Wind howled through the rocks and ice, muffling the sound of crashing waves and gurgling water over stones. Our boots crunched on the gravel as we slid around the perimeter of the island. The castle's windows peered over the tall cliffs, glaring at us with beady, hateful eyes. Like the rest of the tiny spit of land, here there grew only scraggly patches of withered grass, while creatures too small to consider food crawled sluggishly, their shells a sickly white. We were headed to the docks where, supposedly, was a passage into the northern regions of the castle.
"But I have never been there," commented Serana as we slunk.
Valindor shot a dark look at the vampire. "Then how do you know your mother's there?"
"Mother had a garden on the north side. But the way caved in. Rhondil told me of this way. I do not remember a dock. Vampires do not need...boats."
Vampires do not need boats... The thought of those creatures walking on the bottom of the sea, their clothes flowing about them in tatters in the darkness sent chills down my spine. It was, however, a better image than the creatures swimming like many-toothed fish.
"Your family isn't going to be waiting for us, I hope." I drew my bow just in case we were being led into an ambush, which I felt more likely with every step forward. Part of me was screaming that I turn back. Run. Quit this stupid journey that I was now following based on loose hunches. The horrifying part was that the voice shouting at me was Derk's.
Serana sighed tiredly, as if such comments plagued her endlessly. "We do not need boats.'"
"Well, someone does," said Val, tightening the straps of his armor and checking his bow. He nodded toward the docks that peered around the corner like a dead eye. Ships protruded from the water in dilapidated skeletons, masts angled high in the air. One appeared to have struck a pier at a bad angle, leaving it slumped drunkenly against the stone. Amid the skeletal ships clacked shivering undead, little more than bones and scraps of desiccated meat protected by rusting bits of armor.
We looked at Serana expectantly, waiting for an explanation as to why her family's servants were in such an "unused" place. Instead, her lip curled into a feral snarl. "Such filth in our home," she growled, cold magic curling in her hands. She sent spears of ice crashing onto the stone pier, startling one of the dead so badly its hand tumbled from its arm and flopped into the sea like a dying fish.
I raised my bow, our cover now blown and fired into the chest cavity of another skeleton. The arrowhead rattled hollowly as it laughed, drawing its own weapon. A guttural battle cry gurgled in the sheltered hollow of the dock as it clattered down the stairs, waving a sword in its off-hand. Distracted, I just missed the arrow meant for my eye and hissed as its rusty edges grazed the side of my head. The archer across the tiny marina grinned toothily. I fired into the creature's bony knee, breaking the fragile ligaments and hobbling it.
As it clacked its teeth in surprise, a spear of ice shattered its head, and the thing collapsed in a heap. Serana then spun on her heel to engage the skeleton with the sword. Spiraling tendrils of white ice and bloody shadows wound around the horror with the sword, draining it of life and freezing it at the same time. Slowly its frosted bones creaked toward the vampire, hatred burning brightly in its eye sockets.
Another skeleton fell to Valindor's arrows, and, together, we charged up a flight of stairs leading deeper into the side of the cliff. Two skeletons remained, though they fled at the sight of our drawn weapons and their fallen allies. We chased them to the end of the pier where ice draped over the edges in long spears. Hissing and gurgling, they turned to face us, their weapons either abandoned or forgotten in their hands. Valindor laughed mirthlessly as he spun his staff to hold it two-handed toward a creature whose head bobbed under a heavy iron helm. It held up its thin arms to ward off the attack, but Val's staff jabbed it smartly in the face, knocking it off balance and sending it crashing to the rocks some thirty feet below.
The remaining creature gathered what little wits is possessed and blasted the Bosmer with air so cold, his breath hitched in his lungs as if it had frozen solid. His fingers turned a delicate shade of blue as they seemed to freeze around the wooden branch. With a slow, almost leisurely pace, the dead creature stumped toward my friend in iron boots, unleashing the icy attack on him all the while.
Gritting my teeth, I charged, slicing the skeleton's torso as my blade dismembered its brittle spine. The magic pouring from its bony hand stopped, and it gaped at me in disbelief as it tumbled off the edge of the dock. Relieved, I turned to Valindor to offer him my cloak so his fingers could move, then my foot was ripped out from under me. With a cry, I scrambled for purchase, my arms flailing for balance. I slipped and scrabbled against the dock until my fingers found the edge of one poorly laid brick. I hung there off the edge, icicles digging painfully into my lower half.
"H-henny! H-hold on. I'm c-coming," shivered Valindor. His cold fingers fumbled up my arm, unable to wrap grab hold with their limited movement.
Suddenly, I heard a throaty chuckle just as I became aware of pressure around my right foot. Hanging from my boot was the skeleton with the sword, its eyes bright with malignant amusement. I tried frantically to kick it away, but it clung tightly as a spider to its web. Slowly it started to throw the remains of its ribcage back and forth. For a moment I was confused as it what it was doing, then I felt my body begin to sway and my grip on the brick waver. The icicles pressed harder into my gut, pushing the air out of me with a wince. As it gained momentum, each forward swing sent those spears into me, punching through the places where my armor's plates met.
"I'm losing my grip!" I cried.
Just as I swung backward with enough force to nearly dislodge my hands, the swinging stopped. I looked down. From the damned thing's skull sprouted an arrow. A pair of hands gripped my wrists and I was hauled onto the docks, feeling like a landed fish and appearing just about as graceful. Valindor breathed into his hands, his fingers sporting bleeding cracks under the first joints where a bow string was normally held.
"Thank you."
"We move now," said Serana, who released my hands as if they were on fire. I noticed her eyes dart toward my neck in a quick flash. Val stepped between us in the pretense righting some item in my pack.
"After you." My friend gestured with tense politeness, watching Serana intently as she turned to lead us toward the back of the docks. "She's hungry. We'll have to watch our backs... Or necks, rather," he whispered, his voice high with suspicion.
Nodding, I followed her lead until we stopped before a small, wooden door set high into the wall. A narrow set of steps led to its otherwise harmless façade, flanked by guttering candles that were strangely lit. Who lit these? Not the dead things. "Someone's already been here." The question was who.
Comments
Had to stop for a bit but I'm back into reading and back to the story!