Sword at the ready, Jendara risked a look around the corner. The creatures had paused in front of a doorway she hadn’t noticed on the last glance. A few of them worked together to carry something heavy and bound in a net, but the others bunched up too closely for her to make out what they held. The leader of the group, a creature with a purple sea star dangling from an ornate circlet of woven seaweed on its brow, stepped aside. Two more of the fish-folk hurried forward to scrabble at the doorway. Jendara couldn’t make out exactly what they were doing, but the soft scuff of rock on rock suggested prying open a difficult door. The pair disappeared inside the building.
She leaned back around the corner. “Get down,” she hissed at Vorrin. “Don’t go in front of the open door.”
She took another glance and saw the other creatures making their way inside. Beckoning to Vorrin, Jendara crouched beside the open doorway on this side of the building. The creatures couldn’t be seen, although their voices murmured faintly in the darkness.
“Get the others moving,” she whispered. “I’ll keep an eye on the fish-folk.”
He opened his mouth and closed it, trusting her instincts. He crept away. Jendara hesitated a moment. She could just stay put, listening carefully. Or she could make her way into the building and get more information about the creatures. They didn’t look like adventurers. Besides the big package, none of them had carried large weapons or any rope or tools.
She glanced over her shoulder at her crew. They had managed to move the column a few feet closer to the staircase, and now Vorrin was lending a hand. However they’d rigged it, the process was surprisingly quiet. Jendara peered into the dark building. She could just make out a faint blue glow in the depths of the place.
They needed to know more. She slipped inside.
Rubble filled a front room that might have been a foyer or something similar. No door closed it off from the next space, so Jendara kept low and crept forward. Sunshine lit the square of the doorway, leaving the rest of the chamber in darkness. There were no windows. The air felt thick and damp, and the smell of seaweed and dying shellfish hung heavily in the motionless air. The voices sounded louder up ahead.
Creeping cautiously, she felt more than saw that the room opened onto a hallway. To Jendara’s left, a sliver of light revealed the door that the fish-folk had come through. The blue glow was stronger now, spilling out into the hallway ahead. Jendara moved a little faster. The creatures’ chanting had built to an eerie bass rumbling she could feel in her chest.
Something squished beneath her boot and she slid sideways, just catching herself. She froze, certain she’d been heard, but the chanting continued uninterrupted. She moved closer.
The creatures, thirteen of them, stood in a circle outlined by glass bubbles—perhaps fishing floats—filled with a cold, aquamarine light. The creatures’ hulking shapes looked even broader and more awkward up close. Their sloping faces with needlelike teeth reminded Jendara of the fish she’d seen brought up in the deepest of the deep sea nets. These were not creatures of light and air, but of the ocean’s darkest trenches.
The leader fell to its knees, webbed hands uplifted. Its voice rose in pitch and volume, the tones piercing Jendara’s ears.
Jendara stiffened. The package they’d been carrying lay in front of the creature, a soft-looking heap in the blue-tinged shadows, and now she noticed the neatly triangular dorsal fin pointing at the ceiling, the round, smooth forehead stretched toward her.
A dolphin. Its flipper gave a weak twitch, and Jendara bit her lip to stopper her rage. The cheerful animals had swum beside her ship too many times for her not to feel a sense of kinship with the one lying on the floor. It must be in torment above the water.
One of the fish-folk stepped forward, holding out a finely wrought dagger made entirely of some white material like bone or ivory. Jendara held her breath, admiring the blade’s astonishing workmanship. The creature bowed low to the leader and backed away.
The chanting picked up speed. The leader raised the white dagger over its head and sang out a resounding tone. Then it plunged the dagger into the dolphin’s side.
The dolphin jerked and twitched. It gave a tiny whistle and slapped its flipper on the ground. The leader of the fish-folk ripped the dagger from the animal’s side and drove it down again.
Jendara turned away, hurrying back through the hallway toward the light. She didn’t know what the fish-folk were or why they were here on this island, but she knew a sacrifice when she saw one. And whatever undersea gods these creatures worshiped, she doubted they would look kindly on land-dwellers like herself.
The crew had reached the top of the stairs. Sweat ran down Vorrin’s face, and Boruc stood rubbing his back. Glayn hurried toward Jendara.
“What did you see?”
“Some kind of fish-men.” She saw the look on Sarni’s face and hurried to clarify. “Not ulat-kini—something I’ve never seen before.”
“Do you think they’re dangerous?” Vorrin asked.
“I’d bet on it. They’re big, as tall as any of us, and they’ve got mean claws and teeth. The ones I saw were sacrificing a dolphin in some kind of ritual, so I’m guessing they’re priests. I wouldn’t want a run-in with one of their fighters.”
“Let’s get this downstairs, then,” Vorrin ordered.
“And fast,” Jendara suggested, taking a place at the ropes.
“Careful of the railings,” Boruc warned. “Don’t want to bring the stairs down on us.”
“Right.” Glayn took a place beside Jendara. “One … two…”
“Three.”
They all pulled together. Jendara felt the column roll slowly onto the first step and sit solidly.
“Easy now,” Tam said. “Get behind it and push just a little so it stays under control. One step at a time.” Everyone shifted positions.
“One … two…”
“Three.”
The column landed on the second step with a thud, just as Tam had planned, but Boruc’s gasp warned her something wasn’t right. For a second, she thought he would be fine, but the slick spot on the top stair, the very one he’d pointed out to her when they’d ascended, threw him off balance. He slid forward, his big boot striking the precariously balanced column.
“Boruc!”
She grabbed for his hand, catching him before he fell.
Glayn shouted as the rope went taut in his hands. The column broke free of their grip and bounced down hard, smashing into the steps, breaking off streamers of seaweed and bits of gold inlay. The stairs began to shake.
“Run!” Jendara bellowed.
They raced down the shaking stairs, slipping and skidding on the wet seaweed the column left behind it. A grumbling filled the air.
The column hit the railing and punched through, smashing down onto the ground below with a terrible crash. With a drawn-out screech, the flagstones gave way, blocks of stone tearing free of the shuddering staircase.
Jendara leaped down the last of the stairs and hit the ground running. Tam passed her, towing Glayn behind him. Jendara searched around wildly.
“Vorrin!”
The smashing of stone overpowered any response he might have made.
The crew came to a stop in the purple-lit boulevard, just past the entrance to the Star Chapel. They were somehow all there, from trembling Sarni to ash-pale Zuna. Vorrin reached for Jendara’s hand and gripped it hard. She pulled him close to her side, whispering a prayer of gratitude to the ancestors that he had survived the destruction.
The grand staircase was no longer. Four or five stairs remained at its base, but the destruction of the railing had taken the middle of the stairway with it. Piles of broken white stone lay around the edge of a vast open pit.
Grit pattered down from the plaza above, the only sound besides their ragged breathing. Jendara spat out a mouthful of stone dust.
“Everyone all right?”
“Not a scratch,” Vorrin said, his voice shaky. “A rock the size of a man came a hair’s breadth from braining you, and you don’t have a scratch.”
Jendara rubbed her head absently. “I didn’t notice. I was looking for you.”
“Our fortune,” Sarni whispered.
Jendara let go of Vorrin’s hand and walked to the edge of the chasm where the stairs had been.
“Careful,” Vorrin warned.
She considered stepping a little closer and pulled back her foot. There was no trusting this floor now. She rose up on her tiptoes to see better into the big hole.
“I think I see it,” she said. The light from the stairwell barely penetrated the pit, but she could see bits of pale-colored stone down below. “There’s another level, and the column’s just sitting there. In pieces, of course.”
Sarni’s face lit up. “Maybe we can get it back!”
“I did see that other stairway,” Vorrin pointed out.
Jendara’s mind began spinning a plan. The column was only one floor down—it couldn’t take them that long to find it. They’d get the column and retreat quietly.
“Let’s get out of here before those fish-things come check out the noise,” she said. “We’ll hide the Milady from the ulat-kini and come up with a real plan.”
“That’s the spirit.” Tam grinned at her. “I’ve always wanted to be rich.”
The group began to hurry away from the pit and the Star Chapel. Vorrin waited for Jendara. He suddenly stooped and picked a rock up from the ground.
“For you,” he said, holding out his find.
A ruby the size of his eye sat on his palm. Jendara gave him a kiss and slid the ruby into the bottom of her belt pouch.
For a moment she thought of the dolphin’s blood, ruby red on the blade of the white dagger. She pushed away the vision.
“Come on,” she said. “We’ve got to make sure our ship and our boy are all right.”
* * *
The Milady sat untouched and cheerful in the afternoon sunshine. Jendara left the others to haul anchor and sort out ideas about finding and moving their fallen treasure; she was more concerned about the incoming ulat-kini and that black merchant ship.
She caught Sarni’s eye. The teenager looked as bored by the conversation going on around her as Jendara would have been at her age. “Why don’t you and I go do a little scouting?”
Jendara had Sarni ready the dinghy while she briefed Vorrin on her plan, pointedly ignoring Kran, who was sitting beside his stepfather. She still wanted to turn him over her knee and spank him like a toddler, but knew he’d outgrown that years ago. His punishment would come to her soon enough.
She offered Sarni a strip of jerky and settled into the dinghy, letting the girl row. Sarni moved the oars slowly, slipping them into the water with all the stealth the former thief could give them.
They kept close to the rocks jutting out from the base of the island as they headed north. The island was quiet, save for the soft whistling of the wind in the rocks. The sound was no less eerie out here than it had been in the sea cave.
“Let’s move a little farther out from this headland,” Jendara instructed. “But keep low.”
They rounded the largest outcropping of weed-slicked rocks, and Jendara brought out her spyglass. She could see creatures moving in the water at the northern tip of the island, swimming between floating boxes and the ugly ulat-kini craft. The big black ship sat closer to the shore, partially obscured by the many rocks between it and Jendara’s dinghy.
“Know your enemy like a friend,” she murmured.
“What?”
“It’s what my father would have said if he were here. He was a firm believer in the importance of scouting everything out in advance. If he’d been in charge of this operation, he probably would have found a way to climb to the highest spire and get an aerial view of the island before we ever set foot on the ground.”
Sarni eased them a little closer.
“All right,” Jendara whispered. “Let’s stop here where we blend in with those rocks up ahead. Just be quiet.” She brought the spyglass to her eye.
The ulat-kini had begun assembling a floating dock at the tip of the island. Jendara couldn’t recognize the material they used. They unloaded it from the floating boxes, so it had to be light, but the structure they’d created seemed far more stable than a simple floating dock. Ulat-kini scurried across the platform without it noticeably dipping or swaying. The black ship sat beside the dock, its gangplank crawling with figures both ulat-kini and human. Or Jendara guessed them human, anyway. At this distance, even with the spyglass, it was hard to make out details besides the black robes and turbans. The mysterious crew shrouded even their faces in black scarves.
“What do you see?” Sarni whispered.
Jendara handed her the spyglass. “So far, they’re just building a dock.”
Sarni leaned forward as if the extra few inches could clarify her view. “They’re bringing out some massive crates. Looks like they’re full of more black stuff.” She paused. “Now they’re taking ladders out of the crates and putting them together. Black ladders.”
“They’re going to climb up to the top of the city.” Jendara bit her lip. “Can I see that again?”
Sarni returned the glass. Jendara fixed it on the nearest small boat, an ugly scow built out of what was clearly flotsam. She’d never seen a more haphazard vessel. A group of ulat-kini stood on board, as well as one of the black-turbaned travelers. The ulat-kini looked normal for their kind. Each stood about Jendara’s own height, with legs and arms very much like a human’s, but they clearly depended on their long tails to help them balance upright—their broad, fishlike heads and spiny dorsal fins would otherwise overbalance them. They wore no clothes, although several wore simple belts woven from seaweed, and all were armed with tridents or clubs.
However, one of the ulat-kini wore an elaborate headpiece—not quite a crown, but more of a miter. The creature gestured broadly as it leaned toward the turbaned figure. Clearly they discussed something of great importance.
She had a feeling the group wasn’t here for a simple treasure hunt. She thought of the fish-folk in that dark house in the city above. Did the island hold some religious significance to the people of the sea? And would that put the crew in more danger or less, should they encounter these creatures?
Her father would have encouraged a retreat and more scouting before moving on. Or else he’d have recommended a swift run for the treasure followed by a quicker retreat. But this was Jendara’s call.
She could only trust her gut.
Jendara turned her attention to the ulat-kini on the floating dock. Two of the fish-men struggled to snap together two shorter sections of ladder. They weren’t making much progress.
She frowned. “I don’t understand why they’re settling here on the north end of the island without even scouting out a better location, but I’m guessing it’ll take them at least a day to get settled in.”
And thus her mind was made up: the swift run with fast escape.
“Let’s get back to the others and tell them we’ve got twenty-four hours, maybe, before we have to start worrying about ulat-kini trouble.”
Sarni hesitated. “And the turbaned folk?”
Jendara glanced back at the ship. Her eyes widened. “The black ship is already raising anchor. That’s good news, I think.”
“If they don’t head toward our cave.”
“Good point.” They waited a moment, watching the black ship. The big vessel began to slowly head north, away from the cave and the Milady. Jendara checked the sun. They had maybe two hours of daylight left. She beckoned for Sarni to begin rowing.
The girl rowed stealthily for a minute or two. She opened her mouth twice, but each time changed her mind before she managed to speak.
“Is something wrong?” Jendara looked closely at Sarni’s face. She’d never seen the girl so withdrawn.
“No,” Sarni answered.
Jendara raised her eyebrow. “Can’t you at least try to sound like you mean that?”
Sarni gave a weak chuckle and looked down at her knees. “Look, you know I was raised by thieves. That’s because ulat-kini took my mother when I was six.” She went quiet.
“That’s why you were so upset when we saw the ulat-kini this morning.”
Sarni nodded. “I’d always heard the stories—ulat-kini, the scum of the sea. Parents used ’em to scare their little ones—‘Don’t go out at night, or the ulat-kini’ll get you.’” She spat over the side of the dinghy. “Turns out the stories are true.”
Jendara studied the girl as she rowed. Sarni had fixed her face in a tight, hard expression, arms moving in powerful strokes. Jendara knew that feeling—trying to overcome sadness with anger and action. Losing her own her family to a barbarian attack had been part of what led Jendara to piracy.
They reached the sea cave just as the Milady slipped inside, like a fish swimming into the mouth of a massive shark. Jendara rubbed the gray spot on the back of her hand. She hoped their hiding place was good enough to keep them safe from the ulat-kini and the other mysterious fish-folk. She’d been excited about taking her friends on an adventure, but this island was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth.