The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock (13 page)

Because Malock spent all of his time in his
stateroom, the rest of the crew came to Kinker, Bifor, and the
others for answers. Unfortunately, Kinker and the others were not
able to provide much information, as Malock had said nothing to
them about whatever had killed the others back on Ikadori Island.
Kinker had no doubt that stories would soon begin circulating among
the crew, though, because in his experience that was what sailors
generally did when confronted with a lack of facts.

Though all of the sailors mourned the lack of
ikadori peaches to some extent, the fishing crew seemed to complain
about it more than anyone else. Perhaps that was because Kinker
spent most of his time with the other fishermen, but he figured it
was also because the fishing crew was in charge of providing food
for the rest of the crew. Deddio expressed their collective
disappointment by saying that they would have had to catch much
less fish if they had gotten the peaches, like they had originally
planned.

Nonetheless, things eventually returned to normal
after a while. According to Vashnas, it would be quite sometime
before they reached the next island, which made her unpopular with
the rest of the crew for the next few days.

A day after they left Ikadori Island, the crew held
a collective funeral for the sailors who died on the island. This
surprised Kinker, as he had not thought the crew was close enough
to do that. It was a highly informal funeral, however, in part
because none of them were priests and in part because they did not
have the bodies of the fallen sailors. That all of the dead sailors
had all worshiped different deities made preparing funeral rites
exceptionally difficult, so the funeral was kept short and generic.
They tossed a few of the prized possessions of their fallen
brethren, said a few prayers to help their spirits find solace in
whatever afterlife they found themselves in, and then returned to
work. Danaf almost broke down when he gave a eulogy for his
brother, but aside from that, the rest of the crew seemed more
concerned with their own wellbeing than in the deaths of five of
their fellow sailors.

The next few days after the funeral were mostly
quiet. The most exciting thing that happened was an illness that
spread through the whole ship, making everyone sick and causing
most of them to throw up. Kinker got so ill that he almost thought
he was going to die, but luckily he recovered, thanks to the
combined efforts of Telka and his medical expertise and Bifor and
what little healing magic he knew. No one else died, either,
thankfully.

Yet the sickness did nothing to halt their progress.
Kinker even began to think it might be smooth sailing from here on
out. That is, until about a week after leaving Ikadori Island, when
the fishing crew hauled in something very different from the fish
they usually caught.

It was right before dinner, when the fishing crew
was hauling the trawl out of the ocean for the final time that day.
It was heavier than usual, however, so heavy in fact that they had
to call in help from a few other sailors to get it on the ship.
Kinker assumed that meant they had caught more fish than usual, so
he was more than a little surprised when he saw, lying among the
usual thirty pounds or so fish they caught, a full-grown, adult
male aquarian.

The aquarian looked like an eel, with a long, thin,
smooth body and a head to match. His limbs were equally as thin and
he had a tattoo on his chest that resembled a rose with an arrow
sticking out of it. He didn't look like any of the aquarians aboard
the crew and was so still that for a moment everyone thought he was
dead.

Then his eyes opened, an odd gurgling noise came
from his throat, and he leaped to his feet. The fishing crew and
the other sailors who helped haul in dinner stepped back because
the aquarian looked crazy. His eyes were crossed and his body was
shaking and jittery, like he was high on sugar. Kinker believed
they could defend themselves if they had to, but that didn't mean
he wasn't afraid of the crazy aquarian.

And then, without warning, the eel-like aquarian
turned, ran over to the railing, and launched himself back into the
ocean. The sailors rushed to the railing and looked over the side,
but he was no longer visible in the water and seemed to have
disappeared entirely.

“What was that all about?” said Jenur, pushing away
from the railing and looking at the others in confusion.
“Seriously, the guy didn't even try to attack us.”

“I don't know,” said Kinker. “Gino? Magnisa? Do you
know him?”

Gino shook his head. “Why would we? We've never seen
anyone like him before; right, Maggy?”

“Right,” said Magnisa. “Maybe there was another ship
around here that he fell off of. Doesn't explain why he jumped off
when he saw us, though.”

“I bet he was scared,” said Deddio. “We don't look
much better than pirates, after all. Sadly, I doubt he'll last very
long out there on his own, considering how dangerous these seas
are.”

“The southern seas aren't that dangerous,” said
Jenur, folding her arms. “At least not so far. I'd say the northern
seas are more dangerous, when you consider that we lost most of the
fleet back there. So far, we've lost what, four or five sailors?
Not much compared to what we lost up north.”

“It will get worse before this is all over,” Deddio
insisted. “I don't know what awaits us ahead, but it will be even
worse than mysterious jungles.”

“You're a bundle of joy, Ded,” said Jenur. “You know
that?”

Before Deddio could respond, Kinker turned away from
the stern and said, “Enough arguing, you two. Whoever that aquarian
was, we still have to prepare dinner for the rest of the crew. I'm
sure everyone is starving for the same old crap we serve day in and
day out.”

-

Back on Carnag, Malock never liked wine or beer or
any sort of alcoholic drink. Yes, he often drank in accordance with
the expectations of royalty, but even the best wine always left a
bad taste in his mouth. He was not one to judge people who enjoyed
it. He simply didn't like it, which was why he had refused to take
even one sip of wine from any of his personal store during the
entire voyage.

As to why he brought along alcohol in the first
place, well, much of it was used for medical purposes. Doctor Telka
often used the alcohol to treat wounds. Malock was careful to let
Telka use only as much as the doctor needed, however, because he
didn't want to run out of it. He wanted to keep a little on hand in
case he ever needed it.

Despite Malock's dislike of wine, not for the first
time since departing Ikadori Island, he poured himself a tall glass
of wine from one of his wine bottles. He was not sure what brand
the wine was, as the bottle's label had been ripped off at some
point and he wasn't enough of a wine connoisseur to tell purely
from taste. All he knew was that he needed it.

He wasn't sure how many glasses he had poured
himself over the last week. He lost count every time he lost
consciousness from drink, which was often, and so had decided not
to keep track anymore. He suspected that the number, whatever it
was, would depress him even more than he already was.

Not depressed,
Malock thought.
Confused.

His mind was still reeling from his encounter with
the Loner God. Northern and southern gods, the Treaty, the Godly
War ... thinking about all of this made his head hurt. It
contradicted everything he had ever been taught about the gods,
about the history of the world, and so it caused him conflict in
his heart as well as his head.

That was why he had spent almost all week in his
stateroom. He was still processing everything he had been told,
trying to decide what was true and what wasn't. He had even told
Vashnas to stay away. He knew he needed her more than ever, but at
the same time he didn't want her anywhere near him at the
moment.

In particular, Malock worried incessantly over the
identity of the other chosen one among his group. Who was it? Why
were they keeping their chosen status a secret? Which god had
placed them on the ship? Why had the god done that? And what did
the Loner God mean when he said, 'Politics as usual'? Were Malock
and his crew simple pawns in a game played by the gods? Was there
something deeper going on than any of them realized?

To drown out these unpleasant thoughts, Malock had
taken to drinking, and drinking hard. He was aware of the dangers
of drinking, especially aboard a ship like the
Iron Wind
.
Nonetheless, he knew of no other way to calm his nerves and to
clear away the doubts and questions in his mind. All he wanted now
was bliss ... pure, ignorant bliss, like the kind enjoyed by the
imbeciles that roamed the streets just outside of the Hall of
Carnag, the ones Malock had often seen and pitied growing up.

A sharp knock at the door to his stateroom snapped
him out of his stupor. Malock looked up and shouted, in a slurred
voice, “Go away. I'm busy making plans to invade the Kingdom of ...
of, um, somewhere.”

The door opened anyway and Vashnas entered, looking
concerned. Malock pointed at her with his wineglass, accidentally
sloshing some wine onto the map on his desk, and said, “This is a
secret meeting. I'm the only one allowed. Go away.”

Vashnas shook her head. “No way, Mal. You've been in
here by yourself for too long. I want to know what happened to you
back on Ikadori Island. Whatever happened shook you up.”

Malock lay his head on the table because it hurt and
he was tired. “You don't want to know what I learned, what I saw.
Can't understand it.”

He heard her approach and then felt the cool touch
of her hand on the side of his face.

“You can tell me,” said Vashnas. “I won't judge you,
if you did something you regret. I won't even ask any questions.
You can tell me the entire story from start to finish without any
interruptions from me.”

Malock looked up at her through drunken eyes. It
occurred to him that she was a member of the crew. And the Loner
God did say that it had been one of Malock's crew who was a Chosen
One as well ...

He rejected the implications immediately. No.
Vashnas would never betray him or hold secrets from him. She was a
true friend and lover, through and through. His skeptical side did
ask why she forgot to mention the Loner God living on Ikadori
Island, but he swiftly rejected that thought when he remembered
Vashnas saying that she had not explored the island very much the
last time she was there.

Malock sat up, slowly, and leaned back in his
rickety chair. His head pounding, he told Vashnas everything that
he had seen, heard, and experienced back on Ikadori Island— from
the Loner God's appearance to the origin of the gods. Vashnas
listened, as she promised, without word or interruption, which made
it easier for Malock to tell her all about it. It was still
difficult, however, because his drunken lips constantly slurred
words, and more than once he lost his train of thought, only to
find it again with Vashnas's help. The only fact he omitted was the
Loner God mentioning that there were multiple Chosen Ones in the
crew, mostly because a small part of him, for some reason, didn't
trust Vashnas. He did, however, mention a spy among the crew, but
only one and he didn't know the spy's identity.

When he finished, Vashnas looked thoughtful, but not
surprised. Malock didn't know whether that meant she believed the
story or not. All he knew was that his headache was starting to go
away, albeit very slowly.

“How very strange,” said Vashnas. “A god living by
himself on an island; moreover a god who eats mortals. I am
surprised you got away alive at all.”

Malock remembered the Loner God's wooden teeth, his
lips streaked with blood, and shuddered. “The only reason ... only
reason he let me live is because he thought this whole voyage was
doomed. Didn't see the point in killing us when he could let
everything play out to its gruesome end.”

“That's not good,” said Vashnas. “That's not good at
all. We'll have to remain vigilant. If there is a spy in the crew,
then we need to find them and root them out right away.”

Malock rubbed the back of his head, which no longer
bled, thanks to a healing spell by Bifor. “Only problem is, I don't
know who the ... uh ... who the spy is.”

“Do you have any ideas at all?” said Vashnas, taking
a seat in the chair on the opposite side of his desk. “Any?”

Malock's first impulse was to say,
Yes. You,
but he didn't want to scare her off and was horrifed at himself for
thinking that.

He simply said, “Like I said, no. Could be anyone.
Maybe even me.”

Vashnas gently tried to take away the wine bottle.
“Mal, I think the drink is starting to affect your thinking. I'll
put this away and you can take a nap until you feel better. We
won't reach the next island for another few days, so you have
plenty of time to recover.”

Malock didn't let go of the bottle. “I don't ... no.
You don't understand.”

Now Vashnas's gentle expression faltered slightly.
“What don't I understand?”

“All of it,” said Malock, waving his free hand. “The
southern gods, politics as usual, the spy, the Treaty, the War ...
all of it. Aren't you the least bit, uh, concerned? It's all so
paradigm-shattering. I don't know how I can ... how I can go on
knowing this.”

Vashnas began to undo his grip on the bottle, finger
by finger. “It's okay, Mal. You're strong. You can do this. You've
made it this far after facing countless tragedy. We still have a
long way to go before we reach World's End. You don't need to get
yourself drunk out of your mind to finish the voyage.”

Malock was completely unconvinced by that argument
and was going to have another go at it when the door swung open and
Banika entered. Her hands twitched when she spotted Vashnas,
perhaps because she still remembered being knocked out, but that
was the only sign of emotion in the otherwise unreadable
boatswain.