“Hoy,” the herdsman murmured, mimicking a favorite exclamation of his friend. “We had our rescue.” Turning back to the water, he nodded to the southwest. “Now comes the reckoning.”
It arrived with ten immense arms each weighing a ton or more. Pale pink in color, the benthic colossus had surfaced less than a mile from the ship. Now it moved effortlessly closer, making a mockery of the desperate Priget’s attempt to steer clear of its cylindrical bulk. A few crabs and barnacles clung to its smooth flanks, while scars revealed the history of titanic battles with sperm whales that had taken place in the depths of the ocean.
In an instant Stanager was beside Ehomba, even as she was beside herself. She could only stare in alarm and astonishment at the abyssal apparition that was making a leisurely approach to her ship. What else could one do when confronted by the sight and reality of the Kraken?
“That is what was at the other end of the hundred million crabs,” the herdsman informed her quietly. “That is the only creature strong enough to both grip and anchor them.”
“But—what does it want? The crabs have gone, scattered back to their homes.”
“They were commanded. This is no crab, and would have to have been asked. I do not know what it wants, but whatever that may be, we had better hope we can supply it. The elders of my village have spoken many times of the Kraken, and I do not recall them commending it for its placid nature.” He tried to inject an optimistic note into the litany. “They are a diverse family. Hopefully this one will be amenable to reason.”