by James Wyatt
Breddan studied the map for a moment. “I do not know the Basin that far south,” he admitted. “I’m not sure reliable charts exist for those waters. What I do know is this-the waters of the Phoenix Basin are deep, and many dangerous creatures make their lairs in its depths. Assuming we do not feed a dragon eel, we should make it most of the way in … hmm, fifty-four days. Then we must negotiate the shallow waters near your destination.”
“I had estimated two months,” Janik said. “I’m glad we agree.”
“And then what? Will you want me to wait at anchor for you to complete your task and return?”
Janik was taken aback. He hadn’t given any thought to what would happen after they returned from Mel-Aqat. He had no idea what might await them in the ruins, no clue how long it would take to find what they were looking for-whatever it was-and no inkling what to do when they found it.
“I … don’t think so,” he said slowly. “It will take us another two months to cross the Wasted Plain, here, to reach our destination. I really don’t know how long we’ll be gone-and of course, there’s always the possibility we just won’t come back.” He noticed that Dania was listening with keen interest, but he avoided her eyes. “I think it will be best if you drop us off and then return to Stormreach and spend your earnings.”
“I am not a spendthrift,” Breddan said. “But neither am I excited at the prospect of spending four months or more at anchor in the Phoenix Basin. I will return without you. But if I might ask, how will you get back to Stormreach?”
“How big is your ship?” Dania interjected. “Could we carry a keelboat aboard, use it to put ashore, hide it somewhere, and then use it to come back along the coast?”
“My ship carries a launch already,” Breddan said. “We could replace it with something more seaworthy-assuming you are willing to pay for such a vessel.”
“Janik, do you think that would work?”
Janik ran his fingers through his hair, thinking for a moment. “I don’t have a better plan. We might come back and find the keelboat gone, I suppose, but at least that gives us a chance of not making the journey overland. We could store supplies on it for the trip back.”
“Which means less weight on our backs through Mel-Aqat,” Dania said.
“Exactly. Well, Breddan Omaar, what price would you ask for this journey?”
The hobgoblin looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Janik could understand why. He needed money-he had said as much. And he was within reason to ask for a large sum-so large he was embarrassed to name it.
“Wait,” Janik said. He pulled a blank scrap of parchment from the sheaf of pages in his coat pocket, and found a quill and a bottle of ink in his pocket. He shoved them across the table toward Breddan. “Why don’t you show me your figures?”
Breddan accepted the parchment gratefully, scratched a few numbers in neat columns, and handed it back to Janik. “That amount would cover my expenses and pay for my time.”
Janik forced himself to keep a blank look on his face as he looked at the large sum. It was hardly extravagant-in fact, Breddan had allotted a pittance for his own wage, and had not inflated the numbers to account for the danger of the journey. Even so, it was clear to Janik why they had not traveled this way last time, when they paid for the expedition out of their own pockets. He glanced up-both Dania and Breddan were watching him expectantly. He made some further calculations in his head, then tucked the parchment into his pocket.
“I believe we have a deal,” he announced. Breddan smiled, showing his sharp teeth, and Dania actually clapped her hands in delight. “How soon can you be ready to leave, Breddan?”
The hobgoblin’s smile faded quickly, and he looked down at the table. “Ah, well,” he said. “I wonder if I might request some portion of my payment in advance. My ship needs a good cleaning and some maintenance before undertaking such a long and hazardous journey.”
“I can give you the whole sum up front,” Janik said, shrugging. “I need to pay you at the House Kundarak bank anyway, and I can’t do that at the end of our journey. Shall we say, a third of it today, and the rest on the day we leave? How long will you need?”
“A third of that sum will be perfectly sufficient,” Breddan said, bowing his head gratefully. “Would a week’s time be too long?”
“My friend,” Janik said, “your ship will save us four to six months of travel. We can afford to wait a week.”
Janik and Dania delivered the good news to Mathas and Auftane, and they all spent the next several days getting ready for the trip-gathering more supplies, rounding up some rare charts of the waters of the Phoenix Basin, and purchasing a keelboat. Janik supervised delivery of the keelboat to Breddan’s ship, Silverknife, and got his first look at the ship as the smaller boat was loaded on board. Afterward, he met the others near the docks and they walked together to Forest’s Bounty for dinner.
“When he said she was a miserable vessel, I thought it was Flamer humility,” Janik said, laughing.
“Oh, no!” Dania exclaimed. “Is it really awful?”
“Let me just say that I’m glad he delayed our departure by a week in order to clean and repair her,” Janik said.
“But it’s been five days already,” Mathas said. “Is the vessel seaworthy?”
“Oh, she’s seaworthy. Look, I didn’t mean to worry you all. It’s just-well, we’re not going on a Lyrandar galleon. We’re going to spend two months on a small, cramped, dirty ship.”
“But we all agree that’s better than six months on a keelboat, or eight months on foot, right?” Auftane said.
“Of course,” Dania said, and Janik nodded. Mathas looked unconvinced but said nothing.
The sun had faded from the sky except for a line of purple along the western horizon, silhouetting the stone buildings of the modern seaport and the crumbling ruins of the ancient giant city. High above, one moon hung proudly while seven more clustered at opposite ends of the Ring of Siberys, sliver-thin crescents in the darkening west and rounded gibbous moons in the pitch-black east. The golden motes of the Ring shone bright and clear in a wide band across the sky, larger here than it ever appeared in Khorvaire. Torches blazed along the sides of the nearly-deserted street, dancing wildly in the warm wind off the sea.
An eruption of laughter came from a group of people ahead of them, just short of an intersection. Dania’s hand shot across Janik’s chest as she stopped dead.
“I know that laugh,” she hissed.
“Krael.” The name was a growl in Janik’s throat, and he turned his gaze from Dania to the cluster of people in the distance.
He started walking again, his face set in a scowl as he tried to make out details of the people up ahead. After just a few steps, he spotted Krael, towering above most of his companions by at least a head. One other member of the group was as tall-the warforged assassin. Janik gritted his teeth. At least a half-dozen people trailed Krael-or maybe more like eight or nine. Janik had only four on his side. His heart pounded. His eyes flicked over the others-a few women, one who might have been Tierese-but he did not see Maija. He was only vaguely aware of Dania beside him, grabbing his arm, trying to slow him down, hissing something at him.
“Janik, remember-Krael’s a vampire!” she said, and finally the words penetrated the rage throbbing in his ears.
It was too late. The others had seen him approaching, and Krael’s companions were spreading out to form a wide semicircle, with Krael and the warforged, Sever, in the middle. Krael stepped forward and spread his arms in a wide gesture of welcome. His massive flail hung on his back, banging against his plate armor as he walked.
“Well, well!” the vampire called across the distance. “If it isn’t my dear friend Janik Martell!”
HOPE’S ENDEAVOR
CHAPTER 9
You got the name right, Krael,” Janik shouted back. Even as his mind screamed about the danger of walking into the semicircle formed by Krael and his allies, anger drove his feet forward, closer to his adversary.
Krael Kavarat was an enormous man, as tall and muscular as any orc, though his bloodline was pure Karrnathi human as far as Janik knew. He wore a suit of full plate armor which somehow seemed too small to contain his great bulk. He also wore the characteristic helm of an Emerald Claw officer, covering half his face with its stylized clawlike design. He was clean shaven, but blond hair cascaded over his shoulders from beneath the edge of his helm.
“And Dania,” Krael said. “Back in Janik’s company since your Sentinel Marshal met his end in Karrnath?”
“Sentinel Marshal?” Janik said quietly, throwing Dania a sidelong glance. She waved her hand dismissively, keeping her attention focused on Krael.
“It’s so nice to see you all together again. Mathas too! Aren’t you going to introduce me to the dwarf?”
“Shut up, Krael,” Janik spat. The vampire’s words stung, making Janik painfully aware that they were not all together again. He felt Maija’s absence as if it were a wound. “You sent your warforged assassin after me twice, you robbed my apartment, and stole our ship. Stop talking like you’re some long-lost friend.” Janik was close enough that he didn’t need to shout, and he could see Krael’s allies closing in on both sides. Dania was close on his right, but not close enough to get in the way of his sword arm. He heard Mathas and Auftane right behind him.
“Don’t forget that I took your Maija away,” Krael said, grinning. Then the smile vanished from his face. “Her, you can have back, as far as I’m concerned.”
“What are you here for, Krael?”
Krael gave a small shrug, but a spasm of anger on his face belied his feigned indifference. “Revenge.”
“That makes two of us, then,” Janik said, pulling his sword from its sheath in a flash of steel. Like a ripple of water, steel flashed all around the ring of Krael’s allies. Dania drew her longsword. Only Krael, Mathas, and Auftane stood empty-handed.
“You misunderstand me, Janik,” Krael said. “You are not the one I want revenge against. Although I suppose it would be pleasant enough to watch you die.”
“This is a bad idea, Janik,” Dania whispered at his elbow. “Krael is strong, to say nothing of his friends here.”
“Put those weapons away!” Several of Krael’s allies turned to see Stormreach guards hurrying up the street toward them. Janik and Krael were frozen, each waiting for the other to make a move. Around the semicircle of Krael’s Emerald Claw lackeys, a few swords and flails found their way back to belts. Glancing behind Krael, Janik could see why. Stormreach didn’t entrust the task of keeping order in the city to roughnecks pulled from the farms and dressed up in uniforms. The Stormreach guards were highly trained soldiers, mostly former officers from the armies of the Five Nations, and included some real muscle in the form of ogres and an occasional hill giant. One of those giants walked up behind Krael at that moment, and the great hulk of a vampire stood only as high as the giant’s waist. Sever, the warforged assassin, tugged at Krael’s arm, looking back at the approaching giant and his two human compatriots.
Janik felt sure that the giant and the two humans could wipe the street with him, his friends, Krael, and all the Emerald Claw thugs. But he didn’t care. He had nursed this hatred and anger for three long years. He gripped his sword tightly. He wanted so badly to plunge it into Krael’s body, to hurt and kill him and make the bastard pay for what he’d done. Janik didn’t care what happened to him in the process. It didn’t matter that Krael was a vampire, it didn’t matter that the warforged next to Krael had nearly killed him twice already, and it didn’t matter that a hill giant was standing behind Krael, lifting a tree trunk over his shoulder, getting ready to clear the street with it. He didn’t care that he couldn’t win-he just wanted to fight.
Dania still clutched her sword and Janik could feel the tension in her. He suspected she was having the same kinds of thoughts. What had happened when she met Krael in Karrnath? He realized he didn’t know, but it had stirred up the same degree of hatred in her heart, and her newfound devotion to the Silver Flame had done nothing to diminish the rage she felt toward Krael. He stole a sidelong glance at her and caught a glimpse of the fire in her eyes. She would stand behind him.
“Janik?” Mathas said. “I am inclined to believe this is not the time and place for this confrontation.”
Janik didn’t respond, but Dania shifted her stance slightly.
“I think the elf is right,” Auftane whispered. “I think we could take the lackeys, and you can leave the warforged to me, but I’m worried about the vampire. To say nothing of the giant.”
Dania turned toward Janik.
“It would be unfortunate if we were forced to harm well-meaning members of the Stormreach guard in the course of battling our foes,” Mathas added.
“They’ve got a point,” Dania said. “We’ll have our shot at Krael, I’m sure.”
“You’re right,” Janik said. “Let’s get out of here.” He shifted his sword to his left hand and slid it into its sheath while raising his other hand to point at Krael. “Some other time, Krael!” he called.
The vampire hadn’t moved, but was still staring at Janik and Dania. Janik turned his back on Krael, took Dania’s arm, and hurried down the block toward a nearby tavern. Mathas and Auftane followed. Janik refused to look back at Krael-he couldn’t stand to see that satisfied smirk again. A group of people had gathered outside the tavern door to watch the confrontation, alerted by the call of the Stormreach guard. Janik ignored their laughs and whispers and pushed through. He led his friends to a table near the raging fire, and they all sat down.
“So tell me about Karrnath, Dania,” Janik said when they all had drinks in their hands and the hubbub had died down.
Dania scowled and stared into her tankard. She was silent for a moment, collecting her thoughts, then took a deep breath. “I went there to work for a friend of my late father’s,” she said, “an exorcist of the Silver Flame named Kophran ir’Davik. He was a pompous ass, as I believe I might have mentioned before.” Mathas grinned and nodded. “Along with a Sentinel Marshal, Gered d’Deneith-”
“Krael mentioned him,” Auftane interjected.
“Yes. The three of us tried to fight the influence of evil in Atur.” She paused and sighed again. “It was a bit like trying to put out a forest fire by spitting on it. Atur has earned its nickname, the City of Night. Anyway, one evening we went to a house where every inhabitant had been brutally murdered. Blood and bodies were strewn everywhere. Gered determined that two vampires were involved, one a shifter, and one a human-well, that one turned out to be Krael. Gered and I followed a trail away from the house and encountered Krael in an alley. We talked for a little while before Gered and I realized he was one of the vampires we’d been hunting, and then-” She broke off suddenly, swallowing hard.
“He killed Gered?” Mathas said softly.
Dania breathed a deep sigh. “Not quite. He started drinking Gered’s blood, but then Kophran came back.” She took another steadying breath. “Kophran filled the alley with silver light, and that drove Krael away.” Her voice trailed off and a half smile lingered on her lips.
“What about Maija?” Janik’s voice was barely audible above the din of the tavern.
“Well, it turned out that Krael and Maija had awakened this old shifter vampire named Havoc as part of their search for the Tablet of Shummarak.”
“You mentioned that on the ship,” Mathas said. “What is that tablet?”
Janik answered the elf’s question. “It’s an important serpent text from Xen’drik, dealing with the legendary war between the dragons and the fiends in the first age of the world. Specifically, it describes how the allies of the dragons, the couatls, bound the lords of the fiends deep within Khyber.”
“Sacrificing their own physical forms to trap the fiends within their spiritual coils,” Dania added, repeating what Kophran had told her. “And supposedly the Tablet of Shummarak goes on to reveal a means by which the bonds of the couatls’ coils migh
t be broken, releasing the lords of the demons upon the earth again.”
Janik raised his eyebrows, wishing he had discussed the Tablet with Dania earlier.
“So Krael and Maija were hoping to find the Tablet and destroy the world?” Auftane asked.
“Undoubtedly part of some Emerald Claw plot,” Janik said.
“So we tried to learn more about this vampire, Havoc. He was rumored to have owned the Tablet some time before the Last War. And we managed to track him down-we found all three of them in a little shrine beneath the city. Havoc, Krael, and Maija.” She swallowed hard again. “That’s when Gered died. Maija cast a horrible spell, and he just … went out. Like pinching a candle.” She shook her head. “Kophran killed Havoc-or forced him to turn to mist, or something. I guess you can’t really kill a vampire. Maija disappeared-teleported away, I think, and Krael ran as well. Kophran figured Havoc was in charge of the operation, and insisted we take steps to finish him off. We ended up chasing a cloud of mist through half the sewers and catacombs under the city until it reached Havoc’s original crypt. Then we were able to destroy him for good, or Kophran said we had. But I didn’t see Krael or Maija again. We hunted for them for a long time, but as far as we could tell, they both left Karrnath entirely.”
“Did she … did Maija say anything?” Janik asked.
“Quite a bit, actually, considering that we were doing our level best to kill each other.”
“You fought her?” Somehow this seemed impossible to Janik. Some part of him, he realized, had long assumed that there was just some misunderstanding that would all be resolved the next time he saw Maija. That was why he had rebelled so strongly against Dania’s assertion that Maija was beyond redemption. And to imagine Dania actually trying to kill her, so convinced that Maija was lost to evil that she would take her life-his head started to swim.
“Of course I fought her, Janik.” Dania’s voice was gentle but firm. “Have you heard what I’ve been saying? She was working with a pair of vampires. She killed Gered-a Sentinel Marshal and a good man. As far as I could tell, she was trying to release the lords of demonkind and set them loose on the world. Of course I fought her.”