As if in response to Aeris, the whole passage fell silent. The wind fled once more into the thin fog. The dark cliffs loomed over us like the shadows of giants. The Weaver creaked and whined as she drifted and as I peered up into the rocks, dread showered me like cold rain.
I turned on my heels and quickly made my way across the ship to Vidar. As if he sensed my approach, he turned to face me, our eyes locking for a fleeting moment. But then a sudden commotion shattered our connection, pulling our focus to the port side. Vidar instinctively recoiled, barely evading a hurtling projectile that sliced through the swirling fog. It embedded itself deep into the base of the mast between us, its long shaft quivering from the impact.
Vidar snarled, grabbing the spear and freeing it from the wood. All eyes were on the cliffs surrounding us. The men solidified their positions on the harpoons and anyone on the deck had their flintlocks at the ready. I drew my cutlass from my belt, my eyes piercing the darkness to see rigid cliff faces, but nothing seemingly out of place.
“There!” someone shouted.
We all turned toward the scream and found a harpoon gun absent the man who was just on it. It took less than a heartbeat for the severity of the situation to sink in.
“All hands!” Vidar roared.
“All hands on deck!” Mullins echoed.
The chaos changed from trying to keep the ship afloat to defending her from the beasts lurking in the rocks. Another spear whistled past me, clearing the deck completely. As I turned to watch it pierce the opposite stone wall, a figure was leaping at me through the mist, its wide, toothy maw open for a bite.
“Xhoth!” Meridan announced.
I raised my cutlass, slicing through his belly before he hit the deck. Entrails and ink-like blood spilled out before me as the body flopped toward the edge. All around me, more were flooding onto the ship. Unfolding to their full height, they looked like great, lanky demons, their soulless red eyes glistening under the starlight like glass. The familiar sounds of shouting, metal clashing, and pistols firing echoed through the canyon. The squirming xhoth at my feet reached for me, disregarding the way his insides were in a pile beside him. I drove my foot down onto his wrist, pinning it, and jammed my cutlass through the soft tissue of his eye socket before moving on to the next. The voices of the men were drowned out by my own determination and anger as I fought my way towards Vidar.
“Kroan,” a gnarled, deep voice spoke.
I spun to find one of the xhoth standing over me, wide mouth smiling. He flexed his jaw, snapping his teeth together loudly.
“We hungry,” he said. “You bring us food. We keep you for fun.”
I did not waste a word on the beast before I started swinging my blade. The sons were slow and lumbering, but their skin was tough. Every time I made contact with his flesh, I could feel that I wasn’t doing much damage. And when he drew back his spear to lunge, I staggered back, pinning myself against the railing. I was prepared to dodge, but before I had to, foul-smelling blood exploded from his head, spraying across my face. The xhoth tripped forward, careening over the side of the ship. Standing with a smoking rifle pressed to the pit of her shoulder was Aeris just before Nazario appeared to usher her below.
So, she did have other uses.
It didn’t take long for the men to clear the ship of hostiles. The attack was direct but swift. The twitching corpses of Akareth’s sons littered the deck and without wasting a second, the men were loading their guns and positioning themselves along the railing, aiming toward the rocks.
“Keep her steady, Nikolai!” Vidar shouted, reloading his pistol.
Silence settled over the ship like a cloud. I made my way to him, my clothes blackened with blood, and stood at his back, peering through the fog in search of movement.
“How many do you think are residing in these cliffs?” he asked.
“Can’t tell.”
As if in response to our conversation, a series of sharp clicks and guttural words that sounded less like speech and more like the tones of a strange instrument began to fill the canyon. The men were looking about, trying to determine where the noises were coming from, but in truth, they were coming from everywhere. The sides of the ship grated against the rocks and she continued to moan every time in complaint and then, like a blessing from Lune, the canyon opened up again.
The ship cleared the high peaks and entered mildly choppy water, but the threat had not left us. I could still hear the commotion in the waves and the chatter between the rocks, but in open water, at least we could not be ambushed as easily. I switched my cutlass to my other hand, wiping my bloodied palm on my shirt.
“This journey gets more interesting by the second,” Vidar commented.
“Strange choice of words.”
A couple of the men chuckled at that, but I wasn’t sure if they were amused or going mad. I was inclined to believe it was a little of both.
“Reload those harpoons, men,” Vidar ordered.
Those that were not on guns stood huddled near the center of the ship, waiting for another assault, but none came. It didn’t seem right to me. Fighting them off felt too easy. The canyon had been the perfect place to launch a real attack that would maim the ship and yet we defeated them with barely any casualties.
I turned my head, halfway glancing at Vidar.
“Aye,” he said. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“It was too easy,” I said.
