David Mcintee - The Light of Heaven

They were beyond the Stormwall.

When the storms eventually subsided, and the Fat Sea settled as Kerberos continued its own voyage across the skies, life on board ship returned to something resembling normality; hard work and cramped conditions, but open skies and plenty of fresh air. Crowe was beginning to enjoy it and wondered whether a life at sea was something he could really settle down to, at least for a year or two.

A few days later, he was helping the Belle 's carpenter shape some replacement belaying pins when the call floated down from the crow's nest.

"Land ho!"

The men rushed to the rails and Crowe found himself beside Margrave, both men shading their eyes with their hands. Sure enough, something was shining on the horizon. Crowe didn't trust himself to speak. Beside him, Margrave was almost hyperventilating. "It's true," he kept repeating. "It's true. It's true…"

"The Isle of the Star." Crowe managed to say.

"An island made of diamond."

Farran joined them at rail. "Incredible. You've obviously heard the legends, of course, but I assume you never expected to really see it."

"You never said this was what you were looking for," Crowe pointed out.

"How long do you think, until we reach it?" Farran said to the Captain.

"Tomorrow morning with any luck."

Feet were thumping on wood all around as Crowe sat up with a start. Men were grabbing belaying pins, knives and anything else that could be used as a weapon. Crowe leapt to his feet, snatching up his sword.

"What's the panic?" he called.

"Search me mate," someone shouted back. "An attack, maybe."

"Oh well done, I'd never have thought of that," Crowe muttered, scrambling up on deck. Kerberos was floating overhead, almost the entire sky choked with its azure glow. Men were darting everywhere, while Margrave tolled the ship's bell. Margrave's nightshirt was open at the throat and he looked half asleep.

"What's happening? I don't see any ships." Crowe said.

Margrave looked sick. "If there were ships, we'd have fewer problems." He nodded towards the rail. "Look at the water."

Crowe took a few steps and looked down.

The water heaving against the hull was black, but what made the breath catch in Crowe's throat were the sickly green lights, like distant lanterns in fog, that were converging on the ship. "What in the pits? What are they?"

"Sea devils, I suppose."

"There's no such thing!"

"Tell them that." Crowe left his longsword where it was and grabbed a shorter cutlass, which had a nice solid hand guard to punch with, and a fairly wide blade like that of a machete. On a ship, nasty brutish and short was the best type of weapon. He didn't want to get the end of the longsword stuck in a plank or beam somewhere and thus leave himself open to being gutted.

"We should stop them boarding," Farran snapped.

"How do you suggest we do that?" Margrave asked icily.

"Prepare to repel boarders!"

It was too late anyway; the first webbed arms were appearing over the sides. The creatures were covered in repulsively slimy green scales, with spines rippling down their backs. The huge heads were split by a wide maw filled with needle-sharp teeth. Fist-sized inscrutable black eyes gazed out at the crew.

Nobody waited for the creatures to co-ordinate their attack. Crowe drew his short, machete-like cutlass and grabbed a belaying pin and leapt at them. Margrave was lunging forward right next to him, stabbing at one creature, while Crowe backhanded another in the face with the belaying pin and stabbed it in the armpit.

Its anatomy must have been different from a man's, as this didn't stop it. It leaped forward, slobbering, and Crowe sliced some of the spines from its back and kicked it in the guts. It staggered back and Crowe punched the dagger up through its jaw. It dropped at last, but another creature turned and offered him more spines, by shooting them from its back. He dropped behind some barrels just in time.

He rose again to see Farran raise his hands abruptly, the fingers curling into claws. Crowe realised what was about to happen and dove to the side just in time. A ball of crackling ice flew past his head and slammed into the nearest creature. Its scales froze and exploded into glass-like shards as it took its next step. It swung round, bleeding from a crater in its side and lunged for Margrave. The Captain fell, but Crowe intercepted the creature before it could deliver a finishing blow, his cutlass biting into the inside of its upper arm.

It fell back, screaming, and Crowe brought a fatal blow down into its neck.

The deck of the Belle was a mass of struggling bodies, but the sailors were definitely pushing the creatures back into the sea. Crowe managed to pick up another cutlass from a fallen sailor and took off a webbed and clawed hand that was slashing towards him, before slashing the creature's throat.

Leaping over the twitching body, he kicked another creature off of Margrave, who gasped for breath now that its hands were free of his throat. It rose, lunging for Crowe, but the bos'un speared it through both shoulders with a pair of daggers, and cut its throat.

"You should not be here," it hissed suddenly, through its wound.

"It speaks!" Margrave was amazed.

"Leave, while you can," the creature insisted. "Or die."

"We're not the ones who'll be dying," Farran told the thing.

The creature looked at him. "There is no escape."

"What sort of city is on this island?" Margrave asked. "Is it yours? Do your people live here?"

The creature spat black slime. "This is no city."

"What is it then?"

"It is a bridge."

"A bridge? To where?"

"To Kerberos."

All the men around instinctively looked upwards, then Crowe and Margrave looked at each other. "I'm not much of a nautical cove," Crowe began, "but I've walked across a few bridges over the years and they all have spans. Do you see a span here?"

"No."

"It will reveal itself at the appointed time," the creature burbled. "Leave or die." It stopped breathing then.

"Throw it overboard," Farran ordered. The bos'un glared at him and looked to Margrave for instruction. Margrave gave him a hurried nod, and the creature and its comrades were returned to the waters out of which they had climbed.

No-one felt much like breakfast after the fight, but they went through the motions anyway, before a party was put together to explore the island.

Though it was called the Isle of the Star, it wasn't particularly star shaped. The ground resembled plain old white rock crystal or glass, as far as Crowe could tell.

There were no diamonds or jewels on the beach either. There was nothing but more rock crystal and chunks of broken glass. There was no sign of vegetation either and the beach simply rose up into a tall central peak. The centre of the island was less a hill proper than a twisted spire, like the horn of some sea beast. If so, it was a beast that was wracked by disease. Its surface seemed to weep, as droplets and tears left trails between long-worn pustules.

It didn't look much like anything even remotely valuable. Crowe suddenly knew with a certainty that the legends had been started by people who had never been out here. The Isle of the Lump of Shapeless Glass wouldn't have brought a storyteller many tots of rum in even the most desperate dockside tavern.

"Well, Farran," Margrave said. "Is this… Is this it?" Margrave was too professional to sound as disappointed as he clearly wanted to.

"This is the Isle of the Star," Farran replied smoothly. "And it has a value."

"What value can such a place possibly have?"

"Its history, Captain Margrave. That is its value."

"You mean this may have been built by the older races? They may have left something?" Margrave asked hopefully.