Drifting on the Dyscovera among the ships of the dead, Criston’s crew found lost loved ones who had vanished at sea. They dropped anchor near the dark and tattered Luminara, and Criston stared with awe at her familiar lines. He recognized the figures standing at the rail.
The undead Enoch Dey waved a pallid hand at the Luminara and shouted, “Captain Shay, you were right. They were on their way.”
A figure at the bow of the ghost ship called out in a voice that had never faded from Criston’s memory, “I always saw the potential in you, Mr. Vora. I understand you’re captain of your own ship now? A fine vessel!”
The Luminara wasn’t the only relic from his past. Criston cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted in an uncertain voice, “I saw a fishing boat that belonged to my father, Cindon Vora. Is he…is he with you?”
Aboard the Luminara, another man appeared beside Captain Shay, and even in the dusk shadows Criston felt the stirring of long-blurred childhood memories. The man said, “We are all with you, Criston—all of your dead.” The familiarity was heartbreaking, and mental images rushed back as tears flooded his eyes.
As sailors aboard the ghost ships lit their lanterns, Criston could discern his father in the eerie yellowish light. He seemed younger than Criston remembered, but Cindon Vora had perished at sea when he was even younger than Criston now was.
Criston’s father shouted from the Luminara, “Come aboard, son!” He gave the chillingly familiar whistle he had always used to call his boy to supper. “I want to have a look at you after all these years.”
Prester Hannes spotted no acquaintances who had drowned in storms or shipwrecks. “Beware of them, Captain. They are ghosts, maybe angry ghosts. We don’t know what they want. What is this place? Heaven or hell? Some kind of purgatory? Why would your lost loved ones be drawn here?”
“Maybe they weren’t drawn to these coordinates, Prester,” Criston said. “Maybe something about this part of the sea drew them to us.”
“I thought you didn’t like to ask questions, Prester,” Sen Aldo observed.
“I’m only doing my duty to provide spiritual guidance.”
Though he felt uneasy, Criston could not turn down this chance to see his father or his beloved Captain Shay. “I intend to investigate further. Sen Aldo, you will accompany me. If that truly is the Luminara, there’s a certain chartsman I want you to meet.” He frowned at the castaway they had retrieved from the water. “Mr. Dey, you will remain behind with my crew. For now.” The pallid man didn’t seem to mind.
While the sailors prepared one of the ship’s boats, Criston retrieved a few things from his cabin. Lightheaded with anxiety and wonder, he and Sen Aldo rowed across to the Luminara.
Aboard the spectral ship, Criston regarded the souls before him, feeling a prickle of gooseflesh. A dank smell hovered like low-hanging mist about the Luminara, but the smell was of saltwater and drenched sailcloth rather than rot. The ship felt solid, sturdy…and unsettling.
Captain Shay looked unchanged in his familiar bulky jacket, his dark hair bound in a ponytail. Though his skin had a cadaverous grayness, his smile was genuine, and the light in his eyes was not false. The lanterns on deck reflected a hint of a tear on his cheeks.
Criston had watched the Leviathan devour the captain, seen the ship sink. “But you are all dead…the shades of sailors lost at sea.”
“We are what we are,” Shay said. “Elsewhere in the uncharted oceans there may be Uraban ships like this, spirits captured by other titans. I know only that we found ourselves together, here, bound by ties that we cannot see.”
Sen Aldo raised an unpleasant possibility as he gazed at the shadowy crewmembers. “If you were all lost at sea, then are we…dead too?”
“No, Chartsman, you are very much alive. But these waters are mysterious. The Dyscovera has sailed past the boundaries of the world and traveled far enough to find us.”
Criston found himself speechless when his father came forward. Cindon Vora said, “I knew you were a sailor at heart, my son, so I had hoped to see you again…but not so soon, and not this way.” He wrapped his arms around Criston in a tight and muscular hug. The man felt solid enough.
Among those crowded on the lost ship’s deck, Criston recognized many faces. He was astonished to see Prester Jerard, who had drifted with Criston for days on a makeshift raft, only to be eaten by a sea serpent. “I see Aiden’s blessing is upon you, Mr. Vora.”
Words caught in Criston’s throat. The kindly prester had made such an impact on him that when Criston lived in isolation up in the mountains, he had named his beloved dog after Jerard.…
The Luminara’s dark-haired and soberly intellectual chartsman, Sen Nikol na-Fenda, was curious to see Aldo. Captain Shay introduced the two. “The chartsmen will want to compare notes. For now, Mr. Vora, come to my cabin, and your father and I can have a good talk with you.”
“Maybe we can help you on your journey,” Cindon Vora added.
Criston turned to his chartsman. “Will you be all right with Sen Nikol?”
Aldo looked overwhelmed, but not fearful. “We have a great deal of information to share.”
Leaving the two Saedrans to talk, Criston followed his father and Shay to the captain’s cabin, which looked exactly as he remembered it. Though the Leviathan had smashed the ship to flotsam and splinters years ago, the ghost cabin was perfectly recreated. Flowerpots suspended from hooks in the rafters held herbs and green plants, though Criston noted that they had no smell. Narrow shelves were crowded with transparent bottles of preserved specimens that Captain Shay had studied—fish, plants, insects, shells. Meticulous sketches of places he had seen and creatures he had dissected were tacked to the walls.
Criston reached into his jacket and pulled out the water-stained leather-bound book that he had retrieved from his own cabin. “This is yours, Captain Shay. I rescued it from the wreckage of the Luminara, and I’ve kept it all these years.” Feeling young and excited again, he opened the yellowed pages to show the notations he had made.
The other captain was delighted. “No wonder I couldn’t find it among my things here. This is marvelous!” Shay flipped from one page to another. “I see you added your own sketches!” He stopped at the page where Criston had drawn the horrific Leviathan and glowered at the image. “Someday, I hope to have another chance at that monster.”
“So do I—especially now that I have evidence that it can be killed.” He told them of the Leviathan skeleton on the small island.
Criston’s father sat in a spare chair in the cluttered cabin, still beaming at his son. “You grew up well, Criston. For a long time, I’ve pondered what future you might have. Captain Shay couldn’t imagine how you got away from the Leviathan, but we didn’t see you here with the rest of the Luminara’s crew.”
“Prester Jerard told us part of the story,” Shay said. “You must have been rescued from the raft?”
Criston leaned back with a smile. “I’ll tell you that story, if you tell me yours, Father. We never knew what had happened to you. You sailed out from Windcatch one day and never came back.”
“I’m so sorry to have left you and your mother alone—it must have been hard for you.” Cindon Vora hung his head. “I went fishing as I always did. I set out my nets and hauled them in—a decent catch. But then something struck me from below, a giant beast with barnacles all over its back—a whale, I think. It was close to the surface and scraped my fishing boat, then swam away—probably didn’t even notice what it had done.
“With my hull cracked and leaking, I set sail for shore. I began listing badly, so I dumped my catch. I threw every spare item overboard just to stay afloat.
“Toward dusk, I spotted a distant fishing vessel, but their lookout didn’t see me. When the clouds came in and the rains pounded down…” Cindon hesitated, struggling to face his own memories of the story. “I stayed alive as long as possible.” He spread his hands, looking forlorn. “I wanted to come back to you, Criston…but I couldn’t.”
Criston hugged his father again, but Cindon had questions, too. “And what of your mother? What of yourself? Captain Shay says you have a lovely wife. Any children?”
Saddened, Criston told them how the Urecari raiders had burned Windcatch, murdered his mother, kidnapped and possibly killed Adrea. “Because of the Leviathan and the shipwreck, I got home much too late to save anyone.”
“Ah, that is a terrible thing, my son,” said Cindon Vora. Even Captain Shay had tears in his eyes.
Criston didn’t think he could face any more of the past. He drew a deep breath, and his voice was hoarse. “But those things happened long ago, to all of us. These ghost ships—why are you here?”
Captain Shay replied, “The last thing I remember is the Leviathan’s jaws crushing me…and then I was here, aboard an intact Luminara, with other drowned or shipwrecked sailors. We’ve all felt the call of the sea, and we died in the water. Now these strange waters hold us. We’re not going anywhere.”
Criston felt a chill of fear. “But the Dyscovera has a mission to find Terravitae. We can’t stay.”
“Oh, you aren’t trapped. You don’t belong with us—not yet,” his father insisted. “We’ll help you get away from the seaweed.”
In a strange and somber voice, Captain Shay added, “If she will let you go.”
Aldo was curious to hear what his fellow chartsman had to say, and excited to reveal the progress their people had made. “Since the Luminara sailed, Sen Nikol, the Saedrans have filled in much of the Mappa Mundi. We have full details of the continent of Uraba, even a land beyond it and a vast southern ocean. This voyage has also greatly expanded our knowledge of the seas.”
The other chartsman volunteered little, though. “During the voyage of the Luminara I saw a great deal of empty water, an island of skeletons, and not much else. Just before the Leviathan attacked and sank our ship, some sailors spotted a beacon in the distance…it might have been the Lighthouse at the End of the World.” He gave Aldo a strange look. “But I can’t be sure of the information, because I died before that.”
Aldo couldn’t contain his curiosity. “And how did you find yourself here? Does this place draw everyone who dies at sea?”
Sen Nikol’s gaze was distant, chilling. “Even though you’re my fellow chartsman, Sen Aldo na-Curic, I’ve gone to places that I cannot describe to you. You can only explore those dark landscapes for yourself when it is time.”
Aldo realized that despite his lifelong curiosity, perhaps there were some things he did not want to know.
Aboard the Dyscovera in the dark of the night, Enoch Dey found his old partner, Silam Henner, who was terrified to be near him. “Don’t wreak your vengeance on me, Enoch!”
The undead castaway laughed. “And why should I want to? You did me no harm.”
The other crewman was flustered. “Because I survived, while you were thrown overboard. I had to endure lashes, but you…” Fumbling, Silam couldn’t even find a way to speak his thoughts.
Enoch lowered his voice. “Your lashes were probably more painful than my death. Besides, I’m here again. No harm done.”
Silam snuffled. “But why are you here? Did you come to haunt us?” His lips quirked uncertainly. “Did you come to torment that bitch Mia again?”
“I don’t care about her. But I did come for you, Silam.”
The other man paled. “No! I’ve already atoned for what I did.”
“Truly? The captain can’t punish me any more, as you see.” Enoch spread his hands. “But do you believe he has just forgiven you and will never think again about your part in taking that girl by force?”
“But he knows I’m loyal! I promised.”
Enoch’s words dug deep into Silam’s fears. “Do you really think that when the Dyscovera goes home to Tierra the captain won’t change his mind and turn you over to Calay justice? You’ll be hung when you get there, Silam Henner. Mark my words.”
“That’s not true!” His voice carried very little conviction.
“I can offer you another choice. Believe me, it’s your best option.”
“Wh—what?”
At the rail, Enoch gazed out at the shadowy vessels floating among the weeds. “Look at the ships anchored here. See how warm and welcoming the lights are. We have a community of sailors, all with a common bond. You would be welcome among us—and we both know Captain Vora would not miss you. He’d say good riddance.”
“But I don’t know any of them,” Silam said.
“You know me, and I’d vouch for you. In fact, many of your crew have friends and loved ones aboard those ships. I wouldn’t be surprised if at least a dozen joined us before the Dyscovera sails on.”
Silam was deeply troubled as he weighed his options.
Enoch persisted. “Come with me, just for a little while. I’ll let you meet my new shipmates, find you a bunk.” He pointed to one of the dark hulks among the wrecks, outlined by the starlight.
“But how do we get over there? Do we take one of the ship’s boats?”
“No need for that—the water’s warm, and it’s not far. We can swim.” Enoch’s eyes narrowed, and his voice took on a sharp edge. “I’ve spent enough time in that water.”
Before Silam could reconsider, the pale man urged him over the side to scramble down the rope ladder. As the frightened sailor descended rung by rung, Enoch dropped into the water, stroked out among the seaweed. He trod water, whispering urgently for his friend. “Quickly, before someone stops you.”
Silam hesitated on the last rung, then dropped into the water and swam toward Enoch.
Before he had gone more than a body’s length from the Dyscovera, the seaweed began to move around him. One of the fronds grasped his ankle and drew tight. With a yelp, Silam tugged at the strand, trying to tear it free. Then more of the hairlike weed curled around his waist and grabbed his shoulders. “Enoch, help me!”
The other man floated, stroking gently. “It’s perfectly natural.”
Silam yanked a knife from his waist sheath and hacked at the weed, but more green strands coiled around him. One encircled his neck, choking him. He thrashed and screamed for help.
Above on deck, Javian, Mia, and other sailors rushed to see what was happening. They threw a rope to the struggling man in the water, but it was too late.
Silam Henner was cocooned in green webbing, and fleshy leaves dragged him under the surface. The seaweed gently stirred and closed over the opening he’d made.
Satisfied, Enoch Dey swam back to one of the ghost ships.