Good thing they didn’t suffocate. Seeing how even Pacifica, who hadn’t been involved in the magic, had passed out, they had probably narrowly escaped death. They were lucky to hit the island.
Shannon looked around for Berkens. The Inox was leaning against the cliffs that circled the edge of the island; upon leaning over the deck, Shannon saw an expanse of surrounding reef in the water. It seemed that the hydrofoil on the underside of the ship had gotten caught in the reef just below water level, and that same entanglement now held the ship in place. Although there was no sign of Berkens on the ship or in the water, Shannon did spot something unusual.
He blinked twice. Hidden in the shadows of the Inox, a large cave was hewn out of a section of the cliffs. The opening looked as though it had been covered with cloth and boards that were painted to look like rocks, but the collision of the Inox had destroyed the camouflage.
“What the…” Shannon shook his head. He’d been unconscious for a while, so waking up to see such a strange sight disoriented him further. Leaving the cave for later, Shannon stepped down to the hold of the ship.
Although the carriage horses were frightened, they seemed unharmed. Shannon went down to the somewhat flooded basement room, but all he saw there were the floating bodies of drowned cows.
The drawbridge, which also served as a door, was down; Shannon figured that Berkens had left that way. Stepping off the ship from the drawbridge, Shannon finally caught sight of the man.
Berkens was inside the cave near the ripped camouflage. Part of the cave was submerged in water, but there were several areas that protruded from the rock wall like landing piers. The drawbridge had come down on the edge of one of them, and Berkens sat at the far end of it. A large bundle of blankets had been laid to rest at his knees.
“Berkens?” Shannon called.
Berkens didn’t turn, but Shannon could hear him reciting something. Shannon walked closer.
“… and now your days have come to an end,” Berkens said solemnly. “Yet your aspirations live on inside of us, and your soul lives on. We send you now to rest by Mauser’s side. Oh, heavens, by your immense grace, take these souls by your side; welcome these men who have fulfilled their destinies and—oh.” Berkens made the holy sign of Mauser one last time, then turned to Shannon and smiled. “You’re awake,” he said with interest. “Sorry—I was just finishing here.”
Shannon tried to make out what was in the blankets. Noticing Shannon’s gaze, Berkens scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.
“I couldn’t just leave the captain and his assistant there,” he explained. “I just wish I had the energy to do the same for the cows.”
Oh. Shannon paused. “You know,” he commented after a moment. “I can almost believe you’re a real priest now.”
“Is that the best kind of compliment I can expect from you?” Berkens sighed. “We still have to bury them, but we can do that later. First…” He gestured to the cave.
“I was thinking the same thing.” Shannon took a few steps beyond Berkens into the cave. “It looks like this whole place was manmade.”
Being on the edge of water, Shannon had expected the cave to be made of limestone; he had seen a limestone cave by a lake near his hometown of Manurhin. But this cave didn’t seem natural at all. The inner walls were smooth bedrock, as though they had been carefully polished, and not a single seam nor joint could be seen. Candleholders lined the walls, and small boats were tied to iron stakes in the protruding pierlike rock structures. The place was clearly a secret dock.
“I’m sure it’s not natural, but…” Berkens slapped his hand against the smooth wall. “How the heck did they carve all this?”
“Magic, I guess.”
“I’ve never heard of a spell that carves through bedrock.”
Shannon knew that Berkens wasn’t a sorcerer, and Inquisitors were usually only familiar with basic spells and mild combat magic. It made sense—they only had to know about the spells that heretic sorcerers could use to kill them.
“There are certain types of large-scale military attack magic spells that can designate a specific area and turn everything in it to dust,” Shannon offered. “They’re really intended for annihilation operations, but I heard that they used to use them a long time ago to build forts and dig trenches. Unsuccessfully,” he added as a side note. “It never worked well because they didn’t measure the hardness of the bedrock or the stability of the ground first.”
Berkens turned to Shannon, an odd look in his eye. “You seem pretty knowledgeable on the subject,” he said slowly. His stare turned a bit sharp.
But Shannon, unbothered, met the man’s stare and shrugged. “My late father was in the military.”
’’And that explains why you know so much about combat magic?”
“You seem pretty curious for a drop-out priest.”
Berkens dropped his gaze to instead give a dry chuckle. His familiar smile pulled at his mouth. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s an old habit of mine—a nasty trait that we pick up after years on the job. But it’s true that I’m a dropout; I wasn’t supposed to be an Inquisitor.”
’’Whatever you… wait.” Shannon turned his gaze back to the cave at the same moment Berkens did. A group of orange flames slowly appeared in the deep darkness of the cave.
A moment of waiting, and the flames materialized into men holding torches.
Dozens of men holding torches.
“Guess it’s still inhabited,” Berkens muttered. “Think they’re friendly?”
As if to answer his question, a dry thwonk sound emerged from the mob. An arrow whizzed through the air, cutting through Shannon and Berkens to bury itself in the body of the Inox.
“Hey!” Berkens yelled. “What was that—?”
A shower of arrows followed the first.
Shannon and Berkens dove into the entrance of the Inox; the next moment, the barrage of arrows buried themselves into the wall of the Inox behind where they’d been standing
Perfect, Shannon thought angrily as he crouched behind the wall next to the ship’s entrance. Berkens, he noticed, had the same idea; the older man crouched by the opposite side of the entrance.
“Who do you think they are?” Shannon asked quickly. “That heretical group you were talking about?”
“Huh…?”
Judging from his dull response, Berkens had either forgotten about his mission or had never put much faith in the rumor that the heretical group existed at all. Either way, he was proving to be a terrible Inquisitor.
Shannon slapped a hand to his forehead. “The heretics,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “The ones you were looking for! Didn’t you consider that we might’ve landed on their hideout by coincidence? You’re wearing the clothing of a Mauserist priest; they’d consider you an enemy on sight.”
Hearing this, Berkens’ mouth dropped open. A moment, and he broke into a smile and clapped his hands together.
“That has to be it! My hidden talents drew us here. I’m a great Inquisitor!”
“You’re the worst Inquisitor ever!” Shannon snapped. “We just crashed into a mission that you forgot existed!”
Berkens sighed. “At least let me get some pleasure out of this mess.”
“No! And now you’ve dragged us into your problems.” Shannon let out an angry breath as he listened to more arrows hit the Inox with dull clunk noises. “Like we don’t have enough of our own,” he murmured under his breath.
“Heretical groups are all the same,” Berkens argued. “Whether I was with you or not, they’d still drag you into one of their crazy sacrifices or drugged orgies and offer your head to the Scrapped Princess. I didn’t make anything worse for you, at least.”
“Orgies?” Shannon shot Berkens an incredulous look. “You don’t really believe all that garbage, do you?”