Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles (2 page)

 
         
Captain
Mikal Vardan sprinted to the rail of
Kingfisher
and dived over the side into the pounding surf. The storm lashed his body,
trying to tear away his dagger, as he plunged into the water. Mik gripped the
knife tightly between his teeth; if he lost the weapon, his friend would surely
die.

 
          
The
magic from his enchanted fish necklace suffused Mik’s body. The gale-tossed
water cleared before his sight, and warm, sweet air filled his lungs. One day,
Mik knew, the necklace’s erratic magic would fail him; thankfully, today was
not that day.

 
          
He
spotted the struggling form of Tripleknot Shell- cracker in the azure darkness
before him. The kender kicked his small feet and briefly poked his head above
the surface before the sea monster pulled him under once more.

 
          
The
creature circled the kender tightly with its green- scaled tentacles, trying to
drag Trip farther into the deep. The creature was like nothing Mik had ever
seen before—a hideous cross between a serpent and an octopus. Whiplike tendrils
surrounded its serpentine head, while a dozen fat tentacles sprang from its
slender body. The thing had surged out of the storm onto
Kingfisher's
deck and killed three sailors before retreating over
the side with the kender in its grasp.

 
          
Fire
had driven it off the ship, but Mik could not fight it with fire here. All he
had was an enchanted necklace that let him breathe under water, a diver’s stout
dagger, and his wits. He prayed they would be enough to save his friend.

 
          
Trip
had weapons of his own, but the creature held the kender’s arms pinned against
his sides. Though he struggled mightily, Trip couldn’t reach his slender pearl-
handled knives.

 
          
Mik
swam toward his friend as rapidly as he could, fighting against the heaving
waters. The storm’s fury slowed the monster as well. Gigantic waves surged up
from the deep and thrust the beast back toward the surface.

 
          
A
tentacle flashed by the sea captain’s head. Mik grabbed it and pulled himself
hand-over-hand, like a sailor scaling the rigging, toward the creature’s
bloated body.

 
          
The
monster spewed smaller tendrils at the sailor. Mik pulled his dagger from
between his teeth and slashed, severing the limbs before they could grab him.
Purplish blood clouded the ocean, swirling before Mik’s eyes.

 
          
“Hang
on, Trip!” he called. “I’m coming!” The sea garbled his words, and he couldn’t
tell whether the kender heard him. He could barely make out his friend through
the turbulent waters.

 
          
A
tentacle clouted Mik on the back of the head, and lights danced before his
eyes. He felt a snake-like appendage wrap around his mid-section, trying to
squeeze the life out of him. Even with his necklace turning the water to air,
he still needed to breathe. Black unconsciousness closed in around him.

 
          
Fighting
back the darkness, he plunged his knife into the tentacle at his waist and tore
sideways. The tentacle ripped nearly in half and lost its grip. Mik swam free
and shot across the gap separating him from his friend.

 
          
Trip
could hold his breath for longer than almost anyone Mik knew, but he was
looking pale and blue as the ship captain reached him. Mik thrust his dagger into
the tentacles holding the kender and quickly cut them away.

 
          
The
sea monster
shrieked,
its piercing wail audible even
above the crashing surf and the raging storm.

 
          
Mik
pushed Trip upward, and the kender kicked weakly toward the surface.

 
          
The
beast thrashed in the surging water, stirring up whirlpools of bubbles and
staining the water with its purplish blood. Tendrils whipped against the sea
captain, biting into his skin as he clawed for the surface.

 
          
Two
thick tentacles wrapped around Mik’s ankles and dragged him down as the monster
lurched back into the deep. Mik stabbed at them with his dagger, but as he did,
another tentacle wrapped around his arm. He tried to wriggle out of the thing’s
grip, but the creature’s strength was too great.

 
          
He
grappled with the ensnaring limb, trying to free his knife as they sank ever
deeper into the brine.

 
          
Another
tentacle came to seize him, and another, and another. He twisted from side to
side, trying to deny their deadly grip. One brushed across his throat, threatening
to rip away his enchanted necklace. Mik imagined himself drowning even as the
creature crushed him to death.

 
          
He
refused to give up.

 
          
Using
both hands, he twisted his dagger sideways and slashed it across the ensnaring
arm. The tentacle’s flesh tore, but it did not let go.

 
          
Something
flashed by him in the storm-tossed gloom—a shark, perhaps, or sharp-toothed
razorfish. A grim smile crossed the sailor’s bearded face.
So
many ways to die in the deep.

 
          
A
bright shape flitted out of the bubbling, blood-stained darkness. It slashed
down and across the monster’s tentacle, near Mik’s ensnared hand. The tentacle
fell away and Mik found
himself
free.

 
          
“Thanks,
Trip!” Mik burbled, recognizing the pale shape in the water nearby.

 
          
The
kender, his cheeks puffed out with fresh air, nodded and slashed swifdy again
with his twin pearl-handled daggers. In moments, they severed all the rubbery
arms holding the ship captain.

 
          
Trip
darted aside and headed for the surface again as the enraged creature reached
out to grab them once more. Instead of following the kender, though, Mik dived
straight for the center of the flailing mass.

 
          
The
creature’s pale green eyes, large as dinner plates, swiveled toward the sailor.
The arms turned inward in a futile attempt to stop his descent.

 
          
Mik
seized the creature’s flabby, scale-covered skin with one hand to anchor
himself. With his other hand he plunged his dagger as far as it would go into
the monster’s center.

 
          
The
creature’s distressed cries rang in his ears as he twisted the knife sideways,
cutting across the bony ridge between the thing’s eyes. The monster flailed at
him.

 
          
He
ripped out the dagger, bursting one of the greenish eyes as the weapon pulled
free. The creature’s tendrils waved frantically around him like a mass of angry
snakes. He kicked away from it and burst free. Mortally wounded, the monster
sank slowly into the depths.

 
          
Just
before Mik reached the storm-tossed surface, he saw Trip diving down once more.

 
          
The
kender spotted him, grinned, and then turned back toward the waves above.

 
          
They
broke through the surf an arm’s-length apart.

 
          
“Hey,
thanks for saving my life!” Trip gasped, spitting salt water from his lips.

 
          
“Don’t
mention it,” Mik replied.

 
          
They
gazed through the storm and spotted
Kingfisher's
three tawny sails bobbing over the waves a short distance away.

 
          
“Can
you make it?” Mik asked.

 
          
The
kender nodded, and they both fought across the breakers toward the caravel.
Kingfisher
rolled nimbly on the ocean,
her raised bow and high stern deck staying well above the surging seas. The
ship’s red sides glistened in the rain as though they’d been freshly painted.
The great blue eye painted on the bow for good luck seemed to stare at the
castaway mariners as they returned.

 
          
The
crew dropped a boarding net over
Kingfisher
's
side, and the kender and the captain grabbed hold when a wave swept them near.
They clung as the storm alternately tried to pound them into the gunwales or
rip them back into the sea.

 
          
Crewmen
aboard the aging caravel pulled on the net as Mik and Trip climbed up, and the
castaways soon tumbled to the sodden deck, exhausted. They lay on the well-worn
planking, panting to regain their strength. Driving rain and sea spray washed
over their faces.

 
          
A
shudder ran through Mik’s body and he felt suddenly cold. He glanced down and
saw one of the jeweled scales of his enchanted necklace crumble into dust. The
price of the magic seemed higher every time he used it. Magic was fading from
Ansalon and soon even artifacts like the necklace would be nothing more than
fancy jewelry.

 
          
A
shadow fell over Mik’s face and he gazed up at Karista Meinor. Lightning
flashed. The pale brilliance reflected from the aristocrat’s steely eyes and
illuminated her well-rounded form. She looked beautiful, even amid the storm,
even with her billowing silks soaked and clinging to her tanned skin.

 
          
She
eyed the drenched sailor angrily. “That was a foolish thing to do, captain,”
Karista said. “You could have been killed. I didn’t hire you to get sacrifice
yourself for a kender. I hired you to do a job.”

 
          
“I
didn’t sign on to watch my friends die,” Mik replied. His brown eyes narrowed.
“Or even my enemies.”

 
          
Bok,
Karista’s huge bodyguard and paramour, stepped forward and helped Mik to his
feet. “The kender’s a stowaway,” he said, “of no value to milady’s expedition.
We should have tossed him overboard when we first discovered him.”

 
          
Trip,
still sputtering on the rain-soaked deck, glared at Bok, uncharacteristically
holding his tongue.