Episode 7 - Chapter 2

The troll dangles Raven in the air, shifting him from one hand to another, turning him upside down, then right side up, turning him round. Every move the troll makes brings with it the harsh sound of stone grinding into stone, grating on Raven's ears as much as his nerves. It's hard for him to get a clear perspective, being manhandled as he is, but he's sure the creature is well over nine feet tall, and almost as wide.

The troll's leering grin slowly turns to a frown as it examines its captive, not sure what it has caught. As it brings Raven closer to its face, it inhales deeply before a granite tongue emerges from its cavernous mouth and drags itself across his body.

It's only after the licking has finished that Raven realises what he had thought was a rather ornate stone fountain is slowly shifting, uncoiling into a second troll.

“At Rocknipples 69,” it says, “Wot you got dere den? Is it a noob?”

Episode 7 - Chapter 1

Hush now and listen. Listen closely. Listen not with your ears, but rather with your heart. Somewhere, everywhere, stories are being told, tales are being recounted, memories embellished. Can you hear? Can you?

No, of course not. You're not listening!

Open your soul to the stories all around you. Short stories that flash before you in the blink of an eye. Long stories that take decades to tell and never truly end. Stories to make you think, laugh, cry, love. Stories that make you so angry a red mist descends around your head and the world goes dark for a while.

You are a story. You are an intertwining of many stories, all knotted together to make something quite unique.

The danger, of course, is what happens when a story gets broken.

Sixth Interlude - Part Twenty One

The rest of the night passes slowly, punctuated by the dark mutterings of the crew and an occasional terse tut from Mrs Briggs. The Captain himself spends much of the night wondering if he's been played for a fool, but the first glimmer of dawn banishes such thoughts from his mind. He sees that his ship is safe, with Phoebe walking the deck. When she sees him she waves, and a wave he returns, though he feels like an idiot.

The storm, when it comes, is as terrible as it is unexpected. They're just about to break their fast with fresh fruit when suddenly they are being lashed by harsh unrelenting heavy rain. A wave rolls in from nowhere, picking up the life boat and hurling it toward the ship. The Captain fights his way to the prow of the boat to call to Phoebe.

“You must weigh anchor!” he screams, pointing to the rope. “You must weigh anchor to ride out the storm.”

He's not sure she's understood his words when a second wave grabs their boat, hurling them toward the ship once more. The Captain realises the only chance of survival is to ride that wave, which they cannot do while tethered to the ship. He quickly cuts the cord but he's too late, the life boat smashes into the side of the ship, disintegrating as it does.

The crew plunge into the turbulent waters, weighed down by heavy chains. They fight to stay afloat, but their efforts are in vein. The last thing the Captain sees before the waters finally take him is the broad wings of a stocky bird as it takes flight from the prow of his ship, the Mary Celeste.

Sixth Interlude - Part Twenty

“W-what?” stutters the Captain. “Now?”

“Is there a better time?” Phoebe replies. “After all, the siren has already sung for the night.”

The Captain returns to the deck to inform his family and remaining crew of the turn of events. There is some confusion to begin with, followed by more than a little consternation from his wife, but Briggs stamps his foot, asserts his authority and everybody falls into line.

The life boat is quickly lowered into the water, with enough food and water for two days. The Captain, his family and crew are soon on board, manacles in place. Phoebe checks their restraints to make sure they'll hold, then pockets the key. The Captain begins to protest, but she silences him with a look. She then ties a sturdy rope to the prow of the boat, then tells them to “Row for the distance of a half cable, that should be far enough.”

Sixth Interlude - Part Nineteen

“TWO DAYS,” Captain Briggs explodes with fury, “I can't sit in that life boat for two days.”

“I'm afraid you might have to,” Phoebe tells him. “Without a wind to blow them away, it's the only way to be free of those fumes.”

The Captain begins to protest further, but the girl cuts him short.

“What's more,” she says sternly, “You'll have to be chained to your crew.”

“Chained to my...”

“Should the siren sing again, it's the only way to be sure you all stay safe,” Phoebe cuts him short once more, dealing him a certain look.

The Captain sighs with reluctance, knowing her words to be true. “Very well,” he says, “We shall make the appropriate arrangements. Will you man the ship while we're gone?”

“Of course,” she replies, with kindness, “I told you I was here to help. Shall we get started?”

Sixth Interlude - Part Eighteen

Captain Briggs ponders for a moment, struggling to understand this new information. “Tell me, strange cabin girl,” he says at last, “What can we do about our situation.”

“Well first,” Phoebe replies, “We need to clear your addled minds.”

“And how, pray tell, do we do that with no wind?”

“Obvious, isn't it?” Phoebe winks. “We have to get you off this ship.”

“A captain does not leave his ship,” Briggs declares, “Not when it's under sail.”

“Don't worry,” the girl smiles, “You'll still be in charge, just at a safer distance. You and your men will have to take the lifeboat until your heads are free from the effects of those toxic fumes.”

“How long will that be?”

“Oh I would say no longer than a day, maybe two.”

Sixth Interlude - Part Seventeen

“Why would these so called dark forces of yours want to do that?” the Captain asks. “To play with our minds? Where would the profit lie? And why are my wife and child unaffected?”

“I'll answer your last question first if I may?” Phoebe replies. “Mermaids and sirens are not to the fore in the superstitions of your wife and child. I'd imagine they've been having troubles of their own.”

“The girl has been having nightmares,” Briggs speculates.

“Well there you are,” she says triumphantly, “The child has bad dreams, no doubt your wife is similarly afflicted with some private hell. But you and your crew, however, why even the most sceptical of sea dogs know the stories only too well.”

“That doesn't explain why?”

“No,” she tells him, “It doesn't. And the sorry truth of it is that there is no reason for it, save there are those in the Weft who would find such activity a thing of entertainment, to play with the crew of a twice named ship. There are those who would find that entertainment indeed.”

Sixth Interlude - Part Sixteen

“So it's in the wrong barrel,” Briggs replies, “What of it?”

“Normally you probably wouldn't have a problem,” Phoebe tells him, “But with no wind, those fumes have started to affect you and your crew.”

“So you're telling me we're all drunk and what, imagining the siren's song?”

“Not imagining, no” the girl replies, “But... how can I put this... you're all a little more susceptible to suggestion. Something in the Weft has picked up on that.”

“Something in the what? Are we back to your riddles already?”

“Never mind the what,” Phoebe declares, “Your brains are addled from alcohol fumes allowing... dark forces... yes, dark forces to play with your minds.”

Sixth Interlude - Part Fifteen

“My ship is becalmed,” the Captain begins in apoplexy, “And late to port, my crew are being lured to their certain deaths by some watery witch and you're telling me that my problem is my cargo?”

“It's not the whole problem,” Phoebe replies, “But it does lie at the heart of things.”

“You'd best be explaining yourself,” the Captain says, folding his arms with scepticism. “And none of your riddles mind.”

“Your cargo,” the girl begins, drawing a deep breath, “Is commercial alcohol, used for fortifying wines and such like, correct?”

Briggs nods with a grunt.

“Such alcohol is very intoxicating, even the fumes, and requires a particularly sturdy barrel for transportation. Correct?”

Again the Captain nods and grunts.

“Your cargo isn't in that type of barrel.”

Sixth Interlude - Part Fourteen

“A collective what?” Captain Briggs demands.

“Hallucination,” Phoebe tells him, “Only it's a bit more complicated than that. Call it a partially targeted collective hallucination.”

“I didn't loosen that gag for you to spout gibberish,” the Captain yells, unable to contain his frustration. “Speak sense, or the chains go back on and over the side you go.”

“Okay,” Phoebe says, “Let's try this from a different angle. Your cargo? Have you had much experience transporting these type of goods.”

“I've carried alcohol before, if that's what you're asking, but I don't touch a drop of it.”

“Transported alcohol, I'm sure,” Phoebe replies, “But not this type of commercial alcohol?”

The captain frowns, but shakes his head.

“And that's where your problems begin.”

Sixth Interlude - Part Thirteen

The Captain returns to the deck just in time to see the mate dive head first into the waters below.

“Albert!” he shouts, “Don't be a bloody fool man.”

There's no reply, just the gentle splashing noise of the mate swimming away from the ship.

The Captain races back to the brig, tearing the gag from the girl's mouth.

“You said you're here to help?” He demands. She nods in reply, one chained hand rubbing at her mouth. “Then what in God's name is happening?” The Captain asks.

The girl doesn't reply, but instead stares pointedly at the manacles that bind her. Briggs fumbles through his pockets until he finds the master key, then quickly releases her. Outside, the siren's song fades away.

“Well?” he demands.

“Collective hallucination,” Phoebe tells him.

Sixth Interlude - Part Twelve

The day passes slowly, as if time itself is dragging its heels, reluctant to face the sunset. But eventually, inevitably, the sun begins its slow crawl toward the horizon and dusk settles in. As the golden bauble finally boils into the sea, Captain Briggs hears the first faint echoes of that haunting lament.

He grabs his knife from the table and charges onto the ship's deck, colliding with the mate as he does. “Keep alert,” he commands, regaining his composure, “I'll not lose another man this night.”

He turns before the mate can reply, racing below deck to the brig. When he arrives he flings open the door. “You can stop that right now,” he shouts as he enters, knife at the ready. What he finds is the girl, Phoebe, secure in manacles and gag very firmly in place.

Sixth Interlude - Part Eleven

“Should we not just kill her and be done with it?” Ed the cook asks the Captain once the girl is out of sight. “We'll all feel a lot safer once she's gone.”

“I'll not have killin' in the name of superstition,” Captain Briggs replies, “Not on my boat.” He looks across the remainder of his crew. “You're all safe where she is,” he tells them, “now be about your duties, that wind could come at any moment.”

The ship gradually drifts into its usual rhythm, but a cloud of anguish and paranoia hangs around her sails. The men find work to do above deck, sharing an unspoken reluctance to go below. The Captain, meanwhile, spends another fretful day pacing his cabin, flicking pointlessly at his charts. He's waiting for a wind that doesn't come, dreading a sunset that is inevitable.

Sixth Interlude - Part Ten

“How did you get on my boat?” The Captain demands again, keeping the knife at her throat.

“I have my ways and means,” she smiles, “Though I doubt you'd understand. Now are you going to let me help you or will you send me back to the Forest?”

“Back to the Forest?” he growls. “I have no time for riddles and nonsense, I will have answers.”

“Then stop this childish knife play,” she responds sternly. “It's not as if you can hurt me anyway. And I'm not overly fond of this body.”

“More riddles!” The Captain declares, stuffing the cloth back in her mouth. “Clap her in irons and put her in the brig,” he commands. “And make sure she's properly gagged,” he adds as the mate cuts her loose and leads her below deck.

Sixth Interlude - Part Nine

Captain Briggs is taken aback by the insolence he perceives in Phoebe's wink.

“What problem?” he demands, “You think you can summon the winds? Preposterous. How did you get on my boat, wench?”

She looks him in the eye with a gaze he finds unnerving. “I'd be careful just who I called wench,” she says. “Today I'm here to help, but you might find I bring ill fortune were I to visit again.”

The Captain presses the knife deeper into her neck. “Was that a threat?”

“Call it a consideration. I'm the only thing that stands between you and almost certain death.” Her eyes flick in the direction of the knife. “Your hospitality skills seem to be somewhat deficient.”

Sixth Interlude - Part Eight

Another commotion on the deck brings Captain Briggs out of a deep sleep.

“We've got her,” he hears Ed, the steward, shout. “She was skulking around the cargo.”

By the time he makes it on deck, the crew are gathered round the foremast. “Got who?” he asks, pushing his way through them.

“The siren,” declares the steward proudly.

At their centre, the Captain finds a short, plump girl, dressed for the sea, who has been tied to the post and gagged with a deck cloth.

“The siren is she?” he asks, reaching to remove the rag. “We'll see about that.”

“Careful Captain,” cries the mate, grabbing his hand, “We don't want her singing.”

“Good point,” he replies, taking a knife from his belt. Holding it to her throat, he says “Sing and I'll gut you, understand?” She nods a little. “Well then,” he says, taking the rag from her mouth, “Who are you, and what are you doing on my ship.”

“You can call me Phoebe,” she tells him with great confidence, “I've come to help you, you know, with your problem.” She winks.

Sixth Interlude - Part Seven

Briggs and the mate arrive on deck just in time to see Lorenson, another of the German boys, silently throw himself into the dark ocean below.

“God damn it,” The Captain swears, “God damn and blast!”

“Language, Benjamin” his wife admonishes, emerging from their cabin.

“Never mind language,” he shouts in reply, “That's the second man we've lost to that damned siren.”

“What siren?” she inquires.

“You didn't hear it?” he asks cautiously. “The singing?”

“All I've heard is you men causing a ruckus out here, threatening to wake the baby.”

“Show's over for the night,” the mate shouts, “Man your stations or man your bunks.”

Once more the crew turns in for the night, while the Captain slowly ambles toward his cabin, lost in thought, weighed down by worry.

Sixth Interlude - Part Six

“Quickly man,” The Captain shouts at Albert, “Hold him down!”

They both grab one of the second mate's arms, but he struggles violently against them.

“Let me go,” he wails, “She's calling for me, I have to be with her.”

“She's calling for you to swim to your grave,” Briggs wheezes as he and the mate struggle to restrain Gilling. They force him back, into his chair, each restraining an arm. It's a struggle, but they keep him there, all the while he's raving and screaming about “being chosen by HER.”

They keep at it, holding him steady, as the ethereal melancholy wafts closer, getting louder in the night air. Without warning his body goes limp, and they both relax and regain their composure.

It's a short lived peace, however, as they are soon alerted to a commotion on the deck.