by Mel Odom
Ladamae maintained her stance between Craugh and the red gem. “I knew about Methoss’s death, of course. How could I not? I am here, aren’t I? I have been with him for centuries, Craugh. When he slept at the bottom of the sea, where you and your friends spelled him, I did not sleep. Did you know that?”
“No,” Craugh answered.
Juhg watched the woman, wondering what she was. In all the books that he had read, he’d never seen anything like her.
“But you knew that I was inside Methoss,” Ladamae accused. “You remember how he swallowed me whole after he was changed. He couldn’t bear the thought of me being with anyone else. And he hated you for the time that I spent with you.”
Craugh said nothing, keeping his arms spread to offer no threat.
“You cut your way into the corpse to kill me, didn’t you?” Ladamae asked in a shrill voice.
Juhg feared that Craugh was going to say yes. He felt certain as soon as he did the woman would snap his neck with her tail. He kicked valiantly but couldn’t escape.
“No,” Craugh said. “I didn’t come here to kill you, Ladamae.”
The woman hesitated a little, watching him carefully. “You lie.”
“No.” Craugh regarded her, seemingly totally at ease.
“I had resigned myself to sitting at the bottom of the ocean till Methoss’s body rotted into pieces,” Ladamae said. “I didn’t know how I was going to get the gem to the surface again, but the water here is shallow enough. I had hopes of a fisherman finding me one day.” She smiled sadly. “If it weren’t for that cursed gem, I could go anywhere that I wanted to. I could have anything I wanted.”
“But that’s not how it is, is it?” Craugh’s tone wasn’t unkind, but his words were.
“You turned away from me all those years ago. Just turned and walked away and forgot about me.”
“I didn’t forget about you.”
The woman laughed and the sound carried a hint of madness.
Juhg didn’t blame her. He couldn’t imagine how it would be to lie at the bottom of the Blood-Soaked Sea for hundreds of years. Still, the last place at the moment that he wanted to be was in her clutches.
The woman cursed and pointed her blade at Craugh’s head. “Once you thought I was pretty.”
“A long time ago,” Craugh agreed. “I was foolish. Now I am not.”
Listening to the conversation and the flat way the wizard responded, Juhg knew that if he lived he was going to recommend The Language of Love by Rugahr Dahalson. Of course, he wasn’t going to mention that Rugahr had been poisoned while writing the sequel, Keeping Happiness in Your Harem.
“Now you are even more foolish,” Ladamae said. “Perhaps even pathetic.” She shook her head. “You should not have cut your way inside Methoss.”
“I had to see you.”
“Better that you had not.”
“Coming to see you seemed better than letting you simply drop to the bottom of the sea and lie there forever.”
“Many things can change,” Ladamae said. “When you can live forever.”
“Methoss,” Craugh said with a grim smile, “thought he could live forever. He couldn’t.” He paused. “Neither can you. Without protection.”
Ladamae paused to think. Juhg watched her watching Craugh with her amethyst eyes. She was cunning and savage. Juhg saw that at once.
“Why did you come here?” she asked finally.
“To strike a bargain,” Craugh said.
“Bargains are hard things, Craugh. You know that. Most times you give away more than you get, even though you think it will be the other way around or at least balance. We all took on burdens to bear when we sought after The Book of Time.”
Craugh hunted for The Book of Time? Juhg couldn’t believe his ears.
“We were all foolish then,” Craugh said.
“No,” she said. “Just greedy. In the end, we weren’t clever enough, were we? Methoss became a bearded hoar-worm like some of the others. I got trapped in that gem. We both got immortality, of course, but the cost was far more than we thought.” She looked at the wizard. “And how is it you’re still alive, Craugh? After all these years?”
“We all,” Craugh said, “had a price to pay for our part in the evil that was done when The Book of Time was brought into this world.”
If Juhg hadn’t been hanging from the woman’s lizardlike tail and fighting for every breath he took, he knew he would have been listening with bated breath. What were the secrets that Craugh had been hiding? He’d never mentioned how he’d achieved the longevity he enjoyed.
“Are you paying a price, Craugh? Truly?” The woman’s tone mocked him.
“What do you think?” Craugh asked.
“Methoss was told you had aligned yourself with the dwellers. With that precious Library of theirs. I thought that was unbelievable even though I knew you had a hand in its building. I thought you served your own purposes. Yet, here you stand. And you are searching for The Book of Time to aid the Grandmagister.”
“Who woke Methoss?” Craugh asked.
“It’s a pity you can’t ask him.”
“I’m asking you.”
“Maybe I’ll tell you.” Ladamae smiled. “And maybe I won’t.”
“Do you know a man named Aldhran Khempus?”
“Yes.”
“He doesn’t have the power required to have wakened Methoss.”
The woman shook her head. At the end of her tail, Juhg shook even more violently.
“So someone else wakened Methoss,” Craugh concluded.
“Yes.”
“Who?” Craugh demanded.
“What do I get if I tell you?”
Indecision showed on Craugh’s bearded face. “Letting you go free from this place would be a horrible thing, Ladamae.” He nodded toward the pile of bones surrounding the crimson gem. “You feast on men. I see Methoss kept you fed.”
She smiled as though embarrassed. “Methoss only caught me a few morsels now and again.”
“Tell me who woke Methoss.”
“And if I don’t?”
Craugh eyed her levelly. Inside the body of the monster, his whisper was cold and filled with threat. “Then I will kill you.”
Ladamae laughed, sounding more insane than ever. “I don’t believe you, Craugh. Not even after all that we once meant to each other—or if we only thought we meant that to each other—you wouldn’t allow me to leave this place. You can’t. Despite all the wicked things you did with us before you joined the Round and tried to forget you were ever anything but a protector of the world, you were never truly as evil as we were. You just wanted to know if you could defeat the Guardians of Time and steal their precious book. It was more a challenge to you than anything else.”
“Don’t do this,” Craugh said in a soft voice.
“If you didn’t want it to end this way,” Ladamae said, “then you would have never cut Methoss’s body open and found me.”
The tail around Juhg’s neck tightened. He would have sworn he felt his neck separating from his shoulders.
Then Craugh attacked faster than Juhg would have believed possible, swinging the staff into the woman’s tail. Juhg felt the vibration of the blow throughout his body, then the tail loosened about his neck. Using his inherent dweller’s quickness and the instinct for self-preservation, he pulled his head from inside the coil of tail and dropped to the beast’s stomach. He threw himself forward in a dive at once, sliding through the horrid fluids and striving not to think about what they were or that the woman was going to plant her sword between his shoulders at any moment.
Ladamae screamed in anger and the sound echoed and re-echoed the length of the monster’s stomach.
Juhg rolled to his feet and picked up a short sword lying nearby. He turned, ready to defend himself, expecting to see Craugh dead or dying.
Instead, the wizard battled his opponent with skill and quickness that Juhg would not have believed even if Craugh hadn’t been dead tired
from fighting the bearded hoar-worm earlier.
Ladamae swung her obsidian blade like a warrior born to the craft of swordplay. But Craugh met her at every turn with the staff, and each time the wood met the obsidian blade, green sparks showered the air.
Juhg started to go to the wizard’s aid. He pushed himself to his feet.
“Stay back, apprentice!” Craugh roared, blocking the sword again. “This is my fight!”
And when you fall, Juhg wondered, whose fight will it be then? The way back to the hole he’d cut in the belly of the beast was far. He doubted he’d make it before the woman overtook him. Then he saw the woman pull a knife from her boot with her tail.
Ladamae brought the blade up behind her, cleverly concealing the weapon from Craugh. The wizard blocked her sword, then swapped ends with the staff to aim a blow at her head. She ducked, calling him vile names, and her tail whipped forward with the knife.
Craugh blocked the knife at the last moment, then lifted the staff and halted the sword. Still holding both blades away from him, he sidestepped and pushed, throwing the woman off-balance. She whirled, wasting no time to get turned back around to once more face the wizard.
But there was no time. With a short step, Craugh swung the staff once more, this time driving it into the gem.
The gem exploded into a huge ball of crimson light at once, blinding Juhg with its intensity. He cried out at the pain and fought to get his eyes opened again to see if Craugh still lived. He blinked in amazement as his vision returned and he saw Craugh standing where the gem had been.
Ladamae stood in front of the wizard. Disbelief, followed quickly by fear, twisted her features. “Craugh,” she whispered. “What have you done? By the Old Ones, what have you done to me?”
As Juhg watched, Ladamae’s boots turned white, and the whiteness spread upward, taking her legs and her hips and her upper body.
“Nooo,” she whispered, and the sound was as plaintive as a child’s. She went rigid as the whiteness enveloped her head. She stood there only a moment more, then dropped into a powdery pile.
Stunned but curious, Juhg approached. He gazed down at the pile of powder, then bent to poke his finger into it.
“Salt,” Craugh said.
Juhg looked up at the wizard.
Craugh cleared his throat. “It’s salt. When I destroyed the gem, she turned into salt. She’s dead.” A lone tear trickled down his face. “One thing—” His voice broke. “One thing you must know, apprentice, if you ever write about this.” His eyes would not meet Juhg’s. “Ladamae was not always an evil creature. She was once … a beautiful young woman. She was corrupted.” He took a deep breath. “I corrupted her.”
Juhg stared in openmouthed wonder. There were so many things inside his mind, questions that needed answering, emotions he needed to vent. “You—you—helped steal The Book of Time from the Guardians?”
Craugh’s face grew stern. “We won’t talk of this, apprentice.”
“Does the Grandmagister know?”
“I said enough, apprentice.” Craugh stood straight and tall and threatening. “Do not press me on this matter.”
Juhg understood then. “The Grandmagister doesn’t know. How could you not tell him?”
Green flame blazed in the wizard’s eyes above the single tear.
At that moment, Juhg knew that his hold on life was as thin as a cat’s whisker.
“We leave this place,” Craugh said. “We leave this place now and don’t you dare ever speak to me of this subject again!” He turned and walked away.
Juhg watched the wizard go. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Even if he told everyone aboard One-Eyed Peggie, even if he could get Hallekk and the others to believe him even though they had been Craugh’s friends for years, the lives of the captain and crew would be forfeit.
“Apprentice,” Craugh said, “I’ll not call you twice.”
Reluctantly, with much confusion and pain, Juhg picked up the lantern he’d brought inside the dead monster and trudged along in the wizard’s wake. He took a last, lingering glance back at the pile of salt that had been the woman. In a short time, the darkness claimed her and hid her from sight.
Once more aboard One-Eyed Peggie, Juhg stood and looked out over the dead monster lashed to the ship’s side. Full dark had descended upon the sea, but the crew worked by lantern light and the pale quarter-moon to repair the damage done to the vessel.
“Didn’t find anything?” Hallekk asked, walking over to Juhg.
“Nothing of import,” Craugh answered in a neutral voice. There was no indication at all that he was lying.
And why would there be? Juhg asked himself. He’s a good liar. He’s lied for years.
“But it’s dead, ain’t it?” the pirate captain asked.
“It’s dead,” Craugh assured him. The wizard glanced at Juhg.
Juhg pretended he didn’t see the look, but he had no intention of telling anyone aboard the ship. Maybe later when they had a chance to run for their lives.
Or maybe it will be too late then and Craugh will have already killed you. Juhg didn’t like thinking like that, but it couldn’t be helped. He’d grown up in a goblinkin mine. He knew a lot about how evil the world could be. What surprised him most was how he could be surprised by who was evil.
Is Craugh evil? Is he truly helping to find the Grandmagister because the Grandmagister is his friend? Or is he interested in finding The Book of Time for his own purposes? Juhg didn’t know.
Craugh pointed his staff at the ropes holding the dead bearded hoar-worm to the ship. At a single command, a small green fireball darted from the staff and burned through the ropes. Released from the dead weight, One-Eyed Peggie righted herself, coming up from the leaning position she’d been in. The monster’s body sank out of sight.
“What do ye think ye’re doin’?” a pirate bellowed. “Don’t ye know rope’s in short supply right now?”
Craugh turned back toward the pirates working in the rigging.
High above in the rigging, three dwarves quickly scattered from a fourth. They were barely visible by the light of the moon and the lantern hanging from a ’yard.
Juhg held his breath, waiting for the wizard to blast the dwarf from the rigging.
Instead, Craugh turned from them all. “I’m going to bed. If you need me, wake me. Carefully.”
Juhg watched the wizard go, torn by his own feelings for the man and what he had learned in the belly of the monster.
“Looks all done in, don’t he?” Hallekk asked.
“Yes,” Juhg replied.
“Let’s hope we don’t need him,” the pirate captain said. “We got a fair mess to deal with here, an’ we’re fallin’ behind the Grandmagister even further.”
“How long do you think we’ll be laid up?” Juhg asked.
Hallekk scratched his beard. “Two, mayhap three days.”
“They’ll be in Imarish by then,” Juhg said. If Aldhran Khempus had tortured the Grandmagister into talking and he’d revealed the hiding place of whatever it was that was hidden in the city, there would be no way to stop it.
Hallekk clapped him on the shoulder. “I know. I know. But there’s nothin’ to be done for it. We’ll do what we can. An’ don’t you be givin’ up on ol’ Wick. He’s a canny one, he is. I got stories about things he’s done that I still ain’t told you yet.”
Juhg worked with the dwarves all through the night. He couldn’t sleep. His mind was too filled with questions and brimming up to his eyeballs with fear about what would happen in Imarish or with Craugh.
He tramped through the sodden hold, helped rescue cargo that could be salvaged, and helped man the pumps to keep the water from filling the hold till repairs could be effected. Then he worked on the rigging, sorting out the rope and sail that could be saved from that which could not.
The work was as strenuous as he remembered. He’d crewed aboard ships before with the Grandmagister, but he’d never worked on a vessel that had been a
s sorely stricken as One-Eyed Peggie that had survived.
Near dawn, when he found his flesh weak but his mind unflagging, he took his journal and his box of inks and charcoals from the protective rucksack and set to work in one of the longboats tied to One-Eyed Peggie’s side. He let his mind free, knowing he was tired and that true focus would evade him time and again if he tried to force it. Instead, he let his mind and hand shape the images that caught his attention.
For a while, he worked with the charcoal, blocking out images that he wanted to remember. The bearded hoar-worm went on the pages several times, followed by the woman he and Craugh had confronted. He rendered the huge gem as well, then an image of the woman turning into salt in front of his eves.
Craugh figured into the visual mix as well. Sometimes the wizard took on heroic proportions, as when he’d ridden the magicked ocean wave to battle the monster. But there were other times, like when he’d been steeped in the shadows in the monster’s belly and when he’d talked with Ladamae that he was the very essence of the villain.
So which is he? Juhg asked himself as he worked. Hero or villain?
He didn’t know. Every time he tried to deal with the problem his mind seemed wrapped in confusion and fear. He didn’t know that much about Craugh. The wizard was tight-lipped about his past life, as well as his life when he was away from Greydawn Moors, which was most of the time.
Juhg grew uncomfortably aware that it was all too easy to see Craugh in the role of the villain. Why did he make such a friendship with the Grandmagister? Suddenly, even those motives were suspect.
Could the Grandmagister be fooled? Juhg struggled hard with that one. Edgewick Lamplighter was the smartest person Juhg knew. But even with that said, Juhg also knew the Grandmagister wasn’t very worldly. The Grandmagister couldn’t help that, of course. It was just the way he was. But he couldn’t be fooled, either.
Except, perhaps, by a friend.
Juhg sighed with frustration as he listened to the dwarven pirates singing off-color sea shanties as they went about their labors. Later in the day they would put out the longboats and haul One-Eyed Peggie over so they could repair the cracked timbers below the waterline. Thankfully, Hallekk—just as Farok did before him—kept a surplus of wood and sailcloth aboard the ship.
