Chapter Twenty-three

Kenta scratched the image of a wolf, or maybe a dog, onto the plank with his dagger. He said the word for it and kept repeating it until I sanded the plank clean with Mana. I was unable to decide what that picture was, so I put the word down for both dog and wolf for the time being. I appreciated his effort, but I just couldn’t understand how a man capable of drawing precise ship designs was unable to draw anything else properly.

He drew a human male bust. It was worse than my own drawings, and I wasn’t sure if he meant “man” or “human”, so again, I memorized the word as if it meant both. Then he scratched another figure onto the plank. It was the same as the previous one, a bust, but for some reason it had long, pointy ears. What was this? An elf? Did this world have elves? If yes, then I was interested in meeting one some day. Kenta repeated the word for "elf" a few times, and I commited it to memory.

Krissy clambered out of the cabin at the back of the ship, yawning and stretching. I offered her breakfast, which she took, then she sat down to eat. Then I turned back to my language lesson, patting Akela with a tentie, learning another new word. This was how I’d been spending the past few days.

Life at sea was boring.

Right until I heard Tommy’s panicked shout.

***

‘Shit!’ I muttered as I looked at the giant mass of tentacles emerging from the water maybe a kilometer away. Krissy was saying something, her voice lost in the panicked exchange between the two sailors. Kenta pushed Tommi aside, grabbing the handle of the rudder, steering the ship into a sharp turn.

Bad! Bad! Bad! Akela’s wailing thoughts echoed in my mind.

I agreed. Bad. A kraken. A fucking kraken.

I suddenly remembered Krissy’s drawing of giant tentacles smashing a ship. I should have known: of course there were krakens in the seas — that’s how Krissy had ended up on my island in the first place. We should have just stayed there. How was I, how were we supposed to survive that? Did it see us? Was it coming our way? Was it going to smash The Island Queen to bits?

‘Uhm … well, don’t worry!’ I tried to calm Akela. ‘That thing is … my cousin. Maybe I’ll just eat it.’

I looked at my own tenties, then at the giant monstrosity out there in the sea. It was getting closer, its tentacles flailing around, splashing incredible amounts of water up in the air — that thing was a godzilla of the seas. Even if it was just coming to chellange me to a tentacle-measuring contest, I’d be the loser, and I had a feeling it had other ideas.

Krissy was urging the sailors to steer the ship more and faster. But ... there was nothing they could do. There was nothing humans, or any other creatures could do against that giant, multi-tentacled menace.

That kilometer between our ship and the monster became half a kilometer in a matter of minutes. I stared at it, at its bright, purple coloured soul. I had to do something. Perhaps I really should try to eat it — it had a soul after all. But my tenties were only two meters long, and I didn’t think Akela or the humans would survive that kind of proximity to the monster. I dreaded the though of them dying. I liked them. All of them. I needed a different and much better idea, but my mind came up blank. I simply stared at our approaching doom, leaving foaming, bubbling waves in its wake as it propelled itself closer and closer to The Island Queen.

Foam. Bubbles. Oh yes. Bubbles! That was it.

We had a minute, two minutes at best. Kenta and Tommi were wailing something that sounded like prayers. Krissy just stood there against the railing, gritting her teeth and mumbling some curse. I was sure they all thought this was the end.

But … I had bubbles.

My mind had never worked so fast as it did now, calling on everything I knew, every little scrap of experience I had with the spiritual building materials I had been using and experimenting with.

I poured all the Essence from both pools — worth 90 EP — out into my body. I poured all 35 MP I had and mixed the two substances together. I didn’t have any Spirit Stuff — I had never figured out how to keep some in reserve for longer than a day — but I used an idea I had been toying with ever since my fight with Jevan’s familiar. I took a deep, mental breath, and I used one of my tentacles to chop off another. It hurt like hell, but I quickly grabbed my poor, severed tentie and I threw it into the Essence-Mana mix, and I kneaded them together, willing it to become what I wanted it to be.

‘Please work! Please work! Please work!’ I cried as I worked.

The mixture was losing Essence and even some of the dissolved Spirit Stuff from my tentie, evaporating into the air. My Tentacle Horror instinct was puzzled at first, then it caught on and helped me guide the Mana to keep the necessary amount of Essence and Spirit Stuff in the dough, fixing it so it could exist in physical reality.

The kraken was upon us. Akela wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go, and I held him back. Even Krissy was screaming now, joining Kenta and Tommi in their cries and wails as they watched the enormous tentacles rise above The Island Queen. Lucky for me, the three of them huddled together for the moment they thought would be their last, Akela in their midst.

Expand you bastard, expand!’ I screamed as I willed the spirit-dough to inflate like a balloon. Like a soap-bubble. And it did.

A single tentacle of the kraken fell on the ship, breaking the mast into splinters, smashing through The Island Queen, cutting her in half. Hundreds of blue flashes signaled the spirit-glue giving up on its task, letting broken bits of wood fly everywhere. The stern of the ship lifted into the air as the middle sunk down, flinging the huddling, screaming people and wolf into the air.

My spirit-bubble grew around us, shimmering a faint blue, debris and water smashing against the expanding membrane. The three humans looked like they were screaming, but I couldn’t hear them. Air. We needed air inside. I opened a few gaps on the surface of the bubble, letting air in, and I finally heard their cries and Akela’s desperate howls. Then I closed the gaps just as we splashed into the sea.

The Island Queen was no more: two tentacles — thick as a hundred year old tree, and at least twenty meters long — dragged the two halves of it down. Krissy, Kenta and Tommi stopped screaming. They all looked around, gawking at the perfectly spherical crater in the water that my bubble had created, sinking a quarter of a way down.

We were safe.

For about five seconds.

That damned, tentacled cousin of mine just wasn’t going to let us go, was it?

I didn’t know if it could actually see us or sense us in some other way, but one of its tentacles fell on my bubble, pushing us into the water, deeper and deeper. Akela resumed his howling, and the three humans their screaming.

The bubble didn’t burst, which was good, but I saw the kraken coiling its tentacle around us. I saw the giant suckers on it, each the size of Kenta’s head at least. It was not letting us go, and there was only one thing I could do.

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I plunged all five of my free tentacles into the purple soul of the kraken.

At first, nothing happened. I began consuming Spirit-Stuff from the part of its soul corresponding to the tentacle, but the beast showed no signs of even noticing it. So I ate some more and some more and some more.

I reached Level 25 and I used all the Spirit-Stuff I had gained to grow my tentacles so I could eat even more. I felt the giant beast shuddering for the first time as I drove my tenties deeper into its soul. And I ate and I ate some more.

A minute passed. Level 26. I grew my tentacles even longer. The humans stopped screaming and I could only hear Akeka’s whimpering. It was getting darker as we were being dragged deeper under the sea. Damn fucking kraken! But there was nothing else I could do, so I kept eating.

Another minute passed. Level 27. The tentie I had cut off grew back. It joined the other five, going deep into the purple soul. My bubble was cracking. I could feel it. The air was running out, too — everyone was breathing heavier, gulping the used up air. We were in almost complete darkness now, and I didn’t even want to guess how deep the beast had dragged us. We weren’t going to last long. And there was still nothing I could do besides trying to eat faster.

Level 28. This wasn’t helping. I was growing but it wasn’t helping. Krissy and the others were losing consciousness — this was now a bubble of carbon-dioxide, and they were … going to die. My friends were going to die. I wouldn’t die but they would.

Level 29. The kraken didn’t budge. I wanted to cry and scream as I nearly gave up, but I saw something. A thin, translucent thread, glowing softly.

Wensah.

The blond wench appeared in the middle of my bubble, right above of the passed out humans, wearing the same red dress as before, and she was almost glowing in the darkness.

‘Wensah!’ I screamed at her. ‘Get us out of here! Now!’

Wensah shrugged and snapped her fingers. A flash of light, and we weren’t undersea any more. I immediately opened as many holes in the bubble as I safely could, and I kept them open. Then I had time to observe where we were.

Our little bubble was bombarded by sunshine, hovering some twenty meters above the sea, or more. I saw remnants of the The Island Queen floating on the water, but luckily there was no sign of the kraken. I would have sighed a sigh of relief if I could. My companions were breathing, still unconscious, but alive.

‘Thanks,’ I mumbled, somewhat dazed, the fact that we all lived sinking in.

‘Alright, first of all, were you eating … a kraken?’ Wensah asked, looking at me with raised eyebrows.

‘Ahm, yes,’ I said.

‘And what’s with the bubble?’ she asked, looking around, reaching out to touch the membrane above her.

‘It saved our lives,’ I said.

Wensah scowled as she lowered her arm, looking at me.

‘Really? It saved their lives, maybe. You’d have been fine, but you won’t be fine because I will kill you because why aren’t you on the island where I left you?’ she howled at me, as angry as I’d ever seen anyone.

‘Well, I made some friends, and we decided to go somewhere.’ I said.

‘Oh, you stupid soul!’ she cried out, looking up at the sky above. ‘I told you why you had to stay on the island. Why wouldn’t you listen?’

‘You didn’t tell me shit! I kind of figured it out, but you didn't tell me shit,’ I countered, my anger rising, remembering instantly what an arrogant and irritating weirdo she was.

‘Do you have any idea what would happen if a Tentacle Horror was loose on the mainlands? Huh? Do you?’ she demanded.

‘Not really,’ I said, wanting to shake the head I no longer had. ‘But … how come you’re here? Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been happier to see you, but why?’

‘Oh, nothing special, I just noticed Essence wasn’t coming my way from you. So I thought you died, you know, that maybe something killed you. Something like your own stupidity.’

Apart from being called stupid, it made sense. I had used all my Essence to make the bubble, and my tentacles had not been collecting any while absorbing the kraken's soul. Of course: no Essence had been going to her through the little thread that … was … right in front of me. The thread. A thin thread that somehow connected me to her, traversing through who knows what distances and dimensions. I could see it again, and I was sure Wensah wasn't aware of this.

'Alright, so ...' I began to say, but she cut me short.

‘I will do you one last favor and dump your so called friends somewhere safe,’ Wensah said, sighing, looking at my companions. ‘But you? I think I can consider this experiment a failure, so … you I will kill. Yes.’

‘What? Hold on hold on hold on!’ I shouted, flailing my tentacles around, making sure some of them accidentally passed through Wensah’s thread, getting a feel for its composition.

‘Hold on what?’ she demanded, her hands on her hips. ‘You’re not only stupid but disobedient. And a Tentacle Horror. I can’t just let you go around showing off your appetite. Everyone would throw a tantrum.’

‘Look, Wensah, I apologize for … not listening to your instructions, alright?’ I said, trying to buy at least a few seconds to come up with something to say, something actually helpful. ‘Going forward I’ll be … more attentive. And I can control my appetite. See these people? Do they look eaten?’

‘They don’t,’ she conceded. ‘Then again, maybe you’re just hoarding food.’

‘Come on, Wensah, I do like them, but not in that way. They’re my friends.’ I retorted.

‘Are you saying I should just let you go and roam around?’ she asked, scowling.

‘Basically … yes.’ I said. ‘You have clearly invested time, effort and Essence into bringing me over here, doing that … what was it? Soul-surgery?’

‘Well, the Essence cost alone was almost prohibitive,’ she nodded. ‘And what a disappointment you turned out to be.’

‘Well, maybe, but only if you … look at it from just one angle.’ I said. ‘When you mess up an omelette you can still turn it into scrambled eggs. I can be scrambled eggs.’

Wensah stared at me, her beautiful, irritating face scrunching up in a grimace. I had to admit, at least to myself, it wasn't my best metaphore, but it just had to do.

‘Uhm … I don’t usually admit when I don’t understand something, but … what are you talking about?’ she growled at me.

In a way, she was surprisingly honest and straightforward for a god-like entity, or spirit. She’d have been a horrible fit for Earth — all the supposed gods back home were all about being cryptic, ambiguous and as difficult to understand as possible. She’d have stuck out like a sore thumb, people denouncing her for not being mystical enough, or for her holy books not poetic enough.

‘What I mean is …’ I said to her ‘… that if your original purpose for me didn’t work out, then find another one. Something more … suitable. Don’t you have creatures you dislike? You could drop us on top of them, and I’d eat them for you. Just an example. And I’d still be collecting Essence, right?’

‘Hm,’ Wensah hummed, apparently in thought now.

I felt like I needed something more to convince her. I racked my brain for whatever else might be weighing against me in her decision making process, and I found one. Tentacle Horror.

‘There must be a way to disguise myself, so that others won’t see me as a Tentacle Horror. Assuming there are creatures besides you that could see me.’ I said, purposefully neglecting to mention my experience with Jevan’s familiar. ‘If I can disguise myself and I behave, I think it should be safe enough.’

Hm,’ Wensah hummed again, shifting her weight from one leg to the other despite floating in the middle of my bubble, slightly above the pile consisting of my friends.

‘So?’ I asked.

‘You’re not wrong that it would be a waste to just kill you,’ she said, and I felt an immense relief. It seemed today wasn’t the day I would die for a second time. ‘But I could just dump you back on that island, you know.’

‘Come on, Wensah, I can be useful to you. I’m sure of it. Can’t you find something for me to do, instead of just having me rot away on some island, playing with ants?’

'Ants?’

‘Long story,’ I said, waving a tentacle dismissively. ‘The point is: I can do things for you. Perhaps even things you can’t do yourself for one reason or another. I can be your secret weapon, in a manner of speaking.’

Wensah looked up at the sky, at the sun, watching it through the shimmering membrane of my bubble. She took her time thinking, and I took my time to unobtrusively observe the thread running from me to her. After a long minute, she looked back at me.

‘Maybe you’re not that stupid after all,’ she said, triggering a distinct sense of deja-vu in me. ‘Fine. I won’t kill you. And I won’t take you back to the island either. I’ll give you a chance … a simple task for you and your little friends here. Let’s see how you lot fare.’

I didn’t have a single second to react or reply — she snapped her fingers again, and the endless sea was no longer the predominant feature of the landscape.