Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles

by Sullivan, Stephen D (v1. 1)

  “I know you can do whatever you want to do,” Ula said.

  Shimanloreth shook his armored head. “No,” he said. “Whatever we had together ended when you left Reeftown.”

  “Not by my choice alone,” she replied. “Let me out. Unless, you’d like to see me dead by Lakuda’s hand. Or,” she added, nodding to her cellmates, “by one of my fellow prisoners.”

  “You have made your own fate,” he said defiantly, “not I.” Then he turned and walked out of the room.

  “Lakuda will kill me!” Ula called after him. “You know that.” She sat down on a chair made out of carved coral and cursed.

  Karista Meinor crossed her arms over her chest and smiled in satisfaction. “You have a talent for making enemies, it seems, my ill-omened friend” she said.

  “Don’t flatter yourself that you’re in the same league as Lakuda,” Ula shot back.

  “All right, you two,” Mik said. “We’re all in this together, and we need to work together if we’re to have any chance of getting out.”

  “Why should I want to get out?” Karista asked. “My ransom will surely be paid. Escaping seems like a foolish risk.”

  “Hah! Let’s hope there is no haggling over the price. Otherwise, Lakuda will cut your wrists and leave you for the sharks,” Ula replied. “My likely end as well.”

  “Our mutual fate, I fear,” Mik said soberly.

  “Certainly not as interesting as being eaten by a dragon,” Trip added forlornly.

  “Were there any other survivors?” Mik asked the two women.

  Both Ula and Karista shook their heads. “I doubt it,” the aristocrat replied. “I didn’t see any on the surface before ... before the ship dragged me under. If Lakuda’s people hadn’t found me, I would have drowned.” She glared at Trip again, who shrugged.

  Mik sighed. “Litde chance we’ll be rescued or ransomed,” he said. “So we’ll just have to get out of this fix on our own.”

  He seated himself on one of the room’s seashell-like chairs and rested his bearded chin on his hands. Trip plopped down beside him, and Ula pulled her chair in closer. Karista paced the room, running her long fingers over several potted plants that looked like stiff seaweed.

  “What can you tell me about the guards?” Mik asked Ula.

  “They’re as good as Lakuda’s rabble comes,” she replied. “We wouldn’t want to fight them without weapons—not in the water, anyway.”

  “And this Shimanloreth?”

  “You don’t want to tackle him,” Ula said.

  “I’ve never seen a knight underwater before,” Trip said.

  “And aren’t likely to see one again,” Ula replied.

  Mik nodded grimly. “Maybe you can sway him to our side.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Ula said.

  Mik rose and walked to the room’s sole window—round like a porthole and about the size of a ship’s wheel—and peered out into the deep. The sun had long since set, but many small life forms, like undersea fireflies, twinkled in the darkness. In their flickering glow and the light from the town’s windows, sea elves swam about their business.

  “I will not participate in any plan to escape,” Karista said stubbornly. “We are lucky to be alive. We’ve had enough trouble already—and this Lakuda woman seems nearly as ruthless as the dragon. Do whatever you like, but I will stay here.”

  “Suits me,” said Mik. “Trip, I’m guessing Shimmer didn’t search you well enough.”

  “No one ever does,” the kender replied with a shrug, pulling another small piece of magical seaweed from an inside vest pocket. “I’ve got this, plus the wad you gave back to me.”

  Ula smiled. “Shimmer isn’t very familiar with kender.”

  “Lucky him,” muttered Karista.

  “With three of us able to breathe underwater,” Mik said, “perhaps we could take those guards by surprise.”

  Shimmer swam impatiently around Lakuda’s audience chamber. Occasionally, he dipped down to the pile of loot waiting to be divided and ran his orange eyes over it. How much was it worth, this pile of treasure? Was it worth Ula Drakenvaal’s life?

  Lakuda’s guards paid little attention to the bronze knight They adjusted their grips on their tridents and pointedly looked the other way as Shimmer circled the big booty-filled shell tethered in the middle of the room. The guards knew his relationship to their mistress, and—even had they not—none would have dared to cross him anyway.

  Several long minutes later, a circular side door to the chamber irised open, and Townboss Lakuda drifted in. Her green hair had been undone and trailed behind her like a long seaweed cape. In her left hand she held a stoppered flask of azure wine. In her right she carried the large shell of a half-eaten oyster. Her black eyes gleamed when she spotted Shimmer. “Will you join me in a drink?”

  “No,” Shimanloreth replied.

  “Rest beside me,” Lakuda said, gliding into her golden throne and holding out one thin-fingered hand.

  Shimmer didn’t look at her but kept gazing at the treasure-filled shell. “I was wondering if my share of today’s forage would cover the Drakenvaal’s ransom,” he said.

  Lakuda’s black eyes narrowed. “So,” she said. “I knew you’d take an interest in her capture. You really shouldn’t concern yourself, though. She lost all interest in you long ago.”

  “I know that.” -

  “And still your feelings for her persist,” Lakuda said sarcastically. “She’s beneath you, you know.”

  “Some would say,” Shimmer replied, his tone careful and measured, “thatyou are as well.”

  Lakuda laughed, her raspy voice echoing around the chamber. “A cut well placed! I won’t hold it against you though—so long as you join me in a drink.”

  She dropped the empty oyster shell and unstoppered the wine. The shell drifted slowly down, but a servant appeared and scooped it up before it hit the chamber floor. The servant darted back out the door she’d entered through.

  A small blue cloud formed above Lakuda’s unstoppered flask. The mistress of Reeftown took a drink and then closed the top with her fingertip. “Well?” she asked.

  Shimmer nodded slowly.

  “I will drink with you,” he said.

  Without warning, the room shook. The water in the chamber quivered and Lakuda had to grab hold of her golden netting to steady herself. The guards looked around apprehensively, and even Shimmer adjusted his balance. Cloudy streamers of sand drifted down from the ceiling. A faint rumbling echoed through the room.

  “What was that?” one of the guards asked nervously.

  “Seaquake?” suggested another.

  “Don’t just float there, fools,” Lakuda snarled. “Go find out” ♦ * * + *

  Karista staggered, but Mik caught her before she fell. Ula jumped out of the way as a big piece of coral plummeted from the ceiling and smashed a driftwood table near one wall of the room. Trickles of sand drifted down from the ceiling.

  “What was that?” Trip asked, rising and dusting himself off.

  Mik walked to the window and peered out into the darkness. For a moment, he saw nothing. Then, swift shadows began to dart through the dim light surrounding the city. Giant razorfish, he realized, and sharks.

  “Mik,” Trip said, “I think we’ve sprung a leak.” He held his small hand out under a trickle of water dripping from the ceiling.

  The words barely registered on the sailor’s mind. There, at the edge of the flickering city lights, he saw something that made his blood run cold.

  Mik’s mouth dropped open and he whispered, “The dragon!”

  Fifteen

  No Way Out

  A mixture of anger and fear flashed across Lakuda’s gaunt face. “Tempest!” she gasped. Then her eyes narrowed. “It’s that accursed Drakenvaal!” she hissed. “Isn’t it?”

  “Absurd,” Shimmer countered.

  “Well . . . she’s been known to associate with dragons before!”

  Shimmer said nothing, but his o
rangish eyes flared with anger.

  Lakuda’s angular face softened. “I meant no offense,” she said. “Your choice of... friends is your own, of course.” Shimmer nodded slowly.

  “Well?” Lakuda said, swimming to the exit of the throne room, “Are you coming?”

  “I think,” Shimmer said, “that I shall stay here and contemplate your words.”

  Lakuda’s dark eyes narrowed and her lean jaw trembled. “This is no time to be petulant.”

  Another tremor shook the reef-villa. Pieces of coral drifted down from the hall ceiling, and a small pillar supporting a window arch crumbled.

  “Suit yourself,” Lakuda growled. “With the dragon loose, I must tend to business. We’ll have that drink later, and forget our differences?”

  “Yes,” Shimmer replied. “Perhaps.”

  Lakuda frowned at him, then turned and swam out of the room, taking the guards with her.

  Shimanloreth stood alone in the room, thinking.

  * * * *

  “Give me some of that seaweed,” Karista said, reaching toward Trip. “After all, it’s mine.”

  The kender handed her some; he’d already doled out other bits to himself and Kingfisher's former captain.

  “A moment ago, you had no intention of escaping,” Ula said slyly.

  “A moment ago, we weren’t in danger of drowning,” Karista replied. She sloshed around in the rising waters of their prison chamber.

  “We’d welcome any other aids you might have for the occasion,” Mik said.

  “I’ve nothing to weave spells with here,” Karista replied. “It all went down with the ship. And, even if it hadn’t, with the gods so long departed, my powers are next to nothing.” She stuffed the magical seaweed into her cheek and glared at them.

  “Maybe you’ll assist us in overpowering the guards, then,” Mik replied.

  “If I must,” she said.

  Ula laughed.

  The chamber shuddered again, and another leak sprang up.

  Mik glanced out the window. Flashes like lightning in the darkness silhouetted a terrible battle between Reeftown’s sea elves and Tempest’s forces.

  As Mik watched, a horrible visage appeared at the porthole. It was neither human nor elf. Blotchy scales covered its terrifying countenance. Its mouth was like a sucker ringed with sharp teeth. Its eyes glowed red. Small Turbidus leeches clung to its skin. The creature pressed its face against the glass of the porthole and leered at the captives inside.

  Mik jumped back as the thing raised its clawed hand and pounded against the glass. Trip gasped and Karista squawked in surprise. The scaly fist smashed into the window, but the thick glass held firm.

  “Time to go,” Ula said.

  “Agreed,” said Mik.

  All four captives splashed back down the passageway to where they’d first entered their prison. The corridor was partially submerged, but they found a dry ledge near the pool.

  They all paused there, peering into the rising water.

  “I can’t see any of the guards,” Mik said.

  “They’re probably just down the tunnel, out of sight,” Ula replied.

  “Any idea which way we should go if we get past them?” Mik asked.

  “Follow me,” Ula said. “I’ll improvise.”

  The corridor shook, and another piece of coral fell from the arched ceiling. The water grew higher around them, nearly reaching the top of the small ledge they stood on.

  “Let’s go,” Mik said. Ula dived into the water, and he jumped in right after her. Trip and Karista followed.

  It took a moment for Mik’s eyes to adjust to the gloomy waters. The magic of the seaweed wasn’t as potent as that of his necklace. The air didn’t smell so sweet, and he felt vaguely nauseous.

  Ula streaked ahead as the guards turned to face them. Luckily, there were only two—the others having been called away to help fight the dragon. Ula ducked aside as the first man thrust his spear at her. The sea elf moved as swifdy as a barracuda and as gracefully as a dolphin. She clouted the guard on the back of the neck with the flat of her hand, and the sentry stumbled forward.

  Mik grabbed the haft of the man’s spear. He wrested the weapon from the sentry’s grip and elbowed the man in the face. The guardsman went down.

  The sailor swam forward as Ula struggled with the second guard. It was all Ula could do to avoid being skewered by his spear. As it was, the weapon’s blade traced a long scratch up her side, cutting free a piece of her already scanty outfit.

  Ula cursed and wrestled with the guard as Mik bore in. The guard ducked under the sailor’s thrust, but Mik had expected that. He wheeled the spear in his hands and smashed the haft into the man’s back.

  The sentry grunted in pain. Ula clouted him on the jaw, and his head snapped back. The group quickly pulled the stunned guards up the corridor into the rapidly filling air pocket near the cell.

  Trip and Karista confiscated the sentries’ other weapons as Ula and Mik hefted their “borrowed” spears.

  “Leave their daggers,” Mik said.

  “Aye, captain,” Trip replied.

  “Why leave them anything?” Karista asked.

  “We’ve weapons enough,” Mik replied. “I won’t leave them defenseless in this chaos. They might need to protect themselves.”

  “Lead the way,” Mik then said to Ula, and they all splashed back into the water once more.

  They passed numerous corridors as they swam. Several times, they passed small breaches in the wall that gave them a glimpse of the fighting outside. Reeftowners swam everywhere, battling with evil fish under the dragon’s command. Finally, they came to a branch in the tunnels where there seemed to be no good choice.

  “This one will take us back into the palace,” Ula said, “while I’m pretty sure this will take us outside—into the midst of the fighting.”

  “Doomed ... either way!” burbled Karista.

  “Not either way,” said a deep voice.

  From the inner corridor emerged the gleaming form of Shimanloreth. He looked even larger and more formidable in the confined space of the tunnel.

  Mik and Ula lowered their spears at him, while Meinor and Trip drew their swords.

  “We won’t ... go back,” Mik said, the seaweed’s enchantment distorting his voice.

  “I’ll fight you if I have to,” said Ula.

  Shimmer laughed, and the corridor shook. Fine sand floated down from the ceiling.

  “You won’t have to,” he said. “Not today.”

  Mik and Ula lowered their weapons and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Not ever,; I hope,” Ula said.

  “We’ll see,” Shimmer replied. “I was coming to free you, though you seem to have done the job yourselves. I brought your possessions. They would have been due me anyway, as my share of the forage.”

  “Our weapons?” asked Mik.

  The bronze knight nodded. “Them as well.” He handed two pearl-handled daggers to Trip and a dagger and cutlass to Mik.

  Then he handed the enchanted fish necklace to Mik. The captain put it on, and immediately felt the nauseous tug of the different enchantments. He took the wad of seaweed out of his mouth and handed it to Trip, who stuffed it in a pocket.

  “In case we need it later,” Mik said to the kender.

  Trip nodded his understanding.

  The amulet’s strong magic filled Mik’s lungs and he felt better instantly. Another gemstone scale cracked and fell off the necklace.

  “So many gems gone...” he thought But, instead of voicing his concern, he said, “Which way?”

  “Follow me,” Shimmer replied.

  * * * * *

  As fighting swirled through the submerged streets of Reeftown, Tempest’s dragonspawn lieutenant had taken on a special mission.

  A convenient breach in a coral wall allowed Mog access to the inner corridors of Lakuda’s undersea villa. A handful of razorfish, sharks, and Turbidus leeches—all under the power of the sea dragon—accompanied the
dragonspawn as he swam through the murky corridors toward the chamber where he’d spotted the surface dwellers.

  Mog’s “troops” encountered little resistance during their journey; most of the sea elves were outside the walls of the town boss’ home, battling Tempest’s forces. Those few unfortunates Mog’s troops met, they quickly slew and devoured.

  The passageways of Lakuda’s dwelling twisted and turned through the coral reef, so it took some time for Mog and his allies to find the correct wing of the villa. As they approached, a strange scent in the water caused Mog to pause.

  The dragonspawn swam cautiously forward, sniffing and listening. Soon, he heard voices from the corridor ahead. He crept to the corner and peered around.

  Ahead swam a small group of humanoids, including the surface-dwellers he’d spotted earlier—the ones Tempest was especially interested in. They numbered five, and were a motley crew: humans, kender, sea elf, armored knight.

  Easy prey, Mog thought.

  In his mind, he saw pictures of the dismemberment to come—his sharks biting the hapless victims in half, his razorfish stripping the flesh from the prey’s bones, his leeches swirling in whirlpools of carnage.

  He imagined himself cracking open the knight’s bronze armor, breaking the man’s bones, and sucking out the still warm marrow. The eyes of the victims would taste good as well—especially the succulent ones of the kender. Other soft, meaty portions of their prey he would savor as well—all the best parts, for was he not the commander of Tempest’s legion?

  Mog started forward. Then something brought him up short. He’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of the feast to come, that he hadn’t noticed there was something strange about this rag-tag group. Something about the knight. . . perhaps.

  Did his mistress share this feeling? Was this the reason she was so interested in these fleshy creatures? He tried to call to his mistress, but she was lost in the frenzy of battle. Images of blood and death clouded his mind. For a moment, Mog reveled in them.

  When the red haze faded, the question remained. What was Tempest’s interest in this group?