Chapter 15 #2
She only knew they arrived at their destination because the swaying of the ship ceased, and she heard a mighty clanking as the crew released the anchor.
Days of captivity had left her rank, the jug of daily water meant only for drinking, but she’d spared a bit for washing. At least they took her bucket of waste out twice daily. Apparently, Captain Koonis didn’t want to encourage disease.
As Avera heard the clomping of footsteps, she readied herself, standing and smoothing out her grimy garments, holding herself stiff and expressionless.
The door to the storage room opened and the captain strode in with a pair of burly sailors. “We’ve arrived. Ready to find those rocks?”
“As if I have a choice,” she muttered.
“You’re right. There is no choice, so no tricks.” Koonis wagged his finger.
What did he think she, a petite and unarmed woman, could do against him and his crew?
Stepping out of the cage felt strange. Exiting into bright daylight blinded.
Avera blinked and shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun.
It took a moment to adjust and then she looked around.
The ship reminded her in many respects of Griffon’s: big deck, coils of rope, sailors.
But the faces were unfamiliar, the sails the wrong color, and the captain a jerk.
At least much more so than Griffon.
The water lapping against the hull had the dark blue hue of deep water.
A glance past the prow gave her the first sight of the mist. It hung above the water, a thick wall of white that went up high enough she couldn’t see anything of the continent.
For all she knew, nothing existed in that foggy expanse, and yet she had no choice but to enter it.
“The skiff is over there.” The captain pointed to the railing on her left.
“I’ll need a weapon.”
“Whatever for?”
“To defend myself.”
“I’ve got six of my best fighters waiting in the boat. You’ll be fine.”
“Is six plus you enough?” she asked even as she recalled Griffon stating he wanted it to be just the two of them to attract less attention.
“I’m not going.”
“Why not?” she asked with a frown.
“A captain’s duty is to his ship.”
“Sounds more like a coward’s excuse to me,” she muttered as she headed for the rail.
A glance over showed a small craft sitting in the water with the promised burly sailors—five of whom looked terrified. Only one didn’t have the wide eyes and pallor of a man frightened, rather he scowled.
Avera thanked the fact she wore trousers as she had to climb down a swaying rope ladder to the skiff. No one helped her, not to descend or even embark. She landed on her two feet with a little hop and almost fell over as the small boat swayed side to side.
Her stomach clenched and the scowling sailor barked, “Puke over the side.”
She pursed her lips instead and sat on the one bench not occupied. At least she didn’t have to row. Four of the men took up oars while the other pair, one at the front and one in back, appeared to be watching for danger.
As they headed for the mist, she heard the captain call out, “Remember, I’m your only hope of escaping Verlora.”
So he assumed. She had to wonder if any ships might have survived. Most likely not. And even if they had, how would she sail one?
“Row faster,” whispered the man at the rear of the boat.
“What’s wrong, Kenny?” queried the mustachioed fellow at the front.
“Something in the water.”
“Yeah, they’re called fish.”
“Something big,” Kenny murmured.
“I thought nothing lived in these parts,” Mustachio stated.
Avera kept her gaze trained on the blue, barely moving surface and saw the shadow as it passed under them.
“He’s not lying. Whatever is swimming below us is huge,” she exclaimed.
The rowers doubled down, stroking, their paddles lifting and sluicing and pulling. A nudge on the keel had their skiff rocking and one of the rowers blubbered, “It’s madness to come here. Everyone knows this place is cursed.”
“Cursed because the Verlorians eschewed their god,” exclaimed the guy across from him. “Don’t forget, Ron, we are true believers. We serve our god, the emperor, every day. He watches over us.”
“Do you really think so?” was Kenny’s small reply. Some brave, big fighter he was. Afraid of—
It happened so fast, no one screamed. Or blinked, for that matter.
One second Kenny sat at the rear of the skiff. The next? He’d been dragged into the water by a black tentacle.
“Row!” Mustachio screamed.
“Shouldn’t we turn around?” whimpered Ron.
“We have a mission. Now row, or I’ll feed you to the sea myself!”
They rowed while Avera kept watch over their wake. She saw the beast surface enough to show its sleek back as it tunneled after them. Not a worm like she’d encountered in the lake in that mountainous cave, but obviously deadly.
And fast.
She croaked, “It’s coming.”
“ROW!” Mustachio gave them the unnecessary command.
To her surprise, even more speed had them hitting the fringe of the mist, the moist tickle of it warmer than expected. It reminded her of steam from a hot bath. A few more strokes of the oars and the fog fully enveloped the skiff, cutting off the sunlight, making it impossible to see.
Had the beast followed?
Given nothing capsized or yanked anyone off the boat, she could only assume it had remained beyond the mist, probably because of the heat rising from the water.
Avera leaned over and trailed her fingers in the water.
“You idiot. Are you trying to die?” barked Mustachio.
“The beast won’t follow. The water is much too hot, I’d wager.” She’d had baths cooler than this because the servants usually couldn’t be bothered to cater to the misbegotten daughter.
“Air smells bad,” muttered Ron.
Avera sniffed and processed the faint stench of rotted eggs. “It’s sulfur. Most likely from seeping volcanic gasses.” She’d learned quite a bit about volcanoes while on Saarpira.
“Is it poisoning us?” Funny how the men looked to her for answers.
“If we breathe too much for too long, we’ll end up with irritated throats and noses, possibly a headache, some nausea.”
“It won’t kill us?” Ron again.
“Nope, but the effects can be unpleasant. Hopefully it’s not as strong on shore.”
“Speaking of which, where is it?” Mustachio muttered. “Can’t see a bloody thing.”
They couldn’t and yet Avera found herself pointing. “Keep rowing in that direction.”
“What makes you think you know?” Mustachio blustered.
She gave him the look, that of a queen annoyed someone questioned her, before coldly replying, “I was sent here for a reason. And that reason is in that direction.” She couldn’t explain her certainty.
The rowers obeyed and Avera kept her arm up, making a noise when they veered even slightly.
Mustachio glowered from the prow but didn’t say anything further.
Then again, why would he when they suddenly found the mist thinning enough to see that they approached a beach.
Too fast, she should add. The skiff ran aground before they could react, causing her and a few others to fall from their benches at the jolt.
She righted herself quickly and had a look.
To her surprise, there was little fog over the land.
There were patches here and there, but for the most part, the sun seeped through the thin clouds overhead.
Enough light came through the haze to allow foliage to flourish.
Everywhere she looked, green leaves, even some brightly colored flowers bloomed, but no signs of habitation until Ron exclaimed, “Holy shit, look at that bush. It ate a boat.”
Not so much ate as enveloped. The small vessel, most likely for fishing, was fully covered.
Only its shape made it distinguishable. As Avera glanced around again, this time with a more discerning eye, she realized the unchecked plants had overtaken the manmade items, covering them in dense vegetation that made them hard to recognize.
This would make her task more challenging, because most likely the rocks she sought had been covered too.
Not ideal, but it could have been worse.
She’d feared to find Verlora encased in hardened lava.
“Where to now, your majesty?” asked Mustachio with a sneer.
She opened her mouth to reply, Don’t know, only to find herself walking, drawn towards the jungle.
Ready or not, the quest had now truly begun.