Surrender to the Will of the Night - By Glen Cook Page 0,85

ichors filled the water.

Februaren remarked, “If there’s anything else out there that will bring it.”

Iron Eyes lamented, “Those krakens are as intelligent as us. But their minds are more alien than you can imagine. They were created by the Trickster. Accidentally. It’s a long nightmare of a story about giants and incest and revenge gone awry. The krakens hate the Old Ones, the more fervently because they could never do anything about it.”

“Uh …”

“They hate the Sons of Men almost as much. The mother of them all was a mortal fathered by the Trickster. These are the last of them. Unless some escaped to the middle world when the way was still open.”

The krakens out there were far bigger than these. These could not pull down anything larger than a coracle.

“The closing ought to put the Aelen Kofer on their list, too.”

“Oh, right at the top. Yes.”

Februaren muttered, “With the Night all evils are possible and most are probably true.”

The shark rolled, thrashed, then sounded. And that was that for several minutes. Then the killer fish broached so violently that for a moment it was entirely free of the water. It rolled, came down with the kraken between it and the water. Stunned, the kraken lost its grip.

“There’s the end, then,” Iron Eyes said. “The shark will finish the kraken, then bleed to death.” He gestured to his companions.

The dwarves boarded the ship, took in the rotten mooring lines. The mer protested vigorously. The combat continued out in the harbor. The kraken had to get back on and hang on if it hoped to live. It could not run to safety.

The dwarves found oars somewhere. Gjoresson explained, “The Aelen Kofer built this barge. Employing our finest arts. There’s more to it than what you see. Though you should have seen it when it was new and the magic was everywhere. It needed only to be told what sort of vessel to be and where to go. It didn’t have to be rowed.”

In its final throes the shark smashed into the side of the ship, breaking oars and leaving a hole at the waterline. The oars could be replaced. Februaren and Korban went below to get a patch on the breach.

The shark stopped thrashing. Two of the mer found the courage to look for the portal to the middle world. Which took only a few minutes to find. The problem became locating a good place to break through.

By then Februaren and Iron Eyes had been replaced at the breach by dwarves no longer needed at the oars. Gjoresson was in continuous conversation with the mer. Once, as an aside, he told the Ninth Unknown, “I see the outlines, now. But no weak spots. We did good work in the old days.”

Old days? That was just a few years ago.

“We’ll go for the best opening we can force and hope there’s magic enough to do.” Iron Eyes grinned behind his beard. “And if we fail, you can settle down with us back in our world. I have a grandniece who would find a human wizard endlessly fascinating.”

“If need be.” But he didn’t want to entertain that bleak a future. Instead, he began contemplating a possible alternate method of attack.

The world of the dwarves, in story, had its own connections with the middle world. Maybe the ascendant could be brought to the Realm of the Gods the long way round.

How would Korban Jarneyn respond to that suggestion? Maybe his grandniece would like to play with a newly minted Instrumentality.

Februaren glanced across the harbor. The dwarves from the mountain had returned to the quay. They did not appear to be filled with good cheer.

Gjoresson stayed focused on the gateway. He gathered his companions, muttered with them, then the lot put together something indistinct. They pointed it at the portal, right where it met the dead water.

A spot of ruby fire came to life.

Februaren stared. The bounds of the world could not be discerned by his eye. Harbor and sky seemed to roll right on. Yet ripples caused by the barge made little splashes against something right where the dot shone. Seabirds wheeled in the distance, fishing, but never came close. Clearly, they could not see the barge or harbor.

The dwarves broke up. Most went to the oars. The barge wobbled back to the quay. Iron Eyes said, “I need more help. Particularly from those who closed the way, back when.”

Curious. Gjoresson kept talking like those events had taken place in the remote past.

The barge