The Coral Kingdom

17

"We're close now," Robyn announced, full of certainty. She didn't try to explain her assurance, nor did any question it. Faith had guided them across hundreds of miles of the Trackless Sea. Now that same faith told the queen that her husband was near.

Sunrise cloaked the Princess of Moonshae in a fine mist, but pale blue already domed overhead with the promise of a clear day. A good breeze had carried them through the night, and now it ruffled the sea into cheery whitecaps.

The longship left a swath of wake through the swells, cresting each and pouncing forward to the next as if the vessel herself sensed the nearness of their goal. Alicia stood in the bow, wanting only to finish the voyage soon-for better or worse.

The Helm of Zulae, still sitting on a rowing bench before the mast, gleamed in the first rays of sun to break the mist. Alicia looked at the powerful artifact and at the vast expanse of featureless sea. How could they possibly know when to dive, where Tristan was held below the unchanging waters?

Her mother, however, had no such doubts. Robyn, too, remained in the bow of the longship, her eyes closed in concentration. Tristan's presence grew in her heart and her mind, filling her with hope and determination. Finally, less than an hour after the pale dawn, she turned back to Brandon. From his position beside the helm, the sea captain looked at her expectantly, and she raised her head in affirmation.

"It's time," Robyn said softly, the words carrying clearly to every member of the crew.

Brandon nodded. News of the impending descent washed swiftly through the ship, and the men alternately looked upward at the sun, knowing that they might be beholding it for the last time, and down at the suddenly menacing sea. Would those waters soon swallow them?

"Ready with the helm," cried Brandon. Hanrald and Brigit picked up the artifact and carried the gleaming object to the bow, where they stood behind the figurehead and awaited Brandon's next command.

"Steady on the rudder," the captain instructed Knaff, who stood at his usual post. "Furl the sail, lash down anything loose, and ship the oars!"

His crew leaped to obey, every man determined to do his best. The familiarity of the tasks lent necessary stability to the strange prospects before them. Knaff himself tested the horizontal rudder they had affixed, insuring that the wide, short stabilizer could move freely up and down.

"Can it work?" asked Alicia, only half-joking as she stood beside Keane and watched the enchanted figurehead.

"Don't you think it's a little late to wonder about that?" replied the magic-user. Alicia laughed, though Keane hadn't intended the remark to be humorous. She took his arm and he sighed-sadly, she thought. The two of them turned their attention to the captain, and the princess felt Keane's arm tighten beneath her clasp. Unconsciously she clasped him more firmly.

"All stand by!" Brandon cried, looking once more at the sky. If the Prince of Gnarhelm was nervous, however, he didn't betray it in his posture or his voice.

"Now!" he called sharply, chopping downward once with his hand.

Hanrald and Brigit smoothly raised the Helm of Zulae over the wooden figurehead. Carefully they lowered it, pleased as the smooth silver headpiece came to rest firmly on the female features of the proud carving. The helm seemed to shrink slightly, so that it rested firmly on its wooden perch.

Immediately the longship settled lower into the water, with an unsettling lurch that was obvious to every member of the crew. Before anyone had time for second thoughts, Brandon looked at his helmsman with a grim smile. "Let's go," he said.

Knaff instantly pushed down on the horizontal rudder, driving the wedged platform into the water at the vessel's stern. The maneuver raised the longship's after quarter, angling the bow downward into the waves.

Alicia felt a slight tilting of the deck below her feet, and suddenly the horizon canted to the side. She grasped the gunwale with her left hand, still clutching Keane's arm with her right, as the Princess of Moonshae's prow sliced through the surface of the sea.

Waves rolled to either side, and the sensation that the ship was sinking underneath her was impossible to avoid. Frothing, angry turbulence to port and starboard surged higher and higher, until it rolled above them, but none of the water spilled into the hull.

More and more of the ship plunged beneath the surface, until the roiling maelstrom formed a tube enclosing the forward half of the vessel. Alicia, standing amidships, took a last look at the sun, and then white water surrounded her. She turned aft and saw Knaff the Elder's teeth clenched in determination as the stern of the longship followed the rest of the vessel under the surface of the sea.

She looked along the length of the hull, upward through a column of air, like seeing the blue sky through a window or from a hole deep in the ground. Then foaming brine closed over the rudder, and the ship slipped below the surface of the green, rolling water.

Suddenly, and pleasantly, the turbulence around them settled. No longer was the water white and frothing. Instead, it flowed past them above and below in a smooth green wall. Only where the mast broke the dome overhead did a line of wake appear. To the rear of the ship, a foaming trail bubbled as water closed behind the Princess of Moonshae while she moved through the sea.

The helm masking the longship's proud figurehead propelled them forward, and if they moved slower than on the surface, no one thought of complaining. The dome of air remained over the crew, the air pocket shaped very much like a second hull, the same shape and size of the longship's.

"She's girded for war now," Keane observed softly, with a long look at the silver-helmed figurehead. He might have spoken of the whole ship, Alicia thought. They were all ready for war.

Grim-faced crewmen sat at their benches, staring at the green water flowing past a few feet from their faces. Awed by the powerful magic, none of the sailors broke the silence. Instead, they clutched weapons close at hand and maintained a wary watch on the sea.

We can do it! Alicia felt the strongest thrill of hope she had known since their quest began. They sailed under the sea! With a moment's guilt, she admitted to herself that she had never fully convinced herself that the helm would work. Of course, there remained the matter of finding her father and vanquishing any of his captors who stood in their way, but these seemed minor concerns to the princess. Anticipation consumed her. Her emotions surged closer to joy than they had in several bleak months.

A gray shape flashed through the green water, catching her eye with a start. She thought she saw another, and then a third. Alicia strained to look. Illumination in the boat was weak, filtered as it was through a steadily increasing blanket of brine, and she wondered if the shapes had been products of her imagination. Then she saw rows of teeth inside a gaping mouth lunging from the water toward her face!

"Shark!" cried the princess, drawing her sword as she quickly stepped backward. The complacency of her earlier mood vanished in the instant of attack. Inches from her skin, grotesque jaws snapped shut with a loud slap, but before she could stab with her weapon, the hateful snout disappeared into the water.

"Help!" shrieked a crewman, and Alicia whirled to lay horrified eyes upon the northman writhing in pain, the jaws of a huge shark clamped on his shoulder. He twisted and screamed, trying to lunge toward the center of the hull. The rear half of the great fish remained in the water as it struggled to pull the fellow from the hull.

Several of his comrades leaped to his aid, driving the shark back with blows of sword and axe, and finally the fish released its victim. The man collapsed to the deck, groaning piteously, as blood spurted from torn skin and flesh.

"Over here-look out!" Shouts of alarm rang through the hull. The Princess of Moonshae shuddered repeatedly to the bumps of dozens of blunt heads bashing into the timbers of the hull.

Water exploded into the boat across from Alicia. She turned just in time to see several huge sharks almost thrash free from the green sea. Their jaws closed over the arm and head of a stunned northman, and before the wretch could even scream, they dragged him back into the protection of the briny liquid. The princess whirled just in time to stab a shark that had lunged at her unprotected back. A scream from the bow told her another crewman had not been so quick or so fortunate.

"Stand them off!" shouted Brandon, chopping wildly at the churning water with his axe and driving one of the piscine carnivores back, but only for a moment. Another fellow, one of the Corwellian bowmen, screamed as a huge shark dragged him into the water.

Robyn stood in the stern and made a snap decision. Turning to the transom, she dove into the water. At the same time, she called upon the power of the goddess, a power she had used often before, but never in this way.

She shifted her body into the form of an animal with the ease of long practice, but this time-as her limbs turned to fins and her head formed a long, bullet-headed snout-she forced herself to grow. Her size expanded far beyond the limitations of human mass. The power drained her resources but infused the druid with might now, when she needed it most. There would be time later to recover, or so she hoped.

Quickly Robyn grew, her shape stretching, narrowing to a driving muscular tail. Patches of white and black appeared across her skin, and the powerful flukes of her tail drove the great mammal forward. Air exploded from the hole at the back of her neck, and she opened a cavernous mouth, knowing that teeth had multiplied and grown there, longer and sharper than any shark's.

The ravenous killers still swarmed around the Princess of Moonshae, intent upon their quarry-so much so that the swift onslaught of a killer whale into their midst came as a complete surprise. Robyn attacked with savage fury, her love for her husband and daughter magnified, it seemed, into a consuming maternal rage by the great body encasing her.

In seconds, a dozen sharks floated, ripped and lifeless, in the wake of the onrushing mammal. More suffered the crushing bite as the whale surged on, and many not killed were left crippled in the water, irresistible prey for their cruel and ravenous fellows. Great jaws slashed and crushed, and though many of the fish turned to snap at the whale, they couldn't slow her driving attack. The druid felt the tearing pain of sharp teeth raking her flanks, slashing her fins and tail, yet she drove forward in relentless onslaught.

Sensing the need for air in her great lungs, Robyn propelled herself upward, drawing the enraged sharks into slashing pursuit. She rose quickly, beating them to the surface and exploding into dazzling sunlight. Exhaling with a burst of steam, the great mammal then drew in a large lungful of air. Then, twisting gracefully in the air, she dove into the midst of the shark pack.

Crushing with her powerful tail, biting and slashing with her massive jaws, the killer whale again tore through the savage fish, again ignored frenzied jaws that ripped at her own skin. More and more of the sharks turned toward easy feeding on the carcasses of their mates, slain by the deadly whale. Those who still dove after the longship Robyn pursued, attacking without mercy, biting to at least cripple each shark that came within range of her jaws.

Finally the harrying carnivores fell away, discouraged and defeated by the druid in the body of a whale. They circled in the distance, menacing and patient until Robyn rushed at them. Then the fish scattered in the face of her ominous approach, and by the time the whale turned back to the longship, the sharks had lost interest in their mission. The survivors returned to partake of the feast that their heavy casualties had provided them.

The Princess of Moonshae continued to descend away from her, but the druid circled warily for several minutes, ensuring that the vicious fish did not return. Finally, convinced that they would remain content with their current spoils of battle, she rose once more to the surface, breaking into the sun and spouting steam from her nostrils. Drawing a deep lungful of air, she lifted her tail to the sky and dove.

Like a sleek harpoon she plummeted into the depths, soon making out the incongruous shape of the proud longship coursing forward through its alien environment. The killer whale swam to the ship, and as she reached the pocket of air, Robyn allowed her body to return to its human form.

Wearily the queen tumbled into the longship, where she barely felt welcoming hands lift her to the deck, laying her down gently and spreading a warm blanket across her. As if from a great distance, she saw that her legs and arms were covered with bites, many of them bleeding. The whale hadn't escaped the battle unscathed.

Then, as Alicia and Tavish knelt to tend her wounds, darkness rose around her and the High Queen slipped away.

Again Tristan's lungs felt as if they would burst. All around him pressed dark water, dragging against his body from the force of his movement. He clung to the strap of leather, feeling the sea rush past his body, sensing the impenetrable depths yawning for great distances around him. Yet still he held on and held his breath. . until at last his lungs could stand it no longer.

Then, as he had been instructed, he exhaled.

He felt the cloud of bubbles ripple along his chest and knew a momentary panic at his lack of air. Then he felt a body beside him, hands seizing his head and other lips pressing to his own. Eagerly Tristan opened his mouth and inhaled, feeling a welcome rush of oxygen enter his lungs.

That's one, he told himself as he again determined to hold his breath as long as he could. One of the mermen had given him air-another precious minute or two of survival here in the alien deep.

Marqillor had explained it to him: Each merman could breathe underwater, through the use of gills located at the nape of the creature's neck. Though the creatures also had lungs, these organs were not used when a merman swam underwater. Thus the aquatic humanoid could take a lungful of air and hold it, just like any human swimmer, except that the air would not be depleted by use, since the merman didn't need it.

But Tristan did. Again he reached the limit of his endurance and gasped out a cloud of bubbles, and another merman swam before him and gave him the gift of air.

Two, the human silently tallied.

Marqillor had also explained the limitations. While all the mermen had taken a breath of air before they left the dungeon, they could not generate additional oxygen in their lungs while they swam. The use of the gills bypassed the air-breathing organs entirely. Thus Tristan could count on but one breath from each of his companions, and he knew they had to swim for several miles.

There were thirteen mermen in the party. Marqillor hadn't been specific about their destination, except to promise him that there would be air in Kyrasti, the domed palace of the Coral Kingdom.

All Tristan had to do was make his thirteen precious lungfuls last that far.

The king of the Ffolk held on to a leather belt around Marqillor's waist, so that none of Tristan's energy was expended in swimming. Even if he had two good hands, he could never have hoped to approach the speed the merman attained with no difficulty while hauling his ungainly human cargo.

Vaguely he sensed that it grew darker around them, and he knew they swam down some kind of tunnel. He saw turbulence ahead and heard strange cries ringing through the water, followed by the sharp clicking sounds of underwater combat. The mermen had stumbled upon several sea troll guards and swam into the midst of the guardpost, furiously attacking their hated foes. Marqillor's warriors slammed into the larger creatures, bashing them with their muscular tails.

One of the scrags whirled, thrusting a sharp trident through the body of a speeding merman. Air and blood escaped the body in a foaming cloud as the unfortunate creature sank, motionless, toward the bottom. Other mermen slashed in, quickly disarming the scrag and then beating the sea trolls into senselessness.

The crucial count continued, amid darkness and pressure and the eternal chill of the ocean depth. Five, eight, finally ten of the mermen sustained Tristan with the breath of their lungs. They swam above a deep chasm, with cliff walls plummeting to inky black depths below him, and then they crested a low wall. Once again a huge pair of scrags floated before them, but the mermen attacked mercilessly, and by the time Tristan reached the scene of the fight, little more than bubbles floated in the water to indicate where the two sea trolls had stood their guard. Most of the mermen were armed by now, bearing weapons they had acquired from slain guards.

Then the eleventh merman gave Tristan the breath of life, and he tried not to think of the few minutes of air that remained. He knew that one of his escorts had been slain, so he suspected he had one more breath available to him. If they didn't reach some sort of cave before then. .

Abruptly he noticed growing illumination in the water around them, and then they plunged through an undersea doorway, bursting into a huge circular chamber. Several monstrous sea trolls, the largest specimens Tristan had yet seen, surged toward them as Marqillor darted upward, dragging Tristan behind him. The human king growled in silent frustration. With his lone hand holding on to the merman's belt, he didn't even have a fist with which to defend himself.

In another moment, however, the merman and the human broke through the surface. Tristan exhaled and gasped for breath, thrashing his arms to tread water. Only after his straining lungs had recovered did he take notice of the fight that raged around him.

A huge ceiling curved overhead, creating a great domed chamber. Only the top portion of the room contained air, but Tristan saw several niches in the walls just above the water level. The human splashed over to one of these while he tried to make out the murky figures below him.

Pale emerald light spilled into the room through crystal panels in the ceiling of the chamber, much like the windows that had illuminated his cell except that these were much larger. In that light, Tristan saw figures darting through the water below, mermen fighting with their tails and captured weapons as they rushed the palace guards.

A monstrous sahuagin, dark green, with a spiny ridge along its back, sprang upward from the dais in the center of the chamber where it had previously floated. Tristan saw golden chains trailing from the creature's neck and suspected that the creature must be one of the masters of Kyrasti-perhaps even Sythissal himself! The human clutched his steel dagger as he saw the beast swimming toward him.

The monstrous beast broke the surface of the water in a cloud of spray, reaching a taloned hand toward Tristan's leg but recoiling as the blade slashed toward the green-scaled limb. The fishman settled back into the water, its spiny dorsal ridge cutting a streak through the brine as it dove out of reach. Whirling, the monster fixed the human with a hate-filled stare.

Tristan felt a hot flush of combative joy. Battle had been joined, and the outcome now depended on speed and strength and skill. The sensation brought back a flood of emotions-not so much memories as impressions. He remembered the fierce delight of hard-won victories, the bleak despair of defeat. Fear and fury, triumph and grief-he was certain he had known them all.

And he knew that most of his battles had been victories.

"Fight me, lizard!" Tristan challenged, ready to battle the creature then and there. His missing hand was insignificant. His righteous rage, he believed, made him the match of the larger sahuagin.

But the monster apparently lacked courage to equal its physical size. It turned and dove toward the bottom of the chamber, seeking the great dais or one of the exit corridors Tristan could see in the wall at the base of the dome.

Now, however, all the other sahuagin had perished. Only mermen swarmed around the monstrous fishman. Several of Marqillor's warriors seized the big sahuagin by its flailing limbs, dragging it to the surface and casting the beast unceremoniously into the niche where Tristan lay.

"This is Sythissal, King of Kressilacc-a prize captive indeed," Marqillor explained. He cast a scornful look at the enemy lord as the sahuagin backed into the corner, prodded by several tridents in the hands of mermen.

"An old enemy of mine," added Tristan Kendrick, studying the scaly face. Sythissal bared his teeth in a snarl.

"And of Deepvale," spat Marqillor, driving himself out of the water with a single flick of his powerful tail. He sat next to Tristan, facing the sahuagin lord.

"Are we trapped here?" asked the human king.

"Sanamarl has barred the doors," explained Marqillor, gesturing to one of his comrades in the water below their niche. Tristan saw one merman-Sanamarl, obviously-swim a quick circle around the periphery of the dome.

"Even now," continued the merman prince, "a few of my best men have made a break for freedom, striking out for home before we reached the palace. If they're successful, they may be able to bring help. Deepvale is not terribly distant, though admittedly it would be a costly venture to send our army against Kyrasti."

Tristan looked around the great dome. He saw scrags swim past the crystal windows, but he could see no way they could readily enter the chamber short of bashing down the stout stone doors.

"Fools-you're both insignificant fools!" The words, spoken in a hissing version of the common tongue, came from the great sahuagin. Several tridents, borne by swimming mermen, pressed menacingly against Sythissal's belly. The creature crouched as far back into the niche as he could, sneering in hatred.

"Perhaps so," Marqillor replied. "But the fools are holding steel to your skin."

"I don't matter," spat the sahuagin king. "It is my master. When he comes, you will all be destroyed!"

Tristan stared at the savage creature. On many occasions in the king's own lifetime, this monster had hurled predatory armies against the coasts of the Moonshae Islands. Indeed, it had been the sahuagin whose onslaught had first provided the necessity that linked the northmen and Ffolk in peace. Always those incursions had been thrown back, but at grievous cost in villages burned, helpless people slain.

Yet now that he had the enemy of all those years before him, Tristan felt the rage and fury slowly drain from his body, replaced by a great weariness. What was the point of a lifetime of war? Would it merely bring the adversaries to their shared doom here at the bottom of the sea?

A thunderous force rocked the dome of Kyrasti then, rumbling through the water below, shaking the very foundations of the great structure, seeming to make the very reef itself tremble. Tristan saw long cracks ripple along the walls as something smashed against one of the doors, causing the water to churn with turbulence. When the human looked down, he could barely make out the floor of the chamber. The seawater in the dome grew murky, as if a dark cloud slowly spread through it.

Abruptly the merman called Sanamarl vanished into that murk as the area of opacity continued to expand, obscuring more and more of the floor. Within a few moments, the inside of the chamber was as impenetrable to sight as the silty water of a placid river.

In the next instant, a tentacle lashed out from the murky water, thrashing around the niche and grasping the sahuagin king around the neck. Sythissal screamed, a high-pitched, keening cry of pure terror. Quickly the tendril tightened its grip, dragging the monarch into the water. Tristan gasped and slashed, but his blade struck only hard coral when he missed the whipping, snakelike limb.

The great sahuagin screamed and writhed in the grasp of the heavy tentacle. Then, as Tristan and the mermen watched helplessly, a great form rolled across the surface, ripping and tearing at Sythissal with tentacles and a sharp, chopping beak. They heard the crunch of bone, saw the rending of scaly skin. The sahuagin's screams slowly gurgled to a halt, but the sharp beak continued to rend the reptilian body.

In moments, the fishman had been torn to shreds, leaving only gory remnants to float through the turbulent water of the throne room.

"What did that?" gasped Tristan, trying to comprehend the massive size of the tentacled intruder.

"It's a giant squid," Marqillor noted, trying to peer through the still murky water. "The biggest one I've ever seen."

Then, as the creature rose to the surface once more, more tentacles-several as big around as a man's waist-snaked toward the mermen and their human comrade.

The Princess of Moonshae moved with stately grace through depths layered with blue, aqua, and then a deep, cloaking green. The ship had been underwater for many hours, though Brandon could only guess at their course, since Robyn had lain still and unaware since their submergence. Finally the longship entered a realm of dark purple, where the water seemed to press against the wooden hull and its magical dome with ominous and inexorable pressure.

Alicia still knelt beside her mother, relieved to see that the queen's wounds had healed for the most part with almost miraculous speed.

"It's the goddess," Tavish whispered reverently. "Her healing comes to a druid when she changes her form for another's."

For hours, the queen lay motionless, while the princess and Tavish washed and bandaged her wounds and tried to soothe her as best they could.

Finally Robyn fell into a restful sleep. Now, as she slumbered, Tavish came back to watch over the High Queen while Alicia climbed stiffly to her feet and began to check the blade of her sword. She would need the weapon very soon, she suspected.

"Look!" came the cry from the bow, where Keane and Hanrald maintained a steady watch. "We're coming to something."

It seemed as if the submerged longship had sailed into a forest of widely spaced tree trunks. Tall spires rose around them, and as they passed between two of the columns, they saw undulating terrain below them, dotted with numerous circular objects that almost certainly had to be buildings.

"Those are spires-towers," announced Keane, studying the shafts rising from the ocean floor all around them. They towered far higher than any surface structures, the sleek proportions of giant needles extending very nearly to the surface. "The sea floor is shallow here, as if this is a high ridge … a mountaintop on the ocean's bed."

"Guards!" shouted a northman, pointing into the darkness around the nearest of the pillars. Numerous fishlike forms swarmed toward them, like a great school of humanoid swimmers.

"Stand ready!" called Brandon. The bowmen took up their arrows while the northmen raised their weapons and stood in a protective circle around the hull.

"The spells-now is the time!"

Keane turned, seeing Hanrald and Brigit speaking to him together. The two knights had donned their armor. Silver plate encased them both from the waist up, with chain mail to guard their legs and arms.

"The spells from Evermeet," Brigit added quickly. "The queen gave you scrolls, with spells for underwater movement and combat. We need them-now! We'll create a diversion and draw some of the defenders away from the ship!"

The magic-user blinked, trying to think as the aquatic attackers swarmed closer. "I agree," he concluded after a split second. After all, the two knights were some of the best fighters among them.

Keane quickly unfurled the leather parchment, hurriedly reading over the words to the spells, each of which would provide its target with the ability not only to breathe underwater, but also to move through the sea as if the liquid was no more obstructive than air. In moments, he chanted the brief commands and passed his hand through the careful symbology of the spell.

"We'll go out and meet them. We'll try to draw as many of them off as we can," explained Hanrald. The earl looked up at Alicia, who had joined them in the bow.

"Farewell, princess!" boomed Hanrald, with a bright smile at Alicia. "We battle yon foe; it is the way of the knight, after all!"

Alicia felt a great fear for her friends. "Take care," she said quietly, stretching upward to kiss the suddenly blushing Hanrald. She turned to Brigit with a wan smile. "Don't let him get into too much trouble!"

The elfwoman smiled sadly and touched Alicia on the arm. "It is too late for that, I fear," she said.

Then, as the swarming fishmen were almost upon them, Brigit and Hanrald dove over the side, racing through the water as swiftly as if they sprinted over a grassy field. The two dropped to the surface of the submarine ridge, landing lightly on their feet after a hundred-foot descent. Immediately they began running over the rough terrain, dodging around large outcrops of coral that loomed like giant boulders before them, and within a few seconds, they had disappeared from the view of their companions in the longship.

The voyagers saw scores of the attacking monsters swerve downward, pursuing the two knights. Scrags spread into a wide screen, swimming dozens of feet above the ocean floor, while many sahuagin darted into the ravines and gullies where the two intruders had vanished.

At the same time, the rest of the swarming predators continued to press toward the Princess of Moonshae. The complex of towers and domes was well defended, and more and more of the guards appeared in the distance, swimming toward the fight.

"Phyrosyne!" cried the princess, stamping her changestaff against the longship's hull. Immediately the shaft grew upward, though the tree creature twisted low to prevent its upper branches from breaking into the water over their heads. Thus propped in the hull, the wooden fighter reached out with knotty branches, ready to defend the ship against the wave of attackers that surged against them from all sides.

For an hour, Alicia's life became a maze of battle as she joined the crew of Brandon's ship in a desperate defense of their beleaguered vessel. Only the shock of their appearance and the success of Brigit and Hanrald's diversion, it seemed, gave them any chance in this battle, for no sooner had they vanquished a company of scrags or sahuagin than a fresh formation arrived to take its place. If the sea creatures had all attacked together, she knew, the battle could have had but one grim outcome.

Robyn recovered her awareness as the battle began and rose to her feet to aid in the fight, remaining in the body of a human this time and wielding spells instead of her own flesh. Tavish frantically played her harp, and as always the enchanted instrument caused the human warriors to forget their fatigue and their fear, striving their utmost to win this all-important battle.

The changestaff fought as steadily as any courageous human warrior. It broke the backs of fishmen and scrags alike, seizing their bodies in its firm branches and twisting with inexorable force, tossing the crippled remains back into the sea as it searched for another foe.

As it was, they battled desperately with spells and steel, arrows and axes, and they just barely managed to hold the swarm at bay. The water in their wake was littered by the torn bodies of the sea creatures, while many brave northmen and Ffolk gasped out their last breaths in the blood-spattered hull of the longship. The air grew thick with the stench of sweat and blood and saltwater, until each breath clogged in the throat, burning lungs and providing precious little oxygen for the breather.

Desperately battling men and monsters crashed over the benches, around the casks of stores, and even up and down the mast, but in the end, every attack was driven off, at a dear cost in blood.

"There-some kind of castle!" announced Brandon, peering through the murk toward a mountainous structure rising before them.

"All around us-a huge compound!" exclaimed Keane, his tone full of wonder that almost succeeded in vanquishing his fatigue.

Spires arose from a sea bottom that undulated through a series of steep-sided ridges, the huge protuberances of the massive coral reef that formed the foundation of this undersea realm. Twisting towers of shells, gleaming with mosaics of pearl, silver, and gold, studded the coral hills. Domed buildings, many with panels of emerald-colored crystal set in their roofs, clustered among the towers. There were no walls in this city. They would be no more useful here than they would on the surface against attackers who could fly.

The central feature of the submarine vale was a huge rounded structure that occupied the center of a shallow depression. All around it circled ridges of coral, occupied by towers and other lesser buildings. The huge structure was built as a series of great domes, piled one atop another until they reached their highest point in the center, which consisted of a great rounded chamber with panels of clear crystal set all around the curving wall.

"It's got to be the palace!" cried Robyn. "Go there-to the top!"

The ship sailed into the great bowl, surrounded by coral towers. The huge dome before them looked like some kind of undersea mountain, except that its surface was marked with turrets and balconies and was broken by many great panels of green crystal, providing glimpses into the shadowed chamber below.

The Princess of Moonshae, free of pestering attackers for the moment, came to rest beside one of the portals. Eagerly Alicia stared through the murk, not sure what she would see but full of more hope than she had felt in months.

Nevertheless, the sight that met her eyes was too shocking for any reaction, at least until a second had passed, enough time for her to confirm her identification and find her voice.

"It's Father!"

Alicia stared in astonishment as the shapes below the glasslike panel came into view. She saw Tristan in a shallow alcove at the side of the domed chamber. "We've found him!" she cried in pure elation.

Then Alicia saw the monstrous creature rolling in the waters before her father and she screamed in horror, for the whirling shape reached toward the king with a pair of grasping tentacles, slithering through the water like eels. She saw Tristan squirm desperately in their clutches, dragged slowly but inevitably toward the water.

Sinioth surged and thrashed in his fury. First had come the news that the prisoner had escaped his cell, and now the humans dared to come against him here, in Kyrasti! He had tried to prepare himself for this possibility, but the reality stunned him beyond disbelief.

Sythissal, of course, had paid for his failure to secure the prisoner. The captor had been put to death-justice, to Coss-Axell-Sinioth. As he well knew, should he himself fail, Talos would show him no greater mercy.

But Coss-Axell-Sinioth was not one to dwell upon his defeats, except as they fueled his rage and propelled him to vengeance. Now the prisoner, and then his rescuers, would pay for their arrogance and pride.