Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles (12 page)

 
          
“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.
 

Reeftown

 
          
 
“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, Towriboss 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 Town- boss 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. “Fd 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!”