“Shark!” Dervish bellows, but of course he can’t hear. Dervish looks sideways at me, tilting his head instead of asking the question outright.
“I’m ready if you are,” I tell him, though my stomach’s tight with nerves.
“If the giant closes its mouth, I don’t know if we could get out. Maybe only one of us should —”
“Don’t tempt me,” I stop him. “You and Shark risked everything to help me. It’s only fair I do the same in return. So don’t give me the option of cutting out on you now. I’m afraid I might take it.”
Dervish grins. “Then let’s go for a dip in the mouth of Moby Dick!”
Cavernous. No smells or sounds. Just the spectacle of legions of vicious demons wriggling over and around one another to take turns attacking the lonely but resilient Shark. They spot us when we enter. Dozens peel away from the main assault and hurl themselves at us. Small, furry, dark demons, like tumbleweed with claws and fangs. We swat them aside without slowing. We’ve come too far and seen too much to be scared by these hangers-on.
Shark glances up as we close in on him. His eyes are distant and I see that he thinks we’re another couple of demons. He aims a fist at me, but I step out of range. Dervish dips lower, trying to direct a tube of air at Shark so they can communicate. But Shark must think it’s a tendril or tongue. He ducks, throws demons at Dervish, edges away from him, further back into the mouth. I flash on an image of what would happen if the monster swallows now. Quickly try to purge my mind of it.
I slip behind Shark and send out a tube of my own, all the time battling the demons. Shark spots the tube, dodges it, then leaps, hands outstretched, intent on throttling me.
Dervish flies forward and collides with Shark. They crash into me and our limbs get entangled. Now that we’re touching, sharing our force fields, we can hear Shark. He’s screaming madly, vile curses, words that make no sense, desperation and isolation thick in his throat.
“Shark!” Dervish roars. “It’s us! Dervish and Kernel! We’ve come to rescue you. Stop fighting. We can get you out of here.”
Shark screams in response, raises a large tattooed fist to pound Dervish flat, then pauses, faint lines of realization rippling across his face.
“It’s really us, Shark,” I tell him. “This isn’t a trick. We came for you.”
“Impossible,” he croaks. “How could you get here? You’re illusions. Lord Loss sent you to torment me with hope.”
“Don’t be a dope,” Dervish snaps. “Could any illusion look this good?”
Shark blinks — then grins. “How?” he whispers. “How did you find me?”
“We used magic.”
“But it’s empty space out there.”
“So?”
“You mean... all this time...I could have left? I wasn’t trapped? I didn’t have to spend months...years... what-ever... fighting these horrible fur balls?”
“Nope,” Dervish says lightly.
Shark’s expression darkens. He grabs one of the demons and rips it to pieces, then uses its fur to wipe blood from his face. When he tosses the rag away, his features are composed. He sniffs as if what’s happened is no big deal. “So much for the tour,” he says casually. “Let’s go find a bar.”
Laughing, Dervish pats Shark on the back, points him towards the open mouth and guides him out of the maw of the monster, away from the gnashing teeth of the furious furry creatures, into the empty depths of darkest, coldest space.
Floating, the monster having drifted on, we tell Shark about our adventures and theory that we’re in a chessboard-shaped universe of thirty-two different zones. He listens quietly, distracted, looking around twitchily. Sighs when we finish, then says softly, “Thanks for coming.”
“We need you,” Dervish says.
“For what?” Shark snorts. “You were doing fine without me. You figured this place out and dealt with it. All I did was stay where I had something solid underfoot. I thought that was going to be the rest of my life, that mouth and those demons. Part of me wanted to surrender and let them...”
He shivers, looking very different from the Shark I first met. The fight has drained him of much of his confidence and strength. I want to say something to make him feel better, but Dervish speaks before I can put my words together.
“I think Lord Loss knows you’re the strongest of us. He wanted to break you, wear you down and kill you off, so you couldn’t help Kernel. That’s why he stuck you in the bleakest spot he could find, and did all he could to destroy you. But he failed. You’re alive. You survived where any other would have perished. So forget the self-pity. You had it tough, you dealt with it — now move on, soldier.”
Shark laughs. “Nice speech.”
“But true,” Dervish adds.
“Maybe.” Shark’s laugh turns to a chuckle. “I guess I’m not cut out to suffer nobly, am I?”