The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3) (56 page)

With a menacing boom, and much to Leopold’s disbelief and dismay, the tower began to sink. It slid away, disappearing into the sea at an astonishing rate, its massive carved decorations vanishing one after another beneath the waves.

‘What’s happening?’ Jessicah cried out with alarm.

‘I don’t know,’ Leopold replied. ‘But I think we’d better hold on.’

The column continued to descend, thundering into the sea, already a quarter of its height diminished. The ocean shuddered and the waves were thrown to chaos, rushing every which way, colliding together and slapping themselves apart.

Leopold dreaded what would happen next, for he feared what might occur when the pinnacle vanished altogether. He remembered the wall of water that had engulfed Cintar.

So near, they were at its mercy. There was nothing they could do except run to the back of the ship and watch on as the last of its height disappeared, swallowed into the sea. When the flattened stone top vanished there was no surge of water or mighty wave. It was worse than that. The citadel continued its descent, leaving a vacant space behind it the size of an island, and into that the ocean began to plunge.

The pillar of stone had left an abysmal gulf in its wake, as wide as fifteen Farstrides, and the sea was roaring into it, like water spiralling down a drain hole, gathering speed as it churned and twirled, foaming white.

‘Oh dear,’ Leopold said.

‘What is that?’ Jessicah asked anxiously.

‘Trouble,’ was all Leopold could reply. ‘Where is that damn magician when we need him?’ he uttered under his breath.

Their ship lost speed. The water was dragging them towards the hole faster than the wind was blowing them. The sudden disappearance of the stone must have also upset the sky, for the clouds had been thrown into turmoil and the wind was rising to a gale.

‘Grab an axe!’ Leopold told her, picking one up from a nearby bracket, and he ran.

She followed him, all the way back to the main deck, where he readied by one of the mast poles. Driving rain fell and the wind squalled.

‘What are we doing?’ she yelled, already dripping with water and holding her axe by her shoulder, not even sure what she was going to chop.

‘We’ve got to bring the stern around quickly or we’re going straight into that hole. We drop the mainsails and leave the forward jibs intact. The drag should shift us around.’

‘I thought you said sudden changes might tear the ship apart?’

‘Do you have a better idea?’ he shouted back to her, for the thundering noises of the whirlpool and the rising roar of the wind was making it all the harder to hear.

He lifted his axe above his head and brought it down hard against the deck, cutting through the thick rope that a score of frozen crew were holding. One side of the lowest squares of cloth fell. The men holding the rope fell backwards onto the decking, like figurines tipped over, the rope still threaded through their hands. Thankfully they did not shatter or break as Leopold had feared.

He ran to the other side of the deck, where another team was in the midst of pulling their rope. He cut that one and the teamsters also toppled. The sail now dropped completely limp. Looking up, that was one sail of the six on that mast alone. He swallowed hard. There was not much time.

Jessicah followed him closely. ‘Which ones should I cut?’

He looked to her bleakly, for she was holding the axe-head the wrong way around, pointed towards herself. She followed his gaze and realised her error, quickly righting the head to be away from her.

‘Give me that.’ He took her axe and buried its head into the deck with one sound swing of his arm. ‘Remember the rudder mechanism?’ She nodded fiercely. ‘Go find it again and spin it all the way until it doesn’t stop. The same way I turned it. Can you do that?’

‘Of course!’ she told him. ‘I can use an axe you know!’

‘It’s not that,’ he told her. ‘I can just do it faster alone. And I need that rudder turned all the way.’

‘What do I do after that?’ she asked.

‘Shut the door. Stay there. Hold on as tight as you can.’

She understood his meaning and ran as quickly as she could, lifting her skirts to help speed her way.

Leopold turned resolutely back to his plan. With a roar of determination he rushed to the nearest sheet and swung his axe. Chopping was faster than undoing the line, and like that he worked from mast to mast, cutting the ropes whether they were fixed or held by motionless crew. Sail by sail the cloth fell, until only the triangular jibs at the front of the ship were still in place.

Together with Jessicah’s efforts below deck, the Farstride indeed began to turn. The fierce wind was pushing on them, but the heavy rear end of the ship was dragged sideways. The timbers groaned under the strain, until she lay perpendicular to their direction of travel, just as Leopold had hoped.

And just in good time, for a cavernous space awaited beside the ship. Leopold held to the railing and his heart almost stopped when he saw the yawning hole. The Farstride was teetering on the lip of it, then she began to roll as she went over. Leopold held on as tightly as he could as the ship plunged sideways down the edge of the vortex.

The raging wind chose that moment to tear the jibs away completely, leaving only one remaining, torn and fluttering.

Despite this, Leopold’s plan had been realised. Instead of impacting the whirlpool directly, they met its turning edge, and the rotating water drew them around, following the rim of the plunging spiral. At its centre, a vast waterfall ringed a chasm of blackness.

‘That’s it,’ Leopold said to himself, looking at the storm clouds above. ‘I’ve done all I can do.’

The ship continued to list, now almost one third the way over, and the frozen crew tumbled over the side of the ship in droves. Leopold grabbed the cut lengths of rope and tied as many together as he could. It was slow work, running rings around the deck and looping people’s arms and legs, threading it through their belts, tying the ends securely to the sturdiest fixtures he could find. He took special care with Kali, Phoenix and Destiny, wrapping the rope around their waists and knotting them carefully to avoid breaking their limbs should the lines snap tight—a luxury he could not extend to most of the men.

Jessicah appeared from a hatchway, making a wavering trail towards him.

‘I told you to stay put!’ he yelled. He had barely finished securing half of those on the main deck. On the other decks, there was little he could do.

‘I don’t think it’s going to make much difference!’ she cried back, her eyes wide as she observed their predicament. An earthly howl emanated from the black hole as air rushed in, above the din of the wind, rain and rushing water.

‘Here,’ he said and pulled her over, strapping her to the railing beside Kali. ‘Hold on tight. You never know. We may just survive. Stranger things have happened.’

It was then that everyone sprang back to life. Without exception, every person still standing fell over. Those who had already been tipped onto their sides due to Leopold’s rope cutting or the tilting of the ship thrashed in confusion until they realised where they were. Many near the downward side of the deck were overcome with surprise, lost balance and fell overboard. Nearly every figure in the masts, some forty men at that stage, fell—most into the sea, some onto the deck. Shouts of dismay and horror came from everyone, for on one side they were met with a looming wall of torrential water, towering high above the masts of the ship, on the other an abysmal gulf. Many more lives would have been lost if not for Leopold’s ropes, but scores went tumbling over the side to their sure deaths.

‘What is this?’ Jessicah asked aloud with confusion, Rei awakening within her. Her eyes came around to see the great mouth in the sea, and she too filled with panic. Her chin moved, but she failed to find any words. At least she had the good sense to clutch the railing.

‘Hold tight!’ Mister Chapman bellowed, and his voice, heard by those nearby, did rouse many to take hold of anything fixed nearby to them.

‘Mister Chapman! Get us out of here!’ cried Captain Merryweather, before the both of them looked up to the empty masts, sparking bewilderment.

‘Get everyone to tie on or hold tight,’ Leopold yelled into their faces.

The bosun did not ask questions, and relayed the commands. The men, as terrified as they were, went to work swiftly and obediently, strapping themselves to the railings where possible. Some soldiers came pelting out from below decks, confused by what had happened. One could not stop and continued running right over the side into the sea while the others grabbed onto the doorway for dear life. Captain Orrell burst onto the deck and skidded onto his face. He recovered quickly and he looked to Rei with concern and a bloodied nose.

‘Stay there!’ Leopold shouted, for crossing the deck was too dangerous.

The captain attempted to cross despite Leopold’s cries, and each time he fell and was forced to turn back. He looked hopelessly desperate, and was finally forced to hold onto the doorway, exhausted from his efforts.

‘Leopold!’ Kali called. ‘What is happening?’

‘We’re in trouble. Just hold on!’ he replied.

Something fell from the skies. It landed right beside them and when it stood, cloaked in black, they saw it was Samuel.

‘Can you not stop this thing?’ Merryweather asked urgently.

‘I’m afraid not,’ the magician replied, looking about the deck with consternation.

‘Then what can we do?’ Leopold asked.

‘Quiet,’ Samuel said and closed his eyes.

They followed his advice, all too fearful to talk, while the Farstride continue to lean. They proceeded along their spiralling course to the centre of the whirlpool. Crewmen wailed and more were lost, unable to hold on any longer. Some were trapped where they were and could not reach any rope, washed away by the surging waters that spewed across the deck.

‘What’s he doing?’ Kali cried. ‘This is no time for prayers!’

‘I don’t know,’ Leopold responded. ‘I only hope it is magic.’

The ship was now broaching forty-five degrees, with more of the maelstrom’s wall now above them than below. They needed hope and when a shuddering ran through their feet, Leopold thought a spell was taking form. When nothing wondrous happened and the shuddering only intensified, it became obvious that something unfortunate was happening deep in the bowels of the ship.

‘What is it?’ Leopold asked.

Captain Merryweather’s face was as white as a ghost. ‘The ballast has shifted. We’re done for.’

Indeed, following his words there was a mighty jolt as all the stones in the lowest hold of the ship slammed into the downside hull. With all the weight on one side, the Farstride rolled. Men screamed and fell away as the deck became a vertical wall. Timber groaned. Planks snapped. The last sight they were going to witness before plunging underwater was the massive void in the sea beside them. Only the magician remained upright and without support, stuck out from the deck sideways like a human nail.

‘Leopold!’ a woman screamed, but the voice was lost in the deafening chaos as the ship completed her roll, tumbling upside down.

Then, a flash of light and everything changed. The Farstride flickered from existence and reappeared in the same instant, far away and the right side up.

Leopold’s stomach rose up into his throat as a sense of rising vertigo overtook him. In a moment of panic he swivelled his head and saw the whirlpool and the great clouds of spray above it in the distance, below a shattered sky of dark clouds and rain.

There was an unusual sensation of weightlessness, and then Leopold realised he was falling. Indeed, they all were, along with the whole ship.

‘Hold tight!’ he shouted, but there was little need, for anyone not tied firmly had already been lost.

The airborne ship slammed into the sea, and Leopold collided into the deck, feeling as if his bones had all been smashed. The nose of the Farstride buried itself deep and it looked as though the vessel was going to continue its path straight to the sea floor, until she levelled out and rose again, clawing her way to the surface. Tonnes of seawater spread as waves across the deck, covering them all and filling their mouths and eyes, spilling over the edges of the deck.

Like almost everyone still alive, Leopold could not bring himself to move. He shuddered, gasping, petrified with horror, expecting some other catastrophe to appear and steal him away.

As the moments passed, people coughed and stammered. Hatches were kicked open and crewmen appeared like startled vagrants venturing into daylight.

The forward masts were gone altogether and half the ship was a wreck. Of all the people on deck, only thirty still remained.

Leopold turned over his shoulder to check on Kali. She and her sisters were gone.

‘What in blazes is happening?’ Rei shouted, sopping wet as everyone.

People realised they were safe and alive, and they cut themselves free from their ropes. Many had grazes and burns from their bindings, many broken limbs. Some were limp, still tied in place, fainted or dead—Leopold had no way to tell.

Captain Orrell hurried over, saturated with water and with blood running from the side of his face, hurrying to check on Jessicah and looking furious.

‘What happened, Magician?’ he demanded.

‘We survived,’ was Samuel’s reply. ‘You best get her back to her cabin,’ he said, referring to Rei. ‘We don’t want her making any further trouble while she has the opportunity.’

‘You are doing a fine job of killing everyone yourself!’ she scoffed.

Captain Orrell took that as a signal to throw her over his shoulder and he started off to put her back in her room ... whatever remained of it. She did not resist, cackling and laughing all the way.

Captain Merryweather had recovered from his initial shock and he and Mister Chapman were making calls to search for the dead and injured, to set to work checking for damage. The deck was noticeably tilted, but that could not be righted until the ballast had been evened out and the bilges pumped dry. Remarkably, those men that survived dragged themselves to the tasks immediately.