by Tina Daniell
It fell to Tailonna to feed the morkoth every day. She would catch fish, then carry them to its cage and push them through the bars, careful not to bring her fingers too close to the creature's beak. It seemed to be growing stronger, and though the bars on the cage were solid, and the latch strong and out of the morkoth's reach, the beast's presence worried her.
"Do you think we'll have any trouble getting the morkoth to Lord Attat's?" the elf asked as Maquesta and Fritzen wandered over to watch a feeding session.
"No trouble at all," Maq replied. "I intend to make the minotaur lord come get it."
The three laughed for several long minutes, before Maquesta strolled toward the aft deck. Fritzen followed her.
"When we pull into Lacynos—" Fritzen started.
"If we make it on time," Maq interrupted. "The cage is slowing us, despite the magic of the flute. I'm troubled over it; the cage's drag was something I had not anticipated."
"We'll make it," he said. "And when we make it, what will you do, Maquesta?"
She looked at him quizzically.
"You've a taste of being a captain now. I can't see you doing anything else."
Maq had to admit she felt a satisfaction at the respect accorded her by the Perechon's crew. No longer was there any hint of her being merely the ship's mascot or someone who had to be treated as special because she was the captain's daughter. She was the Perechon's captain—at least for another week, and everyone on board recognized that. Once or twice it had occurred to her to wonder what it would be like with Melas taking over again as captain, and her following orders once more. But she quickly pushed such thoughts away as the ultimate disloyalty.
"My father is the captain of the Perechon. It's that simple."
"Kof brought back pockets full of gems. Enough to buy your own ship," Fritzen posed. "And a lot more."
Maq hung her head. "I know. I've been thinking about that. I want to offer some of the gems to Attat, an attempt to buy Kof. He deserves his freedom. Lord Attat is liable to not let him go—just for spite. But if Attat did go for it, there still would be enough gems left over to pay this crew a year's worth of wages and to buy a fully-rigged two-masted ship. I'd hate to leave my father. But, despite everything, I sort of like this. Being in charge."
Fritzen grinned. "It shows."
"I'd have to get a crew," she mused, dreaming.
"Well, for starters you'd have Kof, if Attat can be tempted. And you have me."
Maquesta looked up at him, and Fritzen drew her into his arms. He kissed her, and she lingered in his embrace, then she pulled away, confused, and worried that someone might have been watching. "I-I have to take the wheel," she stammered. "It's my shift."
"I'll relieve you in a few hours," he offered, grinning.
Maquesta nodded, backing away and realizing she must be blushing horribly. Turning and bouncing up the stairs, she allowed a wide smile to creep across her face.
As Lendle busied himself in the hold working on his oar engine, Ilyatha helped him, relishing the darkness of the ship's belly and delighting in the gnome's company. The shadowperson told the gnome that the work kept his mind off his daughter, Sando. Though from time to time Ilyatha stared off into the distance, as if in a trance. Lendle suspected he was trying to telepathically contact his daughter. Finally, the shadowperson's words confirmed it.
"We are still too far away for my mind to touch hers, to reassure her we are coming," Ilyatha said sorrowfully.
Lendle tried to be compassionate. "We're still many days out of Lacynos," he said. "She'll be all right. You'll see."
The shadowperson made some adjustments here and there to the gnome's odd-looking oar machine, then glanced at Lendle. "But what happens, my friend, if we are late? According to Kof, Lacynos is eight days away. Our thirty-day deadline is seven days away."
The gnome scowled and retrieved a crate of rods, cylinders, clamps, bolts, winches, and pulleys. "We'll make it," he said slowly and sadly. "Maquesta Kar-Thon will think of something. She will not allow us to be late."
Belwar continued to monitor the Perechon's voyage. Every now and then the magnificent ki-rin would swoop out of the clouds and hover over the ship, sending the sailors friendly greetings and, on a few occasions, loaves of bread, wheels of cheese, sacks of oranges, or something else good to eat. Often the food was in the shape of mythical birds or long-finned fish, as the ki-rin created it from his imagination.
The great creature most often conversed with the sea elf on these visits, though Maquesta sometimes was treated to his words of wisdom.
"I sense the evil growing," the ki-rin told her on one of these special occasions. It was nearing sunset, and he made it clear that during this visit his time would be spent only with Maquesta. "Snaring the morkoth stopped only a small speck of the wave of evil gaining strength in the Blood Sea."
Maquesta looked into Belwar's iridescent eyes. "You talked about this evil before, when we first met you. How can you sense this? And can you tell what the evil is?"
"It is in my nature to feel the good and bad pulses in this world. Too, I can sense good and evil in planes that exist side by side with your world of Krynn." The ki-rin shook his head sadly, his golden mane glittering and causing Maquesta to blink. "There is always evil in every world, but when the pulse of it gets stronger, when those with foul intentions become more powerful, it makes me uneasy. I am uneasy now, and that is why I know the evil is becoming more tangible."
The ki-rin hovered above the deck and looked to the sky. "I have business again on another plane, though I suspect it shall not keep me for more than a few days. I will return to you when my tasks are complete." With that, he climbed into the air, shimmered, and turned into a translucent, glittering cloud that dissipated in the wind.
As the Perechon approached the section of the Blood Sea known as Blood Cup, the site of many sunken ships, Maquesta stood near the capstan, her spyglass pressed to her eye. She was beginning to worry in earnest about making it back to Lacynos on time. The flute had been a boon, but they were four days out of the minotaur port city, and the deadline was three days away.
"There's something odd about the water."
Maquesta put the spyglass away as she saw Tailonna climb up over the railing. Maq had gotten used to the sea elf's frequent excursions into the water to catch fish for the morkoth—or just to swim.
"Odd, how?" Maq asked, padding over to join her.
"There are no fish. At least nothing small for me to catch for your beast." Tailonna shook herself, this time staying far enough away from Maquesta that she did not drench the captain. "I saw a couple of barracuda and one large bullshark. That was it. Though fish that size tend to keep the smaller fish away, I swam far enough that I should have seen at least a school of queen angels or some cuddlefish hanging near the bottom."
Maquesta looked toward the aft deck. Hvel was talking to Kof, who had the wheel. Maq rubbed her chin. "Maybe the presence of the morkoth is spooking them; the thing certainly has made me uneasy. That hasn't caused a problem with fish before now, but maybe because he is stronger…" She took a few steps toward the center of the deck and waved to Hvel. "Check on the morkoth!" Hvel nodded, and Maq resumed her conversation with the Tailonna.
Though Maquesta still considered the sea elf haughty and somewhat irritating, she was starting to warm to her. Maq had gained some respect for the comely Dimernesti. The sea elf had taught her about several drop-offs in the Blood Sea, things Maq was sure even her father didn't know about. Tailonna detailed where the coral cities of the mermen were and where other sea races frequented, and she explained that the mermen were often more than willing to trade with surface dwellers, though the mermen were shrewd bargainers.
"Far to the west is the Pit of Istar." Tailonna started to regale Maq with tales of another feature of the sea floor. "The water there is more than three hundred feet deep, and halfway down there is a whirlpool above an ancient rune-covered column."
Maq, listening to the story, g
lanced casually over her shoulder to watch Hvel. She squinted her eyes to see what he was doing. Working with the chain on the cage, she suspected, maybe pulling some seaweed free from it. Hvel worked and worried over the cage, then he started playing around with the mechanism that held it to the deck.
"No!" she shouted, finally realizing what he really was doing.
Maquesta broke away from the sea elf and darted toward the aft section of the ship, her sandaled feet slapping hard over the polished wood. A softer slapping sound indicated the barefoot sea elf was on her heels. "Stop it, Hvel! You'll release the cage!"
Hvel glanced up and smiled at his approaching captain. Nodding to her, he released the last clamp that held the morkoth's cage to the back of the ship.
"What have you done?" Maq screeched, as she slid alongside him.
Hvel looked at her blankly, and she spotted red flecks in his eyes. "The morkoth needed to be free," he said in a dull, monotone voice. "I couldn't open the cage, though. I tried real hard, too. So I let the cage loose. I thought maybe its impact on the sea floor might break it open. My friend the morkoth needed to be free. He told me so."
"All stop!" Maquesta bellowed at the top of her lungs.
Immediately the sailors on deck rushed to the rigging to lower the sails.
"Drop anchor!" Maq continued to shout orders. "Now!"
"Aye, Captain!" It was Vartan calling from the capstan, where he was fervently working to lower the anchor.
A pounding across the deck brought Koraf and Fritzen to the aft section where the cage had been affixed. Hvel grinned at them and quickly explained how successful he was in freeing his new friend. He puffed out his chest in pride. Furious, Maquesta shook his shoulders. The red flecks faded, and a dazed Hvel stood looking out over the water.
"What happened to the cage?" he asked innocently. "Why are we stopped? Why are you all looking at me like that?"
Maq ignored him and whirled on the Dimernesti. "Tailonna, how long would it take you to mix up some more potions of water breathing?"
"Not long," the sea elf said. "But I likely have enough ingredients for only one." She rushed toward the armory, where the remainder of her herbs were being stored.
"Do it quickly!" Maq called after her. "I'm going after the cage." Then she wheeled on Koraf. "Get Hvel belowdecks. I want Lendle to look him over."
The minotaur half-carried the puzzled Hvel away, leaving Maq and Fritzen staring at the water.
"Let me go after the cage," the half-ogre offered. "I've faced the morkoth before—in his element. I know what to expect. Besides, I'm stronger than you, and that cage is heavy."
Maquesta firmly shook her head. "This task is mine. I have to do this." Her shoulders sagged. "And we were so close. How could this have happened?"
Fritz stood behind her and wrapped his arms about her waist. "We're not undone yet, but you'll have to give in to me this time. There is no way you can bring up that cage."
"Neither could you," she retorted, spinning and releasing herself from his arms. "Not even you are that strong. But I could use your help up top. Lendle has a collection of winches and pulleys down in the hold. I've seen them lying around next to his oar engine. If you could get them rigged up, anchored off the aft deck, I could hook a couple of cables to the cage and we could pull it up."
Fritzen stroked his chin in contemplation. "What if the cage has broken open, Maquesta? What if the morkoth is free?"
"Then we are undone," she said softly. "My father will die, and Ilyatha will never see his daughter again. But I'll not let another sailor die on this quest."
"Thebeastisfree?" Lendle hurried up behind them and poked his head through the aft rail. "Everyoneistalkingaboutthemorkothescaping."
"Temporarily escaping," Tailonna said, as she approached, holding up a vial. "Enough for one potion, and not a large one at that. I suspect this won't last you more than a few hours."
Maq stepped away from Fritz and took the vial in her trembling hand. "It will have to be enough, then." She downed the mixture in one gulp, made sure her short sword and dagger were firmly hooked to her belt, then vaulted over the railing and plunged into the choppy water below.
Tailonna glanced at Fritzen and Lendle. "I'm going with her," she said. Then the sea elf was gone, too.
The gnome peered over the railing to watch their forms disappear as they swam deeper.
"Ihaveabadfeelingaboutthis," Lendle jabbered.
The half-ogre tapped him on the shoulder, nearly sending the startled gnome into the sea, too.
"Winches and pulleys?"
The gnome nodded and led Fritzen into the hold.
The water became colder the deeper Maquesta swam. Her tunic was plastered against her skin, making her movements awkward, and after several yards she tugged off her sandals and let them float away. She felt the water move in and out of her nose, deep into her lungs. It was an odd sensation, but the potion was working, and Maq was amazed that she was breathing water as if it were air.
Dark shapes loomed up below her. Rock formations, a small coral reef, the wreck of an old ship. She batted her eyes and pumped her legs harder, her efforts carrying her deeper still. Another wreck came into view, and another. She gritted her teeth. The morkoth had chosen the center of the Blood Cup to make its move. These waters were rumored to be filled with all manner of aquatic life, lured by the empty husks of once-proud caravels, schooners, warships, and carracks. Divers who sought out the Cup to harvest the riches of the hulks were rarely successful. Most succumbed to attacks from bullsharks.
Sharks were the least of Maquesta's worries now. In fact, Maq didn't see any fish at all. Wait! There was one bullshark, a massive one. It lazily swam over the largest wreck, probably searching for food. That explained the lack of smaller fish, Maq decided. Bullsharks would try to eat anything smaller than themselves.
Trying to keep a good distance from the large shark, Maquesta hovered several yards above the sea floor and peered through the gloom, trying to find the morkoth's cage. All she could see was the graveyard of unfortunate ships and rocky spirals reaching upward amid them. Judging where the cage might have gone down before the Perechon could stop, she started swimming forward, skirting the ships, suspecting the cage might lie beyond them. With each stroke she prayed the cage was intact. If the morkoth was free, it could be hiding in any one of these rotting vessels—or it could be swimming as far away and as fast as its tentacles would take its ugly body.
As her half-elven eyes became more accustomed to the darkness, Maquesta began to pick out details. Most of the ships had sat on the bottom for decades. The barnacles and algae that flourished on their sides were thick and covered up the names on their hulls. Broken masts pointed in all directions, as if the sea floor were a giant pin cushion. Rotting pieces of sails fluttered from some of the masts, looking like ghosts hovering in the water.
The Golden Sailfish, Blood Sea Bounty, Felicia's Dream, and Red Roland were some of the names she could discern on the more recent wrecks. Perhaps victims of the Blood Sea imps, she mused, as her course took her around the edge of the graveyard and to a sloping coral ridge just beyond. Fortunately the morkoth had not hypnotized Hvel at night, when the imps are about, she thought.
Something brushed up against Maquesta's legs, and she drew her dagger, twirled in the water, and stopped herself from stabbing forward with the blade. Tailonna hovered there. The sea elf pointed toward the coral ridge. Maquesta followed the Dimernesti's gaze and spotted the outline of the cage, just over the edge of an embankment. Squinting, Maq could tell the morkoth was still inside. But it was getting some help to get free.
No! Maquesta's mind screamed, as she kicked her legs furiously to take her closer to the coral ridge. A squid, apparently under the control of the morkoth, was hard at work on the bars, trying to pry them apart with its tentacles. The morkoth was assisting it, using its tentacles to do the same.
Maquesta's eyes grew wide as she watched the bars start to bend. The sea elf shot past h
er, propelling herself at the squid, and hitting the creature's bulbous body, pushing it away from the cage and impaling it on a jagged finger of coral. Maquesta swam faster, too, her lungs aching from the exertion. She held the dagger in her teeth and dived toward the cage. As she landed on the ridge by the cage, the sharp edges of the coral bit into her feet. Ignoring the pain, Maquesta drew her short sword, moved forward, and thrust the blade through the bars to keep the morkoth back. She examined the bars that were swelled outward. Not enough space to let the morkoth slip through, she decided, though more than enough space for a tentacle to slip out.
She glanced over her shoulder to see Tailonna finish off the dying squid. Another was moving slowly toward Maquesta and the cage, and the sea elf started shooing it away, like one might chase a naughty dog.
Maquesta looked at the morkoth, then let her gaze drift upward and to the south, where she vaguely made out the image of the Perechon's hull. The bullshark was hovering under the ship now, probably curious.
You're coming back with us, she thought, as she gazed malevolently at the caged morkoth. There'll be no more of your tricks. You can try them on Lord Attat for all I care. But first, she added to herself, we've got to get you out of this cage so you can swim free. There's no reason you should be confined in this terrible cage.
Maquesta's eyes were flecked with red, mirroring the eyes of the morkoth. The creature hovered within the confines of its cage, its tentacles tracing patterns of bubbles in the dark water.
Maq watched the bubbles for several moments, then she pushed herself off the coral ridge and floated to the top of the cage. The solder on the bars was likely the weakest there, she decided, as she hooked her legs between the bars for support and started to work on the metal with her dagger. The tip of her weapon broke off, but the rest of the blade was still strong.