“All hail the WarriorWitch!” the large oarsmen shouted, staring up at Cyrus, “ruler of the raging seas,giver of life, and dealer of death.”
“Clear thisblockade, now, witch,” Cyrus ordered, his voice deep and true, “before I removeit from the sea like I removed your head.”
“Ssso, the boy hasbecome a man,” Rorroh cooed.
Her voice was hoarseand raspy. Cyrus could just make out the coarse stitches holding her rottinghead to her wasting body. How was any of this possible? She limped forward, shadingher squinting eyes against the dull grey sky.
“I’ve never beenone to put weight in propheciesss,” Rorroh continued, “Just fantasies andfairytales, if you ask me.”
“Fibian, Drache,the blodbad,” Cyrus replied, “all your sentinels surrounding Virkelot,” hegrasped his rifle and rested the barrel over his shoulder. “You’ve gone to alot of trouble to quash a fairytale.”
“Mere prison guards,”Rorroh countered, grinning at Fibian over Cyrus’ shoulder, “I only told the froskmanof the prophecy to inspire a greater sssense of purpose and meaning in his lonely,petty task. There are so many prophecies floating about the sea, and each foolishtale contradicts the last.”
Cyrus fought thechill sliding up his spine.
“In one legend, asavior rises up from a weak and cowardly land to overthrow the Sea Zombie,”Rorroh continued. “In another, the chosen one sacrifices their very sssoul toovercome the Trollmann. There is even one that says a hero will rise up from abattered and broken land and rid the seas of the Vann Witch’s tyranny, but indoing so will become bitter and black-hearted, and will take her place among herhordes, haunting the oceans for all eternity.”
The Sea Zombiegrinned broadly. The rip in her cheek exposed her decaying teeth and rotting gums.
“You can imaginemy sssurprise when I learned that one of the prophecies was true, Child Eater.”
“Your lies won’twork here, witch,” Cyrus said, feigning boredom. “Your words are as twisted andtoxic as your soul. If that is all you have to say, then be on your way.”
“We captured one ofthe traitor’s ships,” the tall, lean creature in the woven silk and steel armorinterrupted.
His voice was adry whisper. A sneering bearded mask decorated the molded metal of his faceplate.Sharp antlers adorned the crown of his helmet.
“Yesss, where arethe yeti now?” Rorroh asked, leaning closer, “and what happened to the female froskman?”she said, looking fixedly at Fibian.
“The yeti are not yourconcern,” Cyrus replied, “and Moro is no more. I cut off her head, the same asI did yours, but she had the decency to stay dead.”
Rorroh began tocackle, pleasure seeming to flutter through her entire system.
“You have donewell, Child Eater,” she said, “You have slain dragon, klappen, klopsss, and froskman.You have survived the sea and the north. I could use someone like you to helpme defeat the Angel King. Join me. Claim your immortality. Rule the seasss bymy side,” she offered up her rotted hand to Cyrus. “The spider, the froskman,your people, would all enjoy the protection of your position.”
Join her? What wasRorroh talking about?
“You would have mebecome like them?” Cyrus asked, gesturing to the cowering water klops. “Morotold me of what you did, the choice you offered the other hune alves, all thosegenerations ago. Never.”
“You would not becomelike them,” Rorroh replied, “Not like them at all. Do not your ancient texts speakof the righteousss becoming Angels? If an alveling can become an Angel, why nota Demon?”
“Old wives’ tales,”Cyrus scoffed. “You bargain in bad faith, witch. Why would I want to become alowly, sneaking Demon, hiding in the shadows?”
Rorroh’s hand clenchedto a shaking fist.
“The onlydifference between Angels and Demonsss,” she shouted, “is that Angels murder theirown by order of their King. Demons kill in self-defense, fighting their King’soppression.”
“Angel has killedAngel?” Cyrus asked, incredulous.
“I alone did not rebelagainst the Angel King’s cruelty,” Rorroh sneered. “In war, soldiers die.”
“You would make mean Angel, powerful and immortal?” Cyrus asked, scornfully.
“Yes, but at a cost,”Rorroh replied, simpering. “This bargain mussst be sealed in blood. The bloodof a pure creation. This hune, for example.”
“Murder Gabriel?”Cyrus asked.
His words were lacedwith disdain.
“A fool’s bargain,”he spat. “You would have me trade my soul for rot and decay. You offer nothing.”
“I offer everything,”Rorroh countered, “and for a soul already so twisted and broken,” she said, pointingto Cyrus, “it is I who would be getting the poisoned end of the blade.”
“No deal,” Cyrusshouted. “Be on your way, while you still have the chance.”
“The captured traitorssay the hune was to be a gift for our Mistress,” the tall, masked creature interjected.“Instead, they say a Lieutenant Knavish stole the giant for himself.”
“Lies,” Knavishshouted, stepping forward.
He stared down at Rorroh,then bowed his head.
“Forgive my outburst,Mistress, but it was General Schlaue who planned to take the hune and turn it againstyou. I, along with my loyal crew, stole it from the traitor, Schlaue. We were bringingthe giant to you, but the General gave chase. The vessel you captured is full ofliars and traitors and they cannot be trusted.”
Rorroh seemed toweigh Knavish’s words.
“Lieutenant Knavish,”she said, “who now captains this, this thing?”
The witch looked aroundat the steel wall as if it were something foul and offensive.
“We were overcomeby the Child Eater and his crew,” Knavish replied.
“You were overrunby a corrupted strangeling, a cripple, and a sickly spider?” Rorroh asked.
“The blodbadbetrayed us,” Knavish said, surrounded by the many black spiders.
Rorroh waved her blackenedhand, casting aside the excuse.
“This ‘Battle Hune’,as you call it, shot at my emissaries and killed my dragon. An attack on theWarrior Witch’s forces is the same as an attack on the Warrior Witch herself. Allwater klops aboard this plague ship are marked as traitors. Those truly loyalto me would have died fighting such invaders. When next we meet, we meet as enemies,and you will all suffer a traitor’sss death.”
Cyrus looked to Knavishand Merke. Their grey skin grew pale, and their shoulders sank.
“You have spokenyour diseased mind, hag,” Cyrus said, “now leave, and take your groveling slaveswith you.”
The lean creaturewith the painted facemask stepped forward. His rodent eyes became wide andenraged behind his ghoulish mask. With practiced ease,
