Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles

by Sullivan, Stephen D (v1. 1)

  Lyssara grinned back. “See you in the morning.” She dove into the moon pool and swam swiftly away. Two guards emerged from the water and stationed themselves near the door to the chamber.

  “We won’t be needing you,” Shimanloreth said.

  The guards looked at each other, then bowed to Shimmer, and retreated back into the water and disappeared around a bend in the passage.

  “They’re probably lurking right around that corner,” Ula said.

  “A respectful distance,” Shimmer noted. A smile tugged at the comers of his mouth, and his brazen eyes flashed.

  Their apartment had a main room with five smaller sleeping alcoves arranged symmetrically around the edges. The chamber was composed of shaped coral, worn smooth by the Dargonesti. A large crystal window set into one wall overlooked the city. Comfortable-looking shells set along the walls served as chairs and couches. Several large nets for stowing possessions hung from the ceiling. An opening in one wall led down a short tunnel to a grooming chamber with hot and cold running fresh water. Each bedchamber featured a web of silky seaweed to support the sleeper.

  The three guests took a few moments to freshen up before settling into their netting.

  “A nicer prison than last time,” Mik noted. He removed his necklace and set it on the hammock beside him.

  “I hope your minnow’s faring well,” Ula said, “since he’s got the key to finding this treasure.”

  “Trip won’t let us down,” Mik said. “I just hope you’re reading those clues right.”

  “We’ll know soon enough if I’m not,” Ula replied.

  “That’s small comfort.”

  “We must remember that Aurialastican and its secrets belong to dragons,” Shimmer said. “The owners departed along with the gods—but the Dragonheights are still perilous.”

  “How hard can it be to wander through a vacant house?” Mik asked.

  “Just because the owner is away, doesn’t mean that the house is unguarded,” Shimanloreth said. He yawned.

  “We’ll crack that egg in the morning,” Ula said. “Or after we rescue your kender.”

  * * * * *

  The next morning, Mik woke to find Ula and Lyssara in mid-argument once more. He slitted one brown eye open and gazed at the elf women; even squabbling, they were still amazingly beautiful.

  "If the overlords find the Isles, they will destroy us all,” Lyssara said.

  "And that should matter to me because ... ?” Ula replied.

  Lyssara gazed at her sister in disbelief. "Ula Drakenvaal, how can you even think such a thing?”

  "Are the Isles any more precious than the mainland?” Ula asked. “I didn’t see our people rushing to help Ansalon when the overlords came.”

  "The dragons did what they could,” Lyssara said. "It was all that anyone could do.”

  "All save the gods, who turned their backs on the world,” Ula replied. "No wonder the world turns its back on the gods. If the metallic dragons weren’t willing to defend this place, why should I?”

  Lyssara glared at both Ula and Shimanloreth, who was lounging on a shell nearby. “Some dragons are willing to fight, as are some people—both human and elf.”

  "Like Benthor and Misa Kell?” Ula asked. "Pardon me if I don’t like the company you keep, sister.”

  “Ula, these are your people, too. We are in danger—even you and your friends. If you don’t believe me, if you won’t believe your family, speak to the Sage. She will advise you of the truth.”

  "Who?” Mik asked, sitting up in his hammock and stretching. He fetched his enchanted necklace from the bedding and stuck it securely in his belt.

  Lyssara looked surprised, as though she’d forgotten about the sailor. “The Sea Sage—an ancient oracle, tied to the spirit of our people. She counsels us in times of trouble or need.”

  "The Dargonesti turn to her rather than think on then- own,” Ula said sarcastically.

  Lyssara ignored her sister’s jab. “The sage says that every Dargonesti soul—even the least—will be needed in the dark times ahead.”

  Ula’s rolled her green eyes at Mik. “The least meaning me, of course.”

  Lyssara paced agitatedly around the room. “No, ” she said, “I’m saying that all are needed.”

  Mik pulled himself out of his sleeping web and stretched again. “This sage sounds pretty wise,” he said, catching Ula’s eye. “Perhaps she could help us with our current... problem.”

  “As a matter of fact,” Ula replied, “I’d already planned to visit her on our way to Aurialastican.”

  Lyssara’s long eyelashes fluttered, and a surprised smile danced across her lovely face. “You have? I’m so glad. Some distrust you, my sister, but I know your heart will not lead you astray. Shall I make the arrangements for you?”

  “No,” Ula said. “I’ll handle this on my own.”

  “Very well,” Lyssara replied. “May the tides lift you to glory.” She bowed slightly and left the chamber.

  “ Neath traversed azure wine—Converse with hoary fates—With tangled hones of vine—To root Green keg awaits, ” Mik recited. “You think the ‘Green key’ lies with this sage?”

  “I’m almost certain of it.”

  “It’s a dangerous path, Ula,” Shimmer warned.

  “All our paths are dangerous,” Ula replied. “It’s true the Sea Sage can be tricky, but I’ve dealt with her before.” She paced in tight circles around the chamber, rubbing her chin with one slender hand. “I’ll make the necessary preparations. Mik, you and Shimmer should hire some draken rays for our trip to Aurialastican.”

  “No, I want to go with you to visit this Sage,” Mik said. Ula arched one platinum eyebrows at him. “Outsiders are usually not permitted.”

  “Worried about protocol, Ula?” Mik asked, his brown eyes twinkling.

  “All right,” she said. “You can come, but we need steeds in any case.”

  “I’ll hire them,” said Shimmer.

  “Good,” Mik said. He looped his arm through Ula’s elbow. “You and I can pick up some breakfast on the way. I’m starving.”

  *****

  Shimmer left to find suitable draken for their trip while Ula and Mik stopped for breakfast and went to gather provisions to visit the Sage. Shimmer gave them some money to cover expenses and Ula converted the change into small bits of jewelry, which she wove into her sparse clothing.

  Mik marveled at the beauty of the Dargonesti city; it was even more spectacular in the daylight than it had been the previous night. The shell-like spires and reefs of Darthalla stretched almost to the surface above, and far into the indigo darkness below. The city teemed with elves swimming about their daily business: aristocrats and traders, hunters and fishers, kelp farmers, tuna herders, and undersea vintners. Shell-armored riders on the backs of huge draken rays glided through the streets, keeping the peace.

  The elves themselves were something to behold, too— slender and graceful, with delicate features and sparkling eyes. Few were as lovely as Ula or her sister, but most put human beauties to shame. Mik avoided gawking as much as possible.

  The magic of his necklace worked well during their sojourn, though he lost two more jeweled scales. He experienced none of the difficulties he had earlier, which left him hoping that the problems were merely a side effect of Karista’s magic seaweed. In his heart, though, he knew the magic of the amulet—like all magic in Krynn—was gradually failing.

  After completing their errands, Mik and Ula hooked up with Shimmer near the edge of town. The bronze knight helped Ula and Mik mount their leathery indigo steeds, then swung into his own saddle.

  “Follow me,” Ula said, urging her draken ray forward.

  Mik and Shimmer fell in behind, and they quickly faded into the hazy blue distance.

  * * * * *

  Mog could not hold fishy shapes forever. Lurking in the shadows of Darthalla taxed his ability, strength, and willpower nearly to its limits. He had used other disguises besides the eel: fish, octo
pus, and—once—even sea elf. This last had strained him mightily; his scales twitched at the thought of it.

  Still, the dragonspawn’s ruses had worked. Amid his enemies, he remained undiscovered. Several times he had been forced to take refuge in hidden places to resume his own form and rest for a while.

  Doing so had hindered his mission to track Mik and the others—but always he had regained their scents. During the night, he had even taken time to feed. He’d hidden the elf s hones beneath a boulder, in the deepest trenches of the city. Likely, no one would ever find the remains of the dragonspawn’s latest victim.

  Hiding in the wide seaweed beds beyond the city proved an easier task. Mog’s scales blended in amid the tall kelp near the Sea Sage’s lair. The ocean floor fell away here, into a deep, weed-filled sinkhole. Mog’s quarry tethered their draken rays in the kelp nearby. Then the blue elf woman and the sailor went down into the hole, while the bronze warrior waited near the top.

  Mog wondered which one of them had the black diamond key. He considered slaying them one by one to find out, hut a voice in the hack of his brain whispered “No!” Wait and watch.

  Mog shrank hack into the weeds. His time had not yet come.

  * * * * *

  Mik and Ula wound their way down into the wide pit that formed the lair of the Sea Sage. The kelp around them swayed sensuously, like thousands of dancing snakes. It made the hair stand up on the back of Mik’s neck; Ula showed no signs of feeling anything similar.

  Mik pushed himself to keep up with the Dargonesti. She moved with the grace of a dolphin and the speed of a razorfish. The weeds didn’t seem to touch her; Mik had to work hard to avoid becoming hopelessly entangled.

  They pressed ever deeper, and the azure light above faded gradually to indigo. As the light lessened, the weeds thinned out, until they saw the sandy ocean bed rising up before them. It was as though they were at the bottom of a very deep bowl, surrounded by seaweed. On one side of the clearing, a green reef rose from the silt. A cave, slightly taller than a man, opened up in the reefs face. The grotto was not very deep, and mossy emerald weeds lined its floor.

  In the middle of the circle of sand at the clearing’s center lay a small coral pedestal. It was shaped like a tiny column and carved with runes that Mik could not read.

  “This is it,” Ula said. “Remember, you are not supposed to be here. Say nothing.”

  Mik nodded.

  Ula opened the small sack she’d brought down with her. She pulled out five sand dollars and a large golden starfish. Tiny pearls decorated the starfish’s arms and there was a circular depression, slightly larger than the tip of a man’s thumb, in the center. Ula took a large bluish pearl from the pouch and placed it in the depression.

  Immediately, the sea around them began to bubble and swirl. A ghostly wailing sound emanated from the cave and built quickly to a deafening roar. Mik covered his ears with his hands and squinted, trying to see through the roiling waters.

  A shape moved at the cave mouth, just at the edge of his vision. The thing was huge, much larger than the wizened

  crone Mik had been expecting—taller and broader than even a minotaur.

  Quickly, the bubbles faded and the water calmed to uncanny stillness.

  Beyond the coral pillar, in front of the cave, stood the Sea Sage. She was twelve feet tall and made entirely out of seaweed. Her green eyes blazed brightly in the indigo darkness. She spoke with a voice like ancient ship timbers breaking.

  “Who dares disturb my rest?”

  Twenty-Four

  The Pirates' Lair

  The water was chillier than Trip had exit pected, and he almost gasped out his air as he sank under the dark brine. In a moment, though, he regained his composure. Just before he was about to take a breath he remembered—and he was proud of this considering the fix he was in—that he didn’t have any magical seaweed.

  Green and indigo shadows surrounded the kender. He reached out with his hand to make sure they were as insubstantial as they seemed, and felt slightly disappointed when they were. Then he remembered the real threat—the men who were coming to catch him.

  He gazed up at the surface, but saw only a vague, gray oval. No searchers yet—but he knew they couldn’t be far behind. Turning, he dived down deeper. The strange green luminescence didn’t make it much easier to see, and the kender had to grope his way through the semi-darkness.

  The hole wasn’t as deep as he’d thought. He found the rocky bottom only three fathoms down. For a moment, he feared he was trapped. Then he noticed that the passage split in three directions. Neither the green light nor the current gave any indication which would be the best way to go.

  For a moment, he thought about turning back. But a quick glance upward showed that his pursuers had found his escape hole. Trip couldn’t be sure if they saw him in the gloom, but he didn’t intend to make things any easier for them.

  Though he was an expert diver (part of his swimming talent), he doubted that he could hold his breath longer than they’d care to hang around the hole. He could think of only one thing to do.

  Trip pulled the thong of his lucky treasure finder from around his neck. He knew it was a long chance, but the amulet had worked for him in the past He held the rock out before him in the dim light, and moved it around in front of the three diverging tunnels.

  Astoundingly, the small pointed rock began to spin in front of the right hand passage. He took a moment—but only a moment as he was fast running out of air—to check his findings. Then he kicked hard into the right hand tunnel.

  He swam holding the treasure finder in front of him. The gloom seemed to go on forever as Trip swam. He was already tired from being chased to the caves. Soon his lungs burned and once more spots danced before his eyes.

  Just as he feared he’d drown in the darkness, the green light grew stronger. The passage opened up before him and the ceiling fell away. Dizzy, the kender groped his way to the surface. He thrust his head out of the water and gasped for air.

  He leaned against the lip of the opening for a few moments, panting to catch his breath. Then a vague rattling sound caught his ear. Trip looked up and nearly fell back into the water.

  The green light suffusing the cave came from glowing lichens on the wet rock walls. A hissing breeze blew from some unseen source, making a sound like a snake ready to strike. The room was filled with human bones. Some lay scattered across the floor. Others dangled—like hideous marionettes—in mildewed netting. The breeze tugged on the bones, making the eerie ratding that Trip had first heard. The gruesome sight, though, wasn’t what nearly caused the kender to lose his grip.

  Trip broke into a huge grin. A vast store of pirate loot lined the tiny cavern: rusting weapons, tattered clothing, rotting draperies, some furniture, and several upturned chests of coins. The chests’ contents lay spilled across the cave’s stone floor.

  “No wonder the treasure finder spotted this place,” Trip said, his small voice filled with awe.

  He pulled himself up out of the hole and took a good look around. While, to a kender, the cave seemed a veritable archive of interesting things, Trip’s long years as a treasure diver made him realize that few of the items held any real value.

  The steel coins—which must have formed the majority of treasure in the chests—were now little more than piles of rust. Some gold and silver pieces lay scattered among the detritus, though. Trip scooped up a few scant handfuls of these and stuffed them into the pockets of his lizard skin vest.

  The bones, he assumed, came from pirates or their victims. All seemed to have met grisly ends; some still had rusting weapons protruding from their skulls and ribcages. Trip figured that everyone who knew about this place must have died in the massacre, or surely someone would have come for the treasure long ago—rather than leaving it here to rot.

  The furniture and clothing had fared little better than the steel pieces. It saddened Trip’s heart to see what must have once been wonderful things treated so badly. “
Sea worms would have been kinder,” he muttered.

  He turned up a few small pearls amid the rubbish, but only costume gems and jewelry. A nice piece of gold embellished with cut rhinestones he stuck in a pocket. “For Ula,” he told himself.

  Then something in the corner of the room gave him a start. At first, he thought it was a person. Then he realized that it was actually an old, hooded cloak, propped on top of a chest and leaning against the cavern wall. The cloak looked bulky and solid—like a tarpaulin—and it shimmered in the dim light.

  Moving closer, Trip saw that it was covered with tiny greenish scales. The cloak’s surface rustled in the faint breeze, and the scales glistened.

  Trip’s mouth dropped open in appreciation and awe. “I wonder what kind of lizard it came from?” he asked himself. His face brightened as he gazed at the seaweed-like fringe around the cloak’s edges. “Maybe it’s from a sea serpent!” It didn’t resemble the skin of the monster that had attacked him a few days ago, but it did remind him of a sea serpent he’d seen once on a previous voyage with Mik. His heart beat faster at the prospect.

  Throwing caution to the wind, the kender skipped forward and grabbed the cloak by the hem. As he did, a creaking sound came from within the fabric. The kender looked up, and saw a skeletal face bearing down on him as the cloak lumbered forward.

  Trip yelped and drew the daggers from his boots. He slashed with the small blades as the thing in the cloak lurched toward him. He stepped back, swinging again and again, trying to remember how far it was to the passage opening, hoping he could make it that far.

  Then it fell on him. The kender went down, his legs and arms flailing. He felt his knives cut into something hard. Cold fingernails slashed his face. The cloak’s darkness enveloped him. The thing’s smothering presence bore him to the ground. Its foul odor clogged his nostrils.

  He stabbed at it, again and again and again as its dead weight pressed down on him. Something clattered and the kender felt teeth scrape against his cheek. He tried to roll away, but the cloak wouldn’t let him out. He was trapped— pinned in a heavy, dank robe of darkness, trapped with an undead creature that wanted his life.