Ioan paused again to relieve his sore throat with another sip of tea. The Faceless Man was leaning forward on the edge of his seat, wishing he could somehow access the memories of the real Martin. What was in that temple he had explored, and what flowed through that river that stopped the islanders? Jacques, whose experience was far more profound than the other two men, had kept his composure. His expression was serious but relaxed, and his eyes were half-closed, as if searching his memory for knowledge of what those sailors had stumbled upon in the vast ocean surrounding the colonies.

  At last, Ioan resumed his narrative.

  “The story now being told, a debate broke out on the best course of action. Rafe and a few of his followers urged an attack on the village to free our sailors who might still be alive. Martin, you felt otherwise, encouraging a quick retreat from the island by backtracking back past the temple. Rafe had always been a good sailor and followed orders, but that was the closest I had seen him to outright insubordination. I was not alone in fearing that you two would soon come to blows and we’d devolve to fighting ourselves. The issue was forced, however, when the first dart of many came flying out into the night, striking a sailor standing just next to me in the neck.

  ‘Retreat! Follow me,’ you cried.

  Back, you led us along the coast and past that horrible temple. We stumbled behind you, firing off pistol shots where we could and keeping our heads down as darts fell like mosquitoes around us. Even Rafe scrambled along beside us, his previous zealousness to rescue his companions evaporated in the horror of the attack surrounding us.

  As night began to fall, we made our way back along the coast to the temple we had passed earlier. What had been a silent, abandoned monument to some long-gone deity had transformed in the descending darkness. A cruel flame flickered from inside the temple, giving the small windows the appearance of evil eyes gazing down upon us. One of the sailors ran too close to the entrance to the staircase, but before I could cry out in warning, he vanished. The tentacles carved around the door seemed to writhe in pleasure, and I looked away, too scared to gaze any longer at that monument to evil.

  One by one, we fell until our squad of twenty sailors was reduced to just seven. All the while, the natives gained on us. Some ill wind seemed to lighten their steps. Nothing stopped them save the fall of one of the sailors, at which they would dive upon them and begin to attack with tooth and claw. As a boy, I once saw a man unknowingly wander too close to a bear’s den. The bear took the incursion as an attack upon her cub. The ferocity displayed then was something I thought I’d never see the equal of. Alas, I was mistaken. Rafe’s tale of the fall of Robin seemed like just a faint reflection in a muddy stream compared to the truth of their onslaught.

  At last, when I had just about lost hope and my lungs nearly gave in from effort, we broke upon the beach where we had landed. The Albatross was not immediately visible, lost in a thick fog that had descended around the island. Our rowboats, however, were still where we left them. Those boards of fine Eldaran timber were the first light of hope we had since landing on this rock. You dashed out first, swiftly cutting the rope tying the boat to a tree and beginning to push the boat out into the water. Just as I was about to join you, you stopped, shoulders slumping in defeat.

  ‘What is it?’ I called, ‘Push, dammit.’

  You simply pointed into the boat and began to stumble toward the sea.

  I followed the line of your finger and soon made out what had caused you to lose hope. The bottom of the boat had been hacked at with an axe, revealing the sand below. A strange crab, blue and purple in color and with claws glistening in a way that seemed to suggest poison, had crawled through one of the openings and posed as if to immediately attack anyone foolish enough to dip a toe into its new home.

  Rafe came up behind me and cursed upon seeing the boat. He raised his pistol and carelessly shot at the crab. It hit one of the claws, causing the crab to spin violently around and retreat under the sand. To my surprise, I couldn’t see any sign of blood or broken pieces of shell.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I started to ask, but paused when I saw the strange smile on Rafe’s face.

  ‘Fear not. I still have one shot left.’

  With that, he began to follow you out to the sea.

  Another one of us fell, just at the borderline between the beach and the sea. So close, and yet an entire world away from salvation. That left six of us, huddled in the shallows as the figures of the villagers slowly came into view. They stood there like demons. They were dressed in only loincloths, and around their necks were elaborate necklaces, carved in the shape of tentacles. In the backlight of the moon, I gradually came aware of the fact that their heads had a peculiar shape to them. They seemed to balloon out and stretch backwards, like an octopus, as if their insides contained a brain far larger than our own human instruments. I admit that in some way it seems to be by far the most implausible detail of this whole story, and to this day there’s a part of me that wonders if I imagined it. I’ll never know.

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  I watched the villagers raise their blowpipes in unison, ready to finish us once and for all. I closed my eyes and muttered my last hurried prayer to the creator. What greeted me then was not the embrace of eternity, but the roar of a musket volley. My eyes opened in time to see a few of the villagers drop, blood spurting from the bullet wounds. I spun around to see two more rowboats appearing out of the mist. The sailors on board were already reloading, preparing for the next round. A cheer went up from the surviving exploratory party. Soon another volley rang out, and the villagers began to retreat, dragging their dead and wounded back into the jungle.

  You quickly ran over to Captain Kingsley, Rafe not far behind, and the same argument we had before our pursuit began erupted all over again. Rafe argued fiercely for launching a raid on the village to free our fallen comrades. You argued for an immediate retreat. In the end, caution carried the day for the Captain, and we were hauled onto the rowboats and carried back to the Albatross. In the morning, the Captain was ready to order a full-scale attack on the island, but by the time the fog cleared, the island and all those upon it had vanished.

  Of the six who returned from the expedition, one died soon after as the effects of the darts took their toll. The remaining five of us tried our best to carry on. You, of course, had your own ways of coping. That ended in your dishonorable discharge shortly after. We assumed you would drink yourself to death soon. John, one of the members of Bowen’s party and one who had often butted heads with Robin and Rafe, died while on shore, stabbed in what was said to be a disagreement over the cost of a woman. Saul, the third survivor, was killed in a battle with the Mornhall Empire’s navy a few months later. Rafe was still on board the Albatross at that time, but no one saw Saul fall. Some say Rafe had something to do with it. The Albatross was sunk in that battle, and Captain Kingsley soon took command of another ship.

  I managed to finish my tour and retired back to Alderbridge. As for Rafe, well, he deserted shortly after. They say he joined a pirate crew and searched throughout the colonies, looking for a way back to that island. I hear he found something, but what exactly—no one knows. All I know is that a few years later, he returned to Alderbridge, bearing a wounded eye from those poisoned darts and carrying the burden of whatever it was he found in all those years of searching. I heard he’s involved in smuggling now. I’ve always feared seeking him out, lest I meet the same fate as the others.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, though,” Martin said. “You didn’t give any orders.”

  “Neither did the other two, but hate is seldom rational, and Rafe has little rationality left after all he’s been through. Robin fell that day, and that’s all he seems to care about.”

  A silence fell over the room as Ioan finished his tale. His description certainly matched the man Martin had encountered a few days ago, and if the tale was true, it provided a reason for his vendetta.

  “I thank you, Ioan.” Jacques finally said. “This has been most informative.”

  “Aye. Thank you,” Martin added a moment behind.

  Ioan seemingly didn’t hear Jacques and stared at Martin.

  “Do you… Do you remember?”

  “No. Still nothing, but I understand now. I have little doubt Rafe means to make good on his vengeance.”

  “Aye. I think he does.” Ioan sat back slowly. “I still do not know what we stumbled into on that cursed rock, but we were lucky to get away. I wouldn’t brave that place again with the whole of the navy behind me. They may call it cowardice, but I think you were right back then, Martin. For what it’s worth anyway.”

  “Thank you, Ioan.”

  With a nod from Jacques, the two stood up and made their goodbyes.

  “Martin,’ Ioan said as they had about reached the door. “When this is settled, do come by again. There are other less painful memories I wouldn’t mind revisiting someday.”

  “Aye. I’ll do that.”

  Martin and Jacques escaped a dinner invitation from Ioan’s wife and emerged into the Alderbridge evening. The smells of people cooking in houses nearby drifted out into the streets and made Martin’s stomach growl. He was about to ask Jacques about getting something to eat when Jacques spoke first.

  “I seem to have heard about this Rafe before. If I recall, he operates out of the Ossuary Archways. I’ll have my little birds look into it.”

  “The Ossuary Archways?”

  “A former catacomb under the Military Quarter. It was built in the chaotic age centuries ago, when the Cosmics first invaded and soldiers were falling like wheat before a scythe. The Empire quickly ran out of time and space to bury them properly, and certain Cosmics back then had the power to raise the dead if not properly buried. As a makeshift measure, the Ossuary Archways were dug out and consecrated to hold the remains of those fallen in battle. It’s long since fallen into disuse, and although officially cordoned off, few places under the earth remain inaccessible to those who know where to look. Martin, you should stay away from the Military Quarter for now. This Rafe may be just a drunk, twisted old sailor, or he may have been touched by something beyond our world. If it’s the latter, stumbling in there unprepared will only lead to sorrow.”

  “I understand. Thank you for your advice, Jacques.”

  With that, Jacques departed quickly, leaving Martin to find his way back home and his own dinner. As he got further from Ioan’s house and deeper into the thought, however, his appetite slowly disappeared, replaced by a feeling of deep unease.