The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock (27 page)

As soon as the bottom of the rowboat hit the ice
ring, Malock and his hunting party climbed out and dragged the
rowboat the rest of the way across the ice ring. The rowboat was
heavy, even with all six of them working together, but they managed
it and soon they were in Stalf Bay, rowing across the freezing
water to the island's shore.

As they drew nearer to the shore, however, Malock
spotted some strange animals crawling out of the water onto the
beach. He waved at the rowers to stop, which they did, and then
pointed at the animals. The hunting party watched in silence as the
creatures, about a dozen in all, rested on the beach, like they
were taking a nap.

The animals looked like walruses, but they had to be
at least as big as bears. Their sleek skin was completely black,
contrasting sharply with the long white teeth that jutted out from
their upper lips. Some of the lay on their backs, while a few lay
on their stomachs. Their fins looked as sharp as swords, but
thankfully the walrus-like creatures didn't seem to notice Malock
and his crew at all. They looked like they were taking a nap.

Jenur gulped. “Anyone know what those are?”

“Vashnas told me about them,” said Malock. “She
always called them 'baba raga,' which is an aquarian phrase meaning
'big animal.'”

“That's helpful,” said Jenur. “But what do they do?
Can they fly and shoot lasers from their eyes?”

“Vash just said they're tough, but usually don't go
around picking fights,” said Malock. “So I imagine, if we don't try
to fight them, that they'll just leave us alone.”

Kocas, who was one of the rowers, leaned forward on
her seat, licking her lips as she looked at the resting baba raga.
“I think the more important question is, how edible are they?
Because I think even one of those things could provide enough meat
to feed a small family for a couple of days at least.”

“Not sure,” said Malock. His stomach growled. “But
let's find out. Once we get to shore, of course.”

The hunting party quickly crossed the rest of the
bay. They landed near a cove, where they stashed the rowboat so
they wouldn't lose it when the tide came in. They then made their
way across the snowy beach, slowly and carefully, trying not to
draw the attention of the baba raga to them.

Despite their best attempts at stealth, the baba
raga noticed them. One of them raised its head lazily, blinking its
small eyes in their direction, as if wondering who they were and
what they were going to do. It looked rather innocent, but when
Malock's stomach growled again, he didn't feel any regret in aiming
his gun, pulling the trigger, and putting a bullet through its
head.

The rest of his party followed, aiming and firing
their guns at all of the baba raga. Instead of fighting back, as
Malock expected them to do, the remaining baba raga slid down the
sand into the ocean and disappeared beneath the waves, where no one
could see them. Not that Malock was complaining, as their initial
attack had bagged them three baba raga and they were big ones,
too.

Malock left the task of gutting the baba raga to his
hunters, as it was a messy task that was beneath his station. He
watched Kocas and Jenur use their gutting knives to pierce the skin
of the baba raga.

Or rather, watched as they tried to. As it turned
out, baba raga skin was far thicker than they had first supposed.
Although the bullet holes were as visible as day, their knives just
glanced off the sides of the creatures' hides, almost like they
were made of rock. The hunters tried to pierce the baba ragas'
hides for about an hour, but all they succeeded in doing was to
damage their knives and waste time, prompting Malock to say, “All
right, men. Looks like we can't skin 'em. Just leave them here. I'm
sure there're more edible animals further inland.”

Jenur sheathed her knife and pointed at the giant
white walls in the center of the island. “Maybe we should figure
out what are behind those walls. Maybe someone lives there who
might be willing to give us food.”

Kocas laughed as she stood up, adjusting the belt of
her pants. “Please. I know you're young, Jenur, but naïve, too? Or
weren't you paying attention to what happened the last time we went
too far inland on an island?”

“Kocas is right,” said Malock. “Whatever is behind
those walls probably doesn't want anything to do with us and we
probably don't want anything to do with it. We'll stick to hunting
in the forest around it.”

Jenur frowned and looked at the dead baba raga
before her. “If you say so, Captain.”

The party of six walked through the snow into the
thin forest. It was rough going, however, not because of the snow
on the ground, but because their feet and boots were already wet
from the water. Now that they were slogging through the snow, even
with their thick Carnagian boots on, it was pure torture, but
Malock ignored it and encouraged his men to do the same.

Unlike the jungle on Ikadori Island, the forest of
Stalf was sparse, so spare that it could barely be called a forest.
The branches above them were thin enough that light could shine
through, although it was a weak light, not strong enough to warm
them or melt the snow. Even the trees thick with leaves did not
have as many leaves as the thinnest tree on Ikadori Island;
nonetheless, Malock kept looking over his shoulder, up at the
treetops, and to both sides.

None of his hunters commented on his odd behavior.
That was partly because the group needed to keep silent in order to
prevent prey from hearing them and running away, but it was also
because they likely already knew why he was doing that. True, none
of them knew about the Loner God, but they all knew that something
bad had happened on Ikadori Island and that whatever it was had
shaken Malock badly.

Not that Malock would ever actually admit that. As
Captain of the crew and head of the hunting party, Malock believed
that any sign of weakness on his part was unacceptable. He needed
to make the rest of his crew think he was confident and in charge
and he couldn't do that if he admitted he was afraid. It was how
his father, the king, ruled Carnag and it was how Malock had lead
his crew so far.

One thing that made Stalf better than Ikadori Island
was the abundance of animals. Of course, none of them were very
big—a few white rabbits, some snow squirrels, a pale deer or
two—but it was refreshing to finally see animals they recognized
for once and so they shot with pure abandon. The animals of Stalf
didn't seem to know what humans were, but by the end of the hour,
Malock and his hunters had already shot two snow squirrels and a
pale deer. The rest of their prey ran away, but Malock was
confident that his hunters would have no trouble at all tracking
them down if they needed to. The tracks in the snow the fleeing
beasts made were obvious.

Over the next couple of hours, things went extremely
well for the hunters. They shot and skinned animals, storing away
the tastiest bits in their hunting bags, and despite the cold were
all having a good time. Things were going so well for them that
Malock actually let his guard down, feeling that perhaps Stalf
wasn't home to a crazy god that wanted to kill them and that his
hunters could take down whatever this island threw at them.

In fact, Malock himself actually managed to shoot
some game. His best shot so far was the large pale deer he spotted
a dozen yards or so from where they stood. The pale deer darted off
faster than any they had seen before, but with a steady hand and
quick aim Malock put a bullet through its head and killed it in one
hit. He even skinned it himself; well, after Jenur taught him how,
of course.

For the first time since Ikadori Island, Malock felt
on top of the world. Sure, he was cold and tired and figured they'd
have to head back to the ship within the next hour unless they
wanted to get frostbite, but honestly none of that seemed nearly as
bad as what he had been through on this voyage so far. He kept
imagining the scent of cooked pale deer meat wafting from the
galley, a scent he hadn't smelled since the day he left Carnag
Hall.

Things were going so well, in fact, that Malock was
genuinely surprised (and horrified) when Gormas Okina dropped dead
in the snow suddenly and without warning.

The hunters had just caught a particularly fat snow
rabbit, thanks to Kocas's superb aim with a gun, when Okina touched
his neck, said, “What the—” and then fell face forward onto the
not-yet-skinned snow rabbit, which he had been kneeling over while
Kocas skinned it.

This caused all of the hunters to step back, but
Malock moved in and crept down next to Okina's body. He placed a
hand on Okina's neck and felt no pulse.

“What happened?” said Jenur, her eyes darting back
and forth. “Is he unconscious?”

Malock shook his head. “Dead, by the look of it.
Died instantly.”

“How?” said another hunter, a male human named
Aseth. “That makes no sense. I know Okina was always joking about
how he was just going to drop dead from old age one of these days,
but I didn't think he was being literal about it.”

Malock felt along Okina's cold neck and found
something sticking out of it. He plucked the thin thing and held it
up for all to see.

“It's a dart,” said Kocas, sounding impressed. “Very
aerodynamic, too, by the look of it. And the needle looks even
sharper than my mother's knitting needles. I think we're dealing
with a professional here.”

“But who shot it?” said Aseth, looking around
nervously. “And where are they? Are you sure Vashnas didn't mention
anything about other people living on Stalf, sir?”

Malock nodded. “She said she didn't explore Stalf
very fully when she first came here. So we were basically going in
blind.”

Kocas took the dart from Malock's hand and turned it
over, going over it with a critical eye. “Look at it. This thing
had enough poison in it to kill a full-grown zinyu in a second.
Poor Okina probably didn't even feel it reach his heart.”

“That means we're dealing with someone who knows
what they're doing here,” said Malock. “Jenur, will— hey, where's
Jenur?”

The young woman was missing from the group, even
after they did a quick check of the area. They called out her name
for several minutes, but in all that time the only answer they
received was the howling of the wind, which picked up rather
suddenly.

Malock stood up, dusting off his hunting jacket, as
he said, “Okay, we're getting out of here. Whoever killed Okina is
clearly not interested in entertaining guests, so—”

Without warning, something large and heavy fell out
of a tree and into a clump of bushes at its base. This caused the
group to jump and they jumped again when Jenur leaped down from the
same tree. Her knife was out and stained slightly with blood, which
she was wiping off on her pant leg as she approached the group.

“Found him,” said Jenur, gesturing with her head in
the direction of the thing that had fallen from the tree. “He was
just loading his blowgun with another one of those killer darts
when I came up behind him and slit his throat. He probably didn't
even know I was there.”

“Who didn't even know you were there?” said Malock.
“And how the hell did you sneak away without any of us even hearing
you leave?”

Jenur shrugged. “The guy who killed Okina. As for
how I sneaked off, well, that's not really any of your business,
now is it?”

“Excuse me?” said Malock, taking a step forward. “I
don't like that tone.”

“And I don't like the fact that you falsely accused
me of being a spy and almost sold me off to a weird blob thingy,”
said Jenur. “But you don't see me whining about that, now do
you?”

Malock's hands shook with anger, but he said,
“Whatever. Let's get a better look at our silent assassin, shall
we?”

They had to clear away the bushes in order to see
him clearly, but when they did, Malock wasn't quite sure what he
was looking at. The being had skin as rough as rock, with a
lopsided, jagged mouth that revealed a row of uneven teeth. His
entire body was covered in a large fur coat, so white that it faded
in with the snow extremely well. Aside from his face, only his
hands and feet were exposed, covered in thick black fur, with four
fingers and four toes on each. In his left hand, he had what had
probably been his blowgun, which was now broken in two, possibly
because of the fall.

“Is it human?” said Aseth, tilting his head to one
side like the being's appearance might make more sense from another
angle. “Or something else?”

“He died like a human,” said Jenur. “I'll admit,
though, that he didn't make any human-like noises. Just sort of
made a weird gurgling noise when I slit his throat.”

“Let's check his body,” said Kocas. “Maybe there
will be a clue on it that will tell us about his identity.”

“Way ahead of you,” said Jenur as she fished
something out of her pocket. “He didn't have much on him, except a
dozen darts, his blowgun, and this.”

Jenur held out a oval-shaped stone in her hand. It
was colored bright red, almost like fire; in fact, unless Malock
was mistaken, the stone radiated heat, although it wasn't very
much. The stone was covered in markings, but they were in a
language that Malock couldn't read.

“Wait,” said Malock, looking at Jenur. “So you
climbed up the trees, slit this guy's throat, looted his corpse,
and then pushed it down?”

“Yep,” said Jenur. “Why? Is there something
wrong?”

“No,” said Malock, shaking his head quickly.
“Nothing wrong. Just ... curious about how the sequence of events
played out. That's all.”

“So then what's that?” said Kocas, pointing at the
stone Jenur held. “Anyone seen anything like it before?”

“No,” said Aseth. “But if I had to compare it to
something, I'd say it resembles the kind of stones that
lithomancers carry around in order to channel their stone magic
better. My sister is a lithomancer and she has one like that.”