The Key of Amatahns

  ***

  The mazag were relentless in their pursuit, but Lucan was just as relentless in his flight. By dawn, there was no sign of the irregular shapes and sulking scales. Still, Janir had no doubt that they would be back and soon.

  The clicks and clacks of the one who had spoken to her at the caverns echoed in her mind. That creature had been sentient, that creature had been determined, willing to die, even. She couldn’t help but believe that these would be the same.

  But a new threat loomed on the horizon. Clouds the color of coal lined the sky in the direction they were headed. Nature itself might have been steering them from the Rivellis Peninsula, but Lucan did not heed such warnings. The skiff jolted along on the wind, a wind that seemed dangerously strong to Janir, but she had never been out to sea before. Perhaps it was normal?

  She caught the flicker of lightning bolts in the dark clouds. Those were not normal, even she knew that. In spite of foul weather, Lucan did not let the crew rest. Two more sailors had rebelled against him since the captain and they had both been swiftly done away with. The remainder had learned from the mistakes of their compatriots and deemed it best for their health not to question the temperamental Argetallam.

  Lucan stared at the stormy horizon with a set jaw and a stubborn outlook. He would keep going until he succeeded or it killed him. Or killed all of them, for that matter.

  As they drew nearer to the storm, the sea became quieter and quieter. Janir twisted to see over the prow of the ship. The storm was coming at them, closer, ever closer, advancing like a host of furious warriors.

  Lucan didn’t let them stop. He pushed them on despite protests from the sailors and a few from his men. By now, even the Argetallams seemed afraid of him. No one was quite sure what he would do anymore and it appeared no one was quite brave enough to attempt mutiny.

  In the distance, there was a sharp wailing, the screaming of the wind. Thunder rumbled like the stomach of a hungry beast, lightning split the sky. Pitch black clouds masked the sun and swept in for the kill.

  The wall of rain, wind, and thunder hit them like a wave of bricks. The unnatural wind snapped the mast in two as if it were fashioned of twigs and the rain pinned Janir to the deck. Lucan was bellowing commands, the waves splashed over the ship, the sailors were shouting and two of them were swept overboard.

  Exactly what happened next, she couldn’t tell for the heavy torrents of rain. She could hardly breathe without taking in water, couldn’t open her eyes without having them flooded with rain.

  “Hold onto each other!” Saoven yelled.

  Karile clung to her in the near darkness and Saoven was somewhere to her left with an arm behind her back, gripping Karile. A fresh wave swept over the deck and Janir was suddenly grateful that she was chained down as the force threatened to drag her over the other side.

  She thought her wrists would snap off, but the wave receded into the sea and she found she was still in one piece. The three captives coughed and spat out sea water—fishy, salty, and slimy all at the same time and cold, icy cold.

  The ship heaved, rising upon a wave and then smashing downward with a terrific splash. As the ship went into the air, Janir lifted above the ship, connected to it only by the chains on her wrists. As it went down, she and the other two slammed into the hardened wood.

  Rain blinded her. She tried to bat the water away, but no sooner had she done that then more poured from the sky to replace it.

  “This rots!” Karile screamed, and she only heard that because her ear had ended up in front of his mouth.

  She jerked away from his shrieking and slammed into Saoven’s lip with the back of her head. “Sorry!”

  There was a muffled sound of acknowledgement from the elf and then another wave hit. Again it tried to drag them into the sea, drown them in its frigid embrace.

  Karile was whining, but she didn’t care. There was something wet and slimy on her neck, probably seaweed, but she couldn’t help fear it was some poisonous ocean creature.

  She’d lost sight of Lucan and the others. They could be struggling to keep the skiff upright, swept overboard, or huddling below deck for all she knew.

  The skiff reared, jumbling her and the other two in a frantic pile before smashing into the water. Janir thought perhaps she had landed with her cheek on Saoven’s chest, but they were launched upwards again a moment later.

  The cold water had numbed her sore wrists, but she hated not being able to feel Karile clenching her arm. She had to open her eyes in the downpour and look for him. He was still there, a blurry pile of robe and legs hunched beside her. Each of them kept clinging to the others, as if they could save themselves if they just stayed together.

  How long had this been going on? A few minutes? An hour? Days? She lost track of time as they fought to keep a grip on one another. That was her only focus—holding onto the elf and the enchanter. A creaking, scraping, tearing pierced above the roar of the storm.

  “That can’t be good!” Karile shouted.

  The skiff was flung like rubble out of a catapult, higher and higher. It was going to be very painful when they came down, Janir thought.

  SMASH!

  It was very painful. The craft struck the water and they were flung across the deck, their chains ripped free, and Janir was being thrown from the ship, into the tossing waves. She struggled against the current and felt Saoven thrashing beside her. Blindly, Janir groped in the wet darkness for Karile, but she couldn’t find him. Saoven and Janir managed to get their heads above water, but something pulled them back into a wave.

  In spite of her struggling, the salt water was over her head, choking her very existence. The thought crossed her mind of how devastated Armandius would be. How she hoped he would be alright, that he would—why did Saoven have to come for her? Why did he have to be captured, too? And Karile—

  The current pulled at the wrist Karile had been chained to. She struggled, trying to get him out of the current. What was that? Were her feet touching something? With a start, Janir realized her feet were hitting rocks. Was she dreaming? Was this some pre-mortem hallucination?

  The rain gradually began to thin, and between waves Janir saw she was stumbling after a short figure in a wildly flapping robe. Karile had dragged them into the waves to get them to shore. As if an invisible hand had just shoved back a curtain, they were out of the brutal rain.

  One last wave rose out of the water and charged after the bedraggled castaways. It struck Janir’s back, driving her onto a beach. She crashed into sand and felt the individual grains grinding into her cheek.

  A soft, comforting rain trickled from the sky. It felt like a dream. It couldn’t be real—they had been dying.

  Saoven crashed onto the sand beside her, gasping for air. Thunder crackled in the distance, and then the world went black.