Of Dawn and Darkness

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Half a year after delivering Urzaia to the arena, Calder was finally starting to learn his way around the ship. He could furl the sail without tangling it nine times out of ten, and he could steer his way through a predatory coral reef without putting his hand on the wheel.

More importantly, Jerri had taken to the work of a pilot—she scanned the horizon, charted their course, studied their position by the stars, and logged whatever deadly creature or impossible phenomenon they encountered during the day. She enjoyed, as she called it, “planning a safe route through an endless maze of horror and death.”

Calder had even grown used to the two monsters in his life: the Lyathatan and Andel. The Elderspawn, it turned out, existed in a perpetual state of malice and burning frustration. It had very little to do with anything Calder did. So long as he allowed the creature to snag the occasional shark and otherwise let it sleep, he and the Lyathatan remained on good terms. He still got the impression that it was plotting something ominous at all times, and that its service to Calder was but one step in some insidious game, but he was beginning to realize that its game wouldn’t end for another few centuries at least. He couldn’t bring himself to care about that.

Andel was a little trickier to handle, in some ways. The problem was, he was just too useful. He tended to assume responsibility for every problem as soon as it arose, so he would often have fixed whatever-it-was before Calder was even aware. This undermined his authority in the eyes of the passengers, so Calder tried to take charge whenever possible.

But having a crew member who was too skilled was a good problem to have, especially when the total crew numbered precisely three. Calder conducted most everything related to the handling of the ship himself, but passengers still ended up working for the duration of their journey.

Except this passenger.

Mr. Valette looked like a schoolteacher. He was thin as a fence post, with expensive spectacles and long gray sideburns, and he had a tendency to frown at Calder as though expressing deep, heartfelt disappointment. Only one thing ruined the impression: his long, black coat.

He refused to work, refused even to acknowledge it when Calder asked him to carry a box or tighten a line. He would simply frown and walk away. The passenger seemed to spend most of his time scribbling in a journal, which he kept tucked away in the inner pocket of his coat.

Two weeks into the journey, Calder finally mustered up the courage to ask his passenger a question. “If you’ll pardon me asking, Mr. Valette, what does the Blackwatch need in the town of, ah…” He had to glance down at the log to remember the name of their destination. “…Silverreach?”

Mr. Valette slapped his journal closed, glaring at him. “I would pardon you asking, Captain Marten, but I doubt my Guild Head would do the same. She would be irritated with you, in fact. If you had ever met her, you would know how terrifying a prospect that is. So let’s keep our questions to ourselves, hm?”

Calder still had nightmares about his first meeting with Bliss, but he couldn’t admit that to this Watchman. Valette wasn’t the only one who preferred to avoid sensitive questions. “That’s understandable, Mr. Valette, and thank you for the warning. But considering the nature of your business, this information could affect the safety of everyone onboard. I wouldn’t want to run into any trouble with Elderspawn, after all.”

The passenger scratched at one of his sideburns, considering this. “I do not anticipate trouble,” he said at last. He slipped the journal into his coat, rising to his feet. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in my cabin. The weather does not look like it will be kind to ink and paper.”

Calder glanced up to the stormclouds, which rolled in a slow, spiraling whirlpool. There was a storm on its way, but it wouldn’t be likely to harm his book. Clouds like those meant that the rain would come in reverse.

He headed over to Jerri, who was slumped over the ship’s wheel, an expression of absolute boredom on her face.

“I’ve seen two fish today,” she said, as he approached. “One of them ate the other.”

“Looking for lives of excitement and adventure? Join the Navigators!”

She smiled out of the corner of her mouth. “At least it looks like rain today. That’s the only difference from yesterday.”

“And we won’t even get wet.” He leaned against the railing next to the wheel, watching her. “What do you think of Mr. Valette?” he asked, voice low.

“Reclusive and shady, like every other Watchman I’ve ever known. All of them. No exceptions.”

“No wonder they kicked me out. So you don’t want to know what’s happening in Silverreach?”

Jerri looked out over the sea, her eyes narrowed. She began to tap her fingers, drumming a rhythm on the ship’s wheel. Just when Calder was about to break the silence, she spoke. “I’ve…read about Silverreach before. Somewhere.”

It wasn’t too surprising that Jerri would have read something he hadn’t, but he hadn’t thought Silverreach was that significant of a town. “Is it famous?”

Her eyes flicked to him and then back to the horizon. “Not famous. But if I’ve heard about it, something must have happened there. We should do some research.”

Calder thought about the pathetic four books they kept on the entire ship. “By ‘research,’ you mean…”

“We should steal Valette’s journal.”

That was more like Jerri. Rather than wasting time feigning surprise, he nodded. “How?”

“The easy way,” she said, flipping her braid over one shoulder. “Wait until he’s asleep, take the book out of his coat.”

Andel thunked a barrel down onto the deck loudly, attracting their attention. “I thought you should know we had a beetle problem. Half of the barley will have to be thrown overboard, and we’ll have to filter the quicklamp fluid.”

Calder nodded to the barrel. “Is that the barley?”

“The beetles,” he said. “They tried to mutiny, so I had to quell their rebellion. Show them who owns this ship.” The lid of the barrel started to surge upwards, as though something inside was pushing its way out, until Andel sat on it. Seated comfortably on the barrel of beetles, Andel pulled his hat off and began fanning himself. “So what’s this I hear about a theft?”

Calder and Jerri didn’t look at each other before they spoke. They’d worked together long enough that they reacted immediately.

“We were planning to rob you,” Jerri said.

Calder let out a sigh. “Wait until you were asleep, go through your coat, take away all your…valuables.”

Andel looked at them calmly from his perch on the barrel, still fanning himself with the hat. “Not my precious valuables.”

“Now that you’ve heard us, our plot has been foiled,” Jerri said. “You’ve beaten us again.”

Calder stared into the water, filling his gaze with regret. “We never should have opposed you to begin with.”

“That’s true,” Andel said. “Without me around, you’d be face-to-face with Kelarac before we ever caught sight of shore.”

It was common for sailors to reference Kelarac when referring to the bottom of the ocean, because everyone knew that was where the Soul Collector was sealed. But Calder couldn’t help a shudder. Ever since he’d actually met Kelarac, the phrase had become more than just an expression.

“And it’s good that you were planning to rob me, instead of our passenger,” Andel went on. “As we wouldn’t want the Blackwatch finding out we had any breaches of conduct. Not only would they feed us to Elderspawn, they wouldn’t pay us.”

The barrel under him shuddered, the beetles struggling to escape, but Andel didn’t seem to notice.

Calder forced a smile, but his hands were clenching on the railing. Whenever he started to get used to having Andel Petronus around, the man had to get in his way. Where was the harm in a little book-snatching? He’d been brought to trial for worse.

Andel reached into his white jacket, pulling out a palm-sized, tightly bound book of his own. He waved it in the air, then tossed it to Calder. “Fortunately for you, I don’t like sailing in the blind any more than you do.”

Jerri leaned over the book as Calder opened it. The first line read, “To my Guild Head, Bliss, from your servant Andrei Valette…”

From a quick scan of the page, it went on to describe his plan of action when he reached Silverreach, including his predictions about what The Testament’s crew would do on shore.

“You copied his journal,” Calder said. His forced smile had slipped away, replaced by naked shock.

“I used to work as a scribe for the Order. All I needed was a few minutes a day before and after I laundered his coat. He’s fastidiously clean.” Andel didn’t even look proud of himself. He sat there with an expression of absolute calm, even as the beetles surged underneath him.

Calder held up the book. “Well done indeed, Mr. Petronus. Please take the wheel while we study this in my cabin.”

“I’ve already read it,” Andel said. “So I won’t spoil the surprise. Surrender the helm, and I’ll see if I can bring us back on course.”

Walking past, Calder actually clapped him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Andel. Now toss that barrel overboard.”

“And waste perfectly good beetles?”

Andel hadn’t seemed panicked about the journal. He’d read it, and he hadn’t come screaming out on deck, demanding that they change course. In fact, he seemed to accept the whole thing without complaint.

Calder couldn’t understand why. They were sailing into a death-trap.

As it turned out, the journal wasn’t just Valette’s thoughts about his upcoming mission. It also included copies of his original orders, as well as the reports that led to those orders.

The reports, taken in tandem with Bliss’ commands and Valette’s notes, told a frightening story.

“Farmers in the region report sightings of what they describe as ‘ten-legged spiders’ running through their fields at night. These sightings are often accompanied by the usual signs: stolen livestock, missing books, strange signs cut into cornfields. When the community contacted the local Blackwatch chapter house, we responded with a standard investigation. However, it reached no conclusion…”

He flipped the page.

“In southern Izyria, we cornered a hive of Inquisitors. They had abducted the elderly and those of mental infirmity, taking them to a cave for a ritual preparation we believe was intended to invoke the void. Watchmen on scene were able to contain the Elderspawn, but this behavior suggests an uncharacteristic boldness. Inquisitors are usually content to watch.”

Every entry was something like this. These ten-legged arachnid Elderspawn, these Inquisitors, had become active all over the Empire. There were sightings from Dylia, Vandenyas, the Nire, even the Capital. Overall, it painted a disturbing picture. As one entry put it, “For Elderspawn to work with such coordination and precise timing suggests a greater intelligence at work. I think we all understand the nature of that intelligence.”

Most frightening of all were Bliss’ thoughts on the matter.

“The town of Silverreach was built on Ach’magut’s tomb. That seems like a silly place to build a town to me, so perhaps they deserve their fate. Except they didn’t build the town, their ancestors did. Anyway, they should move.

“The Inquisitors only act together under the orders of their lord, Ach’magut, and he’s dead. For now. If Ach’magut is alive again, it is quite possible that we are all moving according to a plan he laid more than two thousand years ago. You should travel to Silverreach and determine if the Great Elder has revived. You’ll be able to tell.

“If he has, we’ll have to schedule Silverreach for destruction. There is always the possibility that you will not return from this assignment, in which case I will assume that you have been captured and tortured by Ach’magut, and adjust my plans accordingly. I hope that does not happen, because then I would have to send three hundred silvermarks to your widow, and that is expensive. Be safe.”

Bliss’ concern for the welfare of her Guild members aside, the news froze Calder’s blood. They were sailing into the lair of a Great Elder who might be alive and waiting for them. In fact, their sailing to him could all be a part of his plan. Calder was having difficulty thinking of a more painful way to die.

By contrast, Jerri’s dark eyes were sparkling. “What if he’s alive? Can you imagine it? The Emperor is the only one who’s ever seen Ach’magut directly!”

Sometimes, it was hard to tell when Jerri was joking. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, except we’re going to change course. I wouldn’t drop anchor at Silverreach if there was a chest of gold buried every ten feet.”

That was an exaggeration; he probably would go ashore in that case. Gold was gold, and the Elder might still be dead.

“It can’t be too dangerous!” Jerri insisted. “Bliss is sending a man into the town, and she wouldn’t have hired us if this was absolutely suicide.”

Calder pointed at the journal page. “Even she’s admitting there’s a good chance he’ll be heading straight to his death. I can’t believe he accepted an assignment like this.”

Jerri laid a hand on his arm, moving a little closer. She looked at him earnestly, speaking softly, and her voice sent a quiver through his stomach. “Calder, he agreed because it’s worth the risk. That’s the mission of the Blackwatch: studying the Elders in the service of humanity. You remember.”

In another tone, that would have felt like a jab, but he did remember. He had already made a deal with one Great Elder for a cause he felt was worth it, and that hadn’t worked out too badly. Not as badly as it could have, anyway.

Sensing her advantage, Jerri pressed forward. “Besides, you know your mother supervises everything the Guild Head does. Even if Bliss would have killed a man just to learn something, would she?”

That was a good point. Alsa Grayweather wouldn’t have allowed this to proceed if there wasn’t a good chance the man would return. And since Calder suspected it was his mother’s recommendation that had landed him this job in the first place, he knew she wouldn’t put him within a hundred miles of Silverreach if it wasn’t somewhat safe.

“We don’t have to change course,” Calder said finally. Jerri beamed at him, so brightly that he found himself smiling back. He wasn’t sure why she cared about this, but for some reason she did, so he’d enjoy her good mood.

Before he could say anything else, she leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss.

He froze for a moment, stunned. A smile leaked out, tugging one side of his mouth up. If he didn’t know her so well, he would have thought she was too excited about going to town. But she had no reason to care, other than her boredom and her desire to go ashore. Maybe that was enough. For Jerri, the potential would just add some much needed spice.

Whatever the reason, she was happy to go to Silverreach. She was happy with him. And that was all the explanation he needed.

After learning that a Great Elder may be waiting for them in the town of Silverreach, Calder had lost himself imagining what else they might find.

It could be a town that seems normal, but at night, the townsfolk turn into bloodthirsty cannibals. Silverreach could have been wiped from the earth, covered by nothing but Elderspawn and squirming tentacles. They could literally sail straight into Ach’magut’s mouth.

Maybe they would see nothing wrong, and would return to report that to the Blackwatch…but it would all be part of the Overseer’s plan. He would sneak one of his Inquisitors into the belly of The Testament, and Calder himself would be the agent responsible for spreading an Elder infestation.

His speculation had run so wild that, when they arrived at Silverreach, he was not at all surprised to find it empty.

There were only three other ships docked, all of them smaller than Calder’s. Fishing vessels, with their catch rotting onboard. Gulls screamed as they whirled around the harbor, gorging themselves on piles of rotten fish. The smell had everyone onboard the Navigator’s ship wrapping rags around their faces, leaving only their eyes uncovered.

The town itself looked like a hundred others in the Empire—the houses were simple, mostly wood covered in plaster, with sloping tiled roofs and wide, cobbled streets. Silverreach moved uphill, watched over by a lighthouse that stood sentinel on the edge of the coast.

Everything was dark. Not only was the lighthouse unlit, but not a single window in the town winked. None of the chimneys blew smoke. A half-open door creaked as it swung in the breeze, audible over the wind and the shrieking of birds.

“I think we’ve seen enough of Silverreach,” Calder said. With a brief thought, he Read the Lyathatan. For the first time, the Elder actually seemed…wary. It did not sleep, here in the shallows, but kept its eyes and its Intent fixed on the shores as though waiting for a threat. That, accompanied by the eerie absence of an entire town, was enough to persuade Calder that they needed to turn back out to sea as soon as physically possible.

Mr. Valette scratched at his sideburns, watching the shore. He was in full Blackwatch costume—black coat, iron spikes tucked into loops at his belt for easy access, with the squirming Elder Eyes badge of his Guild displayed proudly over his chest. A case of tools sat by his feet, ready to be carried onshore, though Calder couldn’t imagine what tools the man would actually need. He was here to discover Elder activity, and obviously there had been some. He’d discovered it. The mission, in Calder’s mind, was over.

“I may not have been entirely honest with you, Captain,” Valette said. “There was indeed the…remote possibility of danger on this venture, aside from the usual. I don’t mean to alarm you, but it seems that there has been a significant Elder presence here.”

Calder tried to feign surprise, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“I was expecting to question the locals,” the Watchman went on. “However, I very much doubt there’s anyone here in the shape to be questioned. If you could assist me, I’d be grateful. I would even be willing to pay an additional fee to you, out of my own pocket.”

As interested as Calder was in making further progress toward his debt, he couldn’t help but wonder what the man meant by assistance. “I don’t see any reason for any of us to go ashore, Mr. Valette. You included. Nor can I determine what help I could possibly be to you; after all, I’m hardly a trained Watchman.”

From her own position by the longboat, Jerri snorted. Behind the passenger, Andel raised an eyebrow at Calder. Calder ignored them both.

“Well, Captain Marten, I’m not a Reader. I have to do all my research the tedious way, and I don’t think it likely that I will be able to do so here. If you could take a few Readings, get a sense of the Intent in the general area, that would be of great help to my task.”

“I’m sensing something from here,” Calder said. “I’m sensing danger, and a foolish risk that we don’t need to take. If it helps you, sir, I’d be happy to swear in the Emperor’s name that you overturned every rock in the town before leaving baffled.”

Jerri frowned at him. “We can’t just leave after coming all this way. The town is empty, so we can surely spare an hour or two to explore.”

“I’m sure it’s uninhabited,” Calder said. “I’m not at all certain it’s empty.”

Andel scanned the shore from beneath his white hat, expression unreadable as usual. “This may surprise you, Mr. Marten, but I agree with the lady. All of us can go ashore together, as there’s no chance of the ship drifting and no one could steal her. It’s five o’clock now. If we leave before sunset, I don’t anticipate too much risk.”

Jerri held out a hand toward Andel, as though presenting him. “I’m seeing you in an entirely new light, Andel.”

If the two of them had not read Valette’s journal, Calder would have understood. Even he would have been tempted to investigate the empty town, if he didn’t know there was a Great Elder underneath it. How could they have forgotten that?

“Tell me, what do we stand to gain from this risk?” Calder asked. “Because we have enough of a report to send to the Blackwatch. ‘The town is empty, it seemed abandoned, and we thought it too dangerous to travel further.’ Sounds reasonable to me.”

Andel turned to him, face as clear as ever. “We won’t gain anything. But the citizens of the Empire trust the Guilds to prevent things like this from happening. If we can learn anything here that prevents Elderspawn from emptying another village, that’s worth some risk.”

Mr. Valette nodded approvingly at Andel’s words, his expression as close to smiling as Calder had ever seen it.

He could sense when he was beaten. Especially when he knew they were right. The smart thing to do from their own perspective was to leave, sail away and never look back. But something had happened to these people, and he had the chance to find out what. His mother risked her life for that every day.

Jerri slapped the side of the longboat. “Lower the boat, Mr. Marten. We’re going ashore.”

Another quote floated to mind, from the journals of Estyr Six: “If you’re not giving the orders, you’re not the one in charge.”

Calder sighed. “Yes, Captain.”

The air swirls with Intent, so thick that Calder could swear he’s standing in a Capital crowd. Curiosity, terror, greed, and a strange, burning hunger blend and drift together so that Calder can scarcely tell one emotion from the other. There’s something strange about it, something that violates common sense; it feels as though the people of this town were passionate about research. Too much so. It’s like a thousand people were so desperate for answers that their hearts might burst…

Calder took his hand from the beam of the house. He tried to shake away the lingering impressions hanging like cobwebs inside his mind; a thirst for knowledge, an inquisitive spirit desperate to be satisfied.

Jerri leaned over with her hands behind her back, smiling like a delighted child. “Well? Any gruesome deaths in the dockside house?”

He would have suspected that the unquenchable curiosity belonged to Jerri, if he didn’t know better. She was entirely too enthusiastic about their trip to an abandoned, Elder-haunted village. “Nothing from the house,” he said. That wasn’t unusual; the structure of a house would usually contain, at most, the skills and memories of the carpenter who constructed it. “Everything I could read came from the air, which is unusual enough. Intent seeps into objects like a dye and stains them, it doesn’t hang around like a fog. Except here.”

It was hard to explain to someone who had never experienced a Reading, like explaining a chorus to a man who had never heard music.

Jerri lifted her eyebrows. “Any visions? Any idea what happened?”

“No visions, which is strange on its own. Normally I have to sort through pictures and impressions, but this was pure emotion. Like it pooled here.”

She thumbed her earring, looking thoughtful. “What emotions?”

“Someone here, or everyone here, very much wanted answers to all their questions. But it was more than curiosity, it was…greed, it was hunger. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear these people all stabbed each other over a riddle.”

“Ach’magut,” she said.

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

Ach’magut, the Overseer, was said to feast on the collected knowledge of humanity. Calder hadn’t been a Watchman long, but he’d learned that much. He hadn’t, unfortunately, learned where the Great Elder was buried.

Though circumstances now suggested that he was right under their feet.

Valette came walking out of a nearby home, carrying his travel-case in one hand like an itinerant alchemist. “Not what I expected,” he said. “Whatever happened here, I thought it was sudden, but the evidence suggested these people packed up and left. There are no meals on the tables, no clothes strewn on the floor. Everything is tucked away so neatly I would almost expect that the town itself is a fake.”

Andel followed the Watchman, keeping a pistol leveled on the surrounding streets. Shadows lengthened as the sun fell, and Andel was doing his best to keep a weapon on every patch of darkness at once.

“It’s not a fake,” Calder said. “They’ve left their Intent on everything.”

Valette snorted. “Then they left of their own volition. No one made them sort their candlesticks in the middle of a kidnapping.”

Calder still couldn’t sweep the feeling of deadly curiosity from his head. The memory ate through his thoughts like acid. “I suspect their volition itself may have been compromised. What Elder do you know that feeds on knowledge and understanding?”

The Watchman gave him a sharp look. “You found something, I see.”

“Enough to know we should be out of here before dark.”

“I have what I need to bring back to my Guild Head,” Valette said after a moment’s hesitation. “Not what I’d hoped, but she’ll be able to make something of this. I will need to take a full report from each of you.”

Andel shoved his pistol into his belt and took off running.

Jerri’s head jerked around, but she didn’t move. Without stopping to think, Calder ran after him. He didn’t know what had happened to the townsfolk of Silverreach…but he knew what it felt like, and that was almost as bad. If the same insane hunger had seized Andel, the man could easily be running to his death.

But in a second, even before Calder could catch him, Andel stopped. He was dragging someone out of a nearby doorway, someone that Calder had never seen. A boy, maybe a little older than ten, with hair like seaweed and several missing teeth. He was dressed like a Capital chimney-sweep, in ragged clothes covered in dust and dark stains, and he fought Andel as though he thought the former Pilgrim planned on feeding him to Urg’naut.

He did not scream.

“Let me go,” the boy whispered. “I’m not going to make it!”

Andel’s grip on his collar didn’t falter. “Make it where?” In answer, the boy struggled harder.

With a sigh, Andel pulled the boy around and pushed his wrists together. “Well, if you don’t have any information, then I guess I’ll have to bind you and leave you in the street. We’ll see if a night out in the open makes you more eager to answer any questions.”

The boy frantically jerked away, trying to escape, but Andel made no move to actually tie his hands together. “Keep your voice down!” the boy hissed, and Calder could hear unshed tears. “The spiders are going to come back.”

“What spiders?” Jerri asked, her voice low…and still excited.

He sagged in Andel’s arms, face bleak. “The spiders took everyone away. I have to get food and things during the day, and hide myself at night. That’s when the spiders come out.”

“What do the spiders do?” Andel asked.

Valette didn’t even wait for Andel to finish his question before trampling over him. “What do they look like?”

The boy was twisting his neck to try and keep an eye on every direction at once, but he did answer. “They’re big, bigger than me, and they have eyes everywhere.” He shuddered. “They take everything apart and put it back together. Everything.”

Calder shuddered too.

The Watchman scribbled frantically in his journal. “Just as we feared. Inquisitors of Ach’magut.”

“We’re leaving,” Calder said. “Bring him.” To the boy, he added. “We have a ship, and we’re getting as far away from here as we can.”

The boy looked to the harbor, and his eyes widened as he noticed The Testament outlined against the setting sun.

Jerri grabbed Calder’s arm as he’d begun to walk away. In a whisper softer than the boy’s, she said, “Listen.” At the sound, Andel and Valette froze. Even the boy stopped struggling, his eyes going wide.

Footsteps, coming closer. Not the rapid tapping he would have expected from giant spiders, but the ordinary slap of shoes against pavement. Calder looked back, waiting for the survivors to show themselves. There was plenty of room on The Testament for cargo, and they had enough supplies to carry a dozen refugees up the coast for another few weeks. Even if there were more, he could at least get them away from this haunted town.

But the boy struggled even more frantically against Andel’s grip. “Run!”

The crew glanced at each other, but then didn’t wait for any more instructions. They ran.

Calder had crossed the vast expanse of empty cobbles leading to the harbor, with only the dock in front of him. His ship was a black silhouette against an orange sky, and he was close enough that he could sense the perpetual fury of the Lyathatan beneath the waves. Even as he ran, he started to relax. Once they were onboard, nothing short of a Great Elder could catch them.

They didn’t make it onboard.

From the water on either side of the dock, spiders the size of wolves splashed up and clambered over onto the dock. Two of them stood on the surface of the dock, giving Calder a clear look at them. For the first time, he wished the sun had set completely. Then he wouldn’t have to see them.

It was difficult to tell the color of their chitin, but he thought it was dark blue, maybe a sort of slick purple. They had ten sharp, segmented legs, though two of them stayed bent up at all times, like arms. And they were covered in eyes. The segment he would dubiously term the ‘head’ was crammed full of eyes of every description: compound eyes, slitted reptilian eyes, even eyes that looked disturbingly human. Some of the eyes waved on stalks, which drifted toward the humans.

Looking at the two Elderspawn standing next to each other, he could see that neither of them had the same pattern of eyes or even distribution of limbs. One had eleven legs, four of which were pulled up and waving in the air. The other had ten legs, and three stalk-eyes to the two of its companion. It was as though they had been assembled from a child’s kit instead of born.

Andel and Calder reacted in almost exactly the same fashion. Before Calder realized he had a gun in his hand, he felt the kick of a gunshot and the familiar peal of thunder. Smoke drifted up from him as well as from Andel, and both spiders staggered back a pace. One of them waved a shredded stalk that had once had an eye on it.

Like two bodies possessed of one mind, both Elderspawn cocked their heads. Neither seemed particularly inconvenienced by the shot.

Mr. Valette had dropped his case and now clutched an iron spike in each hand. “In the Emperor’s name,” he said, and it had the sound of ritual to it. “Mr. Petronus, Captain Marten, I’ll thank you to take care of the one on the left. Drive it into the water, if you can. I will seal the limbs of the one on our right, that we may take it home for study.”

Calder was still struggling with the idea of carrying another Elderspawn home on his ship when the decision was taken out of his hands. The footsteps from behind them caught up. He edged to the side, turning carefully to keep both the humans and the spiders in view.

Fifteen men and women spread out side to side, and so many of them wore robes that Calder almost thought they were Magisters. An older man stood in front, smiling, wearing over his robe a ragged coat that looked like it had spent countless nights on the streets. The old man stepped forward and raised his hands to the sky.

“Praise Ach’magut, in his endless bounty, for sending us new brothers and sisters! Friends, be welcome in Silverreach. You have come at the right time.”

As if the stranger’s calm around Elderspawn hadn’t told him enough, Calder noticed the silver medallion that each member of the crowd wore hanging over their chests. The Open Eye. Not a Guild crest, that symbol, but it served much the same purpose. The Blackwatch watched for it in ancient documents.

More often than not, it stood for the Sleepless.

The old man laughed, and his people advanced. In Andel’s arms, the boy had gone limp with defeat.

“It’s not as bad as you think, friends,” the old man said. “Don’t despair!”

From past the end of the dock, a deep, male voice echoed over the water. “DESPAIR!” Shuffles shouted.

The sound reminded him of the presence of his ship. He stretched his mind out, a Soulbound calling for his Vessel. He could sense The Testament at this distance, but it was futile; while most Soulbound could draw power from their Vessels, his ship had no power to give. He could only control it, which was no help from so far away.

So he moved his Intent down, through the chains, to the place where the Lyathatan rested on the harbor floor. As clearly as he could, Calder called for aid.

The Elder gave no sign that it had heard Calder’s call. It sat still, hunger and ambition and wariness and calculation all swirling in its ancient mind. As Calder and his crew were dragged away, it simply watched.

And waited.