“I don’t see Pigwillow,” the commodore repeated.
“Wigpillow, sir,” Snork corrected again.
“Probably lollygagging,” the commodore snorted.
Snork fished a glass of farseeing from his navigator’s pouch, extended it to its six-foot length, and aimed it at the shore. “There’s something coming through the forest. Maybe it’s Ensign Wig… pi…” His voice trailed off, and his jaw dropped open.
“Well, is it him?” the commodore demanded. “Don’t stand there like you’ve seen a naked mer…” His voice trailed off as well, for neither one of them needed the navigator’s farseeing glass to see the gigantic monster hulling through the trees like a steam catapult broken loose from its moorings. With its clawed fists, the monster shattered into matchsticks huge thorn willows and towering palms, ripping them from the ground and tossing them aside like weeds. Sighting the gully dwarf still struggling toward the water, the fearsome creature loosed a thunderous bellow.
Chief Portlost and Razmous Pinchpocket were already safely underwater, their progress marked by two small surface eruptions of bubbles winding their way toward the boat, but Conundrum and Sir Grumdish were barely up to their knees. Ensign Gob clearly was doomed. The monster was bearing down upon him.
Commodore Brigg opened the hatch and shouted below, “All hands to battle stations! Bring the ship about!”
With bits of black frogsuit hanging in tatters from its champing tusks, the monster closed on its new quarry. As it ran, it scooped up a handful of sand in one massive paw and hurled it at the gully dwarf. The mass of wet sand was huge and struck Gob square in the back, knocking him out of his heavy shoes.
That was all the gully dwarf needed to set him free. In a flash, he was up, circling back away from the water and toward the forest. For a few moments, the beast paused in confusion, glancing first at the two gnomes struggling through waist deep water, then at the gully dwarf plunging into the forest. Quickly making up its mind, it leaped into the sea.
Glancing over his shoulder, Sir Grumdish yelled, “Forget the barrel, boy! Save yourself!” He plunged ahead, kicking out of his duckfeet and swimming with his arms.
Conundrum struggled through the surf, thrashing at the water with both arms. His heavy shoes made even walking a chore, and he was already weary. Fear lent him strength, but hardly enough to escape the monster.
The chaos beast paused in its charge as it reached the water barrel. Half suspecting some kind of trap, it approached the barrel warily, sniffing suspiciously and reaching out one massive hand to touch it. Finding it filled only with water and ballast stones, it snatched it up and hurled it at Conundrum, missing the gnome by inches.
The barrel exploding nearby startled him briefly, and that was all the monster needed to catch up. Desperately, Conundrum dove beneath the waves, but a gigantic hand clapped down over him. Terrible, rending black claws dug into the sand around his feet, then squeezed like strangling tentacles around his legs and lifted him out of the water. He struggled and twisted, trying to squirt free as Ensign Wigpillow had done, but it did him little good. The sand kept him firmly in the monster’s steely grip. Its jaws gaped wide, huge ivory tusks wreathed in gruesome tatters of gnomish flesh and frogsuit. Conundrum gagged as its stinking breath penetrated though his bladderpack and filled his glass helm with its reek. But this was nothing to the horror of being lifted ever closer to that slavering mouth and looking into those three monstrous eyeballs.
And then the creature paused, jaws agape, the gnome gripped in one fist. Its three bloodshot eyes swiveled around to focus on the Indestructible, now turned about, its bow pointing directly at the giant beast. The commodore crouched in the conning tower, sighting along the lubber’s line with one eye closed and head cocked toward the open hatch at his feet.
“Fire!” he shouted.
The ship lurched backward and to starboard, while from the portside bow a cloud of bubbles exploded. Out from the cloud shot a projectile of enormous proportions.
Just beneath the surface of the water it coursed, like a great long silver-nosed barracuda, a perfect triangular wave spreading to either side, a trail of tiny bubbles following in its wake. The UAEP crossed the coral lagoon in three slow elephantine heartbeats. The monster watched as if hypnotized, saw it skim over the reefs, clipping stony projections without altering course or slowing. The monster stared at it until it arrived to bury itself in its bloated belly.
It continued to stare for three more agonizing heartbeats as its black blood spread in the water around the enormous arrow that had skewered it like a pig. Ever did its grip tighten on Conundrum’s legs as it watched its life pour out into the sea. The little gnome bit his lips to stifle his own scream of crushed pain.
And then the monster staggered, screaming as though the doors of the Abyss itself had been opened. It convulsed, every muscle tightening like steel cords, including those of its hands. Conundrum felt every joint of his legs wrenching from its socket, every muscle fiber tearing, every tendon fraying like old rope, ready to snap, and then, like an arrow plucked by the archer, he was free. Free and sailing high in the air. He opened his eyes in relief, and then wished he hadn’t.
It was with something between horror and curiosity that he watched the Indestructible pass below him. Down below his feet, the whole bay spread like an illustrated map in a cartographer’s shop. He saw the chaos beast clutching at the giant arrow sprouting from its belly, then fall backward in the water. Elsewhere, the dark shadows of numerous sharks diverted from their course toward Sir Grumdish, still swimming with strong strokes toward the Indestructible, and honed in on the bleeding corpse of the beast. Conundrum also saw his other two remaining companions, two tiny figures peacefully walking along the bottom of the bay between mountainous reefs of coral. He saw the dozens of ships that had wrecked here, lying in various states of decay on the ocean floor.
In fact, one in particular caught his attention. It lay almost at the mouth of the harbor, and he was plummeting toward it.
Despite the tremendous squeezing he had received, he still wore one duckfoot. It was this leaden weight that kept him upright upon entry. Still, his splashdown drove every particle of air from his lungs, and seemed to drive his knees into his bowels. The impact nearly ripped his helmet off his head, and as it was, he cracked his nose against the interior of the helmet and blood streamed into his beard. The splash thundered in his ears, stunning him, and as he swiftly sank the bladderpack tried to slip from his shoulders. With his last particle of strength, he fought to keep hold of it, knowing that it meant his life. Dark spots swam in his vision, and for a moment he thought he was going to faint.
The spots grew larger, and it was then that he realized they were sharks, swimming toward his bubble trail down through the deep blue water. His downward progress slowed as he lost momentum. His one duckfoot was barely heavy enough to counteract the buoyancy of his bladder-pack. He was glad about one thing-his bloody nose wasn’t leaking into the water. Slowly now he sank toward the deck of the sunken ship while the sharks circled above.
Finally, with a soft bump he came to rest on the wooden deck. The ship, some sort of caravel, lay on its keel, its deck nearly level. The entire deck was littered with broken swords and cloven shields, and hundreds of spent arrows stood everywhere, eerily balanced on their steel points. The wave created by his landing, soft as it was, sent several dozen dancing away from him in all directions, gently skittering across the deck like frightened faeries of the deep. A few leaped the ship’s rail and vanished over the sides.