Only part of the ship crashed into the platform. It was the top of the mast's crow’s nest that sliced through the flat surface via the mighty momentum like a knife through butter.
Ilene’s mouth raised open as wide as her eyes when this impact rattled the surface. Every sight turned into a scribbled mesh before her. The crow’s nest even had a passenger within. This man, seeing the sudden ascent into the platform, jumped out to avoid being sliced, but the spare inertia carried him overhead and straight into the sea as well as into his death. All this chaos kicked even more boxes from the deck. “Aw, come on,” whined the merchant. “I really should have tied those down." But Ilene’s thoughts were not on the losses of commercial profit. She beheld the men that were leaping off the falling ship or hanging on for dear life as it sailed into the death grip of the sea. She could hear the weeping and wailing gathered in an unharmonious chorus biding for mercy. It was the most horrible sound that ever reached her ears. “All those deaths…” murmured Ilene as the ship dipped down into the billows of the depths. Seeing that the crisis was passed, Hound mocked his failed-killer. “You couldn’t hit me even if you had a whole fleet of ships to throw.” Hound kicked the last remaining box in Marl’s direction. The fat merchant gave a shrill cry of dismay. “Was that really necessary?” The platform was nearly cleared to the opening in Princberg’s orb when Marl yelled a vow. “One day, Hound,” his echo from far below gave off the wincing crackle made by a dying iceberg. “One day justice will come to all. It will come to the big as well as the small.” With that, the old giant and the sea were swept out of sight by rock formations passing by the ascent through the orb's tunneled bowels. It was dark in this vertical cave. Yet it swiftly passed a calm over Ilene that she savored with each fresh gasp. The only light that was seen was shimmering above. Hound whooped and sighed at his triumph. “I can’t believe that I just lived through facing down a giant.” To Ilene, he asked, palming her hands into his as if he could see her in the dark, “I say, my dear, care to buy your knight in shining armor a drink? I know a devilishly wonderful pub here in Princeberg. I’d dare even call it the best. It’s been years since I last saw it. If I could only remember what part of town it-” The pudgy merchant tapped out at Hound’s chest in anger. “You’re not dealing with a giant anymore, boy. Now you’re dealing with me!” Amused, Hound asked, “Do you know where the pub is? I think it’s called the ‘Snake’s Foot’ or ‘Gorgon’s Ankle,’ or something like that." The merchant grumbled aloud. “No! No! What you are actually going to do is work off the money that you and your lady owe me for all our lost goods from your wild scene that you just made. So, instead of going to a pub to drink, you’re off to my pub to work off your debt.” Hound scoffed, “Sorry to disappoint, friend.” He flicked the man’s hand off of his chest. “I’m in between jobs and I don’t wish to work one that is beneath me.” The platform reached its destination. Past the hole was the upper crust of the orb where its populace dwelt. This particular part of it contained the backyard of a two-story brick building surround by fences. An automatic gas powered pulley’s wench stopped its heated work and cooled vaporously. In the spot light of the sun again, the merchant clashed into Hound. The two began to wrestle about the ground. Hound wound the man into a choke-hold. Ilene hurried over to break it up. “Please. Let the poor man go, Mr. Hound.” He wouldn’t stop. The merchant squawked in dying pain. Ilene used her only resort left. “That’s a royal order, Hound.” Hound dropped his jaw as well as his hold. One of the other merchants jumped back in shock once he glanced further at the girl. “Hold on,” one surprised man said to Ilene, “I know you.” He looked her over once more to make sure. “You’re Princess Ilene. From the ship where Isaac got beaten up.” “Which one?” asked a slender man in overalls among them. “I’m talking about the one where Isaac lost those boxes, Craigson.” Coughing back to life, the pudgy Isaac flourished his cape up and adjusted his hat. “Indeedly so. It’s all true, except for the fact that I did not lose those boxes. It was that brutish captain’s doing. If you two see him again, tell him that he owes me for lost materials as well.” “We can’t,” Ilene solemnly said. “He’s dead. They’re all dead. At my wedding party, the Eurasian royal family was killed by the order of the empress seizing power. Then she proceeded to kill the crew when I refused to join her in her plan for world conquest. We are all that’s left.” It felt both good and terrible to let this recounting of her troubles out all at once to strangers. The merchants stared sadly at her plight. Jake, the former jester, jostled at Isaac’s shoulder. “Remove your hat in respect, you impolite oaf.” Isaac fumbled it off. A moment of silk withered past. Hound used this quiet second to spit from the scrape he just had. Isaac put his hat back on while leering at Hound. The head merchant attempted to reignite conversation. “Well, er, perhaps we got off on the wrong foot, my lady. Let’s start fresh. I am Isaac Inklewood, born and raised upon this floating rock. I am the proprietor of ‘Royal Services,’ the most refined business of the skies.” Ilene inquired, “What sort of business do you conduct in a pub?” “Er, it’s a cornucopia of things. We deliver, buy, and sell goods. We run your standard drinking establishment, met by all the standards of legal codes, mind you. We also-” “We are entertainers of the highest dramatic degree, plays of triumph and tragedy- all the best for pleasing the public," excitedly interrupted the jester. He rushed in with his chirping bells about him and shook Ilene’s hand manically. “Boy, it is a grand pleasure to see you again.” Ilene hopped back in surprise of a memory that Marlene recently ignited before her dying. "That's right," said Ilene with enthusiasm rising to match his, "you were the funny jester in my court." The jester perked up even more in reply. “That's right! Yes! I used to be the court jester of the Pangean royal court. I spent my days making you laugh and nights in the lap of luxury.” “Those were the days,” he wistfully said staring at his inner-view of those ideal times. “Indeed, brother,” said the tall man called Craigson, “I also recall that Isaac and I were minstrel players in the same place until the day you were found fooling with a servant girl in our quarters. All three of us lost the job because of you. To this day you’ve yet to explain why you brought her to our room.” “Oh, get over it, Craigson.” “I never shall, but thanks for acknowledging that it happened for once anyway, you dirty chimp.” To Ilene, he bowed. “A pleasure, my lady. I am Craigson. Good to be in your presence again.” “So all three of you run this business alone?” “Barely,” said Craigson before he was jabbed in the stomach by Isaac. Isaac then explained, “We prefer to think of it as our being economic with our wages. Occasionally, we hire on an extra hand or two.” Hound sprang out a question of his own. “Do all three of you try to do plays? Quite a juggling act, even for a couple of clowns.” Isaac scowled upon his newest enemy. “That brings me to a new deal that I have to offer in relation to this recent incident.” Ilene beseeched Isaac. “Please, sir. I promise that the Pangean treasury will reimburse you for your loses. You have my word as a maiden princess.” “I truly trust it, dear Ilene. Yet I find that given this revelation of who you really are, I believe this gives you two all the more reason to stay with us.” “Why?” barked out Hound. “Well obviously,” scorned Isaac as he leaned into the face of his rival, “you both are trying to get back to the Pangean capital, aye?” Ilene wiped her eyes dried of tears. “Aye.” “Then,” announced the merchant within the comfort of his business-like fashion formally trumpeting out, “you’ll both need to work up the finances to get safe passage to Pangea. Besides, no one can know that you are here. There are animals dressed as men about this ‘berg that should never go near the refined of royalty.” Jake slapped at Isaac. Isaac was quick to jump out of the way. But he could not avoid his words. “That includes you, boss.” “Know your place, little brother,” grumbled Isaac to his employee. Continuing he said, “This brings me to the reward for our services. When we return you, we wish not for money (though it wouldn’t hurt) but only to have our positions restored.” Craigson spoke out. “We wouldn’t have lost it in the first place if not for Jake. Hopefully he can control himself this time so we can keep our place among royalty.” “Mark you, Craigson,” returned Jake, “it was true love.” To which, Craigson could only mutely mouth a gag. Ignoring his siblings and extending his hand out, Isaac asked Ilene if it was a deal. “I’d get it in writing if I were you, Ilene,” whispered the jaded Hound. “It’s her decision, you water-logged rat.” Hound turned from them while still keeping an eye on Ilene. Ilene knew she needed shelter and assistance before getting home. These men did not appear highly responsible to her as the Pangean crew did. But they knew the town. They appeared loyal to the throne of her father too. They had everything to gain if they succeeded. So Ilene knew letting them help her would help them. Call it charity or self-preservation, or even blind-faith. Ilene bowed and shook his rubbery, bloated hand. Isaac smiled. “Good. Now let’s get you inside for some food.” They walked inside past a greasily lathered kitchen. Past this chamber was the main area for drinking patrons. The empty business’s design style was a windowless den as is the standard for a pub. Almost a dozen tables surrounded the main bar 's concession for drinks. Ilene sat down excitedly at the bar upon a rickety stool and watched as Craigson went behind the counter to dig for food among the boxes piled under the sparse collection of bottled beverages. She felt childish for swinging her legs on the stool. But she was just trying to loosen herself up after all her troubles. She was especially conscious of this when Hound sat slowly down next to her and eyed her giddiness. She had a right to be a little excited. It was her first decent meal in days. Though, ‘decent’ may have been pushing it as Craigson emerged from the hay stack of boxes to retrieve a plate filled with hard bread and cheese on the verge of going bad. Hound grimaced at the sight and smell of this spread Isaac opened his snarky mouth that was starting to habituate a frustrated twitch in the left eye of Hound. “We apologize that we don’t have any more food. It was recently lost to us as you might know.” Hound ignored the obvious poke on losing the supplies earlier. Instead he scarfed down the food with as much will as he could muster. He ate it so quickly he was done before Jake returned from filling up cups of water for the guests via the pump out back. Ilene did not finish her meal as quickly. She savored it along with the water to help wash it down. True, it was a major down-fall from the feast shared by the emperor, but after all that she’s been through, this meal did her much good. While the guests ate, they chatted with Jake hanging about the bar. While this went on, Craigson invited Isaac to join him a few paces out of the guest’s ear. They spoke aside from the rest of the group. Craigson said, “You make a good point, boss. What are we going to do about business without our order of food and alcohol? Worse yet, since that ship’s been destroyed, how can we count on future deliveries?” Isaac removed his hat to scratch upon his curled locks. “We’ll just have to borrow from suppliers in town. We could fall back on more of the entertainment side of the business. I’ve still got that play that I’ve been wanting us to perform in.” Craigson refuted, “Never. We are never performing in another one of your melodramatic travesties.” “This one is a classic. I’m sure of it.” “What’s it about?” Grinning, Isaac said, “The fall of the goddess.” Craigson shook his head. “That old story?” “Listen, I re-wrote the tale to make the goddess more sympathetic than the legend usually dictates. It will have them weeping in the aisles.” “Yeah. Weeping for the money that they wasted. I just don’t want this turning into another musical about the countries coming to life. You got so mad at one heckler of it that you jumped out to him and-” Isaac tried to reassure against Craigson’s doubts. “Trust me. Please. This and our local deliveries is all we need to keep the place going. You know that rent is due this month.” “We still owe from last month too.” Isaac sat down at one table while placing his hat on the top of it. He then put his feet up on the pillowy hat and leaned back. We looked on at Ilene as he spoke on. “Don’t fret. I read in the Daily Pamphlet that worrying as you do is bad for sleep. We got our new employees to help us. One of whom will not only manage to fill the role of the goddess much better than one of the prostitutes around the corner, but she will also guarantee us a ticket back to our old jobs.” Craigson sat down across from Isaac. He looked upon Ilene from behind his brother's shoulder. “It’s a long shot. But its better than no shot at all.” “If we make the said shot, we shall live our happy-go-lucky lifestyle again. Write material all morning, make the royals laugh during lunch, live in luxury by night, and we do the same thing every day for the rest of our comforted lives. And even if we miss the shot, well, we didn’t have much to lose to begin with now did we?” Craigson finally gave in to the plan as he nodded happily. “I’d drink to that if we had drinks left.” “Spoken like a true opportunist.” They tapped imaginary cups together while making a fake ‘clink’ sound and they heartily drank their fictitious hooch. Ilene approached them with the dirty dishes. “I’d be happy to begin my services for you gentlemen by cleaning these dishes.” Isaac looked back to Craigson in unbelief stretching from his eyes. Turning back to Ilene, he said, “That is awfully kind, but, er, you’re a princess and only Jake does the dishes around here.” While wiping the table scraps up with a rag, Jake rebutted, “That’s only because when I worked on only food in the kitchen, I tended to poison the food for customers that I don’t like.” Ignoring the scoundrel, Isaac informed Ilene that, “You’ve much work to do. That is true. But we’ve no need to bring you to such a servile and lowly state all at once. Perhaps your servant Mr. Hound wouldn’t mind…?” But Isaac lost sight of the surly sea mate. Jake explained, “He already went upstairs. Decided to make himself at home.” Isaac asked, “Did you tell him where the guest rooms were?” Jake pondered while fiddling with one of his bells about his clothes. “I think I forgot.” Repressing a jumbled string of cursing insults, Isaac assured Ilene that they would get the dishes. But Ilene noted that she used to help her maid in the palace with the dishes. “It taught me responsibility,” she emphasized. “Well, that won’t be your responsibility here, at least for tonight. You’ve had a very hard day. Go upstairs. Sleep. Unwind. Jake will show you to the guest room.” She questioned further, “Are you sure?” “Absolutely.” She bid them good night. Ilene laid her hands on each merchant’s shoulders. “I thank you. You are both wonderful men.” “We try,” said Craigson graciously. As Ilene exited the room with Jake, Isaac called to the former jester. “Make sure that Mr. Hound isn’t in my room.” “What if he’s in my room?” “Let’s hope he then brought a lady in with him. Then you’ll see how we felt when you cost us our jobs. So there!” Jake led Ilene away, lost for a reply. Craigson queried his big brother. “Do you think she’ll get on our nerves?” Isaac sighed. “I’ve lived and worked for years with you two. I think that I can a handle a princess.” After being led to her room, she felt her way through the dark only to land on the bed in deep sleep. She decided to take a closer look at her room in the morning. She needed sleep. She earned it.
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The rain died away eventually as the large conveyance named Marl carried his passengers along. During these long miles of strides, Ilene began to settle herself comfortably into her unconventional quarters. She worriedly flashed a few looks to Hound as the mate kept his musket pinned above Marl’s throat. The throat was constantly swallowing deeply in fear. While stepping over the mountains, Ilene fancied a look at their vast landscapes. It was just as the late Cock said. They stretch beyond each end of the horizon. Yet from this vantage point atop Marl’s collar bone, the sight seemed greatly diminished. A steady wind tickled Ilene’s skin. This gave her goosebumps and made her wish to sit back for fear of falling.
The mountains crumbled under Marl’s feet as he made his way through. He flinched slightly as one may do trying to walk through thorns. Finally returning to the sea was a relief to the blistered sores throbbing on Marl’s feet. This comfort to Marl was a discomfort to the two passengers. For the lack of the rocks being dragged under his heels created the crumbling noise that covered up the dead air between the two. The quiet of the sea made it more evident. The awkward quiet soon cracked open. It was Hound’s turn to glance at his companion. “I never did receive a cordial thank you for my rescuing her grace.” Ilene shot a look back at the stern faced Hound. He let his eyes beam out of his hat. Ilene’s first view into those eyes transfixed her. They were of a cold, unblinking blue. He had wrinkles curtained under his eyes as well, snitching that he was an older man of the middle-ages. Staring at this cruel face, Ilene was reminded that she did not much approve of Hound’s treatment of Marl. Despite trying to kill her, Ilene still sympathized with the old and weary giant. Hound should not have pressed his will so rudely upon poor Marl. If anyone used Marlene’s death to get under Ilene’s skin, the young princess was not sure how she would react. Nonetheless, this was not the time nor place for the girl’s personal judgments. So she promptly jabbed out a thank you. “So…” began Ilene with an elongated tone, “what is the plan for when we get to the orb? Will you arrange a transport for me to go home?” Hound rubbed his chin. He pulled his hat over his eyes again. “Of course. I’ll need to figure how to arrange that. We got to be discrete. I can’t parade you about and tell everyone you’re the princess of Pangea. Too many cutthroats in Princeberg. It’s one of the most crime ridden of the orb-trading posts. Just stick close to me and keep your mouth shut and I’ll handle things." Ilene nodded dumbly. She tried to keep the conversation alive as she felt it slipping into the coffin again. She stumbled for an idea until she came across a conversation piece. She didn’t realize how foolish it was until it passed out of her. “I must say, you certainly talk more atop this giant than you did on the ship. I took you for the quiet type.” Mr. Hound put his free hand upon his back and stretched it from behind. “You are correct. That’s because back during our ship’s pre-sunken days, I’d chat up everyone on board. Nothing wrong with that, except I tend to ramble. So Crock chewed me open one day and told me to keep it shut. So I did, when necessary. Now there’s no captain to chew me out. Besides, taking charge like I am calls for me to speak up more than I usually do regardless. It’s quite liberating actually.” Ilene asked, “Do you have any personal plans after you return me home?” “That’s a personal question,” quipped Hound. “I suppose that I’ll end up getting knighted for my heroic feat. ‘Sir Hound’ has a nice ring, don’t you think? Maybe our good King will even offer me your dainty hand in marriage. That wouldn’t be a bad day’s pay.” Ilene started up and kicked back at the idea of being with this slimy man. He had to notice of course. “Kidding of course. Keep it together now. I like riding solo just fine, thanks anyway. There’s a wider market of women to keep me in pleasure if you take my meaning. Besides which, I may take up a more grounded trade. Anything to keep me out of wild countries like Eurasia. Not to mention the even wilderer seas.” Ilene accidentally blurted out an unexpected yawn. After a definite pause in reaction, Hound said, “Why don’t you get some sleep, my grace? I’ll wake you if something exciting happens.” So Ilene let herself be rocked asleep by the rhythmic lull of Marl’s steps. “Ilene. Wake up.” Ilene did not stir. “Marl, be a dear, and make a loud cough. That should start her up.” Marlene used to say that even an avalanche falling through broken glass could not wake that girl from her over-sleeping. The giant’s cough was very much similar to such an unlikely sound even if it did a good job of jolting Ilene’s sloppy eyes wide open. Her hair was sloshed into a scribbled mess. Even her hair braid made it worse by holding the pony-tail back in its wrinkled slouch. “What is it,” demanded the cranky princess. She was not a morning person. “We’re almost upon Princeberg,” answered Mr. Hound. Miles off, Ilene spotted the floating rock that held a series of jaded, nearly colorless, buildings. One of the pulley trains were on their way up. Ilene saw a ship sailing away. Most of the crew’s mates were ignorant of the giant behind its route. Some of the lazier ship members relaxing on the stern saw the colossal sight. Except, they resolved that it was best to keep their vision a secret. It’s bad enough the captain accuses them of being lazy, let alone mad. “The idea,” explained Hound, “is to get to that pulley’s platform bringing in traded goods. You can see that the orb is too high for even our slim friend to reach.” Hound began addressing his slim friend. “So, Mr. Marl, I’ll need you to pick up the pace before the pulley flies out of your hands. Ilene, I need you to be ready jump on to it when we are close enough.” The giant’s strides sped up and were like the galloping of her favorite horse back home. But the beloved beast, ‘Sweetie Bird,’ as Ilene called it, never galloped so hard as to jumble the foundations of the world. It was amid this vibration of Ilene’s footing that a terrible thought filled her to the brim with worry ready to spill. “Mr. Hound, what if Marl tries to kill us once we’re off his body?” Marl’s progress came to a full stop. Ilene nearly wobbled off, but she managed to cushion a bump of her head somewhat on the collar bone that acted as a kind of safety railing. Somehow, Hound still did not waver an inch. Hound disapprovingly rolled his eyes. “I doubt that the old brute could have devised such a thought. But thank you for putting it in his little brain. Since this factor has put a halt to my schedule, let me tell you both how I intended to deal with it. You reading me, Marl? You’ve been a good boy during this whole trip. Don’t you misbehave now that we’re almost finished with it. I’m keeping this musket trained on your throat. I can tear it up just as well from a distance as I can up close.” Marl snorted. “Don’t tell me, Hound. You just so happen to be the best marksman in the Pangean army.” Hound returned, “Care to gamble on that not being true?” Hound turned his head to Marl’s large eye cast down on him in resentment. Ilene did not see the kind of soul-piercing stare that the mate held on the giant. But it seemed to work as Marl’s resolve melted from his eyes before giving in. “Very well. I’d sooner be rid of you marauders anyway.” He went on. As Marl sprinted closer, Hound said, “Almost there! Get ready, Ilene!” Ilene fought her way into standing upright. But each mountainous tumble caused by Marl’s epic strides kept kicking her to her knees every time she got up. The vibrating sensation abruptly stopped as Ilene found that she was staring down at the rising platform. “You’ve got only one shot! Jump before it goes past." She saw some merchants upon this platform. They were surrounded by their latest spoils from a recent trade. Marl’s appearance caused a great commotion among their company. With the giant standing before them they could only stand back in awe. Seeing Ilene peering from the collar bone's alcove, the merchants pointed and made indistinct chatter about this new sight as well. Ilene looked past this and took in how high up they really were. She gulped. Betraying her instinct to hold back was instantly regretted. She aimed with her eye and leaped out before any hesitant thoughts could stop her. Suspended in mid-air, she saw the swirled clouds and deep sea below, and became conscious of her body’s heavy obligation to gravity weighing down the pits of her stomach. She reached her hands out to the platform. Its safety was mere feet away. If Ilene missed, though, that few feet would become the incalculable distance between life and death. She thought that she was going to miss it as she shot through the air for what seemed like hours. Her heart jumped directly upon the line between fear and joy when she felt her finger tips tap on to the wooden platform. Her dress fluttered like a surrendering flag in the heights of the wind. Unfortunately, she also felt the splinters on the wood’s floor sting into her tender flesh. Ilene was nearly rebuked back to her fall when a pair of hands grabbed her arms. It was one of the merchants. This man wasn’t in the best of shape. His heavy breathing upon bending down alone made that obvious. So he was nearly pulled down along with Ilene. “Would anyone mind offering a helping hand?” In response to the curt demand, the rest of the men joined in grabbing the man’s body and tunic, whatever could be reached. They heaved with a far greater strength than they needed as the whole of the party that Ilene joined nearly flung itself off the other end of the deck. The only obstacles that stopped the descent off the other side for the closest man were several boxes of many valuable decorations and furnishings being disassembled in the ocean’s cruel waters. “No,” complained the man. “Not my goods! This is not good. That merchandise was hard haggled.” No time for materialistic vanity as it was Hound’s turn to jump. The platform was practically on level with Marl’s collar bone. Hound kept the musket trained on Marl with keener intent than ever. “Moment of truth, Marl. Don’t disappoint me.” So intent on keeping track of his mark, Hound wanted to look at the deck’s elevation and time it to jump backwards. He fell back perfectly into the floor. Before the merchants could surround him, he jerked his head up to prepare for the possibility of having to fire. Hound nearly pulled the trigger before he realized that he did not have to fire. Marl only stood there and watched the human aim for him. The behemoth’s boulder-rivaling eyes gleamed upon Hound with a generation’s worth of resentment. When the platform became raised out of Marl’s hands, Hound unwound his stiff vigil and smoothed his head back to the floor. The former sea-mate cooed out a serene breath of satisfaction. “Do you know what the saddest part of our escape was?” whispered Hound to Ilene leaning down upon her protector with concern. Before she could attempt an answer, Hound blurted out, “This musket wasn’t even loaded.” He sobbed out relieved chuckles and twitched like a mad man freed from reality into his own happy little world. The merchant still staring down at the sea, spoke up. “I hate to interrupt your revelries, my mysterious guest.” The trader spoke with a cautious foreboding bubbling in his voice. “But it seems that your tall companion isn’t quite done with you.” Everyone gathered to the edge to discover his meaning. Marl arrested the nearby ship from the sea and held it above his head. The excess water showered off each of the ship’s bottom crevices, creating a tattered liquid curtain over the strained muscles of the titan. With a bellow of rage, Marl launched the great ship at the platform. As the ship hurtled closer, Hound shouted, “Hang on to something.” Ilene grabbed on the nearest rope holding up the deck by corners. She squeezed it with both hands and all her might. She was too scared to even shut her eyes. Ilene wobbled her hands toward the direction that she vaguely understood to be up. She dared not open her eyes. From the day Marlene gave her a bath that nearly turned deadly, Ilene was deathly afraid to open her eyes from within the water. As a child, she opened them from within the bath water. She just wanted to see what it looked like in the underwater world even if it was the few feet found in the tub. Expecting to feel a cool bliss to come over her eyes; little Ilene’s only feeling was the flaming darts that stung from within her lids. It was the soap that suddenly infected them.
Bursts of memory involving Ilene’s eruption from the tub in the mewling cries that were followed by the scrubbing of the soap by her maid flashed each time she went into a body of water. Though the soothing comfort that the maid brought little Ilene was a blessing, the power of the utter dying she felt in her eyes during that day felt stronger than any kindness that anyone could offer her. Rowing her arms was a journey to beat her lowering of air. Ilene felt something sliding from her head. It stung. She had to hold on. She had to keep rowing. She felt the air of the above world finally wrap around a hand reaching the surface. She craned her head free and sucked in all the air that her selfish throat could take. She could barely hold herself up. The dress encircled about her. It held her up while also weighing her down. It blocked off her arms from paddling. So she bunched a hand full of it into one hand while paddling with the other. They sopped with melting frailty in her hand. She kept shooting her other hand out for something to support her above the water. She kept getting sucked back into the deep only to kick her way back up. Wreckage swam about her. She tried to grab whatever piece of wood she could find, yet none could support her weight. They dropped her into the deep again. Punching furiously, she refused to be pulled back down. Her limbs were beginning to give out. A peeling fire began to develop in her very bones. Atlas’s body rose in front of Ilene after resurfacing upon her fourth or fifth attempt at floating on a piece of wreckage (she lost count at this point). She breathed out relief as she said, “Thank goodness, Atlas. Perhaps we can-” He did not rise further. His large form bobbed above the surface. His face drooped into the water. “Dead,” Ilene said with a chill scratching her chapped lips. Atlas’s body was big enough to support Ilene. But from the moment she laid her hand on his slumped back, she felt wrong in ways as large as the open ocean before her. So Ilene let go of the stiffened back and resolved to find a different support. Before treading off, Ilene patted his head. The water made a strange smacking sound between their skin. “Thank you. You deserved better than this.” Ilene swam away and could not help but look back as she saw the world printed on the mighty man’s back begin to sink into the depths. She was washed about by the remnants of the great wave, creating humps and hills that flung her waywardly and forcing her to resurface with winded breath and weary bones. She gasped for relief as she hugged upon the largest piece of wood yet. It was only after hanging on for a moment that she realized that it was the book case from her cabin. Those nostalgic stories were now Ilene’s only safety net. She placed her knees into an open space of the shelf’s cubby hole. Feeling the case's masonry buckle slightly, she wrapped her arms around the edges in case the bottom gave out. Ilene paddled the makeshift boat awkwardly with her hand until a thin piece of driftwood came by. She grabbed it and used it as a makeshift oar. With some stability finally achieved, Ilene looked back to the isle. It had settled in the water. It looked like a regular island at this point. Remaining tuffs of waves sprouted about the open sea. They waved up and down like gentle cradles. They were an acceptable distance away from Ilene. She still had to escape them. She looked for the giant as well, but she did not see him. He must have swam away. Her survey of the water also presented a litter of each ship that seemed half filled with sea. Ilene’s survey from behind was interrupted by a chunk of this wreckage that bumped into her vessel. Ilene had to row around a maze of debris. Sometimes she would have to poke the vestige of a ship to angle herself from drifting into it. While difficult to navigate, her time on this shelf offered her a gentle calm. The drifts of the water sounded like rain that would drip upon her window sill. She would sit in that sill and listen intently to each drop when Marlene got to a boring part in one of the very books that Ilene was crouched next to. Remembering the similarity of the sound she smiled sadly and rubbed that book. Speaking to her maid that she knew couldn’t hear her, she sighed, ‘“Why didn’t you skip to the exciting parts?’ I’d always ask. Seems to be the opposite in reality. I’d give anything to jump the pages of this horrible day.” Upon speaking aloud this mature wisdom, Ilene passed her countenance into a numb mourning for all those lost in the ship’s sinking. She nodded respectfully upon thinking of Crock’s stoic leadership, even if it had dark motives. She shook her head upon thinking of the loss of the noble Atlas and all his woes leading to ruin. She covered her face upon thinking of Osiris’s horrific death. No one should go through that. She let fall her arms to the side upon thinking of Marius. He was someone that… could have been more. But he wasn’t. Now Ilene must to live with thinking of what could have been with him- with all of them. Ilene continued to try rowing through her misery. She figured that she might as well. She couldn’t go back to those happy memories without feeling sad. She feared and believed that she would be dead soon anyway. In the back of her mind, it bother her how much this didn’t even bother her anymore. Ilene shoved on thus through the fragmented maze of lost crafts for over an hour. In that time, the tuffs of waves gathered together. They eventually conglomerated into a much large wave. As they moved closer while simultaneously joining as one, the greatest wave got bigger and closer. It preyed upon her as a beast preys upon a victim in the wild. Ilene felt the tremors of the wave as it gained proximity. Hanging over her by the time she turned around, fear seized her before the wave could. Ilene tried rowing faster. The wave’s shadow still out-paced her. Within the wave, Ilene saw an even more terrifying sight than impending drowning. Near the top of the beast’s wet jaws was a Eurasian soldier caught in the maelstrom. He was a survivor of one of the enemy ships. Seeing the girl that his crew was ordered to kill aroused in him a last-ditch passion to finish the mission. The soldier didn’t want to chance the possibility of the girl surviving the wave. So he jumped out. Sword drawn, he nose-dived to his trembling target. The target moved as Ilene hopped out of the cabinet and swam under it to use as a shield from the killer and the wave. She over-turned the case to create an air-pocket within the cubby hole. Ilene watched as the tales of her days-gone-by fell into the water. The killer landed atop the case. His knees quaked the shelf as he pierced it with a pulsating violence that made Ilene believe she was stabbed. She was rather slashed within the side of her arm by the sword punctures from above. She cried out. Now sprawled on the case, the killer could see the hole he made. He heard that he was right on target for his kill. He knew just where to hit next. The wave was inches away. With a rough vow, “For the empress,” he raised his sword for the second strike. But the second strike came from the wave instead of the killer. The weight crashed upon the killer and the cabinet. It wood pounded upon Ilene’s skull. The impact left her reeling back into the depths. Ilene tried to shake it off and swim to the surface. She ripped a sleeve from her ragged dress and pressed it to her bleeding arm. If her eyes were opened, she would have seen the killer coming right for her. He lost his sword in the chaos of the downpour, but that didn’t matter. His eyes were fixed wide open to close in on his target. The two were reunited with his hands clawed about her throat. Ilene let out a shrill gasp- a fatal mistake underwater. She knew what was enclosed on her even without sight. She tried to kick him off. Her dress held her down in the watery gravity. Her body writhed like a heartbeat. Each of her nerves blipped with an inner chirp of fleeting agony. The killer held his grip, stare, and breathe firmly. They floated in the current, spiraling weightlessly past the bulk of the sinking ships. The broken crafts were like wafting leaves in the autumn. Ilene was doomed, but she was not giving up. She pressed her nails straight into the man’s eyes. The blood oozing out moistly ran down her fingers before fluttering into the ocean's mix. She was glad she kept her eyes shut so as to spare herself from the sight of the man’s horrid face in this ugly torture. Ilene did not want more nightmares in bed than she had already gained. Ilene pressed further as her eyes gritted tighter. She could feel the blood vapors from the man slithering into her nose. Or, perhaps it was her blood, or a combination of both. His grip loosened. Ilene pushed herself way out of it. The driftwood-oar was still in her hand. So she gripped it at both ends and jammed its center into the man’s throat that she calculated was still close to her. It was. The wood’s splinters were wrenched in, polluting the ocean with more blood gassing about. Desperate for breathe, Ilene leaned into this opportunity and sucked her lips into his mouth. It was coarse, dry, and also her only chance at living the rest of her life. Ilene hoped that she took in the last of his oxygen so that she could get away. She apparently hadn’t as the man pushed her away. Knowing that he’d swim after her, Ilene had no choice but to open her eyes. It was an unwelcome sight as her vision jutted awake. The water was not a vastly blue dimension. It was red. The blood smogged the water’s very atmosphere as it stung her eyes almost back into being shut again. She saw that the killer was enveloped in this blood’s fog like a soul’s spirit crimsoned with its sins. She could see that they were not as far from the top as she believed. She also saw the soldier’s lost sword floating up top too. She rushed her way to the surface. Ilene popped out breathing in more deeply than her last lengthened trip. Ilene soaked in air deeply like she was a dying elder. A brief note of her joyfully freed lungs sounded before the killer erupting forth in red fury from the water. He screamed with a hoarse howl for revenge. He punched her, blackening her eye. With the harsh turn of her head caused by this blow, she saw the sword. She grabbed the heavy weapon with both hands. The killer moved in for another strike. Swinging with strength that she didn’t know that she had, the sword rent in twain the rest of his neck. His remaining body slipped downward. His head remained rested on the shaking waters. Ilene grew cold. She looked upon the sword decorated with the smear of gore. Ilene dropped it from her hand as if it were hot. She watched it float away. She hoped that she’d never see it again. As the sword drifted past the dismembered head, Ilene’s eye got caught upon it. Its eyes stared dully facing the sky. Its chapped lips hung open, filled with an excess of blood on the move liken unto a small fountain. Ilene was transfixed to this macabre sight that she had crafted. She held her arms around herself while trying to keep herself afloat by whipping her legs about. Ilene could not say how long she stared at what was left of her would-be-killer. It was long enough for a storm to develop about her. Her blackened eye, grown swollen, stung when something tapped it- a rain drop. A down pour began to cover this ghastly tragedy up. The head was shrouded in the torrent. Clumsy gallons of rain clapped about Ilene like applause. Ilene felt weighed down by its power. Ilene reasoned in her scrambled heart that perhaps it would be best to let the rain have its way and sink into the deep. The princess lost everything. She lost her best friend. All hope of surviving was gone. Even if she did make it, she had nothing to look forward to in looking home. Her parents wouldn’t even let her leave the palace if she did survive. She’d find a confines to rest her after-life in either way. Now she has become a killer. What hope in a peaceful after-life could she even dare to deserve? The world before her seemed to be nothing more than a meaningless splatter of grayish scribble with dancing dots. There seemed to be no point in continuing on only to get lost again. Yet as she felt the blood from the killer wash away from her skin and clothes, she understood that time washes away all of life’s evils. Marlene had once told little Ilene that when she accidentally spilled some water on a patio at home. Father began to deride her carelessness. He called what she did evil. Ilene was sore afraid. That was only a word used for doomed and hated monsters and sorcerers in Marlene’s stories. Marlene requested that she’d discipline the girl. The father agreed. But Marlene did not discipline her. She told her that the water would pass away. All the bad things that happen will eventually, no matter how long it may last, disappear. Sure enough, the water evaporated the next day. Time washes the evil of the world away. Ilene flapped her arms awake with resolve to go on. She defied the apparent bleakness of the world. She wanted to fight beyond the misery. But before she could get beyond it, she had to face more as she bumped into the dismembered head out of the darkness. It was still afloat, but its mouth was bogged with rain water rather than blood. Ilene picked it up. “I’m sorry I killed you,” she told the head. “Your life was worth more than this. I know it. You probably had a family and friends.” Ilene bowed to give a respectful silence for the dead’s spirit to pass. “But I have those things in my life too. Given how gleefully you went after me in the name of your empress you must not have thought much of your loved ones. But I do think much of my loved ones. But your life was still worth something, no matter how badly you abused it. That’s why your passing was unfortunate. But your life simply wasn’t worth mine. I’m sorry.” She laid back in the water and slid it aside. The head’s face flipped over into the ocean. Before swimming on, Ilene heard a crunching sound blast out. She assumed it was thunder. But Ilene knew a crunch when she heard one. She turned to see the head was gone. It couldn’t have floated away so quickly. And it was obviously too buoyant to sink. The answer rose from the water. It was a leviathan that loomed over little Ilene. Casting out what little light was in the storm. It cast her whole world into an empty black. The leviathan was the most feared species of fish. It had an antennae that shined like a lighthouse to spotlight its food. It flashed down upon Ilene with a blinding intensity. Its vast build made its species the one to devour the whale into extinction. It ate any creature that it was bigger than- all the ones that entered the water with it. Ilene was its next morsel. Its jaw cranked open. The water flowed into its maw, sucking Ilene along. Ilene tried to swim from its damply darkened cave of a mouth. But it had her nearly set inside to clamp her within. Before a bite could be taken of Ilene, a bite was taken of the Leviathan as the giant burst from the rain’s veil to pick up the shrieking creature and gnaw into it. Colorful intestines rained along with the storm. The smell was awful and boiled her stomach. Yet Ilene was alive. Although this feeling of salvation sank away when the giant finished its meal, threw the refuse miles away, and craned its head down to the frightened girl. The giant’s voice deafened Ilene’s ears with its thunderous blast. “You are one of them! Those who destroyed my home. My family was there. Now they are gone.” Ilene tried to explain herself. “Please don’t kill me. I-I-” She hated stuttering. She composed herself. “I had no part in it. I didn’t know any one was on there, that is. It was the captain-” The giant lifted his hand. Ilene shuttered to think he was getting ready to swat her out of existence. It appeared that he was rather lifting the hand to his ear to hear her. “I can’t hear you, girl. You’re like a buzzing bird.” Ilene repeated herself without stammering this time. She raised her voice. “I still cannot hear you.” Ilene screamed her words at the top of her lungs. She coughed. Her throat felt sore. The behemoth scratch his beard with the grading sound of a earthen crust crumbling together. “You say that you didn’t know, but this leader of yours did? That’s an awfully convenient excuse.” The fringes of Ilene’s dress were picked up by two of his fingers as if they were giant tweezers. She was hoisted from the water. This left her suspended aloft like a decoration flying over a cradle. Being brought so high all at once was a thrilling horror that made Ilene feel as though parts of her heart were leaping from her mouth in between her shouts of surprise. “What’s to stop me,” the giant asked, “from killing you for justice? How would you like it if I came to your home and destroyed it?” Ilene was clapped shut for an answer. She was caught between the furious view between the orb-sized eyes narrowed before her. His skin was like a mountain slope with its folds of snow played by his rigid wrinkles and silver hair. The giant ripped his gaze from Ilene to lay his heavy head into his arm to hide his weeping. “I mean,” he sniffled with a defining trumpet, “our people have been hidden away for generations. We were never violent. Then your kind drove us away. We only wanted to be left alone. Now Marl is gone. Your people killed him. Cannon fire struck him down. It was just me and him after my beloved Venita passed. Oh, Marl, my son…” He lamented and dropped tears that mingled with the rain. He hardened his voice again. “And it is all because of your kind. I vowed to never strike back at humanity as did my father and his father before him. But now I’ve no longer a son to pass that philosophy down to.” “Please,” begged Ilene. She implored her hands out in supplication. He placed her on his other hand. Ilene landed on it roughly, flopping a few feet. Getting back to her feet, Ilene saw the first hand baring down for its dark execution. Ilene was to be pressed down until dead. But a voice stopped that fist. It wasn’t the giant's. It was Mr. Hound. “Do you like bleeding out slowly until dead, monster? No? Then desist your actions.” The morose man was seen planted in the hollow of the giant’s collar bone. He held a musket to the softest womb of the adam’s apple. “What is this? How-what is poking me?" The giant’s raised fist turned to investigative with a series of grasps about his body. He looked like one searching for an itch to scratch. “That would be my musket. Found her in a box of ammo that rode me to safety after I awoke to find that I was minus one ship. And what do I drift to? The desert island that our captain added to the seascape? No. I bump into a big, hairy leg. Charmed. Despite the stench, I climbed the heights of your anatomy with the hairs as my grappling holds. I don’t wish to go into further grisly detail on the unsightly sights encountered on my journey. Suffice to say that, in the end, it was preferable to drowning. And unless you want to gargle a splash of gun powder, you’ll put the girl on the other side of your collar bone and bring us to the nearest orb trading center. Does my bird-like buzzing come out clearly to you?” The giant paused indignantly. Ilene breathed hurriedly, not knowing if she was on the brink of rescue or more danger. As he moved Ilene to the edge of his collar bone’s hallow, Hound mocked him. “There you are, boy. That’s the proper way to treat royalty. She’s royalty you know. While we’re on the subject of labels, tell me what your name is. I’m no good at naming new pets.” As Ilene settled into the fleshly seating while laying her back upon the side of the bony collar, the giant groaned formally, “My name is Marl. I too am no good at coming up with names, human. That’s why I named my son after me. Marl.” Ilene looked to see Hound across from her. He held the musket dead in the center of the throat’s tingling center. Hound’s fingers were gnarled upon the weapon, twitching to thrust and fire. Hound’s clothes were darkened and ripped up just as well as Ilene’s were. Somehow, the man kept his hat. The hat made a cowl over his eyes as always. There was something different about Hound outside of his chin and neck mussed up with sweat down to his own collar. For the first time, Ilene saw Mr. Hound smile. His teeth were holstered sharply out of his mouth like daggers unsheathed. Hound made somewhat of a greeting to Ilene by making a mock plunge of the musket’s knife down while hanging his mouth upon with muted cackling. “Nice to see that pretty face again, princess. Finest sight I’ve seen in this past hour.” Looking over Marl’s hill-sized shoulder, the mate grumbled, “Not that it wasn’t much of a contest.” Ilene flipped her eyes out in surprise. “Has it only been an hour since we sank?” Hound nodded heftily. “Just about. My dad’s watch survived. See?” With the trigger hand weighed clumsily over its mark, Hound’s other hand fumbled a watch from his pocket. The watch was brass with splotches of gold painted about it. “He carried it with him while he was in the Pangean navy. Good times. He always taught me to stand by my country all that father/son stuff of conversation to keep me disciplined until I left that shack.” To mock Marl, Hound added, “Isn’t that right, Marl Sr.?” Marl shook his two passengers with his failed efforts to hold back his sobs. Hound giggled childishly and smiled through his teeth again. “What-” She hesitated. “What about other survivors?” Hound pocketed the watch and frowned grimly once more. “I wasn’t the only one on that armory box when I woke up from my head-ache. Crock got the bright idea to hold on to it too. Two of us were weighing it down, though. He said that his old years were wasted on surviving, or something like that. So he let me stay on it. He swam away in search of something else to float on. That big wave got him.” Hound kicked the side of Marl’s throat cruelly. “No thanks to your over-sized wading about, Mr. Marl Sr.” “All in one hour,” whispered sorrowfully. A pregnant moment passed quietly. “Enough moments of silence for the past. Let’s liven our feet to the future. Still with us Marl? Or have you drowned from this rain or your own tears?” The giant stiffened to attention. “Very good. Now then, I’ll guide you to the nearest orb. First, I’ll need to go over those mountains northward. Mush!” Ilene felt pushed to the soft of Marl’s neck. She saw the world turn clockwise and thrust forward. Ilene bobbed up and down with each of Marl’s tremendous steps. Hound kept his balance by stretching his legs out and digging his heels into the man’s flesh. “Mush!” he repeated louder with a deeper smile. |
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