The Absolution lurched and
Ellis, who had only just settled into his hammock and was even then wondering
why the ship's bell had started ringing, was thrown out of it and onto the
shuddering deck. Others, who had just
been waking at the time, found themselves similarly catapulted and it took a
few moments for the confusion of limbs that followed to be untangled and for
everyone to regain their feet.
"What on Shadow was that?" called out one of his cabinmates,
an older, bear-like sailor named Nikolai.
"Did we run aground?" asked another.
"No, we'd have heard the hull tearing if we had," a third
replied.
They could hear the sound of hurried footfalls on the deck above them
and the ringing of the bell continued.
"We'd better head up on deck to find out, then," Nikolai suggested
and, as most senior of all in the cabin (bar Ellis, whose role remained
undetermined and thus largely ignored), he led the way out and up the gangway
onto the deck. Ellis hung back, however,
listening to chaos unfolding above him for just a moment, then he made a dash
after the others once the corridor was clear.
He was heading for the Captain's cabin.
Gulliver felt dazed. He was lying
in a pile of rope which had broken his fall and, probably, saved his life. Another sailor nearby had not been so lucky
and had stumbled over the port side of the barge into the waiting mouths and
eager teeth of the velocignaths. Her
screams had not been pleasant to hear.
He lifted his head and tried to take in the situation. All around chaos seemed to be unfolding like
the curtain on a stage, cut loose from its scaffolding to fall upon the
actors. The men and women of the crew
were running in every direction, some with a clear task in mind, others
performing some contradictory action and many more just trying to find
somewhere they considered safe. All eyes
and thoughts were now on the beasts in the water below them, but, despite the
apparent lack of anyone being in control, still the Absolution pressed forward
and, as Gulliver looked towards the bow, he could see the strange white cavern
opening out before them.
Filled with blue-white light, its waters a shockingly bright turquoise,
the cavern seemed vast, stretching off to left and right so far that its
distant walls were little more than a thin grey line. Above, a luminous ceiling gave the impression
of a clear, winters sky the first time one glanced at it, until the mind
processed just how much closer it was than any real sky. Beneath, dotted about across the brilliant
blue, were hundreds of islands, each a different size and covered in
unblemished, powdery snow, even dusting the spiky canopies of the small fir
forests which grew upon many of them. On
some the outline of buildings could be made out, but on one, the largest
Gulliver could see, lying straight ahead in the middle of this underground
lake, there was a small dock, just perfect for a ship of the Absolution's size. Colourful lights twinkled out across the
forest beyond and a billowing stream of smoke rose, as if from a small chimney,
somewhere within.
Gulliver took all this in in seconds as the Absolution cleared the tunnel and began to sail straight for the
island. He was too surprised by it all
to think clearly, until the ship gave another wild lurch and he remembered the
pod of velocignaths swimming alongside.
The bow veered to starboard, and instead of the dock and the eerily
cheerful woodland, the Absolution was now pointing towards a much nearer island
with an rocky coast, iced white. They
were going to run aground.
Someone needs to take control, he thought, Where's the captain? Where's Siren?
The door to her cabin was locked.
Ellis shouted through, called her name, but there was no reply. He felt panic starting to rise within him,
pumping in his blood. He fought it down.
"Siren!" he tried one more time, then, "Klarise!"
Still no answer.
The Absolution was made of
metal. If this had been Siren's cabin on
the mostly wooden Crest, he knew he
could have knocked it down with a few (painful) rams from his shoulder, but
there was no point trying that here. He
would only injure himself and would end up no closer to determining whether or
not Siren was safe. There had to be some
other way to force the door. He scanned
the corridor, looking for something, anything, that could help. It seemed almost desperately empty.
"Where is she?" It was
Harker, dashing down the gangway with a look of fierce determination.
"Locked in her cabin, I think."
Harker brushed past, tried the handle, pushed with his shoulder.
"I've already tried," Ellis said, trying to sound calm,
"we need to find something to force it, like a crowbar or..." he
tried to think. If Ember were with them
then he would just be able to pass through the door without opening it, but the
enigmatic Fallen had opted to do some reconnaissance for them in advance of
their arrival on lake Nightglass - searching for the obelisk and for any signs
of where the others might be. He could
reappear at any moment, or not be seen again for weeks, either way, they needed
something more tangible right now.
"The crew need direction," Harker said, staring back up at the
gangway, "I'd better take charge for now.
You keep trying."
"Aye aye," Ellis replied half-heartedly and barely noticed as
Harker disappeared back onto the deck.
There had to be something he could use, but he just couldn't think of anything. His mind was too crowded with worry for
Siren. He needed someone to help,
someone who could think clearly and was good at solving mechanical problems.
He dashed along the corridor, towards the berths of the Former Baron and
Miss Barkcastle.
Gulliver raced to the wheelhouse.
When he had stood, hoping to see Siren about to take charge and instead
discovering that there was no one steering the barge, he had made a
decision. It would be him. He would save them. So, dashing past panicked crew, leaping over
rolling barrels and the debris of smashed crates, he ran, watching the island
draw ever nearer and the window of opportunity to avoid a collision
dwindling. He was running so fast that
he had to catch the edge of the wheelhouse just to stop himself, using all that
momentum to swing himself inside. And
then he was faced with the wheel mechanism itself. Partly steam-operated, partly hypostatick, it
was probably considerably more complex than it needed to be and Gulliver had
never used it before. Aside from the
wheel itself there were a great many levers and a confusing mess of gears and
pipes which prevented any quick assessment of what might do what. He knew the rudder was locked, but wasn't
sure which lever would unlock it. Of the
other levers, at least one would direct more power to the engines, which would
only speed their doom. He had no idea
which one he should flick, but he figured their only hope was to take decisive
action and live with the consequences.
He had never been very decisive, however, so he found himself resorting
to a rhyming game he had played when he was a child.
"One an' two and three and four,
Choose a number, pick a door,
The Grinder's 'ere, your time 'as come,
Don't 'esitate, just pick this-"
"Don't flick that lever,
Gulliver," came Harker's voice from the entranceway. He sounded out of breath and, to Gulliver's
surprise, also a little afraid.
"That'll release all our ballast."
"Oh," Gulliver stepped away from the wheel, "so what one
do we need?"
"This one," Harker replied, pulling the second largest lever
all the way down. Almost instantly the
wheel began to turn. "Grab the
other side, will you?"
Gulliver obliged and together they wrestled the wheel back under
control, then began to pull hard to port.
Slowly, painfully slowly, the Absolution
began to turn away from the island and back towards the dock Gulliver had seen
before. Harker pulled another lever
about halfway and the sound of the engines began to die down.
"Keep an eye on this for me," he asked, looking Gulliver in
the eye. "I'll send a pilot through
as soon as I can to dock us properly."
"What are you goin' to do?"
"Get the crew into some sort of order and do something about those
velocignaths." He made for the
door.
Gulliver hesitated a moment then, "'Arker?"
"Yes?"
"Good luck."
His brother managed half a smile, then disappeared out onto the deck.
Ellis didn’t have to go far. The
Former Baron Von Spektr, Miss Barkcastle, Rockspark and Lord Blood Dragon were
all together in the corridor outside their cabins, apparently having an
impromptu conference.
“It’s chaos on deck,” Rockspark was explaining as Ellis dashed towards
them, “but Harker’s trying to take charge, with some success. He needs us to help him find a way to get rid
of those velocignaths, however. We won’t
be able to assess the situation properly until they have been dealt with.”
“Where’s Siren?” Miss Barkcastle asked, quivering with concern.
“She’s still in her cabin, I think,” Ellis managed through gasping
breaths, “and she won’t answer or open the door. I need help to get in and check she’s okay!”
“I could break the door down, I’m sure,” replied Rockspark.
“Then that should do very well as a course of action, oh yes,” said the
Former Baron, “Blood Dragon and I will look into what can be done about the
velocignaths up on deck, Rockspark and Miss Barkcastle will help Ellis with
Siren. Everyone agreed?”
There were several nods of heads and then the aging philosopher and
ancient Vampire ascended towards the main deck, whilst Ellis led the Spiketail
shaman and the elderly engineer back to Siren’s cabin. He had not thought about Rockspark’s
Lithoderm strength, but now he realised that it was probably just the thing to get
through a thick metal door and then both Rockspark and Miss Barkcastle would be
on hand to deal with whatever lay on the other side. He could only hope that Siren was okay.
There was a blast of musket fire as the Former Baron and Lord Blood
Dragon emerged from below. Harker had
lined the crew up on either side of the deck, armed as many of them as was
possible and ordered them to fire every time a velocignath arced past. Harker was himself leading the line on the
starboard side and, as they watched, ordered another volley of fire, before
bracing himself against the gunwale as the beasts rammed the side of the ship
once more.
“Is it doing any good?” Franck asked as he staggered to a halt before
Harker.
“Only a little,” Harker replied, “but most of the pellets don’t seem to
be penetrating their scales.” He wiped a
hand across his brow. “I’ve never seen
velocignaths this big. Do you suppose…
are they normal in the canals?”
“That is a question for later, I think.
For now, we need to try something else.”
Franck spun on the spot and gazed past Lord Blood Dragon to the barrels
rolling about on the deck. “Where are
the barrels of black sand stored?”
“They should be in the hold, at the opposite end from the engine room,
for safety.”
“And we’re stocked with extra in case of emergency?”
“Of course.”
“Send some of the crew to collect a few of them, say about six.”
“But I need every man and woman firing.”
“And yet you know it’s not working.
Trust me, my dear, dashing pirate friend, and send the crew.”
Harker
shook his head, but did as he was told and soon there were sick large barrels
of black sand sitting on the deck, support by the (exhausted) crew who had
carried them there, in case of another ramming incident.
“Now what?”
“Now we need to throw them over the sides, three each way, I should
think. Get your pilot to put on a burst
of speed as well and set up your best marksmen, each to target a different
barrel.”
“You can’t be serious. That much
black sand… who knows what will happen if you ignite it!”
“I have a fair idea,” Franck replied.
“Please, continue to trust me. I
am not going to blow us up.”
Harker’s expression said he still wasn’t so sure, but he gave the
orders, sending a pilot to the wheelhouse to relieve Gulliver. Once the ship had picked up speed again (and
once more seemed to be hurtling towards a rocky doom), he had the barrels
thrown overboard.
“Now we wait,” Franck said, more calmly than Harker would have believed
was possible under the circumstances.
The barrels of black sand floated despite their weight and drifted
aft. There was a moment of pause, of
tension and anticipation, and then suddenly-
“The velothignathth are turning away!” cried Blood Dragon in delight.
“They’re chasing after the barrels!” cried Harker in surprise.
“Now wait, until they are almost upon them, mouths gaping, then fire!”
It was as if the velocignaths were awaiting the Former Baron’s command,
for, almost as soon as he had finished speaking, several of them rose up out of
the water at once, their huge serrated jaws open, to swallow the barrels
whole. Harker gave the order and the
muskets fired as one.
Rockspark broke the door down on the third attempt, charging it like a
living avalanche, to send it swinging, bent and broken, off its one remaining
hinge. Ellis ran into the cabin as soon
as the Spiketail had stepped aside, took one hurried look around and then
dashed towards the unconscious shape lying on the floor near the desk.
“Siren!”
He knelt down beside her, rolled her over and saw immediately the cut
where she had banged her head against the corner of the desk. She was still breathing, but shallow. Miss Barkcastle appeared at his side and
slowly knelt to join him.
“That’s a nasty cut,” she said, “we’ll need to get it cleaned and
covered.”
“Is she going to be okay?”
“It’s hard to tell exactly right now, but it looks like she was just
knocked out by the blow. I doubt there’s
been any more damage than that.”
Rockspark loomed over them, carrying a small pouch which he handed to
Miss Barkcastle. Inside there were a
number of strips of cloth, one of which was used to mop away as much of the
blood as was possible. There were also a
number of herbs inside. Miss Barkcastle
selected a few of them, crushed them in her hands and applied them to another
strip of cloth, which she then used as a bandage.
They were just lifting her to move her to her hammock, when there was a
loud explosion and the ship was rocked harder than by any of the previous
rammings. The air seemed to tingle for a
moment, and then everything fell terribly silent.
“What was that?” Miss Barkcastle asked.
“I’ll go,” Rockspark replied, rushing out the door without waiting for
any acknowledgement.
The explosion was particularly impressive, Gulliver thought. He had a good view of it from the entrance to
the wheelhouse. One moment there was an
icy sea, writhing with silverbacked velocignaths, the next the world turned
silver white, the lake pulsed with a million hues and a fountain of water and
debris seemed to reach to the ceiling of the cavern. The shockwave hit the Absolution like a tidal wave, but somehow the barge held steady and
the crew were already braced for the impact.
Then a strange thing happened.
For just a moment after the shockwave passed, everything went dark. Not dark in the sense of an absence of light,
for the Absolution’s light were still
working fine. It was dark from an
absence of anything else. The cavern,
the lake, all its ice-white islands, simply vanished into nothingness. But it was not a complete emptiness. Gulliver suddenly had a feeling of being
watched and, if he squinted, it seemed he could see eyes – many eyes, all
clustered together – peering through the darkness from some distant vantage
point.
And then the world returned and from the ceiling of the cavern came a
flurry of shimmering snow to coat the deck of the absolution and land on the
confused face of Rockspark who appeared from belowdecks at just that moment.
The island with the dock was still ahead of them and still seemed to be
inviting them in with its twinkling lights and distant, cosy fireplaces. Harker gave the order to slow and dock,
whilst the rest of the crew were commanded to tidy up the mess on deck. Gulliver made his way over towards his
brother, the vampire and philosopher.
“How did you know that would work?”
Harker was asking the Former Baron.
“I didn’t know, exactly,” the
enigmatic old man replied, “it was just a feeling. All is not what it appears to be here, it
seems.”
“Well, we shan’t stay too long,” Harker replied. “I just want to dock so that we can look over
any damage to the ship. There’s no need
for anyone to head inland an we should be away again within the hour.”
“Yes, yes, yes. That would be
best,” Franck said, but he stared towards the approaching white shore and
seemed to mutter under his breath.
Gulliver couldn’t make out what he was saying, so he walked to the bow
and watched the twinkling lights on the fir trees – and was that music he could
hear on the icy breeze? - and wondered what it could all mean.
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