The Obsidian Pillar

Chapter Thirteen

'Wake up, urchins!'

A wall of warmth pushed me unceremoniously away and when I sat up straight I was greeted with the salty spray of the sea splattering across my face and stinging my eyes. I rubbed them roughly and opened them again to be met with the sight of Dalton and Ronov chaotically spearing the ocean with their oars while a grey cloud loomed ominously above us. Sebastien was frantically searching the landscape around him, probably for any sign of the Vakaarian coast.

'We all bloody fell asleep, didn't we? The storm has been brewing all night and we've been pushed in the wrong direction,' Ronov bellowed as the waves hauled us up and down in the boat.

A bolt of white lightning flashed in the grey sky, followed by a sinister rumble. I gripped the wooden edge of the boat fearfully - I did not want to die at sea before I'd seen the rest of the world.

'Where are we?' Sebastien yelled, as hard rain began to plummet from the sky. Within seconds we were soaked through and the wind was beginning to batter the boat mercilessly. There wasn't any shelter out in the open waters.

'We could be anywhere. We barely have any control over the boat,' the smuggler retorted.

Another flash exploded in the sky, briefly coating everything in a wash of bright light. A movement in the water caught my eye; something wasn't quite right. Another flash of lightning ripped through the sky and I watched on in horror as hundreds of rotting arms reached out of the water, grabbing at the boat and pulling it down. Water cascaded over the submerged side of the vessel. I scrawled to the other side, pulling at my cloak as it slowed me down.

'Providence spare us,' Sebastien proclaimed almost inaudibly against the ruckus. The soldiers batted the bloated, rotting arms away. Ronov drew his sword. I was sweating despite the chill.

Then, through the dense mist, I saw the dark edge of coastline. 'Over there!' I shouted over the din, pulling at Dalton's sleeve as the boat sank deeper under the claiming grasp of the sea.

'They are pulling us west,' Dalton bellowed as he broke one of the arms in two with his bare hands.

'Evernore,' Ronov said impassively. I looked at the three of them blankly, curling my damp hair behind my ear nervously. Darkness had bloomed in his eyes – a darkness that told me to be concerned.

The soldiers continued to battle with the severed arms. I kicked one away that had scrambled overboard, its fingers traipsing across the bottom of the boat towards me. It was like living in a nightmare.

As we neared the shore I gasped in horror when the swollen wood of the boat began to give way under us. My slippers were submerged and the water saturated my cloak, the cords of material were pulled tight against my throat.