Chapter 16
Lamplight danced across the tapestried walls revealing countless battles of man and beast written in thread.
Sea monsters of one kind or another were either eating stranded sailors, or being harpooned by sailors, depending on who the seamstress favored in each piece.
Teeth, tentacles, things like great whales and things like coiling snakes all made their appearances in turn.
It seemed to Lia that all the red dye in the five kingdoms had been procured for the making of these pieces which was probably why Tavia’s hand was trembling, and her lamp was jittering, and the light was dancing across the walls in the first place.
The corridor leading to the forbidden hall was dark and dusty, abandoned by most of the household.
And yes, there was an ever growing stench that made Lia’s nose crinkly up as she resisted the urge to pinch her nose.
It wasn’t like garlic though—more like some combination of standing water and rotten fish.
“Ugh, what is that?” Tavia grimaced.
Tyrell was clutching the hilt of his sword.
“It’s whatever your fiance is so keen on hiding,” he growled. “When we get there, you’d better let me look first. It’s not going to be pretty.”
Lia decided she was not going to fight him on this one.
A moment later, as she looked across the never ending scenes of ocean brutality, she thought she heard a voice. She was about to dismiss it as her imagination, when she caught Tyrell’s wide-eyed glance—he had heard it too.
A step closer and they could all hear it—the voices of women chanting with the rhythm of a beating heart.
Death, death, death.
The three explorers froze in place. Tyrell’s face had gone a ghostly white, and Lia knew her own cheeks were just as pale. She listened as a haunting soprano rose above the thrumming choir:
Back when I was just a lad, I loved a maiden fair.
Her gentle heart was pure as gold, she’d flowers in her hair.
Alas, my sweetest darling, was careless in her stride,
And tumbling down into the waves was swallowed by the tide.
Tavia started to sway as the soloist faded back into the beating chant. Lia leapt forward and caught her arm, snatching the lamp just before it slipped from her hand.
Her own heart was beating leaps and bounds ahead of the distant rhythm.
“Maybe we should go,” breathed Tavia.
“N-no,” Tyrell was now noticeably trembling but his jaw was set tight in a valiant attempt to hide it. “We must s-see-”
Before he could finish his sentence, the singers broke into a refrain, each one taking a line in turn while the others continued drumming death beneath the rotating soloists. Tyrell extended a finger and whispered a number as each woman wove her line in and out in turn.
Death, death, death to all that sings! “One.”
Death it comes to sailors bold, “Two”
And death, it comes for kings! “Three”
Death, it took my maiden fair, “Four”
With dancing curls of gold. “Five.”
Death so cruel that none would spare, “Six”
It snatches young and old! “S-s-s-”
Tyrell slowly looked up from his fingers and met Lia’s eyes. “Seven,” he finally managed to mouth.
“Eight,” came a voice from the blackness behind them.
Lia shrieked, her scream mixing with that of Tavia and Tyrell.
A crash sounded as the lamp hit the floor and went out.
Some animal instinct sent Lia running directly into the wall which knocked the wind out of her, causing her to stop screaming long enough to breathe.
“YOU!” came Tyrell’s voice. Lia turned around to see that Tavia had fainted on to the floor and Tyrell wasn’t looking much better. Yes, he was technically still standing but shaking so violently, he couldn’t get a grip on his sword hilt.
Julian, for his part, was his usual stoic self—almost. His eyes were sparkling in the dim light of his own lamp, and he was smiling ever so slightly just at the corner of his mouth.
“Is she alright?” he asked, suddenly, raising a brow and nodding toward his wilted fiance.
“Julian?” came Tavia’s tiny voice in answer as she slowly sat up.
“Ah, good,” he nodded. “Don’t worry me like that, dear.”
“Julian,” she breathed, fanning herself with her hand. “You weren’t supposed to be here—this is not what it—oh, I’m so sorry!”
“Not to worry, my darling,” he answered matter-of-factly. “I planned to show you this room eventually, and seeing how you’re so eager, we may as well go now.”
“NO!” cried all three explorers at once.
“No! No!” Lia interjected. “We were just—going for a walk . . .”
“Right,” Tyrell added. “We’ll just get the princess back—”
Julian bunched his lips together as the sparkle in his eye gleamed all the brighter.
“Is everything alright out here, Captain?” a new voice called from further down the corridor.
Lia glanced in the direction they’d been heading and noticed three women silhouetted against a light coming from some distant door.
“We heard screaming.” The woman at the head of the three was brandishing a plank like a club. Scarred, weatherworn, with bulging arms thicker than Tyrell’s head, she looked like the type of person who could deal some serious damage with a plank.
“Oh, we’re alright, thank you, Nora,” Julian smiled.
Lia turned to the captain, giant eyes demanding explanation.
Julian offered Tavia a hand, and when she was standing on wobbly legs, gestured to the strange woman. “My darling, Tavia,” he said. “I’d like you to meet Nora Finn.”