The salt no longer stung his eyes, and by the end of the second day, his skin adapted so wrinkles never formed. Under the water, Gele knew—to such a point that he made a bet with Sawyer—that he could perform the Beckoning until old age did him in. His feet never touched the seafloor, and his head never rose over the surface. Floating, he closed his eyes, let the water through his gills, and only listened to the ripples. And from Sawyer’s senses, it made no difference cause she was right with him, sunken in the same trance. The water was the only place Sawyer’s wings could unfold to their full length. And for Gele, within the ocean, there was a tranquil freedom unmatched by anything on land. The sting of the word chimera vanished here, and it meant something else when merged with the sensations of the Beckoning. It was a pinnacle only Gele of Melaopel could reach. Would I lose this when I go to the Second Sea, or would it be shared amongst all the souls?
The first thought Gele had in hours struck him, pulling him awake. At first, he thought his concentration was broken by himself and that he had regressed to amateurish mistakes. However, the tugging on his ankle told him where he was again.
Cloth had been tied around his leg, further connected to a rope leading out towards the shore. If the line had not been there at all, Gele was sure he’d sooner wash up back on Galu’s beach than be able to return to Vall. The trance was wonderful, but becoming lost was unfortunately mandatory.
Sawyer awoke a few seconds later, floating a few feet under him in a dream all her own. Sometimes they would walk in the same visions, either together or as one in the same, blind dreams where all they would do is swim in the cold depths, floating on strange worlds that only made sense in the moment. And when Sawyer was pulled from that, she seemed almost exhausted, it was her first attempt. But even for Gele, the underwater dance and what it conjured were unlike anything he had experienced before. Though it was over now, and he had to swim back to shore.
Following the line, Gele walked out onto the sand. Opening his eyes for the first time in three days, the sun seemed as uninviting today as it was gracious when Arnold died and the Merrow’s bones fell from the Second Sea. Lavishly bright, the beam of sunlight blinded Gele like he had stepped into a fire.
“I had assumed a shark came to eat you by now,” Nimereen let go of the rope and helped Gele into the shade. His skin was painted a vibrant blue, covered with a web of thin yellow stripes.“They’ve been washing up on the beaches on the other side of the island, them and a host of other things. Must have been from where they were swarming around the island. Makes fishing easier, honestly.”
“Any mermaids?” Gele asked, half-seriously. His eyes unconsciously glanced down at his jet-black scales. Too often now he forgot that they were even there. Rather, he got used to it. They formed around his gills, up across the cut Kipper gave him, from his stomach to his face. And then the scales crowded around the rune he carved into his own skin. “Save Me” remained a brand, a telltale reason for taking the plunge, sinking away from humanity into something else. Anyone versed in the mermaid’s words, a language seemingly as old as time, would assume desperation from the man. Gele tried not to dwell on such thoughts. A toxic pit of despair and self-doubt waited for him there. However, it still astonished him at how difficult it was to discern the border between skin and scales. Under his fingertips, they felt near identical and smooth, especially when wet with seawater. Maybe he was not entirely used to Sonia’s gift yet.
“No mermaids,” Nimereen shook his head. Using his fishing spear, he pointed off towards the sandbar. “When I came through, I saw a manta ray not far off from where you were. It was too big, probably close to beaching like the other things, but it seems to have swum off now. Shame, maybe you could have thanked it, you know, for saving Coan back when we were out in the Sea of Shrouds.”
“Sadly, I can’t talk to fish.” Gele was glad, if they dared interrupt his dance, he’d cook them into a stew. “But the manta ray, it’s a different kind of animal. Galu used to have legends about them. They’re messengers between the islands, between the far apart worlds.”
“When you sail off with the pirates, I’ll be sure to use their services.” Nimereen sighed. “Are you sure you want to go, Gele? They’re thieves. Even if we forged a peace, they came to us with malice in mind. We took their weapons, but that does not ensure our safety tomorrow. What if they kill you and come back with more to truly wipe us out?”
“I trust Kipper and Niall, they are good men. But for the other pirates, I’m not too sure. I’ll admit, I have the same worries as you.” Gele reached for his stash of clothes, hidden under the bush. They were Allecrean clothes, all he had now after Shuran’s were lost. “More ships will come, though. That is almost certain. I need to know more about Allecrea. I will do everything I can to keep our homes safe from men like Arnold, and especially from those who are worse.”
“Feels like an imperfect resolution, an ending not worth telling to the people most scared. I cannot promise anything to them, and too many are looking to me for answers I can’t provide. Coan, she’s gone back to her cave, never coming to the House at all. After all this, she chooses to still be a loner? We need her, not me!” Nimereen raised his spear, ready to fling it across the jungle. In a huff, though, he hesitated. Despite notable bravery in the battle, a boy hid behind that mask. “Sometimes I wish I was my father, a real soldier, not a man who fell into the role. I could sniff out the lies, see the truth, and find my way. I feel like we messed up somewhere, that maybe we should have killed them all. The thieves slaughtered people I knew, people I loved, and where am I now?” He dropped his spear. His voice stung with regret. “Sorry, I’ve had few people to speak honestly with. I hate them, Gele. I hate these pirates with every part of my soul. But I can’t let that stop me from making the decisions I think my father would have made. I never knew who he was, really. I just did what I believed he would have done. He would do what I would not, and he would save Vall when I can’t.”
“You already saved Vall,” Gele said. “I know what I am walking into, placing my bed next to strangers who followed Arnold, who came hoping to turn this island into treasure for themselves. But I need to use them and their ship to get to where the true enemy is.” Allecros, he nearly said it. He nearly revisited the garden where all the souls merged as one. Why would someone build such a thing? Do they desire to summon something like the Merrow too? “I will not let faraway threats tarnish the silver in the Sea of Shrouds—the land and the people both. I promise you, Nimereen, I’ll protect our homes whilst I am a thousand miles away.”
“Thank you,” Nimereen said, embracing him. “You’re a good man. Come to the House with me, there are things I need to show you, things that need to be done.”
“The repairs to the ship, they’re done now, right?”
Nimereen nodded. “The mast is replaced, and their hull patched. Once we exchange the captive, it’ll be time for them to leave.”
“And my exit as well,” Gele said.
The hike to the House took Gele through flooded grasslands, where the water that had fallen from the Second Sea built a new marsh. Green water went up to Gele’s waist and the purple grass reached over his head. Little fish he had never seen before scurried away as he marched through the plains. Hiding cats pounced at the startled birds. The tortoises, with their bulky shells, struggled with the new puddles. And a swarm of mosquitoes buzzed around Gele’s head incessantly. Nimereen remained unbothered. The paint on his skin was so thick the bugs did not even try. Sawyer, with a smirk, used the breeze to swat them away from him, only to then mimic the annoying noise right in Gele’s ear. A ghost with wings is the same as a gnat.
The border between the wetlands and what jungle survived the storm was a yard of bones. The Merrow’s arm welcomed them as a jagged gateway, fractured and broken. Some parts were buried deep in the earth, others stood high above the trees. And laying with it were the skeletons of the Second Sea’s dead legion. From whales to clams, from clusters of coral to entire schools of tiny fish. All of them lay decayed and gone, hills of bones slowly being overtaken by moss. And with them, the stone statues of sea monsters leered and smiled as if they had met old friends.
“Wait, Gele! Look!!” Sawyer halted to point at one of the stone figures hidden under the shade of the overgrowth. “There! It’s the Siren!” Made of basalt, the eroded statue shared the resemblance of a gnarled jellyfish, but it was definitely that creature that Sawyer slain.
“So it must have landed here all those years ago, before that mural was painted and Coan’s sword was forged,” Gele thought. “Or at least, sometime between then and now.”
“It seems so,” Sawyer nodded. “What would the Siren want here, same for the Merrow? Surely they eat souls, but for what purpose? The souls in the Second Sea, do they eat those? The Merrow was made of tiny mermaids or something that looked like mermaids. Whatever it was, sprites or otherwise, it was a cluster of individual souls, just like we will be. It makes no sense, and I’ve been asking questions like this since that Siren hid inside Deneve’s tomb, trying to get something from her bones.”
“The souls, the bones of a chimera. Sonia said something about it,” Gele remembered, thinking of the meeting in the cemetery when his gills first grew. It sent shivers down his spine. “She asked if it was time yet, and then corrected herself, saying that the Merrow would come.”
“The thing we saw at the bottom of Allecros,” a fire flickered in Sawyer’s eyes. “Arnold was trying to destroy it, ravage the earth and the wizards’ amalgamation all the same. He failed, and now–”
“–only we know.” Gele stepped through the brush, and following Nimereen, he stepped out onto the ashfield.
Where a city must have once laid, now it too was flooded in green water. Pieces of the Merrow’s bone crashed into the wet soot, standing as white towers along a reflective pool that spanned the once barren wasteland. And even, to Gele’s surprise, sprouts and stalks began to take root too.
“The obelisks that surrounded the beach of Chorrlow,” Sawyer whispered. “There were whale bones, carved with runes, laid out along the beach when I first arrived. They were old though, maybe from . . .”
Stepping into the memory, Gele could see it interlaid atop Vall as if he was standing in two places at once. “They’re similar, for sure.”
“This has happened before, not just here, but across the ocean.” Sawyer nearly laughed. “The Merrow, one of them must have come to both here and Chorllow.”
“But what was offered there?”
“Chimeras, people already stuffed with souls, perhaps. Here, though, the millions buried underground, I’ve never seen amber hold a ghost. Sure, things can be haunted, but not on this scale. When did Vall start burying their dead? When they first arrived, was it to preserve souls or to preserve bodies? Every land has a way of conducting a funeral, it makes sense that amber would be used by Vall. It’s everywhere, siphoned from every fucking tree!” Sawyer’s thoughts clattered together as she wistfully floated up, her wings scrambling to control the breeze. “I don’t know enough to say. Maybe there are other places that found a similar practice. Allecros must have too, in some twisted form.”
“And what will happen to the people if everything falls apart like in the vision?” Gele looked out towards the House. The shell had been repainted, covered in the splatterings of dead fish. Newly constructed rafts clustered together in a flotilla by the open gates. It was the easiest way to ferry the bodies across the flooded field and to the temple once the amber encased them. The burials, where they would be fully fused to the walls of the cavern, happened one by one. Gele had been there for Mysk, Mapsokas, and everyone who had died once Arnold had arrived. But there were only so many Gele could attend before seeing familiar faces behind the orange window. Sometimes, they all looked like Mysk. Other times, Gele saw Shuran.
Coan was the same, absent from the funerals, disappearing altogether without a trace. Searching for her had been futile. Ever since the vanquishing of the Merrow, Coan had not said a word. Gele remembered what greeted him and the warlord upon their triumphant return: Zassamurr’s body and Massamurr laying atop her, sobbing. The boy was missing a leg too. In all, Gele had counted over fifty people slain by the pirates. A plurality were the elders who ran in with the bells, who could not evade the gunfire or the storm.
And the pirates were burned on pyres on the beach by Kipper. Arnold was the last to be thrown into the fire. The flames behaved strangely with him, speckling with green and spewing more smoke than expected. Sawyer had witnessed it, not Gele, but any feelings she had on that moment dwelled in her deepest thoughts.
Upon entering the House, Gele inadvertently walked into a bustling workshop. The craftsman still built spears, making two for every hammer and three for every basket. The weavers were constructing large nets from twine. People wore muskets on their backs and swords around their waists. Also surrendered by the pirates were flagons of gunpowder and Arnold’s potions. “The price of peace,” Kipper had called it when he gave up the weapons. The farmers had gathered seeds from wild plants, planning to plant them in the newly rejuvenated ashfield. And maskless children were playing with straw dolls and using sticks as blunt swords. One of them even shouted, “I am the next Coan!” And from under the shade of the shell, a rock was flung at their head.
“Shut up,” Masamuur sat up, leaning on a walking stick. It had been days since he’d eaten, refusing any food and attacking those who tried to force it down his throat. “Just shut up,” he said, glaring at them with sunken eyes. He had broken his mask too when Zassamurr was buried, staunchly refusing to wear it since. And for all Gele knew, this could have been the first time he spoke since the funeral.
“Boy!” Mashur, the mask maker, was on him in a second, slapping him.
“I’ve tried talking to him,” Nimereen said under his breath. “He wanders out at night. I’ve had to bring him back in the mornings.”
Gele glanced at Massmurr again and saw the boy glowering at him, the sad gaze following him as he trailed behind the fisherman. “He lost so much, his leg, his sister. I would be the same, honestly.” I was just as distraught when Shuran never returned all those years ago.
“Some of the others are worse,” Nimereen whispered. “They see another war as inevitable, that others will come across the ocean. They can’t think about anything else. They’re out there now, watching the waters. Maybe Coan is with them, I don’t know. One of them, I saw in the night, they were burning something in the swamp, trying to use the smoke to ward off things in the Second Sea. I went looking, and all I found were ashes and sea monster bones. We may have lived, but we’re not well off now. Things have only worsened. We traded the burned field outside our home for flooded farmland, sure, but look at us, our people have been hurt. How long will it take a generation to heal? We are still healing from when Rem killed my father. Can we outlast the scars?”
“It’s too soon to know for sure,” Gele said. “But Vall has survived invaders once again. Healing is not impossible. I am only from Galu, but never have I seen such bravery in you all. Live, Nimereen, and help Vall build the peace it deserves. I’m going to make sure our homes are not struck by the blight of another man’s will. They’ll come, they may change who we are, but we have to keep going. There’s always a chance to rebuild if you survive.”
“I know,” Nimereen shook his head, “I trust you, Gele, but it pains me to see you go. You could join us and have a life here. Whatever reason you left Galu, it can’t follow you here.”
“It has,” Gele contemplated spilling everything to him, about Sawyer, about Allecros, about Sonia. But it would mean he’d have to stay. “Thank you, but I have to go. I’ve already made my choice.”
“Then, do what you need to.” Nimereen led him to one of the shelters. Two armed guards stood attentive before the curtain, holding muskets. Gele could smell the stench of gunpowder as he slipped past.
The inside of the mud brick home was painted with birds atop a mesh of a thousand different animals. Even now, someone had half-repainted over it with a scene of warriors fighting monsters with gray swords. And another had drawn the masks of those who now slept under the soil. At the center of the room, Niall lay on a bed of animal skins, a healer at his side, changing the bandages.
“Been a while. I was beginning to think they forgot about me.” Niall sat up, ignoring the healer who tried to make him stay still.
“I’ve been told the ship is ready to sail. All the time Kipper needed has come and gone.” Gele knelt down in front of the pirate. “Fishermen have said the mast is up again and the sails have been patched.”
“And I’m sure Kipper washed his coat too. And they had better patch up that hole in the hull. After being regulated as a hostage, if he hands me a mop the moment I step on board I’m jumping off and joining the fish. They’re still around the island, right? The sharks and stingrays?”
“Like you, they’ll be going home soon.”
“And us to Allecrea?”
Gele nodded, “to Allecros. I need to see it with my own eyes.”
“Me too. Shame I lost one though,” Niall rose to his feet, stretching his legs. “I’m beaten still. My bones hurt like shit, but I'm in a hurry too. Marshall, one of ours, has told me a lot. Kipper mentioned a ghost as well. And there’s things I need to ask about Arnold, enough to occupy us the whole voyage.”
“You said it was twenty thousand miles, we’re not going in one long stretch.”
“Without Arnold’s locket? Absolutely not. Damn him, blasting it to pieces. Listen, we may have to take port at the Glass Islands or the Funnel. We have little to trade for, given our peace offerings, if you can call them that. Foraging for food or just simple thievery may be necessary, but Gele, I would like to know what I can do to help.”
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“No more raiding. I would like to be an invader to Allecrea from now on,” Gele said, “nowhere else.”
“Depends on what we have to do to get there, I suppose.” Niall hugged the healer, bandages stained with the color of her paint. “But nevertheless, I’m ready. Too long sitting in the dark thinking of things I can do. Time to start doing.”
“Then it’s time I say goodbye,” Gele said to Nimereen. “Thank you.”
His farewell was met with silent waves and a short celebration. The soldiers tried to give him the spare swords, but he only said to hang them in Coan’s Cave. And from the glares of the elderly, he suspected the sourness felt for Galu had still not been resolved. Or perhaps their disdain was for Niall, who walked with his head down. Mashur handed Gele a basket of vegetables and roots, and her daughter, a weaver, gave him a new cobalt blue scarf. When he held it, he had to choke back tears. But, as he was leaving, Gele kept glancing at the gateway. Would Coan show up just in time to say goodbye? Even Sawyer watched from afar, sitting on the walls around the House, watching for the warlord. Was it his fault for spending so long in the water? Maybe he could have used the time to find her, to speak to her one last time. He had tried before, but she knew the jungle better and definitely did not want to be found.
Niall struggled to walk through the thick mud that was once dry ash. His boots sank deep into the water, and he complained quietly about his injuries. Helping him, Gele asked him what had happened when the dead tree lit up. In an exhaustive exchange, Gele learned of Niall’s perils, and Niall learned of his. Eventually, Gele told her about Sawyer and what he saw from the amulet. And the pirate turned pale and silent. The thumb on his maimed hand traced the scar that slashed across his face. And he only asked, “what will you do when you get there?”
“I don’t know,” Gele said, “what I need to do, whatever that entails. I understand this thing enough to fear it. I can't do anything in this state.”
“Say you’re the strongest man in the world. What if you still can’t do anything?”
“Fight anyway. The Merrow made all of us small, but it’s gone now, and look who lived to tell the tale.” Gele boasted, fingers tapping on the sword at his side. “I’ve made my choice, now I need to carry it out.”
“Scary,” Niall whistled. “So much fog on a bright and sunny day. Almost–” The stoic sight of the crying cave silenced the pirate. Halting, he looked out over the grass at Coan’s Cave. The storm—if that cataclysm could be boiled down to a simple word—culled most of the vines from the weathered cliffside. Now a bare face of stone, choked by dismay, stared back at them.
Sawyer was the first to approach the grotto. The breeze raced ahead, spilling in. “She’s inside,” the spirit said, glancing back to Gele. “Coan’s in there in case you wanted to say goodbye.”
Saying goodbye to Coan would be different from Emned. It was one thing to leave Galu, a place he always knew he would depart from. Emned has a family of her own, and Coan lost hers. Clow, his mother, knew what Gele had wanted even when Melaopel and Shuran were still alive. Could I say goodbye to Sawyer? No. How do I leave Coan?
“I was young when it happened, my first year as a pirate, but I’ve stood in the same spot you’re in,” Sawyer put a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t remember his face, but that farewell ended better than Maynard, and at least he was spared the Anima’s fate. It’s hard not knowing if they’ll be okay, but sometimes it has to happen. Maybe we can do more, but . . . no, I’ve never been good at this. Regret’s a pain. Too many mistakes and no lessons learned. Sorry, but Arnold’s dead, and look what I did to him. Use our memories. A catalog of mistakes will lead you to a better end.”
“She could see you at the temple. If I make another mistake, I’ll point at you, and she’ll see a pair of flustered chimeras trying their best with what they have.” Gele nodded at Niall, “I’ll be only a moment,” he said aloud.
The cavern was different from when Gele first laid eyes on them. The monsters painted on the wall were now corpses littered among the forest. Gele could easily step outside and find them all. The Merrow too loomed over him, atop the ceiling like something unknown and terrible. What would it be like, walking in here as a child, knowing the bones of something beyond leviathans rests amongst the jungle, slain by the spirits? Did the island triumph over the Second Sea, did Vall destroy a monster, or compared to the vastness of the waters above, was that night only comparable to a quiet drizzle? There would always be something larger. One day, the new warlord will look upon it, and think it a myth too. That thought struck Gele like a cold knife when he saw Coan. She was at the center of the room, standing on her hands, legs lifted high in the air. The runes on her back had faded to another scar. She must have been like that for a while, as sweat coated her skin, and her mask was close to falling off her face. Eyes covered, she could not have seen Gele enter. No. Coan had eyes like Arnold now. She did not see his body, but certainly saw his soul.
“Have you been here this whole time?” Gele asked, his voice echoing off the cave walls.
Climbing down from her handstand, Coan adjusted her mask whilst hiding part of her face. Her eyes peeked through the holes like little lanterns, golden embers holding a faint glow, watching from behind the warlord’s visage. “Gele, I . . . I’ve been all over the island. I’m sorry I never came to see you. I know you’re leaving but. . . .” She turned to the walls, where the hooks hung the pirates’ stolen swords. The only blade absent was Coan’s Sword, which had vanished along with the temple, consumed in the ritual which cleared the sky. “When I was fighting, I was fed so many memories, dreams, and nightmares. The people of Vall, from them I saw our history, past ages I could never imagine. I could feel the grass and the tides, the island itself, and what it was like to live as nature itself. And then, I witnessed the lives of the monsters too. That sword, with the sprite trapped inside, I lived its life, and the life of every little thing I cut down.” She pointed to the ceiling, and her voice dimmed to a quiet whisper as if she had to convince herself to believe what she was saying was true and not simple imagination. “From Arnold’s life, I saw Allecros and what dwells in its tombs. His gift,” she said with spite, “showed me something more. What Vall slain that day, it was no monster. It was the souls of mermaids that live in the Second Sea, like Vall, like us. A human’s soul and a sprite’s . . . near identical. The only difference is the size of the body holding it. It was all I could see, little lights building their way up and building their way down, clashing in the middle. And that song it sang was the only thing I could hear, and still, it was just noise, no words.”
“The Merrow is just another type of mermaid then. The Siren too?” Sawyer said to herself.
Coan glanced at her, eyes wide. “Yes, maybe,” she said, hearing her, understanding the phantom’s words.
“Did you see anything else in the ritual? You said you saw Allecros. Does that mean?”
“I did not grow gills like you, Gele. Something else happened. Even after the battle, I see the visions. Arnold, the Merrow, and Vall itself. I still see all of it, like my soul is latched to the fragments of each of them. My blood is holding us together instead of sap, my veins their catacombs. Maybe, this was how Vall began . . .
“I had to see if I was right. Days ago, I ventured down into the temple and deep into the tombs. There have been many temples, not just that tree, and the tunnels stretch across the island. Far below, it’s a maze, and only me, Mashur, and a few others know the way. Thick ice sealed many of the tunnels, but if you can withstand the shivers, there’s a way to the oldest of Vall. Down there, their bodies are infected with scales, some even have gills. I first believed that were chimeras from the Beastlands. No, they fought alongside me. Their history is the same as mine. We must have come from mermaids who fled to the land. And I could hear it, Gele! From those who lived a million years ago, I heard the Merrow’s song bouncing off the frozen walls!” Coan walked along the wall, fingers tracing the painting. “And then, I went to see my family. The light had wanned there, the spirits still resting. Thanks to Arnold’s curse, I cannot see their faces anymore, only the wisps prancing around in their veins and in their bones. I cannot even recognize my mother’s own broken head! But I could hear her now, and what do you think she was singing? The choir was always there, we could just never hear it. Those chimeras– No, my ancestors had been in a battle like this eons ago. They learned the Merrow’s song while fighting with swords crafted from storms.”
“This has happened before,” Gele muttered, unable to hide his astonishment.
“The Siren, it had a song, sung by its thralls, not the beast itself though. And mermaids? Not far from harpies and angels . . . the beaches of Chorllow may have had Merrow bones too.” Sawyer tapped her fingers against the scabbard on her belt. “Only twenty-thousand miles away from our answer. Deneve, what did she do to reach the sky? Could her wings even fly as high as the clouds? And better yet, was the Merrow its own network of souls? Or are they tied in with us once death comes for us? How vast is humanity, if you could even call it that?”
“People are made of clay,” Coan whispered.
“Beastmen, chimeras, and monsters too, it seems,” Gele added, toiling in his own thoughts. It’s too small, he remembered Arnold’s words, caked in dread. “Mermaids in the water and the sky, Anima on the seafloor, and Allecros on a far off shore. All of them are so far away, in water so deep we cannot even see it up close.” Chills pranced down Gele’s back. Do the things up there have chimeras too?
“But you slew the Anima, and she stopped the Merrow,” Sawyer said, grabbing Gele’s shoulders. “One step closer, one step at a time. And then the Siren!” The phantom lifted her mangled hand. A glint of excitement jumped in her voice. “It wanted something, and so did the Merrow when it reached for Vall’s souls. What is it?”
“Maybe we could learn more from other islands, Rem, Warrl, the Shadow Isles. Their own histories could help us learn more about the world above.” Gele pivoted to Coan. “You should tell the storytellers, warn the House. Prepare for if more ships arrive.”
“No,” Coan’s voice went grim, and the shine in her eyes vanished for only a moment, dying to smolders as she glared at the warriors on the walls. Pressing her mask against her face, she tried to find the words. “I can’t go back. I’ve tried. I’ve stood at the edge of the ashfield so many times. I tried to go to the burials. I may have brought peace, but how many of those people are dead because of me? Zassamurr, a little girl, is dead because of me. My brother was slaughtered when I should have made him stay at the House. I fought alongside the ghosts, we saved our home. And now? Living or dead, I cannot see the faces of my people. Only the masks! I cannot even see my own reflection! Just the metal shards . . . My mother is the same. I cannot see her face ever again. But I sense her. The souls of Vall are in the trees, the water, and even the animals I eat. They’re in this cave, slathered on the paint and nestled in the stone. Even during the night, I bask in its glow. From those who gave their lives and those who I watched die, I see them everywhere I walk. I have traveled to every corner of this island, trying to find a place where I am not haunted. I have given everything to my people, but I cannot stay here. I have grieved and grieved. All my life I have mourned. I cannot live bound to all these ghosts. The song, it’s an eager one. Both living and dead know invaders are coming and are asking when it is time for war once again.
“Let me come with you! I cannot live like this! I cannot lead children into battle again! The House celebrates me, but they don’t know what I’ve seen. They saw a ship on the horizon, and I saw the doom underneath Allecros.” She went from the mural to the swords. Cutlasses and daggers listened on as her voice echoed. “Arnold’s soul showed me what he lived through, a nightmare branded to my mind from a sacrifice we were forced to perform! I am the warlord, a sister to Mysk, and a leader of the House. I can do more than live in fear of what’s coming. I leave the House with the knowledge of the warlord, hidden in the tombs on wooden slabs. That will teach them how to fight. The swords and guns that is all for them. Me? Let me come across the sea with you! There I can bring true peace to Vall without the blood of the next generation on my hands and the spirits of the past blinding me at every turn.” She pointed to a stone in the corner. “I already left my goodbyes written on the rock, I was waiting for you, my friend.”
“If you already made up your mind, I can’t stop you,” Gele said, glad to have her with him.
“I have to protect my people. I need to see that safety is ensured myself.” Coan led him out of the cave. In the sunlight, her eyes were speckled with a bright amber. “And Sawyer, you know about this city too?”
“Not enough, I never made it to the harbor. Ships were sunk.”
“Then, one day, tell me the story, so I can learn one way not to die.”
Sawyer held back a laugh. “If avoiding a terrible end is what you want, I have more than one story. Maybe enough to entertain us for the whole voyage.”
Leaving the cavern, Gele spotted Niall staring at one of the stone statues, making faces at it. When he saw them, he quickly halted, taking a moment to recognize Coan. “What happened?” he asked.
Gele paused for a moment, curious to see if Coan gleaned the language from Sawyer as he did. But when she only looked at him, he understood. She only got Arnold’s memories, not the language. It’s not fused as Sawyer and I are, he concluded. “She’s coming with us to Allecrea.”
“Are you sure? This wasn’t in the peace arrangements,” Niall shook his head, “what if they think we’re kidnapping her?”
“Coan left a message, she can’t go back to the House,” Gele rested a hand on the pirate’s shoulder. “Please, she’s a trusted friend.”
“As long as we don’t get shot for it, bring as many friends as you like,” Niall shrugged.
The final hike to the shoreline was quiet, with Gele trailing behind Coan and Niall for one last look at the land. Owls peered down from overhead. Broken branches covered the forest floor. And Sawyer leaped from limb to limb, trying to fly. No success. She crashed down, landing before Gele with a bewildered smile. It was like watching a child at play, thrusting themselves into danger for the sake of thrill alone.
“I’m almost there,” Sawyer said in a whisper, “I’m almost there.” He could see her thoughts, the wish that her old friends were watching from above. “Gele, I’m nearly there, so close to being able to do something. I’m Sawyer Jean, and I know I can stop what’s under Allecros. Arnold couldn’t, he went the route I would have, given I was still flesh and blood. The thief's way wouldn’t have worked.” She reached up and brushed her fingers against her gills and wings. “Only me, someone wicked and evil, knows what doesn’t work. We can do it now, you and me.”
Stepping onto the beach, Gele saw the ship resting on the horizon. The Manticore was what Kipper called it when Gele had to translate between Vall and the pirates. The black flag was missing from the top of the mast, replaced with a banner of blue. I am not you, Gele smiled. I’m not a pirate at all. Clutching his new scarf, Gele rested a hand on Sawyer’s shoulder. “We will make it to Allecros and pry the truth from the mysteries. We’ll make it, not because of our strengths or our misgivings, but from both wrapped together.”
“Every set of eyes sees the world a different way, but not many are lucky enough to see what we did.” Sawyer tossed a gust at Gele, throwing sand at him. “Still glad it was you who was crazy enough to stick your hand in the Anima’s mouth.”
If Gele could have a choice in it, he would have stood on that beach a lot longer, watching the surf with Sawyer. Tranquil, but not everlasting. He had to go. Niall was shouting across the sand, waving at Kipper who stood in the shallows, pulling a rowboat ashore. His white coat had been washed and scrubbed to the point where the thread was ragged but otherwise seemed brand new. But his other clothes were no different from the battle as if he had not stopped to rest since. The stench of sweat made Gele believe it to be so. Even now the man was drenched, stepping on the beach with a smile accented by a sunken stare and dark circles hanging around his eyes. With him was a young man, more so a boy, trailing behind with a pair of oars tucked under his arms. Dressed in only a pair of trousers and high leather boots, he nearly stumbled on the sand as he pushed the boat onto the beach.
“Hey Niall,” Kipper laughed, his voice so weary it seemed he was close to fainting. “Took all night, or maybe two, but the mast is done, and she can finally go home.”
“Damn, and I was hoping for more rest time, captain,” Niall smirked. “Try being a hostage. Better than hard labor, I assume. Don’t worry, I brought extra hands.”
“She’s coming with us?” The young man whispered.
“I have no issue. Any reason to hate the islanders is behind us,” Kipper glanced at his companion. “Marshall, do you?”
“The villager, no. I haven’t seen her before. I mean . . .” He leaned in and whispered something to the captain. The young man had eyes the size of saucers locked on Sawyer.
“I see,” Kipper muttered, “you mentioned this after the peace talks too. Niall, step aboard. We have little time to waste. As first mate, you’ll be taking position immediately and aiding with the reconstruction. I wish to be departing in the morning once the course is charted. Gele, you will serve as helmsman. Can you and the harpy do well in that position?”
“I see,” Sawyer tsked, watching Marshall flinch as she glared at him. “And the swordsman knows his legends well too. No more secrets for you Gele.”
“I can– We can,” Gele corrected himself, “I know the maps of the Sea of Shrouds, along with the maps of Allecrea. And while I haven’t sailed a ship this large, my partner has.”
“As for Coan, we’ll find a place for her with your help.” Kipper shook his head. “If she isn’t fluent in Allecrean though, you’ll have to teach her. Gele, consider that your second most important job. Then I’ll see what needs doing after I rise from my cot.”
“Thank you, Kipper,” Gele said.
“It was you two who killed Arnold and stopped that creature from smothering us, this is a debt I’ve only partially paid off.” Kipper tapped Marshall on the shoulder. “Stop gawking, and get ready to return to the ship. Gele, can you row too?”
“Do I say ‘yes captain?’ or are you taking on a different title?”
“No, sounds strange,” Kipper flashed a feeble smile. “Not until I get back home.”
With a shrug, Gele took the oar and relayed the conversation to Coan. As Kipper helped Niall aboard, Sawyer stood at the bow of the rowboat, staring off into the horizon.
“He can hear us, can’t he?” Gele asked the spirit, not knowing if Marshall could perceive the language as Emned could.
When the pirate did not react, Sawyer shrugged. “As long as he doesn’t feed us a drink as Emned did, I think we’ll be fine. Not much of a worry anyhow, barely any privacy on a ship to begin with.” Sawyer then smiled. “What a win, living with the sea all around me, and for the first time I have all my time to enjoy it. No work for the ghost, thankfully.”
Glowering at the spirit, Gele turned his attention to the water. Below the seafoam, broken shards of the Merrow’s bones rested in the sand. And the bodies of dead creatures—from both the Second Sea’s and the Sea of Shroud’s abyss—had their skin peeled and meat picked at by crabs and starfish. Further out, the fins of sharks and dolphins followed the lost swarms of fish that had migrated to Vall’s waters and had yet to return to their native homes. With them, a swarm of manta rays, skimming the surface, chased the other fish. One of them went right under the rowboat, large enough to sink the vessel if it tried.
The manta rays would carry on the message, they’re smart fish; compassionate things. His mother’s words struck him as he watched the creatures dance in a castle of bubbles and brine. “Mother! Emned!” He abruptly shouted, startling those with him, even Sawyer. Holding onto his new scarf, he looked out towards Vall. I may never return to Galu, and how many promises after that will I break? Another thing to give up on my way to Allecros, but no matter what, they’ll recognize me, and maybe then they’ll forgive me. “I’ll see you in the Second Sea, then we can watch a world at peace!” That’s not possible. Allecrea is not the inventor of war, any man can use magic. Gritting his teeth, Gele shouted, “I’ll tell you all about the things I’ve seen, a life no one has ever lived before! I’ll–” His voice simmered from a shout to a tired sigh. “I’ll explain why I never came home and that I’m sorry.” Haunting him, the sight of the Merrow reaching for Galu’s verdant mountains paralyzed him, leaving him looking out over the gray water, mesmerized by all the things that could swallow him whole.