Heights of the Depths (24 page)

{Gorkon looks out at the receding ship, seeming so lonely upon the waters. “I could just return here.”}

{“Yes, you could. You would be committed to nothing.”}

{“Still…I have never done anything like this. Gone any true distance from home. Been alone…”}

{“You will not be alone. You understand that, do you not? You are not alone. For good or ill, you never will be again. And you know why.”}

{And Gorkon does. He understands precisely to what Ruark is referring. He does not like to think about it, because the connection that he had now has with…the Other…is daunting, intimidating. He has learned to live with it, even though he is certain that the Other will bring about his destruction one day.}

{“Very well. That is what I will do. Just for a little while. Just to satisfy myself that the endeavor is pointless. Then I will return to you.”}

{“Of course you will,” says Ruark.}

{And so Gorkon turns away from Ruark and swims away without even looking back.}

{He catches up quickly with the ship, but keeps a safe distance. He does so because he does not want to draw attention to himself. He is as daunted by the Travelers as anyone else. He has had no direct interaction with the Travelers, but he knows the stories. He knows what they are capable of doing. That is why no one dares to stand up to them. Had Ruark’s demented queen had her way, the Markene would have gone up against the Travelers and unquestionably been destroyed en masse as a result. }

{From his vantage point he continues to listen to the discussions aboard the ship, to eavesdrop on their daily interaction. Every day that he pursues them, he tells himself that this is the day that he is going to have sated his curiosity about the girl. This is the day that he is going to turn back. Yet he does not do so. Because every day he finds the human girl more and more intriguing. He is not romantically interested her in the least. They are, in every way imaginable, from two different worlds. He simply finds her personality interesting, and maybe even kindred to his own, because in the way she comports herself, she challenges many old assumptions. He has never had a kindred spirit before. Ruark was something of a mentor to him, but also had his own agenda. Gorkon is not a fool. He knows that to some degree Ruark was using him to his own ends from the very beginning. He initially bristled at the idea, but he has since come to accept the reality that everyone uses everyone else. Sometimes for good, sometimes for ill, but in the end, no one engages anyone else unless there is something of value in it for they themselves, and Ruark is no different.}

{But of what value can this human girl be to him? None that he can think of. Certainly none that is readily apparent. He is certain that his future lies back in Venets, even if it is only to die at the hands of his own people in order to sate their need for vengeance. By any reasonable measure, there is no reason at all for him to have any interest in this Mort.}

{Yet he continues to follow her. Several times he actually endeavors to turn and swim off in the other direction, but each time he finds himself continuing his pursuit of her.}

{As night begins to approach, he becomes concerned over the prospect of losing the ship because fatigue is overtaking him. He dives, looking for something that can be of benefit. It takes repeated excursions, but he finally finds a length of cable in a vessel already sunken to the floor of the Vastly Waters. Taking his newly discovered treasure, he overtakes the vessel once more and, as the sun sets, uses it to secure himself to the hull. Thus is he able to sleep while the ship pulls him along.}

{And while he sleeps…he dreams of a better world. One in which the Twelve Races do not live in a perpetual state of strife. One in which his own people celebrate him as a hero instead of loathe him as the one who upended their life of bliss. One in which he has a place. Yes. A better world.}

{He just wonders if it can ever be this one.}

iv.

“I saw you. Ruark and
 I, we saw the ship taking you away. I had never seen a human before, much less one who was in the company of Travelers. And I was just going to watch you sail away. But I—”

“But you what?”

For a long moment he said nothing. Jepp didn’t press him; he spoke in a manner that was slow and methodical, and she had a feeling that it matched the way he thought as well. There was no reason to rush him. It wasn’t as if she was going anywhere.

“I changed my mind,” he said finally.

Jepp felt slightly let down by that. “That’s it?”

“Is more required?”

“I suppose not. Except…why did you change your mind?”

“You interested me.”

“Really?” She cocked her head. “How so?”

“The way you speak to the Travelers. The way you stand up to them. No one else does that that I know of. No one else would dare. Everyone fears the Travelers.”

“People fear what they don’t understand. They don’t understand the Travelers, that’s all.”

“And you do?”

“No,” she admitted. Then she brightened. “But I know that there’s something there worth understanding. And that’s enough of a start, I suppose.”

“Why were they taking you to the Spires?”

The question surprised her and she made no effort to hide it. Then again, Jepp wasn’t particularly skilled at hiding any response she ever had to anything. “They were taking me to the Spires?”

“Yes.”

She did not bother to ask how he knew. It wasn’t her way. He seemed fairly positive about it and that was sufficient for her. “I do not know. The Spires is the residence of the Overseer, yes?”

“That is correct.”

“Then I suppose that the Overseer has some interest in me. I have no idea what possible interest one such as he could have in one such as me. And I suppose now I will never find out.”

“I suppose not.” He continued to study her for a time longer. “So…what do you wish to do now? Where would you like to go?”

“It is odd,” she said thoughtfully. “Ever since the Travelers took me, all I wished to do was return to Karsen.”

“Who is Karsen?”

She told him all about Karsen then. All about the circumstances that had brought them together and resulted in her being with a group of Bottom Feeders for a time and entering into an intense relationship with Karsen Foux of the Laocoon, until being kidnapped by the Travelers. “And all during the time I was with the Travelers, I kept insisting that they should return me to him.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “That is the problem. Because the Travelers are—well—who they are, I had assumed they had the ability to bring me straight back to Karsen with little effort. They could find him, if anyone could. Now, though, they are gone, and my chance of being reunited with Karsen may well have gone with them.”

“I could return you to the land you left behind if you wish. That way you at least have an opportunity to try and track him down.”

“That is a possibility. Unfortunately, far more likely is that I will be captured by someone—a Mandraque, something like that—and forced back into a life of slavery. I am a Mort, after all,” she said, allowing traces of bitterness to creep into her voice. “My kind are nothing but slaves. I have a one in a million chance of locating Karsen once more. And even if I do…then what? His mother will have nothing to do with me, so we will have to be on our own. I mean, honestly…what sort of existence is he then supposed to lead? An aimless life of wandering around with nothing but me for company?”

“You should not think so little of yourself.”

“I don’t,” she said firmly. “I used to, but I don’t. That’s not the point, though.”

“Then what is?”

“The point is that I think Karsen can have a better life if I’m not a part of it. Not a…a burden to him. He would be able to have congress with his family and with his own kind. As long as I am with him, our feelings for each other are going to be...” She sighed. “Inconvenient.”

“Then what do you wish?”

“I wish…”

She stopped. For reasons she still could not quite fathom, those two words seemed extremely loaded to her, as if they were not to be uttered lightly, nor without some acknowledgment of their power and potential.

“I wish things could be different.”

“What things?”

“That my people could be free, to begin with. Presuming,” she added ruefully, “there are any of my people left. That is something else I would like to see different. More of my people. Many more. I…” Her mind wandered. “I had a dream of that. I dreamt of a city with tall buildings, buildings so tall they seemed to touch clouds. And there were so many of my people there. Tens of hundreds, thousands. They were just…they were everywhere. And a Mandraque…a female. I’m not sure how she fit into it all. And I could not for the life of me tell if I was seeing something that was long in the past, or in the future, or would never be anything other than in my imaginings.”

“Buildings that touched the clouds? You may well be speaking of the Spires.”

“Really?”

Gorkon nodded. “Ruark described them as such. You may well be dreaming of your destination.”

“What does that mean, do you think?”

“I do not know.”

She stared off toward the distant horizon. “It would be…interesting…to find out, I suppose. To see the Spires for myself. Perhaps to speak to the Overseer.”

“You cannot speak to the Overseer. He would destroy you with a glance.”

“I have heard much the same about the Travelers. Yet I did so, and I am still here to tell of it.”

“Because of me.”

“Yes,” and she smiled. “Because of you. I was an orphan of the storm and you saved me, and I do not believe I can ever thank you adequately for it. But thank you I do. Now if only you could get me to the Spires…”

“I have never been there myself,” said Gorkon. “But the vessel upon which you sailed was traveling a fairly straightforward path. The storm did not disorient me. I can continue to follow the trajectory of the ship and reach its destination, presuming the ship was not intending to change its course.”

“You’re saying you can take me to the Spires?” Excitement was starting to rise within her.

“Yes. Yes, I believe I can.”

She looked behind her, in what she fancied was the direction from which she had come. “I hope…I pray…that the path of my life will lead me back to Karsen,” she said slowly. “But if there is to be any chance of living in a world in which Karsen and I could be together and be happy—genuinely happy—then I have to think my path lies forward rather than back. You have already done me a tremendous service, Gorkon, for no real reason I can discern other than that you…well…”

“Were not otherwise occupied?”

“I wasn’t going to put it that way, but yes. That’s what I was thinking. Anyway…if you can indeed bring me to the Spires, then you would have even more of that relatively worthless thing called my gratitude.”

“Believe it or not,” said Gorkon, “gratitude would be a most welcome commodity for me at this point in my life.”

“Then you will have all of mine there is to give and more besides.” With that said, Jepp got to her feet and then strode toward Gorkon.

Gorkon gave her a very puzzled look. “Where are you going?”

“I am…I thought I was going to the Spires. That you were going to take me.”

“Yes. And?”

“Well…I figured that I would come back into the water and that you would swim there with me.”

“The water is quite cold. I do not think such prolonged exposure would be advisable for you.”

“You’re not going to swim me there?”

“No. I am not. I will accompany you to see you safely there…but the bulk of the travel will be by another means.”

That declaration intrigued her. She could not imagine to what he might be referring. “Another means?”

“Yes. The Other will bring you there. The Old One. The oldest one, in fact.”

“Oh,” said Jepp uncertainly. “Uhm…all right.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “Is he a friend of yours, this…other?”

“A friend? Not exactly. We are…bonded, in a way.”

“I am likewise bonded with Karsen,” she said, feeling a bit better, as if this was something she could more readily comprehend. “Is he going to come here to the island?”

“What island?”

“This one.”

“Ah,” said Gorkon, suddenly understanding. “All right. I have been foolish, Jepp. My apologies. I have forgotten that that which is obvious to me is far less so to you. The Other is not going to be coming to this island because there is no island. The Other is already here.”

Jepp was starting to get an uneasy feeling, concerned that Gorkon might actually have lost his mind somewhere along the way. “What do you mean, already here?” She glanced around, trying to humor him. “Is he invisible?”

That was when the island shook beneath her feet.

She let out a startled scream and fell over, nearly rolling off before she found purchase upon it. “What’s happening!? It’s a quake!”

“It’s not a quake.” Gorkon sounded amused. “It’s the Other.”

“The Other is moving the island?”

“Not exactly.”

The island began to move, not just forward, but also—as Jepp began to be aware—up and down. Very slowly and very rhythmically, and she realized that it was just like a living creature breathing.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “He…it…is the island?”

“That’s right.”

“What kind of creature could…what is it?”

Gorkon paddled next to her and then softly, almost reverently, he said, “He was the first.”

“The first what?”

“The first. Before there were the Magisters…before there was anything…there was the Other. All life in the Elserealms rose up, and everything changed except him. He was there, he was always, he was eternal…”

“You make him sound like a god.”

“He is, in his way. And the Magisters were sore afraid. He was the one being over whom they had no influence. He does what he will. And because of that, he was one of the very first who was sent here. The Magisters put him at the forefront of the First Wave. They got to him while he was slumbering, and he awoke here, surrounded by a handful of the other races and various primitive beasts that once roamed this world before the First Wave hunted them into extinction. His rage was mighty, and his image was so terrifying that the sight of him burned itself into the deepest recesses of your race’s memory. Your kind did not yet exist, but your ancestors’ ancestor beheld his rage and thus do you all fear the very concept of him.”