EIGHTEEN

Within the Fathoms of the Great Big Sea

At no point in this entire excursion did Dungar feel as attached and protective of the treasure as he did now. It was an interesting feeling of possessiveness. It wasn’t that he wanted the treasure, but rather he just didn’t want the tree to have it. He didn’t know if the feeling stemmed from his prejudices or was just plain pettiness, but it made no difference either way. His patience for magical dealings had long since run out, so he had a very hostile answer in mind for this call from nature.

“Head down to the cargo hold and fetch us some weapons, lad.” Nobeard ordered Dungar. “I be about ready to go lumberjack on this wench.”

Dungar couldn’t have said it any better himself. He pushed his way through the scurrying pirates and towards the door leading to that familiar staircase then through the door and down into the dim and gloomy storage area. Just as he remembered, there was very little light to illuminate the room, the air instead filled with the smell of now decaying fish. But there was no time to be wasted.

Dungar began rifling through boxes looking for any weapons capable of cleaving through any attackers. The available resources were meagre at best. Most of the boxes were filled with assorted produce, raw materials, or petty loot from smalltime raids. As he continued to search, Dungar found himself distracted by a faint scraping sound slowly becoming audible over the usual sounds of sailing on the sea. He also noticed the room seemed to be somehow getting even darker.

As he slammed down the lid of the crate he currently rifled through, Dungar looked around the room. The various cracks and holes in the wooden room were still present, just smaller, as if something were plugging parts of them. The scraping sound continued as he tentatively moved towards the wall to inspect it. The openings were still becoming smaller yet, almost like the walls were repairing themselves, but it was impossible to know for sure in the darkness.

“Back away from the bulkheads, lad!” The authoritative voice of Nobeard called out.

Dungar could just barely make out the pirate captain’s silhouette in the room with him.

“Hold this.” Nobeard ordered once again, handing an unlit torch to Dungar.

With a quick flash from Nobeard’s flint and steel, the torch ignited and the cargo hold was illuminated by a faint light. The light, albeit dim, was still enough to make the walls visible. The cracks and holes were still very much present, however any light shining through them was hindered by the hundreds of slim roots forcing their way through like brown worms. They made the eerie scraping noise as they slid against the wooden wall, making their way farther inside the ship and finding things to latch onto.

“It be tryin’ to stop us cold in the water!” Nobeard exclaimed.

Thinking on his feet, Dungar took the torch he held and plunged it into the writhing entanglement of the creeping roots. Hisses and sizzles were immediately heard as the plant organs began to wriggle frantically, trying to escape the flames. He continued to stick the torch into each of the entanglements until they had all retreated out of the cargo hold.

“Brilliant, lad!” Nobeard cheered. “I need ye above deck with me though, I’ll send some hands down here to keep the bastards out in your stead!”

They hurried back up the stairs and onto the deck where several more of the giant roots had appeared. The entire crew was going crazy as the enormous roots swept across the deck like pendulums. Anything that wasn’t affixed to the ship somehow was knocked airborne and likely overboard.

“Arm yerselves, lads!” Nobeard yelled to anyone who would listen. “It just be a tree! Fight back! Fine, don’t fight back then! At least get yerselves below deck before—” His voice trailed off as he watched one of the roots wind itself around a crewman’s leg, pull him off the deck, and drag him into the water.

“—that happens …” Nobeard finished. “Are any of the bloody cannons loaded yet?”

“Yes, captain!” A muffled voice called out through the hole left by the treasure chest.

“Then what are ye waitin’ fer, ye flea bitten loon? Fire the blasted thing!”

Seconds later, the thunderous bang of cannon fire rang out from a few decks below. Dungar and Nobeard both watched with a grimace as a large cannonball shot out from beneath them, missing every tree root by at least five paces. Frustrated more than ever, Nobeard ran over to the hole in the deck and screamed into it.

“Is it too much to expect ye to aim the thing before ye fire it?!”

“But captain, you ordered us to—”

“Now I be ordering ye to shut yer flappin’ gums! Fire the cannons AT the tentacles before I keelhaul every last one of ye! They be difficult targets, but I believe in ye!”

Breathing heavy from all his yelling, Nobeard got up and hurried back to Dungar.

“Those grog addled milk maids couldn’t hit themselves in the face with their own fist. We need to get out of here, matey! Go tell the helmsman to head fer the Northward Passage of Doom!”

Dungar started to head for the helm, but stopped short when he realized just what Nobeard said.

“Uh, the Northward Passage of Doom? What is that?”

“Ah don’t worry, lad. It be like any normal northward passage. Just, y’know, doomier.”

“But what does tha—”

“No more questions, matey, just go!”

Begrudgingly, Dungar made his way across the hectic deck, ducking under the swinging tree roots and dodging the panicking sailors until he made it to the ladder leading to the helm. He quickly clambered up it and found the quivering pirate at the helm cowering behind the ship’s wheel. His knees were shaking so badly that his white knuckled grip on the wheel seemed to be the only thing keeping him on his feet.

“You really don’t look like you’ll want to hear this,” Dungar informed him forebodingly. “But the captain, er, sends orders to, er, navigate the Northward Passage …” His voice trailed off as he gazed into the terrified eyes of the frail sailor trembling before him. “… of Doom.”

“Oh come on!!” The pale pirate protested. “Even a good wheelman couldn’t take us through that! Why doesn’t he just tell us to get off and swim?”

Dungar shrugged, sympathy had never come easy to him. He hopped back down onto the lower deck and headed back to Nobeard who was darting around the deck flailing an axe.

“Are we on course, lad?” Nobeard asked him as he sliced through a nearby tree root.

“I think so. Your designated driver didn’t seem to be a big fan of the idea.”

“Ah he just has no faith. The Polina can punch ahead in any gale.”

Dungar cocked his head to the side curiously.

“That be the name of this vessel, lad. Did ye need anything else? Now isn’t really the ideal time for chitting or chatting.”

“I have meself a few questions if you don’t mind, mate.” Jimminy interjected, emerging from behind a pile of barrels. “Wot’s the Northward Passage of Doom?”

Exasperated, Nobeard looked back and forth between Dungar and Jimminy before he sighed and lowered his axe.

“It’s a wee little inlet between some sharp rocks where some unfriendly critters live. Most seafarers opt not to traverse it, but we don’t have much choice.”

“Huh, I see.” Jimminy acknowledged. “Alright, next question!”

“WHAT?!”

“Are you aware there’s an angry lookin’ beastie attempting to devour your boat, mate?”

Nobeard paused for a moment, contemplating the statement. “Well I am now!”

The captain picked up his axe and the three men hurried to the stern of the ship where, sure enough, a giant sea monster had emerged from the water and was slowly trying to draw the pirate ship into its gaping maw. The dilated pupils of its enormous glowing green bug eyes were transfixed on the vessel as the several rows of razor sharp teeth slowly drew closer. The colossal red fish was even bigger than the pirate ship, and the tough looking scales that coated its body likely rendered it more durable too. Dungar and Nobeard both gaped wide eyed at the creature, but Jimminy remained nonchalant as ever

“Bet you’re glad that wasn’t the fish that swallowed the key eh, mate?”

“You would be correct, sailor.” Nobeard acknowledged, not taking his eyes off of the monster. “Alright, lads! I’m going to need me a hoister!”

Instantly a pair of pirates appeared with a rope which they fastened around the mast and tossed over a high wooden beam jutting out over the rear end of the ship. Nobeard made his way over to his captain’s quarters, burst inside, and began rifling through his belongings, Dungar hot on his heels.

“What are you doing, captain?!”

“Somebody needs to tangle with the creature, matey. Otherwise we’re all going to be fish chow.”

“And how do you intend to do that?”

Triumphantly, Nobeard pulled a pair of bandoliers out of the trunk at the foot of his bed. As he removed his coat and strapped them on, he turned back to Dungar. “There be much debate regarding which is mightier between pens and swords. I meself have always preferred bombs.”

Before Dungar could respond, Nobeard had darted out of the room and back to the stern of the ship where his hoisters awaited. Dutifully they fastened the end of the rope through the clasps on the captain’s bandoliers, and within seconds he was hoisted in the air, dangling in front of the giant fish and swinging gracefully back and forth.

“It’s a good thing ye are a sea dweller, ye slimy wastrel!” Nobeard shouted at the beast as he drew a grenade with each hand. “Because yer gonna be on an all soup diet when I’m done with ye!”

The second he finished his taunt, he hurled both bombs simultaneously into the immense jaws of the sea creature. Each bomb impacted a spot on one of the multiple rows of teeth, resulting in an explosion that splattered pulverized gum and fang in all directions. The monster roared with pain and blood continued to gush from the open wounds, but it spitefully continued its pursuit. The bubbling water coupled with the waves sent off by the swimming monster had caused the boat to rock even more violently than before. Waves crashed against the ship, showering all occupants with a shower of sea spray as the wind howled around them reducing the air to chilling temperatures.

The Polina now neared the narrow opening of the rocky Northward Passage of Doom. Once inside, they would be out of the tree’s reach. The wizard tree was surely aware of this, because the roots were starting to become more aggressive, latching onto the ship and striking crew members more frequently. Seeing the void that needed to be filled, Dungar retrieved Nobeard’s axe and picked up where the captain left off; darting about the ship chopping wood like a madman. Finally, a task that he was used to.

The roots were a lot tougher than the logs he was used to splitting. The axe would become lodged in them with each swing, and it took great effort to prevent the weapon from being yanked from his grasp. The recoiling roots didn’t make it any easier. Unlike earlier in the trip when he was bludgeoning fireballs, the roots soon learned to avoid him and instead attack other parts and personnel of the ship. The monster continued its pursuit as well, but with every lurch forward the ship made from a wave of water generated by the beast there was a resulting yell and explosion provided by Nobeard to keep the creature at bay.

The entrance to the passage was close now, less than a quarter of a league. The deck also looked rather empty from the crowd of sailors that had been on board when they first returned from the tree. He couldn’t help but wonder if they had simply retreated into hiding, or if as many had been wiped out as it appeared.

With a final swing of his axe, and a final end lopped off of a Wizard Tree root, the pirate ship entered the rocky confines of the Northward Passage of Doom. Huffing from the exertion of the trip, Dungar lowered his axe and leaned over the side of the boat to check the status of their pursuers. It appeared Nobeard’s efforts were not in vain as the backside of the ship remained uneaten.

The sea monster had pursued them all the way into the passage, but had become wedged in the narrow rocks of the entrance, effectively wedging the roots with it. The beast had almost no teeth left, the entirety of its jaws coated in a disgusting bloody pulp where the intimidating jowls once protruded. Its eyes also appeared to be virtually obliterated. Large black patches from explosions were visible on and around the eyelids that were swollen shut over each oculus. Slowly, the defeated creature sank back beneath the surface and into the lake depths.

Within moments Nobeard descended from his makeshift trapeze and met with Dungar on the deck to offer praise.

“Excellent work, lads!” He cheered at anyone who remained above deck. “We sure gave the bastards what for, eh?”

“Captain, we aren’t out of danger yet, are we?” Dungar asked rhetorically.

“Ah you landlubbers are all the same, thinking a passage be dangerous just because the word doom be in the title.”

“You told us yourself that it was dangerous …”

“Aye but it’s not named over that! Y’see, lad, many a year ago when this lake was filled by the tears of the sky, the stalwart Captain Guy Doom was the first to sail its expanse. He would routinely navigate this here passage to get to and from his varying destinations until the tragic day where it is said a giant ferocious fish descended from the sky and scuttled his schooner.” He stopped speaking briefly as he cocked his head to the side. “Now that I think about it, it may have been the very beastie we just fought. Hah, small sea eh?”

“… Is any of that true?” Dungar asked.

“Couldn’t tell ye, lad. Frankly I’ve already forgotten what I just said. The point I be trying to make is that we aren’t out of danger yet!”

“What? That was the point that I was trying to make!”

“Mista Dungar,” Jimminy interrupted. “Mista beardless here just informed us we’re all in danger! Now’s not the time to be arguing he said she said they saids!”

Dungar opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when he noticed another tentacle-like object reach over the side of the ship and affix itself to the deck using some sort of suction appendage. Noticing it as well, Nobeard quit his goofing with Dungar and turned serious again.

“They’re a-comin’, lads.”

“Wots a-comin’, mate?”

The owner of the tentacle’s head now appeared over the railing. It was the most hideous thing Dungar had ever seen in his life, which admittedly wasn’t saying much, but there was no other way to describe it. Its face was flat and perfectly circular, its slimy greenish brown skin gleaming in the light. A few dozen black and red eyes littered the creature’s face like acne, each of which looking independently in random directions. In addition to the long pale tentacles jutting from the creature, the head also had many long, hairy black feelers that waved creepily around, touching anything within reach. As it slowly moved into the deck, a low bassy rumble could be heard over the sloshing of the creature’s body.

Dungar, Jimminy, and the remaining pirate crew stood staring at the creature transfixed and unsure how to proceed. Fortunately Nobeard, always a man of action, leapt forward and booted the disgusting creature with one of his massive feet hard enough to drive it off the boat and into the rocks where gooey yellow blood splattered everywhere.

“That, me hearties, was what is known as a nopefish. They be slow-movin’ critters, but they got many tricks up their sleeves. Keep ‘em off the boat and whatever ye do, don’t slice ‘em open.”

All hands were on deck now, everyone huddled in the middle tentatively surveying the narrow passage that they slowly drifted through. The Northward Passage seemed to have been carved right into a mountain. It was a narrow channel, only a few paces between the ship and the tall rock wall on each side. The rock faces flanking them loomed menacingly like prison walls. They were a greyed blue color and had a very smooth and sheer surface, climbing up them would be all but impossible in the event the ship went down.

A thick fog hung in the air like an ominous haze. In the narrow channel wind was almost non-existent and only the current served to push the ship along its route. No one onboard made a sound; the only noises that could be heard in the silence were the labored breaths of terrified sailors and ominous creaking as the boat rocked back and forth. Every bump and jostle from the boat elicited a startled jump from the nerve addled sailors.

Three pairs of the tentacles silently emerged over the rails of the ship. Then another four as more and more fish began to siege the ship. Armed only with fear and whatever they could find, the surviving pirates charged the aquatic interlopers. A rhythm of battle cries and squelching noises could be heard as the sailors employed boxes, paddles, and other assorted pieces of metal and wood to repel the invaders.

Nobeard had disappeared below deck then re-emerged with an armful of cannonballs to throw at the fish, Jimminy wielded a large sea bass in each hand, and Dungar still possessed the axe he used to tangle with the tree roots. It was a grueling process, but their efforts were sufficient to keep the intruders at bay, at least for the time being. However, the nopefish numbers continued to grow. For every pair of tentacles Dungar severed with his axe, two more would appear over the same railing.

The battle of attrition was quite taxing on the pirates. The fish seemed like inherently easy opponents in the beginning, but their seemingly infinite numbers rendered them into a formidable force. Occasionally one of the creatures would make it up the side of the ship and close enough to reach a member of the crew. The sight of what death at the hands of a nopefish looked like is an image that will haunt Dungar for the rest of his days.

The poor sailor didn’t even see the creature coming until it was too late. Chef Gurdy was the lone cook aboard the Polina. Armed only with a rolling pin and a frying pan, he gallantly stepped up to the ship’s defense with everyone else. He never realized just how much of a mistake that course of action was until he found himself face to face with the red and black eyes of one of the creatures. The movements of a nopefish were slow and sluggish, but the feelers jutting from the beast’s face would strike with the swiftness of a snake.

Gurdy couldn’t even react as the feelers punctured his skin and bored deep inside him wherever they made contact. His screams and futile twitching as his innards were gutted served to further demoralize his shipmates. They watched in horror, helpless to save their chef lest they become victims themselves.

After the screams had silenced, and its victim fell limp, the nopefish retracted its feelers and let the perforated body of Chef Gurdy flop onto the deck. Slowly it dragged its slimy body across the deck, searching for more prey. Dungar wasn’t about to let that happen though. He raised his axe high over his head and rushed at the creature.

“No, lad, don’t!!” Nobeard bellowed frantically.

But his words fell upon deaf ears. Dungar was locked in on his target. Soon as he was within range he plunged the business end of his boarding axe into the cylindrical body of the nopefish. The beast immediately flopped onto the deck, dead. He removed his axe and looked around triumphantly at all the naysayers. However, they all remained gazing at him wearing terrified expressions.

“… What?” Dungar asked tentatively.

“Oh no!” One of the pirates called out. “Not the bees! NOT THE BEES!”

Dungar watched, baffled, as two crewmen sprinted to the nopefish body and attempted to throw it overboard. But before they made it, thousands of bees erupted from the axe wound and proceeded to swarm the deck.

“Everyone into the captain’s quarters NOW!” Nobeard commanded as he grabbed the petrified blacksmith by his arm and hauled him away.

The deck of the ship was in chaos as many of the seamen succumbed to panic and began swatting at the bees while others hurried over to the captain’s quarters. Everything that happened during these moments was a blur for Dungar. His mind was trapped in a state of horror and bewilderment at the ramifications of his action. If Nobeard hadn’t grabbed him he likely would have been left out on the deck where he could hear the cries of others.

Not a word was uttered by the dwellers of the room. The captain’s quarters was a small space designed for a maximum of two people to inhabit comfortably, but there was easily ten times that crammed inside now. The sounds of the chaos outside began to die down, leaving a frightening silence as every survivor’s mind imagined the scene on the other side of the door.

The defeated faces of his subordinates looked up at Nobeard solemnly. Few of them expressed much hope towards the situation at this point. Their fate was at the mercy of the vessel that housed them, and as such the burden of their salvation fell upon the shoulders of their captain.

“Alright look, lads.” Nobeard spoke softly into the room. “I shall be frank with ye. I haven’t any notions as to how to eradicate a nopefish infestation.”

“Am I the only one wondering how it’s anatomically possible to have a beehive in your belly?” Jimminy polled the group.

“Shut up, Jimmy.” Everyone in the room answered in unison.

“Wow that was perfectly in sync! Did you practice that just for me?”

“If we live through this, lad, we will have ourselves a discussion on the concept of time and place.” Nobeard informed Jimminy. “But fer now, I’m open to suggestions.”

Everyone looked around at each other nervously.

“Anyone?”

“I have an idea!” Jimminy announced.

Groans echoed throughout the room, but no one denied him the right to speak.

“Here’s wot we do. We construct an elaborate costume to disguise ourselves as being one of them! We then integrate ourselves into their society by setting up a small business to earn their trust. Through that small business we will develop a monopoly on whatever good or service that we provide. Then we will hike the prices to extortionate amounts so that they will be at our mercy! Then when they come to us begging for more manageable prices, we will all jump out and yell ‘surprise’! Then beat them to death with boat paddles!”

“Wow.” Nobeard commented. “I actually regret inviting outside ideas.”

A crash brought the group back into reality as the boat ran into one of the rock walls.

“Who’s driving this thing?!” Dungar asked, rubbing his head.

“Aw scallywags.” Nobeard said as he made a realization. “I forgot to fetch the helmsman! Welp, he’s probably dead now …”

“I’m right here.” A small voice near the wall called out.

Sure enough, there the frail pirate stood, alive as ever.

“Ye abandoned yer post, sailor?!”

“Can you blame me!?”

“Eh, not really I s’pose. We’re gonna need someone up there to take the left stream though.”

“Wot happens if you take the right stream?”

“We’ll end up sailing through a huge waterfall.”

“So?”

“I don’t know if you’ve ever seen what falling water can do to something, matey, but—”

Nobeard’s voice cut off as he raised his head and his eyes lit up. “—it just might be enough to work! Dungar, you and Jaunty come with me!

“Aye aye, captain! Where are we going?” Jimminy asked

“To the helm, ye dullard. Now I want the rest of ye to get as far below deck as ye can, otherwise yer in fer the shower of yer life. Now let’s get a move on.”

Nobeard burst out the door with Dungar and Jimminy on his heels. The deck was infested with nopefish wriggling all over the place. There we so many that some were crawling on top of others. All of their heads turned to the door once it burst open. Nobeard punted the nearest one several feet into the air before addressing his assistants.

“To the helm, mateys!”

Kicking the occasional fish out of the way, the trio weaved their way to the helm ladder and clambered up it faster than they had ever ascended a ladder before. Dungar continued to use the blunt end of his axe to club the creatures out of the way, careful not to repeat the same mistake as last time. Before long they had cleared the helm, but the creatures continued to ascend and the fight turned into a matter of holding them off until they reached the fork in the distance.

Nobeard motioned to Jimminy. “Man the helm, lad, we’ll keep the bastards at bay.”

With boot and bludgeon, Dungar and Nobeard hammered the nopefishes as they crept over the banisters until the tell-tale sound of crashing water alerted them that their destination was near.

“We’re en route to suicide, captain!” Jimminy called out.

“Expert steerin’, lad! Let’s get outta here, mateys.”

After a final swing of his axe, Dungar hopped the rail with Nobeard and they landed back on the deck. They could hear the sound of the crashing falls creeping closer as they raced to the staircase leading to the lower decks below the captain’s quarters. Nobeard ripped the trapdoor open so viciously it nearly came off its hinges.

“Come on, Jimmy!” Dungar bellowed to his comrade.

“I’m a-comin, mate!” Jimminy yelled back, hurrying across the deck. Agilely, he zigzagged through the crowd of nopefish, deftly hopping over outstretched tentacles and dodging feelers.

The waterfall was dangerously close now. As the ship hit the churning embroilment where the falls met the channel, brutal vibrations reverberated through the wooden ship, knocking all the men off their feet. Dungar and Nobeard had railings to hang onto, but Jimminy was not so lucky. Soon as the tremors hit the ship, his body hit the deck. He had just enough time to groan, roll over, and look up at the cascade bearing down on him.

Dungar was frozen in place as he watched it all unfold. He could see what was coming, but was powerless to stop it. The last thing he heard before the destruction hit was the sound of Jimminy’s voice.

“Oh, blimey …”

Mere moments after the man uttered the words, a devastating torrent of water smashed onto the deck and obliterated all in its path. Dungar and Jimminy caught one last glimpse of each other before everything left above deck was crushed by the rapids.