“Aye, captain,” the kender replied. Trip fetched several more waterskins while the crew gingerly carried the castaway into Mik’s cabin below the bridge.
The captain set up a canvas pallet in the comer opposite his hammock and they laid the sea elf s unconscious body on it. Mik and Trip knelt down at her side. Karista, Bok, and a number of other crew members waited at the doorway.
“Do you have any magic that could help?” Mik asked Karista.
“I have some remedies to relieve fever,” she replied. “I don’t know how effective they’ll be, though. I’ll fetch the herbs I need from my cabin.”
“Have the helmsman resume our previous course,” Mik said to Bok.
The big bodyguard peeled his eyes away from the elf, nodded, and went to do as Mik asked.
“Clear the cabin,” Mik said, indicating everyone else should leave. The fascinated crew members went back to their jobs as Mik and Trip tended to the castaway’s injuries.
Mik gently massaged fragrant oils into the elf s blue skin. When she finally groaned slightly, Trip put the waterskin to her lips and made her drink. As she did, the kender eyed the glittering jewelry holding her scant costume together.
“No borrowing, Trip,” Mik cautioned. “We wouldn’t want her to forfeit her modesty.”
The kender laughed, and reluctantly tore his eyes away from her jewelry.
Karista returned shortly with a silver brazier filled with burning herbs. She chanted and made passes with her hands over the injured woman—but none of them saw any obvious effect.
The aristocrat shook her head. “The magic does not work as reliably as it once did,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Mik stood and stretched. “You did your best,” he said. “We all have. There’s nothing more we can do for her now. Undisturbed rest is probably her best chance at recovery. Besides, we have work to do. Saving this poor girl cost us valuable time. It’ll take keen sailing to reach the proper coordinates by the time Paladine’s constellation rises tonight.”
“But shouldn’t we change her sunburn salve?” Trip asked.
“Later,” Mik replied. “This evening perhaps, before Paladine rises. We’ve a lot of ocean to cover before then. Let’s get to it.”
“Aye, captain,” the kender replied.
The wind was against them for most of the day Through clever sailing, though, Mik still managed to make up most of the time they’d lost.
As the sun setded behind the shoulders of the ocean, the wind shifted to the southwest, urging them on their way. Mik stood in the bow, watching the dappled red and orange reflections on the water creep into purple and indigo. He called back a final course correction to the helmsman, and then ate a brief supper with the crew on the deck amidships.
Karista and Bok took their meal below; they seldom deigned to eat with Kingfisher’s crew. Only as he washed the last of his bread down with a swig of rum did Mik notice that Trip was missing as well.
Mik found the kender, as expected, within the captain’s cabin. Trip had opened Mik’s sea chest once more, and taken out the golden artifact and the parchment with the transcribed verses of the prophecy. He sat perched on Mik’s hammock, perusing the paper and turning the artifact over in his small hands.
“Honestly,” Mik said, “I’m not sure why I bother to lock that chest.”
“I’m not sure why you bother, either,” Trip replied. “It's not a very good lock. Karista could probably open it if she had a mind to.” He dropped out of the hammock and smiled.
“How’s our patient?” Mik asked, gazing at the blue form of the castaway. Her skin looked very dark with the red light of sunset streaming through the cabin’s small windows. Mik crossed to a hanging brass lamp in the center of the room and lit it.
“Better, I think,” Trip replied. “She hasn’t woken up or moved much, though. Should we oil her bums again?”
Mik nodded. “It’s not much,” he said, “but all we can do to help her survive.”
Trip laid aside the Prophecy and the artifact, and both of them gently rubbed fragrant oil into the sea elf s blue skin. They worked silently for a while, pausing only to drip fresh water onto her pale lips. Then Trip asked, “When you look at the artifact... at that black diamond, do you... see anything.”
Mik hesitated a moment. “Like what?”
The kender screwed up his face in perplexity. “I dunno. Like a bigger diamond surrounded by treasure, maybe.”
Mik nodded and chuckled. “Never any secrets while you’re around, Trip.”
“Oh, I like secrets as much as the next fellow,” Trip said, “just not when they’re being kept from me. So . . . what do you see?”
“A storm-tossed ocean,” Mik replied. “An island. A temple. Sometimes, a treasure.” As he spoke, he continued massaging the sunburn oil into the elf s soft skin.
The woman’s eyes flickered open. “Treasure?”
Six
The Course Is Set
“You’re alive!” Trip gasped. “You’re awake!”
“Barely,” the sea elf replied, her voice diy and cracking. “Where am I?”
“You’re aboard Kingfisher in the Northern Turbidus Ocean,” Mik replied. “I’m Captain Mikal Vardan, and this is my friend, Tripleknot Shellcracker.”
“Hi!” the kender said. “My friends call me Trip.”
The sea elf tried to speak again, but only a dry rattle came out.
“Here,” Mik said, putting a skin of water to her pale, parched lips. She drank eagerly. “Who are you?” he asked. “Where do you come from?”
She smiled weakly. “My name is Ula,” she said. “I come from . . . many places. Most recently, from a ship called Golden Harvest.”
“Were you shipwrecked?” Trip asked. “How did you get tied to the raft?”
The elf woman laughed briefly, then a spasm shook her and she began to cough. “Not . . . shipwrecked,” she said when she stopped coughing. “My shipmates grew . . . tired of my company.”
Mik’s dark eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“The dragon Tempest prowls these waters,” she said. “ . . .Many ships have been destroyed. My . . . superstitious crewmates convinced themselves that I. . . was leading the dragon to them.”
“Were you?” Mik asked.
Ula shook her head.
“But why’d they tie you to the raft?” Trip asked.
“They wanted to appease the dragon.” She managed a weak chuckle. “It didn’t work.” Her green eyes fluttered shut once more.
“So the ship was destroyed?” asked the kender.
Ula didn’t reply.
“We’ll let you rest,” Mik said. “Call if you need anything.”
“All right,” she said, her eyes still closed. “I still want to know . . . about that treasure . . . though.” Her words trailed off and she drifted into sleep once more.
“What a rotten thing to do,” Trip said, “tying someone to a raft to feed them to a dragon. Probably an interesting way to die, though. Just throwing her overboard wouldn’t drown a sea elf. That must be why they tied her down.”
“Yes,” Mik said thoughtfully. “C’mon. She needs to rest.” They left a waterskin by her bed and went out through the map room onto Kingfisher’s quarterdeck.
“Any change?” Karista asked when she saw them.
Mik nodded. “She woke, briefly.”
“Did she say anything?”
“Not much,” he said.
“You think she’ll live?”
“It seems more likely now,” he replied.
“Her former shipmates cast her overboard to appease a dragon!” Trip burbled.
All around them, the crew stopped working.
“Just superstitious nonsense,” Mik said, shooting the kender an angry glance.
“How can you be sure?” Marlian asked warily.
A wry smile crept over Mik’s face. “The girl’s alive, isn’t she?”
“She said her name is Ula,” Trip ventured cautiously.
&nb
sp; Mik nodded.
“The name means nothing to me,” Karista said.
“I heard of a mercenary sailor named Ula once,” Bok replied. “She was supposed to be very dangerous.”
“If she’s so dangerous, how did she end up tied to a raft?” Karista snapped. “We’re wasting time. The blue siren isn’t going anywhere—at least for the moment. We need to he about our business.”
“Lady Meinor is right,” Mik said in a loud voice, commanding the attention of all the crew. “The stars are rising. Soon, Paladine will show the way.” He directed their attention to the constellations hovering above King- fisher's bow. “To your stations while I chart the stars and set our course.”
The crew nodded and went back to their business, the possibility of the dragon—for the moment at least— forgotten.
Mik climbed to the bridge, followed by Trip, Karista, and Bok. He took sightings on Paladine and the Heavenly Palace, and set course on a line between the two.
Kingfisher's small crew scrambled across the deck, adjusting ropes and rigging as required. Mik took the tiller and, using the verses of the Prophecy as guide, set sail through the deepening night toward the Dragon Isles.
Karista and Bok soon retired to their cabin below. Mik and Trip, though, stayed on deck, tending the tiller and watching the stars.
Getting under way on the final part of the journey buoyed the crew’s spirits. They sang as they worked—both to set the rhythm of their labors and to keep themselves awake through the long, cool night.
On a fair south wind we set to sail, blow winds blow Mid porpoise, manta, shark and whale, blow winds blow Past Chaos’ teeth we jigged around, blow winds blow ’Til treasure wreck at last we found, blow winds blow Hi-Ho!
Now haul the silver, gold and steel, blow winds blow With arms to rope and backs to wheel, blow winds blow Then home we sail with holds a-bulging, blow winds blow To drink and brawl our hearts indulging, blow winds blow Hi-Ho!
Bok materialized to complain that the singing kept his mistress awake, though Mik and Trip suspected he was merely bellyaching on his own account. The captain declined to do anything about it, and chants persisted through the darkness, as the crew kept the rigging trim and the ship in top shape.
Several hours past midnight, Mik yawned and handed the tiller to old Poul. The wizened sailor took over gladly, and whistled an old seafarer tune as he held their course.
A fragment of verse from the sea shanty echoed through Mik’s mind as he walked through the map room to his cabin.
Then down, down to the bring deep where sharks hold court and sailors sleep.
He yawned again as he opened the cabin door. What he found on the other side, shocked him back to wakefulness.
Ula, the sea elf, was awake and sitting up on her cot. In her slender blue fingers she held a folded piece of parchment and the artifact containing the black diamond.
Anger flared in Mikal Vardan’s eyes. “Where did you get that?” he snapped.
Ula regarded him calmly with her green eyes. “I found it by my bedside,” she said. “I recognized it as a very interesting piece—probably quite valuable. You really shouldn’t leave such things lying about—especially when you have unexpected guests.” She held the artifact and the parchment out to Mik.
He grabbed them, silently cursing himself. He and Trip had been so startled when the elf woke up, they’d forgotten to put the precious items back into Mik’s sea chest. Mik inwardly cursed Trip for ferreting his possessions out in the first place. He locked the diamond key and the paper away once more—putting his enchanted fish necklace in the chest as well—then turned back to the elf and forced an easygoing smile.
“I didn’t expect you up so soon,” he said.
“I heal quickly,” she replied.
“Very quickly.”
“Do you have any food around? I’m famished.”
Mik went to his sideboard, fetched some bread and cheese, and cut her some with the dagger from his waistband. “Is this all right?” he asked. “I’m not sure what sea elves usually eat.”
“On land, we eat the same things you do, mostly.”
He handed her a waterskin, which she set down on the cot beside her as she ate.
Mik watched her carefully, noting that her blue skin seemed to be healing. It was less burnt than before. She moved gracefully, even when eating, and her form and figure were among the most perfect he had ever seen. Elves were beautiful as a rule, but Ula was uncommonly lovely, even among elves.
She threw her head back, shook her long platinum- colored hair off her smooth shoulders, and took a long drink of water. As she put the skin down she sighed contentedly and said, “Maybe tomorrow, I’ll be up for something a bit stronger.”
Mik nodded, unable for a moment to find his tongue.
Ula laughed. “You look as though you need rest almost as much as I do.”
“Yes,” he said absendy. “I’ll need all my wits about me the next few days.”
“Where are you headed?”
“A place that may not exist,” he replied, “the Dragon Isles.”
“The Dragon Isles? Oh, they exist, all right,” she said.
He regarded her skeptically. “How can you be so sure?”
She yawned and lay down on her cot once more. “I lived there ... once. A long time ago.” She reached beside die cot and rescued her blanket from the floor.
“Perhaps you could help us find the place, then,” Mik said. He crossed to his sea chest, pulled out a rolled silk tapestry, and rigged it to hang down the middle of the cabin, between her bed and his hammock.
“Perhaps I could,” she said with a smile. “For a price. Everything has its price.”
“You’d have to take that up with Milady Meinor,” Mik said. “She’s financing this expedition.”
“I’d rather take it up with you,” she replied sleepily. “In the morning.”
“In the morning then,” he said.
Mik blew out the hanging lamp and retired to his hammock, but he didn’t sleep very well. His dreams were plagued by glittering diamonds, and the gemstones hanging at the sea elf s slender waist.
Seven
Omens?
“Mik! Mik, wake up! It’s nearly dawn.” The sea captain immediately recognized the kender’s small voice buzzing in his ear, but felt reluctant to open his eyes.
“Tell your pup to keep it down,” Ula called from the other side of the makeshift screen.
“I’m not a pup,” Trip said, “though I’ve had people call me a minnow before—people I like, that is. You could call me that, if I decide I like you. I did have an uncle who got turned into a dog once, though. Great Uncle Figswallow...”
“The savage deep save us from kender in the morning!” Ula cried. A muffled sound from her side of the curtain indicated that she’d pulled the covers up over her head.
Mik laughed, rolled out of his hammock, and stretched. “Sleep in if you want,” he called to Ula. “I’m sure you need the time to recover.”
She sighed. “No, I’m fine,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll feel better after my morning swim.” She rose and pulled back the curtain. “Assuming my back recovers from this cot.” She stretched her long limbs, looking very alluring, even in the dim, pre-dawn light.
“Sorry about the accommodations,” Mik said, faying not to stare. “There’s not much room in a caravel—and I doubt milady Meinor would deign to share her cabin.”
“I’d share my cabin—if I had one.” Trip shrugged.
“Karista’s gallantry ends at the point her self-interest begins, I’m afraid,” Mik added.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ula replied. “I’m used to cramped quarters. And this is a fair sight better than where you found me. Where’s that sunburn oil you’ve been putting on me?”
Mik retrieved it from a shelf nearby and handed it to her. Ula poured some oil into her hands and began to smooth it over the vast expanses of her exposed blue skin. Mik found it hard to believe that only ye
sterday she had seemed near death.
“Are you going to swim home when you feel up to it?” Trip asked.
Ula laughed—a light, musical sound. “Home—when I had one—was a long way from here. Too far to swim.” She smiled, and her eyes glinted predatorily. “You’re headed in the right direction, generally, but you’ll never get to the place in the isles where you’re headed, without my help.”
A cold chill ran down Mik’s spine. “How do you know where we’re going?” he asked.
“I read the Prophecy,” she reminded him. “And I’m no fool, Mik Vardan, though I certainly met you through foolish circumstance.”
“She knows about the Prophecy?” Trip asked, looking quizzically at Mik.
“Yes, she found the parchment and the artifact,” Mik replied irritatedly. “We forgot to pack them away in the chest before she woke up.”
Trip screwed up his small face. “Well, no harm done, I guess. Everyone on ship knows.” His brows drew together in concern. “Maybe we shouldn’t let her swim away, though. She might have friends nearby.”
“The only ‘friends’ I have nearby tied me to that raft,” Ula replied. “Besides, I’m not going anywhere until we’ve recovered that treasure.”
“She knows about the treasure, too?” Trip asked.
Mik nodded grimly.
Trip ran his small fingers through his blond hair. “Oh, yeah. It was in the Prophecy.”
“As I said,” Ula interjected, “you’ll never find the treasure without my assistance. You won’t even find the Dragon Isles. I’m willing to help, though, for a price.”
“And that price would be . .. ?” Mik asked.
“A share in the treasure—when we find it.”
“What do you need more treasure for?” asked Trip, eyeing her bejeweled costume. “It looks to me like you’re wearing plenty of treasure.”
“These old things?” Ula replied, running her slender fingers over a few of the pieces. “Looks are deceiving. My people use such trinkets as money. Steel doesn’t survive so well underwater.”
Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles Page 4
