"In the belly of the beast... how many times have you heard this phrase? What does it make you think of? Perhaps being trapped in some great monster's stomach. I certainly think of that, sometimes- bad memories. But there is more to that. The belly of the beast is the place and moment where men are reduced to their worst, base selves, made to confront themselves. Who are they in the dark?" - Narrzho Dhavayn, Duke of Nhargavyn, addressing his court;

As I learned, much to my displeasure, it was not called the Rainbow Burst because of the way it looked.

The moment the ship started, it reared up like a horse. I staggered, falling backwards. The only thing to grab on the deck was the railing, which was too far away to reach. Luckily, Ib was there to catch me. The grey giant -who, I'd noticed, had not moved when the ship had reared up, almost as if it was nailed to the deck- moved behind me, passing me in a blur. Instead of falling backwards, I instead found myself supported by something both strong and yielding. The best way to describe it would be to say it was like a steel pillow: hard to the touch, but pliable.

Eventually, in a few moments that seemed like hours, the ship fell forward, smashing into the tides and spraying saltwater hundreds of meters into the air.

'Oh, for Vhaarn's sake-' I began, looking up at the mass of saltwater falling back toward us. Behind me, Ib chuckled. Then, it changed again, becoming spherical, covering me like a tent. I barely heard the water hitting it as it fell. When things seemed to have settled down, based on the little I could hear, Ib retracted, taking its humanoid form again. It stood with its back to me, all arms crossed and looking at the horizon.

'Did he get washed!?' Mharra's voice came from belowdecks. He laughed, and I could hear Three snickering alongside him.

'You two are arseholes!' I shouted, but I couldn't keep the grin from my face. 'The Pit was that, captain? Some inane prank?'

'No prank, Dhalgo! Consider it your... initiation!' He chuckled, then cleared his throat, trying to sound more serious. 'Before every voyage, you should clean yourself, body and soul, to ensure great fortune on the tides.'

I raised an eyebrow. Was Mharra a Naturalist? The Tide Elders demanded that sailors clean themselves before setting off, but had few other commandments. I supposed it suited Mharra, as far as faiths went. He was a free spirit, so a loose religion made sense....

It would be better than that time I travelled with a Godless, at least. She kept rambling that all gods were actually old mages keeping hoaxes going, and we had to dodge smiting attempts the whole journey.

'He is dry, captain,'' Ib rumbled, sounding amused. 'I covered him.' Mharra and Three jeered.

'Do you want to anger the Elders, Ib?' Mharra asked, in a mock-zealous voice. 'Do you want us all to sink?'

'Don't you want to see him wet, Ib?' And that was Three. I could practically hear him waggling his eyebrows. 'We could dunk him into the ocean if...'

'No, thank you,'' I said, sardonically. 'Now, is there a way to fulfill that stupid requirement without skinny dipping?'

'Just go wash your face, friend. It should be enough,' Ib said, looking at me over its shoulder.

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'I already did this morning. Anything else?' I asked.

'Yes.' Ib turned fully to face me. 'Get back at those two first chance, alright? It does no one good, if only one side gets pranked.'

By now, the ship had started forward, cutting through the ocean like a hot knife through butter. No oars, no sails. Just ingenious mechanisms, maintained by Three... and perhaps something more.

The island disappeared from our sight in minutes. I wondered what had happened with that mob from the inn, and whether they would follow me. I could see no vessel trailing us, but you never know...

I did not wonder what Mherran was doing. That was behind me now, like so many other betrayals, given and received.

By evening, Mharra came to join me and Ib on the deck. His face was visibly flushed, even in the gloom, likely from the heat of the engine room. I wondered whether he had helped Three with maintenance, and asked him so.

'Among other things,' he said, smiling enigmatically. 'Can I speak with you for a moment, Dhalgo? In private.' He gestured toward the railing, and started walking toward it without waiting for my response. I had to jog to catch up with him.

Mharra was leaning back against the railing, head tilted backwards to look at the sky. The moon was half-visible, like a half-lidded eye, and the stars were only now beginning to appear, like shy chicks from underneath a hen's wings.

'What was it, sir?' I asked, crossing my arms and facing him. I'd be damned if I ever turned my back on this man, literally or otherwise. Pit, I barely trusted him while I had my eyes on him.

'What is it you fear, boy?' He asked, not looking at me. 'You are clearly running from something, and I doubt it's just a pursuer or two. Did you run away on your own accord, or were you chased away?'

'What was it that made you become a showman?' I shot back. 'Was your heart so filled with joy you just had to share it, or it would burst? Midworld has enough marvels already.'

Now he turned his head to meet my gaze. His eyes were twinkling, though I could not say with what.

'Pretty good sea legs, for someone who's never left his island.' He grinned. 'Practiced on a lake back home?'

'Indeed,' I said honestly, 'Perhaps you'd like some advice, sir?'

His grin widened, but before he could reply, Ib called out to us.

'Belowdecks! Something is rising ahead!'

And it was. The waves bulged and lifted, a mountain-sized, wormlike shape rising from beneath. It reached the clouds in seconds, and the speed of its passage cracked the air. My ears rang, and I covered them with my hands. They came away bloody.

Water fell away from the thing, revealing its hideous features. It was indeed wormlike, white as a fish's belly and so thick around, a thousand men could not circle a fraction of it. Its face was almost all mouth: a circular, hill-sized nightmare with rows and rows of blackened, man-sized fangs. And its eyes... there was nothing human or animalistic in those gleaming, black depths. They were tall and wide enough to drive an elephant through, and gleamed with a cold, alien intelligence.

And hunger...