Read Online Ocean Of Fear (Book 6) by William King - Free Book Online
Authors: William King
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down its algae-covered sides. The steps of the pyramid jutted twice the height of a man, but ramps went up the side of the structure. Their curved sides were smooth. Going up them felt like crawling up a grain chute in a warehouse.
Kormak led the way. Behind him the men pulled themselves up the side of the ziggurat. He risked a glance back at the city.
The canals formed moats around blocks of buildings and flowed into large pools dominated by central hexagonal islands. The structures seemed the tips of gigantic towers emerging from an infinitely deep pool of semi-stagnant water.
The water shimmered black and vast. Sinister ripples moved across it, as if an enormous beast displaced it as it rose to the surface. He half-expected to see a massive head emerge.
After the sun’s light died, a faint phosphorescent glow appeared on the surface of the water, giving the whole city a ghostly appearance.
He clambered on, knowing they did not have time now to return to the ship. They were going to have to make camp on top of the great six-sided pyramid. He wondered if they would survive the night.
CHAPTER EIGHT
PHOSPHORESCENT INSECTS SWARMED over the canals. Greenish balls of light drifted over the pools of murky water. Tendrils of mist rose like steam from a boiling pot, strange vapours produced by hidden things in the depths. The shadows of the buildings loomed out of the gloom. In the shimmer of moonlight and the stagnant waters’ glow, Triturek had an eerie, inhuman beauty.
Kormak clambered over the lip of the chute and out onto the summit. He stood on a vast flat area of interlocked stone blocks. In the centre, the dark maw of a great pit loomed. The ashy remains of cooking fires spread across the flagstones.
The soldiers muttered and groaned as they emerged behind him. One of them helped Frater Jonas up. The priest breathed like a beached whale. Sweat soaked his robes.
Kormak walked over to the remains of another campfire. A broken grog bottle lay near it.
Zamara glanced at Jonas with something like contempt. He strode over to Kormak, looked down at the blackened stonework, knelt, stirred the ashes with a finger.
“The Kraken has been here,” he said.
“He can’t be too far ahead of us,” Kormak said.
Zamara looked around and made an ironic sweep with his hand. “Unless he used the chutes to slide down the far side of this accursed pyramid.”
“I suspect he went inside,” Kormak said. He walked over to the gaping pit in the ziggurat’s roof. Around its edges ran another ramp, smooth and flat and bounded by stonework carved with the faces of toad-headed demons. The ramp vanished down into the distance, turning at right angles at a new level below.
“The Triturids obviously did not believe in stairs,” the captain said. He glanced over his shoulder. The soldiers had lined up on the edge of the ziggurat. One took a piss off its edge. Others watched the lights in the city below and whispered to each other. They seemed grateful to have reached a place where they could not be so easily ambushed. Frater Jonas sat down near the remains of the fire, letting his breathing subside.
“We’re going to have to go in, aren’t we?” He spoke softly so that the others could not hear.
“The Kraken came up here for a reason,” Kormak said, “and I doubt it was simply to enjoy the fine views of the city. Whatever he is looking for is somewhere below us.”
“We’ll let the men get their breath back and then head down,” Zamara said.
He paused for a while and then said, “Strange, strange place. I wonder what it was.”
Frater Jonas picked himself and limped over. “I am guessing a temple.”
Zamara walked over to the edge of the ziggurat. He tilted his head to one side, contemplating what he saw. “You could fit the port of Trefal into a small corner of this city. What happened to it? Why was it abandoned?”
Jonas shrugged. “No one knows. I am curious about what is below.”
“We all
Kormak led the way. Behind him the men pulled themselves up the side of the ziggurat. He risked a glance back at the city.
The canals formed moats around blocks of buildings and flowed into large pools dominated by central hexagonal islands. The structures seemed the tips of gigantic towers emerging from an infinitely deep pool of semi-stagnant water.
The water shimmered black and vast. Sinister ripples moved across it, as if an enormous beast displaced it as it rose to the surface. He half-expected to see a massive head emerge.
After the sun’s light died, a faint phosphorescent glow appeared on the surface of the water, giving the whole city a ghostly appearance.
He clambered on, knowing they did not have time now to return to the ship. They were going to have to make camp on top of the great six-sided pyramid. He wondered if they would survive the night.
CHAPTER EIGHT
PHOSPHORESCENT INSECTS SWARMED over the canals. Greenish balls of light drifted over the pools of murky water. Tendrils of mist rose like steam from a boiling pot, strange vapours produced by hidden things in the depths. The shadows of the buildings loomed out of the gloom. In the shimmer of moonlight and the stagnant waters’ glow, Triturek had an eerie, inhuman beauty.
Kormak clambered over the lip of the chute and out onto the summit. He stood on a vast flat area of interlocked stone blocks. In the centre, the dark maw of a great pit loomed. The ashy remains of cooking fires spread across the flagstones.
The soldiers muttered and groaned as they emerged behind him. One of them helped Frater Jonas up. The priest breathed like a beached whale. Sweat soaked his robes.
Kormak walked over to the remains of another campfire. A broken grog bottle lay near it.
Zamara glanced at Jonas with something like contempt. He strode over to Kormak, looked down at the blackened stonework, knelt, stirred the ashes with a finger.
“The Kraken has been here,” he said.
“He can’t be too far ahead of us,” Kormak said.
Zamara looked around and made an ironic sweep with his hand. “Unless he used the chutes to slide down the far side of this accursed pyramid.”
“I suspect he went inside,” Kormak said. He walked over to the gaping pit in the ziggurat’s roof. Around its edges ran another ramp, smooth and flat and bounded by stonework carved with the faces of toad-headed demons. The ramp vanished down into the distance, turning at right angles at a new level below.
“The Triturids obviously did not believe in stairs,” the captain said. He glanced over his shoulder. The soldiers had lined up on the edge of the ziggurat. One took a piss off its edge. Others watched the lights in the city below and whispered to each other. They seemed grateful to have reached a place where they could not be so easily ambushed. Frater Jonas sat down near the remains of the fire, letting his breathing subside.
“We’re going to have to go in, aren’t we?” He spoke softly so that the others could not hear.
“The Kraken came up here for a reason,” Kormak said, “and I doubt it was simply to enjoy the fine views of the city. Whatever he is looking for is somewhere below us.”
“We’ll let the men get their breath back and then head down,” Zamara said.
He paused for a while and then said, “Strange, strange place. I wonder what it was.”
Frater Jonas picked himself and limped over. “I am guessing a temple.”
Zamara walked over to the edge of the ziggurat. He tilted his head to one side, contemplating what he saw. “You could fit the port of Trefal into a small corner of this city. What happened to it? Why was it abandoned?”
Jonas shrugged. “No one knows. I am curious about what is below.”
“We all
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