Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles (9 page)

 
          
“Hold
the diamond out before you,” Ula said. “Turn until it glows. When it glows
brightest, that’s the true direction of the isles. Follow the glow.”

 
          
Mik
did as she said, turning slowly, starting with the heading they were following.
The black diamond began to glow—dimly at first, but with increasing brightness
as he revolved. Mik frowned.

 
          
“It’s
nearly fifteen degrees starboard of our present heading,” he said.

 
          
“A
Veil of deceptive magic surrounds the isles,” Ula said. “It’s like steering
toward a mirage—when you get there, you find the mirage is gone. You can chase
a mirage forever and never find it
The
isles are the
same way. Some mariners call the effect
The
Maze.
Only the blessed or the very lucky can find their way through the
enchantment without a key.”

 
          
Karista’s
eyes glittered with reflected lightning. “Set the course! The storm is
approaching!”

 
          
“I
don’t trust the sea-witch’s magic,” Bok grumbled. “There’s something unnatural
about it.”

 
          
“It’s
either follow the magic,” Mik noted, “or sail around in circles until the storm
catches up with us.”

 
          
Mik
altered
Kingfisher's
course, swinging
the bow around until it matched where the light from the diamond key shone most
brightly.

 
          
The
air before them wavered, like heat above a rock on a blazing summer day. The
captain felt suddenly hot. Looking around, he saw that the others were sweating
as well—all save Ula, who looked as cool as ever. She stood with her arms
folded across her chest, leaning calmly against the rail, the wind pulling at
her long, platinum hair.

 
          
The
crew working the decks below moved about agitatedly. The sailors grumbled, and
some of them trembled.

 
          
Mik
ordered a ration of rum for everyone, and that seemed to calm things down for a
while.

 
          
Slowly,
ever so slowly, the Dragon Isles crept closer.

 
          
Karista
Meinor paced across the short expanse of
Kingfisher’s
bow, wringing her slender fingers together, and occasionally stopping to mop
the sweat from her brow with a silk handkerchief.

 
          
Behind
her stood Bok, perspiration running down his body from the tip of his shaved
head to his bare feet. He kept a wary eye on both his mistress and the
approaching islands.

 
          
Trip
clung to the rigging near the top of the mast, refusing to come down even as
the rainstorm broke in earnest. He kept his hazel eyes fixed on the distant
islands, hoping to catch a glimpse of flying dragons or something even more
wondrous.

 
          
The
wind howled like demons, and many crew members wrapped scarves around their
heads, or covered their ears with their hands—as much as they could—while they
worked.

 
          
Thunder
crashed and, before they knew it, a sailor had leaped overboard into the
surging waves. He screamed an incoherent warning as he went, but there was no
trace of him by the time a rescue crew reached the rail.

 
          
“Turn
back!” Pamak said.

 
          
“We
can’t!” Mik replied. “Our only chance to survive the storm is to keep going!”

 
          
Thunderheads
rolled up the sky behind
Kingfisher
,
and lightning crashed into the ocean with frightening regularity. The seas
mounted ever higher before the wind, and soon the water behind them looked like
green-gray mountains. The storm’s breath whipped the tops of the waves into
froth; white mist danced high into the air.

 
          
“Come
down, Trip!” Mik shouted up to the kender.
“Before you’re
struck by lightning!”

 
          
“Aye,
captain!” the kender called back. He swung around the mast and felt with his
foot for the rigging. As he did, something in the breakers off the stem caught
his attention. Trip put a hand over his eyes and peered into the storm.

 
          
“Crazy minnow!”
Ula yelled up to him. “What are you waiting
for?”

 
          
“I
see something!”

 
          
“What?”
asked
Mik.

 
          
“Sharks!
Sharks running before the storm!
Hundreds,
thousands of them!”

 
          
“He
must mean porpoises,” Karista called from the bow. “Sharks do
not
run before storms—not on the surface
anyway.”

 
          
“I
mean
sharks!”
Trip called back,
pointing. “Look for yourselves!”

 
          
The
aristocrat and the captain peered in the direction the kender indicated. The
wind whipped stinging spray into their eyes, and they had to blink away the
brine to see.

 
          
The
sea behind
Kingfisher
boiled angrily,
and not just with wind and waves. Tall dorsal fins broke the whitecaps as
schools of sharks swarmed forward: redtips, swordbeaks,
manglers
.
Many leaped from the breakers, their toothy maws snapping at the salty air.

 
          
“What’s
happening?” Karista called from the bow.

 
          
Astern
on the bridge, Mik shrugged and shook his head. “Maybe they’re chasing
something.”

 
          
“Or
perhaps something is chasing them,” Ula suggested. Her green eyes went wide as
she gazed at the foaming sea.

 
          
“What
is it, girl?” Karista shouted.

 
          
“Can’t
you
feel
it?” Ula called back. She
turned her head from side to side, as though seeking the cause of the feeling.

 
          
“I
feel it,” Mik replied. The sensation was like a large knot twisting within his
stomach. He tightened his grip on the tiller; his brown eyes flashed, questing,
across the whitecaps.

 
          
“I
feel nothing!” Karista shouted, annoyed. “I...”

 
          
As
she spoke, the waves behind them erupted, and the dragon burst from the deep.

Tempest's Fury

 
          
Tempest
exploded from the breakers like a blue green mountain. Boiling steam erupted
from her massive jaws; her yellow eyes shone with the fury of the storm.

 
          
Hatred
of the Dragon Isles and all those who sailed to them burned in her black heart.
She would make sure that if she could not reach the archipelago, no one would.

 
          
The
sea cascaded away from Tempest in huge waves. The sudden torrent crashed
against
Kingfisher
, threatening to
tip it on its side. High on the mast, Trip clung desperately to the rigging.
Sharks, razorfish, and Turbidus leeches as thick as a man’s arm sped in a
maelstrom circle around the tottering caravel.

 
          
The
crew working
Kingfisher’s
deck
toppled when the waves hit and screamed as the dragon-fear swept over them. Mik
hung onto the tiller, but the backwash from the waves carried Ula toward the
rail.

 
          
Mik
stabbed his hand out, but Ula slipped away from him.

 
 
         
The sea elf slammed against the
gunwale and regained her footing. A razorfish, carried high into the air by the
swell, flashed past her face. Ula barely ducked aside in time. The fish flopped
onto the deck, and she seized it in one slender hand. She dashed the fish’s
brains out against the hull and threw the body back into the raging surf.

 
          
At
the front of the ship, Marlian, Karista, and Bok froze as the dragon rose
before them. Marlian pushed them all to the deck as the breaker hit. All three
of them got wrapped up in the anchor chain, which kept them from heaving over
the side in the backwash.

 
          
Poul
wasn’t so lucky. The old man had been working amidships when the wave struck.
The water seized his thin body and thrust him toward the bow. Marlian reached
for him as he swept past, but her outstretched hand merely brushed his callused
fingertips.

 
          
The
tall sailor woman struggled out from under the tangled chains and lurched to
her feet. Poul was hanging half over the rail, his feet dangling toward the
raging water below. Marlian grabbed his right arm just as he went over.

 
          
“Help
me!” she cried.

 
          
Bok
lurched to his feet and toward the lanky woman sailor. Marlian’s fingers dug
into the old man’s stringy flesh. Terror flashed across Poul’s ancient face.

 
          
“I
won’t let go,” Marlian said. “Hold on!”

 
          
A
glimmer of hope lit within Poul’s ancient eyes. The breakers clawed at his bare
legs and feet as he tried to scramble aboard once more.

 
          
A
huge mangier shark burst from the waves below the wizened mariner. The
creature’s blue-gray sides glistened with foam. Seaweed and huge Turbidus
leeches hung from its flanks. Jagged triangular teeth jutted from its gaping
mouth. Poul’s legs disappeared into the fish’s maw; the shark bit down on the
sailor’s midsection.

 
          
Poul
gasped, and blood spurted from his mouth. Marlian screamed.

 
          
The
shark lunged forward, clamping its jaws down over the old man’s head. A hideous
crunching sound filled the air. The shark jerked its head to the side and dived
back into the deep.

           
Marlian clung to the old man’s arm,
but Poul was no longer attached to it. The momentum of the shark’s dive jerked
her half-way over the rail. She flailed with her hands but found only rain,
crashing water, and wind. Wide-eyed, she gazed into the deep. A dorsal fin cut
through the water in front of her terrified face.

 
          
Strong
hands grabbed Marlian’s ankles. “Karista, help!” the big bodyguard cried. He
clamped his thick fingers tight, but Marlian’s legs were slippery with rain.
Bok began to lose his grip.

 
          
Lady
Meinor staggered forward, trying to keep her footing on the rocking deck.
Kingfisher
surged and she fell into the
rail, almost going over herself.

 
          
Bok
grabbed her and lost his hold on Marlian.

 
          
Marlian
screamed as she disappeared into the brine. Razorfish swarmed in her wake and
stained the ocean red with blood.

 
          
* * * * *

           
Trip clasped his fingers tight
around the rope atop the masthead. He watched in fascination as the dragon
dived past the ship on the starboard side. Several deckhands threw themselves
off the ship in a frenzy of terror. What Trip felt was more of a
thrill.
He’d never seen a dragon before and was determined
not to miss a moment of the experience, even if it killed him.

 
          
Lightning
flashed through the sky, narrowly missing the mast. As quickly as he could,
Trip scrambled
down
the rigging toward the deck.

 
          
Another
dragon-spawned wave struck
Kingfisher’s
side. The boat pitched wildly, and Trip found himself hanging in the air,
holding onto a rain-soaked rope by only his fingertips.

 
          
“Wheel”
he squealed as his hands slipped free.
The
feeling of soaring unfettered through the air was one the kender knew he would
treasure for the rest of his life—even if that life was about to end. Trip
smiled at his friends on the madly bobbing ship below as the waves rushed up to
meet him. “Will I hit the deck, or the water?” he wondered. “Will it hurt
much?”

 
          
*****

 
          
Karista
grabbed Bok’s shoulder and clung to him as he pulled her away from the rail.

 
          
“Lower
the boat!” Karista cried, staggering toward the skiff, stowed amidships. “If we
lower the boat, we could get away!”

 
          
“Away to where?”
Bok replied, gazing frantically around the
surging seas, trying to find the islands.

 
          
Dragon-fear
held the crew firmly in its terrifying grip. Most of the hired hands dashed
madly about the deck, or dived for cover through the hatch and into the hold.
Following Karista’s suggestion, several sailors began to unlash the ship’s boat
and push it toward the rail.

 
          
“Belay
that, you fools!” Mik shouted from the bridge, but the crew wasn’t listening.
The captain cursed as the heaving seas threatened to yank the tiller from his
hand.
Kingfisher
bobbed and swerved
wildly, nearly heaving onto its side.

 
          
Ula
staggered from the rail to help Mik. As she skidded across the teetering
bridge, the sea elf looked up and saw a kender flying through the air toward
her. She held out her arms, and Trip fell hard into them. The two of them
thudded to the rain-soaked deck. “So kender fly now?” Ula asked.

 
          
“I
wish!” Trip replied. The two of them struggled to their feet once more and
lurched to the tiller.

 
          
“Hold
onto this,” Mik said, slapping the diamond artifact into Trip’s small hand. “I
don’t want to lose it in this wash.”

 
          
Trip
nodded, and tucked the object into one of the many pouches on his lizard-skin
vest.

 
          
“The
dragon’s submerged! I can’t see it!” Bok cried. The big bodyguard looked around
frantically.

 
          
“Maybe
it’s gone,” said Pamak, trying to launch the boat.

 
          
“It
could be anywhere!” replied a woman helping him. The two kept pushing die skiff
toward the rail. A crowd of sailors had formed around them, but no one seemed
to have a clear plan for accomplishing their task; the crowd hindered as much
as helped the efforts to launch the smaller boat.

 
          
Meinor
and Bok pushed up to the milling crowd. “Let us through!” the aristocrat
bellowed. “I must get on that boat!”

 
          
“Turn
the ship into the wind, or we’ll be swamped!” Mik said to Ula as the two of
them struggled with the tiller.

 
          
The
sea elf nodded. Trip came to help them, wrapping his small arms around the
steering board. A huge wave cascaded over the side of
Kingfisher.
The crew on deck were scattered like ninepins, and the
ship’s boat crashed through the rail and over the side. Bok went with it, but
Karista got pinned against the gunwale, her foot caught in one of the scuppers
meant to drain the deck.

 
          
A
second wave crashed over the bridge. The impact jarred Trip’s fingers loose
from the tiller. The kender tumbled down the stairs, skidding helplessly toward
the rail.

 
          
Karista
reached out and Trip grabbed her hand.

 
          
“Thanks!”
Trip gasped. They clung to each other and staggered away from the side, but
Kingfisher
lurched and threw them hard
against the main mast. They grabbed a tangle of lines at the mast’s base and
barely avoided being sucked overboard in the backwash.

 
          
Thunder
crashed and lighting splintered the ship’s bowsprit. Karista and Trip staggered
to their feet once more.

 
          
They
all gazed out into the raging sea. Four lengths off the starboard side, the
ship’s boat floundered in the crashing waves. Bok and several other sailors had
managed to pull themselves aboard the tiny vessel. They clung to the sides as
the gale spun them about like a toy in an angry child’s bathtub.

 
          
The
skiff suddenly surged upward on a huge column of black water. The crew screamed
as the water fell away and a lightning flash revealed the dragon beneath.
Tempest held the tiny boat between her immense rows of teeth for a moment. Then
her jaws snapped shut, and the boat flew into splinters.

 
          
The
people manning the skiff disappeared into her gigantic maw—all but Bok, who had
been flung out as the boat disintegrated. The bodyguard clung desperately to
one of the huge Turbidus leeches hanging from the dragon’s upper jaw. He
screamed wildly as he tried to scrabble up the dragon’s face to the imagined
safety of her brow.

 
          
Tempest
flicked her head, like a monstrous dog flipping a hone into the air. Bok lost
his grip and flew up into the storm. Tempest caught him in her titanic fangs
and crushed him into a bloody pulp. Sharks, razorfish, and Turbidus leeches
swarmed forward to gobble up the crimson leavings.

 
          
Karista’s
eyes went wide with horror as the dragon surged toward
Kingfisher
. She screamed—a piercing, high- pitched wail from the
center of her soul.

 
          
“Move!”
Trip shouted, hauling on Karista’s hand. “We have to
move!” He tried to drag her toward the bridge, and finally her legs began to
move. They scrambled frantically over the wet, slimy deck toward the aft
stairway. On the bridge, Mik and Ula struggled with the tiller, trying in vain
to bring the ship around.