“The sailor makes sense,” Shimmer said.
Ula frowned and sighed. “To me, too. Trying for Aurialastican was a mistake.” Glancing at Mik, she added. “Pull with me, and we’ll turn this boat around.”
“Aye .. . captain,” Mik replied.
Ula laughed and the two counter-rowed the oars a moment and turned the skiff around. Waves coming from the west rocked the boat precariously, making it difficult to stay on course. As they regained their bearings, a huge dark shape surged up out of the waves to stem. It flashed through the air overhead and disappeared into the swirling fog.
Ula cursed.
Black gloved hands suddenly appeared atop the skiff’s gunwales, and with one sudden tug, the small boat went under.
Twenty-One
Darthalla
The fish amulet’s ancient magic enveloped Mik as steely fingers pulled him down into the deep. He felt his stomach swirl and his eyes cloud over—sure indications that he’d worn the necklace too long. Abusing the power of artifacts like the necklace could be perilous—even deadly. Mik clenched his jaw tight and concentrated, trying to shake off his fears.
Shadowy shapes flashed through the water around him. He reached for his cutlass, but strong hands grabbed his wrist
Something cold and rubbery wrapped itself around his lower body. He felt as though he were encased in a clinging blanket. A huge, bat-like form flashed by his face. Something struck him, and he felt a stinging, burning sensation in his cheek.
Only an arm’s-length away, Ula and Shimmer were struggling against their attackers. A strange, warm sleepiness began to steal over the captain. He blinked and found it hard to keep his eyes open.
“They’ve drugged me,” he realized. He discovered his hands were pinned to his side by the same rubbery blanket that encircled his legs. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the alien face of an enormous ray peering back at him. “I’m trapped,” he thought, only slightly surprised not to be disturbed by that fact.
He heard Ula shout something, but he couldn’t make out the words. Shimmer’s bronze armor flashed brightly in the ever-deepening darkness. The knight turned, light blazed from under his visor, then Mik remembered nothing more.
*****
Mik awoke, lying on a golden platform encased in a large, transparent bag. He was underwater, floating in a wide chamber with glass walls—which formed enormous windows— extending from curved floor to domed ceiling. Fist-sized * glowing pearls lining the chamber provided the room with light. A huge pearl, as large as a man’s skull, shimmered at the dome’s apex. Mik’s transparent cell was anchored near the chamber’s sole exit.
Beyond the glass walls lay an amazing underwater city. This was no rag-tag settlement like Reeftown, but a beautifully realized whole. Buildings looped through the ocean outside the window, curving like graceful shells, some reaching toward the unseen surface far above. The architecture sprang from the huge reefs dominating the landscape, each structure seeming as though it had grown organically from the surrounding coral. Blue, green, and pale white lights streamed from the windows of the houses outside, dappling the water in shifting patterns.
All of the buildings appeared to be meticulously maintained. Some were clearly inspired by terrestrial architecture and seagoing ships, but most had a submarine beauty all their own. Great undersea gardens wound through the structures, providing the city’s inhabitants with both privacy and beauty.
Blue-skinned Dargonesti swam around, between, and through the amazing structures. The sea elves’ slender bodies darted in and out of the settlement’s indigo shadows. Turbidus dolphins accompanied some of the fair folk, while other elves rode on the backs of huge manta rays. The rays drifted gracefully through the city’s canyons like titanic bats.
Most of the elves Mik saw were dressed in a manner similar to Ula: Scant pieces of silky fabric held together by elaborate chains of jewelry. Some, however, wore armor of golden shells and pieces of turtle carapace. A few covered themselves in sinuous wraps of glowing seaweed. And some eschewed clothing altogether; only their long, sensuous hair obscured their considerable physical charms.
Mik was so entranced by the view outside the huge windows that, at first, he didn’t notice the people floating near the far side of the room. Two shell-like thrones hung in the water at the chamber’s opposite end. Perched in one of the chairs was a handsome warrior elf. Jewelrylike armor covered his muscular form, and a gem-studded diadem sat upon his forehead. The other chair sat empty.
The handsome elf regarded the two figures floating before him with grim majesty. One of the people Mik immediately recognized as Ula. The other was a tall, blond man in orangish armor. It took Mik a moment to realize that this second person was Shimanloreth, shorn of his helmet.
A female elf with flowing pearly hair hovered to the right of the enthroned man. This woman strongly resembled Ula, though she appeared older and somewhat fuller of figure.
On the throne’s other side swam an elf in turtle-shell armor. Mik recognized him as the guard they’d met at the gates to Reeftown. He was Volrek, one of Lakuda’s sentries.
Ula, the man on the throne, and all the others were engaged in an animated discussion. Shimmer, cool and distant, hovered off to one side, near Ula.
Mik turned and spied a sea-elf guard in golden half-armor treading water behind his baglike prison. “Where am I?” he asked. “Is this Darthalla?”
“It is, and you are ordered to remain silent,” the female guard said. “Only Ula Drakenvaal and Shimanloreth have permission to speak before Lord Aquironian at this time.” Her exquisite face looked stern, brooking no arguments.
“Your pardon,” Mik said with a slight bow. He cautiously pressed his hand against the transparent wall of his prison. To his surprise, his fingers passed right through into the water beyond. He checked for his fish necklace and found it missing. He spotted it resting on a coral pillar behind the guard.
“Am I a prisoner?” he whispered to the guard.
“That is yet to be determined.”
“Then return my necklace to me that I may silently observe this audience as a guest.”
The guard looked skeptical.
“Do you have orders against it?” Mik asked.
“My orders were that you should cause no trouble.”
“And I shall cause no trouble. I wish merely to observe as, I believe, is my due.”
“Very well,” the guard said. She fetched the necklace and handed it to Mik through the bubble.
Mik put it on and fought down the familiar wave of nausea. He steadied himself, stepped through the bubble, and took a deep breath. For a moment, he felt as though he were suffocating. At first the water pressed in around him and no air came to his lungs.
A moment later, though, another gem scale crumbled and the enchantment kicked in. He took a deep breath and swam—with as much decorum as he could muster— toward the group assembled near the throne. He took up a position hovering in the water just behind Shimmer, who barely acknowledged him. He noticed that the guard came with him and stationed herself on his flank.
“Ula Drakenvaal,” Lord Aquironian was sayinng, “the guardsman Volrek has ridden here on the fastest draken ray at the behest of his lady Lakuda. He suggests that you may have had a hand in some trouble in Reeftown recently.”
“The Landwalker led the dragon Tempest to our doorstep,” Volrek said, shaking his fist so hard that his turtle- shell armor rattled. “She—and her companions—caused the massive destruction of Reeftown.”
“That’s absurd, milord,” said Ula. “Why would I lead the dragon to Reeftown? I still have friends there.”
“One, perhaps,” Volrek said, “though I see he is at your side now—as we suspected. Milord, they are in this together.” “You have some proof of this?” the lord asked.
“All know the grudge the Landwalker bears against Reeftown and the lady Lakuda,” Volrek said.
“Lakuda is a self-righteous, covetous bitch,” Ula shot back. L
ord Aquironian, reclining in his shell-like throne, looked slightly amused. “A common trait among the scavengers of the outer reefs, it seems,” he said.
Ula flushed.
“The dragon has never before penetrated so deeply into the Veil’s enchantment,” Volrek continued. “It does so shortly after she returns to Reeftown, and when it attacks she is nowhere to be found. I say that it clearly adds up against her.”
“It was Lakuda’s foragers who brought me back to the city,” Ula replied. “Why don’t you blame them? Or blame yourselves? I had no desire to return to Reeftown. And what would I gain from its destruction?”
“You are a well-known malcontent and rabble rouser. Is that not so, Lord Aquironian?”
Mik glanced at Shimmer but still the bronze knight remained impassive.
Before the lord could speak, the woman hovering near the throne swam forward. “Milord,” she began, “while it is true that my sister is something of a rebel—a fact which has made her less than welcome many places, even in the house of our father—I find it difficult to believe that she would consort with this evil dragon.”
“She’s consorted with dragons before!” Volrek put in. “Perhaps ...”
“Enough!” Aquironian cut him off. “You may be an envoy from our kin in Reeftown, Volrek, but there are still protocols to be observed. You interrupt me or members of my court at your peril.”
The turtle-armored elf bowed low. “Your forgiveness, lord. We who live beyond the Veil are sometimes brash and ill-mannered. I intended no offense to you, or the lady Lyssara Drakenvaal.”
Ula’s sister, Lyssara, nodded in reply. She turned her gaze upon Ula and Shimmer and seemed slightly surprised to find Mik hovering next to them. “Though my sister has associated with some ... disreputable types in the past,” she said, her purple eyes straying to Mik, “she has no love for evil creatures, dragon or otherwise.”
Ula, noticing Mik for the first time, gave him a discreet wink and motioned that he should keep silent.
“Perhaps your sister has changed since you last saw her,” Lord Aquironian suggested.
“I do not doubt that she has,” Lyssara replied. “And possibly not for the better. However, her Drakenvaal upbringing should not be entirely forgotten. No one of our line could intentionally harm either the Dragon Isles or the Dargonesti. She cannot possibly be causing the trouble with the dragon, nor the weakening of the Veil.”
“You’re right,” Ula said. “I have nothing to do with this fish flop. But I don’t need you sticking your big butt into this, Lyssara. This is between Lakuda’s cronies and me.”
Lyssara’s purple eyes narrowed, but her voice remained calm. “Very well, little sister,” she said, “since you shun my help, I leave you to your own devices.” She slid back behind the throne and hovered there.
“What have you to say, Ula Landwalker?” Lord Aquironian asked.
“I demand to see my accuser,” Ula said. “If Lakuda really believes all this sea-foam she’s spouting about me, then she should stand before milord Aquironian herself. But instead, she sends this flunky to spread her baseless accusations.”
“Milady Lakuda cannot stand before you, Lord Aquironian,” Volrek interjected. “She was gravely injured in the fight with the dragon, and even now lies recovering from her wounds.”
“Fish oil!” said Ula. “I’ll gladly face Volrek, or anyone he cares to designate, in trial by combat to prove my innocence.” She held her spear horizontally before her, in a traditional attitude of honorable challenge.
Volrek shifted uncomfortably where he was hovering.
“Ula doesn’t have anything to do with the dragon,” Mik ventured to say. “She could have been killed in the attack just as easily as anyone else.”
The lord of the sea elves regarded the sailor with a mixture of surprise and disdain. “You have not been given leave to speak, surfacer,” he said.
Mik bowed. “My apologies, lord.”
“For what my word is worth, Lord Aquironian, I concur,” Shimmer said calmly. “Ula is not in league with the dragon Tempest.”
“He would say that,” Volrek shouted. “They’re in this together. ”
Aquironian regarded Lakuda’s messenger coldly. “Then you intend to challenge her word, Volrek? You will face Ula Landwalker in combat?”
Volrek shrank back. “It was not my lady’s instruction to do so,” he said.
“Then I will consider that you have withdrawn your complaint,” Aquironian replied. “Ula Drakenvaal, also known as Landwalker, is free to go—though we suggest that she depart our city at her earliest convenience.”
Ula bowed slightly, “I shall stay no longer than necessary, lord.”
“What of this man?” Volrek said, indicating Mik. “He is the rightful hostage of Lakuda. Shimanloreth stole him from the detention chamber—along with several others.”
“Shimmer came to our aid when the city was falling,” Mik said.
“This man—and the other prisoners—may be set against my forage claims, if the Lady Lakuda so desires,” Shimmer said.
Aquironian straightened up in his throne. “I’ve had enough of this squabbling,” he said. “It’s late, and my lady wife awaits. Since I see no way of determining whose lawful plunder this surfacer might be, I declare him—and any associated others who enter my realm—free from all bond and obligation. And since I see no evil in this man, he shall be treated as our guest.”
He turned to the Dargonesti woman standing guard behind Mik. “Show him all due courtesy.”
The elf in golden seashell armor bowed, ‘Aye, milord.”
Mik bowed, too. “Thank you, most gracious lord of the sea elves.”
“While you are in our city, you will obey our rules,” the lord said to them. “If you do not, you will be dealt with accordingly.”
“I understand,” Mik said. “Thank you, milord.”
“Lyssara,” Aquironian said, “see that our surfacedwelling guest is given comfortable accommodations and that he understands the ways of our people. See to your sister and Shimanloreth as well.” He rose from his throne and crossed the room with a few powerful kicks. “Now, if you’ll forgive me . . .” Two guards opened the door at the back of the chamber, and Lord Aquironian exited.
Volrek glanced angrily from Ula to the doors and then followed the lord out.
Lyssara Drakenvaal swam forward once more. “I shall be delighted to do as my lord bids,” she said, her smile lighting up the room. “I will show you to your chambers.” She turned and led them all out of the room, through the same golden doors through which Aquironian had exited.
“Thanks for speaking up for me,” Ula said to Mik. “It was a brave thing to do.”
“You’re welcome,” Mik replied. Looking around the arching corridor, he said, “This city of yours is amazing.”
“It’s not my city any more,” she said. “And Darthalla is about as shabby as Reeftown once you get past its gilt exterior.”
Lyssara, swimming ahead, glanced at them over her shoulder. “Please try to keep up,” she said. “We’ve some business to discuss before you retire.”
Ula rolled her eyes. “I can’t wait.”
“Could we perhaps hold this discussion someplace dry?” Mik asked. “Our recent journeys have left me pretty worn out, and it would be nice to breathe without relying on enchantments for a while.”
Ula’s sister glanced at the sailor’s jewel-scaled necklace. “As you wish,” she said. “Follow me.”
Twenty-Two
A Kender’s Visit to Jaentarth
Trip didn’t mind being locked in a small room—to a kender, it seemed like quite a large room. He didn’t even mind being tied up. The ropes weren’t too itchy, and it gave him something to work on during the voyage. What he did mind was that the room had no window, and he really wanted to see where Lord Kell’s galley was taking him. He hoped—if they were going to Jaentarth—that he might even see some pirates.
The brass warriors were mo
re careful with knots than most humans. It look Trip the better part of two hours to work his way out, and then about ten minutes more to rig the ropes so that he could slip in and out without anyone knowing.
Occasionally, someone poked their head in and gave him some food. The food was never very well prepared, but Trip enjoyed it nonetheless. Hardtack, jerky, and water were better than some of the sea elf fare he’d had recently. He would have given a lot for a good tuna steak, though.
After fixing the ropes properly, he went to work on the cabin’s door. This proved somewhat easier, since he had both his hands free, and because he had pieces of wire in his pockets, with which to pick the lock.
While digging out the hidden wire he was reminded of his other major annoyance: before throwing him in this small, windowless room, Kell’s crew had searched him thoroughly—searched him like a gully dwarf, as his uncle might have said. He’d lost quite a few interesting trinkets in the process: some sharks’ teeth, a tiny sand dollar, a bit of string that his cousin had given him, and a polished brass button that he’d taken from a prison guard in Khur. That was an interesting adventure!
Sadly, they’d also discovered and confiscated the remnants of his magical seaweed, his lucky kender treasure finder—a real blow, that!—and (he sighed just to think of it) the black diamond artifact. He hadn’t hidden the artifact very well, assuming that Kell’s people wouldn’t be so rude as to search him, once Mik and the others had left. In fact, before they grabbed him, ransacked his things, tied him up, and thrust him into this dark closet, he had actually been looking forward to his forced voyage to Perch, on the island of Alarl.
Kell’s crew hadn’t bothered to expropriate the worthless- seeming tiny wires that served Trip as lockpicks, though. As he sprang the rusty lock on the door of the cabin, and stepped out, many of the crew were asleep. Still, the galley was a crowded place, and the kender had to use all his considerable stealth to creep along without being seen. Voices from the ship’s stem attracted Trip’s attention. He sneaked past several rows of sleeping oarsmen to get there, but the challenge of doing so only made him more eager to hear what was going on.
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