The Serpent Sea

Chapter Fourteen

The ramp curved down into darkness, the stale air heavy with the scent of old and new decay. The light caught carvings rimed with mold: processions carrying biers, faces twisted in pain and grief.

In the dark it was it hard to tell, but they all looked like the blue-pearl groundlings. Maybe they lived here first, Moon thought, and the others all came later. Maybe it was their crazy idea to tame a leviathan. He suspected many of their descendants had cause to regret it.

They were some distance below street level when their light fell on an opening in the wall that looked as if it had been roughly chiseled out. It stank of edilvine that was gradually fermenting into something else, and as Jade stepped inside they saw bundles of the vine, stuffed into vats filled with dark liquid. Esom made a gagging noise, clapped a hand over his mouth and nose, and retreated back to the corridor.

“That’s the drug,” Stone said, and stepped past him. “It smells like that wine bar.”

The stink of it was intense, but it wasn’t having any ill effect on Moon or the other Raksura.

“That’s not what we want.” Jade turned away, hissing in frustration.

Moon glanced at Chime just in time to see him flinch, as if something had suddenly poked him. “Are you all right?” Moon asked, as they followed Jade down the ramp.

“Yes.” Chime kept his voice low. “It’s that… thing I told you about. It’s worse here.”

Chime meant he was sensing the leviathan again. Unlike Chime’s flash of insight about the barrier over the door, Moon didn’t see how an awareness of the leviathan could help them. It wasn’t like they didn’t know the creature was here. Though maybe Chime would be able to give them warning if it was about to move again.

“What thing?” Flower demanded from behind them.

“You didn’t tell her?” Moon said, his attention on the corridor ahead. It still sloped down, curving back toward where the mortuary temple lay on the surface.

Chime protested, “I didn’t have a chance—”

Then Jade said, “Quiet, there’s light ahead.” She handed the light-rock back to Stone, who tucked it away in his pack. After a moment, Moon’s eyes adjusted, and he saw the dim white glow somewhere down the corridor.

Following it, they found the passage ended in a wide doorway that led to a much bigger space, scented of earth and cold water and more decay.

They stepped through and made their way down a crumbling set of steps into a cavernous chamber, the ceiling curving up out of sight. It was lit by fading mist-lights, their vapor heavy in the air. The lamps stood on metal stands only ten paces high and secured to the floor with clamps, leaving most of the chamber in heavy darkness. Dozens of thick, square pillars supported the ceiling, and every surface Moon could see, the walls, the pillars, was covered with plaques carved with unintelligible writing. It felt like a deep underground cavern, but they hadn’t come down nearly far enough for this space to be completely below the surface. “We’re under that dome,” Moon said softly.

Her tail lashing, Jade turned to Balm, River, and Chime. “Scout this place.”

River flicked his spines in annoyance, but he leapt to the nearest pillar, and scrambled up to jump to the next. Esom ducked nervously as River passed over his head. Balm and Chime bounded away in different directions. Moon tasted the air, but the stench of decay and the competing odor of the fermenting edilvine overlaid any more subtle scents.

Jade looked around again, thoughtful. “This carving—is it writing?”

“It’s in the city’s native language. I think it’s names, the names of the dead.” Esom stepped closer to the nearest column and squinted to see in the dim light. “The plaques must cover their burial vaults.”

Moon wondered why the inhabitants of this place had chosen that method. He had seen groundling cities that stacked their dead in aboveground mortuary vaults, and it never seemed like a good idea to him. For a city on the back of a leviathan, it was worse. But it might be a holdover from their homeland of Emriat-terrene, an attempt to show their dominance over the leviathan by keeping the same customs they had practiced on solid ground.

Flower frowned. “So this is where the dead are supposed to be put, and instead they sell them to water travelers?”

“That’s the rumor,” Stone said, suspiciously studying the shadows overhead. “From the death-stink in that passage, I’d say the rumor’s true.”

Moon said, “They can’t be selling all their dead.” Surely the water travelers had to have some other food source besides dead groundlings from this city. “Maybe just the ones who can’t pay for a place here.” Or maybe there was no room left, all the space taken up with the ancient bones of turns and turns of dead.

Flower lifted a brow, dubious. “You have to pay for a place to be dead in?”

Moon shrugged. “Sometimes, in cities. It’s a groundling thing.”

Balm bounded back to Jade’s side and reported, “There’s a stairway and a passage, but it goes up, toward the doorway in the plaza that the groundlings were guarding.”

“There has to be a trap at that entrance,” Moon said. Ardan would be expecting them to come in that way, and had placed the barrier at the water traveler dock to keep them from using it as an escape route.

Scrabbling sounded overhead, and River’s voice called out, “There’s something here!”

They crossed the dark space, following River’s progress back over the ceiling, Esom sprinting to keep up.

They were headed toward the center of the huge chamber, toward an open space ringed by more pillars. In the very center, standing on the paving, was a tall, domed structure made of stained, coppery metal. It stood forty paces high, and was at least that wide. Wrapped around the verdigrised metal was a figured sculpture of a sea serpent, coiled over the curve of the roof. Its triangular head hung over the top and glared sightlessly down at them.

“This is what you want,” Esom said, breathing hard as he caught up to them. “This looks like part of another structure, much older than the mortuary.”

As the others spread out to examine the structure, Moon stepped close to look at the surface. The metal showed pitting and discoloration that might be from harsh weather, as if it had been exposed to the elements for turns before the mortuary temple had been built atop it. He felt air move across the scales on his feet and looked down at the base of the dome. There was a gap there, too regular to be a crack, and it seemed to stretch all along the foot of the metal shell. “He’s right—it’s not sitting on the floor. The floor’s built around it.”

Jade had circled the dome and returned to stand next to Moon. “We’re close; we have to be,” she muttered. “Does anybody see a door?”

Chime arrived a moment later and dropped lightly down from the ceiling. “I found a small passage going off toward the east, but there were no lights, so I couldn’t tell—” He stared at the dome, then threw an uncertain glance at Jade. “We think the seed is in there?”

“We think something’s in there,” Flower said in frustration, and flattened her hands against the discolored metal.

Then Balm leaned close to one of the metal coils of the serpent. “Wait, I think there’s a seam under here. Someone come and—”

“Quiet.” Flower turned suddenly and stared intently into the shadows past the pillars. The tension in her body made Moon turn to follow her gaze, but the shadows were empty. The air was undisturbed, not even by a drift of dust motes in the mist-light. The stillness made an uneasy prickle creep up under his spines. Then Flower said, “Something’s coming.”

The others stirred uneasily. Stone shifted, the sudden blur of dark mist making Esom flinch and stifle a yelp. Looming over them, Stone took in a breath with a hiss.

River shook his head, but watched the darkness warily. “There’s nothing here. We searched.”

Flower didn’t even glance at him. Her voice had a grim edge. “It’s coming through the air.”

“The wardens,” Moon said. They had known this place might be under their protection. “Ardan’s guard creatures.” But even as he said it, he felt a shiver across his scales as the air turned cold and dry, as if something was drawing the damp out of the stone surfaces. That hadn’t happened when the wardens had appeared in Ardan’s tower.

Impatient, Jade told Flower, “You look for a way to get into this damn thing while we kill these creatures.”

Moon said, “Getting out of the temple is going to be the problem.” The air grew tight, making it a little difficult to breathe. Ardan could have put a hundred of the things down here. “We don’t know how many—”

“Getting out is not the problem,” Flower said flatly. She shifted to her Arbora form, her scales white as bone, catching no gleam from the light. “That’s the problem.”

It formed out of the darkness just past the pillars, a shape so large its head brushed the lowest point of the ceiling’s arch. Moon’s spines flared and he snarled in astonishment as the diaphanous shape solidified into blue scales and massive clawed hands. He saw the fish-like tail with giant fins, stretched away between the pillars. It was the giant waterling that hung in Ardan’s tower. From the sickening scent that wafted from it, it was still dead.

It went from insubstantial to solid faster than Moon could shout a warning. It lunged forward with a muffled roar, its unhinged jaw gaped. Stone flared his wings, leaping at its face.

The waterling roared, flung up an arm to push Stone away, but the distraction gave them all a chance to move. Jade snatched Flower out of the creature’s path and fell back as the others scattered. Moon darted forward and dodged the giant hand that slammed down a pace from his tail. That too-close look told him it was only too true. The creature was still dead. Its scales were discolored. The flesh around its gnarled claws gray with putrefaction. He jumped over its hand, raked it with his feet claws in passing. It snarled, turned toward him and away from Chime, who had just grabbed Esom and bounded away. Stone hit the waterling’s face again, and as it batted him away Moon ducked under its arm, bolted across the floor, and leapt up to the pillar where the others had taken cover.

They all clung to the far side, with Jade, Balm, and River peering around the corner at the waterling. Flower had pulled away from Jade and hooked her claws into the carving to support herself. Chime crouched above her, clutching a terrified Esom. Stone had retreated to the opposite side of the chamber. Hanging from a pillar, he lashed his tail and growled to keep the waterling’s attention.

Moon climbed around River, who hissed, “What is that thing?”

“We can kill it.” Balm clung to the pillar next to Jade, watching the creature with predatory speculation. “It’s not as bad as a major kethel.”

“But it’s already dead,” Moon told them. “It was hanging in Ardan’s tower, stuffed.”

“He’s right,” Esom seconded miserably from above them. “It’s been reanimated, somehow, or this is a spirit-construction. I really have no idea how Ardan did this.”

Jade and Balm stared at Moon and he said, “Me neither.”

Flower said, grimly, “There’s nothing I can do.”

“Then how do we get past it?” Chime asked, frantic. “The serpentdome—”

“We’ll take care of this thing. You, Flower, and the groundling get the dome open,” Jade snarled.

“How?” River demanded.

“Go for its face, distract it so Stone can attack.” She tensed to spring off the pillar. “Now!”

Jade, Balm, and River took the direct route and sprang from pillar to pillar. Moon swarmed up to the ceiling, then jumped rapidly from carving to carving to drop down on the waterling’s head just as the others hit it in the face and shoulders. It roared and flailed at them, then Stone hit it from behind, slamming into its back to dig his claws into its scales.

Its tail flipped up, slapped Stone, and sent him tumbling across the chamber. Moon caught a glancing blow from its hand and it flung him away to bounce off a pillar. He hit the floor and rolled to his feet, his head ringing. River was on the floor, struggling to stand, and Balm clung to a pillar, shaking out her wings. Jade had managed to hold on to the waterling and still tore determinedly at the creature’s neck. Oh, this is going to be a tough one, Moon thought grimly. He saw Chime, Flower, and Esom had managed to get back over to the little dome, that they were crouched down to examine the gap in the floor. Moon took a deep breath and dove for the waterling again.

He struck at its face, twisted away to avoid its teeth as it snapped at him. The thing didn’t react to pain like a living creature, and it didn’t bleed, and that was going to be a problem. River struck at its lower body and opened a gash across its stomach, and the creature barely noticed.

As Moon bounced back to a pillar and braced himself for another strike, Jade got in a rip across its throat, just above the decaying gills. That should have opened an artery, but it only released a short burst of foul-smelling fluid. It clawed at the wound and reached for Jade, forcing her to scramble back over its shoulder.

Moon saw that Balm clung to the ceiling carving just above, caught her eye, and pointed emphatically toward the creature’s head. Balm nodded, and Moon pushed off the pillar as she dropped from the ceiling. As Balm landed on the waterling’s head, Moon darted at its face, distracting it. Then Balm stretched down and raked it across the right eye.

The waterling roared, flailed its arms, and Moon twisted away only to run smack into a giant blue palm.

It slapped him out of the air. Instinct made him snap his wings in to protect them. Moon hit the paving in an uncontrolled tumble, and bounced to a halt to land on his back. The breath knocked out of him, he looked up to see the waterling’s big ugly face looming over him, one eye ripped open and leaking puss, the other filled with fury.

Then the waterling jerked back, roaring.

Moon shoved himself back and scrambled away, far enough to see Stone clamped to the creature’s back, his teeth and claws sunk deep into its flesh just above its spine. Then Stone twisted his head.

There was a muffled crack and the waterling stiffened, its tail lifted and fell with a thump that Moon felt through the paving. Then it slumped sideways, its body going limp.

Stone released it, spat in disgust, and jumped down off the creature’s back. The waterling was still alive, or at least animate. Its one working eye was still aware and furious, and its fingers twitched, though it couldn’t seem to move its arms. Moon took a deep breath in relief. He didn’t think they could have kept that up much longer. Jade and River glided down from the pillars to land at a safe distance, staring uneasily at the fallen creature.

Then from the dome, Chime shouted, “We’ve found a way in!”

Moon staggered upright. Chime had somehow managed to lift up the heavy figured metal of the sea serpent’s coil, next to the seam Balm had found earlier. Flower leaned down and pried at something hidden under the coil, while Esom tried to peer over her shoulder without getting poked by her spines.

Moon reached them just as Jade arrived, River limping after her. Chime said breathlessly, “This metal piece is on a hinge, see? And there’s a—”

“A place for a key.” Flower had found a slot in the smooth metal under the coil. The slot was meant for something round, with oddly-shaped projections; it did look like a keyhole.

Esom said, “But we don’t have the key. There might be some way to pick it.”

Flower stepped back to look at the foot of the dome where it fit against the floor. She straightened up and tapped the edge of the seam. “Stone, push on this. I think this is a separate piece that slides sideways.”

Stone leaned in, retracted his claws to plant his hands on the metal, and pushed. With a creak and a squeal of distressed metal, the whole section of the dome started to slide, slowly revealing a split at the seam that leaked dim white light.

They moved hastily back, and Jade pulled Flower away.

As the dome opened, they saw an empty room only half the size of the structure, lit by two hanging vapor-lights. The walls were covered with the now-familiar carvings of blue-pearl groundlings, discolored with age. In the center stood a broad waist-high plinth, the slanting surface set with polished crystals in various blues, greens, golds.

Flower stepped inside and moved toward the plinth. Esom hung back, telling her, “Careful. It could be dangerous.”

Moon leaned inside the doorway for a better look at the plinth. Metal plates set beside the crystals were covered with incised writing and figures. We didn’t know it, but this was what we were looking for. He said, “You know what that looks like?”

Chime nodded, almost bouncing with excitement. “The steering device of a flying boat.”

Stone braced himself and gripped the sliding panel more tightly. Apparently the mechanism wouldn’t allow it to stay open on its own. Jade stepped over the threshold, and said, “Steering? You mean this is where they control the leviathan?”

Flower frowned at the plinth and shifted back to her groundling form as if she could see it better that way. “But there’s no way to turn it, no way to steer.”

Watching anxiously, Esom said, “It has to be some kind of control mechanism. We know the Magisters controlled the leviathan when the city was first built, but they lost the ability.” He edged forward, trying to see better but still clearly wary about approaching the device. “Maybe they lost the knowledge to make this work.”

At the moment, Moon didn’t care. He stepped inside, moved close to the plinth, and tried to make some sense of the objects set into its surface. Only one was even vaguely familiar, a round brass plate protected by a glass cover. Inside was a sliver of metal on a pin, pointing south, that quivered and settled again when he tapped the glass. But Flower was right; unlike the steering column of the Golden Islanders’ flying boats, there seemed to be no way to turn the plinth.

“Where’s the seed?” River demanded from the doorway. “Is it in that thing?”

Flower shook her head, bared her teeth in an unconscious grimace. “I don’t know, give me a moment. We’ll have to search this room. There might be more hidden doors.”

Jade glanced up, started to speak, then frowned. “Wait, where’s Balm?”

Moon turned. Balm wasn’t in the room, and wasn’t outside with Stone. Oh no, he thought, and felt his heart sink. The last time he had seen her, she had been on the waterling’s head, just before it had swatted Moon out of the air. She hadn’t been there when Stone had hit the creature from behind.

Flower looked up from the plinth, her brow furrowed with worry. “What? Where is she?”

River and Chime turned away from the doorway and stepped back out into the mortuary chamber. “I don’t see her,” River said. “Unless she’s…” He hesitated, and stared at the waterling where it lay sprawled across the floor.

Jade threw a worried look at Moon, and started after River.

Moon caught her wrist to stop her at the threshold. “Stay here and help Flower search for the seed. Let us look for Balm.” If they had to dig Balm’s crushed body out from under the waterling, he didn’t want Jade to see it.

She hesitated, her spines flicking uncertainly. She clearly wanted to search for Balm herself, but they had to find the seed and get out of here, before Ardan sent anything else after them. After a moment, she nodded reluctantly and turned back to Flower.

Moon stepped out of the dome. Esom still hovered uncertainly by the doorway, nervously watching Stone. “Should I help them look for the seed?” he asked. “I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t want to…” He waved a hand helplessly. “… provoke someone to kill me, but we should hurry before—”

“Ask Flower,” Moon told him, distracted. Chime and River moved around the still-twitching body of the waterling, looking for any sign that Balm was trapped under it. He wanted to get over there and help.

Esom drew breath to speak. Then Stone hissed a warning. With a loud plop, five of Ardan’s warden-creatures appeared, barely paces away.

Four of them leapt for Stone’s head, one came at Moon. Moon yelled a warning to the others, and slung Esom away from the claws that reached for him. Stone tried to hold onto the dome’s panel, but the wardens hit him hard, knocked him off balance and away from the dome. The panel snapped shut.

Moon snarled in fury and slashed at the wide, fanged mouth of the warden bearing down on him. It slammed him to the floor, its weight crushed him down, and he sunk his claws into its jaw. He barely held it back from biting his head off.

Hot ichor washed over his hands. The warden jerked back and howled. Moon ripped it across the eyes and scrambled up in time to see more wardens pop into existence all over the chamber, as far as he could see.

Stone leapt for the nearest group and Moon lunged after him. Jade and Flower were trapped in the dome. Unless there’s a latch—there has to be a way to open it from— Then the wardens charged him, and Moon had no time to think of anything but fighting.

Moon and Stone fell back across the big chamber, fighting warden after warden. Stone took them on directly. Moon darted in to slash at them, harried them into Stone’s reach, or finished off the walking wounded. Moon was peripherally aware of Chime and River doing the same, protecting their flanks. He kept getting glimpses of Esom, as he scrambled to stay behind them and away from the wardens. They must have killed dozens of the creatures but more came. Ardan was throwing every resource he had against them.

Then River called out, “We’re nearly to the wall! What now?”

Moon risked a look and saw they were nearly against the far wall of the chamber. There was a wide chased-metal gallery built across it, about thirty paces up, probably meant as an access to the tombs there. Unless Ardan had wardens who could fly, it would provide a needed respite. “Get up there!” he shouted to the others.

River bounced up to the gallery, and Chime snatched up Esom and followed. Stone pitched one last warden across the chamber and climbed after them, Moon close behind.

Panting, dripping with the creatures’ bitter blood, Moon gripped the railing, looking over the chamber. He couldn’t see the dome from here. It was lost in the shadows. He could see the scattered, bleeding bodies of the wardens. The dozen or so still on their feet edged forward. And past the first row of pillars stood a group of blue-pearl guards. They surrounded a single robed figure: Ardan.

“He’s here,” Moon said, glancing at the others. “The groundling magister.”

Chime and River were breathing hard, their scales covered with claw marks, the nicks and scratches of near-misses. Esom was flattened back against the wall, his expression numb with fear. Stone curled around the railing, most of him resting on the delicately incised metal of the gallery floor, tail dangling and deceptively relaxed. He snorted derisively, making his opinion of Ardan clear.

The magister moved forward, to the last row of pillars, barely fifty paces from them. He called out, “Please, let me speak to you!”

“We can hear you,” Moon said, pitching his voice to carry.

Ardan stepped forward again, and shaded his eyes against the glare of the nearest vapor-light. Squinting up at them, he said, “Surely we can come to some agreement.”

Moon hesitated. He knew Ardan had a talent for sounding sincere, but it was hard to resist the appeal. Ardan must not know Jade and Flower were trapped in the dome. If they could just talk him into letting them get back over to it…

Esom whispered urgently, “Don’t believe anything he says.”

River hissed in contempt. “He only wants to talk because we’re winning.”

“We’re not winning by that much,” Chime said, keeping a nervous eye on the wardens.

Stone jerked his head, telling Moon to go ahead and talk.

Moon spread his wings and dropped down from the gallery to land lightly on the floor.

Ardan regarded him for a moment. He was breathing roughly too, as if he had been in a battle. It must have cost him an enormous effort to send all these creatures after them. It was a relief that it wasn’t much easier to send them than to fight them. Ardan said, “I should have taken even more precautions, but I didn’t realize Esom knew where the seed was.” He hesitated, and looked up at the balcony again. “I didn’t realize there were so many of you here, or that one was so… formidable. I don’t see Rift. I assume he’s unhurt?”

So all their speculation was right and the seed was here, hidden in the dome. At least all this wasn’t for nothing, Moon thought. “Why do you care about Rift? Worried you missed a chance to have a Raksura stuffed and mounted?”

Ardan’s voice tightened. “He’s my friend. I don’t want him injured. He’s told me what he can expect from his own people. Your reaction to him was proof enough of that.”

“He stole our seed. He knew what that would do to the tree,” Moon said, and thought, He thinks Rift is here. He wants him to hear this. “Give it back, and we’ll leave. That’s all we want.” It was worth a try.

“I’m afraid I can’t.” Ardan’s voice was low and intense. “I persuaded Rift to help me take it from the forest because I had no other choice. It is a powerful artifact, and it means the survival of everyone in this city.” He stepped forward, and his men spread out to either side of him, watching Moon nervously. “Over the turns, our own magic has waned. We have to use substitutes, objects that carry inherent power that can be transferred to the devices that keep the leviathan from sinking below the surface or thrashing until it destroys the city. When I brought the seed here, the other magisters were only days away from losing what little control over the creature we have.” He spread his hands. “You must understand. Your people can find another place to live. Mine have no choice.”

Moon said, “We both know that’s not true.”

Ardan’s face went still, and a flush of heat darkened the blue skin of his cheeks and forehead.

Moon’s spines twitched. He had meant the traders’ ships, that the people here could leave the city if the magisters and the other wealthy residents bought the use of them for an evacuation. But that wasn’t what Ardan had heard. Jade was right. It wasn’t a coincidence that the leviathan had moved further out to sea. Ardan is controlling it.

Ardan said, thickly, “Then I’m glad we had this conversation.”

Then the floor dissolved under Moon’s feet, crumbling to dust. He dropped, shot his wings out to stop himself. Air rushed straight up from below and he caught it, played it across his wings to stay aloft. Several of Ardan’s men weren’t so lucky, and flailed as they tumbled down toward a great dark space below, along with fragments of the floor.

Moon couldn’t see what was down there, where the wind came from. The thick stench of the leviathan filled the air. Moon twisted enough to get a look behind him. The balcony had broken into a twisted mass of metal supports, and Stone clung to a post. River and Chime clung to him, and Esom clung to Chime. I’d tell Esom he was right, but I think he already knows, Moon thought, and looked back up at Ardan.

The Magister had gone to his knees, his face turned dull blue-gray by the terrible effort of destroying the floor.

The rush of air, the leviathan’s breathing, Moon thought suddenly. That wind came from the leviathan itself. There was some opening just below them, and in a moment it would— Moon flapped, tried to get out of the draft, shouted, “Stone, get away—”

The air reversed with a terrible suction as the creature inhaled. It dragged Moon down, tangled his wings. The pressure was terrible, irresistible. It dragged the air out of his lungs and made the edges of his vision go black. He flipped over in time to see it yank River and Chime away from their grip on Stone. Stone made a wild grab for them. The suction jerked him off the remnants of the balcony, shattered metal hurtling down after him.

Moon swore helplessly and used every bit of his remaining strength to wrench his wings in. The force of it rolled his body over again, so at least he could see what they were plunging into. He had the terrible feeling he already knew.

All he could see was a great dark space, then his eyes adjusted. It was a crater, a giant black crater in the back of the leviathan, surrounded by a ridge of scaly skin. An air hole, Moon thought, sick with dread, as they dropped helplessly down into it.