The Jewel of Turmish

CHAPTER NINETEEN

In the shadows of Mistress Talia's cargo hold, Barnaby waited to die. At least, he wanted to die a quicker death than the monsters that prowled the merchanter promised. The huge spider-shaped woman was the most terrifying thing he'd ever seen, but it was the dead man with the purple tongue that was the most lethal. Never in his twelve years of life had Barnaby ever given much thought to dying. Another scream echoed through the hold and Barnaby cringed even tighter into the narrow space. He was small for his age, and often the butt of jokes for it, but this night he was glad of his small stature. If he hadn't been so small he would never have been able to fit between the crates. The screaming man stopped with an abruptness that left no doubt in Barnaby's mind that he was dead. The merchanter was only a day out from Alagh?n, headed south across the mouth of the Vilhon Reach. At least four men, two of whom had been on watch, had been lost during the first night. The captain had blamed the uncommonly rough seas and the storm winds that still racked the coast of Turmish. "Hand me that damn lantern, I tell you!" Barnaby recognized Ridnow's voice, but not the fear that echoed within it. Ridnow was a seasoned sailor, a man who'd sailed the length and breadth of the Sea of Fallen Stars dozens of times, and he didn't scare easily. "I said, give me that gods' damned lantern, boy, and ye had damn well best be quick about it." "Ye're gonna set fire to the ship," a younger voice shrilled. "Ain't ye got it through that thick knob of yers, boy? That there's Borran Kiosk an' he ain't here to take none of us back alive. It's yer choice whether ye dies like a man or ye end up spitted on that foul tongue of his." Gathering his courage, knowing Ridnow and the younger man were close by, Barnaby peered around the corner of the crate. He stayed so close to the crate that the effort earned him a new splinter in his cheek. Lantern light threw dancing shadows against the walls of the cargo hold. Ridnow stood near a stand of wine barrels. He was a man of normal height but deep-chested and broad-shouldered. Clutching the lantern in one fist, Ridnow held a bloody, double-bitted dwarven battle-axe in the other. The younger man was Deich, a sailor Barnaby knew but not well. To see the fear so clearly etched on the sailor's face was disheartening. Tears came to Barnaby's eyes and he wiped them away with the back of one arm. "There's going to be more of them, you know," the young man said. "Every one of us he slays rises up against the rest." A crooked grin twisted Ridnow's lips. "Well, that damned corpse ain't killed us yet, Deich. Ye an' me, we still got a chance to be heroes." "I don't want to be a hero," Deich said. "I just want to get off this ship alive." Thunder rumbled outside the ship and Mistress Talia heeled over hard to port. Deich stumbled and almost fell but caught himself against the line of crates that Barnaby hid behind. Another man screamed, this one closer. "They're coming for us now," Deich said. He shifted, taking up a position to the left and behind Ridnow. The younger sailor's only weapon was a skinning knife. "Aye," Ridnow growled, "won't be long now an' we'll see if them damned monsters bleed, too." As Deich tried to stand firm and Ridnow made his preparations, Barnaby realized that an unaccustomed silence had descended inside the ship's hold. The roaring noise of the storm hadn't quieted, of course, nor the creaking protests of the merchanter as she still managed to dive and glide between the hills and valleys of the raging sea. There were no more screams. "C'mon then, ye great gout o' black air an' pestilence!" Ridnow challenged. "C'mon an' see if'n ye got the guts what's needed to take the life of a true fightin' man!" Barnaby glanced around the crate. There, at the other end of the cargo hold, stood Borran Kiosk. The light from Ridnow's waving lantern illuminated the skeletal figure, highlighting the naked bone. "I killed your captain, your ship's mage, and the rest of your crew," Borran Kiosk said. The purple tongue flipped out of the grinning jaws and flicked the air. Tears leaked down Barnaby's face, but he didn't know how he could be crying without knowing it. Pain knotted his guts. "Mayhap ye have," Ridnow acknowledged, "but ye ain't finished with ol' Talia yet, an' she ain't proper finished with ye." Borran Kiosk started forward. Barnaby saw no undue haste in the monster's movements, but his thoughts were immediately drawn to the unseen spider-woman. Where was she? Borran Kiosk came on as if unconcerned about the dwarven battle-axe the sailor held. Movement high above the cargo, trapped for a moment in the dulled glow of the lantern Ridnow held, captured Barnaby's attention. He glanced up just in time to spot the spider-woman scuttling across the beams above. She had an insect's head with only vaguely human features. He didn't know how he'd ever thought her beautiful when he'd first laid eyes on her. He thought only briefly of calling out a warning to Ridnow and Deich, but he knew it wouldn't be enough to save them. Ridnow and Deich were going to die. It was better not to die with them. The spider-woman dropped, sliding along a length of gossamer. Her fat body fell over Deich and her eight legs wrapped tight around him. Deich screamed but only once. Horrified, Barnaby watched as the spider-woman bent down and seemed to kiss Deich's neck. When she brought her ugly head away, crimson stained her mouth and dribbled down her misshapen chin. Barnaby clapped both hands over his mouth and tried not to scream. He hoped the muffled noise that escaped him would be lost in the sounds of the storm and the creaking ship. "Deich!" Ridnow called helplessly. "You lost him," Borran Kiosk said. "Now you stand nearly alone." His purple tongue flicked the air. "Only one more remains after you." He knows! He knows! The panicked thought filled Barnaby's mind. He was scarcely able to restrain himself from hurling out of the hiding place he'd found and-andOnly the fact that he had nowhere to go stopped him. "Aye, monster," Ridnow said fiercely. "Mayhap I have lost me captain and me crew, but I ain't a-gonna let ye have leave o' this ship. In case ye ain't been proper piped aboard, welcome to yer own death!" Whirling, he turned and smashed his axe through the end of a barrel. The astringent smell of alcohol laced the cargo hold and burned Barnaby's nose. Ridnow swung the battle-axe again, completely destroying the keg. Amber liquid spilled out across the cargo hold deck, running first in one direction, then another as the ship shifted. Watching the reflection of the lantern in the pale amber liquid soaking into the wood, Barnaby realized what Ridnow intended to do. The alcohol would burn hotter and faster than whale oil. Something sloshed against Barnaby's thin shoes, soaking them. At first he thought it was brine, that Mistress Talia had sprung a leak somewhere and the sea was getting in, but the liquid reeked of alcohol. He cursed, drawing the attention of the spider-woman. Her opal eyes shone as she smiled at him. Barnaby was chilled to the bone. The spider-woman dropped Deich's lifeless body, but her middle legs still worked busily weaving a web around her prey. Without another word, Ridnow slammed the lantern against the deck. The wick inside the lantern dimmed and nearly went out, then the flames licked across the spilling alcohol, filling the cargo hold with blue and gold light as they ignited the amber liquid with a rushing whoosh! Knowing he would be dead if the flames caught up to him, Barnaby sprinted out of hiding. He ran past the spider-woman, keeping a line of crates between himself and her. Wide-bodied as she was, she couldn't get through the hold nearly as fast as he could. He streaked for the back of the hold, toward the small ladder. He slipped under another stack of crates, feeling the heated air catching up to him as the flaming alcohol poured across the shifting deck, then vaulted over a line of barrels. The spider-woman jostled and bumped cargo in her wake as she tried to catch him. Blood thundered in Barnaby's ears as he caught hold of the ladder and started up. Permitting himself one frightened glance over his shoulder, he saw Ridnow wreathed in the yellow and blue flames. Even as he was burned alive, the sailor screamed out in defiant song and ran at Borran Kiosk. The mohrg's long purple tongue leaped free of its housing and smacked into Ridnow's head. Barnaby saw the old sailor's brain's break through the back of his skull, propelled by the monstrous tongue. The ladder shivered. Glancing down, Barnaby saw that the spider-woman had made her way to it and was even now shifting her terrible body again, changing to something more womanlike but maintaining the horrible head. Barnaby climbed, hands and feet moving so rapidly it seemed as though he was swimming up the ladder. At the top, he flung back the hatch then pulled himself up and out into the lashing rain sluicing the merchanter's decks. He slipped on the wet deck, going deaf from the howling winds of the storm, and pulled himself back to the hatch and peered down. Flames spread throughout the cargo hold, filling it with reddish-orange light. He only had a moment to think about how very far away from shore he was, and how many sharks might be in these waters-or sahuagin that had been released in the Taker's War-before a wild gale rose up from below. As fierce as the winds were above deck, they were dwarfed by the cyclone that filled the hold. Barnaby squinted against it, his face burning from the blast of heat that rushed out at him. He watched as Ridnow's flaming corpse flew through the air and thudded against the back wall of the cargo hold. Even as the big sailor's body started to fall, the winds blew out all the flames and darkness filled the hold. From within that darkness that reeked of smoke and death, the mocking tone of insane laughter cascaded out. The obscene noise warred with the thunder that shook the black heavens above the soaked white sails of the merchanter. Gathering his courage, feeding on fear, Barnaby slammed the hatch closed. He turned and thought he was going to be sick when he saw the undead sailors crewing the ship. A wall of black water rose off starboard bow and rushed for the ship. Silver-white lightning split the sky in a startling blast of incandescence that turned the foam riding the curler of the wave silver-white as well. The undead crew moved slowly, as if they'd forgotten that a ship in a storm had to be waited on hand and foot. The wave of black water slammed into the ship, breaking over the side and washing across the deck. Some of the ship's crew washed overboard, and it was terrifying to watch the men go without screaming. Normal men who knew they were about to die always screamed, and a man falling into the black sea so many miles from shore was surely going to die. The massive cold that came from the brine surprised Barnaby and took his breath away. He clung to the closed hatch while the ship rode out the worst of it then pushed himself away, pausing only to latch down the hatch. He slipped and slid across the wet deck, bumping into one of the undead sailors. The thing had half of its face torn away and was no longer recognizable. Barnaby didn't know if he'd known the man or not. The boy ducked as the dead man reached for him, its torn, ragged mouth open hungrily. They ate flesh. At least, one of the sailors who'd talked about the undead crewmen among them said they ate flesh. Barnaby pushed off the port railing as Mistress Talia caught another bad wave. He caught the rigging just as the ship got caught in the next trough, wallowing and corkscrewing like a fat pig settling into a favorite mud pit. The rope ate at his callused hands as he clung there, breath rasping between clenched teeth. Lightning flared again, ripping most of the shadows away from the ship's pitching deck. The hatch shattered and exploded outward. The spider-woman's gruesome head and shoulders appeared. The opal eyes reflected the lightning haze as they gazed around at the deck. They rested squarely on Barnaby. Heart hammering in his chest, Barnaby started up the rigging. There was nowhere else to go. Even if he could get to one of the freighter's three longboats and manage to get it cast off the ship, he could never hope to keep it afloat without more crew. He climbed, hands and feet moving rapidly, not minding that the rigging and ratlines were dripping water and the rain falling into his eyes was blinding. Fear made him glance back over his shoulder, and things only got worse when he did. He made himself look back up at the lightning-laced heavens and into the teeth of the blinding rain. On and on he climbed, daring to think that the spider-woman wouldn't climb after him. But she did. He felt her moving in the rigging below him even though he didn't look to make sure she was there. At the very top of the rigging, Barnaby stopped. There was nowhere else to go. The sails billowed and cracked around him, and at times they obscured sight of the spider-woman easily climbing the rigging. He looked up from her and at the storm above and the black walls of rolling water around him. Mistress Talia rode deep in a trough and if the undead crew didn't get control of her, she'd founder and possibly break and go down. Barnaby gazed around at the threatening expanse of the Sea of Fallen Stars. The spider-woman was only a few feet below him and closing fast. A great sadness filled the boy, overcoming even the fear that had trembled within him for the last handful of hours as the crew was hunted down and killed. Gathering the last of his courage, aided in his decision by his own flagging strength, Barnaby timed the pitch and yaw of the ship, waiting until it gave him the greatest motion, then he released his hold on the rigging, letting the arc of the ship throw him far out to sea. He spun in the air, watching Mistress Talia, dangerously close to becoming lost herself, and he plummeted into the Sea of Fallen Stars. The cold, black brine closed over Barnaby, and it seemed he could still hear Borran Kiosk's mocking laughter in his ears.