Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles (7 page)

 
          
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.

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 yesterday 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.”

 
          
A
frown crept over Mik’s bearded face. “Why didn’t your former crewmates on the
Golden Harvest steal your jewelry before they cast you adrift?”

 
          
“They
were afraid to touch any of it,” she said with a slight grin. “I told them the
jewels were cursed.”

 
          
“Cursed?
Really?” the kender said, his hazel eyes lighting up.

 
          
“Deadly
cursed,” the beautiful elf said, straight-faced. “Sleek,” replied Trip, awe in
his small voice.

 
          
“Why
do we need you to find the Dragon Isles?” Mik said. “We have the Prophecy.
We’re on course. According to the parchment, we should reach our goal before
the end of the day tomorrow.”

 
          
She
smiled again, finished oiling her long limbs, and set the bottle back on the
shelf. “It’s not
so
easy as you think.” “How would you
know?”

 
          
“I
grew up there. The Dragon Isles don’t let just anyone in. You need to know the
secret.”

 
          
“What
secret?”

 
          
“If
she told us,” said Trip helpfully, “then it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?”

 
          
Mik
scowled at him. “I’ll discuss it with Karista,” he said.

 
          
Ula
nodded.

 
          
“Now,
I need to get on deck and check our course before the stars set.”

 
          
“I’ll
go with you,” she replied.

 
          
“Me,
too,” Trip added.

 
          
The
morning air was crisp, with a stiff, salty breeze blowing from the south. The
wind raised goosebumps on Mik’s tanned skin, but seemed to have little effect
on Ula. Living underwater, she must be used to the cold, Mik thought.

 
          
He
reached reflexively for the enchanted fish necklace at his throat, then
remembered he’d put it in his sea chest the previous evening. Wearing it too
long became tiring and caused more of its jeweled scales to flake off. Mik knew
the magic inside it wouldn’t last forever. It was fading, like all the other
enchantments in the world—and needed to be used sparingly. The lost gods
willing, he’d have no need of the necklace today.

 
          
Mik
took the tiller from the night helmsman, and adjusted their course to better
follow the
Great
Silver
River
toward the Seven Cities constellation.
Clouds were blowing in from the south, so he made some final calculations to
help steer them through the day.

 
          
Ula
hung a rope over the stem and climbed down into the water. Then she swam in the
ship’s wake, her lean form cutting gracefully through the dark water. Trip and
the other crew members leaned on the rail, watching her in fascination. When
she finally climbed out, the sailors on deck cheered.

 
          
Mik
smiled and shook his head.

 
          
A
brief squall that morning drenched the sailors’ bodies, but did little to
dampen their spirits. Warm late summer winds from the northwest soon dried out
Kingfisher’s
sails and her crew. The
ship followed the course set by the stars, Mik using his calculations to guide
them when the sun hid behind the cotton-like clouds.

 
          
He
spoke to Karista about Ula’s proposal, but the noblewoman wouldn’t buy any of
it. “Just another leech,” Karista said. “We owe her nothing.”

 
          
Ula,
standing at the rail nearby, must surely have overheard—but she said nothing,
only smiling her enigmatic smile. Mik tried not to think about her.

 
          
He
also tried not to think about the huge diamond glittering amid a pile of
treasure in the lost temple. The vision, though, kept tugging at his mind.

 
          
Ula
retired to his cabin at
midday
—to escape the summer sun, which had broken
through the clouds once more. She was still there when Mik came in for a
lunchtime break.

 
          
“Well
... ?
” she asked, leaning forward on her cot.

 
          
“Karista
isn’t convinced you have any information we need,” he replied. “And, even if
she were, I doubt she’d be willing to give up a share of the trade concession
she hopes to win.”

 
          
“Trade
concession?” Ula said. “I wasn’t asking for a cut of the trade concession. I
want a cut of the
treasure
you’re
looking for—the one mentioned in the Prophecy.”

 
          
“Karista
isn’t interested in the treasure,” Mik said. “I’m on my own in that regard.”

 
          
“Not
any more,” she said with a sly smile.

 
          
“How
can you be sure any treasure exists?” Mik asked, pouring them both a mug of
rum. “Even
I’m
not sure it exists.”

 
          
“I
grew up in the isles,” she replied. “I’ve heard rumors of such things before.
And I saw that key-like artifact you have locked in your sea chest. Working
together, I’m sure we can find riches beyond your imagining.”

 
          
Kingfisher’s
captain raised his cup and
drank. “I’m still not convinced I need another partner,” he said stubbornly.

           
Ula shook her head and her platinum
locks fell pleasingly around her smooth shoulders. “You’ll never get there
without my help.”

 
          
“We’ll
see.”

 
          
She
raised her glass. “Indeed we will.”

 
          
He
left Ula in the cabin and went back to work. Karista Meinor and Bok kept mostly
out of the way as the crew of
Kingfisher
kept the vessel on course. Occasionally, Mik spotted the aristocrat checking
her copy of the Prophecy.