Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles (35 page)

 
          
Lord
Kell kept careful watch on the crew of the
Red
Wake
and on his own galley, trailing close behind them.

 
          
Karista
Meinor stayed close to Lord Kell, speaking to him in hushed tones and
frequently looping her arm around his. Mik thought that even without the
treasure, she had a pretty fair chance of landing her trade deal.

 
          
Ula
kept watch on Kell and his ship, and scanned the storm-tossed skies for signs
of Tanalish or other dragons. The sea elf seemed edgy and full of energy. “I
hate waiting,” she told Mik. “I’d rather fight my way to a treasure than hang
around a ship.”

 
          
Mik
nodded. “You may soon get your wish.”

 
          
For
a day and a half they traveled east. They’d passed beyond all sight of land
now, though they were still within the protective influence of the Veil.

 
          
“Look
at the storm,” Jerick said, pointing east to a towering bank of thunderheads.
“That’s where the Veil ends.”

 
          
Mik
squinted into the black clouds. “I see the island,” he said. “It’s almost the
same color as the clouds.” He pointed, and Jerick followed with his eyes.

 
          
“Aye,”
he said, a faint smile cracking his red beard.
“Can’t say I
like the look of the place.”

 
          
“You’ll
like the look of its treasure, though,” Mik replied.

 
          
“Aye.”

 
          
By
mid-afternoon they’d drawn close to the island’s rocky shores. The Isle of Fire
was a volcanic peak jutting nearly straight up out of the surging sea. Its
almost sheer sides were black, craggy, and unforgiving. Only at the very bottom
did a few sparse copses of vegetation cling to its meager shore. The eastern
side of the mountain had fallen away, leaving a large V-shaped gully in the
side of the escarpment. A faint red glow emanated from within the crack, making
the island look as though it peered toward the sunrise with an eerie red eye.
Within the volcano, the immense fires that had helped forge the the Veil still
burned bright.

 
          
“Where
is this supposed lost temple?” Kell asked skeptically.

 
          
“It’s
hidden,” Mik replied. “It’s been hidden for centuries.”

 
          
“If
it wasn’t,” Ula said, “someone would have taken the treasure long ago.”

 
          
“The
water is very deep here,” Jerick said.
“More than fifty
fathoms.
Are you sure diving is the right way to
proceed
?”

 
          
“The final hallowed key, Illumes the deepest
night, At lord of fire and sea, Seek pillars’ sacred might
, ”
said Karista.

           
“The Prophecy, and the visions I’ve
had, make me think we’re looking for a temple under the sea,” Mik said.

 
          
“Sacred
pillars in the deep,” Trip added smartly.

 
          
Jerick
rubbed one callused hand across his balding red pate. “Well, it’s your necks,”
he said. “I’ll set anchor and keep an eye on things.” He shouted for his men to
do so, and both his and Kell’s ship anchored well clear of the island’s
dangerous shores.

 
          
“I’ll
summon my divers,” Kell said. He moved to the rail and whistled a signal to his
brass-armored ship. A dozen warriors appeared in shell-like helmets and diving
gear.

 
          
“Oh,
no,” Mik said. “You’re not going to outnumber us down there. Pick just three
other divers besides yourself, Lord Kell.”

 
          
Kell
gazed into Mik’s brown eyes; Mik didn’t blink.

 
          
“Very
well,” Kell said slowly. “Will you be coming, milady?”

 
          
Karista
Meinor nodded. “If you will loan me a helmet,” she said. “I’ve not been able to
replenish my supply of magical seaweed.”

 
          
“And
it tasted terrible anyway,” Trip put in.

 
          
“Are
you up for it, Shim?” Ula asked.

 
          
The
bronze knight stood and slowly stretched. He’d removed his bandages, but his
shoulder didn’t seem quite healed.

 
          
Mik
worried about the dragon-man’s usefulness in a fight, but said only, “Everyone,
prepare yourselves. We’ll meet at the rail in twenty minutes.”

 
          
Kell
nodded and signaled for a longboat to ferry his equipment and two divers over
to
Red Wake
.

 
          
Mik
put on his enchanted fish necklace. He hadn’t worn it since they’d left
Aurialastican. His fingers traced the empty pockmarks where there had once been
jeweled scales. The magic felt weak and tentative. He hoped it would be enough
to complete at least one final task.

 
          
“You’re
sure this cloak of yours works, Trip?” he asked.

 
          
“Better
than your feeble old necklace,” the kender replied, pulling the serpent skin
tight around his small body. “I’ll swim circles around the rest of you.”

 
          
Kell,
Karista, and two brass-garbed warriors joined them at the rail. They all wore
uncomfortable-looking brass helmets in the shape of sea huge seashells with
clear quartz faceplates. The strange helmets complimented the design of the warriors’
sparse brass armor. Karista just wore the helmet and a brief swimming outfit,
but looked uncomfortable, nonetheless.

 
          
“Very
nice,” Ula said. “Can you actually hear or speak in those things?”

           
“Well enough,” Kell replied, his
voice sounding metallic and distant. “Thrakdar himself helped forge them; their
magic is strong. Do not worry on our account.”

 
          
Mik
nodded. “Then down, down to the briny deep, where sharks hold court and sailors
sleep,” he said, reciting an old diver’s saying.

 
          
He
was the first to step to the rail and plunge over the side.

Into the Deep

 
         
Mog
watched as a large contingent of surface creatures dropped down into his
domain.

 
          
First
came
the young ship captain, followed by the kender,
then the sea elf, a bronze knight and a brass one. Then these were followed by
a helmeted woman and two more brass-garbed swimmers.

 
          
The
dragonspawn hid
himself
behind the keel of the
galleon, lest they detect his presence. A tingling in his spine told him that
other agents of Tempest lurked nearby. Soon, he would have need of them. Soon
they would wrest the treasure from these pale, fleshy creatures and open the
Veil for their mistress.

 
          
Then
Glorious Tempest would invade the Dragon Isles, and Mog and his kin would feast
on the flesh of humans and elves.

 
          
As
the divers moved away from the ship and sank into the deep, Mog left his hiding
place and followed—cautious to remain out of sight.

 
          
* * * * *

 
          
Mik
led the treasure hunters into the depths. The sea water quickly faded from
clear as glass, to blue, indigo, and then black. Mik and Trip’s magic-assisted
eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom. The water-born senses of Ula and Shimmer
needed no such aid.

 
          
Nor did the fish living in the dark waters.
Many sported huge
eyes to navigate and find their prey. Others had grown their own lights, for
purposes of mating or communication. The black waters twinkled with their
presence—a starry sky within the ocean deep. A barrelmouth shark swept past; it
looked fierce, with jaws wide enough to swallow a man, but Mik knew it was
harmless. Barrelmouths had no teeth and fed only on tiny shrimp.

 
          
Without
warning, light burst around them. Mik blinked and whirled, his scimitar in his
hand. It was only Kell and his warriors, though. Small gems set atop their
brass helmets shone with bright white light.

 
          
“Put
those bloody things out!” Ula hissed. “Do you want everything down here to know
we’re coming?”

 
          
“Dim
them,” Mik added. “There isn’t anything to see here anyway. What we want is on
the bottom
—the deepest night
—and
that’s still a long way down.”

 
          
Kell
ordered his warriors to turn off their lights and did the same himself. They
left Karista’s light on but dimmed it to a dull red glow. The aristocrat
sweated uncomfortably within her metal helmet, even though the artifact’s
powerful magic protected her from the cold and pressure of the deep.

 
          
Several
times, the brass warriors spun to face something flashing through the water,
only to discover it was merely Trip in his sea serpent cloak. The kender swam
rings around the rest of them, like a playful dolphin.

 
          
“I’ll
admit,” Ula whispered to Mik, “that cloak is impressive.”

 
          
They
snaked down ever farther into the deep. The blackness closed in around them as
the luminous sea life grew progressively less numerous.

 
          
“Is
anyone else cold?” Karista asked, her teeth chattering. “I feel strangely
cold.”

 
          
One
of Kell’s warriors took a moment to adjust the position of a dial which
controlled the spell on the aristocrat’s helmet. “Thank you,” Karista said.
“That’s much better.”

 
          
* * * * *

 
          
Mog
knew his time had almost come. The small Turbidus leech attached to his spine
wriggled and burned as the dragonspawn sent out his telepathic call.

 
          
The
message summoned Tempest’s other minions lurking inside the Veil. They came
swiftly—sharks, razorfish, and other evil fish—all trailing the tiny Turbidus
leeches with which Tempest poisoned and controlled their minds. Mog felt them
connected to him as he was connected to her.

 
          
When
the mistress came, she would release thousands of her beloved Turbidus leeches.
They would swarm the tepid waters of the Dragon Isles and make the denizens of
the islands their own. Legions of creatures would join her blackhearted troops:
humans, elves,
minotaurs
. Some had fallen already;
soon all would be hers.

 
          
Mog
reveled in the presence of his allies. He pictured them swarming through the
seas, following him to batde. He imagined the blood of their enemies staining
the seas red. He relished the hot, salty taste of his victims’ vital fluids.

 
          
He
longed for this pleasure. Perhaps it was
not
too soon to sample it. Slowly he drew closer to his prey, looking for a
straggler—a weakling who could slake his thirst Acid saliva ran across his
fangs and made his black tongue tingle.

 
          
He
chose a victim and waited for the moment to pounce.

* * * * *

 
          
“I
see the bottom!” Trip called back to the others. He swung low over the seabed
before arcing back up to his friends. “There’s a huge canyon—but I don’t see
any sign of a temple.”

 
          
“Perhaps
the temple is within the canyon,” Kell suggested.

 
          
Trip
held his kender treasure finder out before him. He moved it back and forth over
the course they might take. As it passed the canyon, the necklace began to spin
wildly.

 
          
“Something’s
down there, all right,” Trip said.

 
          
“Are
we going to trust that dubious magical device?” Karista Meinor asked.

 
          
“I
see no other course,” Kell replied.

 
          
Trip
beamed. “I’ll scout ahead.”

 
          
“Stay
out of trouble,” Mik said.

 
          
The
kender nodded and sped down into the canyon.

 
          
“You
and your people go first, Vardan,” Kell said. “We’ll turn up our lights and
follow behind so as not to obscure your vision.”

 
          
Mik
nodded, and he and Ula darted ahead with Shimmer just behind. The bronze knight
swam more slowly and less gracefully than he had before his wounding by
Tanalish. Kell came next with Karista at his side. The two brass warriors
brought up the rear.

 
          
The
walls of the undersea canyon sprang up around them—towering cliffs disappearing
into the indigo waters both above and below. Fissures pockmarked the sides of
the defile. Some of these bubbled with hot water and brackish clouds that
looked like black smoke.

 
          
Strange
undersea creatures swam past them as they ventured into the deep canyon: white,
eyeless shrimp as big as a man’s hand; long, luminous eels whose guts they
could see inside the fishes’ transparent bodies; hideous sharptoothed fish that
seemed all head and eyes and no body; a slender octopus that flashed with the
colors of the rainbow, and tiny clouds of orange-white krill. A redtip shark
dipped down from above, but darted away when Kell’s people turned their lights
on it.

 
          
Trip
reported back at regular intervals, though his findings consisted mainly of,
“More canyon. I’m sure we’re going the right way, though.”

 
          
Gradually,
the canyon ceiling began to close over them. Black, jagged coral sprang from
the pockmarked walls and knitted together like huge knotted brambles. Long,
pale seaweed intertwined with it, forming an impassible wall of spikes and
tangled netting.

 
          
Karista
glanced around nervously. “Much farther and we shall find ourselves trapped.”

 
          
“We
can always return the way we came,” Mik replied.

 
          
As
they swam cautiously forward, the bottom of the canyon loomed into view. It,
too, was covered with the strange thorny coral and pale weeds. As the canyon
closed in around them, they felt as though they were swimming down the gullet
of some thorny aquatic beast.

 
          
They
passed huge, carved columns, each as large as Kell’s galley, lying broken among
the weeds and spikes. They also saw the skeletons of ancient ships poking out
amid the wreckage.

 
          
Ahead,
the living tunnel opened up into the vast, dark sea once more. Beyond the
opening loomed a pale shape of towering pillars, curving walls, and domes.

 
          
“The undersea
Temple
!”
Mik crowed.

 
          
They
swam ahead heedlessly as the canyon walls closed in around them. Soon, the
divers were passing through a narrow tunnel of pale weeds and sharp black
coral.

 
          
Something
blocked their way. It was ethereal, cloudlike, and huge. The pallid form
obscured the shapes of the temple behind it, while not blotting out the
architecture entirely.

 
          
“A jellyfish?”
Trip asked.

 
          
Ula
shook her head. “It’s not one creature,” she said, focusing her keen elven eyes
on the thing. “It’s
many
. ”

 
          
“Crabs!”
Shimanloreth said.

 
          
Tiny
albino crustaceans swarmed over them, pinching and biting. The creatures were
only the size of a child’s ear, but had oversized serrated pincers on their
eight limbs, and wicked beaklike mouths. The four eyes atop the stalks on their
thorny heads glowed with an eerie green light. The movement of the school made
an unnerving clattering sound, like knives running across old bones. The crabs
paddled swiftly with their oarlike legs, surrounding the divers like a school of
piranha. They wheedled their way under clothes and between cracks in armor. The
treasure hunters swatted at them, but there were just too many.

 
          
“Fall
back!” Kell cried. “Split up! They can’t follow us all.”

 
          
“No!”
Mik countered. “Stay together! Work together!” He and Ula swam back to back,
protecting each other. Shimmer went with them, but the cloud of crabs forced
him apart from the others.

 
          
Kell
and his warriors quickly vanished back into the darkness, their cries of
frustration and pain drifting through the deep.