The Mariner

Finally Absinth turned his attention to the Mariner. “Listen Cuntface,” he sneered. “This place is crawling with Mindless. We’ve had to shoot quite a few so far, you may have noticed their bodies as we climbed.” The Mariner hadn’t, he’d been thinking about wine. “They’ve killed a few of my friends, and we’re not happy about that.”

“It was fucking disgusting,” said Henry. “Smashed Dee’s head open with a rock and then smeared her brains over his face like it was a cream or somethin’.”

Absinth didn’t break his gaze from the Mariner. “Also, we lost quite a few to that coral down there. Nasty stuff. But I see you profited from our sacrifice. We don’t mind that do we lads? What we do mind though, is you keeping any secrets. So I’ll ask you, what do you know about this place? What do you know about that tent?”

The Mariner realized why he was alive. They didn’t like him and didn’t need him, but they were afraid.

“This is where the answers are. The truth. The lost pieces of our world.”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He could reply with complete honesty. “I don’t know. Why did you come here?”

Absinth didn’t bother to answer, instead he turned his basset eyes towards the tent, its dark opening alluring and repellent in equal measure. “Get in there Dan, we’ll follow. Cuntface can come in last with me.”

More akin to a Bedouin canopy, the tent straddled the clearing, overlooking the bay. Bright colours and exotic patterns decorated the canopy. Fantastical beasts reared with menace, noble steeds galloped with pride, lands rose and fell across the wide tapestry. Told along its soft canvass was a whole multitude of stories; each creature and scene blended into the other, as if the embroider had no attention span and was constantly changing the subject of her art.

Dan moved the cloth aside, and stepped through. They heard a woman’s voice, full of authority yet smooth and alluring. “Come inside Daniel Hughes, I am pleased you could come.”

The rest of the group followed. Each entered, one after the other, until only Absinth and the Mariner remained.

“After you, Cuntface,” Absinth said, jabbing the Mariner in the back with his rifle. The Mariner stepped inside.

The interior was just as exotically decorated, although now the images were less concerned with mythical beasts, but mythical people, heroes, lords, angels, villains and lovers. Kind brows, heroic jaws, roguish noses, sinister ears, all on a thousand faces. Every story of man was told, swirling about them. On the floor were countless cushions and in the centre sat the Oracle.

Her skin was dark and studded with jewels. Ribbons were entwined about her long black hair that pooled around her waist whilst she sat, cross legged, as if ready for meditation. Dan was already crouching before her, like a pupil ready to receive instruction.

“Welcome Henry Farthing who used to play with his brother by the canal. Welcome Jessica Wilson who studied tourism in Kent. Welcome Ken Wendell who used to steal cars with the Alsop twins.” She spoke to each person as they entered, and in sequence they all opened their eyes in surprise, silently sitting before her in awe. The Oracle spoke to each in a calm eloquent manner, which only changed when she laid eyes on the Mariner.

“Welcome Cun—” she paused, cocked her head to one side, and then quickly looked away. “Welcome Absinth Alcott.” She didn’t bother with an additional description for him, but instead turned her attention back to the Mariner, eyeing him with suspicion.

“Is it true? Are you the Oracle?” Dan asked, staring at her as a child does a clown.

“Yes. I am The Oracle.”

“Why should we believe you?” snorted Absinth, his gruff voice hacking apart the silky texture in the air. “We’ll ask questions and let’s see if you can answer ‘em.”

She looked at him patiently and shook her head.

“You may not question me… yet. But I shall prove to you my power.”

She smiled at the group and each stared longingly at her, lost in her charm and strange beauty. Turning to Dan, she held his gaze, their eyes locked and unblinking.

“Hayley, an intimacy of yours?”

“I dated her for a couple of years…” he said, still staring into her eyes.

“She left you for your cousin.”

“Son of a bitch!” he cried out, furious and embarrassed. He looked at the rest of the group, his face flushed red. “I think she’s right. I mean… I don’t know if Hayley did, but it makes sense. Both of them did hang around a lot together, and right after she split with me, he and I stopped talking. I guess that’s the reason he was avoiding me. Fucker!” He whirled back to her. “How did you know?”

“I know everything.”

“How do we know this isn’t some cheap parlour trick?” Absinth was still not convinced. “You could be reading his mind or somethin’.”

“Wouldn’t that still be remarkable?” She flashed him a daring smile. The loaded grin of a croupier.

“It wouldn’t make you an oracle.”