Chapter 37

Day 140:

The angry blue reptilian form charged across the small island, neatly sliding around the central gazebo without pause. She jerked to a stop on the cliff overlooking Nefiume as the undead emperor hoisted Ozur’s body above his head.

Typhon raised one double-thumbed claw, pointing at their foe. Nefiume appeared to finally notice the dragon, head jerking in a double-take right before a fountain of water welled up from the sea beneath. The instant wave crashed over the emperor’s body, encasing him in a liquid dome with just the impaled corpse perched above.

The dragon rumbled a growl and leaned over to pluck Ozur from the trident. She laid him out, carefully on the rocks beside her.

“Is there a healer among you, by chance?” Her voice vibrated their insides with its depth and power, but her tone carried a note of hope.

“I! I am!” Vasin called, scrambling up the stairs to confront their rescuer.

Typhon examined him carefully for a long moment.

“You are a member of Kyet’sol’s Boon, yes?”

It wasn’t a question.

“I am.” Vasin confirmed, kneeling beside the Raider’s corpse.

“It has been only moments since his heart ceased its labor.” The dragon rumbled. “You might be able to repair and restart it with your own command of my sister’s power. If not, there may be something I might do for him.”

Vasin set to work as the rest of the crew filed up to stand in an arc around the unlikely trio. Only Sygraid remained below, holding watch over the water-entombed undead menace. The minutes stretched on while sweat poured down the healer’s face. The visible wounds closed quickly, but nothing else changed. An angry scowl stamped itself across his features as the Islander leaned into his work.

“Come on!” Vasin hissed in frustration.

The dragon touched her snout to Vasin’s shaking back, and the air around the two thickened. A blue aura extended from Typhon’s nose to envelop the healer. But still Ozur remained still.

“Why ... isn’t it ... working?” Vasin growled.

Typhon gently touched the corpse with a claw.

“He has released his hold on this world.” The dragon explained. “His spirit refuses to return. There is nothing more you can do for him.”

“No!” The healer wailed in anguish. “You ... you said you might do something for him if I couldn’t?”

“I did, but it is a poor choice.” Typhon replied. “Should you choose, I will raise him as an undead warrior and allow him to serve me. I cannot do anything more, since his soul has already fled into oblivion.”

Vasin’s face bore his shock. “I, I don’t think he would want that.”

He looked to the other Raider crew-members. Every one was shaking their heads negatively.

“Very well.” The dragon acquiesced. “You may use the... ‘funeral stone’ when you’re ready.”

Svend and several other Raiders moved forward to take charge of their comrade’s body. The Explorer patted Vasin’s shoulder as he passed the Islander, and each man after him did the same. Typhon side-stepped the gathering crowd and trundled over close to the portal arch. A spout of water welled up underneath the dock and lifted the still-encased undead emperor up to the cliff top. John and the rest of the non-Raiders trailed, forming a loose arc behind the thing’s tail.

The water level imprisoning Nefiume lowered until his head was exposed. The undead glared at Typhon with undisguised loathing.

“Release me!” He demanded.

“I shall not.” The dragon denied calmly. “You have broken my peace, and shall now bear the consequences.”

“Who are you, to think you may pass judgment against the Athlantyan Emperor? I am Lord of Wind and Wave, ruler of the entire ocean!” Their foe declared.

The dragon’s shrug looked more like a wave beneath her hide, rippling from the base of her neck all the way down to the tip of her tail.

“I am the Sapphire Dragon.” Her teeth-vibrating voice punctuated the announcement with greater emphasis than any other method could have. “The Bay of Chaos is my domain. And you, little abomination are doubly not welcome on my island.”

“I go wherever I—p”

But the dragon just spoke right over him.

“You have attacked a Challenger in contravention of my declared peace. Your actions resulted in the death of that Challenger, and serve as an unwelcome example for any with similar designs. Have you anything to say before I pass judgment upon you?”

“I ... am a successful ... Challenger myself.” Nefiume sounded uncertain, but forged ahead. “You may not do me harm, under your own rules.”

Typhon lowered her head until her nostrils made the water holding the undead in place ripple with each breath.

“You are not a Challenger.” She snarled. “You are an undead thing, inhabiting and animating the corpses of two former Challengers. I felt my power returned when one of them perished. My promise of safe passage does not extend beyond death. And the undead may not Challenge me. If I were a carrion-eater, I would make you my next meal’s appetizer.”

She sniffed loudly. “But you already smell of decay. Have you anything more to add to your ridiculous declarations?”

The emperor sneered. “Do as you will, beast. I have been on this ocean for longer than you, by far. I shall have my revenge.”

“Not today I think.” Typhon snorted. “It would take more than you to pose a threat to me.”

The undead just stared at her in silence.

“Very well.” The dragon sighed. “You have taken a life, and a Challenge’s potential reward this day. You shall, therefore forfeit a life and a power as punishment. Release your hold on the corpses you have amassed.”

Nefiume’s glare never wavered, and a silence stretched for several minutes.

“As you wish.” Typhon spat. “I shall take the warrior, and leave you a dead king.”

A single talon penetrated the water to puncture the undead’s body. The water prison vibrated intensely for a few moments and then the emperor’s ‘body’ disintegrated. Meat and bone and skin slid through the water to form a pile on the ground around it. The crown, trident and gauntlet remained encased, held in place with the aerated watery blob that was Nefiume’s true form.

Typhon’s other claw scraped dismembered body parts away from the water, making a new pile to the side. She picked through the pieces slowly, tossing the occasional bone back into the undead’s prison. Slowly, over a quarter hour’s time a skeleton formed inside the bubbling liquid. The crown rested crookedly on a bare skull that was missing the back portion of its cranium, and the gauntlet was wrapped around the skeleton’s only full (left) arm, which held the trident as well. The other limb ended at an elbow. Most of the ribs were broken or missing, as was half of a foot. The undead looked more like an unfinished puzzle than the dangerous monster they’d faced for the past few weeks.

The dragon held up one last item, an oiled satchel with something inside. It’s strap dangled from one pointed talon.

Nefiume’s voice now sounded more like a faint hiss, made as bubbles broke the surface of the water. “That belongs to the king! To ... me!”

“No longer.” Typhon negated. “Be grateful I have not separated your filthy enchanted accouterments.”

The dragon’s head swung around to regard them. “Which of you should receive this?”

There was a pause, then John and Svend spoke simultaneously.

“Give it to Treb.” John announced.

“I will take it.” Svend replied.

Typhon snorted, and tossed the pouch onto the ground between the two men. “I have no need of a dead man’s things. Sort it out between yourselves.”

John met the navigator’s eyes, and pointed at Sygraid’s son. “Give it to him.”

“Why?” Svend inquired.

“It’s a book about being a Wizard. We both know you can’t use that. Treb is the best at figuring out how to use his Adept powers. This will help him after he succeeds here.” John argued.

The Evolved looked from John to the bag and back.

“Very well.” He sighed, gesturing.

At John’s nod, the youth darted forward and scooped it up.

“I’ll help you look at it later.” John reassured him, when the boy looked lost.

Treb nodded and slung the strap over his shoulder, stepping over next to his mother. Vasin sidled up to him whispering.

Typhon continued musing in the meantime. “You prioritized the warrior’s body, hoping to take advantage of the Evolved traits he carried. Had you been willing to release your hold I might have given you a choice, but those bones are all that remains of the Wizard. Now, your power to shape the air and water are considerable, for a human. Which are you willing to part with?”

The undead’s crackling voice growled back. “My power is my birthright. I may have taken the cousins’ bodies, but I have been an aeromancer and hydromancer to fear since my birth. How do you intend to take that from me?”

“Like this.” Typhon declared.

The water glowed blue for a minute, then evaporated. All of it. A swirling spout of fluid spiraled into the sky, then joined with the massive cyclone and disappeared. What remained was a one-and-a-half-armed skeleton, with a faint cloud of air forming a barely discernible ‘skin’ around the bones. The undead sank to its knees, clutching the trident’s shaft to keep from falling over.

“What have you done to me?” The wind whispered through Nefiume’s teeth.

“I have taken your power over water.” Typhon answered disdainfully. “And now to bind you, so you may no longer steal the bodies from your victims.”

Two eyeball-sized sapphires appeared in the dragon’s other claw. They glowed with the same blue aura as Typhon popped each one into an ocular socket on Nefiume’s skull. The light intensified, stretching to mark all of the air which constituted the undead’s remains before fading almost entirely.

“Now, you are banished from this place, forever.” Typhon sentenced. “My servants and progeny can sense your eyes from leagues away. Should you ever attempt to return they shall shatter your bones and bury you on the bottom of the sea. As the sapphires bind your form, if you remove them from their place, they will cause you to disintegrate, blown away by the very wind you claim to control.”

“You cannot do this to me!” The wind howled from Nefiume’s open jaw.

“I have done it. There is nothing you can do. Now go!” The dragon pointed at the portal stone.

The skull turned to regard the stone arch. “The funeral stone?”

“Yes. Stand on it. Now.” Typhon ordered.

The undead hobbled awkwardly on its half-formed foot over to the rock platform. Nefiume used his trident like a cane, clicking loudly on the hard surface with each step. As soon as the undead set foot on the raised dais itself, blue flames sprang into place in the two niches on the sides of the arch.

In a blink, their foe vanished the instant both feet were on the platform. The flames winked out as well. Typhon turned to regard the crew.

“You have the remainder of this day, to mourn your fellow and recover. It shall not count against your three. I will receive you at the Challenge House starting at dawn, tomorrow.” Typhon moved her head down, zeroing in on John.

“You are the Visitor, yes?” She asked, as though she already knew the answer.

“I am a Traveler now, but yes.” John admitted.

“You I do not give the normal time.” The dragon told him harshly. “Should you not come to Challenge me by sundown tomorrow, I will come consume you. And take off that water-crossbow. I’ll not have the Mer-folk breaking peace another time over it.”

With a sigh, John unstrapped the harness, weapon and bolts all, and handed it over to Typhon’s outstretched claw. As soon as she held it, the dragon curled her talons, crushing the weapon to pieces. Pieces that she tossed over the cliff, into the water below.

“Oh, and go visit the other world you’ve been offered before you come Challenge. Someone wishes to converse with you.” The dragon tossed this parting shot over her shoulder as she stalked around the humans to reenter the wall of water.

The Raiders held a brief memorial service for Ozur, while the others watched silently. The time spent sailing together as crew had forged bonds between them, Raiders, Watchmen and former slaves all. But it hadn’t erased the divisions between each group, by any means.

Even those who still harbored the most hatred stood in mute respect. Ozur had showed no favorites, acting as a leader to everyone regardless of their origin. Curious about the mechanism, John watched closely as one of Ozur’s friends held a torch to the oil-soaked body. The flash was brief, and blindingly bright, but he thought he’d seen a pair of black flames, almost light-absorbing negative tongues, outlined in white flicker for just a moment in the niches on each side of the arch.

The ceremony ended anti-climatically, with people drifting off in groups to go get some food, or rest. After a while, only John remained, staring blankly at the now-empty portal arch. He stood in place for over an hour before one of his friends returned to find him.

“Shon, my friend, how do you fare?” Hal spoke quietly.

John blinked. “I’m all right. I just really don’t want to deal with going to a whole new world. Especially one where I know somebody’s waiting for me. Ugh.”