Tress of the Emerald Sea (The Cosmere)(110)

Because the Crow’s Song had arrived.





THE HUNTER





How?

Let’s jump back a day. To the crew, who had been waiting for Tress’s safe return. A Doug posted on duty high atop the main mast had been able to see—through a spyglass—when Tress was taken. He’d scampered down to explain.

This put the crew in a bind. What did they do? They couldn’t give chase through the Midnight Sea, could they? The very monsters that had taken Tress would claim them as well. They perhaps should have turned and tried to escape through the Crimson to safer spores. It was what Tress had said she wanted.

Instead they’d held an emergency meeting. And a solution had been offered. By Fort.

It was a chance for him to claim the title of the greatest hunter his people had ever known. A chance to hunt monsters made from midnight spores. The others had listened to his plan, then gone to the Dougs to propose it. The crew had voted unanimously in favor, save for Laggart.

So they’d sailed the Midnight Sea. Fifteen minutes in, the first midnight monsters had appeared. Three of them slithered up on deck, completely impervious to normal weapons, looking for warm bodies and blood to feast upon. For liquid, for water. For death.

Instead they found a large man standing at the center of the deck surrounded by barrels of water. Each with a keg of spores suspended above it by a rope.

Welcome, he wrote to the three monsters—with Ann saying the words out loud in case the creatures couldn’t read. I have quite the deal for you today.

The things slithered forward, making for him. In turn, Fort moved to cut one of the kegs free.

Careful, he warned as Dougs moved to do likewise. We’ll feed all this water to these other spores, leaving none for you, unless you take care.

The midnight monsters stopped. They didn’t need the words, as they could sense what a person was saying or meaning. Their essence reached out to people, seeking the Luhel bond. And so what Fort said registered on some level with them.

They communicated with one another by wiggling tentacles. And Fort…well, he understood. Not because he knew another sign language, but because of that same bond. They did want the water. But there were sources of blood on the ship, and that would do as well.

Warning, he said, gesturing to the rest of the crew, who had gathered with guns at the back of the ship. If you don’t stop, they’re going to throw themselves overboard and feed their water to the spores. Other spores. Not you.

This finally got through to the creatures. It was a conundrum. So much water. But…if they weren’t careful…it would all go to someone else.

Fort rammed his hand into one of the barrels of water, then made signs with the other—signs the creatures understood because of the bond.

?I can feed you all of this,? he said. ?All for you three.?

?How?? they signed back. ?What will it take to be able to eat and drink and thrive and drink and drink and drink??

?Protect us,? Fort said, ?as we sail farther into the sea here.?

As I said, there’s a flaw in using self-aware magical creatures as guards. This process was efficient, allowing the Sorceress to send them out in large numbers, although she couldn’t spare much attention for them.

But midnight aethers are insatiable. And their inherent nature is to trade. To do a human’s bidding in exchange for water and form. That left them highly susceptible to someone who understood the mechanics of the magic—and had a mind for a good trade.

And thus, using the coordinates on the map that Tress had gotten out of me, the Crow’s Song arrived at the island only half an hour after Tress had. Ready to rescue their captain.

It provided the exact distraction Tress needed in the moment. Because the Sorceress, reorienting to these new arrivals, needed to awaken her defenses. She began shouting orders—for the moment ignoring Tress and Charlie.

“They came for me,” Tress said. “Those beautiful fools. They should have stayed away!”

“Like you should have stayed away?” Charlie said. “Instead of coming for me?”

Tress looked at him sitting in her palm, tears in her eyes. And the avalanche started to tremble. She realized that she was the fool. Not for coming to save Charlie—but for trying to keep others from following their own hearts in the same way.

“We have to do something,” she whispered. “I need to warn them about the rocks under the spores. There has to be a way to talk to them.”

Both of them looked at the Sorceress’s desk—in particular, the magical board that displayed the image from Fort’s similar one. Then, as the Sorceress was waking up her armies, Tress and Charlie grabbed the board and stared at it. Trying to figure out how to operate it.

“Uh,” Charlie said. “Board? Can you please let us talk to the people you’re showing us?”

“Video conferencing engaged!” the board said, happy to be of service.

Fort, who had been holding the board, stood up from his chair. He’d spent the entire night drinking water and feeding it—via the bond—to the three monsters. So he was both tired and feeling a little odd, as he’d been able to drink multiple barrels’ worth but didn’t feel full.

Still, their arrival had made him alert, and he’d sent the midnight monsters—now fully under his control by the strengthening of the bond—swimming away to fight others that had tried to get onto the ship. His always won those fights, of course, having far more water to build new body parts from the spores around them if wounded.