Wrath of the Blue Lady

CHAPTER EIGHT

Caught in the darkness of the shark’s maw and his own fear, Shang-Li reached above and felt the slick hardness of the shark’s palate and knew that what he experienced was not a simple illusion. The lady’s spell still held and he could breathe, but in the jaws of a shark, that hardly seemed to matter.

The shark’s teeth parted. For a moment, the darkness was dispelled and Shang-Li saw the deep blue ocean on the other side of the razor sharp teeth. He darted forward, but the rush of water pouring inward shoved him back toward the predator’s gullet.

He felt certain that if he tumbled into the belly of the beast he would never escape. He flailed and his fingers found the slimy aperture left by the shark’s gill slits. Then the gruesome, smiling mouth closed again and he was once more in darkness.

It’s magic, Shang-Li told himself.

He took a deep breath and struggled to focus, but that task proved difficult while hanging onto a shark’s gill slit inside the creature’s mouth. The shark shook its head from side to side as it swam. Shang-Li bounced off the walls of its mouth and felt the rough edges of the gill slit saw at his fingers. He pushed the pain from his mind and concentrated, hoping to break whatever spell the Blue Lady had cast over him. She hadn’t killed him outright. Neither had the shark. The experience now was meant as a lesson in terror.

He pictured the cave’s interior and imagined the fire’s warmth. For a moment, the sea’s chill pulled back from him. Then the darkness melted and he saw the flames twisting before him. He reached for the fire.

Go to the cave, he told himself. You don’t have to be here. You can go to the cave. Concentrate. You can free yourself of this.

The fire grew warmer and brighter in his mind. He was almost there.

When he was certain he had built the cave in his mind as best as he could, when he felt the tie to the fire at its strongest, when he was certain he could hold his breath no longer-he released his grip on the gill slit and shoved himself forward.

For a moment, he thought he might be on a one way trip to the shark’s belly. Then he sprawled against a stone floor. Choking and gasping, retching up some of the saltwater he had inadvertently swallowed, he pushed himself to his knees.

His soaked clothing clung to him heavily. He grabbed his shirt and wrung water from the material. The sea gushed in a torrent to spatter the stone.

It hadn’t been a dream or simple illusion. He had been there. The Blue Lady was real.

As his mind tried to deal with that, Shang-Li crept closer to the fire to soak up its warmth. He rubbed at his arms vigorously to increase the blood flow. He knew his father would tsk in disappointment at his lack of control. At the moment, though, Shang-Li didn’t care. The fire felt good and much more hospitable than the bottom of the Sea of Fallen Stars.

Outside the cave, the rain fell in a drumming rush, almost blunting the other sounds that came from without. If Moonwhisper hadn’t spread his great wings and opened his yellow eyes in consternation, Shang-Li didn’t know if he would’ve heard the fearful shouts of men.

Moving quickly, Shang-Li gathered the book and the papers, and shoved them into his pack. He slung the pack over his shoulder, shot his arms through the straps, and ran.

Moonwhisper glided out into the heavy rain just ahead of him.

The long hours of constant rain had turned the ground soft. As Shang-Li ran, the earth moved and shifted beneath him. Grassless expanses beneath the oak and pine trees held small ponds that covered treacherous mud slicks. He pounded and skidded through those, never once breaking pace.

Moonwhisper flew above the treetops, almost lost in the blinding rain. Shang-Li traded senses only long enough to spot the ship sitting at anchorage near the foothills of the mountain. Sailors darted across Swallow’s decks. Others clambered nets to get to safety.

Fierce warriors trailed in their wake. Moonwhisper glided lower and his vision picked out the attackers easily. Despite the long shadows of night and the owl’s limited black and white vision, Shang-Li recognized the aggressors as kuo-toa.

The fish-people dwelled in the Underdark, in the twisted maze of caverns and tunnels that ran beneath the surface world. Worshiping dark gods by sacrificing conquered enemies, the kuo-toa rose from the dark depths only to raid coastal villages, attack ships in harbors, or take slaves.

When the Spellplague swept across Faerun, a crack in the sea floor had drained the Sea of Fallen Stars into the Glimmersea, the Underdark’s ocean. As a result, the kuo-toa ranged ever wider in their marauding.

Swallow lay a hundred yards out to sea. Canvas flew up lines as the crew made ready to sail. Desperate, Shang-Li borrowed Moonwhisper’s sight again as he searched for his father aboard the ship. When the owl glided across the prow, Shang-Li spotted Kwan Yung standing on the prow. His father held a bow and aimed with expert skill. Shaft after shaft sped from his string and transfixed the head of a kuo-toa barely out of the water as they converged on the ship.

Hoarse shouts drew Shang-Li’s attention to a longboat still on shore to his left. Nine sailors put up a defense against that thanks a horde of kuo-toa warriors armed with spears, pincer staffs, and harpoons. Two sailors dug their feet into the soft sand of the bank and shoved the longboat into the incoming waves. The battle at both ends appeared to be a losing one.

Shang-Li shook his fighting sticks into his hands, expanded them, and ran for the kuo-toa as soundless as his shadow. The driving rain hampered his vision and masked the screams and hoarse shouts of the beleaguered men.

A kuo-toa pincer staff caught one of the sailors in the throat. Shang-Li recognized the man from a couple of meals they’d shared in the galley during the voyage. He had been young and inexperienced, excited and scared to be on the voyage.

The man dropped his weapon and grabbed the pincers in an effort to get away, but the kuo-toa warrior lifted his opponent from his feet almost effortlessly. In the next instant, the kuo-toa twisted the pincer staff violently.

The helpless man’s neck snapped like a dry tree branch. The kuo-toa flicked the corpse away as if the dead man were refuse.

Hot anger boiled inside Shang-Li. He pushed it away, pushed away all emotion, and concentrated on his attack. Moonwhisper glided down before any of the kuo-toa grew aware of the owl’s presence. His heavy claws raked the fish-man’s brutal features and gouged his eyes.

Black ichor spread across the kuo-toa’s face. It squalled in pain and fury as it clapped a hand over the wounds. Angrily, it battered its companions aside and came face to face with Shang-Li.

The kuo-toa stood as tall as Shang-Li, but the creature’s body was massively muscled. Even though the kuo-toa was barrel-chested, the fish-man’s head still looked too large for its body. The eyes were huge, round disks, black pupils surrounded by amber pools. There were no lids, only protective membranes that gave the eyes a glossy sheen.

A row of razor-sharp teeth curled from the creature’s large mouth. Heavy black claws stood out from the fingers and toes, as dangers a weapon as any of those the kuo-toa carried. Moss-green scales covered the body and made the bright gold twists worn for decoration stand out even more strongly.

Moonwhisper had blinded the kuo-toa’s left eye so it had to turn its head to look at Shang-Li. Blood leaked between its teeth.

“I kill you,” the kuo-toa threatened in a garbled voice. It lifted its harpoon and shield. Iridescent pink and white, the shield looked like mother of pearl salvaged from a giant clam.

Shang-Li batted his opponent’s harpoon to the side and closed. Another kuo-toa had turned to face him. He slid past the first kuo-toa, then shifted and slammed his back into the fish-man’s iridescent shield. Experience had taught him that the shield was rough and tended to grab opponents. Shang-Li flung his arms out and sank to the ground as the second kuo-toa struck with its spear.

His weight dragged the first kuo-toa’s shield down with him, leaving it exposed. The second fish-man’s spear sank into the chest of the first kuo-toa Shang-Li had engaged.

Shrugging free of the shield, Shang-Li rolled to one knee, and whipped a backward strike to the outside of the kuo-toa’s knee. Despite the creature’s powerful build, knees remained vulnerable. Bone cracked with ear-splitting pops, and the kuo-toa sagged to the side. Before his opponent could manage his failing balance, Shang-Li stood and slammed the other fighting stick into the fish-man’s throat.

Normally the blow would have crushed a human opponent’s windpipe. But the kuo-toa breathed through gills. The fish-man was stunned, but not incapacitated.

The first kuo-toa struggled with the spear embedded in its chest. Using both hands, it had started to pull the weapon from its flesh while howling in pain.

Abandoning its primary weapon, the second kuo-toa pulled a spiked mace from its side and took up a new stance. Knowing he was sandwiched between his two opponents, Shang-Li threw the fighting stick in his right hand as hard as he could at the second kuo-toa’s face. The stick’s iron-capped end struck the fish-man in its low forehead, and ricocheted up as Shang-Li had figured it would do.

He turned while the second kuo-toa was distracted, just in time to see the first kuo-toa pull the spear from its chest. Grabbing the spear with his free hand, Shang-Li propelled it slightly upward and shoved it through the underside of the kuo-toa’s chin. The keen edge slid through the unprotected flesh and up into the kuo-toa’s brain.

The fish-man stumbled backward, already dead.

The second kuo-toa struck at Shang-Li with the spiked mace. Shang-Li stepped to the side, put one leg behind the kuo-toa’s nearest leg, then slammed his shoulder into the fish-man’s upper body. Thrown off balance, the kuo-toa tumbled to the ground and fell on its back. Aware of the second stick tumbling back down, Shang-Li plucked the weapon from the air and slammed it into the kuo-toa’s head with a meaty smack.

The vibration caused massive damage inside the fishman’s skull. It shivered and shook like a clubbed fish. Its mouth relaxed, fell open, and it expired.

Walking behind the next, Shang-Li stomped on the kuo-toa’s calf and caused its leg to buckle from beneath it. Before the fish-man could recover, Shang-Li pounded its head as well. It sagged and fell forward, taking another kuo-toa down with it.

A kuo-toa with a headdress of preserved squid tentacles pointed a fist at one of the sailors. Recognizing the fish-man as a monitor, one of the kuo-toa leaders, Shang-Li ran up the back of the nearest fish-man and launched himself at his chosen foe.

“I am Gibblesnippt!” the kuo-toa monitor roared fiercely. “Favored of the Sea Mother. I am your death!”

Lightning blazed from the kuo-toa’s clenched fist and struck the sailor with enough force to hurl him back over the longboat and into the water. The stench of lightning and burned flesh filled the air in spite of the high winds.

Gibblesnippt roared with laughter and took a two-handed grip on its pincer staff while the other fish-men cheered and their awful voices. “I will feed you all to-”

Before the kuo-toa monitor could complete his dark promise, Shang-Li flipped through the air and landed in front of the sailors. He set himself, a fighting stick in each hand.

Turning its head one way and then the other, Gibblesnippt studied Shang-Li. The fish-man’s gills flared and closed rapidly.

“Who are you and why are you so ready to die?” Gibblesnippt demanded.

“If you leave now,” Shang-Li said, “I won’t kill you as I have killed your companions.”

For the first time, the kuo-toa looked back and saw the dead that Shang-Li had left in his wake.

Thankfully, the sailors hadn’t been so frozen that they forgot to save themselves. Three others joined the two trying to get the boat out into the surf. Together, they managed the task, but all of them knew the kuo-toa could easily overtake them in the water.

“You’re going to fight me with a stick?” Gibblesnippt taunted.

“I’m going to kill you with a stick if need be.” Shang-Li didn’t move. Five kuo-toa remained before him. Only two of the sailors stood ready beside him. Rain pounded Shang-Li’s face and caused him to blink.

Moonwhisper glided overhead, held in check only by Shang-Li’s unspoken command.

“You’re a very foolish human,” Gibblesnippt growled. It gestured with the pincer staff.

In response, two of the kuo-toa drew heavy crossbows and fired. The quarrels flashed through the air as lightning streaked the sky.

Relying on his instinct and training, Shang-Li spun from the path of one of the quarrels and knocked the other from its flight with a fighting stick. As he came back around, he plucked a handful of throwing stars from his clothing and flicked them into motion.

The throwing stars whispered through the air and thudded into the kuo-toa. The sharp blades weren’t enough to kill or disable unless they struck an eye, and Shang-Li didn’t have time to be that accurate. He slipped his sticks from his sleeve again and launched himself at the monitor.

Gibblesnippt raised the pincer staff to block Shang-Li’s advance. Instead of batting the weapon aside with the fighting sticks, Shang-Li rolled beneath it. He came up inside the monitor’s two arms, his fists clutching the sticks. Before Gibblesnippt could react, Shang-Li brought the iron-capped ends into both of his opponent’s eyes, blinding him at once.

Bellowing in pain, Gibblesnippt stepped back and tried to trap Shang-Li in his grasp. Instead, Shang-Li ducked under the kuo-toa’s outstretched arms and took a step to the side. Deftly, the young monk stabbed his fighting stick into his opponent’s gill slit and shoved the end through the creature’s brain.

A deafening howl ripped from the kuo-toa’s large mouth. Blood streamed from its ruined eyes. Blinded and out of control, Gibblesnippt staggered backward and collapsed onto two of its followers.

Four surviving fish-men stood frozen for a moment. The creatures took courage from the leaders. When one of those was slain, the kuo-toa generally retreated until another from among them was chosen.

Shang-Li stayed in motion. He slipped his fighting sticks back up his sleeves and grabbed one of the heavy harpoons dropped by one of the other fallen kuo-toa. Whirling, he threw it with all his strength. The harpoon crunched through one of the kuo-toa’s chests.

The stricken kuo-toa fell backward to its knees and cried out for help. None of its companions offered aid. The fish-man struggled to get to its feet, but one of the sailors stepped forward and slashed off its head.

The head thumped to the ground and lay on one side. The visible eye circled its orbit frantically while the mouth gasped.

Without a word, the three able kuo-toa bolted from the fight and ran for the water. The fish-men heaved into the sea and disappeared at once.

The two sailors that had remained with Shang-Li quickly darted forward to search the bodies of the kuo-toa. Their knives flashed as they slashed through purse drawstrings. Shang-Li didn’t think they would get much for their trouble. The kuo-toa didn’t put much stock in the idea of surface dwellers’ wealth. Still, they wore gold ornamentation and that was worth something.

Just as he started to turn away, lightning blazed and a blue flash caught Shang-Li’s eye. He knelt beside the kuo-toa monitor and examined the necklace the fish-man wore. Even after further inspection, he couldn’t divine the nature of the device.

But the fact that it was deep blue when nothing else about the creature echoed that color interested him.

Shang-Li closed its fist around the device to pull it free. As soon as his flesh closed over the necklace, he felt the coldness of the Blue Lady on him again. He took his hand back, used his knife to cut free the necklace, and dropped it into his pouch.

The longboat was out to sea and the sailors had clambered aboard. Two of them rowed while the other three fumbled for oars.

Kuo-toa still assaulted Swallow in the harbor, but the attacks were less fierce. However, there was no telling when the fish-men would regroup, or how many would arrive. The harbor was no longer safe.

Shang-Li stood. “It’s time to go.”

The two sailors stood, their prizes held in their fists. They glanced down at the dead men littering the beach.

“What about the others?” the oldest of them asked.

“We can’t take them with us and we can’t stay to bury them.” Shang-Li hated the coldness in his voice. Such a thing was horrible to contemplate, much less do. “We will offer prayers for them when we’re able.”

Steeling himself, Shang-Li ran for the surf and dived in. When he surfaced, he swam for the ship.

Several bodies of slain kuo-toa bobbed on the water near Swallow. Many of them had arrows through their heads, silent truth of the archers’ marksmanship aboardship.

As they bumped gently into the ship, a few of the sailors spat at the dead fish-men. Muttered curses floated over the water.

Taking hold of the net draped over the ship’s side, Shang-Li quickly climbed aboard. When he saw his father standing on the deck still holding a longbow with an arrow nocked to string, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Kwan Yung didn’t look any worse for wear other than a few scrapes on his cheek and chin. An empty quiver and a near-empty quiver hung at his side.

“You are all right?” his father asked.

Shang-Li nodded. “It was a close thing.”

Above, Moonwhisper spread his wings and landed in the rigging.

Several of the sailors worked together to hoist the bodies of kuo-toa from the deck. Only a few of the creatures had reached the ship. None of them had survived. All of them got thrown back into the sea.

Captain Chiang joined them. Gray touched the temples of his long hair, which he wore pulled back in a queue. He was somewhere in his middle years, between Shang-Li and his father. The right side of his face held two long scars. He was fit and trim, and had a reputation for being a man who lived by his honor. Both the blades he wore dripped crimson.

“Where did the kuo-toa come from?” Chiang asked quietly. Though his ship had suffered and several of his men were dead, he acted calm and focused.

“I didn’t see,” Shang-Li said. “The sound of the attack drew me.”

“They came out of the water, captain,” one of the survivors from the shore patrol replied.

“You didn’t disturb them?”

“No. We were just loading the water barrels and they attacked us.”

Chiang leaned on the railing and surveyed the harbor. “I’ve stopped here several times. Other than the occasional pirate ship, these waters have always been safe. I’ve never before encountered kuo-toa.”

“Maybe it was aboleths,” one of the crewmen suggested.

The man’s words instantly reminded Shang-Li of Bayel Droust’s fate aboard Grayling. But there had been no talk of aboleths during that attack, no hint that these kuo-toa served the psionic behemoths that ranged over the Sea of Fallen Stars.

“If it was aboleths that put the kuo-toa onto us,” another crewman said, “they would have turned us to servitors.”

Several of the men shuddered at that. When a human succumbed to the power of an aboleth, he was changed. His outer skin turned into a slimy membrane that allowed him to live better beneath the sea and serve the aboleths. The monsters’ appearance was frightening because of their great size and rounded bulk, but few things were as gruesome as the servitors.

“Aboleths didn’t have anything to do with it,” Shang-Li said confidently.

The captain and crew looked at him. Even his father studied him and waited for him to continue.

“They knew we were there.” Shang-Li took the blue stone device from his pouch and held it for all to see in his palm. Even resting there, he felt the magic vibrating within. “One of the kuo-toa monitors wore this.”

“What’s that?” Chiang made no move to touch the stone.

Several of the crewmen drew back.

“I believe this belongs to the Blue Lady.” Shang-Li indicated the device carved onto the stone. At one time, the stone had held the forked wave that was Umberlee’s symbol. But that symbol had been carved over, replaced by the image of rain falling from a cloud. “This is her symbol.”

“You think they took this from her?” Chiang asked.

“No. I think they’re in league with her.”

“Why?” his father asked.

The stone grew colder in Shang-Li’s hand. A wave of fatigue rolled over him.

“Because I talked to her,” he answered. “She’s not a myth. And she’s not gone. She’s still down there.”

That announcement started tongues wagging immediately. Chiang silenced most of the men around him with his stern gaze, but they only retreated to talk among themselves farther away. Most of the men didn’t believe him. They hadn’t heard of the Blue Lady previously, and they hadn’t been privy to the conversation Shang-Li had had with his father. Nor had any of them suffered through the dreams she’d woven for him.

“It’s unfortunate that you stated that where everyone could hear,” the captain said softly. “Some of them may believe you.”

“Perhaps,” Shang-Li acknowledged. “But they deserved to know. This isn’t going to get any less dangerous.”

“As you say,” Chiang replied. “But such candor-even if well-intentioned-is going to make recruitment hard in Westgate. Even if they don’t believe you, most of them will not be willing to follow a madman around. Or someone chasing ghosts. Some of the men aboard this ship now might not come back.” He walked away and began attending to his crew and ship.

Without a word, Shang-Li’s father took the stone from his hand, wrapped it in a cloth that was woven as much from magic as it was from material, and put it in his pouch.

Shang-Li knew that was wasted effort. Even though the stone was out of sight, it remained malignant and evil. It waited. Just like the Blue Lady.