Deadly Games

CHAPTER 13

No gas lamps burned near the narrow, ricketydocks at the end of the shipyard. Far south of the broad, modernpiers used for military ships and merchant vessels, these berthswere some of the oldest in the city. Moorage was relatively cheapand apparently not enough to cover the expense of public lighting.A quarter moon hanging over the lake illuminated the silhouettes ofsmaller ships, a mix of old steamers, sailboats, and combinationsof the two. Amaranthe questioned whether the vessels being tied tothe creaking docks kept them from floating away or if it might bethe other way around.

She led the men along the street, pausing ateach sign to read the numbers. One might assume Pier 173 wouldfollow Pier 172, but some docks had sunk over the years whileothers had expanded and branched out. They passed 169, 169B, and169C, followed by a skip to 171.

Clothing rustled ahead of them, near awarehouse on the far side of the street. Five or six peopleloitered in the shadows, slouching degenerately against thewall.

“Friends of yours?” Amaranthe murmured toAkstyr, knowing this was the Black Arrows territory.

“Ain’t got no friends left in the gang,”Akstyr said.

“Your rosy personality didn’t endear you tothem?” Books asked.

“Ssh,” Amaranthe whispered.

Though she could not see the eyes of thosewho lurked ahead, she felt the intensity of their attention. Nodoubt, they were calculating odds, deciding if she and her menlooked like easy targets. She doubted it-Maldynado, Books, andAkstyr wore their swords openly-but, then, superior numbers anddesperation could make a group brave.

A few muttered words reached her ears.

“…take them.”

“That one’s got an expensive…”

“…brandy for months.”

Amaranthe shook her head at Maldynado,knowing he was the only one with something “expensive” that wouldtempt thugs.

“Looks like another fight,” Books murmured, aresigned slump to his shoulders.

“Not necessarily,” she whispered, amischievous thought sauntering through her mind. “It’s notcontagious, is it?” she asked loudly.

“Huh?” Maldynado blurted.

“I touched you. We all did,” Amaranthe said.“I just want to know how contagious it is. You should have knownbetter than to sleep with that girl. Fresh out of the tropics withemperor knows what disease plaguing her.”

“How was I supposed to know?” Maldynadoplayed along, but he glared at her. “She looked all right tome.”

“Thank my ancestors I’m not male,” Amaranthewent on. “Did you hear what one of the customers said? Rumor issomeone’s peeper rotted up and fell right off after seeingher.”

Murmurs and the sound of shuffling feet camefrom the posse across the street.

“I bet it’s terribly contagious,” Amaranthesaid.

“Yes,” Books said. “A new strain of pizzlerot out of the Gesh Islands. Coitus isn’t required fortransmission. I expect we’re all doomed just from walking besidethis lout.”

The dark figures in the shadows pushed pasteach other in an effort to be the first to sprint away. One trippedand fell in his haste to round a corner. Nobody stopped to help himup. Cursing, he scrambled to his feet and ran after hiscomrades.

“That’s one way to deter bandits,” Bookssaid, a grin in his voice.

“You would approve,” Maldynado said.“Boss, it’s not right to joke around about a man’s… Did you callit a peeper?”

“Too sanitized?” She pointed down a ricketydock with missing and broken boards. A sign magnanimously called itPier 173.

“Not if your next job will be teaching smallchildren.”

“Will they be less vexatious than you?”Amaranthe led the way down the dock.

“Doubtful,” Books said.

Three ships lined the dock, none with lightsburning on the decks. She started to check the first one, butpaused. The skeletal frame of a crane rose from the deck of thelast ship, a steamer. It possessed a metal hull instead of wood andhad the sturdy look of a tug. Other equipment bristled from thedeck like quills on a porcupine, creating a strange silhouetteagainst the moonlit sky. Gear for pulling treasures off the lake orsea floor, Amaranthe guessed.

She turned off her lantern, and darknessengulfed the dock. She padded toward the salvage vessel, steppinglightly on the warped, creaking wood. In the still night, she grewaware of the sound of her own breathing and a breeze flapping aloose sail a few docks away. The air stirred the omnipresent fishyscent of the waterfront, and for a moment Amaranthe thought shesmelled something else. Something rotten. The breeze shifted, andthe scent disappeared. Maybe it was nothing-a dead fish washed upto a nearby beach.

The starlight did not offer enoughillumination to read the name on the bow, but she could not imaginethis being anything except the ship they sought, theTuggle.

“Must not be any treasure on there now,”Maldynado said. “Nobody’s on guard.”

“Some of the crew might be sleeping belowdecks,” she whispered.

They stopped beside the ship. No gangplankoffered easy access, but Amaranthe had come prepared. She unwound alength of thin rope she had looped around her waist several timesand dug out a collapsible grappling hook. She fastened it and swungthe tool, releasing it toward the ship’s railing. The hook clinkedsoftly and caught on the first try.

“You’re turning into a proficient burglar,”Books said.

“Is that a compliment or a condemnation?”Amaranthe tested the secureness of the rope.

“It depends on whether we’ll be leavingmonetary compensation for the suits we’re stealing.”

Maldynado groaned. “You’re wholesome enoughto teach toddlers right alongside her.”

“I was hoping to return the suits withoutdoing any damage,” Amaranthe said.

“Such as with the trash vehicle?” Booksasked.

She winced. “When we have our men back, I’llsee what I can do about compensating those we’ve wronged.”

“I know,” Maldynado said in response to amuttered comment from Akstyr. “They are the worst outlawsyou’ll ever meet. What criminals worry about such things?”

Amaranthe shushed them, then shimmied up therope. Before climbing over the railing, she paused to listen forvoices or movement on the deck. Only the soft lapping of the wavesreached her ears.

She slipped over the railing and landed in asoundless crouch. Nothing stirred. She glided through the shadows,skirting the crane and capstans the size of huts. A single closedhatch allowed access to the lower levels. She collected the menbefore exploring further.

“Shall we light the lanterns?” Bookswhispered.

“Wait until we’re below decks,” Amaranthesaid.

At this point, she did not think anyone wasaboard, but she did not need someone on another dock noticing theirlight and coming to investigate.

Amaranthe pressed an ear to the hatch. Again,she heard nothing. She turned the latch and eased the dooropen.

A powerful stench rolled out, smelling ofrotten meat and death. Her unprepared stomach roiled, and images ofthe dam-those eviscerated men and women-washed over her. She bracedherself against the wall.

“Ugh,” Akstyr said. “It smells like ahalf-eaten possum left to bake on the street in summer.”

“Or dead people,” Books said, his voicehoarse, as if he was fighting back the urge to retch.

“Really, boss,” Maldynado said, “is itnecessary to take us to such desecrated destinations all thetime?”

“Apparently.” Amaranthe wondered if theSaberfist might have been a better bet after all. “Books, isit possible these people brought back some sort of contagiousdisease from their explorations? Something that…killed them?”

“Pizzle rot?” Maldynado asked.

“I made that up.”

“If it helps,” Akstyr said, “it smells likemore than pizzles are rotten down there.”

“How does that help?” Maldynado asked.

“I read the dock master’s report,” Bookssaid. “These fellows have been in port for a couple of weeks, andbefore that they were working Squall Lake.”

“So whatever happened…” Amaranthestarted.

“Happened after they arrived here,” Bookssaid.

“Do you think we’re in danger of catchingsomething if we go down?”

“If it is a disease, I’d guess we’re findingthem after the point of contagion, but I couldn’t be certain.”

Akstyr lifted a finger. “How about I stay uphere and stand guard?”

“How about you go first?” Maldynado said.“You’re the youngest. The most expendable.”

“What?”

“Maybe they just brought back a treasure thatsomeone wanted and someone killed them for it.” Amaranthe musedthat it was a strange line of work she found herself in when thatwas a cheery thought.

“And maybe not,” Maldynado said.

“I’ll go,” she said. “Akstyr, you get to findout a way to heal me if I contract something.”

“Uh, I don’t know how to do diseases,” Akstyrsaid. “It’s not in the On Healing book.”

“Get a shaman then. Sicarius has found themin the city before.”

“Sicarius isn’t here,” Maldynado pointedout.

All too aware of that fact, Amaranthe pushedthe hatch further open, descended three steps, and entered a darkcorridor. Mosquitoes whined in the air. The scent of urine andfeces lingered beneath the overpowering stench of death. Shebreathed through her mouth as she turned up her lantern. Closedcabin doors lined either side of the short corridor. She glimpsedmetal and coiled rope through an open hatchway at the end.Storage?

A creak sounded from the steps behindher-Books following with a lantern of his own.

“You’ll need help collecting all theequipment and hauling the suits out,” he said, “The kits weigh overone hundred fifty pounds each.”

She gripped his arm. “Thank you.”

Her intent was to bypass the cabins and gostraight to the storage area, but, in the confining corridor, Booksbumped an elbow against one of the doors. It had not been fastenedso it creaked open. He hesitated, then eased his lanterninside.

Whatever he saw arrested his attention for hestared for a long moment.

“Body?” A few steps farther down thecorridor, Amaranthe could not see in, and she was not quick to runup and poke her head under his arm.

“Yes.”

“Throat cut?” She doubted it.

“No. It does appear to be some sort ofdisease.”

Reluctantly, Amaranthe went to take a look.If it was a contagious disease, it was probably too late forthem to avoid it anyway.

The inert male body lay on a cot, his chestbare, his blankets thrown to the floor. A rough red rash coveredthe flesh, a rash Amaranthe recognized. Maybe it wasn’t the same.Maybe the symptoms were just similar. Maybe…

“What is it?” Books asked, watching herface.

“Hysintunga,” she whispered.

“That’s one possibility, but there are otherdiseases with similar symptoms. The insects that carry Hysintungaaren’t native to this area-they prefer hot, humid climates-and it’sunlikely this man died of that malady.”

“I’ve seen it in Stumps before,” Amaranthesaid. “I’ve been infected with it here before. By thatcolonel, Talconcrest.”

Books closed the door on the dead man.“Hysintunga is always fatal, isn’t it?”

“Unless you know a shaman who can healit.”

“But Sicarius is the only one who knows whereto find one?”

“Yes,” Amaranthe said. “It looks like thesepeople are beyond help anyway.”

“If those responsible for the kidnappings arealso responsible for this…how could they have known we’d comehere?”

“Maybe this has nothing to do with us. Maybethey just didn’t want this crew poking around on the bottom of thelake. For these people to be dead now, they would have to have beeninfected days ago.”

Amaranthe continued down the corridor. Morenarrow steps led down to the storage area where spindles secured tothe deck held coils of rope and chain. Cabinets lined thesidewalls, and a low ceiling sloped down to a larger double-doorcubby. She could stand straight, but Books would have to hunch lowto keep from hitting his head on ceiling beams.

“Let’s check these,” she said.

Books took one side and Amaranthe unlatchedthe cabinet doors on the other. Hooks and chains occupied onecubby, rope another, and copper equipment she could not identify athird. No diving suits.

“Any luck?” she asked.

“Not yet.” Books had reached the larger doorsat the end. He unlatched them and tugged one open.

An angry buzz came from the darkness within.A familiar angry buzz.

“Close the door!” Amaranthe shouted,stumbling for the exit. “Get back!”

When Books tried to comply, he cracked hishead on one of the beams, and his foot caught in a coil of rope. Hedropped his lantern and stumbled to the floor. His light winkedout. The door he’d thrust shut banged against the frame and bouncedopen again.

The glow of Amaranthe’s lantern was enough toreveal a fat insect as long as her finger flying from the hold. Atail reminiscent of a lizard’s streamed out behind it. Some utterlyuseless part of her mind remembered the Kendorians called themFangs.

Wings flapped, and the insect veered straighttoward Books. His feet were tangled in the rope, and hefloundered.

Amaranthe tore her sword free and set thelantern down in one motion. She darted to Books’s side and swung atthe insect. The blade sliced it in two. Its halves splatted to thedeck, the long tail still twitching.

Before she could reach down to help Books tohis feet, more buzzes filled the silence.

“Emperor’s warts,” she cursed. She startedtoward the cabinet, hoping to shut them in, but movement near thedoor made her jerk back.

Books extricated himself and leaped to hisfeet, his blade out before he stood fully upright. Four Fangsstreamed out of the cubby.

“Back to back,” Amaranthe barked. “Slice themor squash them beneath your boots, but you’re dead if you let thembite you.”

“Understood.” Books lowered into a crouch,sword raised.

One Fang veered toward Amaranthe. She whippedher blade at it, but the insect sensed the threat and flittedupward. Her tip smacked into a beam instead, jarring her arm. Theblade stuck in the wood, costing her precious time.

The insect arrowed toward her neck. Sheducked, spinning and tearing her blade free. Books’s sword slicedin, hacking a wing off the Fang. It spiraled toward a wall.

Before Amaranthe could thank him, she spottedtwo insects flapping toward him. “Watch out!”

The wingless one bumped against a cabinetdoor near her. Fear stole finesse, and she chopped at it like alogger with an axe. Wood chipped free, and bug guts splattered.

“Got one,” Books said.

“Where are the other two?”

Amaranthe put her back against the cabinetsand held her sword ready before her. She strained her ears,listening for their buzz, but she heard footfalls instead.Maldynado and Akstyr.

“Stay back, you two,” she called, chargingfor the corridor. “The bugs are deadly.”

She darted through the hatchway in time tosee Maldynado ducking and flailing his arms. Akstyr lingeredbehind, and he backed away at her warning.

A Fang buzzed about Maldynado’s head.Amaranthe ran toward him, sword poised for a strike.

He saw her coming and dropped to the deck.She never took her focus from the bug. It drew in its wings to diveat Maldynado, but she skewered it.

“Where’s the last one?” she demanded. If itescaped into the night, it could buzz about the city, infectingcountless citizens.

“Got it,” Akstyr said in a strainedvoice.

He stood on the steps, his arm outstretched.A bug hovered in the air, inches from his open palm. The wingscontinued to flap, but it did not make any forward progress.

Amaranthe raised her blade. “Shall I?”

“Wait,” he whispered.

Akstyr’s eyelids drooped, almost as if hewere falling asleep, but Amaranthe knew better. She did not lowerher sword and debated on simply ending it, but Akstyr neededpractice to master his art.

Seconds ticked by. Though she heard Maldynadorising behind her, she kept her eyes focused on the Fang.

She opened her mouth to question Akstyr, butpaused when smoke wafted from the insect’s wings. A heartbeat laterit burst into flame. Amaranthe gaped as it burned to a crisp. Ashestrickled to the deck.

“It worked,” Akstyr blurted, a grin on hisface.

“That was…disconcerting,” Books said.

“Can you do that with people?” Maldynadoasked.

Akstyr shrugged. “Probably not yet.”

Yet? The day he could do that would be theday Amaranthe feared Akstyr.

“Let’s see what they were guarding,” was allshe said.

The large cubby in the back of the storagearea held five diving helmets and suits as well as tubing andpumps.

“Now that’s disconcerting,” Amaranthesaid.

“What is?” Maldynado asked.

“The fact that Taloncrest booby-trapped thevery equipment we need?” Books knelt to inspect the gear.

“This does lend credence to our theory,”Amaranthe said. “That something’s down there in the lake and thesepeople don’t want it discovered.”

“So they killed the whole crew?” Maldynadoasked.

“It’s possible this doubled as an experiment.When I met that colonel, he was quite cheerful about furthering hisresearch and didn’t seem concerned about deaths. Actually, he waslooking forward to dissecting my cadaver.”

“He sounds like a lovely fellow,” Maldynadosaid.

“I’m not sure how experimenting with diseasescould tie in with the kidnappings though.” Amaranthe reached up andgripped one of the beams over her head. “But if it isconnected, and if there is a laboratory or hideout on thelake bottom, it might be handy to have a tugboat specializing inunderwater operations.”

“You want us to steal a ship?” Maldynadogaped at her. “Oh, Books is going to give you an extra hard timefor that. He was whining when you just wanted the suits.”

“Actually,” Books said, “if the owners ofthis vessel are all dead, I believe Maritime Salvage Law would bein effect.”

“What?” Maldynado asked.

Amaranthe grinned. “Finders keepers.”

“You mean we get to have our own ship?”Akstyr asked. “Nice!”

“Maldynado,” Amaranthe said, “want to comefind the engine room with me? See if things are in workingorder?”

“A tour through a part of the ship likely tobe littered with more corpses? Nice of you to think of me.”

“You could stay and help Books with thesuits. Of course, I’d have to leave him in charge since he’s theunderwater adventuring expert.”

“No, thanks.” Maldynado headed for the door.“Last time he was in charge, he forced me to swim naked in glacialwater.”

A trapdoor in the center of the corridor ledinto the bowels of the ship. Amaranthe climbed down a narrowladder, descending into a tight space crowded with machinery.Nothing clanked or whirred, and the cool temperature promised thefurnaces had been dormant for some time. The air smelled less rankdown there, though a faint singed odor came to Amaranthe’s nose,reminding her of a smelter.

At the bottom, she took a step, lifted herlantern, and halted. “Uh.”

Maldynado dropped down behind her.“What?”

She pointed at a contorted lump of metal thatresembled melted candle wax. “That’s the engine.”

“It’s, ah…” He touched an amorphousprotrusion that might have been a flywheel once. “Hm.”

“A brief but sufficient description.”

Maldynado walked around the contorted mess.“It’s melted right into the deck. You couldn’t even replace it witha new engine.”

“It looks like someone wanted to make surethis ship didn’t engage in any underwater adventures while it wasin town,” Amaranthe said. “If they saw it come into port, theymight have seen it as a potential threat. Even if the treasurehunters had no inkling of what lay below, someone could havechartered the boat and used it as a base of operations forinvestigating.” She rapped a knuckle on the warped engine. “And, ifthis ship was a target, it stands to reason the Saberfistcould be one too when it comes into port. We haven’t had good luckdealing with Mancrest, but maybe we should warn him that hisbrother’s ship may be in danger.”

A clank answered. Maldynado had wandered tothe far end of the engine room and was poking at a lock on a castiron box set into the floor.

“Are you listening?” Amaranthe asked.

“Huh?”

She sighed. Maldynado or Books would call hercrazy for missing Sicarius’s company, but he always listenedwhen she rambled on, speculating about their enemy’s actions.

“Do you think we should warn Mancrest thathis brother’s ship could be in danger?”

Maldynado snorted. “I wouldn’t worry about amilitary vessel. The marines can take care of themselves.”

“Against practitioners?” Amaranthe noddedtoward the melted engine again. “I suppose it’s possible some sortof acid did this, but it seems more likely the mental sciences wereinvolved.” She thought of Akstyr’s bug incineration trick above.She had seen him create a flame to light a candle, too. There mustbe an entire field devoted to heat and energy.

But Maldynado had turned back to the lock anddid not respond.

“What’s so fascinating?” Amaranthe squeezedpast a knot of pipes and joined him.

“This is warm.” He perched on a small stoolbolted to the deck next to the two-foot-by-two-foot box. Rivetssecured the corners, steel hinges fastened the lid, and a padlockhung from a sturdy steel loop.

Amaranthe touched the cast iron. A faint heatwarmed the coarse metal. She checked to make sure the key was notdangling on a hook nearby, or something equally obvious, beforefishing her lock-picking set from her pocket. “Scoot over.”

“Ah, yes,” Maldynado said. “Books mentionedthat you’d acquired that skill from Sicarius.”

She selected a pick and a torsion wrench andbent over the lock. “Did he mention it in a tone of chagrinnedconcern for my deteriorating morality?”

“Yes, but isn’t that his usual tone for allof us? And the world in general?”

After a few minutes of wrangling the pinsinto submission, the lock clicked open. Amaranthe hesitated,thinking of Books’s advice. “It’s imprudent to open a strange boxthat may be booby-trapped with magic, isn’t it?”

“How magical can it be? It’s part of aTurgonian ship.” Maldynado removed the lock and shoved the lidopen.

No explosions threatened to sear off theireyebrows. Good. Amaranthe peered inside, almost bumping heads withMaldynado.

A bronze-and-iron rectangular device restedinside. Two small bars-handles? — stuck out from the ends, levers anddials dotted the sides, and a red, multifaceted glass knobprotruded from the top. There was no bottom to the outer box, andthe device appeared to sit on the deck, but something beneath itkept it from resting flush.

Amaranthe tapped one of the handles. Whennothing happened, she risked grabbing both sides and lifting. Acollapsible pipe linked the bottom of the device to the deckbeneath it, and she had no trouble raising it three feet. Two roundconcave pieces of glass set in the side closest to her made herthink this was something one looked into. She was about to try itwhen the knob on top flared to life, emitting a soft crimsonglow.

She dropped the device. It clunked back tothe deck, but nothing untoward happened.

“That’s definitely not standard Turgoniantechnology,” Maldynado said. He had relinquished the stool to herand crouched at her side, his shoulders fighting for space amongstlevers and gauges protruding from a control panel beside him.

“Maybe the Tuggle has been outside ofimperial waters and acquired tools to help in its trade,” Amaranthesaid. “Could this be some sort of underwater version of theTurgonian periscope? Like the ones used on army trampers for seeingover trees and brush? Only this one lets you see down into thewater?” If so, that might be just what they needed. “These knobsand levers could be controls for rotating it and raising andlowering it.”

“You’re an imaginative girl.”

“Is that good or bad?” she asked.

“Mind if I wait to pass judgment until afterwe see if you get us blown up by playing with that thing?”

After giving the glowing knob a wary squint,Amaranthe pulled the device up again and leaned her face in so shecould peer through the glass eyepieces.

Blackness greeted her. She fiddled with theknob, which she could raise, lower, twist, and push in differentdirections. The view wavered, but she still couldn’t seeanything.

“Because it’s the middle of the night anddark down there,” she realized. “Drat.”

Amaranthe started to draw back, but hersleeve caught on a small lever beneath one of the handles. Itclicked. A beam of light shot out from somewhere beneath theviewing display, and it illuminated the water.

“There we go,” she murmured. The blue-paintedhull of the ship came into view, taking up most of the rectangulardisplay. Not sure which lever or knob to push, she started with thehandles themselves. The box twisted, altering her view below.“Ah.”

Turning the periscope allowed her to see toeither side around the bottom of the ship. Nothing more interestingthan a couple of fish and the wavy green algae on the dock pilingscame into view.

“I wonder if this can go down deeper,” shemused.

“Am I supposed to respond to your mutterings,or are you simply talking to yourself?” Maldynado asked.

“It depends on whether you have an idea.”

Maldynado pressed on the glowing knob.

Bubbles of water streamed past the displayuntil the view vanished in a swirl of sand followed bydarkness.

“Crashing it,” Amaranthe said, “isn’t what Ihad in mind.”

“Oops.” He released the knob.

The darkness faded again, and the viewdrifted up from sand, to seaweed, to water, and finally back to thehull of the tug.

“Huh.” Amaranthe played with the knob andfigured out how to move the viewer, not just up and down, butlaterally as well. She had trouble fathoming how the latter wasaccomplished, but reminded herself magic was involved.

She navigated the display farther from theship and deeper as well, marveling as fish flitted through thelight. Remembering their purpose on the ship, Amaranthe angled theview toward the bottom of the lake.

Ruins-the foundations of long sunkenbuildings-protruded from the sand and seaweed. Amaranthe rememberedsome childhood trivia about the lake level being lower a thousandyears earlier and of previous civilizations that had called thisarea home and built places such as the pyramid.

Nothing more interesting occupied the floor,and she soon passed the last of the ruins. The sandy slope ended ata cliff plunging into blackness. She debated whether to back up andsearch north and south along the shoreline. Wouldn’t the kidnappersstay close to the surface for convenience? The lake was hundreds offeet deep out in the middle. While she considered her options, theviewer’s momentum, or perhaps a stray current, took it over thecliff. It dropped rapidly, and she decided to let it continue.

Maldynado shifted from foot to foot. “Can Iplay with it?”

“I’m not playing,” Amaranthe said. “I’mscouting. Our comrades’ lives are at stake. This is extremelyimportant.”

“All right. Can I scout with it?”

An orange glow emanated from somewherebeneath the viewer, and Amaranthe forgot the conversation. Herinsides twisted. Nothing natural could be making that light; thishad to be the spot.

As the device continued to drop, a greatstructure came into view, all painted metal and massive rivetsrunning vertically and horizontally on the hull. Though the wordhull came to mind, this construction looked nothing like a ship. Itsat on the floor of the lake, reminiscent of a couple of matingoctopi tangled in a tableau of passion. Tentacles-she did not knowwhat else to call them-spread out on two levels, each tube largeenough that, if they were hollow, men might walk through theinsides. Here and there, bulbous protrusions-rooms? — stuck out. Thetwo octopi “heads” were bigger, each the size of a house. Some ofthe larger protrusions had portholes, and she wondered if she couldslip in close to peep through one.

Cannon-like bristles on the ends of the“ tentacles” stayed her hand. Weapons.

Strange creatures swam about, too. Nothingshe remembered from her science classes in school. A translucentgolden fish glided into view, its sleek body pulsing with innerlight.

Something stirred in the seaweed below. Thefish’s glow increased in intensity, and Amaranthe almost had toturn her head away, but then, with a flash, a streak of lightningshot from its body. The charred husk of some innocent lake dwellerfloated away.

A shadow fell over Amaranthe’s viewer. Shetwisted the knob, pulling the device back and tilting it up for alook.

A massive purplish blue creature floatedthere, tentacles-real tentacles-waving around it. A kraken.She had read of them, but they lived in the depths of the sea, notin freshwater lakes.

A tentacle streaked toward the viewer. In theship’s engine room, Amaranthe flinched, jerking her own headaway.

“Idiot,” she whispered. She leaned back in,clamped her hand on the knob, and pulled it back as far as it wouldgo.

But it was too late. The tentacle wrappedaround the viewer, so large it easily blotted out the entiredisplay. Amaranthe did not hear a crunch or snap-not with so muchdistance separating them from the device-but she sensed it. Theview winked out, leaving only her reflection in the glass of theeyepieces.

She stepped back, lowering her hands.

“Do I get to use it now?” Maldynadoasked.

“Uh, sure.” Amaranthe rubbed her face. Shehoped the kraken could not track the viewer back to the ship.

“Wait, it’s broken.” Maldynado frowned ather.

“Yes, and it’s possible we shouldn’t stickaround. Just in case what broke it wants to visit.”

Amaranthe jogged for the ladder.

“I can’t believe you broke it before I got toplay-scout-with it,” Maldynado muttered as he followedher.

She almost gagged when she returned to thedeath stench of the corridor above. She glanced toward the storagearea where she had left Books and Akstyr, but it was dark, so sheheaded outside.

“Over here,” Books called as soon as shetrotted onto the main deck. “We hauled four suits out, and we cango down tonight. This gear is brilliant. There’s no tubing exceptto these packs, which can be filled with compressed air. They mustbe magic of some sort. I can’t imagine we have the technologyto-”

“Not now, Books,” Amaranthe said. They hadlaid everything out on the side opposite from the dock. “It’sdefended. We’re going to have to-”

The deck heaved, throwing Amaranthe intoAkstyr. She bounced off him and almost tumbled over the railing. Itcaught her in the belly, forcing an “Oomph!” out of her lungs. Thefar side of the ship rose, slanting the deck further, and shewrapped her arms around the railing, clinging like a tick lest shebe hurled into the water.

The men cursed, but the sound of woodcracking drowned their words. Everyone else had tumbled to the deckas well, and they were bracing themselves against the railing.

“The suits!” Books cried, wrapping an armaround one helmet and his legs around another.

“Blazing ancestors,” Maldynado yelled.“What’s going on?”

As abruptly as the far side of the ship hadlifted, it crashed down. Amaranthe flew from her perch and landedwith a painful thump on the deck. The ship rocked, and water surgedover the railings. A suit threatened to float away, and she grabbedit.

“Get the gear and run to the dock!” sheordered.

A tentacle thicker than a man’s body rearedout of the water ten feet away. It stretched high, towering overthe tugboat. The tentacle waved menacingly against the starrybackdrop, then plummeted. It slammed onto the deck at the front ofthe ship.

Metal groaned under the assault. A woodenship might have been destroyed right there. As it was, the tentaclewrapped around the base of the crane and snapped the metal support,as if it were breaking a pencil.

Amaranthe ripped her gaze away. The men werealready scrambling across the rocking deck, slipping and flailingin the water streaming past. She grabbed the lone remaining helmetto go with the suit, groaning at the combined weight of the twoitems. On hands and knees, she clawed her away across the heavingdeck after the men.

The tentacle lifted the crane into the airand flung it with an irritable flick.

The forty-foot metal arm flew out of sight,though Amaranthe heard it land. Wood smashed and cracked, and shefeared another docked ship had been turned into a victim.

The tentacle reared for another attack.

She hustled faster. Fifteen feet to therailing and the dock beyond. Maldynado and Akstyr were alreadythere, hurling their suits off the ship.

The tentacle smashed into the main cabin thistime. Wood shattered, and shards flew everywhere, peltingAmaranthe’s back as she continued to drag the heavy suit toward therail. The tentacle thrashed. The roof caved in, and more wavesrocked the ship. Beneath Amaranthe’s hands, the deck trembled underthe stress, and the hull quaked.

In seconds, the cabin was destroyed. Thetentacle lifted from the wreckage and swept sideways across thedeck.

Amaranthe flattened. It came so close, thebreeze ruffled her hair and cold water droplets rained onto theback of her neck. As soon as it passed over her, she sprang to herfeet and sprinted the last couple of paces.

Akstyr grabbed her helmet and tossed it ontothe dock. “What is that thing?”

She winced when the helmet nearly bounced offand into the water on the other side. “I’ll tell you about it whenwe’re safe.” She heaved the suit over the railing and gestured forBooks and Akstyr to follow.

“Whatever it is,” Maldynado said to Akstyr,voice muffled, “I’ll pay you a thousand ranmyas if you canincinerate it with your mind.” He was wearing hishelmet.

Akstyr paused, his foot on the railing.“Really?”

“No.” Amaranthe shoved him from the boat andnodded toward Books. “You next.”

The tentacle grabbed the rail on the oppositeside of the ship and pulled. The deck tilted thirty degrees,lifting Amaranthe’s side high in the air.

She hooked her elbow over the railing, evenas her feet skidded out from beneath her. Books was not as quick tograb hold. He hit the deck and started to slide away. Amaranthethrust a foot out, and he caught it.

The jolt popped something in her hip, but shegritted her teeth and hung on to the rail. She caught it with herother hand and anchored herself, so Books could crawl up her legand find purchase again.

The dock, previously ten feet below the deck,lay twenty feet down now.

“Go,” Amaranthe told Books.

Without pause, he flung himself over theside. The deck rocked. The kraken seemed to know Amaranthe andMaldynado were still on board, and it was trying to shake themfree. They pushed the last of the gear over the side.

“You go first,” Maldynado said.

A new tentacle shot up between the dock andthe ship, the gleaming purple skin not five feet from Amaranthe andMaldynado. Water sprayed everywhere and spattered her in theeye.

“Both of us,” she said. The tentacle sweptdown toward them. “Now!”

They leaped over the railing just as thekraken smashed through it. A chunk of wood hammered Amaranthe onthe back as she fell. Air whistled past her ears.

In the dim lighting, she struggled to judgethe distance to the dock. Through luck more than skill she landedwith a roll that kept her from breaking legs, but her momentumthreatened to send her tumbling into the water on the far side.

A hand clamped about her collar, hauling herback before she flew over the edge.

“Thanks,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Maldynado said, head stillensconced in the helmet.

“I caught her, you dolt,” Books said.“You’re lucky you didn’t land headfirst wearing that thing.”

Amaranthe hustled to her feet and grabbed oneof the sets of gear. “Let’s chat later.”

The dock lacked any sort of comfortingsturdiness, and she ran for the street as quickly as she couldwhile dragging the suit and helmet. The men raced after her. Woodcracked behind them, and the dock shuddered. She did not look back.Only when they reached land and the solid cobblestone of thewaterfront street did Amaranthe feel safe enough to check.

“Emperor’s warts,” she breathed at the sight.Or the lack of a sight.

The Tuggle was missing, along withhalf of the dock. A ship that had been moored opposite the tugboatwas tilted on its side, its wooden masts broken, with water flowingthrough a hole in its hull. Tangled sails smothered the deck. Inthe water, boards, rope, and other jetsam floated, the only remainsof the salvage ship.

The tentacles were gone.

“That was a kraken?” Books shook his head.“That cannot be here. The Aracknis Kraken is adeep-sea-dwelling relative of the giant squid that’s native to theTrechara Trench, two thousand miles away. It feeds on large fish,squids, and other species found only in that environment. It’sphysiologically adapted to a saltwater habitat, and itcannot be here.”

“Thank you, professor.” Maldynado removed hishelmet, and his damp curls stuck out, creating a silhouettereminiscent of a dandelion gone to seed. “Perhaps you should swiminto the lake and tell that to Lord Tentacles out there.”

“That was brilliant,” Akstyr said. “My firstsea monster.”

“Sea monsters can’t be in freshwater lakes,”Books muttered.

“They can if they’re guarding a submergedmagical fortress full of kidnappers,” Amaranthe said.

“A fortress?” Books frowned.

“That’s what I’d call it, yes.”

He groaned.

“Does this mean we’re not going divingtonight?” Akstyr asked.

Books groaned again.