The Children of Urdis (Grimwold and Lethos Book 2) (16 page)

Then the hand found her eye. Her shark form reflexively rolled the eyeball back into her head, blinding her left side.

Kafara, no! Turo's voice rushed into her mind with the intensity of a tidal wave.

The stone knife, of course, she thought. The bitch was going to use it.

The blinding pain was so intense Kafara lost all control. Her jaw opened and her shark form convulsed. She felt the ice cold blade slide deep into her eye.

But worse, the power within her fled like water repelled by a drop of oil.

Her transformation dropped. Her mind blanked. She felt herself sink, and her vision closed down into a world of darkness.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lethos cursed the brightness of the twin moons and the clear skies. The large moon, known as Hurgen, hung large and fat amid thousands of winking stars. Lower in the sky the twin "little brother" Silpunr was hazy and yellow. Both reflected on the ocean waters with irritating brilliance. Lethos had once looked upon these moons with wonder, imagining the gods that lived there and if he might see them move across Hurgen's face. Now he just wished they would both crumble into the ocean like the old prophecies claimed. It would save everyone a lot of trouble if the world ended right now.

The rowboat rocked with the waves slapping the hull, and Lethos felt he might fall overboard if he were not careful. He pulled the oars as Valda sat in the stern, buried in a dark cloak she had taken from the fortress. In another place he might seem a love-besotted fool rowing his girl out for a song at midnight. He was likely rowing both of them toward death. Hardly romantic, unless one considered the ancient plays of Xenios as romance. The lovers in those plays always managed to find their way to a bloody death. That was about the size of this adventure, so maybe this was romantic.

"Try to row more quietly as we approach," Valda said. The hood of her cloak hid the brilliance of her golden hair, but she was still a sharp outline of white against the silver and black world of ocean waves. Before leaving Norddalr, she had donned a black shirt and pants and found the same for Lethos. Where he was naturally dark, she seemed to radiate light even when only the moons lit the sea. Lethos thought of how she had overcome Avulash and decided maybe she was actually glowing. Not a helpful trait for stealth. She was tremendously brave to accompany him, though. He could not deny her that much. He was a little embarrassed to have asked, but she had saved him once already.

"Maybe you'd like to try rowing?" he asked, holding out the oars. His face warmed as soon as Valda's head turned aside at his snipe. "Sorry, you're right, of course. Every dip of these oars sounds like a waterfall to my ears as well. I don't know how we'll get to the ark unnoticed."

The ghostly white ark was nearly invisible in deep night. It floated northwest of Norddalr, motionless on the rocking sea. Lethos fervently hoped his power would light up and show him a way to Grimwold. He suspected that if it did light up, it would urge him to row in the opposite direction. It didn't take a fortune-teller to see this was a suicidal undertaking. No lights nor any sign of life moved upon the ark's high deck. It was truly a ghost ship, as strange and silent as the first day Lethos had seen it.

Their rowboat glided into range of the mighty white hull of the storm riders' ship. At this distance it was much more solid, and Lethos could see the wood was not painted but actually white. The oar ports were closed against the night, three banks of them high on the sides. In their limited planning session, Lethos had suggested both of them were small enough to fit through these oar ports. Valda had sensibly guessed the ports would be closed and likely locked against the weather. Besides, sticking one's head into a den of enemies was asking for it to be removed from one's body. They were going to scale the sides.

Lethos's back tingled with the expectation of an arrow sinking into it. He had just learned not to fear arrows when Grimwold was felled by one. The dull ache over his heart continued to annoy him. He was glad rowing concealed his trembling hands from Valda, who was already measuring out the length of rope for their grappling hook. Had she really been a soft princess in a beautifully clinging green dress? Now she had become a Valahurian shield maiden, a pilfered shield and sword leaning against the small bench where she sat. He was both gladdened for her calm professionalism and completely humiliated by it. Hadn't she just lost all her family and friends? Yet here she was coolly executing revenge while he worried about getting skewered with an arrow.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked as the rowboat glided up to the hull. From directly below, the sheer size of the ship bore down on him. "I'm not sure where we will find Grimwold on this massive ship."

Valda leaned forward and handed Lethos the heavy hook. "A Valahurian would take the enemy's head off and nail it to a mast. I don't know what these monsters would do. You're certain he's alive still?"

He thought better of commenting on the monstrosity of nailing heads to masts. "I feel the connection to him. Even now I'm certain he is below decks somewhere."

"So you do know where he is." Though Valda's face was lost in the dark shadow of her hood, he could still hear the frown in her voice. "Don't say you're not sure where he is. That's disheartening."

"I mean I'm not sure how to get to him." He measured out the rope, weighing the hook in his hand.

"Then say that."

He stared at her, his mouth caught between a curse and a smile. At last he nodded and stood, immediately losing his balance in the rocking boat. Valda grabbed him by his shirt. Up close he could see the flash of a smile in the shadows of her hood, and when they were steadied again she patted his chest and released him.

"Now you'll let me scale this first. I've at least had training in this part." Lethos began to spin the hook, estimating the strength needed to throw it high enough to reach the rails. Without his supernatural strength he would not be able to throw the hook high enough.

"You trained scaling ships?"

"Scaling walls." He increased the spin and leaned back, the boat rocking as he did. "I was in training as a spy back in Rao-Kharos. I never finished my lessons, but this much I remember. I was good at it."

The hook sailed from his hands and he felt the satisfying heft of it as it shot up into darkness. Moments later it splashed down into the water, a ring of white foam marking where it landed. Lethos grabbed the rope and drew it back. Valda winced and looked up.

"Maybe you want to slam the hull until the whole ship comes to see what we're about?"

"It might take a few tries," Lethos said, turning his back to Valda. "It's not like I can see what I'm aiming for."

"Make it take one try," she said.

The hook was cold and wet in his hands, and he glared at Valda's cloaked shape. She seemed small against the white of the hull. Again he grumbled back his irritation and threw the hook into the dark. This time it did not fall back on him, and he heard it clunk into wood. He pulled the rope tight, leaning on it so the hook bit deep into the wood. Now he had to tie down their rowboat. His heart sank.

Valda took the rope from him. "I've watched my father's men do this. We can tie it to these oarlocks like this."

Lethos's face burned hot enough that he wondered if he were now also glowing. Valda swiftly knotted the rough, stiff rope into what seemed a strong tie. Lethos did not know much about tying things, as that had been Grimwold's specialty. He had relied on Grimwold for so much, he was beginning to wonder why his friend kept him around at all. Other than that they both died if separated, of course. That was a compelling reason.

"I'll go first," he repeated, more forcefully than he had wanted. Valda inclined her head and stepped aside. Given his luck this night, he expected to slip and fall into the water. Of course, Valda would have to perform an amazing dive into the sea then carry him one-handed to safety. He was no doubt the helpless woman in this romance play.

Yet the rough rope bit into his hands as he climbed, and he was already at the first bank of oar ports. His feet walked up the hull as easily as walking down a pier. He felt light and agile, and not a bit fatigued as he raced past the closed ports toward the top rail. When he placed his hands on the smooth wood, he had not even broken a sweat. He hauled himself over the rails and rolled into the shadows of the gunwales.

The white wood beneath him was stark against his black clothing. He felt like a cockroach when a lamp was suddenly lit in a dark room. The deck creaked beneath him, and he heard muffled voices and noises through the boards. He feared to look around, much like a child would close his eyes and hope no one else saw him. It seemed to be working for now.

Valda fell on top of him, and he realized too late he had not shifted aside, fixed to his landing spot in terror. She cursed as her shoulder rolled into his face and she slid off his back. "What are you doing right under me?"

Swathed in a black cloak and clothing, she was nothing more than a crouched shape made fatter with the shield she had slung across her back. She was on hands and knees and a lock of her hair fell out from the hood, white in the moonlight. She sat on her knees and adjusted her sword. If she could be so calm, then he could as well. He didn't need his power. He had grown too reliant on it this last year, and now it made him jumpy to take any drastic action without its guidance. Tonight was as drastic as he had ever been, except when his separation from Grimwold had driven him to the brink of madness.

The deck was wide and empty, but seemed much like any other deck of any other ship. Lethos did not know much about sea travel. Lots of sails and ropes were involved, along with hard-looking men that drank too much and enjoyed ugly songs and uglier women. Sails were furled and ropes zigzagged all over the place. Two buildings occupied either end of the ship, which had fancy names like stern and prow and other such nonsense. Sailors had to feel special, he supposed. Orange lights glowed around the edges of shuttered windows in these buildings.

"It's like a small town up here," Valda said in a whisper. She waddled over to him in a crouch, leaning her soft body against his back as she spoke. "Where do we go now?"

"I told you, just below deck. I don't know how to get there."

"Well, can you at least tell me where below deck?"

"I just said I can't."

"I mean is he right below us or all the way on the other side of the ship? Gods, you seemed a lot smarter before I got into the rowboat with you."

"I ... Well, all right, nerves getting me wound up." He folded his arms against the chill air and scanned the deck. "He's not far. In the middle, and probably one or two levels below."

Valda studied the ship from beneath her cloak. Lethos expected her to know something about large ships since she was daughter to the High King. Certainly she had traveled in similar ships. She would know which doors led below deck. After a few minutes she turned to him, her face a black shadow.

"Which way is down?" Lethos asked. Her pale white hand emerged from the black of her robes and pointed down. He rolled his eyes in frustration. "So you don't know either. We'll just have to try our luck with whatever seems logical."

He had not realized how badly he did not want to move now that he had to take action. He hoped for a crewman to reveal the entrance, but all signs of life were gone from the deck. The deck at the front of the ship was raised higher than the rest, and the same for the stern. Doors were fixed into the walls at the lower section of the deck, and those were his candidates for entrances to below-decks.

Grabbing Valda's hand, he ran at a crouch toward the closest door. The white deck burned bright in the silver light of the big moon, Hurgen. Valda was close at his back as the two of them piled up into the fractional shadow of the wall. His heart pounded, accentuating the ache he felt where Grimwold's arrowhead had lodged. The wall was cold against his back, even through his heavy linen shirt. Valda, hood still drawn, pressed beside him. Her chest rose and fell with his, and a small smile came to him. So she was not braver than him, just better at hiding it.

"They have to know we are here," she whispered. Her sweet breath was warm on the side of his face as she leaned closer. "They must be waiting to see what we do."

Lethos shook his head. "I don't think this operates like a regular ship. They must all be below. We're about to open this door. Are you ready?"

He did not listen or look for her answer. Instead he wrapped his hand around the cold iron ring and gave a testing push. The door had give. He held his breath, hoped to feel his power flowing into him, and instead just felt like urinating, then shoved the door inside.

The stench of blood rolled out of the yawning darkness. Lethos stepped back, covering his mouth and nose, expecting an attack or something to fly out of the darkness. Yet nothing came. No sound followed. Nothing but the wide blackness of an opened doorway faced them. He looked to Valda, her expression still shadowed beneath her hood. Yet she had shrunk back from the doorway, her hand bright against the hilt of her sword.

"You can go first," she said.

Lethos stared into the darkness and swallowed hard.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Lethos fought the urge to cough when the stale and grotesquely sweet scent of blood rolled over him from the black doorway. Deep in his mind a bestial snort greeted the odor. Lethos was too nervous to fight with the bull within, instead fearing his first steps into the yawning darkness before him. It was as if he were stepping into a prison cell. He gave one glance back at the stark silver-painted world of moonlight. Valda stood behind him with her small hand on his back, either to force him through or encourage him. He decided upon the latter. She now wore her shield on her left arm but her sword remained sheathed. Behind her the masts and rigging of the ship broke up the starry night into jagged patterns.