Death's Abyss Read online

  Table of Contents

  Quotes

  Further Reading

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Map

  Prelude

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Patreon and Kickstarter

  Author's Note

  About the Author

  Praise for FALLEN GODS:

  Beneath the fantasy and horror, a simmering love story brews. One that left me uneasy and completely unsure how to feel. Not because Ms. Simper failed, but because she succeeded so very, very well.

  -Evie Drae, author of Beauregard and the Beast

  Simper has created a brilliant combination of gruesomely dark fantasy and scorching romance. The protagonists are both so flawed, you are at once drawn to and repelled by them. Simper takes the idea of grey morality and writes it to perfection.

  -The Lesbian Review

  Simper has created a complex, immersive world for the series and that’s not even touching on the well-developed characters or the complicated, fucked up relationship you can’t help but ship anyway.

  -Manic Femme Reviews

  Praise for Camilla and Laura:

  A beautiful retelling . . . perfect for anyone who likes darker-themed romance, horror stories, or plain ol’ lesbian vampires.

  -The Lesbian 52

  Praise for SEA AND STARS:

  “If you like your fantasy with an extra dark twist, exceptional world building and deeply complex characters then reel this book in fast. You’ll be hooked.”

  -The Lesbian Review

  Other books by S D Simper:

  The Sting of Victory (Fallen Gods 1)

  Among Gods and Monsters (Fallen Gods 2)

  Blood of the Moon (Fallen Gods 3)

  Carmilla and Laura

  The Fate of Stars (Sea and Stars 1)

  Heart of Silver Flame (Sea and Stars 2)

  Death’s Abyss (Sea and Stars 3)

  Forthcoming books:

  Tear the World Apart (Fallen Gods 4) – Fall 2020

  Eve of Endless Night (Fallen Gods 5) – TBA

  Chaos Rising (Fallen Gods 6) – TBA

  S D Simper

  © 2020 Endless Night Publications

  Death’s Abyss

  Copyright © 2020 Endless Night Publications

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permissions, send a query to [email protected].

  Cover art by Jade Merien

  Cover design and interior by Jerah Moss

  Map by Mariah Simper

  ISBN (ebook): 978-1-952349-02-7

  Visit the author at www.sdsimper.com

  Facebook: sdsimper

  Twitter: @sdsimper

  Instagram: sdsimper

  For LaRae

  One thousand years before the Old Gods return,

  a monster comes to destroy the seas.

  The whole world holds its breath.

  A shadow moved toward the undersea utopia of Stelune.

  Citizens went about their day, content beneath the autumn rays of the sun, the water cool and invigorating. Shopkeepers sold their wares to wanting customers, money exchanging hands with a gentle clink. Protestors cried in the canals, ignored by those who gave no care to the inevitable war.

  But sounds of joy and anger silenced when a great shadow appeared at the edge of the valley. A hush filled the populace as a mass of tentacles slowly undulated above the rocks. Countless suckered appendages steadily spread wide, and as it moved to cover the edges of the canyon—for its tentacles reached nearly as far—thus was revealed a gigantic, unblinking eye at its center, larger than any of the residents of Stelune and as vibrant as a second sun, though a great slit marred the center, pure black upon a golden star.

  The leviathan had come

  Like thunder across the sea, his voice shook the very foundation of the earth. “This shall do.”

  The silence broke; screams erupted among the merfolk.

  The leviathan—Yu’Khrall, Son of Onias—descended upon the city, tentacles swooping out. Structures crumbled, spewing clouds of dust that swirled around the black appendages. Screams cut off as toppled buildings crushed their residents; fleeing merfolk were engulfed by Yu’Khrall’s tentacles, carried to the center of the mass.

  His beak-like mouth opened, revealing an endless void wherein the victims might rot. He consumed all he grabbed—soon, blood seeped from the edges, yet his hunger remained limitless.

  Some fled, a few even managing to dodge the array of darting tentacles and escape across the valley’s walls. Others cowered in crevices or within their homes, only to be exposed when the stone collapsed. Soon, blood rose from the ground, saturating the water as Yu’Khrall picked up the dead and dying and plunged them into his maw.

  At the center of Stelune remained a beacon of hope—the castle stood as a final bastion among the carnage. Armored merfolk swam from its alcoves, spears in hand, only to be cast aside or grabbed by its massive appendages. One fell upon the castle’s walls, destroying the outer gates with merely an idle blow.

  Another, more deliberate, crushed it from the center.

  Amidst the slaughter, Yu’Khrall floated down to the center of the massive valley and stretched his tentacles, able to bridge the widest part. Any movement was met with a swift end, either by being swatted into the ground, broken and bleeding, or caught and condemned to the monster’s mouth.

  Content, he settled upon a kingdom of rubble. Those who remained cowered.

  The leviathan had long ago disappeared from her vision, but Tallora swam as quickly as her aching tail would allow. Although lacerated from the braided kelp that had bound her, scraped by the cave’s walls, her scales had stopped bleeding in time. Her tears had staunched as well, though her heart palpitated with fear.

  Yet, she swam toward the danger. She had to warn Stelune, her mother, Kal’s family . . .

  All she knew might be lost. And so she swam even when her lungs threatened to burst, when she swore her tail had been wrung ragged. The faintest aftertaste of rust touched her tongue, and Tallora flinched to even breathe.

  Upon the horizon, the first hints of her beloved valley appeared, yet she saw no light, save from the sun. The water seemed saturated in a deep red cloud, and her limbs numbed from panic. It grew thicker as she swam, the putrid taste growing sharp.

  She kept her body close to the ground, lest the creature appear and see her, though a leviathan would likely struggle to hide. She herself hid among the rocks and scattered arrays of kelp leading to the slope that ended in Stelune.

  She saw nothing. Not until her face peeked over a sheer cliff face.

  There it lay, its great eye having become the new center of the once beautiful city. The behemoth lay still, yet remained far taller than even the destroyed castle. Its tentacles spread out from the center, easily touching the canyon walls. The rainbow of colors had been reduced to rubble and grey dust, saturated red by t
he thick cloud of carnage engulfing the city. Every breath Tallora stole burned her lungs, and she’d surely be coughing out dirt and blood for days, yet she could not tear her eyes away from the horror, from that massive eye, that closed mouth, like a deformed squid, and the hundreds of pulsing tentacles, idly floating in the water.

  As she watched, a serene tentacle suddenly darted out, deliberate as it grabbed a colored bit of movement in the distance and brought it to its mouth. The cloud of red pulsed as though alive. Tallora’s hand covered her mouth, struck by the countless lives extinguished by this monster’s actions.

  All of Stelune. Thousands of innocents. By Staella’s Grace, what of her momma—

  “You!”

  She gasped, her tears escaping into the sea as an unfamiliar voice stole her focus. Behind, she saw a man with the gaze of one who had witnessed death, pale and distant, the scales of his kelp-green tail seeping blood.

  His eyes softened at her stare. “There’s a group of us, not too far away. Other survivors. We’d best hurry—the blood is attracting hordes of sharks.”

  She could not summon words. She merely quivered as she nodded, the reality of her home and its destruction slowly crushing her heart.

  The man led her away from the annihilated city. It was as he had said, that a group of merfolk had gathered at the edge of a nearby reef—entire families, with mothers hugging their children, fathers embracing the mothers, their own tears apparent, and other little children sobbing with no parent to hold them, perhaps murdered in the purging of the once-magnificent city. So many refugees, perhaps a hundred in all—

  Yet, it held not a bubble to the entire populace, gone in a bloodstained morning. Tallora spotted Queen Fauln and the two princesses at the center, perhaps the cause for order among the group. Relief washed over her. Kal’s family was safe.

  Yet what of her own? She saw no mirrors to herself, no graying hair with pink-sheened scales. “Is this everyone?” she asked the man.

  “All that we’ve found. There are other scouts searching the area.”

  She nodded, though her heart ached. “Thank you,” she said, and she swam into the crowd, passing broken people, many tending to wounded folk whose blood seeped into the open sea. Some followed with their eyes, recognition in a few as they muttered her title—The Great Survivor.

  Well, she had survived this too, though she had only witnessed the end.

  The queen was surrounded by a small ensemble, to whom she spoke frantically, and Tallora overheard practical terms such as, “food,” and, “shelter,” and, “if we stay here and the creature rises, we’ll be next.”

  She caught the queen’s eye, however, and the monarch gasped and beckoned her forward. “You met with Solvira. What happened?”

  “Queen Fauln, your husband and son are alive,” Tallora said, lest the queen panic.

  Relief settle upon the queen’s face, and perhaps it was only years spent as a monarch that stopped her from bursting into sobs. “Thank Tortalga,” Fauln said, and behind her, one of her daughters cried, with the other to consul her. “Where are they?”

  Tallora clenched her fist, the pain of betrayal still lacerating her heart, even among the tragedy. “Solvira . . .” Emotion choked her throat as she recalled the bloodthirsty crowd, the murdered men. “Solvira betrayed us. They’ve taken your husband and Kal hostage. They aren’t to be harmed, but—”

  Her words cut off when the queen’s expression darkened, her regal gaze spelling murder. “What?”

  “They won’t be harmed unless the Tortalgan Sea joins Moratham in the fight against Solvira. But Empress Dauriel lied to us—she slew the Speaker and the rest of his entourage.”

  “Did you not swear that Solvira’s intentions were noble?” Queen Fauln said, pointed in her glare. Shame welled in Tallora’s stomach, rising and threatening to suffocate her. “Did you not swear that Empress Dauriel, who captured you from your homeland, meant us no harm? I begged my husband not to go, but he felt pride at Kal’s ambition. He fell for the empress’ charade. I should have known you were behind it all.”

  Tallora shrunk, barely composed at the brutal words. “We were all deceived, your majesty.”

  “There are bigger problems than your betrayal to the crown. Keep your head down, lest I banish you from this party.”

  Then, the queen swam upward, above the small populace of people. “Everyone, listen! We shall be leaving a few scouts here to find survivors, but the rest of us will be traveling to the village of Iids, only a few hours away.” Iids, like all the other villages surrounding Stelune, was but a planet to the sun in size, but perhaps it could provide for them. “Begin moving out! Any unsupervised children need a companion—do your part and help out.”

  The crowd stirred, like some giant awoken from sleep, slow as it roused its traumatized inhabitants. Tallora turned away from the queen, her heart torn between two terrible truths—that she was responsible for Kal and King Merl’s capture, yet perhaps it might’ve been what saved their lives.

  So few remained. Yet more still appeared, as told by three more merfolk approaching the crowd from beyond. She had yet to see her mother; perhaps she lived. Swallowing tears, Tallora clung to that hope, lest she face the reality of losing everything—her momma, her dearest friend, and . . .

  The memory of Dauriel’s tearful words tore at her heart. Tallora knew she should hate her; the anguish of her love’s betrayal pulsed like fire through her blood. Instead, she mourned the life they couldn’t live. They had disrupted fate to have even met, and the world hadn’t been meant for them. Yes, she was angry, but Tallora loved her, loved her so. Anger could exist with love.

  But she would never see her again; it was the only path ahead.

  The crowd moved, and Tallora looked around her, noticing a pair of children, perhaps seven years old each, clinging to each other, watching the crowd with fearful eyes. Their hair bore similar shades of purple and burgundy, and each of them, both little girls, cast their eyes onto Tallora as she approached. “Come on,” she said, lip trembling, but she was hardly the only one who’d lost something dear this day. So she forced a smile, watched the girls’ faces soften as one took her hand, the other content to clutch who Tallora presumed was her sister.

  They said nothing, for there was nothing to say. But whatever Tallora’s failures, whatever her turmoil, there was a greater work to be done. Behind her eyelids, Tallora saw tentacles searching for her in the dark, saw that great eye glowing in sickly shades of yellow, but she pushed that away, vowing instead to lead these two wards to safety.

  * * *

  Iids held little grandeur.

  Queen Fauln had sent a few able-bodied scouts ahead, so a small welcome party greeted them. “We’ve scavenged what accommodations we could,” said an aging man. “We will at least have passable sleeping arrangements for everyone. We can discuss further plans tonight, your majesty.”

  Tallora held to her wards as they were escorted through a tiny village. The stone buildings were not stacked as they were in the once massive city, but spread wide near the ground. Tallora saw structured nets of fish being tended to, as well as fields of seaweed in the distance. Stelune relied on the farming villages to survive, paying them handsomely for wares—Tallora knew this, having spent a lifetime watching her mother run a shop.

  Orders were shouted. Tallora listened as it was announced that the courthouse had been cleared to house refugees for the night, and that the populace had volunteered to take in any orphans in the meantime. Food awaited them. Tallora’s heart bled at the kindness.

  She watched Queen Fauln’s eyes tear up with every word, and though they stood at odds, Tallora found her humility inspiring. These people offered all they had—and not for fear of reprimand, no, but because they sought to help their queen and the residents of the capital city.

  Tallora wondered what Solvira would say, if Solvirans would do as much for their empress. Her own tears threatened to fall when the girls she’d escorted were welcomed into a
family with three other children of their own, but not without a shy hug goodbye from one burgundy-haired girl. Tallora held her tight, savoring the innocent touch, knowing they both needed the embrace.

  Tallora followed with the rest to the great hall of stone, built into a sea of coral. She marveled at the colors, the natural beauty of the place lovingly combined with innovation. But as Tallora lined up to receive her dinner, her name was called, “Tallora?”

  She turned, her soul longing for any familiarity, but to her surprise, it was Fauln. The queen beckoned for her, and though confusion slowed her movements, she approached. “Yes, your majesty?”

  “You’ll be taking dinner with my family and the magistrate of Iids. Come.”

  Tallora followed the regal woman, who wore no finery but her small crown. Her hair bore the same shades of blue as Kal, and Tallora’s heart hurt at the reminder of the dear friend she’d lost.

  They swam to an isolated room, wherein dinner had already been served—the same food, the same portions as the rest. The presumed magistrate smiled at their entrance, and Tallora recognized him as the one who had met them at the city gates. Queen Fauln’s daughters already sat at the table, looking exhausted but otherwise healthy.

  There were a few others as well—men and women bearing the same sad smiles. “Tallora,” the magistrate said, “my name is Gregor. Please have a seat.” She did, watching as the rest followed. He took his own seat at the front, no food before him. “Queen Fauln says you know the fate of our king.”

  Tallora nodded, sparing a glance for the queen. She looked to her daughters, both of whom appeared despondent at the words. They knew too, it seemed. “I saw it for myself,” she said slowly, praying this was not some sort of test. “They are alive and will remain so, but they’re held captive. Solvira killed the Morathan envoy and kidnapped our rulers during what was supposed to be a peace summit.”