Spellbinder, page 29
part #2 of The Jester King Series
Shaldra brought down his sword with all his might, severing the largest limb that gripped the hull, and leaving his sword stuck in the planks. While he tried to free his weapon, the whip-like tentacles snapped around his ankle. He glanced down just as the large, rolled up tentacle swept over his position. The blow caught the elf and knocked him across the deck into the far railing.
Shaldra squinted and rubbed his neck. A moment later, the small tentacles were grasping at his boots. He pulled in his feet, then ducked and rolled away as the hammer-like tentacle demolished the railing behind him.
Once on his feet, Shaldra looked up and saw Deordrif floating above the deck as she had during the lightning storm. Beneath her, countless squirming feeler-tentacles flailed about, searching in vain while she rained down blow after blow on the heftier tentacles.
“I must learn how to do that.”
Billy grabbed Shaldra’s bow and quiver and ran to the side of the stern castle where the elf had landed. “Here!” He handed down the bow.
The lesser tentacles surged towards Shaldra and a dark, corpulent mass boiled out of the hole and onto the deck. The ship let out an agonized groan and listed under its weight. Shaldra grabbed the end of the bow and Billy hauled him up to the stern as the main deck was overrun.
Shaldra climbed up onto the higher deck. “Many thanks, Highness.”
They both glanced over the edge at the squirming tentacles and bubbling mass below. The central core of the creature was now on deck … growing, peeling off, and spitting out more appendages. It left three more colossal branches coiling back into the darkness below.
Above, the clouds opened and the heavens wept at the sight of the abomination, releasing a heavy drizzle.
The ship twisted and shuddered. Billy realized that spell or no spell, the vessel couldn’t take much more. The monster was just too powerful.
“Captain, we need the help of your crew!”
The crew continued to sail the Gyldan Mene, oblivious to the behemoth ravaging her. Shaldra shot two arrows into the beast, which it tore out. It screeched and blindly flung its appendages about, shattering boards and tangling itself in the rigging and wreckage. Billy turned to face the captain.
“Captain, you must help us or the ship will go down!”
Billy paused, staring at the blank eye socket of the captain. He couldn’t tell if it focused on him or on the sea. You want the ship to go down, don’t you?
“Very well. Order the crew to fight this monster now, and I will release you when we reach Lyonesse.”
Shaldra glanced back from the steady stream of arrows he was showering on the monster. “But how will we get back home?”
Billy continued to stare at the captain and answered, “If we don’t get to Lyonesse, there won’t be a reason to get back!”
“Look out!”
At that moment, one of the giant tentacles scraped over Billy’s head and narrowly passed by the captain.
“Captain!”
The captain’s skull tilted on his scrawny neck and bowed. Billy imagined the old sea dog giving him a wry smile and a wink.
The captain drew his rusty sword and held it aloft. This signaled the skeletal crew to drop from the rigging with a heavy net. They hemmed in the main bulk of the beast, lashing it to the deck with pins and cleats, and then stabbed it feverishly with their knives.
The creature shook and screamed in outrage. It thrust up against its restraints—tearing ropes, breaking pins and bending cleats, but still the net held. The monster bellowed and a mass of flat, hooked tentacles shot through the net to wrap around the sailors and draw them in like kelp. Though it snapped and pulled their bones apart, the crew continued to stab and slash at the black monstrosity.
Just then, a fist-shaped protrusion thrust up and tore through the middle of the net. A great, blood-red eye appeared near the new summit of the beast. It focused on Drif and two of the largest tentacles encircled her legs. She cleaved off one of them, but as she raised her sword to smite the other, a third enveloped her arm and bent it back behind her. Drif yelped. Her weapon dropped to the deck like a dart.
Shaldra shot an arrow into the tentacle around Drif’s arm. It jerked in response, causing her to grunt and drop the dagger she had been drawing with her free hand. The two limbs around her then lifted and spread apart. Drif cried out as the tremendous strength of the behemoth stretched her body. Shaldra shot another arrow into the monster’s extremity.
Billy appeared next to him and pointed. “No! Shoot the eye! The eye!”
Shaldra fixed his eyes on the new target and shot true; straight through the scarlet orb.
The creature shrieked and released Drif’s arm. The massive limb then swooped down on the stern castle. Shaldra pushed Billy back but was himself seized along with hunks of splintered decking from beneath his feet.
Billy watched in horror as the monster hauled Shaldra and Drif high above the deck and rolled its many tentacles around them. The elves gasped and cried out under the crushing pain.
“No! Stop it!”
Billy scanned the broken stern deck for something to attack the beast with—something to kill it. Lura Zahn rattled at Billy’s side. He started for its hilt but changed his mind when he saw Shaldra’s weapons lying in the debris.
Billy pushed aside the splintered wood and snatched up the bow and quiver. In so doing, the last arrow in the quiver slid out and fell towards the hole in the deck. Billy dove for the edge and caught the arrow’s sharp point in his palm. Though it stung, he held tight.
He stood with the arrow nocked and drew back the bow. His heart pounded at the walls of his chest.
“Show me your heart, if you’ve got one!”
Billy felt burning in his ring finger and saw a flash of light at the arrow’s tip. He breathed in, as Onian had taught him, and held it as he released the arrow.
The arrow sang off the string and pierced deep into the core of the horror, completely disappearing. A small plume of ichor spurted from the entrance wound before it resealed. The entire creature seemed to freeze, then it jerked and flopped and sputtered as if suffering a coughing fit.
A moment later, the large, sanguine eye reopened and slid down the black, gnarled surface to stare at Billy. Shaldra’s arrow still protruded from its center. The eye elongated and divided into two smaller eyes, leaving the arrow to fall away. The eyes continued to shrink until they were human sized. Then they fell into place on a smooth black face—the face of a young woman. A well-formed human head and torso emerged as the tarry mass melted away. Billy’s arrow jutted from its chest, pointing directly back at him.
Something about this new form presented by the monster was familiar. Though smothered in black ooze, Billy recognized the features as those of Lady Maeven’s younger sister—a shy girl he’d met amid the intrigue at Castle Orgulous.
“Caenne?”
The red eyes smiled. “You think I am the daughter of Feolaghe?” the thing rasped. “You are as weak as he who sent me. I will destroy—”
“Who are you?”
The creature clutched at the arrow in its chest and snarled. “You think you can know me, little man? You think you can dissect one replete with wisdom, with your puny magic, your crude tools?” She pulled at the arrow, but only caused more anguish.
“Perhaps not so weak. But no mortal has ever bested me! I am a breaker of circles, a digger of northern graves ...”
The nature of the fiend became clear. Billy had read about such foul creatures in the Witan’s library: the beings dubbed, “replete with wisdom.” The important thing, as he remembered, was to get their “true” name.
He strengthened his resolve. “Who are you?”
“Very well,” the sinister entity hissed. “You wish to know the name of your destroyer? I am master of the hidden places, lord of secrets, creator of storms, conqueror of the deep—”
“Your name!”
The monster gnashed her teeth. “I am Dheumon.”
“Hi. I’m Billy.”
Dheumon grabbed the arrow and jerked it from her chest.
“Dheumon!” Billy called. “Put down my friends.”
The fiend looked up at the two elves, still held high in its tentacles. “Certainly.” Then, in a swift movement, it bashed Shaldra and Drif together like dolls in the hands of an angry child. Both elves went limp and dropped to the deck.
Billy swallowed hard and widened his stance. “Dheumon ... go away!”
The demon stared at him. Then its lips twisted into a wicked grin. “Fool. Did you really think it would be that easy?”
Lura Zahn leapt into Billy’s hand. A moment later, the demon cranked open its jaw and spat a long tentacle at him. Billy held the sword out in front of him and split the tentacle in two. Dheumon quickly retracted the massive tongue and ejected it again. The two halves rushed Billy. He made a wild swing with both hands and split the tentacles down their length once again.
The demon roared and whisked its spurting, quivering tongue high into the air. The long wounds inflicted by Lura Zahn turned bony yellow. This discoloration spread in rapid succession over the four ends, encrusting them in jagged, barnacled armor. The creature limbered its new appendages, flexing them like fingers.
The newly formed talons swooped down at Billy. He swung and missed. At once, the claw grasped his middle, knocking him back into the captain. Billy’s hands and Lura Zahn became absurdly tangled in the skeleton’s ribcage. The demon’s tongue ripped Billy from the stern castle, leaving the sword behind.
As Billy slammed down on the main deck, he saw the mouth of the demon had grown to replace the form of Caenne. The giant, clawed tongue dragged him in towards rows of sharp, curved teeth. Billy beat and kicked at the extremity, but to little effect.
In desperation, he gripped his assailant and concentrated on his mother’s ring. Putrid smoke peeled off the tongue. The demon bellowed and thrust Billy back against the wall of the stern castle. It battered him repeatedly against the boards until they broke. He collapsed, and the grotesque tongue drew his slumped body from the wreckage. He felt helpless as the monster towed him back to its waiting maw.
All of a sudden, a heavy bronze spear pinned the muscular organ to the deck. The flesh surrounding the weapon quivered and smoked.
“Not so fast.”
The demon’s eyes grew large with fear and anger upon seeing Sylvys. It stretched open its humungous mouth, yelling and tugging on its trapped tongue.
“You? Who is this puny boy to you?”
“My king.”
At that moment, the captain of the Gyldan Mene appeared next to Sylvys with Lura Zahn in his bony hand. The satyr nodded to the captain and he lopped off the demon’s tongue with a clean stroke. The monster bellowed and shook, rocking the entire ship with its might.
Sylvys yanked his ancient spear free and stood his ground between the demon and Billy. A voice boomed from behind him.
“Dheumon!”
Both Sylvys and the captain turned. Billy sat cross-legged on the deck, scribing a circle deep into the planks with one of Shaldra’s arrows. A large black book sat open in his lap.
Sylvys shrank away when he spied Billy’s downcast face. His eyes showed white while the rest of his face hid deep in hollow shadows. Billy held out his hand to reveal Eleanor’s ring spinning like a top in the center of his palm. The ring shone with a pale blue light.
Billy opened his mouth, and in a booming voice said, “Dheumon. Baal. Leviathan.”
The ring spun faster. It quickened until it became a glowing, whistling globe. Billy blew, and it jumped from his hand and danced across the deck between the captain and Sylvys’ feet.
Dheumon pulled back from the advancing light. Without warning, the ring dropped through the hole in the deck and out of sight.
“Ho-ho-ho-ho.” Dheumon oozed its putrid mass forward once again.
“Oh hell,” Sylvys muttered before stepping back. “I hope you’ve got more than that up your sleeve, Highness. Highness?”
Sylvys glanced back and found Billy slumped over on the deck. “Highness!”
Dheumon raised its mass to rush forward, but before the demon could lay a tentacle on them, it was dragged backward. It screamed and jerked, scrambling to stay on the deck, using all its extremities to hold on.
The entire ship creaked, and Sylvys felt off balance. He looked to the side and saw that the ship was spinning. The narrow horizon, where the shrinking sun set, whipped by his view faster and faster.
A waterspout erupted through the deck between Dheumon and Sylvys. It spun violently, pulling in the demon’s tentacles—sucking in its tarry flesh. Sylvys’ hair, however, was only tussled by a gentle breeze.
The satyr leaned forward and stared into the gaping hole in the deck. A great maelstrom raged beneath the ship. Crushing forces of rock and water tore Dheumon to ribbons.
The demon’s bulk sank back into the hole. One by one, the grinding vortex wrenched its tentacles from the ship and sucked them down.
“No-o-o!” Then, whoosh, it was gone.
The now black cyclone became ropey and danced off the deck before shooting into the sky. Below, the maelstrom subsided in a big, belching bubble, leaving the ship spinning slowly on a calm sea.
Sylvys knelt beside Billy and felt for his heart. “My king ... Billy ... Wake up!”
Billy’s eyes fluttered open. Sylvys stared down at him. A dim golden light illuminated the satyr’s concerned features.
“What is it?” Billy flinched. “Ouch, my head.”
“Lay still, my king.”
“What has happened?” He rubbed his head. Then he sat up. “Where’s Shaldra? Where’s Deordrif?”
The forest elf sat up from across the deck. “What? Who?” He spotted Billy and Sylvys near the remains of the stern castle. “What happened to you? Where are we? Are you hurt?”
Before they could answer, there was a clatter of armor and a brief battle cry from the stern. They all turned to see Drif crouched on one knee with her fists raised up to strike. She was breathing through her nose like an angry bull until she spotted the others reclining on the lower deck. She took a deep breath and cracked her neck with a jerk.
“Are you well?” Billy asked her.
The proud warrior continued to loosen the kinks from her body.
“Deordrif! I said, are you well?”
Deordrif glanced over. She seemed surprised that Billy directed his question at her. Her eyes shifted from side to side, and then she gave him a curt nod.
Shaldra rolled his eyes. “Oh, I’m just splendid, Your Highness. Thank you ever so much for asking.”
Billy grinned and shook his head. He then grabbed Sylvys’ hand, enlisting his help to stand.
“Are you sure you should, Your Highness?”
“I’m fine, Sylvys.”
Sylvys steadied Billy once he was on his feet. “Where’s the book?”
“What book?”
Sylvys searched the deck near Billy’s feet. “I could have sworn ... I thought you cast your spell from a book.”
Billy knew what Sylvys was talking about, but he felt ashamed and afraid to talk about the black tome. He held up empty hands. “I don’t have a book.”
The captain, who had been standing in their midst throughout the conversation, stepped forward and presented Lura Zahn to Billy. He examined the blade briefly and sheathed it.
Billy scanned the ship from bow to stern. “Where’s the crew?”
“What?”
“The crew.” Billy gestured to the air around him. “The godforsaken bony crew that sail this ship.”
Sylvys leaned on his spear. “All gone, except for him.”
Billy turned to the captain. “Can you still get us to Lyonesse?”
The captain shrugged and marched to his post at the stern.
Billy rubbed his aching head and let his hand slide down his tired face.
“My king, where is your ring?”
Sylvys smiled at Shaldra and patted Billy’s shoulder. “He threw it overboard.”
Billy looked down at his hand. His mother’s ring was gone! Gone! The word hung hollow and alone in his mind. The word did not relate to the ring, nor could it ever. It was an unthinkable thought to him. Gone.
Billy gripped Sylvys’ arm. “I did what?”
Sylvys looked Billy in the eye, then gave him an encouraging grin. “You threw it overboard.”
Billy blinked and stared off into the vast ocean in shock. “Did I at least have a good reason?”
“Oh yes, Your Highness. Very good.”
Billy looked at the laconic satyr. “Well?”
“You know I’m not good at stories, Your Highness.”
“Go ahead.”
“Well, you—you used it to destroy a powerful demon.”
Billy blinked, and then blinked again. He saw the ring spinning from his hand into the sea. “Oh yes. I did, didn’t I?”
“Are you well, Highness?” Shaldra asked.
Sylvys smiled. “I think His Highness cracked the royal head, didn’t he?”
Billy rubbed the back of his head and nodded.
Just then, there was a thumping and pounding sound as random objects rained down on the ship. Billy and the others covered their heads as the items pelted them. Then all was quiet.
Billy and Shaldra bent down together to examine what the strange rain had brought. There were dead fish, pieces of wood, clothing, rope, bits of bone, and even human skulls amongst the debris. Shaldra picked up a large bone attached to a piece of wood and stood up.
Billy heard a soft but insistent ringing in his ears. He pushed over a seashell by his feet and revealed a small golden object spinning on the deck. He snatched it, and the ringing stopped. He didn’t have to look in his fist to know what it held. Its smooth, warm touch was one he remembered well.
Billy stood and faced Shaldra. “What’d you get?” he asked playfully.
Sylvys held up a fish. “Dinner.”
Shaldra raised the femur. “I got a bone with a … stick on it. What about you?”
Billy wanted to keep Shaldra in suspense for as long as he could. He loved the feeling of keeping a cheery secret. However, the sheer joy he held in his hand could not be tamed, and he exploded.
