Celesta-Firma has ravaging wyverns, Oreheim has giants, even Ionhome has its sand spiders. I mean really, anything in Ionhome outside the city is poisonous or wants to eat you. You use the power of the Deep Realm to fuel your Script, does that not suggest to you a relationship? Or a business transaction? A compatibility that should make you at least consider, this is not Hell.’
‘I use what I was given, to take what I need’ Gale said.‘You’re the one who keeps talking about taming the power, breaking it to your will. I pay the price every time I use it, my chest tightens
, I struggle to breathe, fluid crowds my lungs. Overuse it, and my skin starts to burn.’
Gale felt that pulling at his core. Felt his Script calling, like to like. Feeling the power of the realm.
‘I see you fighting against your own body Gale,’ Blush said and placed a hand on his arm leaning in. ‘I could...improve things for you. Give you the strength you need to crush the Splinterpoint Gate. To become a fracturesmith.’
Gale hesitated. ‘What do you mean.’
‘Use of Deep Script is difficult to master. It makes your body wants to breathe water, you are like a fish without gills. It makes your palms sweaty, your chest tight. When a Deep realm user reaches a certain level, they must make a choice. To bind themselves deeper or plateau. To stand in the shore, in the shallows or dive in.’
‘How?’
‘You must focus some of your Script into a container outside of your body. This allows you to channel its power without filling your lungs with fluid. There have been many names for this over the years, a familiar, a maelstrom….a tempest. To summon a focus for your tempest is easiest during storm conditions. Barring that a large whirlpool or maelstrom is sufficient. The Gulf of Corryvreckan in Scotland, Moskstraumen off the Norwegian coast, damn even Niagra Falls was trendy for a while. The insane even might try Saltstraumen near the arctic circle.’
Blush leaned in towards him. ‘This is not a decision made lightly. Building a Tempest will link you to the Deep realm forever. There are no free meals in this world. Borrowed power must be repaid. The Deep will come to collect its toll. The strong-willed may resist its siren call, but the tighter you tie yourself to the realm, the harder it becomes.’
Blush leaned in further, staring into his eyes. She paused and pulled on his Script. He felt his Script wake, it heaved around inside him trying to break free. His heart pounded, and his chest tightened. He felt Blush leaning in closer, brushing up against him as she dragged his Script out. It was so close to breaking free. Blush wrapped one hand around Gale’s arm, and the other ran along his chest towards his heart. His Script strained towards her.