Harrowing Echoes: The Sum of Ages, #3

By Benjamin Schwarting

The demon armies have returned, and the world was not prepared to face them.

 

Each bearing a piece of the sacred light, Corin and Olenka have finally found the power to defend their people. But the demon scourge is spreading fast, and there are few places of refuge left in the endless storm. Very soon, there may be no one left to save amid the breathless hordes of infected.

Unless the world can come together.

 

But the stone giants of Shan Zhong are not easily swayed. Now Corin must prove himself to the children of the mountains, a race so ancient that they remember the first yokai calamity…

 

…as well as Vallin's failure to end it.

 

To the south, Olenka races from the safety of the sacred city to rescue a doomed fleet on a sick sea, but help is hard to come by on the blackened tides of a tainted ocean. Should she place her trust in her own finite strength, or in the bloody hands of pirates who claim noble intent?

Either way, the future is filled with the harrowing echoes of the past. 

 

What readers are saying about Harrowing Echoes:

"Benjamin Schwarting continues his engaging coming of age fantasy! A well written story...the characters and world are well fleshed out and interesting. I look forward the next series from Benjamin!" — Nemesis Reviews on Goodreads

• Language: English
• Publisher: Williams & Rose Publishing LLC
• Release date: Jan 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9781952853029

Book preview

PROLOGUE: TRUE FREEDOM

THE DEMON SAT on the palace steps, desperately trying to remember his own name. His body was as cold and still as death, but the darkness writhed within him, bringing him endless vitality and formidable strength.

He had been growing stronger each day, slowly learning to control the power the black blood brought to his flesh. His only limits seemed to be the finite fortitude of his brittle bones. His muscles could fight until they tore and would quickly stitch themselves back together. His lungs never burned for air. Temperature was irrelevant to his frigid skin. His wounds, no matter how deep, never felt even a glimmer of pain…

…but he simply could not remember his name.

What ails you, my son?

The voice spoke within his mind: not with words, but with pure ideas and feelings. Hearing it felt like thinking, like dredging a novel thought from the recesses of his own subconscious. He considered the question. It was more complicated than he cared to admit. It wasn’t just his name he had forgotten.

I don’t know who I am, the demon mumbled.

His voice was grating even to his own ears. It was the metallic sound of atrophied lungs sucking in unneeded air from the greasy, soupy atmosphere. As soon as he said it, he knew he had identified the true problem: who was he? A name was just a word, and words were subsidiary here. He wanted to know who he had once been. He had no memory of where he had come from, no deep understanding of why he was there. Each day he trained, and each night he sat and sleeplessly learned at the foot of his lord’s throne. He exerted himself with pious dedication to the task, but he couldn’t even remember why…

The gentle brush of his master’s bare feet lighted the palace steps behind him. Such strange, flat feet. So different from his own set of load-bearing toes. The demon emperor stopped beside him, his ashen hands gently clasped behind his back as he gazed down at his troubled student. The young demon looked up, staring into the slim, pointed eyes of his lord. They shimmered with violet light, a dark fire that sang to the black blood in his heart. The emperor smiled then, his thin, sooty lips sealed tight over his too-white teeth.

You are my child and my student. What else matters?

The young demon turned away, staring down the silver steps to the glorious courtyard of ebony and chrome. A sea of black vines curled under polished, ivory stones, binding them together like squirming, living cement. Great silver trees of ever-flowing metal waved in the still, heavy air, the tips of their branches illuminated with soft multicolored light that filled the metal walls of the Cosmic Garden with the sparks of a thousand stars. A grey tear leaked from the young demon’s eye, trailing like watered-down ink across his pallid cheek.

His master placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and sat on the steps beside him. The student looked up into his master’s face. Thick, black veins flowered out from the outer points of his eyes, like heavy crow’s feet wrinkles that wrapped around to the back of his shorn scalp. They met at a thick cord of flowing tendrils, like a braid of woven tar. It was unclear whether the coils had been woven out of or into the exposed vertebrae of his neck.

Beautiful boy, it is better not to remember. The past offers you only pain. Look toward the future and rejoice. Do not hang your head in sorrow. Let me guard you from all that would–

Guard! The young demon suddenly looked up and the emperor paused. That idea had triggered the faintest of memories in his hollow mind… guard. The idea meant something to him, or at least it once had. Had he been tasked to guard someone? Had he been a guard of something important? He felt his lord’s disappointment rumble in his brain, and he recoiled from the thought.

I am sorry… he muttered.

The demon emperor considered his penitent subject with concern and compassion. He stood abruptly and gestured out to the grand courtyard of the Cosmic Garden.

Walk with me, my son. I have something to show you.

The emperor stepped down onto the ivory bricks, the sea of black perfectly supporting their weight. The long braid of tar trailed behind him, constantly twisting and swirling around the steps and bricks to stay connected with the mass below. The young demon stood and followed his lord. There was no point disobeying his wishes. His lord gave him freedom to act on his own, but it was conditional. The tethers in his mind were always present, always threatening to be reined in. The young demon knew that freewill was a privilege, one that would be easily revoked should he abuse it.

They walked to a tree at the center of the shimmering plaza. It was a tree of liquid metal: oily spectrums of lavender light played along the ever-flowing streams of its silver bark. The demon emperor extended a grey, boney finger and tapped the tree. At first the fluid surface bulged in, bending away from his touch, but upon contact, a single bead of silver floated out over his hand, suspended by branches of violet static.

The demon emperor smiled and turned to his student.

I brought this back from the first world I liberated. Truly beautiful, but very difficult to control. Perhaps it is time I teach you its mysteries?

He twirled the bead of silver around his finger then flicked it back at the tree. It splashed and rippled into the flowing bark, reforming its gnarled pattern. The demon lord then brought his fingers together and spread them slowly apart. Arcs of purple light shot from his hand to the tree, splitting its surface, stretching the streams of silver to either side. A hidden gem of pale cyan was exposed beneath it. The gem shuddered, rapidly shifting and reforming its icy, crystalline surface. The sight was dazzling and strange, and yet, somehow wonderfully familiar. He had seen a gem just like this once. He remembered a young man there, someone running and fighting…

Corin… the young demon whispered.

The demon emperor jerked his hand back, and the silver tree snapped shut again. Hot displeasure passed from the mind of the master to the mind of the pupil, and the demon lord glared at his student. His braid of black blood was pulsing in irritation, webs of violet static descending in waves down to the ebony sea below their feet. The young demon turned away in shame, but he couldn’t release the idea.

Was that my name? he whispered. Is that why I can remember it?

The demon emperor’s eyes softened, and he gently shook his head. A tide of calming energy swept over the young demon and he relaxed.

No, beautiful boy. That is the name of our enemy.

Enemy? The demon looked up to his master. "Who could fight you, my lord? Who would fight you?"

The dark king turned away from the silver tree and began pacing across the courtyard.

Someone both proud and foolish. He is misguided, my son. Seduced by the ancient lies used to bind down all mortals. Do you remember my teachings on this matter?

The young demon nodded. His master’s wisdom had sunk deep into his heart. It was the doctrine of freedom. Liberation from the tethers of mortality.

He recited the sacred adage: We must trade our freewill for life everlasting. The only true freedom is freedom from death and pain.

His master smiled and placed a tender hand on his back.

Very good, child. This Corin, whom you have remembered, seeks to end all we have worked for. He wishes to place death back on its detestable throne, and to once again enslave our glorious, liberated empire.

The young demon turned away, horror and anger bursting to life within his mind, or perhaps they were bursting into his mind. It was impossible to say what thoughts were his own.

Why would he do that? Who could be so foolish?

His master smiled and stretched his hand across the sooty curtain of distant clouds above them. They parted, exposing the inky sky, and the conflagration of stars beyond.

The ancient lies are as old and powerful as the wretched heavens themselves, my son. I was fooled by them for many years, myself. They are crafty and subtle. You must constantly watch yourself, lest they work their way into your mind. If you relax your faculties, if you do not constantly fight against them, you too will be eclipsed by their foul temptation. Once they truly take root in your mind there is no hope. They will invade your very soul. An insidious disease of deception.

Traitors who embrace these fabrications are lost, my son. Fully and eternally lost. They are beings beyond redemption. They can be afforded no mercy. They are a threat to the cosmos. They are past saving and must be eradicated.

The demon emperor waved his hand again, and the clouds closed back in an unbroken, overcast curtain, like he was spreading dirt over a bed of coals that must be quenched. The young demon turned away, staring across the violet glow smoldering under the sunless horizon. It had become beautiful and familiar to him in the few short weeks he had been here. Beloved even.

He must be stopped, my lord, the young demon said, and all of his former doubts and questions were gone.

Yes, beautiful boy, he must. And you must be the one to stop him.

The young demon looked up, startled by the power and candor of his master’s words.

Me? his metallic voice scraped. Why would you send me?

The demon emperor turned away and began walking back toward the steps of his palace.

Because he is your younger brother.

PART ONE: IN THE MIDST OF DARKNESS

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CHAPTER 1: SAVING SIRENA

OLENKA PEELED OPEN her dry, crusty eyes. She had never felt so exhausted in her life. Not the day she ran away from home. Not during her first night of spine-shattering labor on Daisay’s ship. Not even when she and her crew fought the devil ku jira after their desperate ride to Ka Jiya.

She had never been this tired. Ever.

She also couldn’t seem to get enough to eat. She’d already plowed through the meager rations she had packed herself, even crunching down dry handfuls of uncooked rice. Mari had watched in horror at first, but then gently offered her some of her own supplies. Olenka tried to resist, but her stomach wouldn’t let her. She needed energy, needed to replenish.

The fatigue she felt was more than just hunger; her soul itself was tired. It felt as if she had been up all night trying to memorize lines for a ceremony, like one of those dreadful, childhood days spent in Sant Madee’s chambers when she wasn’t allowed to go play until she’d read a scroll top to bottom and summarized it back with satisfactory detail. It felt like whatever force that kept Olenka’s mind and body moving had been deeply, dangerously depleted.

She would have to be more careful with how much she zapped things in the future.

Olenka sucked in a deep, quivering breath and forced herself to sit up. Her head was swimming, but it felt like it might be getting better. The prick of the rain stinging her frigid cheeks seemed to be helping.

"Finally, you’re awake!" Marikit rushed to her side, helping her up onto one of the benches in the banca frame.

Olenka smacked her parched lips. Her tongue felt thick and fuzzy, like it was coated in algae. She rubbed at her eyes and groaned.

"Ugh… my buwisit head… and stomach… and… She paused, trying to pinpoint the exact source of her pain. It was a futile effort. And everything else! Tattered sails, how long was I out, Mari?"

Marikit smirked. A while. It’s nearly dark. You can’t really tell with the storm, though… She stared up at the cloud cover. It’s strange… I’ve never seen a sky like this before, have you? She glanced around nervously and then shivered, sending a spray of droplets from her finely braided locks. "Clouds this dark and thick should be pounding us with rain, like during monsoon, you know? But they’re not. They’re just… there. And this rain isn’t much more than a heavy mist, really." Mari waved her webbed hand through the gloom.

Olenka cracked her neck and twisted her back in a series of snaps, pointedly ignoring Mari’s distressing observations. Mari was right, of course, but under the weight of her groaning stomach, Olenka just couldn’t find the energy to care about the weather. They could have been reeling along the edge of a typhoon, and Olenka would have been trying to snag fresh fish from the cresting waves.

Where are we? Olenka whispered. Her dry throat caught and scratched as she spoke.

Mari noticed the sound and handed her a canteen. We just passed Sotay a moment ago.

Olenka froze mid-swig. We did? You didn’t bring us too close, did you?

"No, Mari grumped with an annoyed sigh. I stayed out away from the reef, just like you told me to, but…"

"But what, Mari?"

Marikit frowned into the distant haze. But Sotay didn’t look abandoned, Kay Kay. I could still see the lights.

The lights? Olenka asked, the dread in her voice wavering in confusion.

Mari nodded. Yeah, from all the shops, you know?

Olenka swallowed and rubbed at her throbbing temple. There shouldn’t be any lights.

Marikit shrugged. Well, there were plenty. You can probably still see them for yourself.

That doesn’t make any sense… Olenka muttered. "The wharf was abandoned. Didn’t everyone flee upriver? Or down to Lunsod sa Dagat?"

Yeah, that’s what I thought the monks said, Marikit nodded, but Sotay looked just as crowded as ever. I even thought of docking to get you some help.

Olenka blinked a few times and then stepped up to the sail, gazing out across the grey horizon. She could see the orange blur of the sun setting off to the west and, just as Mari had said, the dim lights of Sotay glistened to the southeast. She glared stubbornly at them for a while before turning away. Straight ahead she could barely spy the outline of a single, jagged island taking shape in the gloom.

The sight of it spurred Olenka’s memory, and her vision with Daisay flashed through her mind.

There, Olenka said, pointing. Pull hard to starboard. Get us inside that island.

Why? You see something? Mari asked, pulling the tiller to swing the sail.

Not yet, Olenka explained, but we will.

* * *

They heard the ships before they saw them. The deep boom of the Ka Jiyan metal barge chugged through the darkness, sending a translucent plume of dark smoke against an even darker sky. Olenka turned back to get Mari’s attention, but the sirena was already at her side. Olenka blinked in surprise. Her senses must have been dimmer than she’d realized.

Should we hail them? Mari asked.

Yeah, I think so. Olenka rubbed at her puffy eyelids, listening to Marikit slip away. She lit the ship’s lantern and waved it to the approaching barge, the hot glass sizzling against the speckling mist and rain. Within moments, the metal barge sounded a bell in response, and Olenka heard the engine in its belly strain as the ship slowed. The sound boomed through the air and water around them, like the guttural cry of great whales. There were two more boats behind the iron ship coming into view, both squat wooden cargo barges with wide, short sails. One almost seemed familiar to Olenka… but, then again, how different did any barge look from another, really?

"Stay put!" a frantic voice called from the distant deck.

Olenka glanced to Mari and sighed. She wasn’t exactly in a dealing-with-stupid-people kind of mood at the moment. Not that she ever was, but this was an especially bad time to be barking orders at her. At that thought, a blue spark jumped between her fingertips.

Mari stiffened beside her, but pretended not to notice.

The metal barge drifted closer and Olenka saw a collection of lanterns building on the gunwale, casting the shadows of a nervous, shuffling crowd.

"Who are you? Speak quickly!" the voice cried again.

It sounded scared…

And young…

And male…

A dangerous combination if there ever was one.

Sirena from the holy city! Olenka called. We’re here to escort your ships to safety!

The rush of voices that followed was like wind rustling the mangroves. Fifteen boys had all started babbling at once, pushing and pointing and insulting. It was about as organized as a flock of gulls fighting over a pail of chum. Olenka exhaled slowly, trying to find even a glimmer of patience within her calloused, exhausted heart.

"Go get the master!" one of the boys finally cried. The metal ship was drifting ever closer, and Olenka could now see the outline of all the frantic faces onboard. She recognized a few as some of the many kataw apprentices from Ka Jiya. The one giving orders turned back to glare down at her.

"Who sent you? the boy demanded. How’d you know we were coming?"

Olenka sighed and rubbed at her temples. Big metal ship like this? Hard to miss, wouldn’t you say?

"She’s lying!" another boy hissed from behind.

We can hear you, you know, Olenka called back.

The deck was silent for a moment, but then the boy in front seemed to remember he was supposed to be in charge. He glanced nervously at the shrinking space between the ships and then flailed around to the crowd behind him. Go grab some shells! he snapped.

Tiny fins obediently scurried off out of sight.

"Shells?" Olenka whispered to Mari. What in the crushing depths would they need shells for? Did they have cluster winkle lamps or something?

The errand boy returned, and Olenka heard the group fumbling to steady the unfamiliar equipment and their cracking voices.

"Alright! the lead boy spat, lifting his fist triumphantly. You have until the count of ten to tell us how you really found us! One! Two!"

"Ki-i-id… Olenka groaned. Can you please spare us the–"

Um, Kay Kay? Mari interrupted. "Is that a whu yao shell?"

Olenka froze and glanced up at the boy’s fist. Sure enough, she recognized the distinct silhouette of a clamped iron sphere.

"Wait, wait, wait, spill the wind there, puddle pup! Olenka held up her hands. You need to be careful with that uzai thing. She spun back to Mari. It’s not lit yet, is it?"

"We can hear you too!" a bratty voice mocked from the deck.

The lead boy drifted the wick closer to one of the mounted pole lanterns.

"Three! Four! Five!"

"Black tides of Naraka, kid! Will you just take it easy? Olenka shouted. We already told you everything! Why else would we be here?"

Prove you’re not infected! The boy shouted. "Burn your hand!"

Burn my… Olenka blinked as her mind fumbled to process the absolute lunacy of that request. She turned to Mari. "Burn our buwisit hands? Is he serious?"

He sounds pretty serious, Mari lamented.

Olenka rolled her eyes back up to the barge’s deck and groaned. "Kid, listen. I’ve had a really long day trying to get here to save your sorry fins, and the last thing I need is a burnt hand."

"Six! Seven!"

Olenka rubbed her eyes and sighed. Can’t we just kill him, Mari? You got a spear handy? I think mine’s back–

"Light it!" the boy shouted. Olenka glanced up in horror as she watched the foolish kataw youth lean the shell’s laced wick through the glass door of the lantern. His hand was trembling but determined, the flame drifting closer and closer to–

"That is quite enough!"

The boys all jumped and withdrew as the clang of metal on metal thumped its way across the iron deck.

Master Taro, sir! the lead boy stammered. I was just–

"Just holding a live flame to a bomb! And on my ship, of all places!" The weathered kataw swung his metal cane, cracking the boy across the chest. He coughed and doubled over as the master blacksmith yanked the whu yao shell from his hands.

"Foolish, foolish, foolish. I fall asleep for a few hours and this is how my sorry school handles things?" Master Taro rubbed at his bald head, stretching the dim lines of the faded tattoo over his ear.

But, Master, another boy offered, what if they’re infected?

"Infected? He swung his metal cane again. The boy barely sidestepped the old man’s blow. You empty-shelled imbeciles! Do you not see who that is down there? Master Taro waved his arm to someone farther back on deck. Bring a ladder over here! And praise the Silver River while you’re at it, you damp cinders. Our saving sirena have found us once again."

Olenka grinned and glanced to Marikit. Mari exhaled and trembled. She looked like all she wanted in the whole world was to sit down.

Are you alright down there, sisters? Taro called, leaning over the gunwale.

As much as we can be, Master, considering what you’re… well… Olenka faked a cough to give her sharp tongue some distraction. The boys had probably been sufficiently rebuked.

A ladder clanked down against the side of the ship. It looked like a typical rope ladder, but it was made of iron bars and chains instead of bamboo poles and rope. The sirena tossed a mooring line up onto the barge’s deck and watched a handful of humbled boys rush to go tie it off for them. Olenka allowed herself a satisfied chuckle as she pulled her weary limbs up the wobbling steps.

Master Taro was there to greet them, grumbling half-coherent statements of praise and apology as he stooped down to help them up over the gunwale. He bent down toward the ladder a third time but paused in confusion.

He glanced away from their banca. "Just the two of you?"

His words struck Olenka harder than she would have guessed. She adjusted her girdle and cleared her throat. Just us today.

Master Taro kept his features tight and stolid, all but a nervous lick at the chapped corner of his mouth.

Well, he whispered, even just the two of you are worth forty of my rabble here. He swung his metal cane at the nearest victim. The kataw youth barely scurried out of reach in time. Rust and slag! The lot of them! Here, go put this back with the others.

Master Taro tossed the whu yao shell at the nearest apprentice who fumbled but managed to clutch the bomb against his chest.

Come, Taro waved toward the ship’s iron cabin, let’s get you two out of the rain, eh? You’ve gone so blue I can barely see your kudori.

* * *

The metal barge was the most uncomfortable, unnatural, unaccommodating place Olenka had ever been, but at least it was warm. If she remembered correctly, the great belly of the iron ship churned with coal fire that heated steam that turned buwisit gears that made a buwisit turbine spin, or some manner of kataw nonsense like that. It didn’t really matter to Olenka. What did matter was that they were willing to part with a few mouthfuls of their food.

A scared apprentice had offered Olenka a bowl of coconut rice porridge adorned with charred slivers of roasted bamboo. Olenka had to use every last ounce of her self-control to not dive at it like a frenzied shark. Even still, she nearly took the kid’s hand off in the process. She crouched down in the middle of the iron floor and began to shovel the grey slop down her throat. It was bland, lumpy, and slimy, but that couldn’t have mattered less.

Master Taro grunted at the savage sight, but not in judgment. I take it the holy city is not doing so well?

Olenka glanced up, picking a piece of bamboo from her molars, her fuzzy mind struggling to make sense of his words.

Oh! No, no, no, Mari said quickly. The city is still pretty well stocked. She glanced nervously down at Olenka. "She’s just been a little… out of sorts today."

Olenka nodded as their conversation suddenly clicked in her head.

Even with all the refugees, Olenka gargled, swallowed, and prepared another bite, the city should have enough stores to last a month or two. She pushed another handful of slop into her cheeks, sucking every gooey grain from her fingers. At least that’s what the monks claim.

Master Taro’s nervous tongue went back to the corner of his lips. He swiveled around and plopped down onto a metal bench welded along the wall behind him. He leaned his iron cane against his lap and smoothed out the folds in his leather apron.

Well, at least that’s something. Better news than these boys have had in… He chuckled bitterly to himself. Well, since you three left us, actually.

Olenka was trying very hard to pay attention, but the edible slime was simply too distracting. She kept shoveling.

Seems we’ve just been moving from one tragedy to the next… he lamented.

Olenka thought about licking the bowl but settled on dragging her finger along its surface instead. She slurped the slime off her knuckles like a bandikan suckerfish.

The old man rubbed his temple and patted his knee. But maybe things will be better in Sotay, huh? Can’t possibly be worse than home.

The words struck something deep in Olenka, something more powerful than her hunger. It was the same part of her mind that had warned her not to complete the Sacrament of Light, the same part that had recognized the shape of the island they had just passed, the same part that had told her not to disturb the yokai ray in the cavern.

Sotay? she muttered, managing to not lick her fingers while she spoke.

Taro nodded. We need to refuel. This rusty bucket of ours is safe, but it sure eats up coal… We’re not too far off, are we?

Too far? Olenka shook her head. "You can’t be too far. We need to steer as far from the wharf and reef as we can! Sotay is abandoned, Master. Sotay is dangerous."

Abandoned? Master Taro sniffed his disdain. What chum are you spouting, little sister? We’ve been watching the lights for half the day already!

Olenka couldn’t gather her thoughts. It was like trying to see through murky water. She knew what she was trying to say, what she was trying to convince the master of, but she just couldn’t find the words to say it. Every time she spied the thought’s sunken outline, a curtain of mental flotsam swirled it out of sight. What was wrong with her head? Had the lightning done this?

"We can’t go to Sotay, Olenka managed through her muddled thoughts. You just have to trust me. Set a course straight for Lunsod sa Dagat."

The old man looked flustered and skeptical, but mostly he looked confused. I wish we could, little sister, but we barely have enough coal to get us to the wharf. We’ll never make it to–

"Then swim, Olenka blurted. Jump ship. Board one of the sail barges flanking you. Just don’t dock in Sotay!"

Master Taro glanced up and then away from Olenka’s burning gaze. Olenka tilted her head in confusion and then glanced over her shoulders. A crowd of young kataw had gathered behind her, staring anxiously at their master.

Taro cocked an eyebrow to the boys. Is there a reason you’re all gawking at us like hungry gulls?

The boy in front fidgeted, glancing briefly to the crowd behind him. We were just waiting for… instructions, sir.

Instructions? Master Taro shouted. I’ve given you all the instructions you could possibly need! Mind the fires and steer the ship! Now, get back to your posts and take us to the wharf!

"No! Olenka cried. Her bowl clattered to the iron floor as she stood. Veer west. Take us straight to the holy city! You’ll be safe there."

Master Taro slammed the tip of his cane down to the floor. The bright echo was deafening in the cramped, metal space. "Salt rust and bitter fumes! What has gotten into your waterlogged head, sister? I’ve already told you, we won’t make it to the holy city. Not unless we refuel in Sotay first."

"And you won’t make it through the night if you insist on sailing this ship into a trap!" Olenka spat the last word, letting it clang against the echoing walls.

Trap? Master Taro adjusted his footing, leaning back against his cane. What are you talking about?

Sotay is a trap. She stated bluntly. If we go there, none of you will make it out.

The room was silent.

A bead of sweat was building on Olenka’s brow. It tumbled down her cheek and pattered to the metal floor, but still no one spoke. Master Taro looked away, the tip of his tongue frantically massaging the chapped corner of his mouth, his thumb polishing a streak into his iron cane.

Sir? the young kataw apprentice asked from the doorway. Should we cut the engine?

No, Taro said flatly. Keep the engine hot but douse the lamps. And go call the other captains. He paused, and the boy twitched. Master Taro raised an eyebrow and then bellowed, "Go!"

The young man scurried backward, and the crowd of boys broke off in a dozen different directions, banging and bumping as they went.

Master Taro stepped forward to Olenka. His eyes showed age and pain and more than a modest amount of fear.

No more loose rigging, Taro demanded. No more charting on a starless night. How do you know all this? Tell me the truth, little sister. His voice was stern, but not unkind. Olenka could respect that. It sounded like her own.

I can’t explain it in words you will believe, Olenka admitted, "but I know the wharf is dangerous. You just need to trust me. Like you did on Ka Jiya."

Master Taro shook his head. Of course, I trust you, sister. And of course, it will be dangerous! Every blackened, buwisit league of the Great Sea is dangerous these days! He paused, his narrowing eyes focusing on Olenka’s. "But you didn’t say dangerous. You said it was a trap."

Did I? Olenka scoffed and rolled her eyes to sell the bluff. The fog in her mind was starting to clear, thanks to the food, but that meant her tongue was all the more venomous. They didn’t have time to debate this, not while the engine was still chugging them toward their doom. She needed a lie. A good lie. Olenka opened her mouth to respond and–

Pa Naing told her, Mari whispered.

Olenka exhaled slowly. Mari, please…

Master Taro chuckled at first, but then he scowled. "Oh? Pa Naing told her? He glanced back to Olenka. What is this chum?"

It’s true, Marikit pressed. Olenka is the new Sant now. She consulted Pa Naing and it told her you were coming. Pa Naing warned her that you would be in danger. Mari huffed and slumped down onto a bench. "But the real mystery is how I let her talk me into coming too! Sneaky, uzai eel…"

"You wanted to come!" Olenka hissed, smacking her forehead with the ball of her palm.

As if! Mari went to work pulling apart and reassembling a frayed braid over her left ear. You just didn’t want to be lonely out here. Admit it! You tricked me into coming with you just because you can’t bear the possibility of having no one to talk to.

Olenka dug her nails into her forehead and shook her head as she groaned. Mari… she muttered through her fingers. "Have you met me? I’d do anything for a buwisit scrap of silence!"

Oh, as if! Marikit shouted. Do you remember whe–

"Not that all of this isn’t deeply intriguing, Taro barked over Mari’s rebuttal, but can one of you squawking gulls please explain what you mean? How could Pa Naing–"

Look, old man, Olenka snapped, I don’t exactly understand it all myself, but I’m done letting people get hurt, alright? She glared at Master Taro. Something inside her had cracked a little. She had built a wall around her guilt, hiding it under a barrage of distracting, frustrating tasks. She realized then that it had all been a kind of penance, a way of whipping herself on the inside for all the terrible things she’d let happen during the Sacrament of Light. She had beaten her soul bloody over the past few weeks…

…and all the while Diwala lay wheezing and dying on her bed.

People get hurt when I don’t listen. Olenka stared at her webbed feet as she spoke. "I try to protect them myself, but I can’t. Not if I ignore the warnings I’m given. She looked up. So, I’m asking you again. Please, steer this buwisit ship away from Sotay while you still can. Go as far as you can on the fuel you have, and we’ll figure something else out along the way. Trust me."

Master Taro rubbed at his wrinkled chin, the receded webbing of his fingers obscured by the mammoth scars and callouses across his knuckles. Eventually he sighed and slapped his hands over the tip of his cane.

I do trust you, sister.

The sound of fins padding through the corridor behind them drew his attention.

But it’s just not that simple, he continued. "You see, I’m not the only one you have to convince."

Olenka turned in time to see a tall, slender sirena step through the doorway. Her leather vest and white shirt were worn and torn and faded since she’d seen them last, but there was no mistaking the wicked gleam flickering in her dark eyes and across the stamped gold of her nose ring.

Olenka stiffened, her hand instantly gripping the silver handle of her knife.

"Omi?"

CHAPTER 2: THE CAPTAINS

FIVE BLADES WERE all drawn at once. Two of them were Olenka’s. The clamor was loud and quick, leaving several startled shouts bouncing around the metal walls in its wake, but everything quickly went very tense and very still.

My, my, Omi cooed, you little minnows braved your way across this blackened sea? Just for me? I’m moved.

"You were dead, Olenka pressed her words through clenched teeth, like she was trying to strain out the fear, leaving nothing but her fury to slip through the baleen. Drowned under that buwisit bell."

Omi scoffed. Hardly. Some of us can hold our breath, little sister. She eased back a step, bringing Hiroki’s gnarled frame into the lamplight. The scarred siokoy said nothing, but his blade was shifting eagerly in his grip. The lightning in Olenka’s biceps was building to frightening levels. She felt like a wave about to break against the rocks.

"What in the crushing depths do you think you all are doing?" Taro shouted, banging his metal cane against the floor. Olenka glanced his way for a moment, but instantly shot her eyes back to Hiroki.

"You have been dealing with kaizo, Master," Olenka stated. The word felt bitterly insufficient to explain the severity of the situation. These were more than mere pirates. These were the killers who had speared Daisay, the traitors who had tried to drown them, and the sharks who had tortured Mari.

They were more yokai than any devil fish out on the reef.

Kaizo? Taro muttered. He rubbed at his forehead and turned to Omi. Captain? What is she talking about?

Omi chuckled and slid her knife back into its sheath. Olenka’s breath caught in her throat as she gawked, trying to guess what game Omi was playing.

You know, the sirena captain whispered to Taro, "not all of us have the luxury of choosing whatever dainty fate floats our way and catches our eye. She folded her arms tight across her chest, emphasizing the toned cords of muscle in her shoulders. Some of us have to scrape by with whatever the tide plops in our sand."

Spare us, Olenka spat. You murdered Daisay and her crew, all for a box of jewelry.

And you murdered half my crew and dropped a diving bell on my head. Omi’s words were quick and sharp, but she said them with a terrible smirk. Perhaps we are at balance?

Olenka exhaled slowly, her eyes dancing quickly over the two kaizo. Why are you eels even here?

Because they helped us, Master Taro murmured. Olenka spun around to the old man, but kept her ears and knives pointed at the kaizo.

What? she gasped. "They helped you?"

Taro nodded. We left for the Bharatian Peninsula the night you killed the ku jira. We had very little food and no idea what we were up against. Captain Omi had been gathering supplies and survivors on her barge. She warned us about the plague.

Plague? Olenka scowled. You mean the devil fish?

It’s not just fish, you know. Omi’s voice was cold and smooth. Olenka glared at her beautiful, wretched, impassive face. "Not that any of you city fish care, but the parasite has left the sea. It’s moved onto the land, and now all of the northern shores are filled with sick, angry corpses that don’t seem to realize they’re dead."

Omi took a deep breath that Olenka was tempted to interpret as sorrow. But that was silly. Sharks didn’t feel sorrow. Sharks didn’t feel regret. Disappointment? Maybe. But only for not getting to a frenzy fast enough to gorge themselves sick.

And then Hiroki did something that shook Olenka all the way down to the tips of her webbed toes.

He stepped forward, sheathed his blade, and placed a comforting hand on Omi’s shoulder. She shuddered a bit and then slipped her hand up over his.

Everything is gone, he muttered. The villages, the docks, the rice paddies, our families… He trailed off, letting his words ripple through the gurgling flap of his filleted cheek. All sick. All dead.

Dead? Marikit murmured. But I thought you said they were infected.

There is no difference. Omi whispered. "The Bantay Tubig back home are no longer themselves. They have been replaced by something else. Something cold and sick and vicious. Not quite alive, and yet maddeningly hard to kill. Kind of like your uzai crew." Omi winked at them, and Olenka nearly plunged her knife into her chest.

They have been rescuing survivors for over a week, Taro offered, seeing Olenka’s tension rise. He gave her a stern look and then cleared his throat. Now, I have no idea what terrible past binds you four, but perhaps the tragedy at hand might allow us some common ground?

Olenka didn’t move, but her eyes shot around to everyone’s faces. Hiroki’s hard eyes looked cold and dark and listless, like a shark that couldn’t believe it wasn’t hungry. Mari’s face was white as a wisp of summer cloud, anxiously waiting for the cue to attack. Master Taro didn’t look nervous, but he did look pained. A broken old man who had let too