Something moved away from the porthole. A tiny wedge of light illuminated the room. I saw one of the galley rowers had picked up his chains and wrapped the metal links around Delon’s throat.
Funny thing. Their leg strength might be atrophied by disuse, but a galley rower’s upper body strength is nothing to mock. Few of the “permanent” slaves on board The Misery had any love for Delon. They hated him more than they hated Magoq.
I didn’t stay to see what they’d do with him. I’d recognized the object that had briefly covered up the porthole, and knew we were in serious trouble.
It was a tentacle.
As I ran back on deck, I noticed the tentacles wrapped around The Misery didn’t have suction cups. Not a one. Instead, they had teeth. Sharp, angry, curved points of bone or chitin or some other razor-sharp material that cut into wood like khorechalit axes.
I mention this detail because, like axes, those tentacles did no favors to the ship’s integrity as they wrapped around mast and hull.
Under other circumstances, I’m sure the sailors would’ve attacked those tentacles with sword and harpoon. Instead, they grabbed onto the railings and whimpered with all their might. The ship tilted precipitously. I looked up, thinking we must be passing close to a particularly nasty fang.
We weren’t: this was the Throat.
The ship tilted so far over that half the sky was now a spinning vortex. The gyre was a mile wide and spun into a fathomless abyss, probably opening up into Hell itself.
“Oh Taja,” I whispered.
We were spinning around too fast, and it appeared that at any second we would lose our balance and fall screaming into the deep. The wind tore at me as if it wanted to toss me in personally.
I dragged myself along, holding on to ropes as I pulled myself up to the main deck. Teraeth balanced on the crux of the wheel, one foot against the main post, the other foot steering. He had one hand behind his back, and held the other one up in the air, counting upward. He looked no more bothered by the wind or the whirlpool than a fish is bothered by water.
Teraeth was getting on my nerves.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” I shouted over the noise, “but a kraken’s hanging off the back of the ship!”
He nodded. “She’s catching a ride. She knows the whirlpool would tear her apart. She thinks her only chance is to ride it out with us!”
“She knows? She THINKS?”
“Of course. She is the daughter of a goddess!”
“I was trying to forget that.” I looked around. Captain Juval was pressed against the wall of the stairwell down to the crew quarters. I thought he might have been praying. “Can we make it?”
“Three.” He counted and held up another finger.
“There’s got to be something we can do. We come out of this vortex and that kraken’s going to tear us apart!”
“Sing.”
“WHAT?” I screamed.
“That auctioneer said you were trained as a musician!” Teraeth shouted. “So sing. Sing as though your life depends on it!”
“How’s that going to help?”
“Four!” Teraeth raised another finger.
The ship was spinning faster, and rode higher around the edge. At some point, it would spit us back out. While that should have been reassuring, I knew the rocky shoals of the Desolation waited for us to the north. If we didn’t exit perfectly, we’d be smashed to kindling.
“WHY am I singing?”
“You’ll wake the Old Man.”
“I thought that was a BAD thing?”
“There’s always the chance you’ll amuse him. So sing already!”
“Nobody can hear me! I’m shouting and I can barely hear me!”
“He’ll hear you. SING!” Teraeth held up his entire fist. “FIVE!”
I’d sung in strange situations back at the Shattered Veil, but usually it was a distraction from more prurient goings-on, not from imminent threat of death. And the stone around my neck was hot, scalding hot.
I picked out the first song that came to mind, because it was one of the last I’d performed in public. It felt strange to sing it without the harp Valathea to accompany me.
Let me tell you a tale of
Four brothers strong,
Red, yellow, violet, and indigo, To whom all the land and
Sea once did belong
Red, yellow, violet, and indigo …
“Perfect!” Teraeth shouted. “Keep singing! Six! NOW!”
As if it was following Teraeth’s instructions, the Maw flung The Misery far from the opening. I’ve never traveled so fast, so dizzyingly, sickeningly fast, in my entire life. We blasted out of the Maw with nauseating speed. As soon as we’d cleared the vortex, I heard the screams of sailors as the kraken moved.
One day they saw the veils
Of the same lady fair
Red, yellow, violet, and indigo
And each one did claim
Her hand would be theirs
Red, yellow, violet, and indigo …
We shot toward the rocks of the Desolation, missing being torn apart by the slimmest of margins. Unfortunately, we headed toward a small rocky island that would be large and hard enough to do the job anyway.
The island opened its eyes.
The air trapped in my throat as I saw it. Teraeth whispered in a furious voice, “Keep singing!”
I swallowed my fear and continued the song.
Let go of your claim!
They yelled at their brothers,
Red, yellow, violet, and indigo
And each screamed back,
She will never be another’s!
Red, yellow, violet, and indigo …
“Gods,” I heard Juval say as he pulled himself on deck. “What have you—? That—we’ve got to turn back.”
“There’s no turning back,” Teraeth said. “We run and the Old Man will chase. He likes it when his prey runs.”
As I sang, the island uncurled itself and shook off the accumulated dirt and dust of years asleep. The head was a long and sinuous shape, twisting and joining with a mass of muscle, sinew, and dull mottled scales. The wings, when spread, seemed like they might black out all the sky.
“I’ll take my chances with the kraken!” Juval screamed. “That we can fight. That’s a gods-be-damned DRAGON you’re running us into!”
And so it was.
The dragon was sooty black, the color of thick coal ash. The cracks under its scales pulsed and glowed as if those scaly plates barely contained an inferno.
No forge glowed hotter than its eyes.
No story I’d heard of a dragon—of how big they are, how fierce, how deadly, how terrifying—did justice to the reality. This creature would decimate armies. No lone idiot riding a horse and carrying a spear ever stood a chance.
So they raised up their flags
And they readied for war
Red, yellow, violet, and indigo
The battle was grim and
The fields filled with gore
Red, yellow, violet, and indigo
And when it was done
Every mother was in tears
Red, yellow, violet, and indigo …
“Stand back, Captain, or you won’t live to see if we survive this.” Teraeth’s voice was calm, smooth, and threatening.