Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles (8 page)

 
          
When
the sea elf appeared back on deck in late afternoon, Mik avoided her. Ula took
this in stride, and proceeded to mingle with the ship’s crew—even lending a
hand with the ongoing chores. Clearly, she knew her way around a boat, though
her presence seemed to cause as much distraction as help.

 
          
Mik
double-checked his headings and set the crew to taking depth readings, not
wanting to come upon any reefs or submerged shoals unaware. He also kept a
lookout aloft at all times.

 
          
Mostly
this duty fell to Trip, as the kender actually enjoyed sitting atop the mast.
Additionally, with Trip in the rigging, the rest of the crew didn’t have to
watch over their small possessions quite so diligently.

 
          
Trip
scanned the horizon as much as he watched the seas ahead. He constantly
reported interesting flocks of birds, or the distant spouts of whales, or the
clowning of pods of black and white Turbidus dolphins.

 
          
At
dusk, Trip spotted a storm system on the western horizon. Mik eyed the gale
carefully until dark, and then watched its lightning flashes late into the
evening. He knew the further north they sailed the more treacherous the weather
would become. Few ventured into the depths of the
Turbidus
Ocean
at summer’s end, and fewer still returned
to tell the tale. The chances of
Kingfisher
being swamped or wrecked if a typhoon hit them were high—and such storms moved
faster than any ship could sail.

 
          
Mik
considered adjusting their course, but a quick consultation with Meinor
convinced him to keep the tiller steady. The sea remained clear of reefs through
the night, and depth readings confirmed that they were sailing into ever deeper
parts of the northern
Turbidus
Ocean
.

 
          
Mik
rose before dawn once more, and sneaked a quick glance at the black diamond
while Ula slept. The sea elf had been up late the previous evening, chatting
guardedly with the crew and—once—even approaching Karista Meinor.

 
          
Whatever
Ula had said, though, Karista soon retreated with Bok to her cabin. The look of
frustration on the sea elf s face told Mik she'd made no progress with the
singleminded aristocrat. Mik had retired at that point as well, and not wakened
when Ula returned to her berth.

 
          
She
did not stir that morning as he locked the diamond artifact back in his sea
chest once more.

 
          
The
salt breeze had shifted during the night, and now blew in strong from the
west—where the immense thunderstorm still clung to the horizon. The waves began
to pile up upon themselves, growing larger until their peaks danced away in
sprays of white mist.

 
          
Kingfisher
ran before the wind all that
day. Karista and Bok fussed around the deck, nervously awaiting the outcome.
Ula walked from stem to stem—alternately peering toward their hidden
destination, and the pursuing storm.

 
          
As
dusk drew near, Trip began jumping up and down on the sparring so vigorously
that Mik feared he might topple off the mast.

 
          
“I
see them!” Trip called. “I see the Dragon Isles!”

Within Sight

 
         
All
movement on deck ceased, and ^ many sailors stood and peered over the forward
rails. Karista, Bok, and Ula went to the bow as well.

 
          
Mik
shouted up to Trip.
“Where away?”

 
          
“Five degrees to port!”

 
          
“But
that’s not the course you’ve charted, captain,” Karista called.

 
          
“We’re
on the course laid out by the stars,” Mik replied, testily.

 
          
“Will
you believe an ancient prophecy, or the eyes of your lookout?” Ula asked. Mik
shot her an angry glance, and she chuckled.

 
          
“The
elf is right, captain,” Karista said. “If we can see the isles, we should steer
straight for them.”

 
          
“You’re
sure about the heading, Trip?”

 
          
“Positive, captain!”

 
          
“All
right,” Mik said. “I trust Trip’s eyes more than I do writing on an old piece
of paper. I’ll set our course by his sighting.”

 
          
He
brought the helm around, and soon those on deck saw the tips of blue-green
islands jutting out of the pale mist on the horizon. The Dragon Isles glittered
like gems amid a turquoise sea.

 
          
The
crew laughed and congratulated themselves. Trip continued to jump up and down
excitedly atop the mast. Karista even kissed Bok on the lips. Only Ula stood
quietly against the stem rail. A knowing smile played across the sea elf s
beautiful face. Her odd demeanor worried Mik.

 
          
Tales
of vast wealth, nearly within their reach, ran through the ship like wildfire.
Soon, every hand not otherwise occupied had assembled on deck for a glimpse.

 
          
“The
isles are exactly the way I remember them,” old Poul said. He wiped a tear from
the comer of his eye with one wizened hand.

 
          
An
occasional flash of brilliance high in the distant air caused the onlookers to
gasp and point. Trip gave a whoop and nearly toppled out of the rigging.

 
          
“Dragons!”
the crew whispered with a mixture of awe and fear.

 
          
“I
thought the metallic dragons had left Krynn,” Bok said a bit nervously.

 
          
“Only
the
good
dragons left,” Ula replied.
“None of the dragons remaining in the isles are truly evil—but even metallic
dragons have their share of rogues and renegades.”

 
          
Mik
folded his arms over his chest. “Whether ‘good’ or evil,” he said, “I doubt
that any of them have much regard for the affairs of men. We’ll steer clear of
all dragons if we can.”

 
          
Karista
leaned over the bow rail and grinned. “Look at them!” she beamed. “The isles
are within our reach! Imagine the wonders when we get there. Imagine the
wealth!”

 
          
All
evening they sailed directly for the distant peaks. By nightfall they could
make out the shapes of forests on the islands’ rocky shores and trace the
silhouettes of the towering mountains.

 
          
“We’ll
make landfall by morning!” Karista said.

 
          
Pamak
finished pulling in
Kingfisher’s
depth cable, and frowned. He cast a puzzled look at Mik. “Shouldn’t the ocean
be getting
more shallow
as we approach the isles?” he
asked.

 
          
“It
should,” Mik replied, “but maybe there’s a steep dropoff on this side of the
archipelago,” Mik said.

 
          
“Aye,”
Pamak said. “That could be.”

 
          
Secredy
Mik doubted what he’d told the big deck hand.
Kingfisher’s
captain glanced at Ula, who was still leaning against
the stern rail, smiling. Mik cursed silendy and took the tiller once more.

 
          
All
night, the storm brewing on the western horizon crept closer. It seemed of
litde import, though, since they were so close to shelter of land. Mik and his
helmsmen kept
Kingfisher’s
course
straight and true, though the darkness seemed to swallow the islands whole.
Distinguishing the isles’ shapes from clouds and shadows proved difficult in
the gloom, and they saw no lights upon the distant shores.

 
          
*
* * * *

           
“What’s wrong?” Karista Meinor
asked, as the sun rose the next morning. She pulled her silk dressing gown
around her ample curves as she came up from her cabin. “Why haven’t we made
anchor?”

 
          
“We
haven’t made anchor because we haven’t reached the islands yet,” Mik replied.
He sheltered his eyes from the morning glare and stared to the east. The
sunrise obscured the isles’ rocky forms, making them flicker and dance among
the waves.

 
          
Trip,
perched on the rail at the front of the bridge, crinkled his nose. “How can
they be to
starboard?
We steered
straight at them all night.”

 
          
Meinor
frowned.
“Well?”
she demanded of Mik.

 
          
“I
steered true all night,” Mik replied. “And the helmsman did the same on his
watch. Maybe there’s some kind of current or strange tide here that’s pushing
us off our mark.”

 
          
Ula
mounted the bridge and stood beside the captain. “Having trouble?” she asked
coyly.

 
          
Mik
frowned at her. “I’ll re-set our course,” he said to Karista. “We should still
make landfall in early afternoon.”

 
          
Karista
glanced from the captain to Ula, and then to the isles. “Very well,” she said.
“Keep me
appraised
of the situation.” She turned and went
below.

 
          
“Mik
...” Trip said from his forward perch.

 
          
“Yes,
Trip?”

 
          
“The
sky was red this morning. And that storm in the west is blowing in very fast.
If we don’t reach harbor by sunset...”

 
          
“I
know,” Mik said, “the sea elf will be the only comfortable person aboard.”

 
          
Ula,
leaning against the stem rail, laughed.

 
          
The
captain and the kender both cast a wary glance aft. Storm clouds stretched
long, dark fingers toward them and lightning licked the sky.

 
          
“We’re
close enough to the isles now,” Mik replied. “The storm shouldn’t be a problem.
Get aloft and help keep us on course.”

 
          
Trip
nodded.
“Aye.”

 
          
By
late afternoon, though, they’d drawn no nearer than they had the previous
night.

 
          
Mik
pounded his fist on the rail and cursed. “They never get any closer! How can
that be? First they were north of us,
then
they were
east, now they’re north again.”

 
          
Ula,
perched on the stem rail, smiled but said nothing. She looked westward, toward
the approaching storm. Distant echoes of thunder rolled across
Kingfisher’s
deck.

 
          
“The
depth readings are the same as last night, captain,” Pamak reported.

 
          
Karista
Meinor, who had been watching from the bridge for the past two hours, scowled.
“Perhaps, another tack is warranted, captain,” she said.

           
The aristocrat cast a glance toward
the sea elf. “I did not believe her story the other night, but perhaps she does
know the secret to reaching the isles.”

           
“Don’t trust her!” interjected Bok.
“She’s a sea-witch, that one.”

 
          
“I
don't
trust her,” Mik replied. “But it
seems we
need
her.
Ula
.
.. ?”

 
          
Ula
lowered herself to the deck and walked to the tiller, her jewel-bedecked body
shimmering in the waning light. “My price?” she asked.

 
          
“I
won’t give up my trade concession,” Karista hissed.

 
          
“I’m
not interested in that,” Ula said. “You’ll find it’s harder to establish trade
with the isles than you’d like. I want something more ... substantial.”

 
          
“A
share in the treasure of the
Prophecy ”
Mik said.

 
          
“Aye.
A share equal to the highest share—which I’d warrant
is the captain’s.”

 
          
“If
there
is
a treasure,” he added.

 
          
“I’ll
take that chance,” she replied.

 
          
“I
don’t seem to have much choice. Okay.
Done.”

 
          
Ula
smiled. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Here’s the secret: only a metallic dragon
may enter the isles unbidden,” she said. “Everyone else needs permission—or
there is one other way.”

 
          
Karista
cursed. “Riddles!” she said.

 
          
The
sea elf smiled. “You have an
artifact.
. . but
I
know how to use it.”

 
          
“Well,
don’t be coy about it.
Teh us.”
Mik’s eyes narrowed.

 
          
Ula
nodded. “Dragon Isles privateers use crystals—in many ways similar to your
black diamond—to find their way back to the isles. I believe your artifact
serves the same purpose.”

 
          
“I’ll
fetch it from my cabin,” Mik said, handing the tiller to Bok.

 
          
He
went below and retrieved the golden artifact from his sea chest. As the black
diamond brushed his hand, a vision of a temple filled with glittering diamonds
flashed through his mind. He pushed aside the images and raced back to the
bridge.

 
          
Karista’s
steely eyes focused on the golden looping key as Mik held the artifact out
toward Ula. The wind lashed at his hair, and large drops of rain began to
spatter the deck. An odd feeling made the hairs on the back of Mik’s neck stand
up.

 
          
“So,
how do I use it?” he asked.