Her body would be crushed! Unless … She imagined her real body protected in armor, just as she outfitted her dreamform, but stronger, more like a golden sarcophagus. Strong and impregnable, and capable of withstanding any sort of violence, especially that inflicted by a fall from a great height. It would have to be enough.
The ship plummeted. The mist streamed by on both sides like reversed waterfalls.
When Green Siren hit the ground beneath the mist, it shattered.
Anusha stood on the hull of what had once been a ship. It was nothing more than a heap of splintered beams and broken planks. The cabinway and forecastle that had enclosed it was gone. The deck had mostly fallen into the level beneath, and debris spread away from the ship in a wide halo.
A capsule of gold dream metal lay on its side next to Anusha. It encased her sleeping body.
A headache threatened to split her head in two. She was drained; her ability had been pushed to its utmost.
But the protection she’d fashioned had worked! She was still alive.
Unless her body had been killed by the impact, rendering her a ghost in an instant, as Yeva had been when they’d first met.
But no. Anusha looked into the translucent faceplate of the protective capsule. Her body was within, taking deep, drugged breaths. It actually didn’t look any the worse for the fall.
Thanks to the elixir, it would be several hours before she woke up. Perhaps she’d regret it later, as she had the last time. But deciding to take Japheth’s drug was the only reason her body wasn’t lying amid Green Siren’s ruin like everyone else must be …
Don’t think about that yet.
Haunting screams and obscene fragments of chant washed across her. Anusha could almost make out the words. She allowed her attention to drift up, over the broken shell of Green Siren.
Mist cloaked everything, but it wasn’t opaque-she could see for what seemed like a mile or more. The ground beyond the shattered craft was blotchy soil and stone, gray and green. Crystalline growths pocked the rock, as did tidepool-like catchments of brine. Slick phosphorescent trails stretched randomly across the earth, sometimes leading straight, other times winding into tighter and tighter spirals.
Anusha recognized the trails. Aboleths made them. Anxiety spiked the intensity of her headache. Just knowing one of those quivering bulks, or something even worse, could slide into view any moment was hardly bearable.
The mist blocked easy vision after an indeterminate expanse, but she was still able to make out towering shadows in the far distance.
A fissure in the mottled ground zigged and zagged away from the starboard side of Green Siren. The fissure’s sides followed a rise in the ground up to what appeared to be the rim of a low caldera.
A pile of broken beams near her shifted.
An iron hand pushed a beam up. Debris fell away, revealing Yeva.
“You’re alive!” said Anusha.
“I suppose so,” mumbled the woman.
“Gods, I thought everyone was killed when the ship fell.”
“I have some new dents, that’s certain. And something’s pinning my legs. Give me a hand, will you?”
Anusha pulled on Yeva’s proffered limb. The pain in her head complained, but she heaved. With a snap, the metal woman broke free from whatever had caught her.
Yeva stood up. As she’d said, her carapace was dented and scratched. Her left arm was bent so that it no longer dangled true from her shoulder. “If it’s not soul-trapping ice, it’s crashed ship debris, apparently,” she said. “Thanks, once again, for pulling me free.”
Anusha smiled. “Of course,” she said.
“I’m afraid Mharsan didn’t fare as well as I,” said Yeva. She wiped at some red fluid that stained her torso.
Anusha let her mouth fall open, unable to speak. The blood was evidence of what she’d already assumed, but seeing it in such quantity made her drop to her knees. If she’d been awake and in the flesh, she might have sobbed.
Yeva took in the surroundings. Her features were immobile, so Anusha couldn’t read anything in them. She imagined Yeva felt as vanquished as herself.
“What’s this?” said Yeva, indicating the protective casket with a nod of her head.
“I … I spun it up to save myself from the fall,” replied Anusha.
“When did-”
A groan interrupted the metal woman.
Something farther out on the deck moved beneath a fold of torn sailcloth.
“Stay here,” Anusha told Yeva. Another survivor meant she could stop thinking about Mharsan. “I doubt what remains of the floor can support your weight.”
Anusha rose and walked on the shattered deck to the sound’s source. She flipped aside the fold of stained cloth.
Thoster lay tangled in a heap of uncoiled hawser. His left leg was bent at an angle that was not natural. Blood soaked his clothing. A gruesome cut traced a ragged line down his face and neck. He moaned again.
Anusha put a hand to her mouth. It was amazing he’d survived at all, but it was obvious Thoster wasn’t long for the world.
Though … She couldn’t see any other injuries besides the broken leg and cut. But his insides must be hardly better than jelly-just as her body would have been without her dream casket.
Wait. The cut on the man’s face wasn’t as deep as a moment earlier. She frowned, then gasped as the ragged flaps of the wound curled together to form a red seam of scar tissue. Then even the scar faded, leaving behind smooth skin and a scattering of green scales.
“It’s Thoster!” she yelled back to Yeva. “And he’s … he’s regenerating!”
At the sound of her voice, the man’s eyes snapped open.
“I hurt. I really, really hurt,” he said.
The captain sat up suddenly. He jerked his broken leg out of its unnatural position, and howled at the unexpected agony.
Anusha put her hands on his shoulders to steady him. He grimaced, then looked at her. His eyes widened with recognition.
“Anusha, lass!” he said. “I remember now-we followed Xxiphu through the waterspout in the air. What does …” He trailed off as his eyes took in the wreck of Green Siren.
“On my grave, she’s gone,” he murmured.
The awful sounds emerging from the mist made a dirge to the craft’s final mooring.
“Captain-,” Anusha said.
“Don’t call me that,” Thoster interjected. “Ain’t my title any more. I’ve lost my ship and my crew.”
Anusha looked down. “It wasn’t your fault-”
“No, not true! I brought them here, didn’t I? They’re all dead, and I’m responsible.”
She didn’t know how to respond. She recalled seeing several crew spiraling out into the void before they passed through the discontinuity-those might still be alive. For a little while, anyway, until they died alone in unending darkness.
She decided not to voice that conclusion. Imagining such a fate made her heart ache.
Thoster put his face in his hands. She couldn’t imagine what thoughts were going through his head. All those who’d looked to him as their captain, dead. But it really wasn’t his fault-it was Malyanna’s.
“They deserved better,” murmured Thoster.
Anusha had no answer. Of course they did. It was an awful, tragic thing. It was too much to hold in her head. She didn’t want to witness the desolate scene, yet here she was, a part of it. In fact, as much as Thoster was responsible, so was she. She’d wanted the captain to move the ship closer to the floating city so her dreamform could reach Xxiphu. If the ship had been farther away, the crew would be alive, and they’d be safely sailing the Sea of Fallen Stars.
Yeva called, “Something’s happening!”
Anusha looked around. Was it getting darker?
Thoster rubbed at his face, then said, “The song is back.”