“I can’t see. I can’t see!” My‑re cried out in panic.
“You have blood in your eyes,” came Sheila Greywand's calming voice. “Give me that waterskin.”
My‑re felt cold water pour over her face, which felt good. A rough cloth wiped it away. Her body ached, her ears rang, and her mouth felt dry. She then sensed Sheila get up and said, “Don’t leave.”
“We are still under threat,” Sheila replied, pressing a water container and the wet cloth in her hands. “Stay and recover.”
When she attempted to rise, My‑re’s head instantly pounded, like a dwarf beating out an imperfection in a stubborn piece of metal. She sat back down, touched her sore head, and felt her veins pulsing. Her damp hair felt wet, matted, and smelled of iron. Blood.
“It’s moving the rudder again!” called out Ssskah's nearby voice.
“Hold the wheel steady!” bellowed the distant voice of Captain Phetmolge.
Using the water and cloth, My‑re washed her eyes and licked the water from her lips. She started to see blurry shapes, and the morning sun stung her eyes. She sneezed twice from the brightness. After several moments, forms began to focus. She sat in the aft section of the Nightie.
“Draw the creature from the depths!” Sheila called out. She went to the side of the railing. Her elite guard of Primus warriors followed her lead and began banging on the ship's side with their weapons. Several called out colorful slurs to the water below.
The additional noise caused My‑re to close her eyes tight. Within her pounding head, a Shewish giant had arrived, pushed the dwarf aside, and used a maul to beat on her brain. She then heard and felt the boat’s hull scraping against something.
“We’re hitting a sandbar!” Captain Phetmolge called out from the bow of the Nightie. “Two degrees port!”
More scraping. It felt like the Nightie slowed.
“Two degrees port!”
“By the nine hells, I’m trying! The cursed thing still has a hold of the rudder!” Ssskah yelled back.
Despite the pain and the threat of her legs giving way, My‑re summoned all her strength and moved toward the navigation wheel. Her stomach churned with nausea, but she breathed in deeply a few times to avoid succumbing to it. Gripping two wooden spokes, she strained alongside Ssskah, determined to turn the wheel by two degrees.
“Good job! Maintain course! The channel to the Suicide Gate is getting narrower!” Captain Phetmolge shouted from the bow.
My‑re glanced out across the lake. In the distance, she saw a thick, curved, rectangular wooden beam sticking up through the water. Likely a part of a craft that attempted the Suicide Gate years earlier. She then noticed the constant resistance from the wheel went slack. She and Ssskah's eyes met with realization.
“It released the rudder!” Ssskah's voice rang out, filled with a mix of relief and urgency. “It’s moving!”
The elite Primus guard quickly backed away from the railing and formed defensive circles. Sheila and Tim the Enchanter each watched one side of the craft. The Lord Protector rowers below maintained rhythm.
My‑re watched and used the beam in the distance as a marker of how fast they traveled.
“Whatever happens, don’t leave this wheel,” Ssskah said, looking straight into My‑re’s eyes. “This thing isn’t dumb. It’s planning something.”
Despite the creature’s absence, My‑re remained vigilant and maintained her grip on the spokes. Her eyes scanned their surroundings. She risked removing a hand from the wheel. She rubbed her aching forehead, a reminder of the danger they faced. Glancing at the Nightie’s progress, she noticed the absence of the landmark. “Did you see a wooden beam out there?”
The resistance in the navigation wheel instantly returned. The force proved greater than before. The creature moved the spokes! One degree. Two degrees. My‑re and Ssskah yelled and pulled in the opposite direction. Three degrees.
“Four degrees port!” Captain Phetmolge cried in panic. “Now!”
“We can’t stop it!” Ssskah yelled back.
The hull scraped against sand. The ship turned to the right.
“Brace yourselves!” Ssskah called out.
The Nightie rammed into a sandbar. The crew flew forward onto the deck. My‑re and Ssskah stumbled but held onto the navigation wheel’s spokes. The prior resistance evaporated.
“By the nine hells. We’re beached.” Ssskah cursed.
“Reverse course?” My‑re asked.
“How? We’ll have to try…” Ssskah’s voice trailed off.
Silence swept through the crew. Something stirred under the hull. My‑re felt vibrations through the wooden deck.
Thud. Thud. Thud. CRACK!
“Breach!”
Panicked shouts streamed from the lower deck.
The Lord Protector rowers scrambled up from below in dread, like ants swarming from an ant hill filling with water.
“It’s down there!” Rao cried out, pointing his scimitar downward toward the stairs. “It’s inside!”
“Describe it,” Sheila Greywand stated.
“I don’t know. I just caught a glimpse, but it was big. Like slime, but not like a blob. Almost transparent but had a blood-red tint and a column-like shape. Like nothing I’ve ever seen,” Rao rapidly spat. “However, its mouth. Its mouth is something I’ll revisit in my nightmares. Circular, void of anything human, with serrated teeth all around. Its purpose clear.”
Sheila and her guard cautiously approached the stairs going below deck. Her wand pointed out to its fullest.
Tim the Enchanter followed Sheila and said, “I’m warning you. If you miss, I doubt the hull will withstand the blast.”
Pausing momentarily, Sheila backed away from the entrance and lowered her wand. “Agreed. Form a phalanx.”
The Lord Protectors from Primus and the Talahya arena scrambled across the deck. Their feet pounded on the wood. They formed a tight group of swords, spears, and shields.
My‑re stayed near Ssskah and Captain Phetmolge, who joined them at the navigation wheel. Silence encompassed the upper deck of the Nightie. However, the same couldn’t be said of below. The creature entered the hull of the ship. They could hear it sloshing around back and forth. The occasional snapping of wood echoed below.
“What’s going on down there?” Ssskah questioned.
“It’s tearing up my ship, is what the cursed creature is doing,” Captain Phetmolge answered with gritted teeth.
“It’s doing something,” My‑re said. She then looked to the grouping of Lord Protectors, Tim the Enchanter and Sheila Greywand. They were all bunched up in a tight phalanx formation. Another piece of wood snapped from below. The floor of the main deck shifted slightly. “It knows where you are!”
Realization sprung to Sheila’s face. “Protectors! Clear out now!”
Sheila’s voice cut as the morning air wailed, wood squealed, splintered, and snapped. The floor gave way. The lamentation of the Lord Protectors gave voice to their desperation. They fell into the hull below. Sheila Greywand among them. The sea churned. The Nightie groaned and started listing to its side. My‑re grabbed the wheel to steady herself. Multiple screams emanated from below deck.
“Sheila is lost!” came a panicked cry.
“What do we do?” came another.
“Run away!” Tim the Enchanter shouted. He and the few remaining Lord Protectors above deck retreated in a mad panic to the aft section of the Nightie.
Battle cries and the ringing of weapon strikes emanated from below. Within a minute, these quickly turned to screams of terror and agony. A flash of light blinded those above from a lightning bolt from the Grey Wand. Darkness returned, followed by silence.
Several heartbeats passed with no further movement.
Stairs from below deck creaked, and the remaining Lord Protectors on the above deck gripped their weapons and took a defensive stance.
Rao and a dozen or more wounded warriors emerged from below. He supported Sheila Greywand. She limped across the remains of the upper deck. The Grey Wand gripped in her hand.
“We forced it back through the hole. It retreated to the depths, and the uninjured are guarding the opening, but we’re taking on water,” Rao said. “I don’t know if we even hurt it.”
“Abandon ship?” Ssskah asked. Her tone quaked with apprehension.
“I’m staying with the Nightie,” Captain Phetmolge said, opening a nearby crate bolted to the deck. Inside were two thick wooden rods and a spear with its head grooved on both sides. He locked each piece into place with a resounding ‘click.’ Once assembled, the upper third of the gigantic long spear was made of thick metal to parry blows.
“We need to get Sheila and everyone out of here,” Ssskah said.
“The Rirorni never back down from a fight,” Rao stated, gripping his scimitar tighter.
My‑re watched the wounded warriors begin to sit around the navigation wheel, knowing each would fight to the last. The ship appeared doomed. The creature had the advantage, and no one would know what happened on the Lake of Mists if they lost. Sheila was the best person on the Isle of the Eye that could defeat the beast. She looked to the water and the far shore, easily within swimming distance. Maybe shallow enough for them to sprint the last part of the way. However, with Sheila’s hurt leg, My‑re doubted her ability to swim it. Her drowning would serve no purpose. There had to be another way. Think My‑re, think! She then noticed Sheila looking at her.
“I never liked the indignity of getting saturated with water,” Sheila said weakly. “I will stay.”
Tim the Enchanter looked nervous. He pointed his staff toward the gaping hole in the main deck of the Nightie.
My‑re recalled her encounter with Tim the Enchanter on the shore before rowing Sheila to the ship instead of using his magic. She had an idea. Sheila might not like it, but she didn’t care. “Tim, teleport Sheila to shore. Get her out of here.”
“Right,” Tim beamed with a new purpose. He reached for Lady Greywand.
Sheila protested loudly, “No! The wand will not teleport!”
Tim and Sheila disappeared in a puff of smoke.
“Why in the nine hells did you command Tim to do that?” Rao lambasted. “We needed her.”
“I went with my gut.”
As the smoke cleared, the Grey Wand remained hovering, then dropped. My‑re reached to retrieve it. The wand moved slightly and then rolled across the slanted deck.
Watching it move, My‑re cursed in Rathiri. She chased after the wand. It sped up. She wasn’t going to reach it. The wand went over the side. She saw it hit the water, sink, and disappear into the depths. For a moment, she contemplated letting it go. However, guilt overwhelmed her as she had technically caused the situation. She didn’t wish to have to explain how she lost one of the most powerful artifacts in all of Alastari. Cursing, she breathed in deeply and dove over the side of the Nightie. She pushed herself through the water and saw the blurred form of the sinking wand. She stretched for it but noticed something deeper: the distorted form of a gigantic mouth with serrated teeth rising from below.
It was coming.