Drake's belt.
As they vanished, air rushed in to occupy vacuum. With the air came smoke, ash, intolerable heat. Drake, alone on the deck, crouched low to avoid the smoke. Another spar shook the deck as it fell, scattering more burning coals. One skittled along the deck, finishing right under Drake's nose.
'Come on come on come on!' said Drake. 'What's keeping you?'Were they fighting inside the bottle?
'Come on, Blackwood!' screamed Drake. 'Come on, you crazy ganch!'
He struck at the red bottle tied to his belt. Then saw – smoke? A ghost? No: Blackwood, materializing on the deck.
Everyone but Blackwood and Drake was now in the red bottle.'Do it!' said Drake. 'Use the death-stone! Quick!'
Blackwood proved to be wearing the death-stone in a leather bag slung round his neck beneath his clothing. He took it out. Held it high. Then shouted Words. They were long, tangled things in the High Speech, said so fast they were almost a gabble. Drake thought he caught a snatch of the spell – 'tabanagijish' – but even that he might have got wrong.'Stand closer!' shouted Blackwood.So Drake, to be safe, crouched at Blackwood's feet.
The sea was roaring. Or was it the sea? No, it was the sky. Grating, grinding. The flames – the flames were turning grey. The very air was grey. A red-hot coal flickered, flashed green, then went out. Still Blackwood stood there, arm raised, death-stone in hand.
There was a crash.An enormous crash.
Chunks of rock flew across the deck, narrowly missing the two men. The mast had turned to stone, and the mast, falling, had shattered.
Drake heard a crackling sound, as if an intense fire was burning somewhere. But the fire on the ship seemed to be out. Where was the sound coming from? It was a skin of rock, forming on the surface of the sea, then breaking up with the action of the swells.Drake peered into the grey distance.
Saw monsters of the Swarms writhing, freezing, falling. Saw a Neversh fall, turned to stone in flight. Saw logs submerge, sink, vanish – turned to stone.
This was a Cause with Effect indeed!
At last, the air cleared, and was no longer grey. But it was dry, yes, dry, and harsh on the throat. Drake heard, very clearly, swells slapping against the side of their stone ship. And an ugly grating sound as that ship began to crack open.But, for the moment, the ship was still floating. 'She's starting to settle,' said Drake. 'What?' said Blackwood.
'The ship. She's getting lower in the water. Hey, man – up there! Neversh!'
There was indeed a Neversh still in the sky.
'The death-stone kills nothing which is more than two leagues away,' said Blackwood in a sombre voice, putting that stone back into its leather bag, which he then tucked away out of sight.
The ship was much lower in the water. It was going down fast. Drake went to the side.'Better we jump, man, and swim clear,' he said.
Then suited actions to words. Water shot up his nose. The sea was cold!'Come on, Blackwood!' yelled Drake. And Blackwood followed.
They floundered away through the regular swells, gasping, striving, encumbered with boots and with clothes. Then they were sucked back as the ship went down -sucked back, pulled under, whirled round, coming to the surface at last breathless and chilled.
The sole surviving Neversh was flying high in long, slow circles. The entire sky was a mass of bruise-black storm-clouds. Lightning flickered on the horizon. No sign of land. .'Use the ring, man,' said Drake. 'Speed counts.'
He feared the cold. It was summer, true, but the sea was as cold as ever.
Blackwood grappled with the ring on his hand. And Drake realized that if Blackwood lost that ring, then everyone in the red bottle would be trapped there forever. And he, Drake, would very shortly drown.The ring turned full circle.
A hole appeared in the sea where Blackwood had been. Water slapped into it, kicking up white foam. Another regular swell rocked Drake up, then down. He saw the Neversh lumbering through the air, coming in over the sea, very low. It was close. And closing. Where was Blackwood? Pox and bitches! The Neversh was dangling its grapple-hooks. The hooks tore foam from the top of a swell.It was almost upon him. Drake ducked under.
And dived, dived as he had learnt to years ago on Ling, forced his way down, down, deep and under, felt pressure build in his ears. Then turned. And started for the surface. Suddenly bubbles of air erupted around him. There were hands, arms, faces. There was rope in the water, a log – no, a spar. Then-Up!
Drake burst to the surface. And up came half a dozen people – Blackwood, Jon Arabin, Whale Mike, Ish
Ulpin, Rolf Thelemite, Sully Yot. And with them, two spars, a dozen planks, some rope. Drake tried to speak, drank water, grabbed for a spar, clung to it and yelled: 'Neversh!''Where?' cried Blackwood.
And was torn from the water as the Neversh hooked his shoulder. Drake grabbed Blackwood's left leg as it went hauling past. He was dragged from the water. Sully Yot snatched at Drake's feet. Held fast.
The Neversh lifted the three of them: Blackwood, Drake and Yot. It flew on, its tail trailing in the water.
Whale Mike grabbed at the tail. The Neversh was brought to a dead halt by the sudden increase in weight. Its wings laboured.'Up, boys!' hollered Jon Arabin.
And scrambled over Whale Mike's shoulders. And started racing up the tail of the Neversh.'Ahyak Rovac!' screamed Rolf Thelemite.And followed.'Bugger that for a joke,' muttered Ish Ulpin.
But, after only a momentary hesitation, his innate recklessness got the better of him – and he too went racing up the tail of the monster.
The brute thrashed at the air with its wings and, slowly, ponderously, lifted the combined weight of six men and Whale Mike. Up they went. Up up up!Then Blackwood's flesh gave way.
Blackwood, Drake and Sully Yot crashed into the sea. Coming to the surface, Drake saw the Neversh swinging round slowly, slowly, heavily. Whale Mike was still clinging to its tail, which was dangling low. Jon Arabin, Rolf Thelemite and Ish Ulpin were on the monster's back, stabbing at its hide with their swords.Where was Yot?
Thirty paces away, keeping himself afloat with a solemn dog-paddle. Where was Blackwood? Thirty paces in the opposite direction.Drake started swimming.Towards Blackwood.
Towards the ring which gave entry to the red bottle which was tied to Drake's waist.
Blackwood went under. Came up. Gasping. There was blood in the water around him.
Drake trod water and shouted:'Use the ring!'
Better to get Blackwood into the bottle, now, before he went under. But Blackwood shouted back: 'One arm!'
From which Drake understood that one of Blackwood's arms was out of action because of his wounds.
'Hold the ring with your teeth!' shouted Drake. 'Hold the ring with your teeth, then turn your finger.'Blackwood put finger to mouth.
Then disappeared.Into the bottle?
Drake was not sure. He half-thought that Blackwood had been dragged under by something. Drake trod water. And saw Blackwood come to the surface, the sea around him boiling with blood. Blackwood opened his mouth and seemed to scream. But no sound came.
'Oh bugger, oh bugger,' said Drake, half-sobbing, half-screaming.
And struck out, swimming overarm, closing the distance. He was deathly tired as he came up with Blackwood. His boots felt like lead, pulling him down.'Blackwood?' said Drake.Grabbing at the man.
Who floated – whose torso floated. His legs were gone. The sea was red. And the ring? The ring, the ring! Drake grabbed Blackwood's hand, fastened his teeth on the ring, pulled it off – and, in his haste, swallowed it.He had swallowed the ring!
Aghast, Drake poked two fingers down his own throat. And vomited. He tried to close his mouth on the vomit, coughed, almost choked, spluttered, gasped for air – and lost his mouthful of vomit to the ocean! He saw the ring amidst the vomit which had spilt to the sea.
Drake momentarily glimpsed the cold gold glint as it went writhing down through the waters. Then he was grabbing, grabbing at guess. Closing his fist on – water? Vomit? Seaweed?Something hard.He opened his fist.Revealing cold gold.
