Unspeakable Secrets The Alchemist Series (A Dark Medieval Progression Fantasy)

Chapter 63 The Storm

Adelia moved with her usual catlike grace. Her movements were almost liquid and absolutely silent. Connor relied more heavily on matching his movements to the guard to hide any sounds he might make.

The guard passed without incident but Connor and Adelia waited until it sounded like he'd moved far enough away not to hear them unlock and open the door.

Then, they moved. Connor unlocked the prison door and he and Adelia disappeared inside it, shutting the door behind them.

Again, Adelia knelt at the keyhole, while Connor checked the cells.

More goblins and grych as well as a pack of hygar.

They looked something like malformed wolves. With thick, matted fur, large misshapen teeth, and disproportionately big heads with enormous jaws. They looked remarkably similar to grych in many ways and Connor could understand why some speculated they were perhaps distant relatives.

More importantly, however, goblins liked to use the creatures as mounts. The Syndicate had the ingredients for goblin and grych warbands. Connor doubted that was simply a coincidence.

He pressed his lips into a thin, grim line. Whatever the Syndicate's ultimate plans were... it was his duty to stop them. But first... they needed to get off this accursed ship.

"More monsters?" Adelia asked as Connor returned to her.

He nodded. "We'll head up. If we don't see any more obvious prison sections, we'll continue up to the deck and find a boat. But, before we leave, I need to find where they kept our gear. We'll try the captain's cabin first. Provided it's where I'm assuming it is."

He half expected Adelia to protest and push for them to leave as she had with his desire to inspect the prison cells but she simply nodded.

They left the prison section and took the nearest stairs up to the deck above, the same ones he'd been brought down before, Connor was sure. The crew had done an excellent job of patching up what had no doubt been Adelia's handiwork.

He remembered those inhuman roars and avoided looking at Adelia lest she see the thoughts turning over in his mind.

Connor's breath caught and his eyes went wide as they stepped out onto the deck above. The vast, relatively open expanse of the deck was choked full of hammocks. Hundreds of them. Filled with men in various states of asleep and resting.

The light here was dimmer even than the decks below. Barely enough to navigate the tightly packed deck.

At the front of the deck were canvas partitions, several of which were open to expose cabinets of medicine and medical implements. The sick bay, no doubt.

Lining the length of the ship were ballista positioned in front of closed shutters that could no doubt be opened to fire a relentless stream of enchanted dark iron bolts from the long chests beside them.

At the rear of the ship were two doors of solid dark iron that gleamed in the light of the lanterns hanging beside them.

The runic script engraved upon the doors seemed to flow like rivers of smoke filled with the occasional spark of flame.

Connor's curiosity as to what lay beyond those doors flared... but they were well guarded by large, clearly magical creatures that stood patiently in the pools of light cast by the lanterns around the doors.

They were bulky, muscular creatures with the head of a boar and the body of a man. Their bodies appeared to be made of a kind of liquid darkness like thick smoke with eyes that smoldered a deep orange like burning coals as embers drifted around them.