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King Mudt reappeared on the frontlines of a siege in disarray. The catapults they had spent months painstakingly positioning in a deadly crescent around Infinzel stood quiet, even though Mudt had ordered round-the-clock bombardment. Mudt’s warriors and marksmen milled around the weaponry in confusion, dancing between the shadows of impossible satellites.
Spiked boulders and balls of hot oil hung in the air above the catapults, released but stuck there, slowly drifting back to the ground. At the sight, Mudt laughed maniacally. “The gods weren’t lying!” he roared. “The rules have changed!”
At his laughter and shouting, King Mudt’s army noticed him. One of his outriders, pale-faced and shoulders hunched, scurried forward.
“Some kind of magical defense from the mages of Infinzel,” the outrider reported. “We had a unit try to breach the wall this morning and met resistance there. The skirmishers found their weapons stuck in the air. Strange, but the enemy seemed as surprised as us. And then, there is the mark…”
King Mudt waved this all away. “Your king has been in congress with the gods themselves,” Mudt declared. “Do not presume to inform me, for I already know it all.”
“No, of course, my liege.”
Mudt grabbed the outrider by the chin and twisted his head to the side, in order to better see the blackbird that marked him as a true Orvesian.
“They appeared on all of us,” the outrider babbled. “Although not everyone got the bird…”
King Mudt raised an eyebrow at that. “Bring me Sulk, Carver, and Bello,” he said, listing off three of his captains, the best warriors in his tens of thousands. “And inform your unit to arrest anyone not marked with the blackbird.”
By the end of that first day, King Mudt would know every spy that had infiltrated his vanguard. He would be unable to kill a single one.
But he would try.
--Record of the First Granting and Dawning of the Second Age
Lyus Crodd, Scribe of the Dead Kingdom of Orvesis
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--DRAMATIS PERSONAE—
Red Tide, Enchantress of the 3rd Renown, The Reef, on the loose
Turtle Jaw, Quill of The Reef, leading the way
Cuda Bite, Skulker of the 1st Renown, The Reef, slippery as an eel
Salt Wall, Berserker of the 2nd Renown, The Reef, from the north
Beyond Reach, Trident Master of the 3rd Renown, The Reef, doesn’t like to sing
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22 New Summer, 61 AW
The Central Sea, heading north
278 days until the next Granting
Red Tide assumed the swim out from the Grotto was normal. If it seemed strange that the champions of the Reef would leave the prison under the cover of night with minimal supervision, she quickly set that thought aside.
She was back in the water. That was all she’d wanted. To be freed from the confines of her cell.
Red Tide could make the fin again, hooking the small bones that ran up the insides of her legs, practically moaning as her spine aligned with her lower body. She cut through the waves, a gray streak, darting and diving like she was a child again. At first, the gills on the sides of her ribs burned from disuse, crackling with the salt water. Even that pain was welcome.
There were five of them in all. The four condemned champions of the Reef and Turtle Jaw with his quill. Four newly freed prisoners and their warden. In less than a year's time, all except for the warden would most likely be hunted and killed. Red Tide ignored that looming fate, like she ignored the fact that Turtle Jaw was leading them north, away from the Reef. She assumed he would explain, eventually, why he had abandoned his post and swam them all this way.
But for now, it was enough to simply move, to glide and dive. Red Tide's body felt renewed. Despite a year in captivity, she felt like she could swim faster and further than before.
Red Tide dove deep, caught a fish in her fist, and ate it floating on her back. Blood and scales spilled across her chest and her new Ink. She cleaned the symbols off hurriedly, not wanting to give offense. The ge’ema had been good to her.
Red Tide
The Reef
3rd Renown
Awareness+
Enchantress
Coral Tender
Charm+
Poisonous
Hypnotic Object
They swam north for days. To pass the time, Red Tide crooned her naming song. She sent the music vibrating through the water in clicks and pulses, piercing wails and contralto warbles. That was the way of the oca'em. The sharing of naming songs was traditional when two pods met and essential when new ones were formed out of stragglers. They certainly qualified as a pod now, Red Tide reasoned. They were going to die together.
And so, Red Tide sang of the way she ripped her way out of her mother, the cold wrath of her father, and their exile from the Reef for his failed attempt at rebellion. She sang of her time alone in the waters and how she had been without a pod for many years. She sang of her games with the sailors of the Merchant Bay, her bloody reputation, and her imprisonment. She sang of the promise of fresh Ink and how if she was to die, she intended to take many, many enemies with her.
The others entwined her verses with their own. Cuda Bite swam closest to Red Tide. She could feel a youthful lust in the way he dashed in her wake. He was on the small side, angular and without scars, and he sang of his life as a prolific thief who had only been caught the one time. He made his petty grifts sound almost operatic, but Red Tide heard the irony in his verses and it amused her. She studied his Ink as they traveled and saw that he had chosen [Skulker], which Red Tide had briefly considered for herself. That seemed a practical choice if he planned to survive, although the gods hadn’t felt him worthy of much Ink.
Cuda Bite
The Reef
1st Renown
Shadow Step
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Agility+
Skulker
Hidden Blade
Compared to Cuda Bite, the song of Salt Wall was deep and proud, with no humor at all. She was a monstrous one, broad and muscular, bigger even than Turtle Jaw, and she swam as if the currents offended her. Salt Wall's skin was dark gray bordering on blue, which suggested she belonged to the ice water pods of the north. Her disdain for her southern brethren came through in her song, though she made sure to trill respect for the sailor blood that Red Tide had spilled.
Salt Wall
The Reef
2nd Renown
Recovery+
Strength+
Berserker
Bloodlust
Numb
Even Turtle Jaw joined in the song. The warden was a man of duty who had attended his post at the Grotto for almost twenty years. He hummed the mournful notes of a life gone by, the sucking whirlpool of faith unrewarded. Red Tide wondered at that. There was mourning in Turtle Jaw’s song, but also an edge of hope. Better things to come, his song suggested.
The fifth swimmer joined the song only in the most perfunctory way, as if he were merely passing them by in the waters instead of migrating alongside them. He called himself Beyond Reach and filled his verses with empty pleasantries, but Red Tide could feel the contempt behind them. He was a handsome face with a lavish mane of braids and beads, but his muscles were wrong and he was the slowest swimmer among them. At first, Red Tide wondered if he had spent too many years a prisoner in the Grotto and forgotten how to move. But no, upon further examination, his were the ways of an oca'em who preferred to stand instead of swim. He was surely a resident of the Horizdock, the section of the Reef that grew above the water's surface, where the queen’s pets tried to trade their sad wares to passing ships. Red Tide learned from his Ink that Beyond Reach favored the trident, a traditional weapon of their people that had fallen out of use. Surely, his life as a Horizdock brat training with artifacts would’ve made for a compelling song, but Beyond Reach elected to keep his origins to himself.
Beyond Reach
The Reef
3rd Renown
Alert
Balance+
Eel Sting
Trident Master
Weapon Return
Vault
Often, Red Tide sensed Beyond Reach appraising her, though not in the same lascivious way as Cuda Bite. Beyond Reach was surprised, she realized. He had not expected any of them to match his Ink.
Red Tide was pretty sure Beyond Reach had been distracted, sizing her up, when the anchoreel attacked.
The beast shot upward from the sea floor like a dart, its flat head connecting a glancing blow with Beyond Reach’s midsection. The first strike wasn't meant to kill; the anchoreel only wanted its prey knocked off course and disoriented. As Beyond Reach spun through the water, the anchoreel wrapped its sleek, obsidian body around his hips and thighs. Beyond Reach had a chance to trill a panicked warning to the swimmers ahead of him and then he was sinking.
Anchoreel were lonely hunters. They didn't have much company, so they liked to drag their prey back down to the sea floor and take their time with the crushing and cracking open of bones.
Red Tide and Salt Wall dove after Beyond Reach, his name suddenly frighteningly literal. Cuda Bite gave chase, too, albeit with a timid stroke that suggested he was more concerned with watching for more anchoreels than he was with saving their companion.
Flashes of crackling blue emanated from the darkening waters below. At first, Red Tide worried a pack of liteels had joined the fray, but then she remembered Beyond Reach’s Ink. He'd activated his [Eel Sting] to try stunning the anchoreel. Foolish. Anchoreels preyed on liteels and over generations had grown immune to their shocking touch. Beyond Reach’s jolts had little effect on the anchoreel’s tough skin, and its constricting grip didn't loosen.
Salt Wall reached the anchoreel first, but the beast saw her coming. It swung its triangular head out from under Beyond Reach’s armpit and snapped at Salt Wall. She met the fanged mouth with the backs of her hands pressed against each other, forcing her fingers straight into the anchoreel's maw. Purplish curlicues of blood drifted upward from where the anchoreel's teeth dug into Salt Wall's palms. Red Tide admired how the muscles across Salt Wall’s back tightened and popped. The wounds only made the berserker stronger, her [Bloodlust] activating to heighten her strength while [Numb] made her impervious to the pain.
Perhaps realizing its error, the anchoreel tried to loosen its grip on Beyond Reach and escape, but it was too late.
By the time Red Tide reached them, Salt Wall had already wrenched the creature's head apart by the jaws. One of its empty black eyes dangled from a socket, popped loose when Salt Wall ripped its lower jaw off. The berserker sang victory through the water and Red Tide joined in. She gave Beyond Reach the benefit of the doubt that he stayed silent on account of having his wind squeezed out of him.
An hour later, they found a sad little island that wouldn't have taken an hour to walk around. The shore was mostly crushed sea glass, but Red Tide scavenged some seaweed and kelp that she could use as bandages for Salt Wall's hands. This wasn’t the first time that Red Tide would treat wounds with only what the sea provided, and certainly not the last.
The lacerations on Salt Wall’s hands were minor, though, and the woman seemed in good spirits. Her [Recovery+] Ink aided in the healing process, filling new flesh into what should’ve been deep gashes.
“We eat well tonight,” Salt Wall declared as she dumped the body of the anchoreel on the beach.
“Anyone know how to make a fire?” Cuda Bite asked. “Those eels taste better with a char on them.”
Salt Wall scoffed. “You would disgrace my kill with some land-walker fanciness? Cooked eel is for cowards.”
As those two squabbled over how to best serve anchoreel, Red Tide approached Beyond Reach. She jabbed two fingers into the Ink on his left pectoral, happy to see him wince.
“Alert,” she read the symbol. “What's that mean, huh?”
Beyond Reach stared at her. “Means I'm aware of danger.”
“So you're supposed to be our spotter, yeah? What the fuck happened?”
“My attention was elsewhere.”
“On me,” Red Tide said.
“You flatter yourself,” he replied.
Turtle Jaw stepped up beside the glowering Beyond Reach and patted him on the shoulder. “Anything broken?”
“I’m fine,” he said, then jerked his chin in Salt Wall’s direction. “She bled.”
“She bled saving your life,” Red Tide said.
“They’re already closer than we anticipated,” he continued, ignoring her. “Now they’ll have a trail.”
“You give them too much credit,” Turtle Jaw said.
“Use the quill,” Beyond Reach replied. “You’ll see.”
Red Tide stood back with her arms crossed as the two men exchanged words. She wanted to know what they were discussing, but she knew that shoving her way into the conversations wouldn’t get her any answers. Let them talk over her head while she observed. She’d learned that when attending some of her dead father’s coup meetings.
Turtle Jaw made a gesture and the quill was in his hands. More magic from the gods, that he could summon the golden inkwell and phoenix feather at will. At the pace they’d been swimming north, none of them had carried anything that might slow them down.
Dipping the quill into the Ink, Turtle Jaw crouched over a clean patch of sand and sketched out a rectangle. “Show me where to find the power,” he intoned. Red Tide understood these words, even as she realized the language was that of the ge’ema. Some kind of incantation.
The Ink spread across the sand guided by an invisible force, filling Turtle Jaw’s rectangle with a map of the world. Once the continents and sea took shape, dozens of Ink dots blossomed across map. At first, Red Tide assumed these were cities and towns, but upon closer inspection she realized that some of the dots were in far flung locations. In fact, one was near them in the ocean between the Grotto and the northern continent.
“What is this?” Red Tide asked.
“Places where we can find you more Ink,” Turtle Jaw said.
“You just used a bunch of Ink to make your fucking map.”
Beyond Reach sighed impatiently, but Turtle Jaw gave her a real answer. “I can’t just give you more Ink, Red, you have to earn it. Every year, the gods make places like this. Trials for you champions to undertake.”
As he spoke, Turtle Jaw drew a loose circle around the dot of Ink in the ocean. The map reconstituted itself around his circle, telescoping into a more detailed view. Beyond Reach poked his small finger into the sand a few leagues north of the Ink dot.
“We’re here,” he said. “About a day ahead.”
Red Tide squinted and leaned closer. She thought the dot in the sand had inched nearer to Beyond Reach’s finger.
“Is it coming toward us?” she asked.
Turtle Jaw nodded, then looked over to where Salt Wall had found a sharp rock and was preparing to slice open the anchoreel.
“Hurry up with that!” he yelled. “We need to get back in the water!”
Before Red Tide could ask what was moving through the water, Beyond Reach wiped away the map.
“As I explained,” he said, “my attention was not on you.”
They spent the rest of the day swimming north at a brisk pace and, at night, they found a current that would carry them further on while they rested. Red Tide smiled up at the stars, enjoying the dull ache in her muscles, eel blood still on her lips and tongue. There were mysteries and machinations about her, but she was happy to ignore them. All this felt to her like freedom. Swimming, hunting, and getting into trouble. This was the life for her.
She sensed ripples to her right and knew that Cuda Bite glided toward her. Red Tide smirked in the moonlight. She was in a good enough mood that, if he asked politely, she might let him have her.
“You know, there's a place where we can wash this shit off of us,” he whispered, using words instead of sea-song so that the others wouldn't overhear.
Red Tide sighed. “I'm clean as they come, little Cuda.”
“I mean the Ink,” he said. “There's a place where we can get rid of it. Let the queen pick some other suckers for the gods’ game. We'll be free. Just got to get rid of Turtle Jaw. I think the two of us could handle him, but couldn't hurt to bring Salt Wall in. Don't know if we can trust Beyond Smalltalk…”
“We can’t,” Red Tide said thoughtfully. “And I could handle Turtle Jaw by myself, if I wanted.”
“Even better,” he replied. “I'd pay a debt to you gladly.”
“But I don't want to.” She dragged one of her claws across a swirl of Ink at her collar. “I haven’t even gotten to try the Ink yet. I like the feel of it, though. The power’s warm.”
“It's a death sentence.”
“I'm not so sure.”
“None of us ever come back from the Granting. We're sport for them.” Cuda Bite rubbed his own chest like he could scrub the Ink off. “They were going to chop off my hands or I'd never have volunteered. How'd they hook you?”
“Boredom,” Red Tide said.
Cuda Bite snorted. “Never been so bored I'd sign up to get hunted.”
“You think this is how it goes every year?” Red Tide asked, kicking her feet gently. “A long swim out to destination unknown with only the warden as a guardian? Seems hard to believe he wouldn’t have gotten himself killed before now.”
Cuda Bite frowned at her in the darkness. “I thought he was just stupid. Or maybe that quill gives him some hold over us we don't know yet.”
“We're already on the line, yeah? Well, I want to see where it leads. So don't go making any moves on poor Turtle Jaw until my curiosity is satisfied,” Red Tide said firmly. “After that, we can talk again about murder.”
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