A tail as fat as a mainmast latched around my leg, yanking me down into the inky depths of the weeds. The light dimmed as the massive female lamprey roiled about in the seaweed,tightening her hold on my calf as she slithered about to get her head near me. The dull yellow glow of her eye sent a shudder of fear through me as the pressure to breathe was increasing. Miserable bitch. My dagger sliced through the water, striking just beneath that glowing yellow eye. Not the hit I had wanted, but it was enough to cause the mother lamprey pain. Her hold loosened. I pushed skyward as she writhed about in agony, clearing the darkest part of the clump and bursting to the surface to suck in air.
“A big bitch is below, and I’ve just made her incredibly mad!” I shouted to the crew hanging off the rails. Each man shouted an “Aye, Captain” in return as I dove back under, my goal now to slay the breeder before she got hold of the ship. With her girth, she would pull us down like a child’s toy boat.
Grandmothers of the sea, Sisters Three, blessed be your calling, imbue me with the gifts of air and sea combined, for my job here shall be a long and tiring one.
The lucent throbbed as I swam into the morass, calling up a basic spell my father had taught me after that terrible day Hyla had lost her leg to save me. A very basic transmutation spell, yes, but a good one nonetheless. My magicks flowed through the lucent outward, easing the slide of water into my lungs, making it warm and weightless. The magicks persuading the water to become more breathable, working on the air found in all water. But only for a few moments. Even a witch such as I could not linger under the waves forever. And if stressed or injured, breathing becomes much harder, so it was important to stay calm if possible.
Knowing my time was short, I pushed into the seaweed, the soft leaves brushing against my chest as I searched for the mother lamprey. She came out of nowhere, a rushing attack from the left that opened up a gash on my forearm, the round mouth filled with rows of teeth that could shear steel, grazingpast. The cold water eased the pain, but it also carried the blood to other predators. I felt the water in my lungs grow heavier. There was no time to fret over sharks. My attention was needed here. I lashed out at the lamprey as she swam past, opening up a gash from her gill to her dorsal fin. The creature thrashed about, ripping seaweed free, while small eels as long as a broom handle scattered outward as their mother tore apart her nest in a fury to find me. Swimming back, dagger in hand, I waited at the edge of the torn weeds for her next attack. My lungs began to feel tighter and tighter.
The eel darted at me, its sleek body tangled in slippery dark green weeds, and I struck out before the last of the hard-held magicks dissipated. My strike opened up her belly, the water churning into a red froth as her internal organs spilled into the sea. I pushed to the surface hard, bursting upward beside the ship. Gasping, I glanced up to see a blue dragonling ripping the head from a lamprey a mere two hand spans above me. Viscera fell into my face. I sank down into the sea to wash it off, bobbing back up, working to breathe properly. Jaculi soared off, dead meal in its mouth as his friend, the scout, leaned over the rail to fire an arrow into the skull of the lamprey chewing on the hull at sea level. It went slack. I swam over to pry it free and went on, diving under to kill and remove the miserable things dozens of times.
Finally, after exhaustion pulled at every inch of me, I made another pass under the ship and found no eels attached. Coming up to the surface, I gave the crew a thumbs up as a rope ladder was tossed down to me by Hyla. With her helping hand, I climbed wearily over the rail, dropping down to the deck with a grunt. My first mate leaned in to examine the gash on my arm with a keen eye.
“Pith will tend to that,” Hyla said, running a motherly eye over me. “Any other injuries?”
“No, none, just a headache,” I confessed, which happened anytime I was under the waves for longer than a man should be. It would pass. “Are we all accounted for?”
“Aye, we are. Just some scrapes and cuts, nothing a bit of salt and a shot of rum won’t cure. The men are examining the hull for any breaches.”
“Good. Tell them to apply tar to any they may find until we can reach Light’s Keep. We can pull into port there to replace any boards that may be too weak to survive the trip to Celear.”
She nodded, stumping off to tell the men my orders. I took a seat on a crate of dried fish, thanking Simon for a bit of cloth to dry my sodden head. The dragonling, Jaculi, sat on the deck eating his lamprey, his sight on me as he chewed.
“How many of those did you slay?” I asked of the wyrm. He regarded me with intelligence in his reptilian eyes before showing me a bloody paw. Five sharp, curved claws dripping red were held up. “Impressive.” The beast nodded. Rumor had it that the dragons were not lacking in self-confidence. “I will not tolerate you biting my crew.” I reached over my shoulder to gather my hair to wring it out. “I do respect that you are a dragon and so wish to have a hoard. I will see you are given a copper a day for the journey, but you must share the crow’s nest with my crew. Is that acceptable to you? I will point out that if you had allowed my man to see out, as it is his duty, we could have avoided the lampreys’ nest entirely.” He licked his lips with a thin, forked tongue, then, ever so subtly, gave me one nod of his leathery head. “That is a yes to our parlay?”
Beiro appeared at my side, bow and quiver in hand, as Asdren clomped up with four dead eels in both hands.
“He says he accepts your tithe and will not bite anyone else.” A pause. “Unless they step on him or call him a mere lizard.”
Sitting back to rest my shoulders on the rail, I exhaled deeply. “Then so be it. Do we think that I might go eat my watery eggs now?” My stomach rumbled with hunger.
“We’re having eel stew for dinner!” the dwarf announced as if it were a delicacy to him. Probably it was because the stone folk didn’t dine on seafood often. Eels were foul things I’d been forced to eat as a child. My hunger faded. Perhaps I would skip the evening meal and just drink wine instead…
THREE PASSES OF THE MOONS HAD COMEand gone as we did our best to keep the Cloud’s Shame from springing leaks.
I’d been in the hold just this morn, glaring at the dozen or so small circular globs of tar mixed with oakum—the fibers teased out of old, unraveled rope—to cover the pinholes left behind by the chainjaw lampreys. Pinholes became larger if not sealed. The proper thing would be to put into port to have the damaged boards replaced. Watching the men slathering more of the hot, sticky, and very pungent mixture anew on the inside of the hull, I contemplated doing so when we reached Light’s Keep. The port was a fairly large one, with a famed lighthouse, so that the job could be done if we could find a willing shipwright. I knew of several who were not averse to taking a privateer’s coin. If that privateer had any coin left after paying rental to a dragon in his crow’s nest.
“We should be coming into sight of Light’s Keep by the end of the forenoon watch,” Hyla informed me when I returned to the deck, my boots slightly damp from the seawater slowly seeping into the lower decks.
“Good. The sooner we can put into port, the sooner we can stop mopping up leaks,” I replied, striding over to stand at the rail to spy a pod of ridged porpoises swimming alongside us. With a smile—for porpoises were known to save sailors lost at sea—I pushed a bit of magicks into the waves, a boon to theporpoises, for the waves brought fish to the surface as well as a boon to us. The sooner we could get a shipwright or even a skilled ship carpenter to replace the damaged boards, the sooner we could set sail once more. Although why I was feeling excitement mingling with dread, I dared not contemplate. Instead, I focused on sea life. The blue-gray beasts leapt from the sea, chasing flying fish as they broke from the waves. “Any news from the capital?”
“No, none that I know of.” She moved to stand at my side, leaning her strong forearms on the rail, the hoops in her ears bright silver and gold. “I’ve not seen the raven since we rounded the Frozen Point, so perhaps it has taken a missive to the king from the scout?”
“Mm, perhaps.” I stared down at the porpoises. What a joy life must be when your only concern was finding fish and procreating. If a soul did return as the green-skinned wood elves believed, then I hoped I came back as a ridged porpoise. Living in the sea, swimming joyously while eating, and fucking when the mood struck. “Perhaps it grew weary of salted fish.”
“Could be. Captain. Coelum.” The use of my given name onboard pulled my sight from my spirit beasts to my first mate. Hyla stood straight as a mizzenmast, but I knew her too well. I could see the worry in her gaze. “It’s been several days. I’ve given you space to come to terms with things. I’m not one to let things fester. If a splinter breaks the skin best to dig it out.”
“I recall your thinking about splinters quite well.” My gaze moved from her back to the sea. The winds blew back my loose hair. “I recall many things. How you would quiet me during the night when father was ashore or locked in his quarters with a whore or four.”
“Like father, like son,” she mumbled under her breath, but loud enough to be heard.
“Aye, that trait and many others I seem to have inherited.” A moment passed. The ship sailed down the coast, the sun bright, the winds strong. “I also remember you telling me tales about the drift mother and the entire continent the colossal creature carries on her back. You told me of the bell of the north and how after naval battles, the ringing of bells has been heard by survivors to signal the arrival of a loathsome beast coming to feast. You told me to never light three lanterns in a polar fog, for it would attract frostcoil young. That whale bones carved with runes will repel the Iceveil Kraken. That frozen blood on the deck means the pale sirens draw near. You told me about women and men, and to be a courteous and kind lover. You told me about the moon sisters. You told me about the stars and how to use them to navigate the seas. You told me of books and wine and song and the joys of life. And yet for all that you told me, good mother, you never told me the truth of my birthright.”
I looked at her now. Tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away. One did not weep on a pirate ship in front of the crew. Even if one had just lost their father. This I knew to be a fact.
“I wish I had never listened to your father. Aye, he kept me close to help with raising you, and for that I am eternally grateful, but now I see you should have been given the truth of things. I’ve done wrong by you, my child.”
Fukkate. When she spoke to me so gently, that was when the anger and hurt inside began to melt. Aye, she should have told me, but she had been forbidden. I’d seen my father cast off members of his crew who had displeased him. Hyla had lived in that fear until his death. She thought of me as her own child, the one who had died and left her bereft, while filled with love that she then fed to me along with mother’s milk.
