A Deep Problem, Part II

Sheldon Burnston

Summer 2003

This is ridiculous!” Rodin Rae slammed her hand on the table, anger and frustration coloring her face. “We have been sailing in circles for nearly two hours now. Can’t anybody come up with a workable plan?”

Her companions around the table looked at her with differing emotions. Jomton, the aged shipwright, looked amazed, his almost-toothless mouth agape. Cygnus, the Blue Star Mage, smiled a small smile into his beard and, as usual, appeared totally calm. Skye the fairy, his consort, looked at her Clan sister with worry writ large on her expressive face. Willow, an elf gypsy, looked sympathetic, while Bartholomew the Druid just sighed with impatience.

True, they had all gathered at Jomton’s shipyard to finalize their plans about dealing with the giant Kraken that had been terrorizing the waters off Toolibrie city for six moons now, but despite all their collective knowledge and various abilities, no one seemed to have a workable idea. And, due in large part to the chaos and confusion caused by the great Cataclysm, they were the only Stoneholders of Falo, the Clan of the Heart, able and willing to deal with this problem.

“Captain, Captain,” said Bart soothingly, hoping his private name for her would calm her a bit, “we all share your impatience..”

“Bart, you don’t get it,” she said sharply. “I’m losing time, I’m losing money, I simply must get back to Sheldon, and these people are depending on me to help them with the Kraken first.” She referred, of course, to the newly discovered tribe of sea elves that claimed blood kinship with the diminutive elvin seafarer. “And nobody can come up with a workable idea!” Her face was a picture of frustration.

Bart rose from the table and went to the sideboard to refresh his cup of tea. “Well, Captain, just what do you propose we do?”

“Oh, I don’t know!” she almost wailed. “Next, I suppose someone will suggest something as preposterous as just going up to the Kraken and politely asking it to leave!”

Bart felt a tingle go down his spine. An idea was taking seed in his mind. Turning, he replied, “You know, my dear Captain, that might not be such a wild idea after all.”

Returning to his seat, he began to lay out his thoughts to his friends and companions. As he spoke, they all seemed to pick up on his ideas and, strangely, each seemed to have significant contributions to make, both to the plan and its execution. Their tiredness and frustration gone, the newly invigorated group stayed at the table late into the night, refining their plans.

It was not until the sky was streaked with dawn-light that old Jomton sprang the next problem that seemed to put an end to their plans: the elvin ship was not yet ready.

“What now?” Rodin Rae’s face was livid. “Jommie, there’s been one delay after another! I need that ship, and I need it now!”

The shipwright’s face was full of rueful honesty. “Oi’m sorry, Milady, but Oi canna’ deliver her t’ye joost yet. Seems that she’s far nimbler and fleeter than we ivver dreamt, an’ she needs a new suit o’ sails. The ones we planned fer ‘er be just too small, an’ she won’t gi’ ye the speed and response t’ the rudder ye want wi’oot them. Aye, tha’s some strange wood ye gave me t’ work with; sweet an’ foine, but strange ne’th’less.”

Rodin Rae glanced around the table before responding. All the Stoneholders of Falo knew that the wood was donated by Angelica, Queen of the Ravenhilt fairies, who was also a Clan sister. It came from the trees of Dryads killed by the Cataclysm, and was therefore magically augmented, but Jomton was not party to that knowledge. Visibly reining in her temper, she turned to him.

“Well then, Master Shipwright, what do you suggest?”

“As it ‘appens,” he said with a smile, “Oi have a ship fer ye ter use. It’s a two-master cog, left for careenin’ by me old mate Teredon before the Great Changes, but he ain’t been seen since, so’s I figger it’s moine ter use as Oi sees fit. She’s a bit slow, but responsive ter the helm, an’ she needs but a crew of twelve or so, an’ she’s ready ter sail, once she’s loaded an’ crewed. Oi’ve renamed her the Molly Barlow, an we kin go look a’her now, if ye loike.”

“You didn’t!” Bart exploded. “The ‘Molly Barlow?’” The rest of the group looked at him with amazement. “Jommy, that’s probably the worst song ‘Pinky Curl’ ever wrote! Why did you have to pick that name?”

“Oh Cap’n, it ain’t sech a bad song. Oi kinda loike it.” Try as he might, Bart could never get his old crewman to stop calling him “Captain,” even though it had been forty years since they sailed together. And “Pinky Curl” had been his ship’s cook, who fancied himself a Bard, and had written some of the most abominable songs Bart had ever heard after the crew went their separate ways. And of them all, “Molly Barlow” stood near the bottom of the list.

“Well, old friend, it’s your ship and if you must, you must. I’ll learn to live with it.”

The Molly Barlow proved to be quite seaworthy, and Bart set himself to the task of provisioning it, using his contacts in the shipping industry in Toolibrie. Rodin Rae and Jomton took on the task of hiring a crew, which was not so easy. While there were many unemployed seamen gracing the docks of that port city, most were afraid to sail out during that time when one out of every four ships leaving the harbor were never heard from again. Others had a reputation for being untrustworthy or were too unsavory for Rodin Rae’s liking. Skye and Willow spent most of the time swimming the waters in and around Toolibrie, familiarizing themselves with the currents and reefs that protected the harbor, while Cygnus secluded himself with studying a series of tomes that he somehow kept in pockets in his garments. In all, it took a good week before they were ready to sail, but sail they did, on a sunny morning about an hour before dawn.

The first two days’ sail were uneventful. Captain Rodin Rae used the time to begin molding her crew into a working team. Willow and Skye, by far the most at home in the waters of the Clankin present, ranged out through the sea, looking for signs of the Kraken. Bartholomew and Cygnus spent much time discussing and refining their plans, and the rest in arcane discussions of Magicks and their applications. While their disciplines were quite different, there were, nevertheless, many points of similarity in their applications. Bart also told his companion of what he had learned from his meeting with Quinnareas, Willow’s Triton father, just off the coast of Toolibrie after that worthy’s visit to Falo at the March Gather.

And then they waited.

The third day brought the storm Bart’s Weather Sense spell had predicted. They’d had ample time to prepare, and the ship, its passengers and crew showed their mutual seaworthiness by coming through with little or no damage. But now came the time they were both anticipating and dreading: according to their best guesses, the Kraken would be surfacing after such a storm, looking for an easy meal.

And so it was that at mid morning, Willow broached the waters near the Molly Barlow in a leap worthy of a dolphin and landed on the deck, water streaming from her long red hair. “Eet ees comink!” she cried, her gypsy accent strong in her excitement. “I haff seen eet! De monster ees very close!”

Skye, too, popped up from the waters, her wings giving her a different approach to the ship. “Ooh, it’s here! I hope this will work!”

“We’ll all do our parts, m’love,” Cygnus replied with a twinkle in his eye, “and trust in that to do the trick. It should work.”

“Aye, brother,” muttered Bart, “if the Lord and Lady favor us this day. All of us to our places!” he cried, “Captain, tend to your ship!”

Rodin Rae had already signaled the bo’sun to pipe “all hands on deck,” and the small crew was rushing to their emergency stations. Feeling somewhat like an orchestra conductor, Bart turned to the Gypsy Elf and the Water Fairy. “Willow, Skye, you both know what you have to do. Go to it, my sisters, and may the Tree guard us all!”

The Druid drew a deep breath and began intoning a prayer which was also an incantation. He seemed to somehow grow taller and more dignified, and his hair began to rise off his head, as if filled with static electricity. With a few arcane words, he activated a holy working, using the abilities granted him by his deities, Mother Earth and Father Sky, over things of nature. A shiver ran through the hull of the ship, and although it still looked the same, its very being changed. The Druids called this working IronWood, and it strengthened any wooden item to the hardness of steel armor. Bartholomew immediately began a second spell.

At the same time, Cygnus, the Mage of the Blue Star, was speaking his own words of power and moving his hands in strange ways. He too, for those sensitive to it, became surrounded with magickal auras, and a feeling of great energies held in check. And in the sky aft of the Molly Barlow, clouds began to gather….

And at the same time, Willow dashed down the hatchway to their cabins, emerging a moment later with a small waterproof container in her hands. Without pause, she dove over the railing, cutting the water smoothly without a splash. Out of the corner of his eye, Bart saw her legs change color, and he knew that she was undergoing the change that proved her Triton ancestry; her legs were becoming scaly and her toes webbed, allowing her to swim with and as the dolphins. She rose halfway out of the water, balancing on her moving legs, and began throwing handfuls of a yellowish powder from the container all over the ship. Wherever it touched it clung to the hull and seemed to absorb water from the sea. It glistened in the air, and spread out over the hull, even clinging below the waterline. Within two minutes, she had coated the entire ship with the sticky, shiny coating.

Skye’s Reflection on the Water was nowhere to be seen. She had flown off the deck and seemed to melt into the ocean water as she touched it. As a water fairy, she could blend with and, to a great extent, control any body of water. True, the Westron Sea in its entirety was beyond her capabilities, but sections of it would respond to her commands. Bart was sure she knew what to do, since they had discussed and even rehearsed their parts several times.

And again they waited….

Suddenly the waters half a league in front of the ship exploded upward! Huge tentacles, each as thick and as long as a tree trunk reached up and up from the water. They seemed to go on forever, reaching up toward the sky, before falling over towards the Molly Barlow, bringing the massive body of the sea monster to the surface. The Kraken had arrived!

It swam towards the ship with an incredible speed, looming ever larger as it neared. When he judged it to be just beyond its reach of the ship, Bart nodded to Cygnus, and the mage and the Druid spoke the last words to complete their second incantations.

With a huge explosion of sound, a booming as if of thunder, a hundred-foot tall representation of Cygnus sprang into existence just in front of the ship. At the same moment, the Kraken unexpectedly slowed its approach to a complete stop. Skye’s spell to thicken the waters had worked, and the Kraken was trying to move through water the consistency of thick mud.

Bartholomew, using the spell of Speaking With Sea Life that he had learned from the Sea Elf Druids months earlier, when he and Rodin Rae had journeyed out in response to their plea for help, insinuated his thoughts into the Kraken’s mind as words it could understand. According to Quinnareas, these creatures were just intelligent enough to have a simple language, but since it involved changing color patterns on their bodies, it was easier to communicate mind-to-mind.

STOP! Bart projected to the monster. I AM GARLOCK, MASTER OF THESE WATERS. WHO ARE YOU AND WHY DO YOU ATTACK MY SERVANTS?

The Kraken raised its rear out of the water and turned slowly, to allow one of its huge eyes to take in the apparition before it. Master of these waters? I am master of all where I swim! the Kraken responded. And I think I eat you for my next meal!

As fast as a snake striking, one of its two longer tentacles lashed through the air for the giant figure apparently standing on the waves in front of it. But, equally fast, a bolt of magic lightning sizzled down from the overhead clouds, slicing off the tip of the arm and cauterizing the cut at the same time.

Bart winced as the Kraken’s mental shout of pain echoed through his head. BE WARNED, CREATURE OF THE DEEPS. I DO NOT THREATEN IDLY! I ASK YOU YET AGAIN: WHO ARE YOU AND WHY ARE YOU HERE?

The Kraken’s painful recoil from the lightening bolt had been a sideward move, which put it out of the direct line of the giant and a bit closer to the ship. Bart could feel the waves of hatred and pain in its thoughts, but without a response the Kraken lashed out at the ship.

Once again, it recoiled in pain with a mental roar of anguish. Willow had coated the ship with a concentrated essence of jellyfish poison, a gift from her father and the Triton nation. The Kraken’s tentacles coiled and uncoiled in pain as the creature lay there, almost completely stuck in the solidified water.

THAT IS YOUR SECOND WARNING, CREATURE, AND YOUR LAST. IF YOU TRY TO HARM ME OR MINE AGAIN, I WILL KILL YOU. NOW STOP AND SPEAK, AND PERHAPS YOU CAN GET OUT OF THIS WITH YOUR LIFE. The giant figure, aping Cygnus’ shape and look, folded its arms and looked sternly at the Kraken. Cygnus was quickly following the words he heard Brother Bart speak in a low voice, which were being projected into the Kraken’s mind.

The Kraken lay there in the water. What do you want of me? I came here after the Great Wave destroyed my home. The cliffs fell, and my places in the deep were not good any more. There was no food. The whales and the fish and the little cousins did not come there any more.

I UNDERSTAND, Bart replied, THE GREAT WAVE DID DAMAGE HERE TOO. BUT YOU WERE FOOLISH TO COME HERE WITHOUT KNOWING THE WAYS OF THIS PART OF THE WATERS, ESPECIALLY OF ITS MASTERS.

The Kraken, although still sullen, seemed curious. Bart continued, BEFORE YOU CAME UP HERE, DID YOU KNOW THAT THE WATER ENDED AND THERE WAS A BIG BUBBLE OF AIR ON TOP OF IT? OF COURSE NOT! DID YOU KNOW THAT WATER COULD FALL FROM HIGH IN THE AIR AND LAND IN THE SEA, THE SAME WAY FOOD FALLS FROM ON HIGH WHEN YOU ARE IN THE DEEP? NO AGAIN. AND DID YOU KNOW THAT THERE WERE CREATURES THAT BREATHED THE AIR, AND THAT I WAS THEIR MASTER? NO AND NO AND NO AGAIN! I SAY IT ONCE MORE; YOU WERE FOOLISH TO TRY TO MAKE YOUR HOME HERE ON HIGH, WITHOUT KNOWING ALL THERE IS TO KNOW OF ITS DANGERS.

BUT I WILL BE MERCIFUL. I HAVE MY OWN THINGS TO DO HERE, AND I DO NOT NEED A BATTLE WITH YOU. IF WE FIGHT I WILL KILL YOU, BUT IT WILL WEAKEN ME FOR A WHILE, AND LEAVE ME LESS ABLE TO DEAL WITH MY REAL ENEMIES. INSTEAD, I TELL YOU TO GO BACK TO THE DEPTHS WHERE YOU WILL BE MASTER AGAIN. MY SERVANT, THE SMALL ONE WITH THE LOWER HALF LIKE A FISH AND STREAMERS THE COLOR OF CORAL AT HER HEAD WILL SHOW YOU THE WAY TO A DEEP THAT IS GOOD HUNTING, WHERE YOU CAN BATTLE MY WHALES AS LONG AS YOU LIKE.

It took several hours to finally convince the creature of the deeps that it was better off returning from whence it came. It tried to attack several times, but Cygnus' magic bolts sizzled, Willow's jellyfish poison stung, Skye's water control frustrated its movements, Bart's spell on the ship kept it from being crushed, and Rodin Rae and her crew worked wonders to keep the small vessel from being swamped or capsized. Eventually the Kraken, exhausted, indicated its agreement. Cygnus made his phantasm nod and smile and waved his hand. Willow dove overboard and waved to the Kraken. As she began to swim away, Skye thinned the waters holding the Kraken, and it began to follow the Triton/Elf.

“Tell Skye to stay with them, to guard against treachery, old friend,” Bart whispered to the Mage, “and have her stay in contact with you so that we can know what happens. The Kraken has, I think, seen the wisdom of my words, but I still don’t trust it completely.”

Cygnus nodded his agreement, and together the two men watched the creature swim away and begin to submerge into the depths.

By evening it was over. Willow and Skye had returned to the Molly Barlow unharmed, and Rodin Rae had turned them back towards Toolibrie. With the favorable winds and tides, they should make landfall within a day. The friends and Clankin were relaxing over the remains of a good meal in the ship’s mess.

They all agreed; it could have gone a lot worse.

“But there’s one thing I don’t understand, Bart,” Rodin Rae said. “Why did you insist that Cygnus call himself ‘Garlock?’ The Kraken didn’t know who we were, and any name would do.”

“Not quite, my dear Captain. This was special. You know I’ve always been quite fond of hot fried squid in ‘garlock’ sauce….hey! Quit throwing those rolls at me! What’d I do? Stop it…!”

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