The Dragon Isles

Chapter Thirty-Five

Mog watched as a large contingent of surface creatures dropped down into his domain.

First came the young ship captain, followed by the kender, then the sea elf, a bronze knight and a brass one. Then these were followed by a helmeted woman and two more brass-garbed swimmers.

The dragonspawn hid himself behind the keel of the galleon, lest they detect his presence. A tingling in his spine told him that other agents of Tempest lurked nearby. Soon, he would have need of them. Soon they would wrest the treasure from these pale, fleshy creatures and open the Veil for their mistress.

Then Glorious Tempest would invade the Dragon Isles, and Mog and his kin would feast on the flesh of humans and elves.

As the divers moved away from the ship and sank into the deep, Mog left his hiding place and followed-cautious to remain out of sight.

Mik led the treasure hunters into the depths. The sea water quickly faded from clear as glass, to blue, indigo, and then black. Mik and Trip’s magic-assisted eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom. The water-born senses of Ula and Shimmer needed no such aid.

Nor did the fish living in the dark waters. Many sported huge eyes to navigate and find their prey. Others had grown their own lights, for purposes of mating or communication. The black waters twinkled with their presence-a starry sky within the ocean deep. A barrelmouth shark swept past; it looked fierce, with jaws wide enough to swallow a man, but Mik knew it was harmless. Barrelmouths had no teeth and fed only on tiny shrimp.

Without warning, light burst around them. Mik blinked and whirled, his scimitar in his hand. It was only Kell and his warriors, though. Small gems set atop their brass helmets shone with bright white light.

“Put those bloody things out!” Ula hissed. “Do you want everything down here to know we’re coming?”

“Dim them,” Mik added. “There isn’t anything to see here anyway. What we want is on the bottom-the deepest night-and that’s still a long way down.”

Kell ordered his warriors to turn off their lights and did the same himself. They left Karista’s light on but dimmed it to a dull red glow. The aristocrat sweated uncomfortably within her metal helmet, even though the artifact’s powerful magic protected her from the cold and pressure of the deep.

Several times, the brass warriors spun to face something flashing through the water, only to discover it was merely Trip in his sea serpent cloak. The kender swam rings around the rest of them, like a playful dolphin.

“I’ll admit,” Ula whispered to Mik, “that cloak is impressive.”

They snaked down ever farther into the deep. The blackness closed in around them as the luminous sea life grew progressively less numerous.

“Is anyone else cold?” Karista asked, her teeth chattering. “I feel strangely cold.”

One of Kell’s warriors took a moment to adjust the position of a dial which controlled the spell on the aristocrat’s helmet. “Thank you,” Karista said. “That’s much better.”

Mog knew his time had almost come. The small Turbidus leech attached to his spine wriggled and burned as the dragonspawn sent out his telepathic call.

The message summoned Tempest’s other minions lurking inside the Veil. They came swiftly-sharks, razorfish, and other evil fish-all trailing the tiny Turbidus leeches with which Tempest poisoned and controlled their minds. Mog felt them connected to him as he was connected to her.

When the mistress came, she would release thousands of her beloved Turbidus leeches. They would swarm the tepid waters of the Dragon Isles and make the denizens of the islands their own. Legions of creatures would join her blackhearted troops: humans, elves, minotaurs. Some had fallen already; soon all would be hers.

Mog reveled in the presence of his allies. He pictured them swarming through the seas, following him to battle. He imagined the blood of their enemies staining the seas red. He relished the hot, salty taste of his victims’ vital fluids.

He longed for this pleasure. Perhaps it was not too soon to sample it. Slowly he drew closer to his prey, looking for a straggler-a weakling who could slake his thirst Acid saliva ran across his fangs and made his black tongue tingle.

He chose a victim and waited for the moment to pounce.

“I see the bottom!” Trip called back to the others. He swung low over the seabed before arcing back up to his friends. “There’s a huge canyon-but I don’t see any sign of a temple.”

“Perhaps the temple is within the canyon,” Kell suggested.

Trip held his kender treasure finder out before him. He moved it back and forth over the course they might take. As it passed the canyon, the necklace began to spin wildly.

“Something’s down there, all right,” Trip said.

“Are we going to trust that dubious magical device?” Karista Meinor asked.

“I see no other course,” Kell replied.

Trip beamed. “I’ll scout ahead.”

“Stay out of trouble,” Mik said.

The kender nodded and sped down into the canyon.

“You and your people go first, Vardan,” Kell said. “We’ll turn up our lights and follow behind so as not to obscure your vision.”

Mik nodded, and he and Ula darted ahead with Shimmer just behind. The bronze knight swam more slowly and less gracefully than he had before his wounding by Tanalish. Kell came next with Karista at his side. The two brass warriors brought up the rear.

The walls of the undersea canyon sprang up around them-towering cliffs disappearing into the indigo waters both above and below. Fissures pockmarked the sides of the defile. Some of these bubbled with hot water and brackish clouds that looked like black smoke.

Strange undersea creatures swam past them as they ventured into the deep canyon: white, eyeless shrimp as big as a man’s hand; long, luminous eels whose guts they could see inside the fishes’ transparent bodies; hideous sharptoothed fish that seemed all head and eyes and no body; a slender octopus that flashed with the colors of the rainbow, and tiny clouds of orange-white krill. A redtip shark dipped down from above, but darted away when Kell’s people turned their lights on it.

Trip reported back at regular intervals, though his findings consisted mainly of, “More canyon. I’m sure we’re going the right way, though.”

Gradually, the canyon ceiling began to close over them. Black, jagged coral sprang from the pockmarked walls and knitted together like huge knotted brambles. Long, pale seaweed intertwined with it, forming an impassible wall of spikes and tangled netting.

Karista glanced around nervously. “Much farther and we shall find ourselves trapped.”

“We can always return the way we came,” Mik replied.

As they swam cautiously forward, the bottom of the canyon loomed into view. It, too, was covered with the strange thorny coral and pale weeds. As the canyon closed in around them, they felt as though they were swimming down the gullet of some thorny aquatic beast.

They passed huge, carved columns, each as large as Kell’s galley, lying broken among the weeds and spikes. They also saw the skeletons of ancient ships poking out amid the wreckage.

Ahead, the living tunnel opened up into the vast, dark sea once more. Beyond the opening loomed a pale shape of towering pillars, curving walls, and domes.

“The undersea Temple!” Mik crowed.

They swam ahead heedlessly as the canyon walls closed in around them. Soon, the divers were passing through a narrow tunnel of pale weeds and sharp black coral.

Something blocked their way. It was ethereal, cloudlike, and huge. The pallid form obscured the shapes of the temple behind it, while not blotting out the architecture entirely.

“A jellyfish?” Trip asked.

Ula shook her head. “It’s not one creature,” she said, focusing her keen elven eyes on the thing. “It’s many.”

“Crabs!” Shimanloreth said.

Tiny albino crustaceans swarmed over them, pinching and biting. The creatures were only the size of a child’s ear, but had oversized serrated pincers on their eight limbs, and wicked beaklike mouths. The four eyes atop the stalks on their thorny heads glowed with an eerie green light. The movement of the school made an unnerving clattering sound, like knives running across old bones. The crabs paddled swiftly with their oarlike legs, surrounding the divers like a school of piranha. They wheedled their way under clothes and between cracks in armor. The treasure hunters swatted at them, but there were just too many.

“Fall back!” Kell cried. “Split up! They can’t follow us all.”

“No!” Mik countered. “Stay together! Work together!” He and Ula swam back to back, protecting each other. Shimmer went with them, but the cloud of crabs forced him apart from the others.

Kell and his warriors quickly vanished back into the darkness, their cries of frustration and pain drifting through the deep.

Trip had disappeared entirely.

Mog’s chosen target struggled amid the tiny, swarming creatures and the tangled weeds.

With sharklike speed, the dragonspawn shot forward, claws extended. His talons bit through flesh, filling the water with tasty blood. He grabbed his prey and dragged the squirming, bleeding victim into the weeds to feast.