Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles (3 page)

           
“I’m still the captain here,” Mik
replied. “It’s my decision who stays aboard and who takes up company with the
razorfish.
Unless, of course, you’d care to hire someone else
to complete this little errand of yours.”

 
          
Karista
waved one bejeweled hand at him dismissively. “You know that’s impossible,” she
said.

 
          
“We’d
never find another captain before the typhoon season hits,” Bok added.

 
          
Mik
smiled.
“How unfortunate.”

 
          
Karista’s
ruby red lips pulled tight across her straight white teeth. “Your experience
makes you uniquely valuable to this expedition, captain,” she said.
“As you well know.”

 
          
Mik
nodded.

 
          
“Nevertheless,”
she continued, “I hired this crew, and supplied this ship, and
..
.forgave
the
considerable debts you owed my family.”

 
          
“That’s
not the only reason I agreed to do this,” Mik countered.

 
          
“Be
that as it may,” she said, “our agreement is not fulfilled until this mission
arrives at a satisfactory conclusion.”

 
          
“I
signed to sail you where you want to go,” Mik said. “Whether you find what
you’re looking for when we get
there .
.. ? That’s
your gamble.”

 
          
Karista
nodded slowly. “Indeed,” the aristocrat said. “But if the legends are true, you
stand to gain nearly as much as I.”

 
          
“That’s
the other reason I came.”

 
          
“So
we’re in agreement, then?” Karista asked, arching one thin eyebrow.

 
          
“Just
so long as I make the decisions aboard this ship,” Mik replied.

 
          
Karista
bowed slightly and rain ran in long rivulets from her wavy brown hair. She cast
an indifferent glance at the kender, still fuming silently. “Insofar as running
the ship,” she said, “I accede to your superior knowledge.”

 
          
Thunder
crashed.

 
          
“Well,
we
ain’t so sure about that,” boomed
a loud voice.

 
          
A
tall man with a scar pushed through the group of sailors surrounding the
rescued mariners. He was nearly as large as Bok and looked even meaner. A lanky
woman with short blond hair stepped up beside him.

 
          
“Some
of us think,” she said, “that it might be time for a
new
captain.”

Into
Unknown
Seas

 
          
Though
the storm was abating, the wind still howled around
Kingfisher
and rain washed the decks. Tall waves caused the caravel
to lurch precariously.
Kingfisher
’s
crew, though, stood ominously still as the tall crewman and the lanky female
sailor stared into Mik Vardan’s brown eyes.

 
          
“We
don’t intend to follow this witch to our deaths,” the man said, pointing to
Karista Meinor, “no matter how good she pays.”

 
          
“Five
have died already,” the woman put in. “And your little friend was almost the
sixth.” She glanced at the kender.

 
          
“Little
.. .
!” Trip said, rising to his feet.

 
          
“None
of us plans to
he
next,” the man growled. “We’ve
already sailed beyond the charts—beyond all good sense. None of us is sailing
any farther.”

 
          
“We
want to know our destination,” the woman added. “The Meinors’ money and your
reputation as a salvage captain may have lured us this far, Vardan—but we’ve
done no salvage and there’s no destination in sight. Money will only buy
loyalty for so long.”

 
          
“So
I see,” Karista muttered.

 
          
Mik
gazed around the assembled crew, grim-faced and sodden in the howling storm.
“Do Pamak and Marlian speak for all of you?” he asked.

 
          
Most
of the crew nodded and grumbled, “Aye.”

 
          
Mik
turned to Karista Meinor. “I think, perhaps, it is time you revealed the
purpose of our voyage, milady,” he said. “In such perilous seas, the crew
deserves no less.”

 
          
“You
cannot give orders to milady,” Bok said, stepping in front of his mistress and
nearly slipping on the wet deck.

 
          
“Calm
yourself, Bok,” Karista said, her voice sweet as honey. “Captain Vardan is
right again. The crew has endured many perils just to reach this point. They
deserve to know the goal for which we’ve risked so much.”

 
          
As
she spoke, the fierce winds died away as if on command. Karista nodded at the
fortunate coincidence and mounted the short stairway to the ship’s bridge. She
stood above the crew, one hand gripping the rail, and raised her other hand
high. Bok took up a protective position at the bottom of the stairs, shielding
his mistress from the crew.

 
          
Sparks
flashed from Karista’s fingertips. She
concentrated. Her steely eyes narrowed and sweat beaded on her brow. The sparks
coalesced into a small ball of purplish light.

 
          
The
crew regarded the unusual magical display with a mixture of skepticism and
nervousness.

 
          
“What’s
she up to?” Trip whispered to Mik.

 
          
“I’m
not sure,” Mik replied, keeping a careful eye on the witch.

 
          
Trip
nodded and whispered, “I’ll figure out an escape route, just in case.”

 
          
“Behold!”
Karista said, and a flickering image of an archipelago with tall mountains
appeared hovering above her hand. “This is our destination—the Dragon Isles.”

 
          
A
murmur of disbelief ran through the crew.

           
“The Dragon Isles are mere legend,”
the scar-faced man, Pamak, muttered.

 
          
“Not
legend,” Karista replied, “but a dream beyond the wealth of avarice.” She
blinked and the image flickered again, like a candle struggling in the
breeze—though the storm’s winds had died away. “This dream is within our grasp.
This is why I have led you here—to the middle of the ocean.”

           
“Even if the legend were true,” the
lanky woman, Marlian, said, “how are we to find the isles? Only good dragons
are supposedly allowed there—and the good dragons have left Krynn, haven’t
they?”

 
          
“Oh
yes, good dragons are there,” Karista replied with a smile. She gasped, and the
image of the island sputtered out She leaned heavily against the rail and gazed
over the assembled crew. “But in my cabin, under magical lock and key, is a
scroll that I have obtained, which will lead us to the isles.”

           
“Prove it!” Marlian called up to
her.

 
          
Karista
threw her head back and laughed. Gem-like rivulets splashed from her long, wavy
hair. “Patience!” she cried exultantly. “You’ll have your proof when I am good
and ready.” “How do we know this isn’t some witch’s trick?” Pamak said.

 
          
A
wizened sailor standing apart from the mutineers cleared his throat. His name
was Poul and he was the oldest member of
Kingfisher
*s
crew. His ancient bones could be seen clearly through his leathery skin. The
rain had matted his thin white hair onto his head, and his face looked like a
skull. His eyes, though, shown bright and green—like the eyes of a youth first
put out to sea.

 
          
“I
seen the Dragon Isles once,” he said in a low voice, “
when
I was a young man. Beautiful, they
was
, like gems on
the blue horizon. It was almost like you could stick out your hand and
grab
’em—but they was always just out of reach. Back then,
my captain said they
was
cursed.”

 
          
“Aha!”
Pamak said. “See?
Cursed!”

 
          
Mik
glared at the scar-faced sailor. “Let Poul speak, Pamak,” he said.

 
          
Pamak
scowled at the captain, but Mik neither blinked nor turned away. Slowly the
scar-faced man nodded. “All right,” he said. “I got respect for my elders. I’ll
hear the old man out.” Mik nodded to the leathery Poul.

 
          
“When
you seen metallic dragons on the wing—even from ten leagues away—there ain’t
nothin’ to compare to it,” Poul continued. “It’s somethin’ you’ll never
forget—not in
two
lifetimes. I’d give
anything to see those isles again. Anyone would be a fool to pass up the
chance.

 
          
“The
Dragon Isles are
real
, I’ll vouch for
that. I
knows
men that’s seen them in the years since
the gods and the good dragons left Krynn. They’re as solid as you or me. A
clever man—a clever ship—might find ’em—if one knew where to look.” Poul
settled back, away from the crowd once more.

 
          
“All
of you respect Poul,” Mik said. “The Dragon Isles
do
exist. I’ve seen the scroll in Lady Meinor’s cabin. We’re on
course to find these isles even now.”

 
          
“That’s
why I hired Captain Vardan,” Karista said from the bridge. Her magic had
temporarily depleted her energy, but now the momentary interruption had allowed
her to regain her strength. “There are no sailors more experienced in the deep,
uncharted waters of the
Turbidus
Ocean
.”

 
          
The
assembled crew muttered their assent. Overhead, the clouds parted slightly, and
the rain began to die away.

 
          
“You
will all have a share in the profits of this voyage,” Karista continued.
“Think
of the wealth of the Dragon
Isles! Think of the rewards of opening a trade route to such a place!”
Sparks
danced in her steely eyes. A ray of
sunlight broke through the clouds and caressed the beautiful aristocrat's form.

 
          
“My
family is wealthy,” she said to her rapt audience. “That wealth bought and
provisioned this ship and hired all of you. We Meinors didn’t get where we are
by following wild rumors. You signed onto this trip because you believed it
would be profitable for all of you—that your shares in the journey would
outweigh the risks. Surely a few . . .
accidents
haven’t changed that.”

 
          
A
mutter of agreement ran through the formerly disgruntled crew.

 
          
“All
right,” Marlian said, brushing the rain from her short, blond hair. “That makes
sense to me.”

 
          
“Yeah.
We’ll follow your plan for a while,” Pamak added.
Others added their assent.

 
          
Karista
Meinor showed her straight, white teeth in a pleasing smile. “Then back to
work, all of you,” she said.

 
          
“Yes,
back to work,” Mik called. “We’re lucky the storm didn’t scuttle us while we
stood around jabbering.”

 
          
As
the rest of the crew went about their business, Mik stopped Pamak and Marlian.

 
          
“Next
time you two try to stir things up,” Mik whispered to them both, “I’ll deal
with you one on one—or two on one, if those odds suit you better.”

 
          
“Two on two!”
Trip, close on his heels,
interjected.

 
          
“I
meant no disrespect, captain,” Marlian said, sparing a frown, for the kender.

 
          
A
sly grin drew over Pamak’s scarred face. “Any odds you like, any time ...
captain. It will be my pleasure.” He gave a short, mocking bow before returning
to his duties.

 
          
“I
don’t like them very much,” Trip said after they’d gone.

 
          
“Marlian’s
just excitable and misguided,” Mik replied. “Pamak, though, can be trouble.
Nothing I can’t handle.”

 
          
“Nothing
we can’t handle,” Trip repeated confidently.

 
          
The
waves began to settle as the sky cleared. Mik took a few bearings from the sun
and applied it to his knowledge of this area of ocean, then gave a corrected
course to the helmsman. Then he went to his cabin below the bridge to put some
salve on his wounds. Trip went with him and helped with the bandaging.

 
          
“Maybe
Karista has some magical ointment we could use,” Trip said as he wound a piece
of fresh linen around a cut on Mik’s right arm. “She seems to have lots of
magic,” he added enviously.

 
          
“I
don’t think I’d trust it if she did,” Mik replied. “You remember how well her
magical seaweed worked?”

           
“I’m sure she didn’t mean for those
two men to die,” Trip said sincerely. “I saw her use the seaweed to breathe
underwater
herself
, once. It worked fine, then. And
it’s worth a try in a pinch, I mean, if you’re going to drown anyway.”