They picked their way across the deck to the hatch that led down. As night fell, the belowdecks became pitch black. Selena spoke the sacred word again and the orb of light in her hand grew slightly larger. They found the hold at the ship’s bow, stocked full of barrels and crates. A narrow path cut between the stacks of crates and Selena was relieved to hear a soft whimpering sound coming from somewhere inside. Still, she moved slowly, her light orb aloft and her hand gripping her sword. Deep within the bowels of the hold, she found him.
He was young, with pale blond hair like her own, and she sucked in a breath to see he wore the blue and silver overtunic of an Aluren adherent. He lay curled on his side, bound with rope at the wrists. Grime and sweat smudged his face. Blood darkened his overtunic and pooled on the planks beneath him. Selena rushed to kneel beside him.
“It’s all right,” she said softly. “I’ll help you.”
“Careful now,” Julian said from behind her, his pistol trained on the man. “Could be a trap.”
The man turned his face to hers and a wan smile broke out over his lips. “You…A Paladin? The God has heard me. After so long…”
He broke off, his lips peeling back over his teeth in a silent cry. Selena wished they’d had thought to bring a lantern. She brought the orb of light closer, mindful not to burn the man with it, and peered at the wound that spilled his blood.
“Pistol shot,” she said. “Old.” Some of the blood that pooled around the man was clotted and dark, while fresh red leaked from a small round hole in his side. “How long have you been here?’
He tried to speak and she shushed him. “Never mind. Let me heal you.” She held her hand with the light orb up, aligning it with the moon in the sky that she felt but could not see, poured seawater from her ampulla in her other palm and laid it on his wound. “Illuria.”
An orange glow joined the white light of her orb, and then faded away. The man sighed and smiled at her with blood-stained teeth. “Thank you.”
“I can’t heal him completely until I get the ball out,” she told Julian, “but we can get him to the Black Storm.”
Julian didn’t look altogether thrilled with the notion, but knelt on the other side of the man. He exchanged his pistol for a dagger, and cut the man’s ropes. Selena saw the adherent’s wrists were rubbed raw.
“What’s your name?” Selena asked as Julian lifted the man to his feet.
“Niven. Niven Mattias,” he said and winced as Julian slung his arm over his shoulder and hoisted him up. “I’m a Healer.”
“Are you?” Julian asked. “Didn’t notice the hole in your own gut?”
Selena shot him a reproachful glance. “Weaving light can be done with only the sacred word, but healing can’t be done without finding the moon in the sky to channel the power and using seawater,” she said. “His hands were bound, if you hadn’t noticed.”
“He’s right.” Niven smiled wanly. “I feel I am not as strong in the god’s magic as you are, Paladin…?”
“Selena Koren,” she said.
Niven’s eyes flared. “I know you…”
“Come,” Selena said. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“Be careful,” Niven said. “I heard a terrible battle not long ago. Terrible screams…” He shuddered. “Be careful,” he said again. His eyes rolled up in his head and he went limp.
“Brilliant,” Julian muttered, hoisting the man’s dead weight.
Selena held her light orb aloft and led them out of the hold.
Just as they emerged, a signal from Whistle on the Storm, tore the night air. With a grunt of relief, Julian set Niven down and took up his spyglass.
“Another ship,” he said. “Fully rigged but ponderous.”
“Coming this way?”
“Away. Heading south by southwest. If she keeps it up, she’ll head into the Heart Waters…into merkind waters.” He jerked his chin at Niven. “I think we know where his crew went.”
“Pirates?”
“Seems probable.”
“But why would the pirates take the crew and leave all that cargo?”
Julian shrugged. “Pirates need crews. Might be the men were pressed to join.” He smiled ruefully. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Selena thought that sounded plausible. But it doesn’t explain the eerie feeling we all share, or the ship’s unnatural stillness, or the scales, or the fingernail…
Ilior called from below; the skiff scraped against the side of the Seven Swords.
“You first,” Julian said, and then his face went ashen. He gripped the rail until his knuckles were as pale as his face. “Ah, gods…Do you feel it? A…pulling? I feel like my guts are trying to curl up.”
Selena gripped the rail. Her stomach fluttered, bringing bile to her mouth. “I feel seasick…”
“Seasick,” Julian snorted. “Is this your first voyage? Mine neither. Get in the skiff…if you please.”
Selena glanced down and saw that Ilior stood, scanning the waters, his hand on his sword. She made to climb down when her stomach turned again. The ship seemed to dip down, bow first, but she was unsure if dizziness made her sway, or if the ship was actually moving. And then the ship bucked and erased all doubt.
She and Julian were both forced to grab the rail as the Seven Swords’s nose canted down with a sudden violence. A hissing sound filled the air, followed by chirps and whistles, like those of a dolphin. Selena looked to the dipping bow where something jostled and scratched and thumped against the hull. The odor of decayed flesh permeated the air with a pungent, fishy stench. Arms—more than a dozen, gray and green and bruised—appeared. Skinny arms. Emaciated. They reached for the gunwales and held on with webbed or clawed hands. They screeched with the effort to haul themselves over.
“Bloody bones and spit,” Julian whispered from beside her. “Merkind.”
Selena stared, frozen in shock and fear, and besieged by another roiling in her gut. To see a merkind was a rare thing at all. To see more than one was a phenomenon. Occasionally, sailors claimed sightings, especially if their vessel was in danger, as the merkind were sometimes generous to those they deemed worthy of aid. To those that sailed too deep into the Heart Waters, the merkind were not so kind, but deadly. But benevolent or wrathful, the merkind’s beauty was undeniable, yet those that clambered over the Seven Swords were corrupted and rotting, like corpses brought to life.
The first merman had a tail that was segmented like shrimp, but instead of a sea green color, the skin was blackened in places and sloughing off. The mermaid beside him appeared to be decaying; her long hair had begun to come out in patches and the rubbery skin of her dolphin-like tail was crisscrossed with pale scars. They pulled themselves up the rail with their arms and flopped over the side. Their faces were hideous, with gaping maws and wide, staring eyes that were dead and alit with madness at the same time. They clawed their way over the deck with webbed fingers that dug into the planking, until they bled. The merkind showed no pain, just a frenzied desire for their prey, and more were coming.
“Get in the boat!” Julian screamed and fired his flintlock at the oncoming hoard.
Selena peered down to where Ilior waited with the skiff and gave a cry. The waters churned. Three merkind clambered over the side, their mouths agape and slavering, reaching for the Vai’Ensai.