The Shadow’s Curse (24 page)

Ahead of him, Tarik stumbled out into the corridor, his hands gripping the walls, arms and legs outstretched. ‘What’s happening?’ Tarik managed to shout out, and Raim just caught his words before there was another rumble of thunder overhead.

‘Let’s get on deck!’ he tried to shout over the noise, but when all he got in return was a blank stare, he pointed upwards. Tarik nodded, but the fear in his eyes meant Raim would have to lead the way.

He stumbled past, pulling at Tarik’s arm, trying to transfer some of the courage he wasn’t even really feeling himself. He had to act courageous, a game of pretend. Really, he had no idea what he was doing. But doing something felt better than being cooped up down below, with no sight of the sky.

They burst out onto the deck, ejected from the lower decks like the ship was throwing them up. Heavy rain pounded Raim’s face and arms, like arrowheads sent down from the sky. Little balls of ice skittered along the deck, even though they were
south
for the sake of the gods! But the sky above them looked like no sky Raim had ever seen before. Thick black and grey clouds swirled around them in a hypnotizing pattern – lit up by flashes of lightning. The waves seemed to join the sky, equal in their grey, roiling darkness. Raim put his arm across his face to shield it from the rain, but it did no good. He found himself flung up against the bulwarks, clinging for his life. As his sight cleared, he spotted sailors running around on deck, brows furrowed with purpose.

‘Look out there!’ shouted Draikh.

Where?
Raim craned his neck, trying to spot what Draikh was referring to. His hair was plastered over his eyes by the rain, and he let go with one hand to push it back. That’s when he saw it.

A twister. A spinning spiral of water and wind, snaking its way from the waves to the clouds.

‘Not that!’ said Draikh. ‘In the water – look.’

Raim was mesmerized by the twister, which looked as if it was about to make its way towards the ship at any moment. But finally he tore his eyes away, and down to where Draikh was pointing.

Just below the twister, under the water, there was a flash of red. Raim watched, wide-eyed and trembling, as the red object breached the ocean’s surface, and he could see that it was the body of a serpentine creature – half as wide as the ship but many times as long, judging from the rolls of its body as it undulated beneath the waves.

‘What on Sola’s great earth is that?’ shouted Tarik above the wind.

‘No idea!’ said Raim. But when the creature’s head finally emerged, Raim felt all rational thought leave his body. It had an enormous head like an oversized camel, but with the tusks of a boar and horns like a deer. As it opened its mouth, row after row of sharp teeth gnashed together, water pouring out of the corners of its gruesome smile. Long filaments dropped on either side of its nostrils, like an old man’s beard. The creature’s eyes flashed, lit up by lightning.

But most terrifying of all was that its eyes were fixed on Raim.

‘It is a seadragon!’ shouted Bayan, his legs wrapped around the mast where he clung like a monkey, his arms outspread despite the ferocious wind. ‘She has come for the promise-knot. We should give up the boy as a sacrifice!’

With a speed that belied its enormous size, the creature’s head dived under the water, the rest of its body following, although it never seemed to end. The ship lurched and tilted, sending Raim and Tarik scrambling backwards, sliding along the slippery wooden deck.

‘Oh gods, it’s gone underneath us!’ said Tarik.

Sure enough, the seadragon emerged again on the other side of the ship. It raised itself up, revealing its pale yellow underbelly in contrast to the dark red scales of its back. Raim didn’t have long to contemplate it as the dragon flung itself across the prow of the ship, holding the ship hostage within a loop of its enormous bulk. It began to squeeze the ship, and a resounding crack signalled the buckling of the structure under the sea serpent’s weight and muscle.

‘She’s going to break the ship in half!’ shouted Shen. ‘All men gather arms!’

The sailors reluctantly followed his orders, scrambling around for weapons – but they didn’t have many options. Shen thrust a pitchfork into Raim’s hands, but he didn’t know what good that would do against the dragon’s scaly hide. Now that he could see it up close, he saw that each scale shone like the rubies in the Khan’s crown. They shimmered brighter with every twist of its body, the coil tightening, splinters of wood flying off the ship and into the sea.

He stepped forward, the pitchfork in his hands, and immediately was thrown off-balance by another enormous wave. Anyone who had managed to reach the serpent found their weapons turned aside by the scales. Shen, who had a sword, swung his blade hard against the creature’s back, only to have it break on impact.

‘Fire!’ Another man burst from the galley below, thick black smoke pouring out onto the deck, as if they didn’t have enough to worry about. Raim turned his head to see red and orange flames dance in the doorway.

‘It’s no use!’ said Bayan, who was still so calm it made him appear all the more crazy. ‘This is our punishment for bringing the oathbreaker aboard.’ He cackled with the laugh of a madman.

Draikh, we have to do something!
thought Raim.

‘I know. I have an idea!’ he replied. ‘We need the fire!’

I’m coming!
Raim dragged himself hand over hand along the rail, to get closer to the door down to the galley. Despite the biting wind, he could feel the heat from the flames on his face. A roar came from behind him, and Raim didn’t know whether it was from the storm or the seadragon.

‘Raim, look out!’ His brother’s warning made Raim fling his body down onto the deck, and only just in time, as the seadragon lashed out at him, its long fangs only just missing their target. Instead the dragon ended up with a mouthful of wooden planks, which only seemed to anger it.

‘Draikh, I need you!’ shouted Raim. The seadragon lunged again, and this time it was more accurate. Raim managed to jab his pitchfork up into the roof of the creature’s mouth, but it released a sulphurous roar of pain that singed Raim’s face and clothes and made him release his hold of the meagre weapon.

His clothes were torn and tattered, the dark tattoo of permanence on his chest and the crimson scar around his wrist clearly visible and open to the elements. The dragon arched back for another strike, but Oyu bought him some time, swooping from the sky and pecking at the creature’s eye to distract it.

One quick glance at the ship told Raim all he needed to know: if the dragon wasn’t defeated soon, the whole ship would go down. All the sailors were working to push a section of the serpent’s body off the prow of the ship, but the creature was hardly bothered about that. Tarik’s face was white with fear and he was shaking like a leaf. All these people would die, because of him.

He could jump into the water now and try to lead the creature away from the ship, to give them all a better chance. The fact that Raim couldn’t swim was just a minor flaw in his plan.

Luckily, he didn’t have to make that decision. A column of fire burst from below the deck, followed by Draikh who, with his palms spread, directed it toward the beast. It hit the scales and spread, like the base of a fiery waterfall. Another roar from the dragon signalled that Draikh had definitely attracted its attention.

The sailors began to cheer as balls of fire began to attack different parts of the seadragon’s body, making it loosen its hold on the prow of the ship. It momentarily forgot its attack on Raim and finally dived into the water to escape the persistent flames.

‘We have to get the ship moving, now!’ said Shen. ‘If we get beyond the Xel rocks, we’ll have a chance of reaching the South before that wretched creature can come back. All men to oars!’

Tarik gripped his arm. ‘You can do something, can’t you, Raim? You controlled the fire – now do the same with the wind. Steer us to safety past the rocks.’ There was desperation in his voice. Raim looked to Draikh, to the place where the seadragon had disappeared, to the crew on the deck, and made up his mind.

‘Shen!’ Raim yelled. ‘Shen, I have a plan.’

All the sailors made way for Raim as he approached Shen, who was back at the wheel. In the storms, they were all equal: oathbreaker, Darhanian, Southerner. Two emotions ruled their faces: absolute terror, and a glimmer of hope. Raim represented the hope. Was this what being a leader of men was about?

He just hoped he could handle the pressure.

Draikh’s voice filled his mind. ‘I don’t know if I can! I feel so weak from the fire.’

‘What does the spirit say?’ asked Tarik. ‘Does he agree? Will he help us?’

If we don’t do this, we are all going to die. You’re the only one who can help us through this storm.

Draikh stopped hesitating, and swooped up toward the mast and sails. He tried to do the same as before, outstretching his arms and attempting to control the direction of the wind. But the moment his form connected with it, the wind blew him swiftly across the prow of the ship. He dropped to the deck, and yelled at Raim: ‘It’s too strong!’

‘Try again!’ Raim said, not hiding the blind panic in his voice. The sky behind them grew even more menacing, if that was even possible. It was as black as night, angrier than the waves. Draikh tried again. But the moment he flew, there was a bright flash of light and a sickening crack. Lightning had forked out of the sky and struck the mast, which bloomed fire. The lightning struck again, and this time the mast came hammering down in fiery splinters.

The waves lifted the ship up, and it listed to the side. Raim found himself dangling almost-vertically as he hung onto the nearest rail. A flash of lightning illuminated something even more terrifying: a rock, jagged and immense, jutting out of the ocean like a spear. The ship tilted back the other way and Raim’s feet touched the deck again. ‘Is that the South?’ Raim yelled, not really expecting an answer from anyone.

‘They must be the Xel rocks that Shen was talking about,’ said Draikh in his mind. ‘The home of the seadragons.’

Raim didn’t even have the mental strength to think up an answer. He tried to swallow down his panic, which was growing stronger with every passing moment.
We escaped the seadragon, was it all for nothing?

Seeing Raim’s plan fail, Shen’s head was thrown back in laughter, while his hands gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles were going white. He was trying in vain to control the movement of the wheel, which looked as if it wanted to spin right off its axle. Shen had said the wheel needed at least three people to control it in bad weather. There was no way he could do it on his own.

In fact, from Raim’s vantage point, it didn’t look as if Shen was in control of the ship at all.

Shen’s voice pierced the darkness and the wind. ‘We’ve hit the rocks!’ he shouted. Raim watched as he let go of the wheel, which spun out of control. He took a run at the side of the ship, and then – to Raim’s great surprise – leaped overboard into the roiling sea.

He wasn’t the only one. All around Raim, the crew ran to the sides, abandoning ship, bailing out of the storm. The ship lurched, taking in water towards the back. She seemed to be caught on something – the rocks most likely – and the waves and wind and lightning and rain continued to batter her into submission.

Raim was paralysed – he couldn’t face the water . . . Sola! He couldn’t swim! And neither could Tarik. They would rather cling to the disintegrating ship than risk the water.

Draikh had abandoned trying to control the wind and was attempting to make his way back to Raim. But the ship’s tenuous grip on the rock failed, and it came free with an ominous ripping sound.

Only half the ship came away, weakened by the sea dragon’s attack – the half that Raim was on. For a moment, his half of the ship hung there on the sea, suspended in a moment that he prayed would last for ever.

It didn’t.

He let go of the rail, and looked over at Tarik. He gave him one firm nod – one he hoped would give him the confidence to follow.

Then he jumped overboard.

His body hit the water with a smack, and then he kicked for his life. But the water overwhelmed him. The darkness swelled into his lungs, so much colder and more powerful than he ever expected.

The water consumed him.

Apart from Khareh’s, the Weaver’s camp was the biggest group of yurts that Wadi had ever seen. Hundreds of felt-covered, rounded dwellings huddled together on an open plain. There were animals too – not just goats and horses, but oxen and camels, birds with hoods over their eyes and the odd dog, running around snapping at heels.

People turned to stare at Wadi as she entered. She pulled her scarf up over her head to try to hide her face, but it didn’t work. The young girl was riding on the pony in front of Wadi, and once they reached the outskirts of the camp, she jumped down, surefooted as any of her animals.

Wadi dropped to the ground as well, trying to ignore the myriad eyes staring at her. She stroked her pony’s muzzle, and followed the girl into the camp.

There was a peace in this camp that was a marked difference from Khareh’s. There weren’t large swords, bows, arrows and axes littered on the ground, no stench of sweat and blood like in a war camp. Here, life was more domestic, and the smell of leather drying in the sun, of fermented milk being warmed and the dusty scent of stretched felt filled the air. That didn’t mean that there wasn’t a sense of danger too. The women squinted through hooded eyes, large sticks within arm’s reach. And there were men too, from the few remaining tribes that hadn’t submitted to Khareh’s reign, who looked both strong and deadly.

They approached a yurt that was very different from the others: tied around the middle with a band of bright-blue silk. The girl ran ahead then, but when she got to the entrance, she turned back to Wadi. ‘She is here, Wadi. Do you want me to tell her you are coming?’