CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
They went out past the metalith of the stonehorn, who watched them, solitary upon its plain of snow, rock and shattered metal, bellowing a lonely challenge to the ships as they fared by.
‘He got out of that hole then. By Grungni, those things are tough!’ said Kedren approvingly.
‘I feel sorry for him,’ said Otherek.
Drekki rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I’m not sure I do. I still can’t look left very easily after that ride he gave us.’
‘Come on, he’s all alone down there. You can’t be all alone forever.’ Otherek shot the captain a meaningful look.
‘A subtle jibe I see. I’m not alone, shipmate,’ he said. ‘I’ve got all you lot, haven’t I?’ He gave Otherek a comradely punch on the arm, then winced. ‘Ooh, it’s going to take a while for my bruises to fade.’
‘You know what they say, Drekki,’ said Otherek. ‘Nabok nai, nuf galaz.’[69]
‘Ain’t that Valaya’s own truth,’ Drekki said.
They moored themselves above the metalith. After some time with his charts, Drekki declared that the shockwave of the explosion had pushed it out of what was left of the Dead Air. Which wasn’t much, in truth. Barak-Minoz’s destruction had blasted most of the metaliths around it into pieces too small to keep themselves airborne. Their destruction had liberated an amount of aether, which formed itself into a spiral vortex around whatever hole in reality hid at the centre of the cursed place. There was heated debate again on the matter of staking a claim. Once more, the more cautious voices won out.
After that, Bokko and Drekki spent most of that time arguing how best to repair the krontanker’s broken endrins, for although it no longer had its tanks full of aether, the salvage claim on the vessel itself was worth a small fortune. Fears they might have to leave it proved unfounded. As always, Drekki came up with a way to make the thing fly, at least as far as Barak-Thrund.
‘And don’t forget the refined gold we’ve got in the hold, lads!’ Drekki reminded them, when they began to grumble.
Repairs went on for three days. Duzrekar’s deadline for the departure of the Dead Air came and went. On the day it should have vanished, Hrunki Tordis came to Drekki with a request that made him smile.
‘Now?’ he said. ‘It would be my absolute pleasure.’
It was with a spring in his step that Drekki left the cabin, and announced to the crew that they would be holding a barazdawi.[70]
Bokko knocked on the door of Drekki’s cabin with his heart in his mouth. It didn’t matter that his endrineer’s badges shone on his chest, or that his gear had been cleaned and polished to a high shine. He felt as nervous as a beardling going before an elder for a telling off. More so, because it wasn’t any elder in Drekki’s cabin. The captain had let Khenna get changed in his quarters for propriety’s sake.
‘Come in!’ she called.
Bokko opened the door. His head buzzed weirdly when he saw her. He came close to passing out.
Instead of her usual arkanaut’s regalia, Khenna wore a dress of sky blue. In his opinion, it made her eyes shine as bright as brynthiman,[71] so beautiful he could barely bring himself to look into them. Her pale skin was as soft as clouds. Her freckles scattered her cheeks like jewelled birds. Her long braids framed her pretty face, and her sweet, upturned nose…
Khenna cleared her throat loudly and cocked an eyebrow.
‘You look beautiful,’ he mumbled. Bokko felt himself blush from his feet to the roots of his hair, and he stared at the deck between his toes, crippled with embarrassment. ‘I made this for you.’ He stepped forward as awkwardly as if someone had welded his knees together. He held out a cloth-covered present. ‘Sorry about the wrapping, we’re a bit short of fancy stuff aboard.’
The cloth rustled as she unwrapped the gift. She gave a little gasp.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said. ‘You made this just for me?’
Bokko trembled. ‘Yes, er, um. It’s a memento, of this voyage. It’s supposed to be Ramarius, you know, and all the things that happened to us… Ahem. It’s, er, it’s not very good really…’
Grungni alive, he thought, if he could melt into a puddle of ale, he’d take that option over continuing the conversation.
‘I can see what it is.’ Khenna put her broad duardin fingers under his chin. Bokko shook more. Such clever fingers. The fingers of the very finest of fine silversmiths, he thought.
‘Bokko, look at me,’ she said, lifting up his head, so that he had no choice but to look into her eyes. ‘It is exquisite.’ She held his gift gently. It was a representation of the sky drake, perfectly incised runes running around his coils, telling the story of the voyage.
‘It’s a very fine konk,’[72] he said. ‘I’ve had it for ages. I’ve been saving for… I… I didn’t know what I was saving it for, but…’ His mouth was suddenly very, very dry. ‘I suppose I was saving it for you,’ he said lamely.
The gold reflected light from the portholes of Drekki’s cabin up into Khenna’s face. When she smiled in that light, it was the most marvellous sight he had ever seen.
‘Oh, Bokko,’ she said, and flung her arms around his neck. He stood stiff as a board, then patted her back awkwardly.
‘You’re, um, welcome.’
‘Now, this is more than just a gold-memory, isn’t it? Is this a…’ Now it was her turn to blush. ‘A sollengav?’[73]
Bokko thought his cheeks couldn’t have burned any hotter. ‘If you want it to be,’ Bokko managed to say. He paused. ‘Do you want it to be?’ he asked shyly.
She nodded hard, little tears of happiness gathering at the corner of her eyes.
‘I do. Very much.’
Bokko grinned. He felt like he did when he’d had the best of ales, only much, much better.
Someone knocked loudly at the door.
‘I don’t know what you’re up to in there,’ shouted Drekki.
‘I’ve got a good idea,’ Urdi said. There was muffled laughter from outside at his joke. The crew’s attitude to him was warming again.
‘We’re ready for you now,’ said Drekki.
‘Come on,’ said Bokko. His hand found its way into Khenna’s, and he led her out onto the deck.
The whole crew was there, everyone, their gear repaired and polished up, standing in a loose semicircle in the middle of the deck. They were clutching metal tankards, and from the flush-cheeked jollity evident on every face, they’d been emptied and filled up more than a few times already. Umherth waited on his own at the back of the turret, leaning on a crutch. Even he’d combed his beard. Drekki went to his side. Uzki passed him a tankard of foaming ale. Trokwi sat on Drekki’s shoulder, bits of his wing all shiny with new parts.
‘All right, everyone!’ Drekki cried. ‘Pipe down now.’ The crew’s quiet conversation ceased. ‘You all know why we’re here. Umherth,’ he said, slapping the oldbeard on the back, ‘has decided to make an honest kvinn of our dear old Hrunki Tordis.’ He grinned. ‘Or was it her that decided to make an honest dawi out of you?’
There were shouts of a ribald nature, and laughter.
‘Either way, I’m glad to preside over your union together as stipulated under the Code, captain’s responsibilities and duties, blah blah…’ He waved a hand. ‘Go and look it up if you want. We’ve all known these two for many, many years, and some might say it’s about time they did this, rather than pretending there was nothing going on between them.’
More laughter.
‘So let’s get on with it! Khenna’s very kindly agreed to be Valaya’s Maid to Tordis. Well,’ said Drekki, ‘she is the only other kvinn aboard, and Gord certainly wouldn’t have suited. But thank you, Khenna. Who is looking lovely today.’
Khenna curtseyed.
‘Bokko thinks so!’ Locklann shouted.
You could feel the heat coming off Bokko half a raadfathom away.
Drekki nodded to Adrimm, who waited by the door leading below. He swung it open with a flourish. Hrunki stepped out, also in a dress, which was a massive surprise to everyone, even though they were expecting it. Her hair was held up in a fan by spikes of silver and gold. In her hands she held a bouquet of flowers made of silver especially for the occasion. The crew’s rowdiness quietened, partly because not one of them really thought of Hrunki as a kvinn, yet here she was, looking as dazzling as a fresh aether prospect. Trokwi peeped a passable rendition of Algrim Klinvakar’s famous marital tune, the Skarrenbarazdawi, as she approached the groom.
They stood facing each other until Trokwi hit the high notes of Dronk’s old classic, and the music ceased.
‘Are you two ready to lash your ships together and depart forever on the same course?’ said Drekki.
‘Aye, captain, we should have done this a while ago. Nothing like getting injured to focus your heart on what’s important.’ Umherth coughed. ‘I mean, what’s important besides gold.’
‘Hrunki?’
‘I’ll have what’s left of him, that’s for sure, till the end of my days.’
‘Right then. Let’s do it!’ Drekki said.
‘Hrunki-ha! Umherth-ha!’ the crew shouted. Gord bellowed.
The ceremony was short. Kharadron don’t put a lot of weight on fancy words, but – like all duardin everywhere from the beginning of time – afterwards, they got spectacularly drunk.
Night fell with no risk of the dead stirring, and the crew drank and sang.
Evrokk stepped away from the circle of duardin, who were clapping Gord’s attempts to dance. Which were, to be fair, quite impressive, though every step of the ogor’s huge feet made the ship boom like a metal drum.
He went to the trestle table set up beneath the forward endrin, and refilled his drink, and picked up a second tankard. Then he crossed over the gangplank and on to the krontanker, still moored to the side of the Aelsling.
The tanker was so much bigger than the Aelsling, but it took no time at all to find what he was looking for. The sounds of the party faded behind him, forced to compete with the whistle of the cold wind blowing through the girders.
Evtorr was at the stern, close to one of the massive endrins for warmth. He was cloaked, the hood drawn up, and hunched over the railing, facing back towards the Dead Air.
‘Evtorr,’ Evrokk said.
‘Hello?’ said the other timidly.
‘It’s me. Evrokk,’ he said.
‘Oh.’ Evtorr relaxed, and went back to looking out over the sky.
‘You weren’t at the party.’
‘I find the noise hard to deal with,’ Evtorr said. He sounded calmer than at any time since he had returned; more like himself, Evrokk thought, which encouraged him, but it was worrying that the mania in his brother’s voice had been replaced with a weary sadness.
Evrokk nodded. ‘What are you doing back here?’ he asked carefully. ‘Trying to get some peace?’
‘Not really. I was looking at where I have been.’ He turned back towards Evrokk. ‘I don’t really remember, you see, falling into the Eye. I don’t remember anything. I wonder what I saw there.’ His voice went quieter. ‘I wonder what I did. I wonder what happened to me. Duzrekar went through.’ Evtorr looked at his brother pleadingly. ‘He was bad, but he didn’t go mad. Why did I?’
The pain in Evtorr’s words made Evrokk sad. He smiled sympathetically, and held out the second tankard. ‘I brought you some ale.’
Evtorr took it.
‘Thank you… brother.’
Evrokk felt a rush of relief. ‘You remember now?’
‘You’re my brother. Of course I remember.’
‘You didn’t before.’ Evrokk sat down, and let his feet dangle through the railing over the long drop to nowhere.
‘It’s coming back,’ said Evtorr. ‘When I came to myself and realised I’d been locked in, then with the gheists and the explosion… I began to remember then.’ He took a drink. ‘This ale is good!’ He cleared his throat. ‘I… I hope I wasn’t too annoying.’
Evrokk took a long pull of beer and shrugged. ‘No more so than usual.’
Evtorr chuckled, and for the first time in a long time it was clean of the taint of madness.
They drank in companionable silence for a while. Just as they were getting to the bottom of their tankards, a flash to the rear of the boat drew their attention.
‘Look at that!’ said Evtorr.
A series of pulses followed, each brighter than the last, until light flooded the heavens, turning the snowy plains of the stonehorn’s metalith into the likeness of a hard white-and-black painting. Another flash then, which somehow seemed to reverse, to be sucked in. There was a performance of lightning way down, in what they took to be the centre of the Dead Air.
‘The realmgate,’ Evrokk said.
Another flash, then a tremendous boom of displaced atmosphere, and a rush of violent wind that rocked the boats as it raced in to replace the stolen patch of sky.
Where the Dead Air had been was clear sky, surrounded by a spreading corona of debris, and a faint mist of aether, but everything else, the wrecks, the metaliths, the lost lives and the stories they might have told, had gone without a trace.
The next day came. Drekki was up before nearly everyone else, most of whom were still so stupefied by ale they’d be dead to the world past noon.
He had the pleasantly uncomfortable muzzy feeling that spoke of a night well spent. His intention was to check the ship over, for he was going to order their departure later that day, but a straggle of conversation from the prow drew his feet that way instead. There, he found Kedren, Otherek and Adrimm looking out at the dawn.
‘Quite a sight, ain’t it?’ said Otherek round the stem of his pipe. ‘Nothing like a Hyshrise filtered through aether. Shame there’s not much left, and what is is already drifting away.’
‘It’s like the Dead Air was never there,’ said Adrimm.
‘I suppose that’s why people never find it,’ said Drekki.
‘You did,’ said Otherek. ‘You did it, captain, found the Dead Air, found Barak-Minoz, and what happened to it.’
‘You might say he saved the day again,’ said Kedren heavily. ‘Bravo.’ He wasn’t being entirely sarcastic.
Drekki nodded and tapped his forefinger on the rail. ‘Another fine Drekki Flynt adventure. I look forward to hearing everyone getting it wrong in the tavern next time we’re in port.’
‘Do stories matter that much, when you’ve got gold?’ said Kedren. ‘For once, we’re rich too.’
Adrimm looked miserably at the krontanker, and its notable lack of tanks.
‘Not that rich,’ he moaned.
‘Fair-weather!’ they all scolded at once.
‘There’s another thing,’ Drekki said thoughtfully.
‘Which is?’
‘All that material went into the Eye, all of it came out. Evtorr came out. Duzrekar and that monkey came out.’
‘You’re thinking of your father and brothers again.’
Drekki nodded. ‘Maybe they’re not dead either. You have to ask yourself, if the Eye of Testudinous is really just a massive realmgate, where in the realms does it go?’
An expression passed across his face, as if he’d just had a very good idea, but it was studied, staged, and they all knew he’d been thinking of this in advance. Before he could open his mouth to speak, Kedren shook his head.
‘You’re going to ask us to go into the Eye.’
‘But…’ said Drekki.
Kedren’s hand shot up and he flapped it quickly. ‘Save it for later. We need a rest. The ship’s had a hard time. We have to sell this gold, get the ship patched up. Maybe find some more crew. Let us enjoy this victory, live a little, go spend our shares.’
‘Or invest them,’ said Adrimm.
‘Not everyone’s as boring as you, Adrimm,’ said Otherek.
‘So that’s not a no?’ said Drekki.
‘It’s not a yes either,’ said Kedren.
‘Very good, my duardin,’ Drekki said graciously. ‘You carry on. Enjoy your rest, and when the others sober up, we’ll set our course for home.’
‘Poot,’ said Trokwi. Now that they could all agree with.