These Gilded Seas

Chapter Seven: A Warlock's Lair

Maj doesn't try to talk as he leads us through the makeshift gathering. A few of the loiterers glance up from their hovels, but seeing Maj's furious face is enough to turn their heads away instantly. He must be a pretty big deal here. The thought alone that I overcame him makes my chest swell with pride.

The closer we get to the back of the cave, the thicker the magic hangs in the air. Everything seems to glow—including the pale fish that float lazily past us and the silver-tinted crabs that scramble below our feet. The path empties, and suddenly, a new building rises out of the ground.

"Building" isn't the right word for it, though.

While I've never seen Zula's lair in person, I've heard many, many stories about it. Papa used to gather all of us children together around the enchanted flame to warn us about the creature Zula killed in order to craft his fortress. My youngest sister would cuddle on my right, her hands wrapped in my hair, and my brother would nuzzle up to my left. Mama would sit behind us, one hand at the ready if we needed comfort. Papa was the perfect storyteller. He'd speak louder at exactly the right parts, making all of us jump.

I was old enough then to believe that Papa was just exaggerating, that it was a plot to scare us into staying away from the warlock's territory.

Now, though, I know the stories weren't a lie.

The thing—creature, beast, monster, pick a name—that lies curled up in front of us is ancient. All that's left of it is a massive skeleton towering overhead. Its mouth lies forever open, fangs poised in perfect preservation. The left one is as tall as I am and sticks straight up from the base of its jaw. I crane my neck to the side as we approach, eyes widening as its entire serpentine body comes into view.

The magic it must have taken to kill such a creature.

We pass through the enormous skull and into the darker portion of its body. Shreds of flesh hang from the remnants of a spine and matching white-washed ribs. Seaweed and algae cling to the bones and cascade down on us like slippery, purple fingers. Everything here is as purple as the aura that permeated the cavern outside. Even the corals and anemones growing along the "walls" have turned different shades of purple. Dark fish dart in and out of the flora, spooked by the sudden appearance of merfolk in their "tunnel."

Maj continues swimming forward, even when the skeleton twists inward. Our path remains empty for a long time, until two twin shadows appear before a fabric-covered archway.

If I considered Maj to be menacing, then these two are downright sinister. Black ink covers their entire bodies—from head to tail. It's patterns and words, mostly, but pictures have been purposefully placed here and there as well. The majority of the pictures are of humans. Upon closer inspection, I realize what's happening to them, though.

It's humans being murdered. Brutally.

In one depiction, a man is being hanged. In another, beheaded. In yet another, a woman's being drawn and quartered. Each image is more bloody than the last, until organs and innards are illustrated in disgusting detail.

I swallow and look away from the gore.

"State your purpose, Maj," one of the guards rumbles. His voice is like the cascading of rocks against a cliff side—deep and frightening. Finn swims a touch closer to me, and I tighten my grip on the hilt of my dagger.

Maj doesn't even look at me as he responds. "Girl here wants to see the master."

"Not happening. He's busy."

My unwilling escort swears under his breath. "I told her that. She's—"

I twitch my fingers and snap his mouth shut before he can tell them I'm forcing him. Revealing that level of magic in front of Zula's two personal guards would identify me before I even get in. Maj might not know who I am, but these two certainly will.