Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles (11 page)

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Authors: Stephen D (v1.1) Sullivan

BOOK: Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles
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Deep
laughter echoed through the darkness.

 
          
Mik
reached for his cutlass, but the shadowed figure tugged on a line, tightening
the net so he could barely move. Trip, though, had managed to pull both his
daggers and was already working on cutting the sturdy mesh.

 
          
Another
figure, swimming almost too swiftly to see in the darkness, yanked on another
cord and toppled them off their feet. Trip’s daggers fell from his hands and
settled to the sea bed below.

 
          
The
two figures circled quickly outside the netting, pulling the trap tight around
the sailor and his diminutive companion. Try as they might, Mik and Trip could
not break free. In moments they lay bound and helpless on the bottom of the
sea.

 

 

  
        
 

  
 
          
 

Eleven

 

Scavengers

 

 
         
Mik
struggled against the rope netting binding his arms and legs.

 
          
“We
must reach the surface!” he said.”

 
          
“Friends
... maybe
.. .
dying
!” Trip
burbled.

 
          
“Anyone
on the surface is dead already,” said a raspy female voice. The voice was far
clearer than Trip’s, or even Mik’s magically assisted tones—as though it had
been bom to deep waters. “Sea dragons don’t take prisoners, and Tempest is the
worst of all,” the voice continued.

 
          
“A
had break for sailors,” added the deep voice they’d heard laughing before, “but
very good for our business.” This voice was just as clear as the first.

 
          
“Who
are you?” Mik asked, peering into the shadowy deep. “What do you want?”

 
          
“Salvage,”
the raspy voice, which was attached to the slender, swift-moving form, replied.
“Even half-drowned sailors have some value.”

 
          
“We
should go,” the deeper voice said. “The dragon isn’t far off. We should return
to Reeftown.” A huge armored knight emerged from the shadows and began reeling
in the net containing the captured mariners.

 
          
Mik
and Trip glanced at each other in wonder.

 
          
“How...?”
Trip blurted.

 
          
“Yes,”
the raspy voice said, “we should hurry back. I want to see what our other
salvage parties have brought to fatten my treasury. See to the prisoners,
Shimmer.”

 
          
Shimmer, the underwater knight, nodded and said, “Yes, Lakuda.”
As he drew closer to the captives, tightening the net as he came, his
appearance became more defined. He was a tall man in shiny reddish armor
decorated with fins, scales, and fishlike patterns. A spiky helmet completely
covered his face.

 
          
The
creature known as Lakuda swam forward with a few quick undulations of her lean
body. Her black eyes peered at the prisoners in the weighted net. She was
dressed in a combination of form-fitting black orca-leather and golden jewelry.
Her face was thin and sharp-featured. She had tightly tied green hair and
pointed ears. Even without her pale blue skin, Mik and Trip would have realized
immediately that she was a sea elf.

 
          
Moving
with the deadly grace of a razorfish, Lakuda regarded the prisoners with a
cold, predatory smile. She poked a slender finger into Mik’s shoulder; he
struggled.

 
          
“This
one seems strong enough,” Lakuda said. “Tough, too, or he wouldn’t have
survived in such good shape. Perhaps he’ll fetch something. The kender’s next
to worthless, though. We should leave him for the sharks.”

 
          
“We’ve
captured them,” Shimmer said. “We have a duty to keep them alive—at least until
we reach home.”

 
          
Lakuda
arched one eyebrow at him. “You’d do better if you abandoned such hopelessly
idealistic notions, Shimmer,” she said. “They’re not profitable.” She swooped
down and retrieved Mik’s knife and the kender’s daggers from where they’d
settled into the silt, and tucked them into a bag.

 
          
“We
were traveling with an aristocrat from Jotan,” Mik said. “Profit for her rescue
would certainly be great.” The tightness of the net made it difficult to speak,
even with aid of the necklace’s spell.

 
          
Lakuda
gazed into Mik’s brown eyes, trying to determine whether he was telling the
truth. “Don’t toy with me, sailor,” she said sternly.

 
          
Shimmer
turned his armored head toward the surface, two-hundred and forty feet above.

 
          
“If
anyone’s alive up there, they’ve either been taken by the dragon or by one of
your other pods,” he advised Lakuda.

 
          
“You
can . . . see all that . . . from down here?” Trip burbled, awed. He peered up
but saw nothing.

 
          
“We’ll
find out soon enough,” Lakuda said. “Come, Shimmer.” She put one of the lines
securing the net over her shoulder and began to swim away.

 
          
Shimmer
grunted and did the same.

 
          
“Is
your shoulder acting up?” Lakuda asked.

 
          
“Not
to worry about, Mistress,” Shimmer replied.

 
          
“We
could swim along with you ... if you let us free,” Mik suggested.

 
          
Lakuda
laughed, a chilling sound rippling through the water. “And then you’d meekly
follow us back to Reeftown to be ransomed.”

 
          
“Where
else would we go?” Mik asked.

 
          
“I’ve
never seen ... a sea-elf city,” Trip bubbled, his eyes lighting up.

 
          
Lakuda
ignored the kender. “You’d be fools to try to go anywhere,” she said. “That
doesn’t mean you wouldn’t
try,
though.
You’re already marked as fools to venture this far north. The continent is too
far to swim, and no one enters the Dragon Isles—without permission.”

 
          
“We
make a living off fools like you,” Shimmer added with a chuckle. “Business was
good even before Tempest started patrolling these waters.”

 
          
“I’m
Captain Mikal Vardan,” Mik said.

 
          
“Former
captain, I’d say,” Lakuda
interjected.

 
          
Mik
fought down a wave of anger and continued, “... and this is my ace diver,
Tripleknot Shellcracker.”

 
          
“Call
me Trip,” burbled the kender. “Can we ... call you,
uh .
..
Lakuda and Shimmer?”

 
          
Both
scavengers pointedly ignored him as they continued to drag the bound captives
forward.

 
          
Shimmer
glanced at his companion, his orangish eyes shining from beneath his bronze
helmet. “Hauling them to Reeftown
would
be easier if they would cooperate.”

 
          
Mik
smiled. “Sure. Just cut us
free,
and ...” He never
finished his sentence.

 
          
As
Shimmer turned toward the captives, he lifted the faceplate of his helmet ever
so slightly. Beams of dazzling light shot out from the crack, filling the sea
with multicolored brilliance.

 
          
A
wave of dizziness swept over the shipwrecked captives. Mik’s senses reeled and
he remembered no more.

 

 
          
*****

 

 
          
When
Mik woke again, he found himself bound by the waist to a long rope. Trip was
tied behind him, like two caught fish on a line. Their hands had been tied as
well, though their legs remained free for swimming. Lakuda darted in front of
them, tugging on the rope; Shimmer brought up the rear. Mik’s cutlass had been
confiscated and, along with the daggers they’d lost earlier, put into a
bag-like net hanging from Shimmer’s right shoulder.

 
          
Whatever
spell the Bronze Knight had used against them, the effects hadn’t lasted long.
Mik recognized the wreckage of
Kingfisher
around them as they swam forward.

 
          
Occasionally,
Lakuda or Shimmer would break away and scoop up a piece of debris from the
ocean floor. They’d examine the item and then either stuff it into one of the
pouches hanging from their belts, or drop it back into the silt

 
          
As
they passed a large tangle of ropes and chains, Mik’s heart fell. There, amid
the wreckage lay the body of Pamak. Parts of his torso had been bitten away,
and his bloated tongue lolled horribly out of his mouth. His eyes peered,
unseeing, into the endless deep. Already hagfish and other sea scavengers had
begun to strip the flesh from his bones.

 
          
Shimmer
paused a minute to yank the chain free from the tangle. Pamak’s body danced
horribly, like a puppet on a string.

 
          
Hatred
for these heartless scavengers welled up within Mik’s breast. He lunged
forward, an incoherent scream on his lips.

 
          
The
move yanked Shimmer off his feet and caused the knight to plunge into the silt
Lakuda darted back and swung the haft of her spear into the back of Mik’s head.

 
          
The
sea filled with bright points of light, and Mik’s face smashed into the mud. A
moment later, Shimmer’s big hand jerked him up again. Mik blinked and tried to
regain his senses.

 
          
Lakuda
pointed her spear at the sailor’s chest “Try anything like that again.
” she said, “and
IT gladly run you through”

 
          
“He
was part of my crew,” Mik said.

 
          
Lakuda’s
black eyes narrowed. “Now he’s just fish food.”

 
          
They
swam in silence for a long time after that. Lakuda snaked through the water in
front of them; Shimmer plodded along behind, a large sack of loot on his
armored back. The wreckage of
Kingfisher
soon disappeared into the indigo darkness.

 
          
Mik
couldn’t tell whether they were headed toward the isles or away. Their captors
swam swiftly over the sparse patches of seaweed and coral. Clearly Lakuda and
Shimmer knew the sea bed as well as Mik knew the stars at night

 
          
The
constant swimming soon fatigued the sailor and Trip. Lakuda and Shimmer pulled
them along if they flagged, the ropes tugging uncomfortably at the captives'
middles.

 
          
“Maybe
I don’t want to see a sea-elf city after all,” Trip moaned.

 
          
“We’re
not scuttled vet,” Mik said in a low voice.

 
          
Shimmer
and Lakuda never seemed to tire, nor did they stop for food. Soon Mik found his
eyes drifting shut despite his discomfort.

 
          
Entirely
without realizing it he crossed into the land of dreams. There he sailed a
fine, proud ship, larger and newer than
Kingfisher.
Old friends, some long dead, others he’d left behind on this voyage, manned the
ship. They dived for pearls and recovered sunken treasure. Trip clung to the
rigging and prowled the deck, constantly getting underfoot. Mik smiled and
breathed the clean salt air. The wind tugged at his hair and raised goose-bumps
on his dark skin.

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