62 The Al-Orizin

In the weeks after the eclipse, Saan steered a course northeast across the Middlesea, far beyond the sand shoals outside of Kiesh. Despite studying the Map of Urec, he could not determine where they were, or how they might find the Key to Creation. He expected to encounter the northern shore many leagues east of Gremurr, but the body of water grew wider and wider, with no end in sight. The Al-Orizin sailed on.

Saan was sure they would encounter foreign lands and strange peoples, not unlike the Nunghals on the far side of the Great Desert. Sooner or later, the ship must find another coastline… unless they had exceeded the reach of Ondun's creation, and nothing but water filled the rest of the world. That was an intimidating thought.

Ahead, foamy water churned around a line of reefs out in the middle of the empty sea. Cautious lookouts leaned over the sides of the ship, watching for underwater hazards that might tear open the ship's hull.

Grigovar strode up to the young captain, tossing his black hair. “Captain, those reefs are sure to offer a feast of mussels, oysters, and urchins. If you're as sick of eating fish as I am, let me dive down to see what I can find.”

Sen Sherufa shrugged. “It is our task to explore. Who knows… maybe Grigovar will find an undersea kingdom?” She said nothing more about the legendary Saedran origins or their sunken continent.

Sikara Fyiri announced herself in typical fashion, with a sweeping proclamation. “There are no undersea kingdoms.” Stepping close, she stroked Grigovar's broad shoulders, though the reef diver was much more interested in peering into the clear water than in her romantic attentions.

Ultimately, Saan knew his crew needed something to distract them from their endless voyaging. “Drop anchor here. I admit I'm tired of salted meat and boiled fish. Grigovar, take one of the ship's boats so we don't endanger our hull around those reefs.”

The reef diver stripped off his shirt and secured a dagger to his waist for prying shellfish loose. After two crewmen had lowered the boat into the water, Grigovar rowed over to where foamy water marked the reefs. He tied a small mesh bag to his waist-wrap, then slipped over the side of the boat, stroking down deep. When minute after minute ticked by and he still did not reappear, the men began to mutter. “Something's eaten him, I think.”

“No man can hold his air that long.”

“No normal man. You've heard him sing as he pulls on the ropes—Grigovar's got lungs as big as his ego.”

With a welcome splash, the diver surfaced again, holding aloft a bulging mesh bag. “Oysters! Dozens of them!” He emptied the sack into the boat, heaved several deep breaths, then dove again. He rose three more times, emptying his haul each time. “A feast for us all!”

Grigovar crawled back into the boat and rowed farther toward the reef's edge. “A better bed!” he yelled, then dove again.

The man in the lookout nest began to shout. “Sea serpent!”

Excited, the crew rushed to the starboard side of the Al-Orizin, and Saan spotted the sinuous line of a scaly creature gliding along. It reminded Saan of a deadly snake knifing through the grasses of a salt marsh. Its neck rose up, displaying coppery spots on pale blue scales. Its snub head was nearly as large as the ship's boat.

“Bring pots and pans!” Saan shouted. “Make a lot of noise—we might drive it away.”

Some men rushed to the galley, while others grabbed anything that could be used as a weapon. Yal Dolicar mounted the fighting dagger onto his wrist stump, though such a blade would do little against a sea serpent. Sikara Fyiri stood her ground, as if she could drive the creature away by sheer force of will. The spotted serpent continued to glide through the water, making no threatening moves… yet.

Unaware of the commotion, Grigovar burst to the surface and threw another sack full of oysters into the boat. He yelled, “We'll have fine eating tonight, Captain!”

Drawn to the noise, the serpent streaked toward the reef diver like a thrown spear.

“Watch out!” Saan shouted. The crew ran around the deck with their pots and pans, setting up a tremendous racket, but to no avail. The serpent's attention was fixed on its prey.

The racket did get Grigovar's attention. He saw the monster bearing down on him, its fanged mouth gaping open. Flailing in the water, he brandished his long dagger, but the serpent was not impressed with the threat. He tried to duck behind the small boat, but the serpent struck down and grabbed him out of the water, raised him into the air like a pelican with a fish, and swallowed him whole. Closing its jaws, the monster dove back under the water.

The men aboard the Al-Orizin howled curses. Tears streamed down Sen Sherufa's face, and Fyiri looked sickened. “Weapons, everyone! Set the sails!” Saan couldn't believe what he'd just seen, couldn't believe Grigovar was gone. After swallowing its meal, the serpent moved fluidly through the water. Even with favorable winds and masterful piloting, they could never catch the beast. But Saan knew he had to do something.

The lookout kept a sharp watch as the Al-Orizin started to move. Saan stood at the bow for a tense ten minutes, burning with disappointment and guilt. Their easy voyage had lulled him into forgetting how many dangers lay out in the unexplored waters. Grigovar had been lost for no good reason. Oysters? The idea nauseated him as they sailed away in hopeless pursuit.

From above, the lookout shouted, “Captain, I see the serpent, two points to starboard! It's… just lying there on the surface.”

“Maybe it sleeps after a meal,” Dolicar mused. “Like a jungle python.”

Saan bristled. “Then we'll make it sleep permanently. Everyone, ready weapons. As soon as we're within range, kill it!”

As the Al-Orizin approached, however, Saan realized that something was amiss. The spotted serpent drifted like a dead fish carcass. It hung suspended, its head underwater, its blowhole venting no gases.

The men held their harpoons, and archers nocked metal-tipped arrows to their bows. Everyone expected the serpent to rise up and attack, but the water was stained red by clouds of scarlet blood dissipating around its neck. As it drifted, the spotted monster began to roll over, and Saan could see a long gash down its throat—surely a mortal wound.

With a sudden splash, a man surfaced in the water nearby. Grigovar wheezed, covered with gore and slime. Saan stared, speechless, and the crew set up a loud cheer. Looking stunned, the weary reef diver raised a hand. “As soon as you're done staring, could somebody throw down a rope?”

When they hauled Grigovar aboard, the sailors were astonished to find him uninjured, though shaken. “I got stuck in the serpent's throat.” He made a jabbing motion with his blade. “I slid over its meaty tongue and down into the gullet, but I sliced my way out and made a new exit for myself. A shortcut, you might say, though it took a long time to saw a hole through those tough scales.” Grigovar laughed aloud.

Two crewmen hauled up a bucket of water and dumped it over the man's head to wash off the slime.

“But we saw the dead serpent when we sailed over here,” Saan said. “Where were you?”

Grigovar stroked his dagger's hilt with pride. “After cutting myself free, I dropped my knife in the commotion. I couldn't leave such a lucky blade behind. I had to dive five times before I finally found it. The water's deeper here.”

Yal Dolicar sat on a barrel, shaking his head in astonishment. “Though I saw the events myself, even I wouldn't be brazen enough to tell such an outrageous story!”

Saan gave orders to head back to the reefs so they could retrieve the ship's boat. “And the oysters,” Grigovar insisted. “I worked too hard to get them.”