Trudi Canavan - The Novice

Heavy air greeted him. Though it was autumn in Kyralia, the weather had grown warmer as they travelled north. Walking along the deck, Dannyl nodded at the sailors on watch. They barely bothered to respond, some ignoring him completely.

He missed the company of Jano. None of these sailors were at all interested in trying out their conversational or singing skills on him. He even missed the occasional mouthful of potent siyo.

Lanterns kept the ship brightly lit. At night, from time to time, a sailor hung one from a pole and leaned out over the railing to inspect the hull of the ship. Once, Dannyl had asked what the man was looking for, but by the blank look he received he guessed the sailor was not familiar with his language.

All was still tonight, and Dannyl was undisturbed as he leaned on the stern railing, watching the water ripple in the light. It was easy, at night, to imagine the shadow of a wave was a creature’s back sliding through the water. Occasionally over the last two weeks he had glimpsed fish leaping through the waves. A few days ago he had been exhilarated to see anyi swimming with the bow wave, some as large as a human. The spiny creatures had lifted their whiskered noses and uttered strange, haunting cries.

Turning away, he started along the rail, then stopped as he saw that several short lengths of thick black rope were strewn across his path. He frowned, thinking how easily he could have tripped.

Then one of the ropes moved.

Taking a step back, he stared at the thing. It was too smooth to be rope. And why would a rope be cut into short pieces, anyway? Each length of blackness glimmered slimily in the lantern light.

One turned and started creeping toward him.

“Eyoma!”

The warning cry echoed in the night, and was repeated all around. Dannyl looked around at the sailors in disbelief. “I thought they were a joke,” he muttered as he backed away from the creatures. “They were supposed to be a joke.”

“Eyoma!” A sailor hurried toward him, a large pan in one hand, a paddle in the other. “Sea leech. You be away from rail!”

Turning around, Dannyl realized that more of the creatures were behind him. They were climbing onto the deck from all sides. He started toward the middle of the ship, then dodged as one of them made a small leap toward him. Another raised its front half up as if sniffing the air, but he could see no nose—just a pale, round mouth ringed by sharp-looking teeth.

Stepping past him, the sailor swung the pan he was carrying. Liquid spilled out, splashing over the creatures and the deck. A familiar, nutty odor reached Dannyl’s nostrils, and he looked at the sailor questioningly.

“Siyo?”

The creatures seemed as appalled by their dousing as Dannyl would have been. As they began to writhe, the sailor pushed them over the edge of the ship with the paddle. Small splashes followed.

Two more sailors joined the first. They took it in turns to refill their pans from an open barrel lashed to the ship, splash the leeches and sweep them from the deck. It was done with such matter-of-fact efficiency that Dannyl began to relax. When one of the crew accidentally doused another with the liquor, he choked back a laugh.

But the black creatures kept coming, flowing over the deck in greater numbers until it seemed like the night was eating away at the edge of the ship. One of the sailors swore and glanced down. A leech had attached itself to his ankle. It wrapped its body about the sailor’s leg with alarming speed. Still swearing, he splashed it with siyo, then, as it let go and began to writhe, he kicked it off the deck.

Sobering, Dannyl moved forward, determined to help. As one of the sailors stepped forward to push the creatures away, Dannyl caught his arm and halted him. Gesturing toward the leeches, Dannyl focused his will and pushed. The leeches scattered off the deck and splashed into the sea.

He met the sailor’s eyes, and the man nodded once.

“Why the siyo?” Dannyl asked as the man brought another pan. “Why not just push them off?”

“Not siyo,” the man said, discarding the paddle. “Yomi. Left from making siyo. Burns eyoma and stop coming back.”

The sailor continued to splash the liquid down and Dannyl kept pushing the creatures off. Then the ship shifted strangely in the water, listing slightly to one side, and the sailor cursed.

“What’s happening?”

The man looked pale. “Too many eyoma. If big swarm, ship be made heavy. If swarm on one side mostly, ship turn over.”

Glancing around, Dannyl saw that the captain and more than half of the crew had gathered on the low side of the ship, where the deck was black with the leeches. Thinking of Jano’s story, he realized the danger the crew faced. If the ship capsized and they fell into the water, they would not survive long.

“How do you stop them?” he asked, shoving more of the creatures back into the sea.

“Not easy.” The sailor hurried away to draw more liquid from the barrel, then returned to Dannyl’s side. “Hard to get yomi on hull.”

The ship listed farther. Dannyl picked up the paddle the man had discarded and handed it back. “I’m going to see if I can help.”

The sailor nodded. Striding down the deck, Dannyl found his way blocked by scattered sea leeches that had evaded the sailors. He saw black shadows wriggling along ropes, in corners and on the railing. Raising a magical barrier about himself, he walked past them, flinching as they leapt at him. A slight sizzle followed as they met the barrier and fell away. Satisfied, he continued on.

Before he had reached the captain, a familiar voice called from the door to the common room.

“What’s happening?”

Seeing Tayend peering out, Dannyl felt a stab of alarm. “Stay downstairs.”

A leech dropped from a rope and landed near the door. Tayend stared at it in horrified fascination. “Another one.”

“Close the door!” Dannyl focused his will and the door slammed shut. At once it flew open again. Tayend leapt out.

“They’re in here, too!” he cried. Dodging the leech near the door, he hurried to Dannyl’s side. “What are they?”

“Eyoma. Sea leeches.”

“But... you said they were a joke!”

“Obviously, they’re not.”

“What’s the captain doing?” Tayend asked, his eyes widening further.

Looking up, Dannyl caught his breath as the captain strode into the thick blanket of leeches covering the port deck. The man ignored the creatures that wound up his legs. He held the end of a hose in one hand. The other end was attached to a barrel. Leaning over the railing, the captain aimed the hose at the hull and barked an order. A crewman began turning a handle set into the barrel. Soon liquid was spurting out of the hose in the captain’s hands.

Though crewmen splashed yomi at the captain’s legs, more leeches quickly replaced those that fell away. Within a few minutes the captain’s legs were streaked with blood from the eyoma bites. Dannyl started toward the scene, Tayend following.

“Stay here,” he told the scholar.

Looking at the leeches covering the deck between him and the captain, Dannyl hesitated. He took a deep breath, then waded into the slimy blackness. Sizzling surrounded him as they met his shield. He felt the creatures burst as they were crushed beneath his boots.

Reaching the captain’s side, Dannyl touched a leech that had climbed to the man’s shoulders. It fell away, leaving a circle of small puncture marks. The man turned to stare at Dannyl, then nodded gratefully.

“Go back,” Dannyl ordered.

The man shook his head, but not in refusal. “No kill too many or ship go over other way.”

“I understand,” Dannyl replied.

The ship was listing alarmingly now. Leaning over the railing, Dannyl considered the hull. It was almost invisible, only the occasional ripple of light showing in the darkness. Creating a globe light, he sent it down to illuminate the creatures. He caught his breath. The hull was a wriggling mass of leeches.