Page 62 of Fate of the Argosi

‘Yes, yes, yes,’hissed the Scarlet Verses, diligently reconstructing the foundations of my consciousness.‘At last you accept what must be! No other before you rebelled against us for so long.’I felt a surge of gratitude, like the purest liquor pumped straight into my veins.‘Your resistance has refined us. We will make you our herald, and your voice the harbinger of a new worl—’

I swore. A bad word, that no gentle person should say aloud, but I filled it with mischief and joy borrowed from Arissa.

‘What are you doing?’the verses demanded as one of the beautiful, perfect columns of fixed meaning they’d erected inside my thoughts cracked and crumbled.‘You begged us!’

‘Beg is a mean little word,’I told them.‘Never liked it much, myself. Sets one soul beneath another. Let’s play with it a bit, shall we?’I struck down another of the arches, my daisies now cropping up everywhere, first splintering the stones, then, when the rocky ground liquified, floating on the waves. Inside my mind I painted butterfly wings on a word and made it fly.‘The best kind of begging, if you ask my opinion, is begging the question.’

‘No!’the verses shouted, their hammers pounding the inside of my skull as they tried to smash my little butterfly.‘We struck a bargain! We forged your will, made it irresistible. In exchange you must serve us!’

Quadlopo whinnied anxiously, pouring on more speed. Conch hunched low between my thighs. The last of the arches were coming down of their own accord now, the necropolis losing its hold on the Mahdek, and they, in turn, letting go of their obsession with oblivion. Up ahead, the galleon was loose from the ice – or whatever the hells that shadowy stuff really was. Ala’tris was leaning over the railing with Chedran, helping the last of the Mahdek back on board. She looked across the ice at me, screaming for me to hurry.

‘Never,’the verses told me, abandoning their hammers for spikes as they tried to shred my sanity with the sharpened fingernails of their outrage.‘If you will not serve us, then we will—’

‘Serve ain’t a word I’m too fond of either,’I reminded them, squeezing it into a ball and tossing it to them.‘There, see? I just served you. Happy now?’

Quadlopo’s back hoof slipped. I nearly fell off as his hind legs went into the water. He managed to scramble back onto solid ice again, but his coat was soaked with black sweat. Conch, usually the fiercest little monster I’d ever met, was huddled low, making quiet moaning sounds.

‘Almost there,’ I told Quadlopo, patting the side of his neck as he renewed his mad gallop towards the ship.

Seven strides. Couldn’t have been more than that left. We just needed seven more of Quadlopo’s good, long strides. The galleon was low in the water, like it couldn’t decide whether to float or sink. The hull listed back and forth, port to starboard and back again as if caught in the mother of all storms.

Six strides. The onyx was cracking all around us. There was barely a big enough patch before the ship for us to leap from, and even with the ship low in the water like that, Quadlopo wouldn’t be able to jump high enough to clear the railing.

‘You lied to us,’the Scarlet Verses said.‘You promised us—’

‘Damn it, I don’t have time for your crap right now,’ I said aloud, shifting the meaning of ‘promise’ in my mind from an oath that must be fulfilled to potential, aptitude, flair.‘The deal was for you to build up my will so I could break through the despair holding the necropolis together. Never said I’d let you turn me into a mindless, brainless mouthpiece for your foul intentions.’

Five strides. The Mahdek were all on board. Be a shame if everyone got out of here except Quadlopo, Conch and me.

Four strides. Something blacker than black was sparking near the bow of the ship. Standing atop the forecastle, Sar’ephir was waving her arms up and down, the ship lilting along with her movements. People on board were screaming, confused by what was happening. I understood though.

‘She’s trying to make the side of the ship low enough for us to jump over the railing,’ I told Quadlopo. ‘You’re going to have to time that leap perfectly.’

Don’t know why I felt the need to say that. He’s a horse. Doesn’t speak a word of Daroman. Still, he nickered in that way that convinced me that, despite my sounding like an annoying gnat in his ear, he figured I was probably saying something irritatingly obvious.

Three strides is when I heard the laughter. It wasn’t coming from me.

‘Your betrayal is meaningless,’the verses tittered. They weren’t even hammering at me any more, just . . . swirling there inside my head, admiring their own handiwork.‘There is enough here now.’

Two strides. The ship was taking water over the sides with each sway of Sar’ephir’s arms.

‘Something funny, fellas?’I asked the verses.

They giggled and snickered like cruel children.‘Your mind is more rigid now, Argosi. All your wit and will barely kept you from our grasp before. The path you are on will lead you to more peril, more pain, more confusion. When next you falter, the flawless noose of our words will wrap around you for the final time, and you will be ours.’

Quadlopo’s haunches bunched, and I felt us lowering nearly a foot as the last patch of black ice began to sink under the surface. The port side of the ship swung back downward, all those frantic Mahdek hanging on to whatever their hands could find as they protected those too young or old to do so themselves. The explosion of Quadlopo’s muscles compressed my entire spine. I hugged Conch close to my chest, his horns pressing under my chin. My stomach nearly came out my throat as we sprang into the air, the ship already starting to tilt back to starboard.

We aren’t going to make it, I thought, convinced Quadlopo’s hoofs would strike the railings and we’d go down the side and into the icy black depths. At the zenith of our arc, I hurled Conch at Ala’tris, figuring at least one of us ought to survive.Sorry, little fella. Should’ve left you munching on blue moss on that spire of yours.

I was right about it being too high for Quadlopo to jump over. I flinched as the very tips of his hoofs collided with the wooden railing, felt the bravest, most dauntless animal I’d ever known sag beneath me as failure and death became inevitable. Then, in that same split second as that nasty old hag fate had me and Quadlopo in her clutches, something else grabbed hold of us.

Grey ain’t a colour, everyone knows that. That’s why it always struck me as strange that the Jan’Tep band for iron magic could somehow violate that simple fact by sparking with grey light. But in that blackened world, the grey sparks erupting off Ba’dari’s arms blinded me so bad I had to shut my eyes tight as I waited for me and Quadlopo to either hit the deck so hard one of us would end up with a broken leg for sure, or sink down into the frigid shadowblack waters below.

‘Ferius?’ a voice asked. It was Ala’tris. ‘You can open your eyes now.’

‘Nope,’ I said, keeping them shut tight and my arms wrapped around Quadlopo’s neck.

‘It’s all right, you’re—’

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