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Authors: Andrzej Sapkowski

Tags: #Andrzej; Sapkowski; Witcher; Sword; Destiny

The Sword of Destiny (27 page)

BOOK: The Sword of Destiny
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"Looks like everything is perfectly dry, Geralt. But where did all that water go? How does the tide bloody work? Have you ever asked yourself that?"

"No. I've had other things on my mind."

Dandelion trembled slightly:

"I think the lowest depths of the bloody ocean hide an enormous monster, a revolting scaly beast, a huge toad with horns on its repulsive face. From time to time, he swallows the water along with everything that lives in it: fish, seals, turtles, everything. After he swallows it all, he makes water: that's the tide. What do you think?"

"I think you're a complete idiot. Yennefer explained to me once that the tides are linked to the moon."

"What nonsense! What do the sea and the moon have to do with each other? Only dogs howl at death under the moon. She was mocking you, Geralt, the little liar. I know it wouldn't be the first time, after all."

The witcher did not comment on Dandelion's words. He watched the rocky ravines,

gleaming with moisture after the sea's retreat. The water continued to rise and fall, but it seemed that they would be able to pass.

"Well, time to get to work," he said, rising and adjusting the sword carried on his shoulder. "We can't wait around for high tide. Dandelion, you still insist on going with me?"

"Yes. Subjects for ballads don't lie around like pine cones under a Christmas tree. Besides, it's Doll's birthday tomorrow."

"I don't see the connection."

"Pity. We, the normal people, are in the habit of giving gifts at birthdays. Since we don't have the money to buy something, I'll find something at the bottom of the sea."

"A herring? A cuttlefish?"

"You can be such an idiot. I'll find amber, a seahorse, or perhaps a pretty shell. It's the symbol that's important: a sign of thoughtfulness and affection. I like Little-Eye and I want to make her happy. Don't you understand that? That's what I thought. Come on. You first, because a monster could strike at any instant."

"Fine." The witcher descended the stone wall covered with slimy algae. "I go in front to protect you from harm. That will be my sign of thoughtfulness and affection. Just remember: if I shout, run for your life and don't get in the way of my sword. We're not here to look for seahorses, but to size up a killer monster."

They descended to the bottom of the ravine, at times paddling through the water in the cracks and pools filled with sand and seaweed. To improve the situation, it began to rain: Geralt and Dandelion were soon soaked from head to toe. The troubadour was constantly stopping to search the sand and seaweed with a stick.

"Oh, look, Geralt, a fish. Completely red, by the devil. And here, a little eel. And that? What's this? It looks like a translucent louse. And this... Oh my! Geralt!"

The witcher turned abruptly, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword.

It was a human skull, white, polished by sand, embedded in a crack filled with sand. Dandelion trembled at the sight of an annelid wriggling in the eye socket and gave an unpleasant cry. The witcher shrugged and led the way to the stone platform unveiled by the waves. Ahead, the two Dragon's Teeth were as imposing as mountains. He watched cautiously. The ground was littered with sea cucumbers, shells and seaweed. In the puddles and potholes large jellyfish waved and echinoderms undulated. Small crabs as colorful as hummingbirds flew by, waving their legs.

In the distance Geralt saw a corpse, lying among the stones. The ribcage of the drowned man, infected by crabs inside and out, moved strangely from the algae. The corpse could not have been there for more than a day, but the crabs had already shredded it so that any closer visual inspection would produce nothing conclusive. The witcher, without a word, veered to avoid the corpse. Dandelion didn't notice.

"It stinks of decay," he said, joining Geralt. Dandelion spat, wringing his drenched hat. "And it's pouring rain. It's cold. I'll catch cold and lose my voice, damn it..."

"Stop complaining. If you want to go back, all you have to do is follow our footsteps."

Behind the base of the Dragon's Teeth lay a limestone plateau ending in a pit that opened onto the tranquil waves of the sea: the tide's edge.

Dandelion looked around them.

"Ah, witcher! Your monster has enough sense to retire to sea with the tide. You must have thought he would wait belly-up for you to come along and gut him."

"Shut up."

The witcher approached the edge of the plateau and knelt carefully while holding the tapered shells that covered the rock. He saw nothing. The water was dark and its surface disturbed and opaque from the drizzle.

Dandelion entered one of the recesses in the stone, pushing the most insistent crabs with his foot; he looked around and ran his fingers over the walls, dripping with water and covered with loose algae and rugged colonies of shellfish and mussels.

"Hey, Geralt!"

"What?"

"Look at these shells. They're pearl mussels, aren't they?"

"No."

"Would you know?"

"No."

"Then wait until you know more before forming an opinion. They are pearl mussels, I'm sure. I'll gather some pearls. At least our expedition will bring us some profits, not just a vicious cold. Right, Geralt?"

"Gather away. The monster attacks pearl divers. Collectors fall in the same category."

"You want me to act as bait?"

"Go on, gather away. Take the larger shells. If they don't contain any pearls, we can always use them for soup."

"And what then? I only want the pearls... The shells can go to hell... Plague take it! How the hell do you open these? Don't you have a knife, Geralt?"

"You don't even have a knife with you?"

"I'm a poet, not a cut-throat. Oh, nevermind, I'll put them in my bag; we'll get the pearls out later. Hey, you! Get out of my way!"

The crab caught by Dandelion's kick flew over Geralt's head and plunged into a wave.

Intrigued by the black mass of water, the witcher slowly followed the edge of the plateau. He heard Dandelion pounding the stone to detach the mussels.

"Dandelion! Come here, look!"

Broken, the plateau ended abruptly at a right angle and fell into the sea. Beneath the surface of the water, one could distinctly see large blocks of marble, sides covered with algae, molluscs, and sea anemones waving in their aquatic element like flowers in the wind.

"What is it? It looks like a staircase."

"It is a staircase," Dandelion whispered, impressed. "Yes. It's a staircase that leads to an underwater city... Just like the legendary Ys that was submerged by the waves. Have you heard the legend of the city of the abyss: Ys-on-the-Water? I'll write a beautiful ballad that will make my rivals green with envy. I must see all of this... Look, there's a sort of mosaic... Something is engraved or molded. Writing? Move over."

"Dandelion! Careful of the depths! You'll slip..."

"Of course I won't! In any case, I'm already soaked. Look, it's shallow... On the first step, the water is barely waist-deep. And it's as wide as a ballroom. Oh, damn!"

Geralt jumped instantly into the water to grab Dandelion by the neck.

"I slipped on this shit," Dandelion explained breathlessly, holding between his hands a slender and flat molded shell that was cobalt blue and covered in algae. "They're all over the stairs. The color is beautiful, don't you think? Hey, put it in your bag: mine is already full."

"Get out of here now!" the witcher roared furiously. "Get back on the plateau, Dandelion. This isn't a game."

"Quiet. Did you hear something? What was that?"

Geralt had heard. The sound came from below, from the depths of the water. It had been dull and deep, but short, fleeting, barely perceptible, like the sound of a bell.

"A bell, by the Beard..." murmured Dandelion, moving up to the plateau. "I was right, Geralt, it's the bell of Ys under the water, the bell of the city of ghosts whose sound is muffled by the elemental water. It reminds us of damnation..."

"Shut it, okay?"

The sound came again, closer.

"... reminds us," the bard continued, squeezing the tails of his coat, "of our terrible fate. That bell sounds like a warning..."

The witcher stopped paying attention to Dandelion's voice to focus his sixth sense. He felt something, or rather the presence of something.

"It's a warning..." Dandelion stuck his tongue out slightly, a sign of artistic concentration. "A warning that... um... we do not forget... um... um... That's it, I have it!"

The heart of the bell is deaf, it is the song of death that you hear

O death, easier to face than to forget...

The water exploded next to the witcher. Dandelion screamed. From the foam arose a bulging-eyed monster about to strike Geralt with a sharp and toothed instrument, resembling a scythe. Geralt had seized his sword as soon as the water began to swell. Whirling, he cut the loose, scaled neck of the monster. The witcher turned just in time to see another creature rise out of the water under a strange helmet and wearing something resembling a copper breastplate covered in verdigris. With a broad stroke of his sword, Geralt struck the point of the short pike wielded against him and, using his momentum, struck the toothed jaws of the icthyosaur and leapt back toward the edge of the platform with a splash.

"Run for it, Dandelion!"

"Give me your hand!"

"Run, damn it!"

The next creature appeared in the waves with a hiss, a bloody sword grasped in a rough green paw. The muscles of the witcher's back gave a twitch away from the edge of the shell-studded plateau and allowed him to take position. The fish-eyed creature, however, remained motionless. The same size as Geralt, the water came up to its waist, but an imposing crest bristled on its head and the gills were wide open, giving the impression that it was larger. The grimace drawn across its toothed face resembled nothing so much as a cruel smile.

Paying no attention to the two corpses that floated in the red water, the creature brandished its sword, holding the guardless hilt in both hands. Bristling its beautiful crest and its gills, it skillfully twirled its blade through the air. Gerald heard the hiss and the hum of the weapon.

The creature took a step forward, forming a wave that crashed against the witcher. Geralt's sword whirled and hissed in response, and stepped forward, in turn, raising the challenge.

The long nimble fingers of the fish-eyed creature shifted on the hilt of the sword. The creature lowered shoulders that were protected by copper and scales, and immersed itself up to its chest, concealing its weapon below the water. The witcher gripped his sword with both hands - the right under the guard and the left near the pommel - and raised it slightly to the side, above his right shoulder. He locked eyes with the monster, but the opalescent fish eyes only offered a teardrop-shaped iris, polished and cold like metal, expressing and betraying nothing. Not even the intention of an attack.

From the depths at the bottom of the staircase came the sound of the abyssal bells, more distinctly and increasingly close.

The fish-eyed monster surged forward and brandished its sword above the water. It attacked to the side and down, much more rapidly than expected. Geralt was lucky: he had predicted that the blow would come from the right. He parried with a downward movement, twisting his body and turning the sword so that the flat of the blade blocked the sword of his adversary. At that moment, everything depended on the speed with which each of them could move from a static block to an offensive stance with a shift of the fingers on the hilt of his

sword. Each of the fighters, ready to deal the decisive blow, had their weight on the right foot. Geralt knew that they were equally fast.

But the fish-eyed creature had a longer reach.

The witcher dealt a sideways blow to the haunch and, executing a sharp turn to parry his opponent's blade, easily avoided the wild and desperate swing that the monster returned out of desperation. Without making a sound, it opened its fish-mouth before disappearing beneath the red-brown haze that was suspended in the water.

"Give me your hand, quick!" Dandelion yelled. "More are swimming toward us! I see them!"

Seizing the bard's right hand, the witcher came out of the water and climbed onto the stone plateau. Behind him, a huge wave appeared.

The first sign of the tide.

They quickly fled before the rising water. Geralt turned and saw a number of other underwater creatures emerge from the sea and join in pursuit, leaping agilely on their strong legs. Without a word, he quickened his pace.

Having difficulty with the water that reached his knees, Dandelion was panting. Suddenly he stumbled and fell. Holding himself up on his trembling hands, the troubadour floundered in the kelp. Seizing his belt, the witcher pulled him out of the foaming water.

"Run!" he cried. "I'll stop them!"

"Geralt!"

"Run, Dandelion! The water will close the gap and we won't be able to get away! Run for your life!"

Dandelion groaned before starting to run again. The witcher followed him, hoping that the monsters would give up the pursuit. Against all of them, he didn't have a chance.

The creatures caught up at the edge of the fault, because the water strongly favored swimming while the witcher, clinging to the slippery rocks, progressed with more and more difficulty through the churning water. Geralt stopped in the basin where Dandelion had found the skull.

He stopped and turned, trying to recover his composure.

The point of his sword pierced the first in the temple and ripped through the second, which was wielding a sort of hatchet. The third fled.

The witcher tried then to hurry up the ravine, but the swirl of an explosive wave filled the chasm with a crash, tearing at the rocks and pulling him down in its undertow. Colliding with one of the sea creatures, Geralt kicked at it. Something grabbed him by the legs and dragged him toward the depths. His shoulder struck against the rock; the witcher opened his eyes just in time to see the dark outline of his attackers and two quick flashes. He parried the first with his sword and instinctively blocked the second with his left hand. Geralt felt a shock and pain, then the aggressive irritation of salt. He kicked off from the bottom with his feet. Swimming to the surface, he drew the Sign with his fingers. The muffled explosion pierced his eardrums. If I get through this alive, he thought, striking the water with his hands and feet, if I make it through this, I'll go see Yen Vengerberg, try to do something else... If I get out alive...

BOOK: The Sword of Destiny
11.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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