Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles (6 page)

 
          
“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?”

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.

 
          
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?”