Emerald Sceptre (24 page)

Xaphira produced a small scroll tube from her satchel and withdrew a curled sheaf of parchments. She thumbed through them, finding the one she wanted, and replaced the rest in the tube before tucking it back in the satchel.

Emriana watched her aunt scan the page for a moment. “Will that do it?” she asked, not wanting to interrupt but unbearably curious. She had never seen her aunt draw magic from a scroll before and she wanted to understand how it was done.

“I never had much need to obliterate a curse on the battlefield,” Xaphira said at last, “but I always thought this would be handy to have around. All right, here we go.” And she began to chant, her eyes scanning the page. Emriana heard the woman singing the words, but she couldn’t understand any of it. Xaphira’s song reached a quick crescendo and she stopped.

Marga burst into tears. “Oh, by the gods,” she sobbed, jumping up and running out into the hall. “Please go get them,” she begged, turning around to face Xaphira and Emriana. “Don’t let him hurt them,” she said in a near-whisper.

Both women ran to Marga and took her in their arms again. “It’s all right,” Xaphira said, shushing her and stroking her hair. “We’ll get them back for you.”

Emriana just wrapped her arms around the woman’s waist and clung to her. I know how you feel, she thought. I was helpless for a while, too.

By the time they had gotten Marga comfortable and had heard her entire story, Emriana was seething mad. Shapeshifters! That day by the pond, she thought, understanding the twins’ odd behavior at last.

Denrick.

Somehow, realizing the truth of the previous night made her feel worse. She shuddered, trying not to relive the ordeal again. She knew that Lobra had preyed upon her worst fears, and in a way, she was angry with herself for letting it be such an effective fear.

No! She thought, shouting at herself. Don’t you accept any blame for that. They did it to you!

It was time to put a stop to it, Emriana decided. Right now. “Xaphira,” she said, and something in the tone of her voice must have made her aunt realize the gravity of what she was about to say, for the woman looked at her intently. “We still have unfinished business to deal with.” When Xaphira didn’t say anything, Emriana continued. “It’s time to pay Grozier Talricci a visit.”

II • III

Several rows of teeth the size of Vambran’s torso flashed toward the mercenary, white blades designed to shred him into bloody pulp. But when they snapped together, the yawning blackness of the shark wholly enveloped him, and those great daggers missed his flesh. He was swept into the blackness, fighting the churning water, thrashing against the current, but it

was futile. The undersea world, the light, receded.

Trapped inside the shark’s mouth, the current still propelled Vambran, and he found himself sliding deeper into its cavernous insides. Fighting the terror of what had befallen him, the lieutenant tried to reason. He still had the trident Serille had given him, though he doubted it would do much against such a massive creature. Still, he might be able to use it to slow his descent into the thing’s belly. He rammed the weapon down hard, feeling it sink into the flesh. He clung to the haft, fighting the flow of water, and peered around.

Ahead, he could see the light beyond the enormous mouth as the shark swam about, allowing water to flow in. Indeed, the current that was trying to sweep him along reminded him of something. Turning to stare in the other direction, deeper into the beast’s gullet, he spied the twin glimmers of light he was hoping for.

The gills.

Uprooting the trident and paddling furiously, Vambran swam toward one side of the shark, aiming at those slits, letting the flow of the water carry him. As he neared the first of the gaps in the shark’s body, he jabbed the trident into it, using the weapon as a handle. The force of the water was strong, but Vambran wasn’t sure he could slip out through the gill. He pushed on the flap experimentally to see how flexible it was. It did not give much, but it was the only means of escape that he could see. Bolstering his courage, the mercenary began to climb through the gill. He led with the trident and his arms. Once he got his head wedged into the gap, he began shoving himself through, using the trident like a pry bar.

The shark, perhaps sensing the man’s assault

on a sensitive body part, thrashed about, buffeting Vambran. He nearly lost his grip on his weapon and he was slammed about painfully, all the while still desperate to free himself. When, the shark jerked just right, the gill slit opened enough that Vambran’s body slipped through. He went tumbling along the shark’s flank, buffeted by its motion and scraping painfully against its rough skin.

But he was free.

And bleeding.

It was no more than a scrape, trickling only a little blood, but the great brute was making a wide turn, and Vambran feared that it could smell his wound in the water already. Terrified of another attack, of not being so lucky as to evade the teeth again, he dived downward to the sea floor and discovered a small fold in the coral and the anemones where he could wedge himself in. He plunged into the crack and fell still just as the shark glided past again, snapping its jaws where he had been only a heartbeat before. The ferocity of the bites churned the water, swirling it and buffeting Vambran severely. He cradled his head in his arms as he bounced against the rock,, and when the water grew calm, he glanced up to seep’ the skin of the beast moving past him at less than an arm length away.

Even after the creature had moved past, Vambran remained still for several long moments more, unwilling even to turn his head to see where it had gone.

Finally, when his heartbeat had slowed to an even rate, the lieutenant did rise, barely enough to peer around. He saw no sign of the immense shark.

Thank Tymora, he thought, sagging down again.

After gathering his strength, Vambran rose up from his protected hiding place. He saw no evidence

of the rest of his companions. Dismayed, he considered the best course of action.

On land, he thought, if a soldier gets lost in the woods, he’s instructed to stay put and let others find him. Maybe that works in the water, too. But how long do I wait for them to come back? he wondered. It’s bound to get even darker down here. I can make a light, but Serille said that was a bad idea.

After weighing his options, the lieutenant decided to follow his instincts, which told him to return to the domed building he had discovered before the arrival of the shark. He rationalized that it was the place where he had first lost his companions and thus, if they followed the same methods as on the surface, they would backtrack to that spot and find him. But the truth was, he felt drawn to the location. Curiosity was driving him to find out what was inside, through that narrow space that he had imagined being a doorway.

The only problem was, how could he leave a clue for the others that he was there? Vambran needed some way to mark the spot, leave some sign behind—subtle enough not to attract the attention of unwanted species, but obvious enough to those who knew what to look for.

Vambran had no idea how long it took him to find the unusual formation again, but eventually he spotted the strange dome. With a sigh of relief, he settled down near the rocky crevice that he thought might allow ingress. The fissure was pitch black within and Vambran was reluctant to use his magic to generate light, but he would never work up the courage to descend without being able to see. He also knew that blindly entering the unknown space might bring him face-to-face with Waukeen in no time.

Vambran considered how best to mark his passage. Using the trident, he chipped off some of the coral along a flat area that was more or less vertical. The growth broke off in large chunks, exposing a lighter color beneath. The revealed surface didn’t appear to be natural rock, but what Vambran believed to be worked stone. Elated, he quickly chiseled away two more identical spots. He carefully rounded all three of them, making sure that they were sizeable enough to be seen from a considerable distance. Then he retreated from his work and looked down on it. From several vantage points, three dots were clearly visible, identical in formation to the three dots he bore on his brow.

Perfect, the lieutenant thought. They’ll figure that out.

Satisfied that he had left a reasonable trail, Vambran moved down toward the gap in the rock. He sat for a time, trying to build up his courage. He didn’t know if his hesitation was a fear of being sucked into a great blackness for a second time that day, or if he felt some sense of trespassing on a scene of ancient death. If the place was truly a portal into the forgotten ruins of Naarkolyth, he might very’ well be the first human to pass through its halls in over a millennium. The thought was both sobering and exhilarating.

Sitting on a rock under the ocean wasn’t helping anyone on the surface, Vambran convinced himself, and finally, he took hold of his holy coin and muttered a prayer. He worried briefly that the changes in his voice due to his gills might cause the magic to fail. With the final word of the spell, though, his coin glowed with a soft light.

Before the illumination could attract the attention

of predators or enemies nearby, Vambran ducked down and sized up the gap. The passage was wider and the way was easier than he had imagined. He slipped through the opening and found himself in a narrow gash in the rock. He disturbed a few fish and some crabs, which scuttled away at his approach.

The slit opened downward to the edge of his light and beyond and was so narrow that Vambran would not be able to maneuver much as he descended. He considered giving up and returning to the surface to wait for Serille and Arbeenok to find him, but his curiosity won out. The mercenary allowed himself to drift down through the crevice.

The rock became smoother as Vambran swam farther down, for no plant or coral could grow upon it without at least feeble light to feed on. The passage he was traversing eventually widened enough to become recognizable as a hallway or tunnel, and the thought sent chills down his spine. He was moving through a corridor that humans had walked hundreds of years earlier.

After descending into the unadorned passage for a few more moments, Vambran’s light suddenly illuminated a dead end. Silt and mud filled the bottom of the shaft and no other passage was visible. Disappointed, Vambran probed the silt with the butt end of the trident, hoping to find an opening, or some clue or secret, that would let him explore farther.

The lieutenant was on the verge of turning back when something caught his eye. A tiny plume of bubbles streamed forth from the stone wall of the shaft. Vambran got close to the trail of bubbles and peered at the stonework. He wasn’t certain, but a very small, very straight crack seemed to run the length of the rock.

A hidden passage? he wondered.

Vambran spent several minutes searching and discovered a barely discernable seam that looked like the outline of a hidden door. He tried pushing on the stone in various locations and examined other sections of the wall to locate a lever, stud, or other release mechanism, but his search was in vain.

Only mildly discouraged, the mercenary again considered returning to the open water to wait for his companions, but then he felt the familiar tingle of magic. Inspiration flowed through him and an understanding he couldn’t explain washed through his mind. The lieutenant believed he had the workings of a new arcane power at his fingertips. He simply knew, and though the feeling was startling, it wasn’t as unnerving as it had been the first time he had discovered the innate ability.

Thanking Waukeen for whatever role she had played in the manifestation of his power, Vambran placed his hands on the concealed portal once more and spoke a phrase that simply came to his mind. A low, deep click sounded and the stone shifted beneath his touch, settling slightly. Elated, Vambran started to push against the door to see if it would open, but - before he could react, a second click became audible and the door sank away, releasing a great burst of air that buffeted the mercenary.

At the same moment, a sudden suction took hold of the man, drawing him inextricably downward, into the hole he had created. As his body slid through the ever-widening gap in the stone, his trident wedged across the opening. He dangled for a moment, his iron-tight grip on the haft of the weapon keeping him from being sucked away by the force of the water. Huge bubbles surged upward out of the void beyond

the doorway, slamming into Vambran and tossing him about.

The lieutenant tried to pull himself out, tried to remember a spell that might rescue him, but the pain in his arm and shoulder became too great. With a frantic cry of fear, Vambran lost his grip on his weapon and shot downward into the darkness below.

For several long moments, no one moved.

Pilos had trouble believing what he had heard. Arrested?

Then chaos erupted in the halls of the temple of Waukeen as everyone began talking at once. The Abreeant heard someone shouting behind him, but all he could focus on were the doors to the council chamber, only steps away.

Arrested?

“Edilus, no!” Horial shouted, and Pilos whirled around to witness the growing commotion.

The druid had jerked his scimitar free and was menacing a tightening circle of temple guards, all of whom had a distinct advantage with the longer reach of their half-spears. Horial was trying to push past one of the guards, to stop Edilus before he drew blood. Somehow, he managed to convince the druid to lower his weapon. Adyan stood with his hands up, unthreatening, but Pilos could see that the sergeant’s jaw was clenched, for the scar along his chin was flexing. Grolo stood beside Adyan, jabbing his stubby finger into the chest of another guard, who was arguing right back.

Pilos had never seen so much uproar within the

confines of the temple, then he realized that it had begun prior to their arrival.

A guard attempted to take hold of the young priest by both arms and Pilos spun around, jerking his hands free. “No!” he said, shouting to be heard. “I must see the high priests, immediately!”