Shades of Grey

BEAUTÉ DE LA MER — FEBRUARY 1843

Travelling on the old, wood ship was just as miserable (if not more so) than I predicted. And as if God had decided to test me further, the nauseating voyage seemed to last forever. I was beginning to think I would never see dry land again. A voyage to Italy from a French seaport should not have taken this long…

“Are we nearly there?” I asked Saul one night as I sat in the crow’s nest of the ship while he stood below at the steering wheel.

“We should be there within the week!” he replied in excitement.

I gave a sigh of anxious relief and stood up to stretch my legs. The past month had gone by with a torturously slow dullness despite Saul’s pleasant nature and his failed attempts to make my stay on his prided ship a happy one. Elkin had stayed mercifully far away, merely casting strange glances in my direction, as if he knew the reason behind my journey and he was quietly voicing his disapproval. He sent chills up my spine and I did my best to avoid him while he did his daily work around the ship.

Then there was the other mystery that had plagued me during the voyage: every night after a moderately awkward supper, Saul would descend to the lower hall of the ship and enter a room marked NO ENTRY where he would remain for hours on end. At times, my curiosity would get the better of me and I would stop to listen by the door where I could barely hear the soft despairing sounds of mourning sobs.

“I s’pose yer be wantin’ ter know about me secret room?” he asked the next night as we all lay on the bow of the ship and staring with aimless awe at the starry sky, a single gas lamp on the deck between us flickering in the wind.

I looked up and glanced at Forma in brief worry. She gave me a shrug of equal confusion. How had he known of my wondering? Had Elkin told him? Could Elkin even speak?

“Er, I had wondered…” I said cautiously as Forma shrank down and flew to the brim of my hat. I stole a glance at Elkin, hung by his knees over the intertwined rigging, fast asleep.

“Well, it was about fifty yeers ago, just after I had slain a particularly big Traqua…’’

“A Traqua?!” I exhaled in astonishment. Traquas were large, brutish nomadic beasts that travelled through the ground by way of aqueducts and underground rivers. Hungry, blind and dumber than a pubescent boy, Traquas were not difficult to outsmart but their size and strength made them difficult to take down.

Saul nodded and continued.

“Me an’ me Maisling, Finn, took off east ter see ter some nasty ’ostile witch clans we’d ‘eard rumours of, but we ran inter a spot o’ trouble on the way.”

Saul took a thoughtful pause and I saw a lamenting sadness cloud his face. I had a sudden realisation that I knew all too well what exactly was locked in his secret room and that my careless wandering had unlocked a Pandora’s Box of painful memories for him.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I said quickly.

“No, no, it needs ter be told. If yeh keep yer story ter yerself, nobody’ll learn from yer mistakes.”

He took a belaboured breath and continued.

“We ’eaded ter Russia ter investigate the witches, but we ended up crossing the Paluxure—”

“The Bog of Death Ghosts!” I interjected again.

“Yes. As yeh know, the Death Ghosts are souls bound ter the earth from the great battle of 1379 when the sorcerer, Zarr, condemned them all ter an eternity of unrest for their betrayal o’ the empire. So now, theys take any and all human souls that come their way an’ eat their flesh; turnin’ ‘em inter one o’ dem. Well, me and Finn were the first unlucky travellers in a very long time ter cross their path, so them Ghosts were ’ungry.”

“What did you do?!” I asked in horrified interest.

“Finn went inter action immediately, changin’ and transmorphin’ like crazy ter distract em while I got me Flamesword and me Spectral Container. I prepared ter bind ’em and force ’em inter the chamber, when I felt something in me ’eart give way.”

I clutched my own heart as he spoke, knowing exactly what had happened. I gently picked up Forma from the brim of my hat and brought her to my lap, staring at her sleeping form: I couldn’t imagine losing her...

“I looked up and saw Finn in the form of an eagle start ter fall — he ’ad a ghostly arrow through ’is ’eart.” Saul’s eyes grew misty. “I raced over and caught ’im just before he hit the ground and ’eld ’im in me arms... as ’e died…”

I could no longer contain my tears as I watched Saul look out into the horizon, bemoaning his late Maisling.

“I begged the Ghosts ter fix ’im, ter make ‘im better, but they just floated away...laughin’ as they went…”

Saul held his head in his hands for a long, contemplative moment.

“Everything from me glory days is in tha’ secret room, includin’ Finn’s body.”

He broke down into tears and, though it was a bit perverse, I understood why he kept the body. If I ever lost Forma, I wouldn’t be able to let go either.

“So, tha’s me story. ‘Ow I fell out of duty after one hundred an’ forty years of service, one fowl ghost killed me livelihood.”

“What do you intend to do now?” I asked timidly.

Saul’s face filled with a new sense of purpose.

“I intend ter ferry true ‘unters back an’ ferth from whichever port they please, doin’ whatever I can ter help them eradicate the filth still stainin’ the Earth.”

I sat still for a long moment, plagued by thought.

“Well, we should get ter bed. It’s gettin’ late and we should be dockin’ termorrow.”

Saul stood, brushed himself off and walked over towards the door to the companionway stairs.

“Wait! What about him?” I nodded to Elkin, now fast asleep over the capstan.

“Oh, ’e’ll stay like that fer hours. I swear, ’e’s part ape...”

Saul disappeared below deck and I followed, carrying the tiny sleeping Forma with a new protective sense of gentile.

I awoke not four hours later to the ship rising and falling furiously with abnormally raucous waves.

“Grey! Wake up!” Forma cried, flitting around me anxiously.

I sat up immediately, all soporific symptoms gone, and raced through the companionway to the deck, trying to avoid falling on the rocking ship.

Outside, the rain and hail fell in torrents. Lightning split the sky in blindingly abrupt flashes and the thunderclaps sounded with such disorientating intensity that I could barely comprehend my surroundings. I looked over to the captain’s wheel and saw Saul bravely fighting Neptune’s wrath to keep the ship on course while Elkin swung easily around the sails, battening them down to keep them from splitting under the arduous winds and sheets of rain.

I rushed to the captain’s wheel and helped Saul keep hold of the ship.

“Grey! I’m so sorry!” he cried over the weather.

“It’s not your fault! Just steer!” I grunted.

“No! Listen!”

With a wild, frightening look in his eye, he released the wheel. The ship followed the wind and the current of the sea below, leaning immediately too far to the right. Both of us fell to the deck and before I could stand and recover control of the ship, he immediately grabbed me and spoke directly into my ear.

“Yeh can save us all! Only you carry the power ter eliminate every Creature in the werld! All yeh have ter do is kill the one who carries the fate of them all!!”

‘‘What?!’’ I cried in confusion. What a strange thing to say at a time like this… ‘’What does that mean?”

His eyes were wide in urgency and it gave him an alarming air of insanity. He did not respond, however. He just looked at me with a dark horrified sorrow.

“What do you mean?! What one?” I tried again.

“Go ter me secret room and open the third drawer of the desk! Take what yeh find and remember what I said!” He resumed his position at the captain’s wheel, steering and gesturing like a madman as he scrambled to maintain control of the ship.

I ran below deck and into Saul’s room. Forma grew to her human size and followed me, eager to get out of the driving rains.

“Wow,” she said once we had arrived in the secret room. “He certainly is nostalgic, isn’t he?”

The small room was full of Creature Hunting lore: doweling arrows for vampires, wood-encrusted bullets for Mountain Trolls and Fire Bombs for hostile Merpeople. It was almost crippling to see so many familiar weapons in one place.

“Grey! The drawer!” Forma reminded me sharply.

I snapped out of my reverie and dashed over to the desk, quickly opening the drawer. Inside sat a long arrow made of thick doweling with a translucent, smoke-like arrowhead: a Flèche, weapon of choice for the Death Ghosts.

“Was this the arrow that—?!” Forma whispered in horror.

“I think so.”

“Why does he want you to have it?”

“So that I can destroy the Death Ghosts and all manner of wandering spirit,” I replied, clutching the doweling in respect for the late Finn.

We ran out of the room just as the ship gave a great lurch to the left and a deafening crack of ancient wood shot through the air. I put the arrow in the compartment on the back of my uniform with my other arrows and ran back into the chaos above.

No sooner had I gotten to the deck than an immense lightning bolt shot right into the middle of the Beauté de la Mer and the ancient wood began to split violently.

“NOOOOOO!” I heard Saul cry from the captain’s wheel. He looked towards the other half of his ship — the one upon which Forma and I stood — as the two pieces were separated forever in the Mer de Etoiles.

“Forma?!” I cried in horror as the broken ship began to fill with water. “What do we do?!”

“I don’t know!” she cried, equally horrified. “I can’t fly or swim in this weather!”

I looked around, desperately trying to formulate a plan when something hit my head and I fell into unconsciousness.