The Dragon Isles

Chapter Twelve

“Yes… beautiful,” Mik replied. In his mind, though, a picture of the northern butterfly fish formed. It was a beautiful creature, arrayed in featherlike multi-colored scales. Each tip of its delicate-looking raiment, though, ended in a spine coated with deadly poison. That is how Reeftown looked to him.

They swam toward the titanic fronds of kelp circling the town’s perimeter. The living barrier swayed gently in the current. Two Dargonesti sentries stood guard beside a coral gateway in a rocky wall at the foot of the weeds.

“Flimsy-looking… defense,” Trip bubbled.

“Say that after the weeds have snapped your neck, crushed you, and left your body as fodder for the sharks,” Shimmer replied.

“Test it, if you like,” Lakuda added.

The kender might have tried it, if he hadn’t been tethered to Mik. As it was, his wide hazel eyes scanned the fence’s perimeter, hoping that someone else might give it a go.

As the four of them approached the coral gate, a lance-toting sentry in turtle-shell armor stepped up to meet them. He bowed low.

“Felicitous greetings at your return, Townboss Lakuda,” he said.

“I trust your forage was successful,” added an elf woman, wearing golden seashells and carrying a trident, who stood at the gate beside the turtle-shelled guard.

“Volrek… Tila,” Lakuda replied, giving the man and woman a nod in acknowledgement.

The sentries stepped out of the way to let the Townboss of Reeftown pass.

“We’ve sent the other foragers straight to your villa, milady,” Tila said. “It seems a fair haul.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Lakuda said to the woman.

Tila bowed.

Mik and Trip exchanged a nervous glance.

Lakuda, Shimmer, and their captives passed through the gate into Reeftown. During the brief stop at the gate, Mik and Trip had recovered enough energy to swim along with their captors-which was better than being dragged.

Mik saw now that their previous observations about Reeftown were in error. Close up, the village looked less like a proud, undersea city and more like a refuse heap. The town was mainly composed of cast-offs and marine junk. The buildings seemed shabby and in ill repair. Scavenger eels circled through the streets, gobbling up pieces of rotten wood and decaying seaweed.

Despite the sorry state of most of the construction, the town pulsed with life. Sea elves bustled to and fro, swimming down the avenues, over and through the buildings.

Most of the inhabitants looked a bit ragged themselves. Certainly none had the proud grace and beauty of Ula, nor did they match the rakish vigor and confidence of Lakuda. None were as large or powerful-looking as Shimmer, either.

As they swam by, a number of the locals called out to them. Many shouted congratulations to Lakuda and Shimanloreth for another successful hunt. More than a few laughed at the captives and derided their situation.

“You won’t get much for those, milady!” one elf called.

“Why not slit their wrists and leave them for the sharks?” added another. “Fish food is all they’re good for!”

“Let them float back to the surface where they belong!” called a third. “We don’t need their kind in Reeftown.”

Lakuda merely chuckled in reply.

In short order they arrived before a huge structure leaning against the lofty coral escarpment at the far end of town. Boss Lakuda’s undersea hall combined the best and worst of Reeftown architecture. In places the reef had been shaped into towers, which jutted out from the cliff face at odd angles, like the spines of a huge sea urchin. Corridors of woven seaweed connected some of the turrets. Others debouched into huge shells or the hulls of sunken ships.

The sides of Lakuda’s reef glittered with luminescent undersea life. From a distance, it looked like a huge, glowing gem. Up close, though, it had the same decrepit, thrown-together appearance as the rest of Reeftown. Seaweed netting like that at the gate surrounded the hall, and armed guards swam patrol around the perimeter.

Lakuda led her captives to a big door at the head of a long coral corridor stretching from the manor out to the protective netting.

A muscular elf with a trident stood beside the door with another guard. The elf bowed, then he and his companion unlocked the big door and stepped aside.

Lakuda, Shimmer, and their captives swam through a long, iridescent, tube-shaped corridor into the interior of the hall. The entryway debouched into a huge grottolike room, with exits on many levels and no stairways. Four guards hovered by a huge golden double door near the top of the chamber. Servants bustled through the room, towing sacks and nets behind them as they swam from one corridor into the next.

Lakuda headed for the golden door, with Mik and the rest trailing behind. She bobbed her head to the lead sentry.

“Lady Lakuda,” he said deferentially, bowing.

He rose and opened the door. They swam into a wide passageway with arching white ribs that supported a curving tube made of a pink, pearl-like substance. The corridor was short and emptied into a big room that appeared to be the interior of a massive conch shell.

Lakuda tossed the rope holding the captives to Shimmer and flicked across the room. She swam to a swath of golden netting on the far side and arranged herself comfortably within it. Several guards appeared from the seaweed curtains on either side of Lakuda’s ‘throne’ as she settled in.

“That’s better,” she purred. “Home at last.” The Townboss folded her skinny arms over her gold-encrusted chest and smiled. Her dark eyes strayed to a large seashell, brimming with treasure, hanging in the center of the room.

“A good haul today, milady,” one of the guards said.

Lakuda nodded tersely. “Shimmer,” she said, “combine our booty with the rest-per our custom. I’ll divide it tomorrow, after all this outing’s foragers have returned.”

Shimmer nodded and emptied out the netting sacks he’d been carrying. “What about… them?” he asked, glancing at Mik and Trip.

“Take the prisoners to the holding chambers while we make a determination of their worth,” she replied. “And make sure you relieve them of any valuables we haven’t discovered yet.”

“Yes, Townboss,” Shimmer said with a slight nod.

He dragged Mik and Trip toward a curtained exit on the left side of the chamber and two guards escorted the group that way.

Shimmer pulled the seaweed curtain aside, then turned back to Lakuda. “I’ll return shortly,” he said.

“Of course,” Lakuda replied with sly smile. “I look forward to it, Shimanloreth.”

Shimmer turned away and swam with the prisoners and guards down a long coral tube that slanted at first into the reef, then turned upward once more. They passed through several side passages and soon came to a chamber that was only half filled with water.

Two more guards stood just below the water’s surface, guarding the chamber beyond. They stepped aside to let Shimmer and the others through. The bronze knight led the captives up out of the water onto a shelf above the pool. A corridor stretched away from the pool into the darkness.

Shimmer unbound the captives while the guards pointed their spears at Mik and Trip. Trip hopped up and down, shaking his head, trying to get the water out of his ears.

“What happens now?” Mik asked.

“Now you wait,” Shimmer replied uncomfortably.

“What kind of name is Shimanloreth?” the kender asked. “Solamnic? I’ve never heard of an undersea knight before. Does the salt water get inside your armor? Does it itch? How do you breathe? Is it a spell, or in the armor? Has the armor been giving you trouble since all the world’s magic began to fade?”

“Hold your tongue, kender,” Shimmer said. He held out one large, bronze-armored hand. “I’ll take your breathing devices, please.”

Reluctantly, Mik removed his fish necklace; Trip leaned forward and spat the remnants of his magical seaweed into Shimmer’s palm. The bronze knight’s orangish eyes narrowed behind his visor.

He handed the necklace and the wad of magical seaweed to one of the guards and said, “Follow me. There’s a living chamber at the far end of the corridor. It’s dry enough that you should be comfortable, and even has a view of the city. You’ll be fed regularly-if not well-and you won’t be mistreated. Trying to escape will just get you killed, so there’s no point in attempting it.”

“We wouldn’t want to cut into your profits by dying,” Mik said.

“Stay out of trouble and you may see your homes again one day,” Shimmer replied stoically.

“Can we get a tour of the city?” Trip asked. “I’d really like a look around.”

If Shimmer was amused, his bronze-helmeted face didn’t show it. “You may see more of Reeftown than you want before your captivity is over, kender,” he said. “Get moving, now.”

With an insincere bow, Mik turned and walked away from the pool toward the inner chamber. Trip skipped along beside him, with Shimmer bringing up the rear. As they went, voices drifted to them up the coral hallway.

“It sounds like we have company,” Mik said.

Trip’s small face brightened. “Hey!” he said. “I recognize that voice!”

Mik smiled as he recognized it, too. With just a brief glance at his companion, he ran the last few steps into the chamber; Trip followed right behind.

Shimmer stopped dead at the entrance of the room, while his captives sprinted ahead.

Trip’s childlike face broke into a huge grin as he saw his former shipmate, and shouted, “Ula!”