The Haunt of Danzig Ruin

The Same Deep Water

It was impossible to know what to expect at this point. They anticipated an initial interrogation, but were, strangely enough, taken to the patrol boat's small holding cell and left there.
Nora sighed. "Well, I thought, at least they'd confiscate our knapsacks and. . ." She hugged the messenger bag containing their most beloved items to her breasts.
Petrich's eyes were rolled up to the low ceiling, listening to the sound above. There was lots of movement, and muffled speaking, sometimes jovial laughing.
"I think it may just be a matter of time," he said solemnly. "I'm thinking at the moment they may be too busy celebrating." He studied the devise that had been fastened to his wrist. "I cannot even begin to understand how this piece of metal and, who knows what else, can reveal our presence. I have a notion that old man understands it quite well. Perhaps he is the inventor."
"Well, he acted none too proud of it all when he attached them to us." Nora commented.
"True," mused Petrich, "Not at all. . . What are you doing?"
Nora had taken out her ever present sewing kit and had removed her traveling jacket. She had slipped out the small seam ripper from out of the kit and had gone to work cutting at the jacket threads along the bottom hem.
"While the getting is good," Nora took out the parchment that was the degree document from the Woxlichen Observatory. She unrolled and flattened it the best she could, then slipped it between the tweed cloth and the liner of her jacket.
"Oh," Petrich chuckled, "Brilliant!"
Nora gave him a wink and also slipped in the four sealed letters they wrote to their friends and family. "I've plans for your jacket, too, and my skirt. By the time they take away our luggage, anything connecting us back to Woxlichen will be out of their sight."
"But. . .there's my journal."
Nora took the bound book out of the messenger bag and opened it in the middle, exposing its binding threads. She gave the open book and the seam ripper to Petrich.
"You must free it from the binding, then we can hide the pages with the rest."
Petrich began ripping the threads of his written journal and slipping the freed portions into Nora's jacket. It was beginning to resemble more a parka than a jacket by the time she had sewn bottom hem again.
The contract tapestry was the next to find a hiding place, this time in Petrich's travel jacket. It had to be folded clever to be undetected just beneath the tweed.
"Where do you think they are ultimately taking us?" Nora asked while they worked.
"Hmmm. To the mainland is obvious, but from there, we could very well be headed back west to face whatever justice they have in mind. I would not be doubting if the young lord and the old man have been on the hunt for anyone and everyone suspected in the incidents happening to Xander at Woxlichen."
"Well, the two of them made for a sad partnership. My sympathies for the old man." Nora replied, making ready to sew up the hem of her skirt with the tapestry safely inside.
She was having quite a time of it, for the ship had apparently sailed itself into a storm. The lurching of the vessel kept her from having a steady hand. She had the skirt fastened about her again none too soon.
There was another great lurch and Nora slid into Petrich's arms. He held her against him with one arm, while clutching a cell bar with the other. They watched helplessly as ocean water began to seep beneath the door just beyond the cell.
The sound on deck had been overpowered by the thunder, rain and the never ending pounding of the waves. Between the thunder claps, they could hear the sound of shouting voices and a frightened scream every so often.
More water poured in beneath the door, and soon it was up to Nora's knees. Then the door was forced open, but instead of it being forced by the storm waves, the old man stood in the entry, with a ring of keys in one hand as he clung to the threshold of the door.
"This vessel will not hold through this storm!" he shouted, "You must get out of that cell, and save yourselves!!"
Nora snatched the ring of three keys out of the old man's hand and quickly worked one key after the other until the lock released and the cell door opened.
The old man halted them at the door and worked at removing the devices from about their wrists.
"Please find in your heart to forgive me, Master Scribe," he quickly pleaded to them both, "My name is Walter Van Meer. I was there at Woxlichen at the time of Theo Xander's attack. I attended the Unveiling! I could see you, whereas no one else could! And. . .I betrayed you to him, even designed the revealer bracelets to capture and bring you back to face his judgement! Since then, I was given the truth of the Danzig incident by the spirit of Lady Danzig herself, but by then it was too late! For months now I've been practically a captive of High Lord Llewelyn to track you! But now you must survive and Theo Xander and his bloodlust can rot!!"
As the old man shouted this, they made their way up toward the deck above, struggling to keep hold of the step railing, and even catching themselves from falling all together with each pounding wave.
Neither Petrich nor Nora were prepared for the chaos that was happening on the upper deck of the steam powered patrol boat. This was surely what grew out of the few ominous storm clouds they had seen out to the west while awaiting to board the SS Harvey at the port. Those few clouds had become a perfect storm and the boat as dangerously tipping in every which way, just nearly to the point of capsizing.
Petrich could hear the shouts of men about him, but could only make out their shapes through vision obstructing sheets of rain and ocean waves. As quickly as he could, Petrich laid hands on a length of rope and hurriedly looped it about Nora's waist. The other end of the rope he looped around his own waist and tied both ends in a secure knot he had never forgotten his father teaching him when Petrich was a mere boy.
Then the boat's steam boiler exploded.
The force of the explosion sent them both flying, and then they plunged into angry water.
Petrich immediately took up the slack of the rope between them and hooked an arm about Nora's waist and worked back toward the water's surface. Nora was unable to help him accomplish this, however. The explosion had knocked her unconscious.
Petrich finally broke the surface, and saw many yards away a burning steamboat in the act of being swallowed by the sea. He made sure to keep Nora's head above water, still hearing her breathe in his ear. But her dead weight was becoming extremely heavy, the weight of their wet tapestry laden clothes making the situation infinitely worse.
Petrich. . . He heard Nora think out to him, weak and faraway. My darling, my love, it is time to stop. Stop struggling, hold me in your arms and let us end. . .
All of his being wanted to scream at her to wake up and help him stay alive , but he could also feel the lure to wrap her in his arms and merely sink into the deep dark depths. It was his death date, after all. And who was he to defy the stars? He would be no Star Defier!
So, it was apparent that this was to be Nora's death date, as well. They were to die together, in each other's arms, which was the end dream of every scribe and their bound assistant. But just not this soon. Now could not possibly be the time, so far away from home, in a whole other century, with a mission standing incomplete.
But Petrich's strength finally completely left him. His last act before slipping under the water was to give Nora one last kiss on her cool wet forehead.
                I have and will always love you, my most beloved of all. I am so sorry we are not going to survive this. . .so many promises broken. . .
               Then he felt the excruciating pain of water rushing in where it did not belong and seize his lungs and panic his heart.
                Nothing is created, nor destroyed here, master scribe. This was not from Nora, but the low soothing voice he remembered belonging to Crinoline Danzig.  You are experiencing your death in the Dream Plain, in order to arrive in another plain of existence.  Your bound assistant is waiting for you there. . .
               And then little by little, the heavy pain lifted, leaving behind a peaceful velvet soft darkness that could be nothing but death.