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[talien]

“How did you get here, anyway?” Beldin asked Kham.

They were all concealed in the brush near one of the stone altars. Starlight illuminated their features.

Kham shrugged. “When I got knocked off the ship, I threw my folding boat and landed on it. I drifted for a while, unconscious. When I woke up, I followed you guys.”

“So you were the other ship we saw when we got sucked into the portal.” Sebastian was hunkered down, watching the altar intently.

“And the Kraken’s Claw was the third,” said Vlad. “Captain Baumann’s ship got sucked in as well, that’s how I ended up here.”

“I’m not sure I like this plan,” said Beldin. “And I definitely don’t like that Bell.”

Sebastian held the gold Leviathan Bell in his hands. It pulsed with dark energy. “According to von Grebel, Zoltan Zaska’s flying fortress will seek to rescue one of his many clones from the other island. The bell controls the zombies. So it’s simply a matter of ordering them to kidnap one of Zaska’s clones and bring him here. ”

“Then what?” asked Vlad.

“The fortress will attempt to rescue him. That’s when we board.”

“Sounds simple,” Kham said sarcastically.

“But what happens once they bring the victim to the altar?” asked Beldin.

Von Grebel appeared before Sebastian could answer him.

“They’re coming. Get down!”

The undead slowly dragged their captive toward the altar. Although the man looked like he had given up hope of escape, he suddenly began to struggle with the last of his remaining strength. His voice, now hoarse from screaming at the unfeeling creatures holding him, managed a few incoherent utterances. Despite his efforts, his captors did not break their shambling stride.

“Sebastian…” began Beldin. “I don’t think…”

Two of the undead creatures forced the man down onto the slab, while two others methodically manacled him to the table. The remaining monster slowly removed a long ebony dagger from its scabbard. Once its companions secured the prisoner, it dispassionately sliced the man’s throat.

“No!” Beldin’s cry of dismay was drowned out by the roar of something massive descending from the sky.

A shadow passed over them with a whoosh of air that nearly knocked them flat.

Above them was a skull—a gleaming polished skull at least twice as big as a man-o-war. The eyes were giant rubies, illuminated from behind with a hellish red light. Its jaw clanked and grinded, exposing a maw large enough to swallow a dozen men.

The clone, his doom certain, gurgled in pain as a spray of blood erupted from the gash in his neck. His captors unsheathed their swords and held them loosely at their side, waiting for the inevitable to come.

The Skull’s mouth opened wide as it dove right towards the altar.

“Now!” shouted von Grebel.

They ran flat out towards the altar.

Vlad reached it first. Earth and foliage plowed upwards as the lower half of the jaw dug into the earth. Kham was right behind him. Sebastian flew upwards into the mouth.

Beldin was not as fast. The mouth consumed the altar, the victim, and the zombies. It began to close as the Skull moved upwards.

Kham sighed. With a flash, he disappeared and Beldin was standing in his place.

A few seconds later, one of Kham’s hands appeared clutching the top of the Skull’s lower tooth. He rolled in just as the mouth clamped shut.

“We made it!” said Vlad.

The sacrificial victim was dead, his pale corpse in stark contrast to the halo of blood that spread around him in the mouth of the Skull. The zombies, their task completed, collapsed in a ring around the victim, creating a macabre scene.

Sebastian held the Bell in his hands, holding it tenderly to his bosom like a newborn babe. “Sacrifices had to be made.”

Beldin stood over the body, shaking his head. “But at what price?”