Page 74 of Eldritch (The Eating Woods #2)
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
KAZHIMYR
A tide of nausea swelled in the pit of Kazhimyr’s gut, as he stared out the cloudy galley porthole above Dravien’s head, watching the slate blue water slosh with the ship’s rocking.
The scent of brine and charred meat clung to his nose and throat, failing to banish the pungent reek of gutted fish.
Tired and weathered wood creaked, as the merchant ship carried them from Wyntertide, down along the southern coast, to where they hoped to land in Veneficarys by the eve of the following day.
A faster route, but certainly not the easiest to travel, as far as Kazhimyr was concerned.
Dravien had gotten them passage on the ship, claiming the captain was a long-time friend, but Kazhimyr hadn’t come to trust him—or his friends—any more than the first night they’d run into him at the tavern.
The ship lurched as a wave crashed against it broadside, jostling the pots and pans and making them clank behind him.
An oil lantern swayed from a hook, casting erratic shadows that set his stomach roiling and his last meal creeping its way up his throat.
He’d traveled the seas before, but never on a stretch that thrashed and snarled as if it might chew the keel clean off.
“You’re not much of a seaman, are you?” Dravien smiled as he sat across from him and tipped back a sip of ale. “Looking a little peaked.”
“Never liked the sea much.”
Beside him, Ravezio sat casually in his chair, unbothered by the constant heave of the hull, and sipped his ale.
“I remember the first time I ever traveled to Vespyria from Calyxar. Came down past Maleviarys on route to Wyntertide. Was a horrible storm that rocked the ship like a beast thrashing its prey. A half-dozen men went over into that icy sea.” He knocked on the porthole window behind him.
“Watched from the galley as the Syrenians surrounded and devoured them. Their teeth like sharpened blades. They like taunting their prey, making little cuts at a time. The scent of blood in the water puts them in a frenzy.” The smirk never faded from his lips as he stared off, as if lost to the vision.
“But not like a shark. Sharks are honest kills. Purposeful. For food and nothing more. Syrenians, on the other hand, kill for sport. They devour because they know the thought of such a thing, living broken in the bellies of beasts, terrifies us.”
The story certainly didn’t lessen the squirming in Kazhimyr’s stomach.
“Well, that destroyed whatever fantasy I might’ve had about them being beautiful and tempting.” Ravezio chuckled and polished off another long swill of his drink, before reaching for the bottle.
“The most vicious beasts in the world are beautiful.” Dravien swiped the bottle from Ravezio and filled his own glass first.
“Speaking of vicious beasts, did the good general, your employer, intend to kill Dolion?” Kazhimyr asked, ignoring the sloshing in the pit of his gut, as the ship reeled with each swell and dip.
Dravien snorted. “Suppose it doesn’t matter now. I’m a dead man, whether I tell you, or not. I was to retrieve the bloodstones by any means.”
“Was this a personal request, or at the king’s behest?”
His lips curved again, eyes narrowed on Kazhimyr. “A favor.” He buried his face in his cup and winced as he swallowed. “For Captain Zivant.”
Kazhimyr’s brows lowered. “She hired you as a favor for Captain Zivant.”
“Seems your king’s trusted don’t have a speck of loyalty in their bones.”
Kazhimyr rubbed his hand down his face. It didn’t surprise him to know Zivant was a traitor.
It only concerned him that his hunt to find Dorjan might’ve carried a more strategic purpose.
“Then, Solassions want the stones. That’s what this is all about.
The general is only interested in the septomir. ”
“General Loyce doesn’t give a damn about the septomir. She only agreed to track them down in exchange for one thing.”
“Zevander.”
Dravien’s cheek twitched as though even the sound of his name troubled him. “Her obsession knows no bounds,” he said, jaw tight.
“Are you jealous of her affections for him?”
“I’m jealous of the protection her affections affords him. Were he in my position? Having defied her orders this way, he’d suffer no more than stern words and harmless punishment.”
“I’ve heard her punishments are anything but harmless,” Kazhimyr argued.
“You’ve heard correct. And while Rydainn suffered at her hand, he never witnessed her cruelest torment. The kind I’m destined for.”
“All torment is cruel,” Ravezio said, his voice dropped to a more serious tone.
“There are levels of cruelty. The worst I’ve ever seen was what she inflicted on one of her slaves, Theron, all those years ago.
” The usual smirk on his face twisted for an expression that seemed too vulnerable for a man like Dravien.
One who’d undoubtedly trained himself to be charming, sly, and completely unreadable.
The expression crinkling his face held far too much clarity to be mistaken for anything other than fear.
“I’ve seen men suffer and die in horrible ways.
If given the choice, they’d still fight for their right to keep breathing.
But I’ve never heard a man scream for death so desperately as the night she strung him up.
There is torture. And then there’s what goes beyond mere torture.
” Dravien quickly raised his cup for another drink, and Kazhimyr caught the trembling of his hand.
“We were prisoners in the mines,” Kazhimyr said. “I heard rumors of her cruelty.”
Gaze lowered, Dravien smiled. “The stories you heard are a mere shadow. Your friend may be her favored, but make no mistake, the mask of normalcy he wears hides the nightmares. The voices. The uncertainty that any moment she might find him when he’s least expecting it.
She’s undoubtedly sought him out in the mortal lands.
Not even the threat of famine and disease could keep her away from what’s owed to her. ”
“She hired you for coin?”
He sneered, swirling the drink in his cup. “A slave can’t be hired for coin. They do as they’re commanded.”
It troubled Kazhimyr, how easily he’d been lured into feeling sorry for the bastard.
“I’m gonna go take a piss.” Ravezio pushed his cup aside and stood.
“Be sure to aim leeward. The waves have teeth tonight, so you might grab more than your cock to steady yourself.”
Kazhimyr chuckled at that, his nausea settled enough for a swill of his drink. “Think I might have to piss, as well.”
Dravien nodded, his eyes still showing he was lost to thought.
As Kazhimyr pushed to his feet, he was certain of two things: their time on the ship had not afforded him sea-legs, and the liquor he’d consumed hadn’t dulled the gurgling in his stomach as he’d hoped.
He staggered with the rocking of the ship, as he made his way up the creaky staircase to the top deck.
Gusts of wind made the trek to the bow even more difficult, but the diminishing twilight had him squinting through the dark to find Ravezio.
He twisted around, looking for his friend, and heard a shout that curled the hair on the back of his neck. Ignoring his unsteady gait, Kazhimyr stumbled to the edge of the ship and peered over, searching the black water below.
Flailing hands broke through the surface. “Help!” Ravezio cried out, and without a beat of hesitation, Kazhimyr shed the scabbard at his back and dove into the water headfirst.
The black sea could’ve been ice cold, but it merely registered as tepid for Kazhimyr, whose blood temperature quickly adjusted—a blessed gift of his magic. He cut through the rough waves, swimming toward his friend, who couldn’t keep his head above water.
Something struck his leg, but Kazhimyr ignored it, keeping on toward Ravezio.
When he finally reached him, the other Letalisz had just sank below the surface again, and Kazhimyr dove under for him.
A soft glow lit the water beneath them, and Kazhimyr twisted around as something slipped past him. Another slipped past on the other side.
Sharks?
He couldn’t tell, the way they moved so quickly and fluidly in the water. Clutching Ravezio’s arm, he dragged him upward, and both of them broke the surface on a gasp of air.
Ravezio coughed and spat water, as Kazhimyr kept his eyes on the movement below them. “They…pulled me right…off the deck.”
“What are they?”
“Think they’re the Syrenians…Dravien mentioned…tried to bite me, but…I don’t think they cared for my blood much.” He wheezed a chuckle, gripping Kazhimyr’s shoulder to stay above water. “Damned fish harpies.”
The ship stood like a beacon beyond their grasp, and Kazhimyr gnashed his teeth. A hot streak of pain slashed the back of his leg, and he jerked forward. “Fucking hell!”
“They’re toying with us.”
“Let’s see how well they swim in ice.” He growled and held out his hand to the water, sending a white mist across the surface.
Swells of waves froze into place, looming over them like crystal giants.
Their bodies bobbed in a diminishing halo of water, as the ice closed in around them.
Kazhimyr yanked Ravezio to the edge of a flat stretch and, in one heave, hoisted him upward.
Ravezio clawed at the ice for purchase, but slid back into the water on a splash. “Too damned slippery!”
“Let me go first.” Kazhimyr curled his hands into fists and small spikes bloomed across his skin. He climbed his way up the edge of the ice to the flat surface, pausing only a moment to take a breath.
“Mind hurrying? Those things keep brushing against my leg.”
“They must’ve swam beneath the ice.” Kazhimyr reached over the edge, offering the crook of his arm and keeping one spiked palm grounded, and hauled his friend up onto the ice.
Once out of the water, Ravezio rested his head against the surface, shivering. “Think I have to piss again.”