I stab it with my glass, but the shards break like they’re striking stone. I activate a Void Whip and infuse the void with my mana, straining against the tentacle. It doesn’t budge, however. I’m trapped.

“Kanin, wait!” I hear Zyneth through the water. “Don’t attack.”

“What?” I cry. Is he serious? I mean, not that my attacks are doing anything anyway, but what is he thinking?

“It’s not a beast,” Zyneth calls.

Now that he mentions it, I am still alive and uncrushed. The limb’s grip is tight, but I haven’t gotten any warning from Echo about damaged glass, apart from the pieces I broke myself. Strange.

I switch the vision on in my signing glass as I switch it off in my head, sending the glass to swirl out around the tentacle and get a better look.

Zyneth is below me, equally wrapped in one of the limbs, both of us being dragged down to the seafloor. A dark shape lies there, illuminated by two giant yellow eyes gleaming up at us through the water. A strange metallic groaning sound reverberates through the dark, and as Zyneth and I are reeled in, light glints off the creature’s limbs, revealing rivet-studded steel. Holy shit. The whole thing’s a giant, squid-shaped machine.

The metal limbs retract into the hull of the ship, lifting us up toward the eyes as the length shortens. But they’re not eyes—inside I can see the innards of the ship, the walls painted with spell circles and mana circuits. As Zyneth and I are pressed up against the window, I instinctively lean back.

“No, wait—!”

Instead of getting smashed against the glass, however, we pass through without any opposition, a warm buzzing sensation washing over me as the resistance from the water vanishes, and I’m in open air once more. The tentacle goes slack, and I abruptly fall several feet to the floor, striking my knee against metal ground with a sharp crack.

[3 points of Fall Damage sustained.]

“Ow.”

Zyneth, of course, falls into a crouch, his gaze darting around our surroundings. As the metal limbs withdraw through the magical windows, I swap my vision back over to my head, tucking my extra glass and void back inside my coat.

Mana Check, I say to Echo, even as I take in my surroundings. We’re in an ovular room, about the size and shape of a semi-truck. Apart from the two glowing windows and surfaces cluttered with active spells, there’s only what appear to be half a dozen gray cubes, all five feet tall, which Echo identifies as “Lesser Arcana Vessels.”

[Mana: 58/75]

I test my knee, which at least only appears fractured rather than snapped off. I bet I have my Feather Foot boots to thank for that. Still, I won’t be able to put any weight on it without risking a worse break. I could potentially reinforce it with some void, but I’m not thrilled with how cozy the predator has been getting lately. Anywhere I can reduce my reliance on the void, I should. Cost to re-Sculpt leg?

[4 mana]

Well, it’s not the worst. I fix my leg (which costs 6 mana, actually, thanks to the predator graciously taking a cut) as Zyneth pokes around the room.

“Hey.” I pick at the sleeve of my jacket as I stand up. “I’m not wet.”

“Me neither,” Zyneth says, running his hand through his hair. “Must be the spell in those windows—probably designed to repel seawater.”

That would make sense, given the lack of ocean gushing through the openings. Extra nice for me so I don’t have to deal with streaks of water running down my glass and obscuring my vision.

“So what is this room anyway?” I ask, turning in a circle.

“I think it’s a cargo hold,” he says. Zyneth runs a hand along one of the weird gray blocks. “Gillow will store the null arcana in these, I suspect.”

I Check the stones more closely: They can each hold up to 1000 mana of null arcana. A fraction of what the arcana crystal contains in significantly more volume. These mana vessels might be cheap knock offs of the crystal, but thinking of how coveted just the null-infused salt is, the amount of pure null arcana Gillow can store in these blocks will undoubtedly make them rich.

A screech of metal has Zyneth and I turning toward the far end of the room, where a door is thrown open and Gillow strolls out, all grins. They spread their arms cheerfully. “Welcome aboard the Prismatic.”

“Welcome is certainly a word for the way we were just brought aboard,” Zyneth says.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“Yeah, what the fuck,” I say, pushing myself to my feet. “You could have warned us!”

Gillow’s smile doesn’t falter. “Now that wouldn’t be half as funny,” they say. “Besides, it was harmless.”

“Mostly,” I grumble.

“We could have done serious damage to the ship,” Zyneth says.

Gillow shakes their head, beckoning for us to follow. “If you two are enough to bring the Prismatic down, we won’t even make it halfway to Emrox. Now come. Ready for the tour?”

Zyneth grimaces, but waits for me to catch up with a helpless shrug. “Stay close,” he signs to me while Gillow’s back is turned. “Watch them.”

“No shit,” I sign back.

Despite their theatrical welcome to the ship, however, the rest of the tour passes without incident. The cargo hold ends up being about a quarter of the ship’s entire interior, making up the top portion of the back half of the ship. Beneath it is where the ship’s metal tentacles are stowed when they’re reeled in, so the rest of the tour is spent in the front half of the ship. There’s a small kitchen—or galley as Gillow calls it—a cramped bedroom with four cots, two bulbous escape pods on either side of the ship, and the main deck. The deck is clearly where we’ll be spending most of our time. The entire front end of the room is a window, so invisibly clear I suspect it’s some sort of spell or magic window like the “eyes” Zyneth and I had entered through in the cargo hold. There’s a control panel near the front and a couple chairs bolted onto the floor, both near the panel and along the walls. Besides that, the arcana crystal is clamped onto a pedestal in the middle of the room, which itself is the center of a spell circle carved into the floor and spiraling off into the rest of the ship. The predator stares at the magic source hungrily, so I turn my sight away.

Altogether, I’m not impressed.

“This ship’s not even as big as my childhood house,” I say.

“Oh really?” Gillow asks. “That’s completely fascinating. And I suppose your house was designed to withstand hurricanes, crushing pressures, and boiling deep-sea vents? Do you think its bigger size helped it fight off krakens and leviathans? Was your home rated against null arcana currents, which distort the essence of time and space itself?”

“Um,” I say. “What was that about krakens?”

Gillow blinks at me. “That’s what you got out of that?”

“I suspect this vessel harbors many arcane features which are not immediately apparent,” Zyneth says.

“Eloquently put,” Gillow says. “Which is to say, yes, with this arcana crystal powering us, we’ve weapons systems that can take down a hydra.”

“Oh,” I say. “Well, that all sounds good.”

Gillow gives me a look of extreme disappointment. “I hope your null arcana abilities are as advertised, as your current line of shrewd observations is not inspiring confidence.”

The predator’s feelings and impulses echo down our bond, as they always do: At this moment, it’s hungrily focused on every source of magic on this ship—including Gillow and Zyneth’s souls—desperate to get a taste of anything it can get its claws on. The void I’m keeping hidden beneath my coat feels restless; the predator is always reaching for it, trying to subtly pull influence away from me, while I’m always trying to keep the magic settled and quiet. These conflicting intents have left the void agitated—an existential itch I need to scratch.

“If you’re worried about my experience with null arcana,” I tell Gillow, “don’t.”

They give me an appraising look, and I can’t tell if they’re amused, impressed, or just curious—maybe some combination of the three. “Alright, Glass Mage,” Gillow says. “I look forward to seeing your abilities in action next week.”

“A week?” I ask. The predator found a way to free more of itself in half that time. “Can’t we go faster?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gillow snaps, turning away from me as they sit down at the control console. “Are you the Emrox expert now? Do you have a way to get us to the Ruins in a fraction of the time of the most experienced sea explorer there is?” Then they turn back with a raised eyebrow, all sarcasm dropped. “Actually, do you have a way? With null arcana that might be possible.”

“Er, no,” I say. But now I wonder. Can the void give me teleportation powers? It’s a type of null arcana, which encompasses void, space, and summoning magic. I’d assume space is the specialty responsible for teleportation, although it seems any type of null magic can be used to operate telepads. So far, though, the void has never shown any indication of having powers like that when the predator or I have used it.

Gillow’s frown returns. “No? In that case, I’m going to have to ask you to kindly shut up and let me do my thing.”

“Seven days to Emrox, then?” Zyneth asks as I decide that taking Gillow’s suggestion to stick a foot in my mouth is probably for the best.

“Seven days to the null currents,” Gillow says. “That’s where Block-Head over here will extract the promised null arcana as payment for this trip. Emrox is another two days beyond that.”

“Sounds like we’ll have a lot of time on our hands before things get eventful,” I say.

Gillow looks back with a pointed grin. “Oh. I wouldn’t say that.”

Outside the window, a shadow passes by the Prismatic. I can’t tell what the shape is, but it fills the whole view, blotting out the valley full of glowing sea-life for a long, long moment. No one says a word as the creature moves silently past. Then, abruptly, the shadow is gone, and the valley of coral and fish appears once more.

“Strap in, boys,” Gillow says, buckling themself to their chair. “If you’re expecting clear waters between here and Emrox, think again. There’s a reason its magic hasn’t already been mined to oblivion. And the more people keep trying, the more the beasties down here get a taste for their blood.”

As their hands fly over the controls, pulling levers and spinning wheels, Zyneth hurries over to a seat against the wall and begins to buckle himself in. Taking the hint, I pick the seat next to him and do the same.

“Just because you’re paying your way doesn’t mean you’ll have an easy ride,” Gillow continues. The Prismatic lurches, and a rumbling groan echoes through the hull of the ship. My soul drops as I scramble to tighten my buckle, and the view through the window shifts, pointing down. “How much experience have you two got slaying tempo squids? Never mind, you’ll get practice.” They yank a lever forward, and I am pushed back in my seat as the vessel drops toward the ocean floor. Gillow whoops with glee as I clutch the edge of my seat, focusing everything I have on not letting my glass head slam against the metal wall behind me. Beside me, Zyneth appears surprisingly unfazed. When he notices me turn my head, he merely grimaces. Though he doesn’t speak, the look very clearly says, “I fucking told you this was a bad idea.”

But hey. What else is new?