Torby wasn’t speaking. Tab hadn’t really expected that he would, but she had wondered if this sudden change in his situation might prompt him into movement, or even vague recognition.
‘Torby, I need you to talk to me,’ she said.
‘It’s no good,’ Verris said, squinting at the newly risen sun, sickly behind the cloud cover. ‘Don’t waste your time.’
‘It’s not wasted time,’ Tab replied. ‘I’m just trying to get something out of him.’
Verris reached down, took Tab’s arm and lifted her to her feet. His eyes were deadly serious. ‘I don’t mean that talking to friends is a waste of time. I’d like to hear Torby speak just as much as you would. But you need to use your time differently right now. You need to concentrate on this. It was in the chest.’ He held out a small notebook. On the front, in fine letters embossed into the leather, was a single word: ORDERS. Verris patted it. ‘You need to familiarise yourself with these. If you don’t, we’re never getting back up to Quentaris. Not you, not me, not her, and definitely not Torby.’
Resisting the urge to snatch it from him, Tab took the notebook and sat down to read it.
She read aloud: ‘ Your mission is simple. Negotiate with the Yarka and attain some of their powerful gems.
‘Each of you is important to the success of the mission.
‘Verris is appointed with the task of leading the mission. He has not been chosen for his fighting skills, but for his skills as a leader and a negotiator. He has been kept alive for just this purpose – to fail would be to disappoint Us. ’
‘No one will be more disappointed with failure than me,’ Verris said.
Tab half-smiled, then went back to reading: ‘ Your Interpreter is one of the very few Quentarans who can converse with the Yarka. Protect her with the utmost diligence.
‘Your Navigator will guide you from Quentaris to the Yarka and, with all good luck and care, back again. The ocean is vast, and the Yarka difficult to find. The symbols and magical sayings…
‘They’re called incantations, you idiots,’ Tab muttered.
‘Keep going,’ Danda said breathlessly.
‘The symbols and magical sayings contained in the pages that follow will allow Stelka to guide you through the world of the Yarka. She will know how to use them.’
‘Hold on,’ said Verris. ‘Did you say “Stelka”? So why are you here, Tab?’
‘I don’t know,’ Tab replied. ‘I really don’t.’
‘But can you navigate for us?’
‘Of course,’ she said, hoping that her false confidence wasn’t showing. ‘There’ll be no problem at all.’
She returned to the orders: ‘ For Quentaris to achieve what it wishes to achieve, three gems are required.’ Tab whistled. ‘Three!’
‘I know,’ said Verris.
She read on. ‘ You should bring one gem each back to Quentaris, and your mission will be deemed complete.’
‘But if we bring back one gem each, we’ll have one too many,’ Danda interrupted.
‘Keep reading, Tab,’ Verris said.
‘ The fourth member of your party shall remain behind as leverage payment. That is all.’ Tab frowned. Lowering her voice so Torby wouldn’t hear, she asked Verris, ‘So he has to stay behind?’
‘So it would seem.’
‘As their… I don’t know… slave? He has to live the rest of his life with these Yarka people?’
‘Not exactly,’ Verris replied.
‘All right, so they’re not people, but with these Yarka… creatures.’
‘Not exactly.’ Tab saw Verris exchange a quick glance with Danda, who lowered her eyes immediately. ‘Negotiations with the Yarka are quite simple, Tab. The chances of success are far greater if you have something to give them in return.’
‘That’s right. Like I said, a slave.’
Verris shook his head. His eyes were glistening as he levelled his gaze at Tab. ‘I’m sorry, Tab, not a slave.’
‘Then what?’
‘A sacrifice.’
Tab slumped to the floor of the scout-pod. It was as if someone had punched her in the gut, and all the wind had been knocked out of her. ‘Are you sure?’ she gasped.
‘You read it yourself,’ Verris answered. ‘The fourth member of the party will stay back as payment. And there’s only one member of our party who doesn’t have an important job to do.’
‘I think being a human sacrifice is a pretty important job, don’t you?’
Verris smiled grimly. ‘You know what I mean, Tab.’
Tab shook her head furiously. ‘No. No. It’s not going to happen. We’re all going back – all four of us.’
‘Child, be sensible,’ Danda said, reaching out to stroke Tab’s hair.
Tab pulled away. ‘Don’t try to make me feel better! And don’t call me Child!’
Danda’s voice was annoyingly calm. ‘All I’m saying is that if any of us wants to see our families again, we need to follow the instructions in that book there, to the letter. Don’t you see?’
‘I don’t have a family, and neither does Torby,’ Tab retorted. ‘Maybe that’s why they chose us, do you think?’
‘Tab, it’s not Danda’s fault,’ Verris said. ‘The orders are very clear. It has to be this way. Torby stays.’
Tab looked over at Torby. He hadn’t moved from his position in the corner, curled in on himself like a snail that’s been poked with a twig. ‘Keep your voice down,’ she hissed. ‘He might not be saying much, but he can hear every word. Then she went over to him, sank down by his side and stroked his face. ‘It’s all right, Torby. I won’t let them do anything to you,’ she said softly.
‘Tab,’ Verris was saying. ‘We’re nearly there. Time is short.’ He was holding out the book. ‘It’s time to be the Navigator you were always meant to be.’
‘I’ll be back,’ she whispered to Torby, who showed no response at all.
Tab took the book from Verris and opened it. ‘You’re in my light,’ she snapped.
Just as she expected, the pages were full of symbols and diagrams that would once have meant nothing to her. Even now, out of practice as she was, it took her a moment to get her head around them, but surprisingly quickly the understanding began to return.
‘I’m glad you know what you’re doing,’ Danda said, but she was quickly shushed by Verris.
‘So?’ he asked Tab.
‘Yes, I’m getting it,’ she replied. She turned to the copper-bound box and opened the lid. Inside was a small blue velvet bag, and a slightly larger green one. She also saw a humble hinged case, about the size of a child’s shoe, and made from a dark, dense wood.
And there, tucked down beside the bags and the wooden case was a rolled-up cloth, a little like a small tapestry rug, which she removed carefully – it was always good to be careful around magic, especially when it had been a while – and laid it out on the deck. She felt a tiny smile growing inside her as she saw more symbols on the tapestry, familiar, like old friends.
She slipped her hand inside the green bag and took out a tiny red claw, like an open hand poised to form a fist. It was mounted on a pedestal carved from aqua-green quartz-like rock. As she placed it on the tapestry she felt the finest feathery tingles passing through her fingers, but rather than feeling frightened by this, she found it to be yet another oddly comforting sensation.
Finally she opened the drawstring of the little bag. A sudden blue glow spilled from its mouth, catching everyone, including Tab, by surprise. She’d known what was in there, and yet she found herself forgetting to breathe as she reached in with trembling fingers and drew out a tiny fragment of icefire, no larger than a grain of rice.
‘Don’t drop it,’ Danda muttered.
‘Let the girl work,’ Verris said quietly. ‘She knows what she’s doing.’
Even in the growing daylight, their faces were brightly illuminated as Tab placed the tiny gem into the red claw. With a sound that was felt in the gut rather than heard, the gnarled fingers closed around it.
Tab allowed herself to breathe again. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Verris, how far are we from the surface now?’ she asked as she pored over the pages of symbols and incantations once more.
Verris looked over the edge. ‘You’ve got two minutes, I’d say, maybe three.’
‘That should be about right,’ she said. ‘And it’s still just ocean?’
‘Just ocean.’
‘All right, I need silence,’ Tab instructed, throwing a telling glance at Danda. Then, passing her hands over the bright gem, she began to read from the book.
She didn’t need words – the symbols were a language all of their own – but they were a language that could never have been written in any other script. They started as something quieter than speech, more like a low guttural growl, and drifted between the growl and wordless, breathy sighs, like the cries of a baby who has lost its voice. Tab had no awareness of how long the incantations went on, but when she reached the end, she sat back on her haunches and tried to catch her breath. It was as if someone was squeezing her chest.
‘Check now,’ she said to Verris, who went to the railing of the pod and peered down again.
‘What am I looking for?’ he asked.
‘Um… it translates to “bowls”, whatever that means.’
‘Bowls?’
Danda had joined him at the rail. ‘Bowls! Yes! There, see?’
Verris was squinting. Then: ‘Yes! I see it too! Tab, come and see!’
Tab got to her feet and went to the rail. They were quite close to the surface now, perhaps only three hundred feet or less. And in the odd light the waves of the violet ocean seemed sluggish, as if the liquid was thicker than regular water.
But of greater interest was the indentation just off to one side. It looked like a pothole in the surface of the sea, and was as wide across as the People’s Square back in Quentaris. Beyond it was another of these potholes, a little smaller, and when Tab looked harder she saw more. In fact, the closer they came to the surface, the more there were, until they could see that there were hundreds of these depressions, some large, some small, but scattered around the surface of the ocean like pockmarks.
‘It seems like we’re moving towards that one,’ Verris said, pointing at the first crater they’d seen.
‘I hope you said your spell properly,’ Danda said in a voice that Tab felt quite sure she wasn’t meant to hear.
Verris’ face was stern as he turned to face Danda. ‘It seems to me that your opinion of Tab here has been influenced by her size. But you should know that I’ve fought alongside this young woman, and I can tell you that she is immensely brave, a very fine person, and an extraordinary magician. Furthermore, once the time comes for you to start interpreting, she isn’t going to be standing next to you saying, “Are you sure you said that word properly?” I trust I’m being clear.’
‘Very well,’ said Danda, tilting her nose slightly upward. ‘I can see that my opinion isn’t welcome.’
‘Your opinion is welcome, but in this instance, unnecessary.’
Tab felt a tiny smile growing, deep in her chest. She hadn’t realised just how much she’d missed Verris and his forthright, passionate manner.
They were approaching the depression in the ocean’s surface rather more quickly now, almost as if some invisible force was drawing them in, faster and faster. And it was only then that Tab thought to feel afraid. Up until that moment she’d been busy, making sure that her spell was uttered correctly, worrying about whether or not she’d get it done before they landed, trying not to let Danda annoy her, and being concerned about Torby. But now, with the distance between them and the silent, slow-moving waves closing, she finally allowed herself to think about what they might find. Or if in fact they might find nothing, because there was absolutely no sign of life to be seen at all. Except for the depressions pocking the ocean, it was as desolate and endless as anything she could ever imagine.
‘Ten feet,’ Verris said. ‘I think we should probably find something to hang onto.’
While Verris and Danda dropped to the deck and clung to the railing supports, Tab slid across the boards to Torby and threw herself over him. ‘It’ll be all right,’ she whispered. ‘I promise.’
But even as she said it, she knew that she was making a promise that she might never be able to keep.
It was over so quickly. One minute Tab was holding Torby tightly, her eyes squeezed shut, and the next… silence. Complete silence.
She opened her eyes and looked around. The light had changed. Above the surface of the ocean it had been morning, just on dawn, but down here the pearly light was somehow brighter. Its luminescent blueness reminded her of opening her eyes underwater on a bright summer day, back when there was time for swimming. Back when there was summer and fun, rather than the constant vortexes in the sky and strange lands below.
Overhead, the sky was low and glassy, and moved slowly in waves.
On the other side of the pod, Verris and Danda had sat up and were looking around as well.
Verris spoke first. His voice sounded muffled and distant. ‘Everyone all right?’ he asked.
‘Fine,’ Danda replied, her voice also dull and muted.
‘Tab?’
‘I’m fine,’ Tab answered. Her own voice filled her head, as if she had her fingers pressed into her ears. She checked on Torby. There had been no change. His eyes were open, he was breathing, but other than that, he was like the shell of a person.
She stood up, and felt herself being held back by a surrounding pressure. Then, as she turned, she found her feet coming off the deck slighty. Instinctively, she waved her arms up and down, and her feet lifted even higher. It was like she was flying. Flying slowly through thick, heavy air. But then she sank back down onto the deck.
‘Um… this is just a thought,’ she said, ‘but are we… underwater?’
Verris looked up at the low, silver-blue sky, rippling above. Then he too began to flap his arms, and was soon drifting around above the deck. ‘You know, I believe we are,’ he said at last, a half-smile on his face. ‘This is indeed strange magic. Underwater, but talking and breathing.’
‘And not floating away, either.’
‘I don’t like it,’ said Danda.
Ignoring her, Verris went to the railing and looked over the side, and Tab half-walked, half swam over to join him. Below the pod was nothing but deep blue-green, blending into the most impossible blackness.
‘Oh my,’ Tab breathed. ‘That’s deep.’
‘Indeed it is.’
‘So, Verris, you’re the expedition leader,’ she said. ‘What happens now?’
‘You’re the appointed navigator – you tell me.’
‘Um…’
‘The book, Tab.’
‘Oh, of course.’ She went back to the little copper-bound chest, with the icefire fragment beside it on its mat, still glowing coolly in its red fist. She opened the book, and the pages swayed slightly in the water.
‘Anything?’ Verris asked.
‘Yes, there’s something here,’ Tab said. ‘Should I do it now?’
‘You’re the navigator.’
Again, Tab began to ‘say’ the incantation, with its guttural yet high-pitched wordlessness. Almost imperceptibly the pod began to move again, sinking lower in the water, like a body drifting towards the ocean floor. The pressure was beginning to build, and yet at no time did Tab think to worry. Her confidence was returning, and she took comfort in the symbols and diagrams before her.
Unless they were being sent into a trap… She pushed that thought away. Now was not the time to be panicking. It was certainly no time to be sending Danda into a panic, and judging by the look on her face, she wasn’t far away.
‘You’re doing well,’ Verris said, and Tab smiled at him, to thank him. He seemed very calm, which Tab found comforting. They’d been through a lot together, and she trusted him much more than anyone should ever trust a one-time pirate. She also knew that if at any point he should start looking concerned, that would be a perfect time to start panicking.
‘There’s some kind of light,’ Danda said from the railing, and Tab and Verris went to see. It was difficult to tell how far away the spot of light was, but it was definitely there, if a little blurry. And they were moving towards it.
‘Excuse me for a moment,’ Verris said, stepping over to the long sack in the corner. From it he drew a sword, long and curved. He snorted as he held it up. ‘That’s it? A Babdhir sabre? If I’d known that was what they were going to give me, I’d have brought my own. I collected a number of these back when we fought those maniacs, just as mementos. They do have a tendency to break, though.’
‘The sabres, or the Babdhir?’ Tab asked.
‘Both.’
‘Is there anything in that sack for the rest of us?’ Danda asked.
Verris looked at her levelly. ‘Ever used a sword, Danda?’
She shook her head.
‘Then I wouldn’t let you use one anyway. You’ll just cut yourself, or even worse, me. Everyone should do the job they’ve been sent here to do – I do the leading and any fighting that needs to be done, Tab does the magic, Danda does the interpreting and…’ He stopped, and Tab saw his eyes flicker towards Torby. ‘So,’ he ended, removing the sabre from its scabbard and swinging it about. It moved listlessly through the water.
‘Hey, that’s going to be pretty effective,’ Tab said. ‘Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.’
‘Old habits,’ Verris said, returning the sabre to its scabbard and dropping it on the deck with a muffled clang. ‘It’s probably better we don’t show up armed to the teeth anyway.’
The light was much closer now, and Tab could see that it came from a round door or window or some other opening of some kind, set into a huge dark orb, which was darker even than the blackness of the ocean depths beyond it.
‘I wish I could steer this thing,’ Tab said. ‘I’d turn us around and high-tail it out of here.’
‘Steady,’ Verris said as the pod neared the orb. It was looming now, enormous, and somehow in the cold light reflecting from the sides of the pod, she could see that its surface was smooth, like glass. And clean. Not a barnacle, not a scratch.
‘I think we’ve found the Yarka,’ Tab said. ‘Or at least, we’ve found where they live.’
They were no more than ten feet from the orb when the pod came to a complete stop. The opening was several feet across, and the glow coming from it, while bright, didn’t make Tab feel like squinting or blinking. It was as if the light, like everything else, was struggling to make its way through the heavy water.
‘So, what happens now?’ Danda said. The water muddied her voice, but it couldn’t disguise its waver.
‘Shh.’ Verris raised his hand and turned slowly on the spot, his long hair trailing behind and around him. ‘Now we wait.’
Even time was sluggish down here, and as Tab gazed into the light from the orb she found her mind drifting. It felt most peculiar. Here she was, below the surface of a strange ocean, breathing water like a fish, hovering in a rudderless vessel so far down into the depths that light was soaked up by the darkness. And the portal in the side of the glassy orb continued to glow, staring at her, while she stared back.
She was suddenly brought back by the sound of Danda’s voice. ‘Is this the only one?’ she said. ‘Is it just us and… this?’
Then, as if they were awakened by her question, other lights began to show. Their appearance was sudden, not like lighting a lamp or a candle, where the wick must catch, then build to a flickering warmth, but immediate. The same cold bluish light appeared in a spot to their right, then to their left, then below, above, everywhere, one after another. And as each light reached them through the water, the orb from which it came showed up as well, dark and alien. There were tens
… no, hundreds, perhaps even thousands of the dark structures, hovering in the water all around, each of them with its glowing round window pointed directly at them.
‘I think what you meant to say was “Is it just us and these?”,’ Verris said solemnly. ‘And yes, that’s exactly what it is – just us and… these.’