Chapter 41: Foreshadowing

The morning of the fifth day, Mitty levered herself out of bed and went to check in with Hawk. They hadn’t had jaffa together despite his promise, so she had the cook fetch her some from his personal store. She did find some enjoyment from bossing him around; anyone willing to put out food that wasn’t to the best of their capability deserved some reminding. She’d even deigned to teach him how to make pancakes. Mostly because she wanted pancakes for breakfast, but didn’t feel like making them. He’d done an adequate job.

She made her way over to the former captain’s cabin along with Dantes, who’d caught wind they would be trying some unusual drink together. They found Hawk asleep at the desk, buried in papers. His cloak must’ve had storage pockets too, because there seemed to be boxes of the stuff. Upon their entry, however, he jerked awake, scattering maps and tables and references everywhere. Dantes picked one up that landed by his feet.

“What? Ah, Mitty. And Dantes, was it? I’m afraid we might not have time for jaffa like I promised. I still need to decrypt that map. Where did I leave it?” Hawk rifled through some of his papers, searching.

“It’s in an unusual dialect of ancient Florial Runic, I’m afraid the references I have available are quite sparse, so I’ve had to make a lot of guesswork” he said, peering under a stack. “I’ve narrowed it down to something about a center, or a nexus.”

“Like Heart of the Leviathan?” Dantes asked.

“Yes! Exactly like that. Wait, how did you know that?”

“Well, it’s written on this piece of paper here” said Dantes, proffering the sheet he’d picked up.

Hawk took it, confused.

“This is the map, but the runes are undecipherable.”

“No, look here. It says Heart of the Leviathan. And here’s the Florial Gardens, that’s where we came from, right? And that’s The Eyrie. And over there where Esthar should be is Sar’tha” Dantes pointed as he spoke.

“That’s the old name for Esthar, but how can you read these runes? The last fluent speaker would’ve been extinct since before your grandfather’s grandfather’s parents shared water.”

While all this was happening, Mitty had been setting out the cups and a small portable burner for heating the water. Apparently, they came standard in the agents’ jaffa kits for making the drink in the field.

“Calm down Hawk, he could’ve read that silly thing you might call a cipher on that diary you keep much less some caveman scribbles from yesteryear.”

“It’s- a journal. And how did you even get your paws on that? I keep it on me at all times. Wait. You’re a voyager aren’t you, Dantes? Of course, that fits all the pieces together. My deduction skills must be getting rusty from disuse. Ah, thank you for setting up the jaffa, Mitty. I admit the late nights have taken their toll on me; I could use something strong. The trick with white beans is to moisten them with a quick misting before…”

The morning aged as they chatted amongst themselves, and they made good time. Soon Hawk took over for the helmsman, ignoring the man’s protests which were quickly silenced by the captain. Hawk was obviously a competent sailor, but had only a theoretical experience at the helm, accidentally jibing every few minutes. Nonetheless, he was needed at the helm because the island supposedly did not reveal itself to those unaware of its name.

As they approached where the island ought to be, Hawk chanted its name under his breath, and like a mirage, the island faded into existence on the horizon. Despite this, none of the crew seemed to take special note of this, nor did they notice the small fleet anchored on the other side of the island.

There were several ships, long and sleek and armed to the teeth. Built for war, they floated heavy in the water, but they did feel sluggish like an overweight merchant’s vessel. There were also some frigates built for speed, as well as one very ornate clipper, painted black with red trim. It was central to the formation and despite being surrounded seemed to claim command of more space than the rest of the ships combined. Each ship flew a flag of a red sun rising over a desert leaving little doubt as to who they were and why they were here.

Hawk’s hand tightened on the wheel as he brought them to anchor on the far side of the island from the armada.

“That’s his ship” he said simply.

She hoped they wouldn’t be due for an introduction.

The island had long sandy beaches, and the water surrounding it was deep enough that there was little difficulty in finding a place to go ashore. What struck her as odd though, was the lack of sea birds. Normally there was a plethora of avian species whenever sea and land met. She was familiar with the sound of land approaching by now, but the air was silent as it was on the open sea. No life painted this island. It was eerie.

Nearby, an inlet sheared into the island through the treeline like a scar.

Ignoring the bad feelings about this place, she joined the other two on the rowboat and they set off without fanfare. As Dantes rowed, she thought about what they were doing here. Was Will safe? Was Captain Crow? While she didn’t know the captain too well, she did worry about the boy. He’d given her fish, so she figured she owed him a rescue.

What really worried her though was the Sultan.

The mysterious man behind the agents and original owner of this chest. Whatever it contained had spooked Delphi enough to risk the lives of their friends on its retrieval. And her own, presumably. She doubted the woman’s interference would go unnoticed for too long in such an important matter. She didn’t know much about the Sultan himself, and Hawk hadn’t been very helpful in clarifying the matter, only shaking his head when prompted on the man, though she saw a glint of fear enter his eyes whenever she asked.

The waters were calm, and they soon stepped foot on the thin strip of sand that separated the water from the treeline.

As she stepped off the scull, she noticed the sand felt coarse underfoot, and under sparkling white top layer, it was brown-red. The treeline was dense, and though full of plant life, she didn’t hear a living sound.

More magical hocus pocus, she figured. Those bird brains obviously couldn’t figure out the password locking away this island. She didn’t know how land creatures normally reached islands, but they hadn’t figured it out either, it seemed. Maybe they hitched a ride atop birds. That would make sense.

Gathering on the shore, they held a brief strategy meeting. Since they didn’t know where the chest was hidden, they figured the best way to start would be to find Captain Crow or the Sultan’s men.

“He’s deep in the jungle, that way.” said Hawk, pointing.

The direction lay near parallel with the inlet, so they decided to travel along the shallow bank rather than cut directly through the treeline. The inlet was jagged, the waterline sometimes jutting out in random places as though someone had just cut away a slice of jungle and replaced it with water. Along the bank, swathes of trees were leveled, and crevices were frequent, occasionally requiring them to jump the gap. From what she could see, the same was true on the far bank.

From everything she’d heard, jungles were generally fallow places filled with buzzing flies and ravenous fish, and all sorts of inconveniences that matted fur and wrinkled noses. She was glad the rumours were exaggerated, as not even flies bothered them as they trekked into the heart of the jungle. Hawk had taken the spot of scout, traveling ahead, looking for signs of any agents, leaving her and Dantes mostly alone. It was quiet, as the mood wasn’t right for chatting, but she appreciated the determined look on his face. His loyalty to those he considered friends warmed her heart, knowing the same energy was equally pointed in her direction.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

They walked until the sun was directly overhead, their shadows mere blobs at their feet and her hair hot to the touch. She pulled up her hood, hoping it would cool her off. This had the odd effect of making her appear like a splotch of paint on a white canvas, according to Dantes. Still, it kept the sun off her head, so that’s how she traveled.

They soon spotted Hawk waiting for them next at the edge of a large crater near where the inlet finally ended.

“What’s that, do you think?” he said.

The crater was inland a little bit, half filled with water, and the edge was raised where the hardened dirt was lifted and displaced. In the center of the crater was a large round black menhir, oblong, and pointing up out of the water. It cast no shadow with the sun directly overhead and gave off a somewhat ominous aura.

It was an odd placement for such a thing, rising up out of the water as it was. The crater wasn’t very round either, looking more like something heavy had been dragged from the water onto dry land. Maybe a huge boat had run aground here recently? And then been cast off, leaving behind this stone? It didn’t make sense.

“No clue”.

“It looks a bit like you” Dantes chuckled as he climbed down into the crater.

She rolled her eyes but noted that it did have the same light-eating black color of her cloak.

A familiar scent tickled her nose as she stood there at the edge of slope. She wasn’t surprised to find [Magic] on such a bizarre island, but the form it took was unexpected. A waste, too, as she couldn’t just throw a boulder into a frying pan. Still, the magic seemed… malleable. More investigation was needed.

As they climbed down, a single ripple disturbed the water, as if the island itself flinched. They paused, but nothing further happened so they continued their approach.

The stone loomed over her, twice and twice again her height, smooth and black, though not perfectly round. Now that she was closer, she saw some parts of it were covered in a thin film that glistened in the noon sun. She traced her finger through it, finding it was reddish brown and had the consistency of snot.

She circled around, finding Dantes crouched at the stone’s base where it met the waterline. There, surrounding it and barely submerged were several smaller rocks of a similar shape.

“They look a little bit like eggs” he said.

She hummed noncommittally, wiping her hand on the back of his shirt. They really did look like…

Her blood froze.

“Eggs” she whispered.

Dantes heard her and must have made the same connection because he also froze.

“Mitts. We should leave.”

She agreed wholeheartedly. She didn’t want to be around when whatever laid them returned. Whatever it was must have been huge. The one big egg was taller than some houses.

Dantes was backing up out of the crater slowly, gesturing wildly at Hawk to stay where he was.

She made to follow, but stopped, glancing down at the smaller eggs, then at Dantes, then back at the eggs once more.

***

Another shiver ran through the water as Mitts clambered up the side of the crater to join him and Hawk among the mounds of half buried trees. He didn’t like how it made the hair on his arms stand on end, but soon they were making quick time into the heart of the jungle, so he put it behind him.

Apparently, Hawk was a good tracker, which he supposed made sense given they kept bumping into each other. A skill any good hound would be happy to have. The jungle was dense, and they had to follow Hawk closely lest they be stopped by a wall of vines or jutting branches. Somehow, he weaved an efficient way through the trees like Violet had, but it was much more impressive here, where the trees were more densely packed, and the vegetation tougher than small flower stems. It almost seemed like the branches parted to let them through of their own will.

There were lots of greens and browns, and the light was dim. Oftentimes he lost sight of Hawk in his dappled cloak, seeming to meld into the underbrush, though he was rarely more than a few steps ahead. The man had been mostly quiet since they’d arrived, and seemed in deep contemplation, mulling over something important in his mind. Dantes resolved to ask him about it later: he would like to get to know the man better and count him among his growing number of friends.

Having friends was hard, he thought as he pushed aside a vine. They were always getting in trouble. But they were worth getting out of trouble too. Crow had taught Dantes about freedom, and the possibilities that came with it. It wasn’t a small debt he felt to that man. He hoped he was okay. Hawk had assured them he was alive, but he while he trusted the man, he doubted the other agents were gentle if they were like the one’s they’d met in Windcrown. That couple had reeked of desperation and ruthlessness. An ugly combination. He should have finished them off when he’d had… No. He shook his head, clearing out that line of thinking. He did not want to do harm when there was another way. He was better than that.

As the vegetation thinned, he saw Mitty stalk silently ahead using the gloom of the canopy as cover. After a moment he blinked and lost track of her. She would be nearby.

He focused all his senses on the clearing ahead. There seemed to be a large black stone structure barely visible through the trees. He stopped a moment, listening. Dead silence. He’d noticed it after Mitty had pointed it out, but the jungle had no sounds of life. He hadn’t seen a single insect or heard a bird call in the entire morning along the inlet, and deeper in the jungle was no different. Even the wind seemed to forsake this place.

He held his breath and listened harder. He closed his eyes, focusing only on what his ears told him. The gloomy jungle, the scent of leaves, the coolness of his flower tunic on his skin. All these sensations faded away, and he [Heard]. Ahead, a man drew a shallow breath but made no noise as he stealthed away. That was Hawk, he was certain. He listened in silence for moments more, hearing nothing. Until he heard the soft scrape of leaves underfoot. Just the barest tickle against his perception, but it was unmistakeable. Mitty? No, she was a ghost when she wanted to be. Then he exhaled and the sensation faded. He was pleased he’d finally succeeded in a more advanced form of body augmentation. His teacher would be proud.

“Hawk” he whispered, creeping forward as stealthily as he could. “Hawk.”

The man appeared in front of him without a word.

Rather than speak, Dantes pointed to where he’d heard the noise, up ahead near the base of the structure where several trees’ bases tangled together in a thicket.

Hawk nodded, once again melting away. Trying to repeat his previous success, he let his other senses fade away as he stared where the man had left. He didn’t see the man himself, but he [Saw] where he had been. Here, a branch drooped at a different angle, there, a vine shifted ever so slightly in an invisible wind. Up near the little grove, he saw some shifting, snatches of a dark brown cloak appearing where none should.

Then suddenly there was some sudden rustling in the undergrowth before it went still once more. He saw Hawk pop up and wave in his direction, a dagger in hand.

He inhaled as the world seemed to zoom out, finding himself able to hear his own breath thundering in his ears. He pushed forward, noting that his own passage through the jungle was significantly less gentle than Hawk’s had been.

There was a cloaked figure at Hawk’s feet, unmoving.

“Did you…?”

Hawk shook his head.

“Hit her with the hilt. Were you going to finish her off?”

It was his turn to shake his head.

“That gladdens me. Even if we never knew each other, I would prefer not to slay someone who’s endured the same hardships as I.” As he spoke, he rifled through her pouch, finding a small vial of powder. He uncorked it, but instead of emptying it, simply blew over it towards the woman’s face. He recorked the bottle and stowed it.

“Moon Moth powder. She will be out until nightfall. I’m glad you’re not a killer Dantes.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded.

The hair on his neck raised as another shiver ran through the island.

“I felt it too. We should hurry. Crow is…” Hawk pointed up towards the structure, about halfway up on the far side.

Now that they were closer and the trees sparser, he could finally see it somewhat clearly. The tall obsidian black walls covered in moss jutted up at a steep slant. In fact, the whole thing appeared to be sinking into the ground, the sides uneven. They followed along one wall finding a forward slanted staircase around the corner. It looked familiar, like-

“You boys stand guard here; I’ll go grab the captain so we can skedaddle” a voice spoke from behind.

Dantes was used to it at this point, but Hawk whirled, drawing his dagger before he realised it was just Mitts.

“Are you sure, Mitty? There might be other entrances, and we don’t know who’s up there with him” he said.

“There’s two men in black and red. I just saw them go up. There’s also another lookout on the other side, up in that tree overlooking that rock. And there’s no other entrances. Not if this is what I think it is.” She looked up the slanted stairs. “Also, I’ll be faster without you two. Oh, and I’m borrowing this dust.”

It did seem familiar, but it was hard to say, covered in moss as it was, and they were close enough where they could only see a small section of it. Aside from the stairs that led a steep path up the face of the building, the walls were sheer and unadorned, save with moss and small saplings growing out of minute cracks in the stone.

Then what Mitty had said caught up to him.

“No” he said.

Mitty looked at him startled.

“What?”

“I’m not letting you go alone again.”

He wouldn’t let her do this alone. Even if she was right and it would be faster with just her alone, he couldn’t be a bystander in this. And if something happened again and he wasn’t there… He was ready to stand his ground on this. She wouldn’t be pleased, but he was coming along whether she liked it or-

“Well don’t fall behind then” she said, grinning.

He blinked, not expecting that result.

Brushing aside a loose lock of raven black hair, she pulled up her hood, blending in with the midnight black stone and swarmed up the stairs without a sound, leaving him scrambling up after her with only one thought.

She was such a cool cat.