Page 5 of Palaces and other Prisons
“They said the seawater tastes different. I sampled some, but to me all seawater tastes the same, so I am not the best person to ask.”
Ul didn’t want to make the trek downstairs to the water line, mostly because he’d never make it back up again. A wave of pain rippled through what was left of his arm, as his skin remembered the knife cutting him free, and then the ogre’s stitches as she’d taken a flap of skin and closed the wound.
“Sire, you are not well.”
“Oh, I am well. I am just missing half my fucking arm. So I am in pain for myself and for my people who are missing loved ones.” He closed his eyes and drew in a breath. “Apologies, I should not snap when it is not of your doing.”
Ifer smiled. “I have seen grown men behave worse after stubbing their toe.”
“I will sit in the great hall and be seen. I want to discuss the water with someone and send my valet to assist me in dressing. Then you can take my orders to the councilors. I need them to act swiftly. I want answers within six days. Even the furthest district should be able to report back by then.”
“I will make sure they leave the castle before nightfall.” Ifer inclined his head. “Would you like to sit while I fetch your valet?
Ul wanted to say that he was fine. And maybe if he used his back tentacles to attach himself to the wall, that would be true, as his suckers would cling on even in death. They were what they referred to as archaic tentacles, much like the ones found on octopuses.
“I will sit. He will need to dress me, so I look like a king and not an invalid stumbling around in a nightshirt.”
“There is no mistaking that you are a king, sire.” Ifer helped him to a chair and headed toward the door.
Ul reached out with an archaic tentacle and plucked the goblet off the nightstand, taking another sip of the medicine to soothe the sharp-edged pain that was both only in his severed arm and everywhere all at once.
“Ifer, send a handful of guards to watch the metal structure. I want to know if there are people in there.”
Ifer paused at the door. “And if there are?”
“Then perhaps they will have answers.” From the chair, he studied the structure, not sure of what to make of it, only that he couldn’t ignore it. Its appearance and the change in the water were both troubling.
CHAPTER 4
Dawson leaned on the railing and watched the large, hairy cows move around the field. Four days ago, five people had set up camp near the platform. They appeared to be in uniform and armed, which sent the people in charge into a small panic, even though Dawson thought it was reasonable for the inhabitants to want to protect their island.
Dawson waved to them the same way he’d done every morning since they arrived. And one of them waved back. Or at least that’s what he assumed the gesture was. Of the five soldiers, two appeared to be human. One of them had horns and hooves, which made him look like a satyr.
The other two guards were blue. And not a gentle sort of blue. No, they were boldly blue like blue ink or the bright blue paint he’d used as a kid. Not only that, but they appeared to have extra limbs or tentacles or something coming out the back of their tunics. Some of the guys were calling them squid people.
Except squids didn’t live on land.
But the things Dawson was seeing on the island weren’t the strangest things he’d seen or heard. The reason no helicopters had come to collect them was because dragon sightings had been reported, and the dragons had taken down helicopters andplanes. Cities had been damaged when the earthquakes shook the globe, and new buildings had appeared. People had recorded footage of other creatures roaming the damaged cities, and fighting had broken out in several countries.
Management reminded everyone to remain calm, but it was clear this platform was a low priority without them saying anything. Other oil platforms had fallen, leaving no survivors. They were lucky.
To keep everyone busy, the people in charge asked them to continue doing their jobs even though they were no longer pumping oil. The people responsible for the pumping made sure everything was turned off and safe. Structural engineers had checked to make sure the platform was not about to fall over despite the tilt, and apparently, it was fine for the moment, and safer than venturing down to the island.
Their biggest issues were going to be water and food. They’d been resupplied only three days before what was being called the collapse happened. Showers were restricted.
While management kept their lips sealed, it was clear to Dawson that sometime in the very near future they needed to send a team onto the island because they couldn’t live up on the platform forever.
Were the guards waiting for them?
The soldiers had come from the castle…or at least from that direction. Did that mean the guards would take them to the castle, or would they kill anyone who stepped off the platform?
He was sure management were debating the same thing; however, if given the chance, Dawson decided he’d volunteer. Not because he had a death wish or even described himself as adventurous, but he was curious about the island, and he’d rather do something than starve to death waiting. This was an island from what scientists called the mythological world, and he wanted to explore it. He also wanted a shower that lasted morethan two minutes every second day. The platform was about five hundred meters from the coast, which wasn’t that far, though it meant no boat would be able to dock below and collect them.
Not that any boat was coming.
No one was coming, so it was up to them to sort themselves out until help arrived. He watched the soldiers go through their morning routine, which seemed to involve having breakfast and a talk, before dividing up duties. Or at least that’s what it looked like to him.
Those duties included collecting firewood and water. The river wasn’t visible from this side of the platform, but on the other side, it appeared to be a wide silvery strip cutting a path from the mountains to the coast. It wouldn’t be far to walk; the soldiers did the round trip in half a day—he only knew that because his job was to repaint the exterior of the platform. It was a never-ending job that needed to be done to prevent rust from taking hold. And while he knew management wanted people to stay busy, it felt kind of ridiculous to be going through the motions as if nothing had changed.
