Perilous Shores: Traveler's Luck, #1

Chapter One

Uncharted islet in the Antylia Archipelago

Nowen had succumbed to the temptation that he so rarely felt. The urge to participate, to form ties. He just wanted to be left alone to pursue his work, but without support from his superiors, his work had quickly dead-ended. He trailed behind and watched the other mages cautiously. Instructor Darden, a fit man of indeterminate old age, led the group at a brisk pace. He looked more like a scribe than a mage, though Nowen supposed, the two overlapped in the case of a wizard specialized in the calculations of teleport rings. Behind the instructor, walking side-by-side as always, were Gladlow and Meese. The stoic Gladlow would look even less mage-like himself but for his two concessions to tradition. A broad-sleeved, purple, hooded robe, reaching just below the knees of his trousers, and a straight walnut staff, the top half bound in elaborately tooled leather. Both affectations looked quite wizardly. His lack of traditional beard made him look young, and the curly black hair did nothing to compensate.

Their destination had been nearly invisible until the boat was in danger of running aground. A floating plank walkway made for an unsteady dock but allowed a dry landing on the shallow sandbar. Loose sand soon gave way to limestone and a narrow path between waist-high rocks. The way opened into a circular depression without the group slowing down. Nowen saw they crossed an etched magic circle covering the floor of the depression, its sigils partially obscured by blown sand and accumulating guano.

Nowen asked, Why not jump us to this circle? Is it broken?

Meese said, We're keeping a hand on the purse strings. He removed his garish, wide-brimmed hat and mopped his forehead. Though having a build often referred to as stout, he was practically weedy by his people's measure. Meese was of the Dwarrow presumably, by his four-foot-four, however there was no trace in manner or speech. His beard was trimmed in the Human style of bushy and medium length, while his hair was clipped short and styled carefully. His robes and hat were crimson with orange accessories wherever appropriate. Nowen understood that Meese only wore the hat in order to remove it with a flourish and slick his hair down with one hand. He did this when buying time to think, or when passing any woman.

The sandstone path went on for another dozen yards and led to a second clearing, this one more exposed. The circle on the ground was better cared for.

Nowen looked back at the trail and asked, Did we really just walk through a magic barrier? I didn't feel anything.

Instructor Darden began his spell and nervousness rose before Nowen's first teleport.

Meese said, "We only call it a barrier because the Crown uses the code name Rampart. It has no influence inside or outside its border. The only thing it seems to bar is dimensional travel through it."

Gladlow said, That's not accurate. You can jump through if you can see your target. It's more that spells can't see through it.

Nowen asked, How did the Institute manage to secure the one piece of land on the map where we can walk across it?

Meese said, This piece of land wasn't here when the map was drawn.

Gladlow said, Hush. It's time.

The three stepped into the circle and the world changed around them.

The CHS Indomitable

Wellstone studied the roster scrawled on a hanging slate. It was good policy to know who was where, but this time she was looking for something specific. Divers rose in the ranks by a number of methods, not least of which was luck. Regardless of why, the bigger your haul, the better your territory. The giant urchins clustered together occasionally, no one knew why, but it made for quick work. A streak of silver urchins might catapult a diver up the rankings, or a graveyard of shells might be left by the ravenous binging of some oversized species of triggerfish or crustacean. Luck, however, didn't last. Eventually, skill or determination would have to do the rowing, so to speak. Even with all three traits on ample display, no one rose as fast as a diver by the name of Pel. On this voyage, Wellstone had watched a slew of seemingly random events cause havoc with the roster. This wasn't terribly unusual, but everything that occurred, raft reassignment, illness, injury, or lost equipment, seemed to ease the way for one woman.

Bring her in, Wellstone said without taking her eyes off the leaderboard.

Aye, chief, Rillan said, waving down his younger counterpart Carlin before she could comment.

Wellstone caught this from the corner of her eye and turned to her subordinates. What is it?

Rillan raised his hands as if to protect himself from involvement.

It's just, Carlin said, she's number six now. Raft One.

Wellstone waited and Rillan declined to comment.

Nobody cared that we questioned her before, but now... well, none of them are accusing her of anything. Every squid will blame us if she breaks her streak. Carlin looked between the two of them and sighed. I'll bring her to the office after galley.

Wellstone thought the girl looked tired, not physically, she was as tireless as your average twenty-year-old Human. She performed her duties in an exemplary manner all the while pursuing her passion for marine research. She normally handled the double career with a sweet-as-honey attitude, even when twisting elbows and smashing stills, but once per month, she was plagued by nightmares. She was on her third sleepless night. 

Wellstone asked her first deputy, Did you do the other thing?

Rillan shrugged. We raided Jonn's not-so-secret operation. We ignored the still and tipple to make clear we were looking for other things.

Anything to report?

Nothing much. What were you expecting?

From Jonn, nothing much, Wellstone said, But if any of the others are moving Crown property off the ship, our only chance to find it will be when they're looking for a better hiding place. She walked away leaving her deputies to follow.

Carlin asked, Who's next?

I think... Daine.

Rillan swore under his breath.

Wellstone smiled cruelly. You shouldn't be encouraging the squids to break rules.

There's no rule against it. Not really. And he's a free-diver so it doesn't interfere with the harvest.

Wellstone said, He's supposed to be catching us food.

Carlin asked, Rule against what?

I'm paying a bonus if he can find me a Jova shell. Rillan shrugged. We're going to make an offering of it for a good birth.

Carlin said, Jova isn't a goddess of fertility.

No, Rillan said, but she's a protector of women. Lissa thinks it can't hurt.

You know, it's only called a Jova snail because it has a pretty shell, it doesn't actually have anything to do with the goddess.

It's special enough to carry her name, so...

Carlin added, The locals' word for it means 'nasty biting snail.'

Rillan said, Well, it's not the strangest thing she's demanded, so just let me row with the current, aye?

Wellstone let her two deputies prattle on as they wended their way to the lower decks. She rather liked Humans, and these two in particular, but she would never understand the need for so much talk. Humans didn't just talk, they argued. They didn't trade, they haggled. If they didn't have the facts, they could at least share their opinions. At length. She knew why the Human tongue had become the common language throughout most of the known world, they overwhelmed the others with sheer quantity.

There weren't a great number of her people at sea, but she wasn't interested in starting a family for another few decades anyway. She fit in just fine with the mostly Human population of the Crown fleet. From time to time, upon seeing her four-feet-eleven, someone would comment that they thought her kind were smaller. The Dwarrow were known by other peoples for many traits that were either never true, or reflected the antiquated practices of isolationist clans that hardly represented the entirety of the mountain people. Helena Wellstone was, admittedly, born deep underground in the fastness of a cavern stronghold, but hadn't so much as entered a cave or dug a hole since her twenty-eighth birthday. She crafted little more than a fine stew and forged absolutely nothing at all. Her only incontrovertible racial quality was a certain sturdiness that she would not trade for anything after working a decade aboard the Crown fleet. 

Daine, how fair you this fine afternoon? Wellstone said while knocking outside the opening. There were no doors on this deck, and she took advantage to step inside. Daine's cabin was double the size of the others, but his duties were doubled as well, serving as he did as unofficial divemaster. Aboard one of the rafts he'd be referred to by the half-mocking title of commodore, but free-divers dropped over the side without the benefit of enchanted charms or a platform to rest on. They held their breath, using weights to speed their way down, and ropes to ease their way up. Their efforts improved the health and morale of everyone aboard ship, but more importantly, saved the Crown a small fortune in supplies. In addition, they hauled and stowed the rafts and did a large share of urchin processing.

Helena, said Daine with a big smile. Closing in on the next bonus. We're on our way out if you'd like to walk and talk. He grabbed up a bag of weights and started to slip past her, but the two deputies filed into the room. Rillan gave him a friendly nod and began looking through crates and net bags. Carlin flanked him and tried to look stern. Daine didn't seem worried. Though tall and strong, the young woman was nonetheless a head shorter than him and the bright pink head-wrap holding back her springy locks did little to intimidate. They all observed Rillan as he moved the panel hiding the still and gave the closet a perfunctory search. He did little more than rattle a few flasks of the seaweed liquor the sailors called treenail. Daine watched this with amusement. If you tell me what you're lookin' for, I can surely help you find it.

Rillan said, There doesn't seem to be anything amiss. We'll let you be on your way.

Daine said, We've got our eye on some tasty looking runner fish—

After I take a wee peek in the bag.

Grabbing Carlin's tunic in his free hand, Daine threw the lass into Rillan, causing the two to go down in a tangle of arms and legs. He hauled back the bag of weights and looked at the sword Wellstone had drawn. He absolutely towered over her, but she could imagine him trying to calculate his chances. She stood relaxed and waited for him to decide. He dropped the weights in Carlin's lap, eliciting a feeble protest. Rillan dusted himself off and without taking his eyes off the big sailor, snatched up one of the flasks and downed a healthy portion. Daine gave a half-shrug. That was fair.

A few copper ones, chief, Carlin said, dropping four copper lumps on the floor and continuing to dig through the bag.

Daine said, Those were found on the sea bed. The lads give 'em to turn in.

Wellstone sheathed her sword as she stepped forward. It doesn't matter where they come from, failing to hand in lanterns guarantees the lash.

They get passed around a few times, but they always make their way to the purser's. You know that's how it's always worked...

She narrowed her eyes. Doesn't seem like enough to get you so bothered. Rillan?

Rillan began thoroughly searching the man, but sailors wore little, and squids even less. Rillan shook his head at her.

Daine said, I feared for my bonus. I'll lose half my pay— 

Wellstone said, That's a lovely shirt, Daine. I don't think I've seen you wear it... or any shirt really.

Kasandra presented me with it, Daine said, looking over at Rillan, the bosun's mate?

Rillan nodded in appreciation.

She was making fun, but what kind of fool turns down a gift from a woman like that?

Wellstone gently took his hand and pushed the roll of his sleeve up to his elbow, exposing a leather strap. He didn't resist as she turned his arm over, revealing the breathing charm buckled to his forearm.

Any vestige of camaraderie was gone from her voice. You'll see her again when her master garrotes you to the mast.

Carlin unstrapped the Tesco's Breather and handed it to her chief. Wellstone held it towards the criminal and asked quietly, How did you get this? The only ones not accounted for—

Helena, you have to believe me—

The diver from earlier today, Wellstone said, snapping her fingers at Carlin.

Steppa, from Raft Six. The longboat was called out to search, but they found nothing.

Wellstone said, Rillan, order the longboat out again. Take the squid search team this time. They're looking for a weighted corpse somewhere outside his dive sector. Ask the quartermaster to hold all of Raft Six for questioning.

I think the girl's ready, Rillan said, trying to look earnest.

Wellstone was in no mood for his nonsense, but Carlin spoke up. I want this one. Wellstone eyed her for any trace of reticence. She had to be fearless to free-dive over the side of the Indomitable, without pay no less, but she had never once volunteered to set foot on a smaller boat.

Wellstone said, Go. Carlin hurried out. A longboat crew was always at the ready. They'd be on their way in moments. Wellstone placed the breather in a pocket and took a couple of flasks from the still. Tossing one to Daine, she opened the other and took a long pull.

A last drink for the condemned? He twisted the cork out but didn't drink.

She said, It was likely a murderer who sold you that. If they have him to execute...

I... honestly don't know what I was going to do with it—

Wellstone asked, Who sold it?

Mickel, Daine said. Then he finally drank. One of my divers. He couldn't be the killer, but I don't know where he got it. He'll talk to me though. He pleaded, Will you speak for me?

She almost shouted her words. I'll tell the godsdamned truth. But I'll not ask for your death. Let's find Mickel.

They made their way in silence. Daine had lied and another dive wasn't scheduled for hours. The free-divers would be in the secure hold cleaning urchins. The aft of the hold was practically a vault. The precious metals would remain below, while the shells and viscera were hauled up to be dumped before the Indomitable moved to new territory. The creatures' gonads thickened the ever changing chowder, and the lantern-shaped mouth structures thickened the Crown's coffers. The three wove through the orlop deck, seemingly past a hundred women and men, performing as many different tasks. Wellstone reached for the ladder and the deck jerked out from under her, accompanied by the deafening roar of shattered timbers and shearing iron. Her first thought was they had run aground, but the ship was at anchor and often took two hours to set sail. Seawater poured sideways from the hatch below and when she gained her feet, she realized the ship was listing to port. The floor she stood on was now the joint between the deck and the port bulkhead. Most everything heavy was secured, but the valley they stood in was rapidly filled with sliding ropes, tools, and sailors. The press of bodies split as mobs tried to scramble to the fore and aft hatches. Whichever choice she made, they would be at the back of the crowd. The water reached a depth that made it impossible for Wellstone to stand. She tried to clamber up the deck but slid back into the valley. Daine was pushing into the crowd, the regular crew and artisans only able to resist his strength with sheer numbers. The waterline passed over the lower deck hatch but the swirling torrent could be felt strongly. She thought the water was rising more slowly, but it would fill the deck in minutes. She turned in time to raise her arm against a glancing blow from a plank of wood.

I'll be having that charm, Helena. Rillan swung again, smashing her arm back into her face and sending her under. She surfaced expecting a killing strike, but Daine had an arm wrapped around Rillan's throat from behind. His other arm held Rillan's knife wielding hand out away from them. The deputy's face was already purple as he clawed at the sailor's arm.

I had the same idea, Daine said. Go. Break into the purser's office and bring as many breathers as you can.

Wellstone stopped treading water and let herself sink. She fished the leather band out of her pocket and strapped it around her throat. She had trained with the breathers but knew she wouldn't be able to force herself to take that first breath until her lungs screamed for air. She swam close enough to the hatch to grab the railing and pulled herself through the lessening current to the underside of the hatch. She was able to pull herself along the rafters to reach the aft before she felt the rising panic. She pushed out every bit of air she could and nearly blacked out before taking a painful, desperate gulp. She thrashed for a moment as her mind tried to convince her body it wasn't drowning. The last bubbles rose from her mouth and she swam down through the open door of the office. She made her way to the security cabinet and jammed her thick sword into the gap near the lock. She heard talk that the cabinet was protected or cursed but had never been able to find out the truth. This operation was so cheap, they probably spread rumors rather than pay a mage to hex it. She gave the blade a savage twist. The cabinet burst outward in a blinding flash of short-lived sparks and boiling water.

She jerked awake in a slowly swirling cloud of burned parchment and leather. She scrabbled around the remains of the cabinet only to find dozens of melted charms, some fused into lumps of three or more. Her tears were swept away underwater but she still sobbed in frustration. A scorched wooden box on the floor of the cabinet had somewhat protected its contents from the fury of the fire-trap she had triggered. If only she had been so lucky. She could feel intense pain rising on her face and hands. She opened the box and grabbed the small tangle of broken straps and loose charms. One of the quartermaster's lads would have spent the return voyage repairing the buckles. It was Wellstone's hope that they would still function if the charm itself was undamaged. She stuffed them in a pocket and swam for the door. It was nearly pitch black, but the disorientation she felt when the ship first listed was gone. With its corridors filled with water, she couldn't tell if the ship was sideways or upside down, but it didn't matter. She knew every inch of her home and made her way quickly to the deck above. She was much too late. She tried not to look at the faces of the crew she swam around and under. Being surrounded by the dead made her long to draw her sword, but she had left it behind. She unbuckled the scabbard and let it sink. As she neared the hatch to the weather deck, the ship seemed to lurch upward with a loud groan. She gave up carefully skimming past her dead shipmates and clawed her way to the hatch using anything in reach. She burst from the hatch and took a second to reorient herself in the blue light. The vessel was resting to port. The ship hadn't risen upward but moved sideways along the sea bottom. She swam up to clear the bulwark and came face to face with the nightmare of every sailor. She froze and continued to drift upward as enormous reptilian eyes followed her. It seemed to decide she wasn't worth killing, or perhaps it could see she wasn't carrying anything now belonging to it. It shoved the ship's keel, moving it another dozen yards along the sea bed and into ever deeper water. As she rose, Wellstone could no longer make out details, but the monster was massive enough to move a ship six times its size. She began swimming but couldn't bear to surface and leave herself completely blind to what was moving beneath her. She was content to move away from the deeps. The sea grew warm, but she felt it might just be the salt on her burns.

Raft One, starboard line.

Pel swam along the sea bed to the giant ink-black urchin and thrust her weighted spear. Just before contact she planted her right foot in the sand and spun to the side avoiding a foot-long spine fired like a crossbow bolt from near the point of impact. She felt the delicate shell crack but waited and checked her surroundings. A mile outside the reefs, shallower waters let the sun shine bright. She was secretly terrified of the depths she was forced to hunt while earning a spot on the more desirable diving platforms. She had recently begun toying with the idea of coming back next year and working her way to the end of the line again but knew it was impossible. She'd soon be suspected of smuggling and blacklisted. Though she should be able to avoid any other penalty, she would certainly be banned from diving again. The three-foot urchin appeared to shrink in size as every spine receded a few inches. She used her spear to turn the creature over and examine the pentagonal mouth. There was a great deal of blackened corrosion, but it seemed healthy. That was the trick with the black ones, you wanted them big enough to have grown a good sized lantern, but the oldest ones, likely from repeated injury or just wear, had more corrosion than silver when harvested. The greens were much hardier. The bigger they were, the larger the copper lantern. The greens's roe was edible too, though she hadn't developed the taste for it. As tempting as it was to process it on the spot, it was against the rules. She didn't want to attract any more sea life than necessary. Adding it to the other three, she wrapped them in a bundle of loose netting, and towed it back to the raft.

Pel wasn't one to envy others, but Hara was possibly the fastest swimmer aboard ship. She was six feet tall and born to the water. Whenever the girl climbed back on the raft, she stretched her arms up and arched her back, and Pel thought the same thing every time: that girl has to be more than Human. When Pel climbed aboard she always got a wink from Jepps, but stopped being annoyed days ago. She wasn't sure the old man realized what he was doing. It was practically a twitch whenever he saw tits. With all the scar tissue, maybe that eyelid was the only body part still responding to the fairer sex. This time, Commodore Jepps was distracted by Hara's outburst.

We have to raise the yellow. The usually unflappable Hara was digging through the first locker anchored to the aft.

Yer messing about. I'll not be able to find a thing now, Jepps said. There was zero chance anything Hara did to the chests would make them less organized. Jepps didn't seem worried, and Becker sat on the edge of the raft with his legs in the water, probably on a half-hour rest. He was a strict rule follower, but Pel was beginning to think he was timing his rests so that they were on the raft together. He wore as little as any of the male divers, with the exception of six steel bands, one on each wrist and ankle, and above each elbow. She thought they might mark him as being from one of the semi-local tribes, but there was no hint of accent to prove it. She could do worse than the rugged youth, for example with any of the other four divers in her crew. If there was trouble, it was best they get it sorted before any of them came back to make things worse.

Hara love, what's happened? Pel asked. It sounded motherly and forced, but the girl didn't seem to hear. She gently turned the girl around. Hara, what's wrong?

They don't believe me. I saw a thing in the water. Like a man, Hara said. She didn't seem frantic, but the girl wasn't meeting her eyes.

Becker said, I told her it was one of the Lizards—

"I've met the people on dives before. I think they're beautiful. This thing looked like a reef eel, but pale."

Pel said, Eels can get enormous—

Can they get arms and legs? Hara visibly tamped down her frustration. "It wasn't an eel, it was an eel man."

Commodore, raise the warning flag, Pel said.

Jepps took over digging through the lockers and dropping random items on the deck.

Becker said, I believe you saw what you saw, but an eel-man is hardly the most frightful thing in these waters. He sounded confident but Pel noticed he had taken his feet out of the water.

Pel asked, Hara, what else did you notice? Tell us everything.

Hara told them she stayed in her assigned territory of the port bow. This put her close to the reefs, but the creature was seen on her opposite side, meaning it swam directly through their dive sectors. She first noticed what she thought was a close grouping of three sharks, nothing to be worried about, but certainly worth keeping an eye on. The reef sharks of the region were not aggressive and there was no danger if the rules regarding fishing were upheld. When the sharks moved near, she gathered her net bag close and prepared to return to the raft. In the event of an attack, the urchins she harvested would make an effective deterrent to most creatures. She only got one clear look at the thing swimming between two sharks. Up until that moment, it had kept itself hidden, and it took a long look at her as well with its unblinking eyes. She didn't remember it holding anything but had a vague impression that it wore something on a sling around its chest.

Soon two more divers arrived only moments apart. After another round of explanations was complete, Rowan and Nesh seemed to be in agreement. Pel wasn't surprised. Rowan was the best of the best and Nesh was the closest thing to an apprentice that the divers had. Nesh did some of Rowan's work, and the other reciprocated by teaching the younger man all of his bad habits.

Rowan was the senior diver on raft one, and though it granted no actual authority, he felt perfectly comfortable giving orders. He and Pel had similar backgrounds, though more than a decade apart. Both were soldiers whose war was over. Each had a tendency to step into leadership gaps, but his experience and confidence had her backing down more often than not. She thought they would be good friends, as he reminded her so much of those she had served with. They were not friends, but it no longer bothered her. She understood he just didn't want to be reminded of the past.

Rowan said, You lot did the right thing, it's best everyone stay alert. We'll need to harvest what we can in case they pull us in. With that, he and Nesh dove in and disappeared. They would swim along their shared border and separate further out.

Becker hadn't moved and Hara was making a pretense of examining her spear. Pel said, He's probably right, we don't want to fall behind and lose our spots. This was especially true for her. A fortune in bribes, and no small effort on her part, had put her on raft one. It would ruin everything if she wasn't still near the top of the ranks when the ship rounded the cape in two days. She glanced at the sheer cliff walls beyond the reef. There was no slipping ashore before then. She looked at the younger divers and added, Still, I wouldn't mind some company. Hara, you want to partner for a little while?

Hara threw her arms around the other woman and squeezed tight.

Becker?

Thank the gods. Let's go.

Pel said, Beck, you're fore, so we'll strip your territory on both sides and keep each other in sight. She turned to Jepps who was leaning on the winch.

Have the others repeated the signal? Pel asked.

Gesturing over his shoulder, Jepps said, "Masha on two and what's-his-name on three are showing the flag. I don't think it's gone on. The Indomitable won't acknowledge for some time yet. The longboat is out, but it's nothin' to do with us."

Pel took his spyglass. She was always surprised at his ability to read the flags this far away. She couldn't find the ship through the glass, so peeked out at the horizon to locate it. Not only was the ship not visible, the horizon wasn't where it was supposed to be. She used the telescope to find the furthest raft... just in time to see it snap out of sight under a rising wave. It didn't float, it was like it was pulled under.

Everyone in the water! Something's happened to the ship, we're losing the rafts! Grab something and move! When she reached for her own dry bag, she managed to snare what she hoped was the medical satchel and snatched up her spear on the run to the edge. She dove in and swam hard for the bottom, letting her breath out in a single rush of air.