Voga released the ship from the pier and unfurled its sails. Litam was below deck, checking each room, each gun port and each passageway for signs of leaks.
The two beasts had done their best to patch the obvious holes in the hull, but no job was perfect, and the tar they had used was substandard. Nonetheless, they persevered and the ship got on its way to the high seas.
Overhead and forward of the galleon, the griffin soared in the sky, his razor-sharp eyes alert. It had taken much convincing to get him to come with them, but the ydrovis spoke to him with the sounds of gulls and somehow managed it. Litam suspected it may have involved more fish.
The three ydrovis stayed with the ship as it moved away from the shore, though they rarely broke the surface of the water.
Satisfied that the ship had no major leaks, Litam went above deck and tapped Voga on the shoulder.
How do you know which direction to take the ship in?
the mouse asked. The otter looked down at him momentarily, then back to the horizon.
We head for north, read the compass an' follow the stars. The World's a disk an' the northern edge an't wide. Read a map someday, y' might learn somethin'.
Litam decided he would, when he had the chance, but he felt that the otter was slighting him. What about the currents? And how will we be able to see it if we've never been there?
he asked smartly—he didn't really know what currents were, but he knew they could move ships.
Voga shrugged dismissively. The ydrovis said none of tha'll be trouble. I din' normally trust them, but goin' with y' is mad enough, so why not?
Litam was disappointed that he hadn't outdone the otter, but for the moment he was content to go back below deck and bring up something he could make a meal out of.
He should have expected it. Voga had filled what looked like half the hold with pretario beans. He ignored them and picked out some salted kalay meat and a bottle of lostberry wine, then took them to the galley.
Long months passed on board the Elategav. There was plenty of food and fresh water, and stories of piracy on the high seas from the eyes of Captain Voga Kena, Sea's Scorn of the South.
One night, after a deceptively potent bottle of aqeh vitalis loosened the otter's tongue, Litam learned just how long the captain had been an outlaw. How much of the story was pure truth, he didn't venture to guess.
I was born a scoundrel,
Voga told him, clutching the bottle firmly like a crutch. Rather tha' mewl like a good newborn kit, I scratch'd the midwife's paw an' drew blood. I was stealin' by five an' it wasn't long after tha' I was sailin' on a ship under the black banner of piracy!
The mouse had been afraid of Voga at first, not knowing if he could trust an admitted cutthroat. But the ydrovis had led him there, and they had come to him when he appealed to the Higher Beasts for aid. Kveilaz had said they would not help him any more than he would interfere. Perhaps it was sheer luck.
Din' underestimate Mistress Luck,
Voga told him. She's fickle but she's always there an' if y're in good graces with her then she'll treat y' right.
Then again, din' think every good thin' tha' happens is lucky too; sometimes it's very unlucky.
Litam couldn't picture something both good and unlucky—they seemed to him to be two elements of a single whole.
If y' want an example, just look at me: I thought I'd found the hoard of the century, good news indeed! Bad luck though, because while haulin' it back t'm'ship the Tsesials sail'd right up next to us.
Y' may think tha' good fortune sent the ydrovis to you. I may think the same of this chance to chan'e m'fate.
He bit into a piece of hardtack, chewing slowly. Crumbs fell from his mouth and scattered across the galley table. These thin's seem good t'us, but we din' yet know if they're lucky.
It was the last time Voga Kena spoke to Litam about his past or about his ideology. After that night, he looked upon any questions on the topic as being unwanted intrusions, and Litam learned quickly not to ask. Instead, he worried about Lanyur.
Midway through the fourth month of the voyage, the Elategav was caught in a storm of terrible power and ferocity. It was then that Voga Kena learned his fate.
Clouds formed high above the ship, grey wisps gathering and blocking out the sun. Voga immediately knew what this meant, and he ordered Litam to get below deck as he prepared the ship for the evolving storm.
Fiyas the griffin, unable to hide in such a fashion, chose to land on the deck and huddle down there. As the rain began to pelt the wood, Voga took refuge near Litam.
Shouldn't we be up there, doing something?
the frightened mouse asked.
Voga shook his head, the hulk around him beginning to sway in the wind. If there was a crew, we'd do that. It's just y' an' me, though. Not enough paws t' make a difference if somethin' happens, so it's safer t'stay here.
Then the full force of the storm hit, relentless and uncaring in its assault upon the galleon. Litam held a wood beam tightly, trying not to throw up. Every day before this one had been calm; now it was chaos.
Outside the ship, the ydrovis were doing their best to protect the ship from the elements, but they could do little about the wind and rain.
The entirety of the vessel creaked and bowed against the harsh attack, protesting against the rain and wind. Lightning crackled and shot down, striking the mast. Sparks flew, singeing the deck, and the mast split in two, its still-attached pieces falling over the port side. The Elategav began to list in that direction, and within the hold, Voga stood up.
I'm go'n' above t'right us. Stay down here unless y' want t'drown.
He left the hold, quickly getting above deck. He worked at the mast's rigging, his clever paws loosing knots and slicing through rope as quickly as they could.
The wind was incredible, pushing the rain into his face so hard that each drop felt like a bee sting. Fiyas was able to shield himself with his thickly-feathered wings, but the otter had no such defence.
As a net came away from the deck, Voga chanced a look out.
Rocks.
As far as he could see in the cloudy air, sharp rocks stabbed up from the sea. The storm had pulled them toward a death trap.
Damn.
Voga hurried, casting off the rest of the nets and ropes as quickly as he could. With another crack, the mast pulled away from the ship completely and fell into the water, bobbing there shortly before the rolling waves pushed it away.
The storm slackened, dying as suddenly as it had begun. The ship continued to drift toward the rocks. Voga looked closer.
They weren't rocks.
They had only been silhouetted in the blur of the storm, but the air was clearing up and Voga could see them much more clearly. They were ship hulls, poking above the surface of the water. It must have been shallow, but there were too many ships out there for mere chance. Surely the captains would have seen the other wrecks in time! This was a death trap, but not the kind he had thought of.
One of the nearest bows held atop it a solitary figure, staring back at Voga. He was not a beast, or not quite one; it was bony, with furless grey skin loose around his limbs and face, dangling like empty pouches. His eyes were pale and soulless, staring intently at the otter.
Voga looked away slowly. Litam,
he called below deck, there are sea demons. Grab a sword and come up here quietly…
Other demons, similarly grotesque, were peeking over other bows, sterns, and keels. Some jumped into the water, swimming toward the Elategav.
Fiyas saw them and swooped up off the deck, then down toward one. He plucked it off its perch with his great claws, fully intending to eat it. She wailed, then bit and tore at the griffin's feet. He screeched in pain and anger, tossing her upward in one foot and catching her in his mouth as it fell back down.
The demon crunched in his powerful toothed beak, but Fiyas found her foul and spat her out immediately. The body, not yet dead, landed in the water and was swarmed by other demons. She wailed again, then she was silenced. Fiyas remained in the air and didn't reach for another.
The demons, on the other hand, were grabbing the Elategav in hordes. They pulled themselves weakly up the side of the ship, thin fingers finding hold between planks of wood.
The ydrovis fought them for Litam's sake, boiling water here and making whirlpools there, but there were too many, far too many.
A single head came up over the side of the ship and Voga quickly cut it from its body. The demon fell back, but another was there to replace it, and then another, and another. The ship was beginning to tilt again, from the weight of the attackers, and there were too many for Voga to fend off.
Litam opened the hatch, a rusty but serviceable sword in his paw. He saw the demons and froze, watching them overpower and consume Voga, who said no more than a whimper. They didn't quite eat him, but it made no difference in the end. The mouse took in the sight and nearly soiled himself right there.
He looked at the demons, from face to garish face. They looked at him. One licked thin, dry lips. The mouse shrank back into the hold, slowly pulling the grate down.
A demon grabbed at it and the mouse yanked the handle quickly. It crushed the demon's claws and the creature pulled away, bleeding and screeching loudly. Other demons pulled him into the crowd and he disappeared in a flurry of motion. Then they moved toward Litam.
What could he do? Where could he run? Fiyas hovered in the sky over the ship, cawing in distress; he could not land anywhere. If Litam could just get past the demons and to that griffin…
He thought of the gunports on the side of the ship, all empty and closed, but accessible. He jumped off the ladder to the floor. The demons were scrabbling, digging into the solid wood of the deck, trying to get to the morsel that was the mouse.
As they cut through the wood and sunlight shone into the hold through the cracks, Litam ran. The ship was large enough that its innards were a maze, but small enough that he could make it if he tried. If he ran and ran, he could make it. He told himself he could.
There were three gunports on each side of the ship, and no working cannons. Litam entered a gunroom and slashed the rusting, useless weapon's restraint rope. It immediately slid, going until it crashed through the wall, sending splinters everywhere. The demons then knew exactly where he was, and they must have already broken through the deck.
He pushed at the cover of the gunport, trying to get it open, but it wouldn't budge—the hinge had rusted shut. Litam bit his lip, worried; they were no doubt on their way to him already.
He dashed out, to the next room. Releasing the cannon again, cringing as it tore through the wood, he pushed at the shutter. It cried as he opened it, but he managed.
Fiyas,
he shouted out into the damp air, please come!
He heard the chattering of claws on wood as demons raced toward him. They careened into the room, pausing momentarily to savour victory, then they launched at him.
He was pushed through the opening and then he was falling toward the water. He felt them leeching him, pulling something from him, something intangible but integral, drinking it and sapping his strength.
Fiyas!
he called out, but he was muffled by the flesh of a demon. He beat at them with his sword and his feet but he was in the water and they swarmed him like ants and nothing he could do would get them away… then they were gone as he was lifted into open air by columns of water below him and the demons were pushed away, their ichor spattering from wounds cut by Fiyas' powerful beak and claws.
The mouse didn't remember grabbing onto the griffin's ankle, but he had done so at some point. He pulled himself up weakly, onto the wilde's back, and laid his head down against the griffin's fur, panting heavily.
The demons below screeched and shouted, robbed of their feast. One in particular tore at another with his claws: Hairy thing get the Lanyur now!
he hissed, It your fault!
The other demon bit at the first's neck, and more joined in until the water roiled with brawling. Even the ydrovis joined in, attacking demons left and right again.
Litam called down to the demons, an effort to get his words out: Where is Lanyur?
Of course they didn't answer, but one of the blessed ydrovis broke from the fray and began to swim away. Through faded eyes, Litam looked in the direction she was swimming. He saw a dark speck against the grey sky and deep blue water, balanced on the horizon.
The ydrovi sank beneath the surface of the water again, and to Fiyas Litam said: Go that way.
Then the theft of energy overtook him and he passed out.
The mouse awoke some time later, his strength already returning to him. The griffin was obediently flying toward the horizon—in fact, he had flown past and was banking to land—and Litam looked closely at their destination, his vision getting sharper again with every passing moment.
The speck was a black stone column, and it truly was on the horizon: a cylinder jutting above the water, half inside and half outside the ocean. At its border, the ocean's surface curved down sharply and stopped, and there the sky began.
Over the edge was visual nonsense, a different kind of nothing from the grey fog of no memory. The column continued downward, but it was so tall as to lose any meaning in terms of reach or measure; it was simply very tall and no other description was suitable.
This indescribable tower was one of the four Pillars of the World, supporting it above all else. A mere detail of history, a footnote in the story of Creation, it was an awesome sight for the mouse to see. His mount paid it little attention.
The top of the column, an island of sorts, was wide enough for Fiyas to land, and at its centre a beast lay. She was a thin red-brown mouse, arms folded across her stomach, head resting atop a small white pillow.
Litam approached her solemnly, reaching for her paw. It was warm, but limp—she seemed to be asleep, but he could not find a way to wake her. He sighed and thought of Briole: the squirrel would have known how to wake her up; his love for her would guide him.
But Briole was not here: he remained in the Prior World, with no way to reach them. Only the Higher Beasts could cross realms alive, and none had ever done so for another beast in all of recorded history.
Litam's attention returned to Lanyur, inanimate as a statue. He pushed his arms under her body to pick her up, cradling her in his arms and murmuring quiet apologies.
Then he looked up and shouted to the heavens: You see this, Kveilaz? I win. I found her, and not even your sea demons kept me!
There was no audible response, for which Litam was grateful, but he felt his blood chill and his fur stand on end. The little brown field mouse quickly climbed onto Fiyas' back, holding Lanyur close against him. He tugged gently at the wilde's fur with his free paw and urged the animal upward.
A gust of friendly wind brushed by, lifting the griffin into the air. The ground and sea below faded into grey nothingness as they reached a place they had never been before, a place not revealed by the ydrovis, and then the sky above was gone and the griffin cawed with newfound freedom.
Where they were headed, Litam didn't know or care. He had found Lanyur, saved her from the worst of all possible destinies, and nothing else in the whole wide World was of any importance to him. He felt great relief without the burden of prophecy upon him.
It occurred to him in passing that the part he played stopping Letimpra and his other acts as prophesized seemed petty and small: nearly all of the work was Selassei's, yet he was proclaimed a hero. He did not understand why, but again none of that mattered to him and he did not care.
The mouse took strong hold of Fiyas' downy fur. He opened his eyes wide, leant down, and whispered into the wilde's ear: It doesn't matter where we go, now. Let's fly.
They flew.
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