The Emerald Scepter soa-3

by Thomas M. Reid

  The water was clear and blue, and the floor of the Reach was shallow, luxuriously covered in smooth sand. Coral groves formed arches and tunnels and made homes for exotic fish. Vambran had often watched such wondrous color pass beneath a ship in calm, clear waters, but he had never imagined the beauty of it from an undersea perspective. He watched a school of bright orange fish scatter as he and Arbeenok darted by.

  Vambran found that he could indicate a direction to Arbeenok by gently pulling back with one hand or the other against the shoulders of the druid's wings. By giving such guidance, the mercenary was able to show Arbeenok that he wanted to move among some of the coral and see the abundance of sea life before going deeper into the water.

  The remains of a ship came into view, and for a brief moment, Vambran wondered if it was Lady's Favor, but he dismissed the thought, for the wreck was older, smaller, and more intact. It had settled on its side upon a large expanse of red coral reef, and the abundant sea life had begun to cover its surfaces. Vambran wanted to sweep near the wreck for a closer look, but he sensed Arbeenok hesitate. When a large shark swam out of a hole in the side of the downed craft and began prowling close to them, Vambran was fully in favor of heading the other direction.

  After getting over his initial sense of wonder, Vambran nudged Arbeenok further out from the shore, toward deeper waters. The floor of the Reach in that area remained shallow for several hundred paces, declining at a steady if gradual angle, but before long, the two searchers came to a notable boundary where the sea floor plunged rapidly downward to greater depths.

  At first, Arbeenok chose to glide parallel to the edge of that steep slope rather than taking the plunge into its depths, for the light was dimmer there and large forests of long, twisted plants grew upward from the sandy floor, suitable hiding places for who-knew-what. Vambran was content to let the druid choose their route, for though he had taken great delight in drifting through the multicolored, brightly lit world of the shallows, he was more than a little apprehensive about descending into the gloom. The memory of the kraken was still too fresh in his mind.

  Banishing their reluctance, the pair turned and began to drift downward, following the ocean floor as its rock-strewn incline dropped beneath them. Vambran was torn between having Arbeenok glide close to the top of the plant-forest so that they could dart in if a threat appeared, or nudging the druid to steer clear of the lush growth and evade whatever might be hiding inside. He chose to guide Arbeenok on a route near enough to make a sudden dive but not so near that they wouldn't have a chance to react to surprises rising from below.

  Vambran considered again the notion that he had no idea what they were looking for-merely underwater ruins-and he wondered if any parts of ancient Jhaamdath still protruded above the sediment of so many centuries. The histories told him a great tidal wave had washed the Twelve Cities of Swords off the land and out into the sea, a magical scouring brought by the elves in retribution for unchecked logging of the Chondalwood. He couldn't imagine what might have survived such a catastrophe, for the wave was said to be a mile high.

  Such force would surely have dragged hills and mountains down with it, he thought. Jhaamdath is probably buried down there, out of reach.

  Just when the lieutenant was beginning to feel despair and wondering if they shouldn't return to shore to rethink their efforts, a figure darted toward him, whose movement he caught out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly, more figures were all around them, darting toward them as though to surround them, and he felt Arbeenok shudder with concern and begin banking to retreat. He crouched low against the druid's body, trying to reduce water resistance so they could swim faster.

  But the creatures were too quick. Vambran fumbled for his sword, wondering how well he could swing it through water, when he realized he had seen the creatures' likes before. Blue-skinned and naked, the figures swimming toward him were remarkably similar to elves in appearance, though their hands and feet were webbed. As the sea elves swam around, large, friendly eyes regarded both Vambran and Arbeenok, smiling and reaching out gently to touch the two of them.

  A female with short bluish hair, bedecked in shell bracelets and necklaces, swam right up to Vambran. Though he couldn't be certain, he thought it might have been the same member of the species he had encountered before, when Lady's Favor had sunk and he had nearly drowned while dueling the kraken. She smiled at him, those beautiful turquoise eyes with their gold flecks were unmistakable. She swam up next to the lieutenant and wrapped her arms about his head, embracing him and offering him a soft kiss. He didn't fight it. When she pulled away, he thought she might have giggled, though the sound was odd and distorted in the water.

  The sea elf maiden rolled over once and regarded him as she paddled backward, and Vambran wondered if he was blushing at the sight of her unclothed, but then she motioned for them to follow her and spun around and darted away. Vambran shrugged and nudged Arbeenok to follow.

  Around Vambran and Arbeenok, other sea elves swam in a sort of escort formation, maintaining a distance on every side as well as above and below the pair. As a group, they all followed the female downward, toward a jagged chasm that gashed the side of the sloping ocean floor at an angle. When the sea elf guide darted into the chasm and began descending even faster, Vambran fought a brief sense of panic. It was growing ever darker, and he was beginning to feel the effects of the water pressure on his body. But then the sea elf vanished from view, darting into what must have been a cave. Arbeenok followed, not needing Vambran's guidance to understand where they were expected to go.

  The mouth of the cave was large and dark, but the mercenary noted a faint glow from its depths, as the druid obviously did, for he rippled his wings and followed the light source. Vambran hoped he was not misplacing his trust in their guide, but something told him their actions were right.

  The cave continued for quite a distance. The light turned out to be glowing coral positioned at intervals on the walls of the tunnel. After several twists and turns in the passage, the cave angled upward, and Vambran could see brighter light ahead.

  The water there had a surface, and the mercenary's head broke through as Arbeenok glided up to it. They were in a large chamber with a cavernous roof high overhead. The whole of the place was lit with more of the glowing coral, but brighter lights were also placed along one side of the cavern. Vambran noticed a sort of rocky beach, and the sea elf was sitting there, out of the water, watching him with a bemused smile on her face.

  He and Arbeenok drifted toward her until the water was too shallow for the druid to swim any closer. Vambran climbed off his friend and stood up, letting the water cascade off him. Beside Vambran, Arbeenok stood up, transformed back into his natural shape.

  "Hello, land-walker," the sea elf said in a somewhat odd accent, but in a voice that was just as sweet as any land elf's. "We've been expecting you."

  CHAPTER 10

  As Pilos felt himself lose his balance and fall backward, he clutched at Edilus, whose sudden lunge had toppled the two of them together. But the druid's calm gaze did not waver, and as they began to plummet, Edilus shifted shape again, transforming into an eagle right before the priest's eyes. As the druid's hands became wings and his feet talons, he clutched at Pilos and began to beat his wings furiously. Their fall did not abate much at first, but Pilos could feel the power in Edilus's effort, and though the druid was not strong enough to hold his companion aloft, he managed to slow their fall enough so that the impact at the bottom would be less deadly. At the last moment, Edilus pulled up and released Pilos, letting him tumble to the cobblestones. Then he flew off, soaring over the landscape, leaving the priest and the other mercenaries behind.

  Someone grabbed Pilos by the back of his tunic and helped him to his feet, guiding him along, running, stumbling, away from the wall. He looked back once and saw Generon guards, their uniforms stark white in the early morning glow of day, pursuing them. He also spotted the crumpled bodies of Quill and Laithe at the base of the
wall, lying still. He wondered if either of them had survived, but there was no time to go back and check.

  He realized that he did not see Grolo's form still lying in the street, and he looked up in time to see Adyan struggling to carry the dwarf into an alley. As soon as Pilos was able to sprint on his own, Horial released him and ran faster to catch up with his companion, sharing the burden of the wounded sergeant.

  In the alley, Horial and Adyan led the young priest through several twisting turns between buildings, stopping at a court filled with crates, refuse, and rickety stairs leading to second-floor wooden landings.

  "In here," Horial said over his shoulder, helping Adyan carry Grolo down into a cellar. Pilos followed the two men and turned to pull the door shut behind him. At the last moment, the eagle swooped in, and Pilos had to hold the portal open a moment longer. Once Edilus was inside, Pilos let the door swing shut, leaving him in near-darkness, and shifted a latch to lock it. Then he turned back to see where they had taken refuge.

  Horial held a single lit candle and was looking over Adyan's shoulder. "Is he still alive?" the man asked as Adyan checked the dwarf's vital signs. After a moment, the mercenary nodded, but his face was grim. "Not for long, though, if we don't get him some help. Do you have any healing draughts left?" he asked.

  Horial shook his head. "No, I used the last of mine back in the woods when we ran into those snakes. Edilus patched me up before, after the fight at the portal. How about it, druid, do you still have some healing magic?"

  The man in eagle form cocked his head to one side and stared at the mercenary, then shook it in a clear indication of a negative answer.

  Pilos moved over to the wounded and dying dwarf. "I can still conjure a minor spell or two," he said, "but it probably won't be effective enough to rouse him. Just enough to keep him from dying."

  "Do it," Horial said, moving over to give the Abreeant space.

  Pilos didn't waste any time. Placing his hands around the bolt shaft, he felt the wound pulsing weakly. Closing his eyes, he pleaded with Waukeen to grant the dwarf who had aided them a little more time, and when he yanked the bolt free, he let healing magic flow forth into the gaping hole left behind.

  Grolo twitched but did not move otherwise.

  Pilos drew a deep breath and performed the magic one more time. It was his last spell, a minor orison that would do little more than stop the bleeding and help Grolo rest. When he was finished, he could hear that the dwarf was breathing a little better, a little stronger.

  "That's it," he said, wiping his bloody hands on the dwarf's tunic. "That's all I have left. I hope it's enough."

  Place me on his hand, Hetta said, startling the priest.

  The Abreeant took the ring from his pocket and slipped it onto Grolo's smallest finger. It barely fit over the end, but Pilos could wiggle it into place. A little more color returned to the dwarf's face and his breathing sounded calmer, more restful.

  "What was that for?" Horial asked, eyeing the ring as Pilos put it into his pocket.

  "She seems to be able to pass some of her energy to others when they need it," he answered, not sure he understood it himself. "I just did what she told me."

  Horial nodded, a satisfied look on his face. "Well, that will keep him alive for the time being. But now we've got to figure out how to get out of here without drawing attention to ourselves. The Generon guards are probably swarming the streets already, looking for us."

  "They're looking for me and Quill," Pilos said. "But the two of you and Edilus might be able to get out without being noticed. I could stay here with Grolo while you go for help."

  Horial shook his head. "No, I appreciate your offer, lad, but I'll bet those guards got a good description from Junce. They know we're with you, and besides, I don't want to leave you here alone. We'll figure out something else."

  Pilos turned to Edilus, who hadn't transformed back into his human shape yet. "Are you waiting to change back because you have something in mind?" he asked the druid.

  The eagle's head bobbed up and down.

  "Are we supposed to guess what it is?" Horial asked somewhat wryly.

  Again the nod.

  "All right," Pilos said, finding the little game challenging. "If he's in bird form, what's the benefit?"

  "Well, no one has to smell him," Adyan said, smirking.

  That elicited a sharp squawk from Edilus.

  Pilos shook his head, impatient. "Seriously, what do we gain? The ability to fly? Only for him-he can't carry one of us with him, we know that. But he could slip through the lines of soldiers searching for us, make his way to bring back help."

  "Except that he has no idea where he's going, or whom to trust," Horial said. "But what if he scouted ahead for us? Checked to find the best way to travel to avoid notice, and when to duck out of sight when trouble was coming? Is that what you're thinking, druid?"

  Edilus bobbed his head up and down rapidly.

  Horial stroked his chin, considering. "It's worth a try," he said.

  "It's either that or we sit here and wait," Adyan said, "and I don't like the odds of that working out."

  "Me, neither," Horial replied. "All right, let's try it. We'll give a peek outside, and if there's no one about, you can fly out of here, do a quick reconnoiter, and come back to let us know. Since you can't communicate, we'll have to use some signals so we understand."

  After a few moments spent perfecting a series of beak jabs and directional flying, the group was ready. Pilos pulled back the latch and peeked into the alley. No one was in sight. He opened the door enough to let Edilus hop out and lift off, then watched the transformed druid glide toward the exit of the dead end where they had chosen to hide. He pulled the door to the cellar nearly shut again and watched for Edilus's return.

  While they waited, they debated which direction they should travel to seek help. Adyan and Horial wanted to get to their barracks at the temple, for they felt they would find shelter and acceptance there, but the temple lay a long way across Arrabar from the Generon, especially for a group on foot with an unconscious companion. Pilos suggested his own house, but the mercenaries thought that seemed a risky neighborhood for a group carrying a body.

  Finally, they settled on a market nearby where they could beg, borrow, or steal a cart in which to hide Grolo while they transported him. They left the debate of who would be the driver for later. They did agree that they would be better off not wearing their uniforms, so they all stripped off their telltale clothing and dumped it in a corner. Pilos was saddened to leave behind his gold circlet of office, which symbolized his position as Abreeant, but he understood the sacrifice.

  Edilus returned and signaled to the men that the way was clear. They gathered up Grolo and trundled into the alley, cautious but confident as they moved toward the egress. At the first corner, they waited until the druid signaled, then darted across the road to the other side, into another alley. They made their way easily at first then nearly ran into trouble, for the far end of the next alley had become a station for Generon guardsmen to congregate and share news of their manhunt. The mercenaries had to retreat and hide behind crates while figuring out what to do next. Eventually, the guards seemed to lose interest in the spot and moved on.

  At last, after considerable sneaking and watching, the group made its way into the marketplace. While Adyan hid with Grolo in a rundown lean-to near the edge of the market, the other two found a wagon owned by a man selling clay urns, and after some haggling, they managed to purchase the entire affair-wagon, donkey, urns, and all. Pilos doled out a number of gold coins, sparing a scathing look to Horial as he did so. When the man had been paid, they took the wagon back to Adyan's hiding place, unloaded enough urns to make space for Grolo, then covered him with blankets they purchased from another nearby vendor.

  At last, they began moving out of the market, trying to look like common laborers with a cart of goods to be sold. Edilus remained an eagle, scouting ahead, though as more and more people rose for the d
ay, the looping and circling eagle began drawing unwanted attention. Finally, Horial convinced the druid to find a secluded spot and remain inconspicuous, but keep the guise of an eagle.

  The men walked together, talking casually, watching all around for any sign that they had been recognized and were being pursued. The farther they got from the Generon, the more Pilos began to relax. He had convinced the others to return with him to House Darowdryn, because he knew for certain they would be received without question there. He also wanted to let his family know that he was alive and well, but that Emriana had been caught and was missing. He finally sold Horial on the plan by telling the man that Lavant might have turned the entire temple against anyone known to have consorted with House Matrell.

  "All right," the mercenary said at last, "you win. I just hope they'll let riffraff like us traverse the streets of your neighborhood."

  The group of fugitives worked its way into the upscale neighborhood of the merchant villas, and Pilos knew that just a few more streets over, they would arrive in the wealthy section of town. He was beginning to feel good about the situation, and even considered what he should do next, when a strange noise caught his attention from the side of the street.

  The young priest turned his head to peer in the direction of the sound and spied a face peeking out from behind a canopied store window.

  "Emriana?" he asked, not believing his eyes.

  "We have been watching the coastlines of your land ever since we received the portent that we would be needed," Serille the sea elf maiden said, leading Vambran and Arbeenok up the rocky slope of the cave floor to a brightly lit area. "Deep Sashelas spoke to us and said that a human known to us by family and marked thrice would appear in the sea during a great battle, and that this human would seek powerful history."