The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock (9 page)

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Authors: Timothy L. Cerepaka

Tags: #fantasy, #fantasy about a prince, #fantasy about ancient gods, #fantasy and travel, #fantasy new 2014 release, #prince malock, #prince malock world

BOOK: The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock
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“What is it, sir?” said one of Malock's men, a human
named Forl Mas. “Is it dangerous?”

Malock reached down and wrapped his fingers around
the tiny rock. “It's just a diamond. Possibly Grinfian, by the
look—”

He stopped talking when he noticed how the diamond
refused to budge, even when he pulled, as if it were attached to
something deep beneath the sand. That didn't stop Malock, though.
He put his sword aside and, using both hands, tugged at the diamond
with all of his might.

A loud
pop
preceded Malock staggering
backwards. Forl caught him before he could fall and said, “Sir,
what ... happened ...”

Forl's words trailed off when he spotted the very
bony, very human remains of a hand sticking out of the sand, its
middle finger now missing.

When Malock saw it, he looked at the diamond in his
hand. It was actually a diamond ring that he had pulled out of the
sand, a ring with the skeletal hand's missing middle finger still
stuck through it. This caused Malock to gasp and, without thinking,
hurl the detached finger into the bay. The finger landed in the
water with a small splash and sank out of sight.

“You desecrated a grave, captain,” said another
sailor, a female aquarian whose name Malock could not recall at the
moment. “Do you know what that means, sir?”

Malock shook his head, trying not to look afraid,
even though the sight of the skeletal hand still sent shivers down
his spine. “I don't care what that means, sailor. Dig the rest of
it up. I want to see if there's a whole skeleton under there.”

The female aquarian stepped back. Her face resembled
that of a guppy, thus making the fear in her eyes evident. “No way,
captain sir. I'm a follower of Diog, God of the Grave, and we
Diogians aren't supposed to desecrate the graves of any dead being,
human, aquarian, or whatever. Part of the Diogian Creed, you
see.”

Malock sighed. “Fine. Does anyone else here have
objections to 'desecrating' the grave of a dead person?”

The other four did not look thrilled at the idea of
digging up a grave, but they nonetheless complied while the female
aquarian stood back, looking even more disgusted than they did.
Malock was annoyed at her refusal to dig, but he respected her
commitment to her god nonetheless.

The party lacked shovels, so they mostly used their
hands to dig. Forl showed some creativity by stripping off a large
layer of bark from a nearby ikadori tree and using it as a shovel,
but it still took them ten minutes to dig the entire skeleton
up.

Or, rather, skeleton
s
. As they cleared each
layer of sand, they found more and more scattered body parts. Some
were obviously human, such as a complete lower torso, while others,
like the bony fins, were just as obviously from aquarians. Some of
the bones were mixed together so thoroughly it was impossible to
tell where the human began and aquarian ended or vice versa. Some
of the bones had bits of clothing attached to them or some sort of
jewelry, but the vast majority were bare.

Malock became so interested in this mystery that he
actually got down on his hands and knees and started helping his
men. He immediately wished he hadn't, however, because he
immediately came upon a dreadful skeleton: That of a human baby,
missing the upper half of its head, its tiny arms and legs with
teeth marks in them.

It was so horrible that he stood up and, being
careful not to look at the skeletons, ordered his men to stop and
take a step back so they could see what they'd dug up.

When they did, it became clear what it was they had
found: A mass grave made up of dozens of beings, humans and
aquarians alike. It had obviously been there for a while, but how
long, Malock couldn't say for sure.

“This is bad,” said Forl, wiping the sweat off his
forehead. “Bad, bad, bad. There's gotta be at least three dozen
skeletons, maybe more, and I wouldn't be surprised if this was just
the top layer.”

“But what killed them all?” said the female
aquarian, whose name Malock now remembered was Crina. “Maybe
there's a tribe of cannibals on this island. I've heard tales of
cannibals living on the southern islands.”

“Doubt its anything human,” said another sailor.
“Look at the teeth marks on all the bones. Maybe a shark aquarian
ate 'em or something.”

“Those aren't shark teeth marks,” Crina said. “These
almost look like human teeth.”

“Impossible,” said Malock, shaking his head. “Human
teeth aren't strong enough to bite through bone or even leave a
mark.”

But he had to admit that her description wasn't
entirely inaccurate. When he glanced at the baby again, he noticed
that the upper half of its skull appeared to have been bitten
straight off, the way a person might bite off a large chunk of
steak. The thought was so horrible that he immediately rejected it
from his mind and vowed never to think it again.

“Whatever it is, we need to return to the center,”
said Malock. “It's been nearly twenty minutes and I'm sure that the
others will want to—”

A loud, shrill sound struck their ears, a sound that
Malock recognized immediately:

The whistle was being blown.

***

Chapter Five

 

M
alock and his party didn't waste any time
abandoning the mass grave. Soon they returned to the center of the
beach, where they found the left party gathered near the boats. As
soon as Malock's party came within shouting distance, Danaf looked
up and immediately ran to meet them.

The aquarian looked terrible. His face was bloody
and cut in several places. His jacket sleeves were torn off
completely, revealing a long, bloody wound that made Malock's
stomach churn. His webbed hands were torn in a few places. He
looked so terrible that Malock was surprised he could walk at all,
much less run to them.

“Captain!” said Danaf, skidding to a halt in the
sand as they stopped. “My brother ... taken into the jungle ...
couldn't save him ... please, help ...”

Before anyone could respond, Danaf collapsed face
first onto the sand, the blood from his wounds staining the white
beach.

Alarmed, Malock bent over and held Danaf in his
arms, trying to wake the wounded aquarian. By the time Danaf
regained consciousness, the rest of the left party had joined them,
but when Malock did a quick head count, he realized that one of the
sailors was missing.

“Danaf,” said Malock. “Where is Sumsa? Your
brother?”

Danaf's face was partially crusted with sand, but he
managed to say, “Took him ... the jungle took him ...”

Malock looked up at the rest of Danaf's party and
said, “What's he talking about? What does he mean, 'the jungle took
him'?”

“It is exactly as he said, sir,” said one of the
other sailors, a human. “We was searching the left side of the
shore, like you ordered us to, when Sumsa saw something moving in
the trees. Sumsa's an impulsive lad, I reckon, because he went to
investigate it even when we told him to stay back. When he got
close to the treeline, a bunch of vines snatched him right in front
of our eyes.”

“Vines?” Malock repeated. “That's impossible.”

“'Tis true, though,” said the sailor. “The others
can confirm my story. Right, guys?”

The other two members of the left party nodded
fervently. They looked a little better than Danaf, though not by
much.

“What happened to Danaf, then?” said Malock.

“Ran after the lad, he did,” said the sailor. “A
good big brother he is. Almost got killed, though, because it's as
dark as night in that jungle. We went in after him and just barely
managed to drag him out.”

“You couldn't find Sumsa?” said Malock as he gently
lowered Danaf (who had fallen unconscious again) back onto the
sand.

“Nope,” said the sailor. “Far as we can tell, the
jungle took Sumsa and isn't going to give him back anytime
soon.”

Malock cursed and looked at the treeline. The jungle
had always looked dark to him, but now it looked downright
sinister. “All right, men. Half of you, go back to the
Iron
Wind
and tell everyone what happened.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, sir, but I think they
already saw,” said the sailor. “We were in plain sight of the ship
the entire time. Bet the whole crew saw it happened. Wouldn't be
surprised if they were already assembling a team to come here.”

Malock stood up and unsheathed his sword. “I still
want half of you to go back. Take Danaf with you and get him to
Telka immediately. The rest of us will go into the jungle and try
to find Sumsa.”

“Sir?” said Forl, glancing into the jungle. “Are you
sure that's a wise move? I mean, you saw what happened to the left
party. Maybe we should all go back.”

Malock whirled and pointed the tip of his sword
under Forl's chin. Forl shrank back, looking quite timid despite
his buff arms.

“Are you questioning my orders, Forl?” said Malock,
in his most authoritative voice. “Or do you just not care about
your fellow sailors all that much?”

“I'm not questioning you at all, Captain, sir,” said
Forl, holding his hands up in a submissive position. “It's just ...
well, I didn't think you'd risk your own life like this. Th-that's
all.”

Malock lowered his sword and looked at the jungle.
“As Captain of the
Iron Wind
, I will not unnecessarily
sacrifice the lives of any of my sailors. Besides, as Kano's
chosen, I will probably be okay.”

It didn't take Malock long to divide the expedition
into two teams. To avoid losing his best men, Malock sent Danaf,
Kocas, Forl, and the other two injured sailors back to the
Iron
Wind
on one of the rowboats. The other half, consisting of
Crina, the human sailor, and the other two who weren't badly
injured, were going with him into the jungle.

Right before the second party left, Malock took Forl
aside and said, “When you get back to the ship, tell Banika to
refrain from sending a rescue party for the next six hours.”

“Six hours, sir?” said Forl. “Do you think your
party will find Sumsa in six hours?”

“Possibly,” said Malock, though privately he doubted
that. “I just don't want to risk the lives of anyone else on the
crew.”
Especially Vashnas,
he thought.

Forl saluted and said, “And if you don't return in
six hours, what do we do then?”

Malock looked at the
Iron Wind
anchored just
off the shore and said, “Turn the ship back north and head home.
Because if we don't return by then ... then we will probably be
dead.”

-

The jungle of Ikadori Island was as silent as the
beach. There were no insects buzzing, no birds chirping in the
trees, not even the screeching of monkeys to break the stillness.
It was like walking into an audimancer's study, except far muggier
and much less friendly.

Every member of Malock's party had their weapons
drawn. Though Malock didn't think that anything was following them,
he had ordered his men to keep quiet at all times so they could
hear anything coming up behind them. They consented readily,
perhaps because the stillness of the jungle made talking seem
inappropriate.

It seemed like the ikadori trees were mostly found
along the shore because the farther in they went, the fewer ikadori
peaches they found on the ground. Eventually, the ikadori trees
disappeared entirely, replaced by odd-looking trees with black
bark, wrapped in red and green vines, with great white leaves that
shrouded them in darkness.

Not even the wind blew in the jungle; the leaves on
the trees were perfectly still. Vines hung from the branches,
reminding Malock of the hanger snakes from Carnag, a species of
snake that hang from tree branches like a vine and killed whatever
grabbed them. These vines were clearly not snakes, but every time
Malock's arm brushed against one, he jumped and his men would aim
their guns at it only to discover that it was nothing more than a
mere vine.

And it was dark, almost like night time, as the
sailor from the left party had said earlier. The leaves and
branches above their heads crisscrossed so tightly that little
light shone through, despite the bright mid-morning sun. Malock
wished he'd brought along a lamp because he was certain that, if
there was something stalking them right now, it would have no
trouble picking them off one by one, if it wanted to.

Because the sun was obscured, it was impossible to
tell how many hours had passed. Malock supposed it had probably
only been one hour, maybe two, but his sense of time was off and he
didn't want to ask the others how much time they thought had passed
because he didn't want to create any unnecessary sound.

Then Crina's voice whispered through the darkness
suddenly. “Hey ... did you guys hear that?”

The rescue party stopped and listened. At first,
Malock heard nothing, but then he heard something swishing through
the air and the next moment something hard slammed into his face.
Seeing stars in his eyes, Malock fell over backward amid the noises
of gun shots, shouts, and what sounded like slapping ropes twirling
through the air.

Confused and scared, Malock rolled away from the
scene, got to his feet, and ran. Something hot whizzed by his ear,
almost taking it clean off, and he felt a vine try to snag his foot
but he slapped it away with his sword and kept running, never
looking back, never slowing down even slightly.

He had no idea how many hours he ran. He crashed
through the bushes, cut down vines and branches that got in his
way, and didn't even try to be quiet. There was no point in being
silent now, not when his location was known and the
thing
—whatever it was—could get him if he wasn't
careful.

Then his foot met empty air and he went falling. He
landed flat on his back in the bottom of a pit, causing pain to
shoot up his spine like he'd never felt before. This time he bit
back his scream, even biting his own tongue to keep silent. He had
no idea what was chasing him, no idea what had attacked (and
probably killed) his men, but he was betting that the thing relied
on sound more than sight, so if he kept quiet then it might not
find him.

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