Dagon

The leg planted before Kayeera and Ygmawr belonged to a colossal Deep One, easily four or five times taller than the walls of the palace. A cascade of water poured from its skin down onto the ground, drenching Kayeera and the general in putrid seawater. Seaweed clung to its back, almost forming a cape, and barnacles covered a substantial part of the bonier parts of its body.

Its long arms hung down nearly to its bent knees, giving the beast a simian appearance that was belied by its icthyoid face, amphibian skin and enormous, wet eyes, eyes which seemed almost to droop and melt down the side of its face and into its half-open maw, lined with teeth almost as large as and much sharper than its claws.

A large fin that ran down its back flopped upright, shedding much of the thing’s seaweed cloak, which landed on the palace walls with a loud slosh before rolling down into a pile on the ground before Kayeera and Ygmawr, drenching them with water once again.

The Deep Ones lining the altar’s edge had all bowed down in its direction, but Kayeera noticed a few eyes boring directly into them. Those eyes almost looked frightened, as if something had happened that shouldn’t have.

“Athanog’thilatru,” the enormous Deep One repeated. “Kaykgyrfegethayurwettungrzzkinzmutsakfygtrew.” It spoke ponderously, every syllable rolling out of it like thunder, its massive maw flopping in a comedic manner completely at odds with the alien power of its voice.

“We don’t want to be here,” Ygmawr hissed in Kayeera’s ear. “Just run around the foot!”

Kayeera nodded and did as she was told, hopeful that the Deep One had not noticed her. Unfortunately, their path was blocked by the enormous pile of seaweed that had fallen from the Deep One’s back; the only way to or from the altar was clogged with tons of briny plant life.

“Shit,” Kayeera said as she started to dig. She quickly found that she could only make minimal progress before the weight of the seaweed became too much to move. She pursed her lips. “I’m too big to fit through; Yggie, if you can fragment yourself your pieces could probably make it,” she said.

“I am not abandoning you, soldier,” Ygmawr growled. “And that’s General Ygmawr to you still. We just need to find another way out.”

“There isn’t one,” Kayeera said, looking around. “I can’t climb those walls, and I’m sure as hell not going to jump into that water over there.”

Her eyes landed on Grzzk, who seemed surprisingly unaffected by the appearance of the Deep One. What had he called it? Dagon?

Dagon’s voice died out, though Kayeera was sure she would hear its echo for years to come. At least, she though that until something from the sea responded. She looked out past Grzzk, and watched as the sea shimmered and soundlessly changed its hue and volume. It boiled and froze, shattered and coalescaed, all at the same time, forming horrifying fractals that caused her to clutch her head in agony. Though it made no sound, the sea still roared.

“Don’t look at the sea,” Ygmawr hissed. “If you can’t see it, it can’t hurt you. I don’t think.” Ygmawr’s paw clamped down over Kayeera’s eyes, and a few moments later she could think again.

“Thanks,” she said, and turned around. Once she had, she removed Ygmawr’s paw. “We’re going to try another way out.” She climbed the pile of seaweed as Dagon began to speak once more, but she tuned out his rumblings. After many false starts and slippery falls, she reached the top of the pile. She first tried to see if she could dig her way to the door, but quickly found that task beyond her skills. “Damn, I wish I had Rhyme and Reason right now,” she said. “I guess I’ll never see them again.”

“Oh, Gunther’s got them for you,” Ygmawr said. “We found them on our way here. If we survive this you’ll get them back.” The general’s eyes alighted on a strand of kelp winding its way up from the pile to the top of the wall above the door, causing him to miss the brief light that appeared in Kayeera’s eyes. “I have an idea,” he said.

Ygmawr leapt rom Kayeera shoulders and made his way to the kelp. Kayeera followed and tugged on it; it should support her weight. “It’s risky… it’s rather slippery,” she said.

“Better than nothing,” the cat replied.

Kayeera thought a moment. “Could you go up first using your claws, and cut me holes in the middle so I can loop my hands through?”

Ygmawr nodded. “Brilliant, soldier! We’ll make a sergeant of you yet.” The feline wasted no time in following her suggestion, and Kayeera quickly followed behind him. The kelp held all the way through, and soon they were on a lower roof of the palace, behind Dagon and the altar. More than a few Deep Ones had noticed her, but they all seemed afraid to move too much or alert Dagon to her presence.

Kayeera frowned. Where did Grzzk go? His spot on the altar was empty.

“Did not need risk.” The voice came from behind her. Kayeera whirled around to find Grzzk standing there. “Plan was ruin sacrifice with me. I former Priest of Athanog’thilatru. Know it better most. Deep Ones think can fudge sacrifice. Truth Athanog’thilatru not care much about sacrifice. Deep One make many mistake; care only number and for human. I make Deep Ones mad, make them sacrifice to Athanog’thilatru to show how deal with traitor. Forget; become complacent that Athanog’thilatru not like Deep Ones sacrifice. Will bring mad on Inzmut now, hopeful leave human alone. Then free when Athanog’thilatru leave for better city.”

“What?” Kayeera said, entering a defensive stance. Ygmawr bristled on her shoulder.

“That makes no sense, wormfish,” Ygmawr said.

“How did you escape?” Kayeera asked.

“Am priest. Sorcerer. Have way. Deep Ones also forget I know how magic altar work.” Grzzk shook its head. “They forget priest have magic to take manacles off. Believe only Athanog’thilatru can. Fool.

“But Athanog’thilatru care also for number humans. You escape, you make him angry. My plan, risk me, for nothing. But must escape now, before Father Dagon sees.”

“That’s your father?”

“Father of all Deep Ones. Dagon very old. Very large. But he just huge one. Not Old One. He sense Athanog’thilatru mad. He come to fix. Is doom; Athanog’thilatru will destroy and leave. No more use for small city like us. Go to other place, other space where can feed.”

“So he doesn’t just take sacrifices from this city?”

“No. From many place across space. Only this place on this rock, though. Let us leave.” Grzzk turned around and began loping away. Ygmawr and Kayeera exchanged glances.

“Not much other choice,” Kayeera said, just as Ygmawr said “Don’t trust him.”

Kayeera sighed. “Where’s Gunther?”

Ygmawr hesitated. “Err… in the palace somewhere, I think.”

“Right. So we follow Grzzk until we can get back inside, we grab him, then run.

Ygmawr smiled. “I have a better solution.” The cat suddenly split in two down his face. Half of him leapt from Kayeera’s shoulder and sprinted towards the nearest window. “Half of me will find him, the other half will stay with you. I will bring him to you.”

“Alright,” Kayeera said, trying to blot out the image of Ygmawr splitting from her mind. “Then we go.” She followed after Grzzk, but looked behind her once more as she fled. She turned just in time to see Dagon’s enormous eye fall upon her, and saw his arm begin to reach out towards her, his mouth hanging stupidly open. She ran faster, but the arm was quickly descending.

It smashed down just as Kayeera leapt aside, and then swept towards her as she ran. She jumped atop it as it reached her and then jumped off it again before its fist could clench itself around her. The arm began sweeping the other way, but Kayeera was running forward again. Another glance back revealed Dagon to be facing her fully, his other arm descending towards her. She sidestepped the second arm, and quickly found the opposite edge of the palace roof approaching. Grzzk was nowhere in sight.

“Jump, friend!” a croaking voice called to her.

It’s not like I have another choice, she thought as she leapt from the far edge of the roof, just as both of Dagon’s hands clasped shut over where she had been only a moment before, the Deep One leaning forwards over the palace, looking as if he was about to fall.

But before he did, Kayeera fell.

The Colour of the Sea

Kayeera felt weak, her mind spinning as her knees sagged. The chains binding her to the monoliths tightened as she let the weight of her body pull them down. She could not avert her eyes from what lay behind her, much as she wished she could. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Grzzk looking at her with an unwavering gaze. “Wake!” he said, but Kayeera could not hear. She was too far away.

The space behind the altar did not make sense. It was as if a perfectly rectangular shard of reality had fallen off, revealing something else, something different, lying behind it. It was as if a window had cracked, only to reveal that it was not in fact a window, but instead a wall painted to look like a window, and behind that wall was a truth no one wanted to see.

This truth, this separate reality, was the sea. Kayeera had seen the ocean here from atop the cliffs, and it had looked to her as oceans normally did: large, wet, blue-green, and in constant motion. While Kayeera somehow instinctively knew that she was surrounded on all four sides by an enormous palace, behind the altar there was the ocean. But this ocean was not at all like what she had seen from the clifftops; this was an alien ocean. It moved like no ocean should, with purposeful and bold movements, causing it to rise ever upward against the fickle pull of gravity. There were no waves and no ripples in this ocean; its surface was smooth and unblemished, and moved with a very conscious purpose.

This ocean was also large, and somehow seemed larger than any ocean that could possibly exist. While towers of water rose from the sea just before the altar, behind it was a vast expanse of water curving gently upwards towards the sky. The curve was so slight as to be barely noticeable, yet the clear air through the broken window let Kayeera see how it swept upward in the distance, out of sight, heading towards the stars. The water became a wall impossibly far away, and yet Kayeera could see the entirety of the ocean’s expanse.

The water was the wrong color. No sea should be that color. Nothing should be that color. Colors like that should not exist.

“Athanog’thilatru gate behind,” Grzzk said. “Not this world. Other. Drag his world, consume us. Is sacrifice. Wake!”

Kayeera was still too far gone to hear his words. The sea was deep, deeper than she had ever believed the sea could be. Deep down in its depths she could see unimaginable horrors: icthyoid blobs and chitinous masses, squamous terrors and serpentine weeds. They moved independently of the flow of the sea, but always towards the altar, towards Kayeera and her sacrifices.

Where is he? Kayeera wondered in her dreamy state. Where is our Great Lord Athanog’thilatru? Will he come soon?

“Stop! Spell, dream! Trap you! Think self! Now!”

I am Athanog’thilatru, Kayeera thought, a beatific smile crossing her features. We shall be as one, as Hamda said!

Hamda.

Kayeera.

I am Kayeera. Not Atha- whatever his name is.

No. I am Athanog’thilatru. I will soon be one with him.

The throaty, gurgling utterances of the Deep Ones rolled across the altar as they began to chant and sway. Caught up in their ritual, they failed to notice a plethora of feline parts rolling through their cloaked midst onto the surface of the altar. Their eyes were focused above and before them, on the swaying columns of otherworldly water.

Grzzk watched with fascination as a collection of fur and flesh assembled itself into feline form before its eyes.

“What is?” it asked the general.

Ygmawr glared at the Deep One. “Silence, wormfish. Your kind has done this. I am glad that they have decided to end your pitiful existence.” He turned around and hopped on Kayeera’s shoulder. Kayeera’s gaze was fixed on the water, her head turned at an almost impossible angle, causing the muscles in her neck to bulge.

“Soldier, snap out of it!” the general said. He turned to gaze at the water behind him and shook his head. “Fancy magic tricks.” He focused his attention back on Kayeera. “I said wake up, soldier!” He batted her face with his paws, and when that failed to elicit a reaction, he repeated the process with his claws until she bled.

It was the blood that awoke her.

I am Athanog’thilatru… I… blood? I bleed? Athanog’thilatru does not bleed!

But Kayeera does.

“What? Where… altar!” Kayeera blinked and shook her head, dislodging Ygmawr from his shoulder post. “Dear Oukran what happened to my neck?”

“Broke her free,” Grzzk said. “Impress. Why sea no affect?”

“He’s a cat,” Kayeera said. “Nothing fazes cats.”

“Ah!” Grzzk sounded enlightened. “That is cat!”

Ygmawr pointedly ignored the Deep One. “How do we get you out of here, Kayeera?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Wait.” She slipped her left arm from its manacle. “If you can break my other arm free…”

Ygmawr scurried up her arm and inspected it with his eyes and with his claws. “Hmm… let’s try something…” The general detached one of his claws and inserted it into the manacle’s hinge. “Damn things don’t have keyholes,” he muttered.

“No need. Athanog’thilatru take us away, leave hand bind empty and open. Deep Ones just close with arm when next sacrifice come.”

“But they still have hinges,” Ygmawr continued, still ignoring the Deep One. He detached more of his claws and worked them into the hinge. After a few sickening snaps, the manacle popped open and Kayeera’s full weight hit the ground. She grinned as the feline put himself back together. “Piece of cake. That’s how it’s done, soldier.”

“Thanks,” Kayeera said. “Can we-”

“No time,” Ygmawr hissed. “If we could I would, but I don’t trust that water.”

Kayeera slowly spun around in a complete circle, drinking in the final images of the souls around her. Then she nodded. “Alright. Back towards that hall, where I came in.” She looked around at the Deep Ones ringing the altar. “They’re thick.”

“As a brick,” Ygmawr said. “Stay low, and let’s go!”

“No free me?” Grzzk asked.

Neither Kayeera nor Ygmawr responded as they sprinted for the other end of the altar.

They might have made it, too, if it weren’t for the enormous leg that slammed down in front of the doorway leading away from the altar. It looked just like the leg of a Deep One, save that it belonged to a creature that towered over the palace walls. Kayeera looked up and watched it bring its other leg over the walls, crushing a few Deep Ones beneath it.

“Athanog’thilatru,” it said slowly, its voice shaking stones in the dark palace loose.

“What in Oukran’s name…?” Kayeera said.

“Dagon,” Grzzk whispered far behind her. “Father.”

Altar Talk

The Deep One that had “escorted” Kayeera to her current location along snapped iron manacles around each of her wrists, then pulled the attached chains so that her arms were raised above her head in a ninety-degree angle, with her head in the middle, a position that forced her to stand on her tiptoes to avoid supporting her body on her arms. She made no move to resist as she was bound to the altar; it would have been pointless. Why waste energy trying when she would surely lose?

Kayeera thus found herself strung up between two needlessly tall obelisks of a black so deep they made Kayeera’s eyes ache. She watched as another Deep One strung the now-conscious Hamda up between two more obelisks, the chains around Hamda’s left arm attached to the same monolith as Kayeera’s right. Hamda was facing away from her.

On the way in, Kayeera had noticed a half dozen other captives – including her Deep One friend, Ralf, or apparently, Grzzk – strung up between obelisks in the same way, and quickly deduced that they had arrived at an altar to be, in Hamda’s words, ‘sacrificed.’ While Kayeera may not have been convinced by Hamda’s theory of death and consciousness in this strange world, it was very clear to her that something terrible was going to happen to everyone on this black altar.

Behind her was the sea, and its cold, salty wind whipped at her back. Standing at the edges of the obsidian altar were dozens of Deep Ones wearing long, thick robes of every color imaginable – and some that weren’t – watching the prisoners with unblinking eyes. Kayeera averted her own gaze; those icthyoid eyes unnerved her more than she would admit.

“So Hamda,” Kayeera said.

“We’re gonna die,” Hamda said.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Kayeera replied, her eyes focused on the chains binding her to the monolith. I wonder what you call a series of monoliths? Duoliths? Triliths? Dodecaliths? The far end of the chain seemed to melt seamlessly into the black substance the monoliths were made of. I won’t escape by pulling the chains out, it seems.

“So you’re from the human pens, right?” Kayeera continued, turning her attention to her manacles. She tried to pull her hands free. There was no hope for her right arm; the manacle was so tight she could barely slide it along her skin. The left manacle, however, was much looser, and Kayeera noticed it was somewhat warped. Years of struggling prisoners, slowly bending the metal. Kayeera moved her thumb and pinkie finger together to minimize the width of her hand, and began to pull it out of the manacle. Her eyes widened slightly. I can get out of this. Years of people trying to escape, all culminating in me being able to get my hand free.

But what’s the point? It’s only one hand. My other would still be bound.

“Yeah,” Hamda said. “God, my head hurts.”

“Where are the pens?” Kayeera asked.

“Up on shore, in the cliff faces.”

“To keep it above the waterline?”

“Dunno. Prolly.”

“How many humans are in there?”

“I dunno! Lots! It’s dark; we never got to see many.”

“How do they choose the sacrifices?”

“Stop with the questions and let me die in fucking peace!”

Kayeera sighed and looked more closely at the tight right manacle. Maybe I can smash it…

“Who sacrifice change each time. Old One demand different type every sacrifice. Deep Ones go pens, pick out first ones match they see.”

“Grzzk, I take it?” Kayeera asked, doing her best to pronounce the name. The Deep One was behind her, but Kayeera did not turn to look.

“Enough close. Is fascin… fas… in-ter-esting how humans in pens talk. Form own… society up there. Teach language to other, and custom. Spend most of life in darkness. Much mind game. Even have religion. In it Deep Ones cruel gods. Take to be sacrificed or eaten.”

“Eaten?” Kayeera said. No, this looks too strong to smash.

“Yes. Lots eaten. Most human eaten, not sacrificed. Sacrifice more rare. Deep Ones like flesh of human. Better fish.”

“Humans are better fish?”

“Better than fish. Human tongue silly.”

“Quite,” Kayeera said. “And you were so fascinated by these humans that you sided with them?” She shook her head. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“Yes. Came to watch from boredom. Came to… pity… feel for them.”

“Liar!” Hamda said.

“I am not human. Can not express same way,” Grzzk said. “But is true. I did.”

“And did you ever eat human flesh?

“Yes. Had to.”

“You never have to do anything,” Kayeera observed, somewhat detachedly. What an odd creature, this Grzzk.

“No reason not eat flesh. Everyone did. I not think about it. Humans animals for us. Not until I saw them that I thunk different. Think? Yes. Then I stop.”

“Hm. So why didn’t you tell me you were a Deep One back there?” Kayeera asked.

“Would have talked otherwise?”

“Probably, actually. I’m not from this world.”

“From Dream place?”

Kayeera paused her escape-oriented thoughts. “What? You know about the Dreamlands?”

“Yes. All Deep Ones know. Few can see, though. Only for human and ‘cat,’ though I no know what ‘cat’ is. Most Deep One too much fish, not much human. Need human part for… ‘Dreamlands,’ you call?”

“You’re completely inhuman!” Hamda spat.

“Deep One born of fish and human. Fish bigger part now.”

“What do you know of the Dreamlands?” Kayeera asked.

“We know is place humans run to when Old Ones come. Is other world, where safe.”

“Why are the Dreamlands safe from the Old Ones?”

“No know. Maybe Old Ones no care. Maybe protect humans. Maybe Old Ones can’t go.”

“Well, there are some Old Ones in the Dreamlands… your first hypothesis is probably right.”

“Hypo… tisis?”

“Guess. Theory. I’m guessing the Old Ones just don’t care.”

“Old Ones not care about much things.”

Kayeera thought she heard a yowl reach her ears. She turned her head to look in its direction, but did not see anything.

“So, Grzzk, mind telling me what is going to happen?” And how I can escape?

“Deep Ones bring more prisoners up to fill altar. At time, Old One comes, devours us. Old One leave Deep Ones alone.”

“Your Old Ones make no sense,” Kayeera said. “They don’t care about things, except sacrifices to themselves, and you are their servants, yet you have to bribe them to leave you alone with lives.” She paused. “Thought granted, it’s only human lives you’re giving up.”

“Bastards,” Hamda said.

“World not make sense. Odd place,” Grzzk said. I guess it didn’t catch my sarcasm. Understandable.

“So, Grzzk, what are you going to do about all of this?” Kayeera asked. “You seem remarkably calm for someone facing certain death.” Kayeera paused a moment. “Hang on, didn’t you say the Old One specified certain types of humans for death? Did he specify a Deep One this time?”

Grzzk let out what was probably a rasping, watery chuckle. “No. I bonus. And plan moving now. Just wait.”

Kayeera turned her head around to look at Grzzk. There was a prisoner between her and the Deep One, but he appeared catatonic. Grzzk must have noticed her gaze, for it spoke. “Altar drains spirit. Makes human weak. You strong, to still speak and resist.” That explains why Hamda has been so quiet. And why I didn’t resist more…

“Yeah, well maybe this altar doesn’t work on Dreamlanders,” Kayeera said.

“Is possible. Interesting think.”

The sound of many shuffling feet came from in front of Kayeera. She turned around. A dozen Deep One guards led another bedraggled group of humans onto the altar, and fastened them to their obelisks just like Kayeera was, until every obelisk was connected to at least one other by a chained human – or Deep One.

Kayeera looked around at the completed setup and narrowed her eyes. “This obelisks here are in the shape of an Elder Sign, aren’t they? Doesn’t that repel Old Ones?”

“Not so simple. Yes but no. Is little Elder Sign, but one way only. True Elder Sign in more worlds; Elder Sign in this world only helpful. When also drawn other worlds, bad.”

Kayeera spent a few moments puzzling that monster of a paragraph out. “So… drawing only part of the Elder Sign is good for them, but when drawn across dimensions it is bad?”

“Yes. Is complek.”

“Complex,” Kayeera corrected absently as she thought.

She turned around once more to look at Grzzk. “Now-” She stopped and her eyes widened. “The… sea. What happened to it?” As she spoke, the Deep Ones all around the altar took steps backwards or else fled to higher ground.

Grzzk chuckled once more. It did not turn around. “Athanog’thilatru is here.”

Dark Palace

“This thing don’t breathe, you damn cat,” Gunther said as he made his way towards the palace entrance, completely covered in the skin of a Deep One. Gunther’s face was hidden behind his costume’s mostly-closed mouth, and the general was curled around his neck, peering out through the Deep One’s maw along with the human.

‘Walked’ would have been too generous a word for what Gunther was doing; the Deep One’s skin did not fit very well, it being easily three heads taller than him, causing the skin to sag all around him. Furthermore, the limbs did not match up well with his own, causing the skin to flop all around him as he put one foot in front of the other. “Feels like I’m wearin’ really loose rubber,” he continued.

Ygmawr snorted. “I don’t know what rubber is, but these wormfish probably don’t breathe either. Fish don’t breathe, do they now?”

“Well, these fish walk on land too, idiot. And I’m pretty sure I saw you tear a pair o’lungs from this thing.”

“Silence! We are approaching the gate!”

“And what happens if they ask me to talk an my mouth don’t move? Do I pretend I’m throwin’ my voice?”

“Good improvisation, soldier. Now quiet!”

The entrance to the black stone palace was an open doorway with no actual doors in sight, and was easily four or five times Gunther’s height. It was accessible only by a barnacle-covered stone ramp, which Gunther slowly made his way, struggling to keep his foot aligned with the much larger Deep One’s hollow one while maintaining what he though was a natural gait.

Two guards flanked the entrance, and they both stared curiously as Gunther flopped way past them. They didn’t say a word, and after a moment lost interest in him and looked back out at the city as the poorly disguied human and cat walked through the doorway, and found themselves in an enormous room, carpeted with seaweed and lit by barnacle chandeliers. Table of driftwood were scattered haphazardly about it, and hundreds of Deep Ones sat around them, eating from stone bowls and chatting in their terrible tongue.

“That actually worked?” Gunther whispered. “What the hell? Why didn’ they nab us?”

“Doubtless they are so confident in their safety here, in this place, that the guards are merely ceremonial,” Ygmawr said. “Who is there to challenge their domination? The humans are all locked up in pens somewhere, probably high up on land out of the water – the cliffs, maybe? – and they can’t defend themselves against one of your Old Ones. Guards are only useful for fending off other wormfish, and they all seem to be of one mind. And on top of that, private, if you were in their shoes, would you have thought of this plan?”

“No, ’cause it’s stupid.”

“It’s brilliant. There is a fine line between the two, and I always know where I stand with regards to it. You could learn a lot from me, dear Gunther.”

“No one in their right mind would want to do this, either,” Gunther muttered. “I’m covered in fish guts, and seein’ as we don’t have any spare clothes, I’ll be smellin’ like this for… for the rest of forever, prolly.”

“It will stay in my fur for longer, so stop your whining,” Ygmawr hissed.

“Sure it will,” came the reply. “And now, genius, what do we do?”

“Kind Kayeera, of course.”

“And how we gonna do that?”

“Ygmawr narrowed his eyes as he peered around the room. “Just walk straight ahead, and through the big door at the far end. Then up those stairs.”

“Alright, gen’ral,” he said, and began to walk forward once more. The seaweed coating the floor made walking very difficult, so he walked painfully slowly, much to Ygmawr’s vocal, yet quiet, annoyance.

“Everyone’s probably watching us, soldier. Move faster! This pace isn’t natural! They’ll get suspicious!”

“If the guards didn’t notice us, why would these people? Your logic doesn’ make sense!”

“I think they’re laughing at us!”

“Let them!”

“That’s a demerit on your record, soldier!”

“Fine by me!”

When he was only a few steps away from the stairs, Gunther’s right foot slid out from inside the foot of the Deep One, and he slipped on the seaweed and fell flat on his face, one of the Deep One’s teeth scratching his face. The sound of what could only be laughter reached their ears.

“Idiot!” Ygmawr said. “Watch where you step!”

“You wanna try walkin’ this thing?” Gunther hissed.

“That is the task of the grunt, not the strategist. Now get back up!”

Gunther got to his feet, only to find that the Deep One’s mouth was now almost entirely closed. He moved one arm up to it, pretending to scratch his jaw, and locked it back into place, supporting the upper jaw with teeth stabbed into the lower.

He took his first step on the stairs and began heading up. The noise from the room below faded rapidly as they ascended the stairs – which were much taller than either of them thought they would be – and after about a ten minute climb they reached the top. There were no voices around them, and only a straight corridor with numerous doorways lining both sides. Straight ahead was another stair, also leading up.

“Up we go, soldier!” Ygmawr said. Gunther sighed and continued walking, and after the second, much shorter, set of steps was conquered, he found a sea breeze blowing in his face. He looked around to see that we was standing on the roof of the palace, which was flat, featureless, and devoid of Deep Ones. The breeze soon became a gust, and blew the dead Deep One’s mouth open, blasting Gunther and Ygmawr with cold, salty air for a brief moment before the mouth clamped shut again. Gunther opened the mouth again, and then the wind gusted once more, this time from the opposite direction, ripping open the seam that Ygmawr had sewn on the Deep One’s back together using ligaments and claws to allow Gunther to crawl in.

Gunther swore as cold air filled the suit, and he toppled over onto the ground. He felt Ygmawr shatter around him. “Fuck it,” he said, and clawed his way out of the suit’s cloying grasp. He let out a contented sigh as he stepped out into the cold air. Though the suit had been warmer, Gunther decided that he much preferred the fresh air.

He took advantage of his new freedom of movement and sight to walk towards the nearest wall ringing the palace’s rooftop. The black palace itself was far larger than what lay beneath this one roof; enormous towers rose from other sections of the palace closer to the sea.

“Idiot!” Ygmawr hissed. “What are you doing?”

Gunther spared a glance back at the fragmented cat. “There’re no fishmen here,” he said.

“But they could be watching us from the towers!” the cat hissed. “This carelessness would earn you a court martial back at Ulthar – if you survived revealing yourself to the zoogs, that is!”

“Oh, shut up,” Gunther said as he walked over to the wall. It was probably meant to be hip-height, but Deep Ones were larger than humans, and so Gunther could barely see over it. “What do you think is over that wall?” he asked.

“Let’s find out,” the cat said. A moment later, half of the general scrabbled its way up the rough stone wall, then vanished out of sight. A soft yowl of surprise reached Gunther’s ears a moment later.

“It’s an altar! One side is open on the sea… it doesn’t make sense! There’s a palace when you look at it this way, but it’s the sea the other way…”

“Don’t try to understand it,” Gunther said. “Geography don’t work the same anymore. Space’s prolly just all broken up here. Prolly why they built the altar there.”

“In the middle of the palace? Hmm… Good thinking, soldier! An altar at the center of the the village, but also that opens up to other places! They probably built this palace around that space! That’s one merit for you!”

“Oh, hoorah,” Gunther said. “How do you know it’s an altar?”

“It’s a big obsidian slab – biggest one I’ve seen – with rows of black obelisks darker than the night arranged in a strange pattern, almost like a branch.”

“Straight line with five lines goin off it, two on one side and three on the other?”

“That’s exactly it! How did you know that?”

“That’s the Elder Sign.”

“What? I thought those were meant to fend off the Old Ones and their servants! Why would the wormfish use one?”

“Fishmen. And I dunno,” Gunther said. “We’d need to ask Hans.”

“Of course we would,” Ygmawr muttered. A moment later he continued describing the scene. “There are chains hanging from the obelisks… a lot of humans are strapped to them… they’re bringing out a wormfish now! And chaining his arms, one each to a different obelisk… And two more humans… wait…”

Something turned over in Gunther’s stomach. It’s Kayeera.

“Kayeera!” Ygmawr howled. They’re was a scrabbling sound from above, and then Ygmawr’s yowl grew fainter, as if it was falling a great distance.

“Well, shit,” Gunther said, turning back to look at Ygmaw’s rear end, which was now scrabbling across the stone floor as best it could. The man scooped it up and chucked it over the wall. “I don’t want your arse,” he said. He turned around and faced the now descending staircase. “Now I do things my way.” He unholstered his gun and ran back down into the palace.