Neverquest – Part 146

Characters: Malkav, Adam, Fayrelin, Captain Jargon, Exthame, Blackthorn

Location: On the Tethys Sea
Time: Day 5 – Midday

“This is strange,” Exthame said while he interlaced his fingers behind his back. “We’re well into siren territory, but we haven’t seen tail or eye of the bird people all morning.”

Blackthorn lowered his spyglass. “Arrr… Poopdeck. I was ready to get me hands around one of their scrawny throats for what they did to ol’ Irontoe.”

“We seem to be lost. Are you sure Jargon knows where he’s going?”

“…I hope you’re not questioning the captain’s judgment, mate.” There was a moment of silence as Captain Jargon climbed the stairs to the upper deck and towered over Exthame. “I’ve thrown traitors like you overboard for less than that.”

“Shouldn’t you be steering the ship, captain?” Exthame asked, cool as ever.

“I came up when I heard of mutiny among my crew.”

“…Sir, the steering wheel isn’t downstairs. It’s at the front of the ship.”

Captain Jargon stumbled over his next words.

“…I smell rum on your breath.”

“It’s…uh, my aftershave?”

Blackthorn sniffed the captain. “Where can I get some of that?”

“Get off’a me, you scallywag!”

“You’re drunk, captain,” Exthame said. “You don’t even know which way is north, do you?”

“I…uh…that way…” Captain Jargon pointed his finger straight into the air.

“…Blackthorn, take over the ship.”

But Blackthorn had followed Jargon’s finger to the sky and his mouth was now gaping. “I don’t think I can do that, mate.”

“Why not?”

“Look!”

“…I’m blind, you damn fool.”

“Then how about a little riddle? What’s big, ugly, has feathers sticking out of its ass, and eats Men for breakfast?”

Captain Jargon shrugged. “Fayrelin’s mom?”

“A siren!”

Jargon looked up. There, circling the sun, was one of the deadliest sirens he had ever laid eyes upon. She was at least six feet long—more than three times the size of their boat—with silver wings and braided hair to match. Her skin was ghostly pale, especially in the sunlight, and she only wore a few tattered garments that fluttered in the wind she made. In fact, if not for her long and magnificent wings, which flapped as steadily as a heartbeat, she would’ve looked almost like a banshee.

She had spotted them already—looking down at them with eyes that showed very little white. They were mostly black, with rainbow-colored pupils, and she was able to rotate her neck to such unusual degrees that she never let her eyes drift from the tiny ship.

“I told you I knew where we were going!” Jargon laughed. “That’s why I’m the captain and you’re just the lowly comedic reliefs.”

“That’s great, captain,” Exthame said. “Now, how are we going to get past the siren?”

Captain Jargon’s finger remained suspended in the air, as if he had an idea. “…We…uh…do something manly!”

“Load the cannons!” Fayrelin yelled, hurling a cannonball at Jargon.

“Yeah! That’s manly.”

Malkav and Adam remained still, staring up at the angelic beast in the sky.

“That’s not what I expected a siren to look like,” Adam said. “Not that I’m complaining, but…wow. It almost makes dying worthwhile.”

Malkav put a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Don’t say that. Just keep thinking about Natalie.”

“Right… Natalie. She’s just as cute as bird woman.”

“And she doesn’t want to eat you.”

“That’s why I love her.”

“Good. So, how are we going to beat this thing?”

“Um… Maybe we’ll get lucky and her wings will melt from flying too close to the sun.”

“Or maybe,” Fayrelin said, grabbing their ears between her fingers and pinching, “you two can start helping before we use you as cannon fodder.”

“Ow, ow, ow!” they cried. “Okay.”

“Good. Now pick up a ball and move!”

She released them.

Malkav rubbed his ear. “…Sheesh, woman.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and the siren will only eat her,” Adam said, after Fayrelin had left.

“Yeah, fat chance.”

Once the cannons were loaded, they aimed them to the sky. But the siren still hadn’t moved. She only continued to circle the sun, watching them.

“What’s she doing?” Adam asked.

“It’s common practice for sirens to gang up on their prey,” Exthame said. “Usually, one will venture out alone and signal the others when it finds a suitable meal.”

“So she’s calling for help.”

“No.”

“But you said…”

“There are six of us. Barely enough for a snack.” His face remained without expression or fear. “She’ll attack us, eat us, and continue on in search of her lunch. She probably won’t even remembering consuming us when the day is over.”

“How much do these things eat!?” Malkav asked.

“A true siren is never full. They just keep eating until the day they die.”

“But they’re so thin.”

“They’re thin because they have to be. A siren who is too heavy to fly will quickly be eaten by her sisters.”

“Arrr,” Blackthorn said. “No friends among sirens. A ravenous bunch—all of ‘em.”

Exthame nodded. “When facing a siren, you must always remember to stay clear of her teeth. It’s been said that a single siren can kill an ox and pick the bones clean in under a minute. You can imagine what one can do to us.”

“Don’t forget about their digestive track,” Captain Jargon butted in.

“Yes. Their digestive juices are so powerful that anything they consume gets passed through their digestive track in less than an hour. It’s quite amazing, really.”

“…I really want to thank you guys for letting us on your death ship,” Malkav said. “Maybe next time you can lead us into the jungle with cannibals and quicksand and poisonous asps.”

“You know of the Amazons?”

“Wait a second…” Adam said. “If the siren isn’t calling for help, what is she doing?”

Exthame turned to him. “Taunting us.”

The siren suddenly cawed, flapped her wings in the opposite direction, and flew towards the sun.

“I think she’s leaving…” Malkav said.

Blackthorn balled his fingers into a fist and shook it in the air. “Arrr, she better run!”

“…Get ready to fire the cannons,” Exthame said.

“She’s gone, matey!” Jargon laughed, slapping Exthame on the back. “What are you—blind?”

“Yes. And I hear her wings drawing closer.” He pointed to his right. “Four o’clock.”

“Wha…?”

All Jargon saw was a flash of feather and wings. Then the bow of his ship exploded and wooden splinters whistled past his head. With a groaning creak, the ship tipped forward and water poured onto the deck.

The siren hovered over them, banging her wings against their sails.

Blackthorn fired one of the cannons into her underarm. The siren squawked and brought her other wing down, snapping one of the masts in half and knocking Blackthorn off his feet. The beam crashed down next to him.

Fayrelin planted her feet on Blackthorn’s stomach and bounced off him, grappling onto the siren’s wing. With a little luck, she was able to gain a foothold and hang on.

Exthame stepped back and drew his katana.

“I choose you, grasshopper!” Captain Jargon cried. He released his praying mantis and grabbed a sword from the barrel next to the stairs. “Come on, you filthy bird! Come get some from Old Man Jargon!”

The siren tried to beat them away, but Fayrelin had managed to tie one of her wings down using the mast ropes.

“Grab this and pull it tight!” she cried, throwing the end of one of the ropes down.

Adam and Malkav both seized it and yanked. But their tiny bodies weren’t enough to hold it down. With another beat of her wing, the siren snapped the rope back, sending the two men flying. Then she lifted her head and let out a fearsome wail.

Blackthorn rolled across the upper deck, fighting against the rushing water. “Go for her throat! It’s open. It’s open!”

That was the last thing he said before he was thrown overboard.

Fayrelin scurried onto the siren’s back, but the hurricane caused by the flailing wings was too much. She was thrown off, landing in one of the ship’s sails that was still upright, and slid all the way down.

She was unconscious before she hit the deck.

The siren beat her wings and broke through another mast.

“Fayrelin!” Malkav cried. He climbed out of the wooden wreckage he was in and threw his weight against the falling mast. It wasn’t enough to stop the beam from collapsing, but it crashed through the ship’s railing instead of Fayrelin.

Malkav quickly dropped to his knees and scooped Fayrelin into his arms. She was bleeding from the lips.

“Captain, we have to abandon ship!” he yelled.

Captain Jargon sliced the siren’s heel with his sword and took cover behind the fallen mast. “Don’t you abandon me, boy. Don’t you leave us here to die.”

“We can’t beat this thing! She’s too powerful.”

With a scowl on his face, Jargon looked up. The praying mantis had managed to perch onto the siren’s shoulder and was using its claws to dig into her neck.

“We still have a chance,” Jargon said. A surge of seawater sprayed his face. “Cover my back, boy!”

Malkav watched him jump over the mast and then picked up Fayrelin. “…We need to get out of here.” He looked around—for a spare row boat or a piece of driftwood big enough to float on—but there was nothing.

Adam rushed over to him with a cannonball in hand and stuffed it into one of the cannons. “Why are you just standing there!?”

“We have to get out of here, Adam.”

“But what about our crew?”

“They’re not our ‘crew,’ Adam. This is just a game.”

“I know, but—”

“I’m not dying here. I have to live to tell Siarra how I feel.”

Adam started to aim the cannon and then stopped. Angry waves beat at his back. “…I do want to tell Natalie I’m sorry for ignoring her.”

“Then come with me.”

Adam thought for a moment. Then his hands fell from the cannon. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

The last thing they saw when they looked back was the siren twisting her neck around and biting the praying mantis’ head off. The head, she swallowed. The rest, she spat back down.

Captain Jargon cursed her and raised his sword again. But it didn’t matter. With one last clap of her wings, the siren broke free of the ropes. They rained down, along with all the broken wood and ship fragments, and buried Jargon.

The ship creaked and snapped in two. Water quickly flooded the cabins below.

The siren cawed, mocking the destruction she had caused, and looked down.

Only Exthame remained standing, like a stone statue under those darkened shades and silver hair, as the waves of the ocean battered against him. His katana glittered in the sunlight and still his face showed no emotion.

“…Come, my avian sister,” he said. “It’s been far too long.”

And so it began.