Cloudfyre Falling - a dark fairy tale (65 page)

‘It looks ghastly,’ Gargaron
said. ‘What be it?’

‘A whale horn,’ Locke said as
though it were quite obvious.

‘To control whales?’ Gargaron
asked, confused.

‘To ward them off,’ Locke said,
laughing. ‘Honestly, I thought you claimed to have sailed.’

‘I were but a wee lad. Though,
what need have we of a whale horn?’

‘Well, obviously this
particular one be not for whales,’ Locke said. ‘I would wager it be
for such as those Leviathans that attacked us.’ And here he looked
about for a spot where it might be housed.

‘There?’ Melai said pointing.
All eyes turned to a broken prong on the mast just below the lower
hem of the mainsail.

Locke skittered over on his
crabs legs for a closer look, craning his neck. ‘Explains why it
were removed. It had been in for repairs. All we need do is find
some way to rig it back in place.’

This task Gargaron took on
himself, tying the whale horn there with ropes; he were the only
one who stood tall enough to reach the area with ease. Once done he
stood back, surveying his work. ‘How does it work then?’ he asked
Locke.

Locke shrugged his shoulders
and replied, ‘Don’t know. I never sailed ships.’

3

Its method became apparent
however some two hours after nightfall. The root imps, Gesha and
Oosha, were again at their posts, one playing helmsman, the other
in crow’s-nest. Gargaron were pacing the deck, keeping a lookout in
the growing dark for any threatening shadows out to sea. He had
also been searching for the Cat’s Eyes star constellation. He had
just spotted its emergence when he heard a most peculiar sound. A
peculiar mewling sound from somewhere on the vessel. He turned
about, looking first at Melai who were seated near the helm, then
at Locke who too wore a frown on his face.

‘You hear that?’ Locke asked,
looking at Melai and then at Gargaron.

It grew steadily louder, almost
to a deep moan. The imp in the crow’s nest began making a
chittering noise, pointing at something out to sea, alerting the
imp at the wheel who now pulled the ship toward the northwest.
Gargaron strode to starboard. And saw it. A dark shadow maybe a
hundred feet off their bow. He were about to announce it as another
scar when it dipped and vanished below the grass waves and when it
surfaced again Gargaron saw in the growing moonlight the glistening
of eyes and the glow of fangs.

‘
Leviathan!
’ he called.
‘
Brace yourselves
.’ He dashed to mid deck where Hawkmoth
were still unconscious on his bedroll. Gargaron secured him to a
mooring line and the keening sound lifted in intensity. Kneeling
there Gargaron now turned and gazed up at the whale horn. He saw
that part of it had come to life: the skull with its mouth being
pulled open now bore the aura of some ghostly spirit and from this
emanated a howl so piercing, so haunting, that it chilled the
giant’s blood.

Laughter from Locke somehow
broke through the noise and he heard the crabman yell, ‘
Ha, our
Leviathan friend turns its little tail! Come and see!
’

Gargaron, gripping his great
sword, ran back to the starboard bow and there he saw it, the
Leviathan twisting about the grass waves in the moonlight, turning
over and over as if it found the whale horn too torturous to
behold. And soon off it slithered, retreating and diving down into
the depths.

4

The islands they had seen were
long behind them and Gargaron were afraid they had been going in
circles. None of them knew how to operate the sextant but if the
compass were in sound operating order then their carrack were held
always on a northways heading. At night, the position of the Cat’s
Eyes, the burning and ever watchful red stars that were always in
the northsky, confirmed their direction.

A far more pressing matter had
arisen however. They had begun to run low on their provisions. ‘And
naught have we anything with which to fish,’ Gargaron had said. To
which Locke were quick to add, ‘if there were but fish to fish, of
course.’

The lack of any fresh water were
also becoming a concern. They were down to but Gargaron’s gourd. As
if in response to their prayers the sky grew dark with rain clouds
and a gusty storm blew up, and the sea grew choppy and thunderous
showers set in for almost two days. Gargaron, Melai and Locke
placed tubs and jars found below decks, catching as much of the
deluge as they could. Then there were naught to be done but wait
out the storm, huddled there above decks, navigating via the
compass housed dry within the binnacle. Gargaron told Melai and
Locke to head below decks and out of the elements, but Locke smiled
for the first time since the loss of Zebra and embraced the
torrents. Melai fetched blankets from the cabins below (she didn’t
wish to be below decks on her own) and all three helped stitch them
together so that Gargaron might be covered while the storm
lasted.

5

Hawkmoth did not awaken until
mid-morning of their fifth day at sea. When consciousness returned,
he opened his eyes and looked about. He saw he were lying on the
sundrenched deck of the carrack. He knew not why, but he felt a
surge of peculiar relief. The scar had not swallowed them. They
were safely sailing upon the grass ocean. But there were no-one
else about. No giant, no nymph, no crabman. None but his Eve
standing before him on the decks of this empty ship.

She smiled at him sadly. She knelt
at his side and took his hand. ‘My dear Hawk,’ she said. ‘How far I
have come to find you.’

Hawkmoth blinked. ‘Eve, wh-what
are you doing here? How did you get here?’

‘
Hush, it matters not. But you
must listen. The enchantment around our home has withered and
failed. All is perished. I come… to say goodbye.’

‘
No, Eve, this cannot
be.’

‘
Hawk, dear, it is. Thank you for
finding me all those years ago. Thank you for saving me. Thank you
for showing me what it is to be loved.’ She reached out and touched
his face.

His eyes shot open. He sat up and
looked about. He spied Gargaron at the helm, and Locke and Melai
near the prow gazing northways from their position. All were too
keenly watching something ahead of the ship to have noticed
Hawkmoth’s waking.

He looked about, but saw no Eve.
Yet she had been here, presently. He were certain.

6

Hawkmoth pulled himself to his
feet, still expecting to spy his witch wife somewhere on the
carrack. ‘Gargaron, is Eve amongst us?’

Gargaron started slightly at the
voice. He looked around at the sorcerer, a corpse risen from death
it seemed. ‘Glad to see you have come around at last.’

‘
Is… is Eve here?’

Gargaron looked confused. ‘Eve?
No. Why would she be here?’

Hawkmoth
swallowed and drew in a long breath and rubbed his face in his
palms. ‘Ignore me. It were but a dream.’ He slumped back to the
deck once more, leaning there up against the bulwark.
Or a nightmare
, he
thought gravely.

Melai and Locke turned at the
sound of voices. Seeing Hawkmoth awake they started
over.

‘
Tell me, did we avoid the scar?’
Hawkmoth croaked as if the event had only just
transpired.

‘
Which scar do you mean exactly?’
Gargaron asked.

‘
The scar…’ Hawkmoth frowned.
’Where you toppled ov…’

Gargaron eyed him closely.
‘Toppled overboard? That scar be five days gone. We have had to
avoid many since. Not to mention Leviathan beasts. And
storms.’

‘
Leviathans?’

‘
Aye, my little Zebra did much to
defend our first attack,’ Locke said as he neared the sorcerer.
‘Alas, she has left us.’

Hawkmoth felt most confounded.
‘Zebra?’

‘
Aye. She were a hero,’ Gargaron
said.

‘
Oh, I am sorry Locke.’

‘
Be not. For I prefer to believe
she has not perished but enjoying herself at the bottom of this
sea, stirring up its beasties.’

‘
Aye, those are fine thoughts.’ He
drew in a long breath and rubbed his neck. ‘How long have I been
gone?’

‘
Five days,’ Gargaron
said.

‘
Five days?’ It were not
possible.

‘
Aye,’ Gargaron confirmed. ‘You
have slept through much on this voyage.’

‘
How have you navigated these
seas?’

‘
Compass by day, stars by night,’
Melai told him. ‘A whale horn to scare off the sea monsters. Oh,
and your little imps to alert us to sea scars. I stole the idea
from your thoughts.’

Hawkmoth shook his head,
thoughtfully. ‘I recall none of this, it would seem. Though, sounds
as if you have all been quite resourceful.’ He eyed Gargaron for a
while. ‘How many troughs and Leviathans have you
encountered?’

‘
Many,’ Melai told him.

‘
Boom shakes?’

Gargaron shrugged. ‘None,
surprisingly.’

‘
Most strange,’ Hawkmoth said.
‘And I see you stand before me, giant, lest you be some apparition
thrown out by some jaded part of my mind.’

Gargaron considered the sorcerer’s
words. ‘I suspect your temporal sorcery be the cause of my
salvation. If so I give you my thanks.’

Hawkmoth stared long at the giant.
He reached his hand to the small of his back and felt layers of
stone covering him from his hip to his shoulder. ‘I have little
recollection,’ he said softly. ‘But whatever I did, I am glad it
were not in vain.’ He took in a prolonged breath, filling his
chest, feeling the pain at the rear of his ribs where there were no
give anymore in the flesh about his spine. ‘So where are we? Have
we made no headway?’

Gargaron pointed. ‘See for
yourself. Perhaps you might tell us if that be the land we
seek?’

Hawkmoth stood, this time with
Melai’s aid. Unsteady on his feet, he surveyed the way forward. He
felt a tad giddy. But he spied a large landmass on the horizon to
the north. Running his eyes along its distant shore, eyeing its
towering inland trees, he knew here from his text books that this
were Vol Mothaak at last.

1

THERE were no moorings. That much
became apparent. No jetties, nor pier, just wild, uninhabited
coastline for as far as they could see.

‘
Do we seek one then?’ Locke put
to them all. ‘A jetty.’

‘
Or do we sail until we catch
first sight of this tower?’ Gargaron suggested.

Hawkmoth knew not
why, but he felt somehow that this strange land had no piers nor
jetties. He somehow knew that this were as wild a place as any he’d
ever visited. And somehow more ancient than anywhere on the Vale;
he had never felt about anything such a sense of age as he did as
they sailed toward this unchartered coast; older too than the cave
paintings he had seen in
Dorubudur
. Though something about it
were odd, unnatural. There seemed a peculiar precision to the
dimensions of the coastline. As if it held a perfect, unbroken, and
unwavering curve. Were he floating high above in one of his
zeppelins, he wondered, would Vol Mothaak look a perfect circle? He
could not shake the idea that the land before them had been carved
by intelligent hands.

‘
We head straight for shore,’
Hawkmoth told them, ‘I feel there be no place on this land to moor
a ship. And I feel this tower we seek be located at island’s
central point and not visible from the coast. Thus we should simply
head for land and forge a pathway inland.’

2

The shoreline were raised up from
the Grass Sea so that when they met land they did so shunting the
starboard side up against the grassy bank and grabbing hold of
strange trees overhanging the whispering waves to hold the carrack
in place. Locke and Hawkmoth scrambled ashore with mooring ropes,
securing them to hefty tree trunks. Once done Gargaron left the
helm and jumped ashore, offering to carry Melai with him. She
insisted on flying though, and it felt lovely to stretch her wings
again and not be dragged so heavily downward as had been the
peculiar influence of the grass ocean. But Gargaron stuck as close
as he could to her lest the Grass Sea happened to drag her back one
last time into its ungodly waves.

Still, she flew freely,
unhindered, it seemed. And before they turned their back on the
carrack entirely Hawkmoth surveyed it. Looking one last time for
Eve.

‘
What be it?’ Gargaron asked
him.

Hawkmoth shook his head. ‘Nothing, giant. It
be nothing.’

3

The land before them sloped
downwards. It felt to Hawkmoth that he and his companions stood on
the high rim of some amphitheatre. At its base there ran a looming
iron fence that followed the island’s curvature eastways and
westways. There were what looked to be gates interspersed at
regular intervals along it.

From their vantage point, Hawkmoth
and his group stood elevated above the rim of the fence. Beyond,
they could see rugged, shallow bushland and stunted trees. And far
off on the horizon lay the island’s distant interior, shimmering in
a heat haze.

‘
If there be none who live here,
and none who have ever stepped here,’ asked Melai, ‘then why are
there gates?’