The Dragon Isles

Chapter Eleven

Mik struggled against the rope netting binding his arms and legs.

“We must reach the surface!” he said.”

“Friends… maybe… dying!” Trip burbled.

“Anyone on the surface is dead already,” said a raspy female voice. The voice was far clearer than Trip’s, or even Mik’s magically assisted tones-as though it had been born to deep waters. “Sea dragons don’t take prisoners, and Tempest is the worst of all,” the voice continued.

“A had break for sailors,” added the deep voice they’d heard laughing before, “but very good for our business.” This voice was just as clear as the first.

“Who are you?” Mik asked, peering into the shadowy deep. “What do you want?”

“Salvage,” the raspy voice, which was attached to the slender, swift-moving form, replied. “Even half-drowned sailors have some value.”

“We should go,” the deeper voice said. “The dragon isn’t far off. We should return to Reeftown.” A huge armored knight emerged from the shadows and began reeling in the net containing the captured mariners.

Mik and Trip glanced at each other in wonder.

“How…?” Trip blurted.

“Yes,” the raspy voice said, “we should hurry back. I want to see what our other salvage parties have brought to fatten my treasury. See to the prisoners, Shimmer.”

Shimmer, the underwater knight, nodded and said, “Yes, Lakuda.” As he drew closer to the captives, tightening the net as he came, his appearance became more defined. He was a tall man in shiny reddish armor decorated with fins, scales, and fishlike patterns. A spiky helmet completely covered his face.

The creature known as Lakuda swam forward with a few quick undulations of her lean body. Her black eyes peered at the prisoners in the weighted net. She was dressed in a combination of form-fitting black orca-leather and golden jewelry. Her face was thin and sharp-featured. She had tightly tied green hair and pointed ears. Even without her pale blue skin, Mik and Trip would have realized immediately that she was a sea elf.

Moving with the deadly grace of a razorfish, Lakuda regarded the prisoners with a cold, predatory smile. She poked a slender finger into Mik’s shoulder; he struggled.

“This one seems strong enough,” Lakuda said. “Tough, too, or he wouldn’t have survived in such good shape. Perhaps he’ll fetch something. The kender’s next to worthless, though. We should leave him for the sharks.”

“We’ve captured them,” Shimmer said. “We have a duty to keep them alive-at least until we reach home.”

Lakuda arched one eyebrow at him. “You’d do better if you abandoned such hopelessly idealistic notions, Shimmer,” she said. “They’re not profitable.” She swooped down and retrieved Mik’s knife and the kender’s daggers from where they’d settled into the silt, and tucked them into a bag.

“We were traveling with an aristocrat from Jotan,” Mik said. “Profit for her rescue would certainly be great.” The tightness of the net made it difficult to speak, even with aid of the necklace’s spell.

Lakuda gazed into Mik’s brown eyes, trying to determine whether he was telling the truth. “Don’t toy with me, sailor,” she said sternly.

Shimmer turned his armored head toward the surface, two-hundred and forty feet above.

“If anyone’s alive up there, they’ve either been taken by the dragon or by one of your other pods,” he advised Lakuda.

“You can… see all that… from down here?” Trip burbled, awed. He peered up but saw nothing.

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Lakuda said. “Come, Shimmer.” She put one of the lines securing the net over her shoulder and began to swim away.

Shimmer grunted and did the same.

“Is your shoulder acting up?” Lakuda asked.

“Not to worry about, Mistress,” Shimmer replied.

“We could swim along with you… if you let us free,” Mik suggested.

Lakuda laughed, a chilling sound rippling through the water. “And then you’d meekly follow us back to Reeftown to be ransomed.”

“Where else would we go?” Mik asked.

“I’ve never seen… a sea-elf city,” Trip bubbled, his eyes lighting up.

Lakuda ignored the kender. “You’d be fools to try to go anywhere,” she said. “That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t try, though. You’re already marked as fools to venture this far north. The continent is too far to swim, and no one enters the Dragon Isles-without permission.”

“We make a living off fools like you,” Shimmer added with a chuckle. “Business was good even before Tempest started patrolling these waters.”

“I’m Captain Mikal Vardan,” Mik said.

“Former captain, I’d say,” Lakuda interjected.

Mik fought down a wave of anger and continued, “… and this is my ace diver, Tripleknot Shellcracker.”

“Call me Trip,” burbled the kender. “Can we… call you, uh… Lakuda and Shimmer?”

Both scavengers pointedly ignored him as they continued to drag the bound captives forward.

Shimmer glanced at his companion, his orangish eyes shining from beneath his bronze helmet. “Hauling them to Reeftown would be easier if they would cooperate.”

Mik smiled. “Sure. Just cut us free, and…” He never finished his sentence.

As Shimmer turned toward the captives, he lifted the faceplate of his helmet ever so slightly. Beams of dazzling light shot out from the crack, filling the sea with multicolored brilliance.

A wave of dizziness swept over the shipwrecked captives. Mik’s senses reeled and he remembered no more.

When Mik woke again, he found himself bound by the waist to a long rope. Trip was tied behind him, like two caught fish on a line. Their hands had been tied as well, though their legs remained free for swimming. Lakuda darted in front of them, tugging on the rope; Shimmer brought up the rear. Mik’s cutlass had been confiscated and, along with the daggers they’d lost earlier, put into a bag-like net hanging from Shimmer’s right shoulder.

Whatever spell the Bronze Knight had used against them, the effects hadn’t lasted long. Mik recognized the wreckage of Kingfisher around them as they swam forward.

Occasionally, Lakuda or Shimmer would break away and scoop up a piece of debris from the ocean floor. They’d examine the item and then either stuff it into one of the pouches hanging from their belts, or drop it back into the silt.

As they passed a large tangle of ropes and chains, Mik’s heart fell. There, amid the wreckage lay the body of Pamak. Parts of his torso had been bitten away, and his bloated tongue lolled horribly out of his mouth. His eyes peered, unseeing, into the endless deep. Already hagfish and other sea scavengers had begun to strip the flesh from his bones.

Shimmer paused a minute to yank the chain free from the tangle. Pamak’s body danced horribly, like a puppet on a string.

Hatred for these heartless scavengers welled up within Mik’s breast. He lunged forward, an incoherent scream on his lips.

The move yanked Shimmer off his feet and caused the knight to plunge into the silt Lakuda darted back and swung the haft of her spear into the back of Mik’s head.

The sea filled with bright points of light, and Mik’s face smashed into the mud. A moment later, Shimmer’s big hand jerked him up again. Mik blinked and tried to regain his senses.

Lakuda pointed her spear at the sailor’s chest “Try anything like that again.” she said, “and IT gladly run you through”

“He was part of my crew,” Mik said.

Lakuda’s black eyes narrowed. “Now he’s just fish food.”

They swam in silence for a long time after that. Lakuda snaked through the water in front of them; Shimmer plodded along behind, a large sack of loot on his armored back. The wreckage of Kingfisher soon disappeared into the indigo darkness.

Mik couldn’t tell whether they were headed toward the isles or away. Their captors swam swiftly over the sparse patches of seaweed and coral. Clearly Lakuda and Shimmer knew the sea bed as well as Mik knew the stars at night.

The constant swimming soon fatigued the sailor and Trip. Lakuda and Shimmer pulled them along if they flagged, the ropes tugging uncomfortably at the captives’ middles.

“Maybe I don’t want to see a sea-elf city after all,” Trip moaned.

“We’re not scuttled vet,” Mik said in a low voice.

Shimmer and Lakuda never seemed to tire, nor did they stop for food. Soon Mik found his eyes drifting shut despite his discomfort.

Entirely without realizing it he crossed into the land of dreams. There he sailed a fine, proud ship, larger and newer than Kingfisher. Old friends, some long dead, others he’d left behind on this voyage, manned the ship. They dived for pearls and recovered sunken treasure. Trip clung to the rigging and prowled the deck, constantly getting underfoot. Mik smiled and breathed the clean salt air. The wind tugged at his hair and raised goose-bumps on his dark skin.

“Mik, look!” the kender burbled.

Mik blinked, and immediately the aches of captivity returned to his limbs. He felt the deep sea currents tugging at his hair and clothes, and he tasted the pristine magical air as it filled his lungs. “Trip?” he asked sleepily.

“The city! Look!”

Mik raised his weary head and gazed where Trip indicated.

Ahead of them, the ocean shimmered blue with flickering iridescent light. Within the glow, an amazing conglomeration of architecture rose from the ocean floor. Houses formed of coral, seaweed, and pieces of sunken ships dotted the submarine canyon. Each dwelling lay piled on top of the next, as the jumbled village reached toward the unseen surface far above.

Mountainous reefs surrounded the canyon in a horseshoe shaped wall, forming a natural bowl protecting the strange village. A tangled mesh of seaweed, like a living net, defended the front of the settlement. Sea elf guards swam patrol just outside of the netting.

Elves, fish, rays, and many aquatic creatures that Mik couldn’t recognize darted in and out of Reeftown’s gently swaying architecture. Tiny glowing life forms sped among the coral canyons like shooting stars flitting through the night sky. Cool blue and green lights leaked from windows cut into coral walls, or filtered between the cracks in the houses’ odd construction. Some buildings looked like huge seaweed cocoons, while others were formed from the rotting cabins of submerged galleons.

“It’s beautiful,” murmured Trip.