The sea devil's eye ttfts-3

by Mel Odom

  You have no choice.

  "I will always have a choice," Jherek said.

  You came here. You are the one, the sapphire whale told him. You are the Taker's Bane. Every choice you make will be right for you and for your destiny. There is no wrong way for you to go. You have only to accept the power and responsibility that will be yours.

  "And if I don't?"

  That will be your choice, and it will be the right one.

  Jherek looked around at the dead whale and the scavengers covering it. The birds grew bolder, hissing and crying out as they closed on him. He beat them away with the flat of his blade.

  "I don't understand," Jherek said. "I won't accept anything without understanding it first."

  You have accepted the bracer, and it has accepted you.

  Jherek barely restrained his angry frustration. 'T'here was no acceptance," he claimed. "It attached itself to me."

  If it had not been time, if you had not been right, that would not have happened. Only the One may wear Iridea's Tear.

  Jherek held up his arm and the sunlight glinted off the rainbow bracer.

  "Is this thing alive?" he asked.

  No, but it will serve to help keep you living. It will shield you and be a weapon. As you become accustomed to it, you will find that you can shape it to fit your needs. Now be silent, for we must finish the Binding.

  The sapphire whale lifted its true voice in song, an ululating chorus that echoed over the water. The other whales joined in and the prickly sensation of an approaching storm blanketed the area.

  Questions flooded Jherek's frenzied mind, but before he could ask the first one, blinding pain flared along his left arm where the bracer touched him. Unable to stand, he dropped to his knees, certain that someone had set his arm on fire.

  He howled in agony and crawled toward the edge of the whale's carcass, scaring birds from his path. As the song continued, he reached the edge of the corpse and thrust his arm into the seawater, sure the wound he was undoubtedly suffering would kill him-or cost him his arm at the very least.

  After what seemed an interminable time, the pain lessened, then went away.

  Jherek drew his arm from the water expecting it to be burned clear through the flesh down to the bone. Instead, his arm seemed perfectly healthy, as if nothing had ever happened. Even the multi-colored bracer was gone.

  Not gone, the sapphire whale corrected. The Binding has been completed. You and Iridea's Tear will never be separated as long as life remains within you.

  Still on his knees, the young sailor held his bare arm up for the whale to see. Water droplets clung to his skin.

  Iridea's Tear will be your badge, Jherek Whalefriend. In time, you will come to be known by it. But there will be times that you won't want to be known at all. The Binding allows this to happen. Think of the bracer upon your arm.

  Jherek didn't want to, but once the thought was in his mind he couldn't help remembering the image.

  Crimson, scarlet, yellow, and pink strands erupted from his skin. The strands quickly wove themselves into the bracelet, again running from his wrist to his elbow, the iridescent surface showing no fractures or lines.

  The bracer can be easily hidden again when you wish.

  Jherek willed the bracer to go away, but it remained upon his arm.

  There is much you have to learn, the sapphire whale said. We will take time to teach you until you are ready to become.

  "Become what?" Jherek persisted.

  That which you are destined to be. Nothing more, nothing less.

  XVIII

  8 Eleasias, the Year of the Gauntlet

  "To me!"

  Laaqueel heard Iakhovas's thundering battle cry over the din of war even as she twisted from the path of an attacking ixitxachitl. The malenti priestess swept the barbed net from her hip and threw it at her attacker as it spun gracefully around in the ocean.

  The weighted net flared out and enveloped the ixitxachitl, sinking barbed hooks into the creature's flesh. It screamed in rage and pain. Even as the net tangled its wings, Laaqueel drove her trident deep into its body. The ixitxachitl shuddered through its death throes.

  "Most Sacred One, let me be of assistance."

  Turning, Laaqueel found one of the sahuagin warriors from the outer seas swimming toward her, his movements already registering on her lateral lines. Bleeding from several wounds inflicted by the ixitxachitl fangs, the sahuagin warrior offered her another net. Bits of flesh clung to the coral and steel barbs woven into the strands.

  "I will strip the net from this one," the warrior offered. "King Iakhovas will have need of you. The demon rays are attempting to rally their forces."

  Laaqueel accepted the net and swam for Iakhovas. She gazed around the ocean floor, studying the buildings that comprised the ixitxachitl community of Ilkanar. Ageadren was the closest ixitxachitl city, but Ilkanar was an outpost town. The tallest structure in the community was the temple, built of coral and stones by the locathah, merrow, and koalinth slaves the ixitxachitls kept.

  Iakhovas stood at the forefront of the invading sahuagin forces, ripping apart his foes with trident and claws. Corpses littered the city, including ixitxachitls and the slaves who hadn't quickly chosen sides. Iakhovas's wrath was unforgiving. As the invading army rolled through the resistance put up by the demon rays, the slaves scattered in full revolt, driven before sahuagin who would kill them if they tried to flee.

  The oceans' currents darkened with blood.

  Even as she drifted down and took her place at Iakhovas's side, he glanced up at her. Gold gleamed in his eye socket.

  "Ah, little malenti, come to join the celebration?" he said, holding a bloody chunk of dead ixitxachitl out to her.

  "I came to fight at your side."

  A cruel smile twisted his lips in both his human and sahuagin guises as they flickered back and forth in Laaqueel's vision.

  "As you can see," he said, "there are many who believe in me these days-many ready to fight at my side. I searched for believers, little malenti, and they have found me."

  Feeling the spongy surface below the layer of sand at her feet, Laaqueel drove her trident down. Blood spewed up and the ixitxachitl crouched in hiding there flapped in pain. The malenti priestess slit its belly with a talon and watched it swim away to die.

  Sharks and sahuagin finned by overhead, chasing all that fled before them that weren't of their kind. It was a whirling maelstrom of slaughter, a true vision of sahuagin power and savagery the like of which Laaqueel had never seen before. By rights, by her heritage, she should have been in bliss-or in a blood frenzy as so many of her brethren were-but she wasn't.

  "What about you, little malenti?" Iakhovas asked. "Why do you fight?"

  "I live to serve you," she answered. Fear filled her as she gazed at him, knowing he had the power to see through her and the lies she told.

  "But do you believe?" Iakhovas asked. "Do you believe in me, or do you fight only to save your own life?"

  Laaqueel gazed around them, aware of the fighting taking place. Sahuagin invaded buildings on either side of the thoroughfare, yanking ixitxachitls out and putting them to death where they found them. The slaves died as well. There was no rescue.

  Even though the temple stood in the city, very few ixitx-achitl priests stood against them. The sahuagin priestesses fought them spell for spell and emerged victorious even if they had to swim over the bodies of those who'd gone before them.

  "I believe," Laaqueel replied, "as best as I am able."

  She waited, thinking he was going to strike her down where she stood. Over the past few days, he'd been distant from her while plotting his intricate conspiracies.

  "In Sekolah or in me?" he asked.

  "In my eyes," Laaqueel answered, "you and the Shark God are equal. How could I believe in Sekolah's teaching if I didn't believe in you?"

  If the Shark God had cared at all about what she did or thought, the malenti knew she'd have been struck down in that moment for
the words of sacrilege she spoke. Instead, she prepared herself for the blow she fully expected from Iakhovas.

  He gazed at her for a long time, as if the battle raging around them didn't exist. A disemboweled ixitxachitl drifted by them. Iakhovas angrily swept it away. His living eye showed malignant black as he surveyed her.

  "You have changed, little malenti."

  "We are all changed."

  "I have grown and become more powerful."

  "And I have become less so?" Laaqueel asked.

  "No, it's not that…" Iakhovas waved the sahuagin warriors behind them onward. He paused to glance briefly at the carnage that was reaped in his name, grinning broadly enough to reveal the fangs that filled his sahuagin mouth as well as his human one. "It's just that I've never seen you without vision."

  "I don't understand," Laaqueel responded.

  "When I first met you all those years ago," Iakhovas said, "when I first saw you, I saw the hunger for power within you. It filled every fiber of your being, little malenti, a force so wild and powerful that for a moment I was afraid- tempted to kill you outright instead of using you."

  Laaqueel stood in the middle of the battle waiting patiently. There was nothing she could say. Emptiness swallowed her emotions save for a trace of fear that kept her reactions on the edge.

  "I thought I could control that hunger," Iakhovas went on, "so I let you live. In mastering you, though you may not see it that way, I shaped and strengthened that hunger in you."

  Shame swept through the malenti priestess because she knew Iakhovas spoke the truth.

  "I remember the way you stood up to King Huaanton after we brought Waterdeep to its knees." Iakhovas closed his fist, and it was at once human and sahuagin. "It was something you would have never done had I not entered your life."

  Screams punctuated his words.

  "I know," Laaqueel said, only because she knew some response was necessary.

  "You would have tried to kill him for going against Sekolah's will."

  "Yes."

  "Then, only a few days ago, two priestesses who would have done harm to you were struck down before you."

  Laaqueel knew that was a sore point for Iakhovas. Even though he'd questioned her at length about it, she'd been able to offer no reason why that had happened. That she had no explanation also undermined her own confidence. She didn't know why she couldn't believe Sekolah had acted on her behalf, but she didn't.

  "At this point, little malenti," Iakhovas said, "I would think that your hunger would be about to consume you, that you'd want to stretch your talons and see how deeply you could cut into the world."

  Laaqueel eyed him levelly and said, "To cut any deeper in this world I'd have to step from your shadow, and that would be dangerous."

  For a moment Iakhovas held her gaze, then he tilted back his head and laughed. The deep, roaring bellow echoed through the ixitxachitl outpost, riding on the swirling currents that followed the path of the battle.

  "Ah, little malenti, in truth, I had not thought about that. You think you have risen as far as you can go?"

  "Yes," Laaqueel answered without hesitation. It was the truth.

  "Then you truly have no vision," Iakhovas stated. "Before I am done, I will rule Toril. I will conquer its oceans and coastal lands, then I will find a way into the tender heart of the surface world. I will become the greatest emperor Faerun-and beyond-has ever known."

  "And will you be needing an empress?" Laaqueel challenged.

  Iakhovas grinned cruelly. "No, little malenti."

  "Then what am I supposed to envision for myself?"

  Iakhovas was silent for a time. "Perhaps you are right. I miss the way you were, but should I see those hungry lights in your eyes again, I'll know to guard my back."

  Laaqueel crossed her arms over her breasts and asked, "Do you fear me then?"

  Cold anger froze Iakhovas's features. "You go too far," he warned.

  "Yet you think I don't go far enough."

  "Don't ever make that mistake."

  Laaqueel shook her head. "What you saw in my eyes when we met wasn't just a hunger for power," she told him, "it was desperation. When I feel desperate, I've found I can do almost anything I need to do."

  "And do you feel desperate now, little malenti?"

  "No," she said quietly, again telling the truth. "For now, I only feel hollow."

  "Perhaps," Iakhovas admitted, "that is a good thing. I will work to instill that hunger in you again, though. I want you to be all that you might be, Most Sacred One."

  Laaqueel didn't know what to say. She sensed truth in his words, and that he cared about her in his own way.

  "Come," he said after a time. "We have a war to win."

  He leaped up and swam through the water, heading for the thick of the diminishing battle.

  With nothing else to do, Laaqueel followed.

  "To me!" Iakhovas cried with savage glee as he descended on the last rallying point of the ixitxachitl at Ilkanar. With all the priestesses around, he used his magic without fear, making sure no one could trace the efforts back to him.

  The ixitxachitls holed up in the temple, holding their own at the doors and windows. Sahuagin clung to the stone walls with their claws, slashing savagely at any demon ray that stayed in the open too long.

  Iakhovas battled through ixitxachitls that had been luckless enough to be caught out in the open. His attention riveted on the temple for a moment. Gold gleamed in his scarred eye socket and a thin green ray, almost lost in the swirling blue-green of the sea, stabbed toward the temple.

  Without warning, the temple tower's base glowed green. In the next instant the glowing section of the tower turned to fine black dust. Shorn of part of its mooring, the tower fell to the ocean bed. It stretched out far enough to crush two more buildings, then threw a cloud of sand into the water. The hollow thump echoed, followed immediately by the clattering of stones as the temple went to pieces.

  Laaqueel stared in disbelief. The ruined tower had killed not only most of the ixitxachitls hiding inside, but a large number of the sahuagin who'd been clinging to the walls.

  The tower's destruction signaled the end of the battle. Dozens of demon rays remained, but they fled for their lives, only making the sahuagin and sharks chase them farther to kill them.

  "To me!" Iakhovas cried, holding his trident triumphantly overhead. "I have brought you yet another triumph, as I promised."

  "Long live King Iakhovas the Deliverer!" someone yelled.

  The rest of the sahuagin quickly took up the cry. They slapped their feet against the silt-covered streets of the fallen ixitxachitl outpost, slammed their tridents against the stone walls of the buildings holding only dead and dying, and gave voice to clicks and whistles pledging their support.

  Laaqueel kept her silence and her distance. Only she knew the truth of the beast the sahuagin had clutched to their breasts.

  "Long live King Iakhovas the Deliverer!"

  Jherek flexed his left hand and gazed at the brown skin of his arm, then he closed his hand and visualized the multi-colored bracer covering it. In the space of a heartbeat, the magic armor leaped through his skin and wrapped around his arm in a blur of color. It sparkled in the sun that shone down on Steadfasfs deck.

  "Do you feel it?" Tarnar asked. The captain stood across from Jherek, sword in his fist.

  "No," Jherek replied.

  In the seven days that had passed since recovering the Great Whale Bard's gift, not a minute had gone by that the young sailor hadn't thought about Iridea's Tear.

  "No extra weight?" the Cormyrean Freesail captain asked.

  "No."

  "Not even now, when it is manifested upon your arm?"

  Jherek shook his head. "It's like it's a part of me," he said. "It's no more noticeable than the hair on my arm."

  The caravel stood at anchor at a small cove south of Altumbel. They'd been met by a dozen caravan wagons manned by warriors who swore allegiance to the Simbul, the queen of A
glarond. Steadfasfs cargo was parceled out among the wagons even as the caravel's crew took on the goods the caravan had carried overland from Velprintalar, the closest thing to a port city Aglarond had.

  Pirate activities in the eastern waters north of Aglarond had increased. Having no regular standing navy and only a small, desperate army, the Simbul had made arrangements with the merchants in Cormyr to avoid the waters with the overland caravan and make the exchange along the southern coast. It wasn't a tactic that would last long, but trapped as Aglarond was between Altumbel and Thay, the realm still needed the glass, iron, and food the merchant ships brought to trade for lumber, gems, and copper.

  The southern coastline of Aglarond was harsh and uneven. Cliffs overlooked the Alamber Sea, broken only by the treacherous trails the wagoneers had used to descend to the rocky shore. Trees grew almost out to the sea's edge, kept at bay only by the saltwater that drenched the ground.

  Foresters manned the wagons. All of them were hard-eyed men with the gruff manners of warriors constantly marching off to battle. They bore scars and memories, and their songs at night held sadness for things lost as well as hope for a brighter tomorrow.

  Some of the wagons bore coast boats that many of the surrounding pirates feared. Though the coast boats were open, equipped only with lateen sails, oars, and poles, a group of them could grapple and board ocean-going vessels to kill pirate crews. According to Tarnar, they'd done that several times in the past.

  For the last two days, only a ghost of a wind had threaded along the rocky coast, not enough to allow them to put out to sea. Jherek had spent most of that time with the captain.

  "It's a wonderful thing you've been given, Jherek," Tarnar said.

  "But I ask myself why." The question had plagued Jherek's mind constantly.

  "Sometimes," Tarnar said softly, "things are meant to be accepted, not understood. So we practice, and the whales talk to you here, giving you what information they have. What follows will follow."

  "I want to be back with my friends."

  Tarnar grinned and said, "Good. Maybe that is a step in the right direction." He lifted his sword. "Prepare yourself."