The Lost Library of Cormanthyr (29 page)

The crystal ball, though, was a blessing. When she had brought the device through the dimensional door leading to the library, she had felt within the crystal ball the resonance that opened the door. After working on it for a time, she felt certain she might be able to open the door with a spell of her own, triggering the release of the magic Shallowsoul already had in place.

But a more proper time awaited. She was beginning to think it might be in her best interests to see that Baylee Arnvold did in fact arrive at Myth Drannor, providing a diversion for the lich.

The twisted path of her plan delighted her. It was the first of any sort that she’d found with any hope of achieving her own goals. Mother Lloth willing, she could soon act like a true drow for the first time in over four years.

She returned to the crystal ball and peered into the glass. It was still tracking the latest ship she searched. She waved a hand over it, thinking of Chomack, Taker of Dragon’s Teeth and Chief of the Sumalich Tribe.

The crystal ball clouded for a moment, then opened again to an image within the vast caverns outside the library area. The hobgoblin chieftain was locked in battle with another hobgoblin.

Krystarn watched in growing fascination as the hobgoblin chieftain cracked his whip across his opponent’s face, wrapping the strands about the other hobgoblin’s head. Then he lunged in with his short sword, knocking aside his opponent’s axe and burying the blade in the hobgoblin’s heart.

With a shudder, the other hobgoblin dropped to the cavern floor. Chomack stepped back, holding his bloody sword aloft in victory.

Opening her perspective of the view offered, Krystarn saw that the hobgoblin chieftain was surrounded by nearly four times as many hobgoblins as the day she’d found him. Evidently the one-on-one fight had been for the control of the tribe recently encountered.

“Chomack,” Krystarn said into the crystal ball.

The hobgoblin chieftain stared up, searching. “What do you want?”

The other hobgoblins drew their weapons and stepped back. Some of them yelled for Chomack to take cover.

“I look in on you today,” Krystarn said, “only to offer my congratulations. Your tribe has grown.”

“Because I am strong enough to take them,” the chieftain roared back.

A ragged cheer broke from the ranks of the hobgoblins. Many of them beat their swords against their shields.

“I also remind you of your promise to me,” Krystarn said.

“I will keep it,” the hobgoblin growled. “As long as you keep your end of the bargain.”

“Chomack,” Krystarn said, thinking of the gold and silver that must be secreted away in the library, “I shall give you even more than I promised.” She waved over the crystal ball and picked the next ship on her list. Its name was Tsunami Dancer. She had scried it twice before, feeling an empathy within it when she’d searched for Baylee Arnvold.

“Uziraff Fireblade is in the back, but I wouldn’t go in there if I was you.”

Baylee looked at the whiskered barkeep behind the scarred counter of the Fickle Mermaid. The place was one the ranger vaguely remembered from a time when he and Golsway had been through the area to talk to Uziraff before. The decor was bawdy, featuring a few dozen carved mermaid statues in various forms of debauchery with mermen, humans, and even unicorns. All of the statues had been glued to whatever surface they sat on to keep the tavern’s patrons from walking off with them.

“And why not?” Baylee asked.

“He’s talking business with someone.”

From behind the door to the barkeep’s left came the sound of blows being struck, leaving no illusions about what was going on.

“Talking?” Baylee asked. “Or listening?”

The barkeep gave an evil grin. “Uziraff owns the Fickle Mermaid. I don’t think anyone could make him listen in here.”

Baylee walked around the end of the bar as someone groaned in pain.

The barkeep reached for a belaying pin he kept under the counter. He fisted it and came at Baylee. “I told you stay out of this.”

Before the man knew it, Civva Cthulad had his long sword at the end of the man’s nose. “Unless,” the old ranger said in a calm voice, “you wish to learn to start breathing through your ears, step away.”

The barkeep went cross-eyed looking at the unwavering sword tip. Conversation across the rest of the bar died as heads turned to the counter. A few men got up, their hands going to their hilts.

“Gentlemen,” Cthulad said, addressing the crowd, “I assure you taking part in this would be your greatest mistake. I will kill the first man to interfere with us just to let the ones who follow have no surprise what their fates may be.”

“This isn’t exactly the quiet kind of entrance I had in mind when we came here,” Baylee said in a low voice.

“You dealt the play when you threw the dice,” the old ranger replied. “You could have waited till Uziraff was finished with his business.”

But Baylee couldn’t have, because he thought he knew what kind of business it was that Uziraff was conducting. He watched as the men in the bar stood their ground, wary of Cthulad’s sword. Baylee placed his hand on the doorknob and found it locked. He knelt and used a set of lock picks he carried with him, then passed through.

The room on the other side of the door looked nothing like the rest of the bar. A few books lined one wall, a hodgepodge of subjects, titles, and authors. Baylee doubted that Uziraff had read any of them. Niches held other vases and objects d’art, none of them worth much, actually on display in the room for their visual impact. Twisted creatures held men in their grip, sometimes even whole ships. A model of a treant held two humans in its branches while fire surrounded its base.

Generous in floor space, the room held a large desk, two couches, and a half dozen chairs in front of the desk. The first time Baylee had seen the office, he thought it hadn’t fit the pirate’s reputation.

But today, seeing Uziraff with his knee in the chest of a young man sprawled across that desk, a lead-filled cestus covering one hand, Baylee thought that it looked more representative of the pirate.

“Who dares interrupt me?” Uziraff roared, turning to look over his shoulder at the door. He was a little more than six feet tall, bronzed from the sea and the wind, and his dirty blond hair was pulled back out of his face. Wide gold hoops dangled from his ears. His beard was full, but kept short, following the angles of his face. He wore a red silk shirt and black, heavy-weight breeches that tucked into roll-top boots.

The boy’s one eye that wasn’t swelled shut stared in rounded terror. Blood covered his bruised and battered face, and ran down his neck. Two men held his arms spread out at his sides.

“You know me,” Baylee said. He gestured for Xuxa. The azmyth bat leaped from behind him.

Uziraff didn’t move from his victim. The pirate’s face twisted in a grimace. “Fannt Golsway’s whelp. I’ve heard the old mage finally got himself killed.”

Xuxa landed under one of the supports across the ceiling, hanging upside down. She kept her wings open for immediate movement if necessary. Be careful, she advised.

“Get off that boy,” Baylee ordered.

Uziraff didn’t move. “This boy stole from me. I was only teaching him a lesson, and deciding whether I should take a hand for my trouble as well.”

“And this is the man you’re going to deal with?” Cthulad asked quietly, pulling the door closed to the main bar.

“I’ll not trouble to tell you again,” Baylee said in a cold voice.

“You dare to come here and tell me how to run my affairs?” Uziraff laughed, joined by his men, who started to close in, drawing their weapons.

As quick as thought itself, Cthulad stepped forward. His long sword swept out before him in a series of strokes. Three men lost their weapons, drawing back bleeding hands.

Uziraff abandoned his victim, reaching for the cutlass in the red sash at his waist. “I’ll suffer no such treatment of my authority under my roof, old man.”

Cthulad turned to face the freebooter. “The boy here wants you left alive. I’ll humor him as long as I am able.” His long sword rose to an en garde position. “Though, by nature, I am not a fanciful man, I must warn you.”

“Who are you, old man, to come to me in such a threatening manner?” Uziraff demanded.

“I am Civva Cthulad, justifier, a known warrior and general of armies. I was raised on combat, schooled in warfare, and have kept a sword as my constant companion for as long as I can remember.”

“I have heard of you, Justifier, but usually you are with an army in one nation or the other of the Dalelands. Here you are just one man. Perhaps only a breath short of dying.”

“And perhaps even further than that,” Cthulad challenged.

Xuxa spread her wings and shrieked, startling several of the pirates into dodging back. Do not forget about me, Uziraff Fireblade. No one will touch Baylee without paying full measure.

“Let the boy go,” Baylee commanded.

“You’re not even armed,” Uziraff protested.

“That can change. There happen to be a number of swords laying here on the ground. I’m proficient with any style of them.”

“What do you want?” Uziraff asked. “I know you didn’t come here to save this miserable wretch.” He nodded at the boy.

“I came here about the pictograph you found and took to Golsway.”

Uziraff’s interest showed on his face. “I thought there might be more than Golsway let on.” He gestured to the two men holding the boy across his desk.

The men released the boy, who stumbled out of the room. He shot Baylee a look of thanks.

Uziraff took a bar towel from a nearby chair and wiped the blood from the desk. “Sit down and we’ll talk.”

Baylee took a chair and sat in front of the desk. “I want to find the area where the pictograph came from.”

“That can be costly,” Uziraff said.

“If it’s too costly,” Baylee said, “then I’ll go elsewhere.”

Uziraff leaned across the desk and put a thumb to his chest. “I sent that pictograph to Golsway. How many other men do you think knows where it was even found?”

“I don’t know,” Baylee said, “but I can start by checking to see who disappeared or turned up dead around that time. It could be that I’ll discover that person was the first to find the pictograph. And it could be that the pictograph was offered to other buyers before you ended up with it.”

“Golsway trained you well,” Uziraff said.

“Yes.” Baylee returned the pirate’s level gaze. Can you read any part of his thoughts?

As always, Xuxa replied, Uziraff’s mind is closed to me. But I do sense some of the emotion connected to the pictograph. He possesses a lot of excitement about it. And he is knows more than he is telling. I do sense some anxiety as well.

“What can you pay?” the pirate asked.

“Five hundred gold pieces,” Baylee said.

Uziraff broke into a loud booming laugh. “For a trip such as that, I’d require nothing less than ten thousand gold pieces.”

“For that, if I had ten thousand gold pieces,” Baylee said, “I could buy a brand new cog just like yours.” He stood up from the chair.

“I’m not just selling the boat ride,” Uziraff said. “That you could get anywhere. You’re also buying the information as to where that pictograph was found.”

“Mayhap,” Baylee said, “I’ll be able to find them both, for considerably less than you offer.” He walked to the door. Tell me, Xuxa, is there any weakening to his resolve?

Uziraff is curious and anxious, the azmyth bat answered.

Then there must be another source that could give us the location of the shipwreck.

Yes.

“Wait,” Uziraff said.

Baylee turned back toward the pirate.

Uziraff spread his hands. “Surely you can offer me a better deal than five hundred gold.”

Baylee waited, staring at the man. “Eight hundred gold, and our passage is included so that we get our meals. You’re leaving me precious little to get back to Waterdeep on.”

“Both of you are going? Then the price is—”

“The price is more than fair,” Cthulad said.

For a moment Uziraff bridled at the harsh bite of the other man’s tone. Then he sat back in the chair and grumbled, “As you wish.”

Xuxa? Baylee asked.

His curiosity is showing most, the azmyth bat answered. Nothing duplicitous.

“How soon can you be ready to leave?” Baylee asked.

“Now it’s a rush job as well?” Uziraff laughed and shook his head. “Really, Baylee, you’re well on your way to being as insufferable as Golsway himself.”

“How soon?”

“Two hours.”

“Fine,” Baylee said. “We’ll meet you at Windchaser.” He headed for the door.

“Don’t try to beat out my price, Baylee Arnvold,” the pirate called. “We have a deal.”

“I’ll be there.”

“And bring my gold with you.”

“He’s not a man to trust.”

Baylee glanced at Cthulad. “Not if we had another choice. But it could be that finding anyone who knows anything of the pictograph here in Caer Callidyrr will be near to impossible. The people in this circle don’t like to give away their information, and they hate to admit they know less than you. Just the act of asking questions will set other hounds loose on us.” He peered toward the docks fronting the mouth of the natural harbor.

Broken rock littered the coastline, some of them in the distance drawing white water. In the winter, the winds whipped over the harbor brutally, shutting down most avenues of trade except for the most desperate. The smell of brine was thick in the cool air.

Baylee led the way through the uneven line of porches fronting the shops around the harbor area. It felt good to be moving, not cloistered away aboard the cargo ship anymore. The encounter with Uziraff had left a bad taste in his mouth.

We are being followed, Xuxa said.

I know, Baylee replied. I picked them up as we left the Fickle Mermaid. Keep an eye on them to make sure they don’t get too close.

“We have company,” Cthulad said.

Baylee nodded. “They’ll be with us till we show up at Windchaser. Until then, we’ll take a stop here, then find a good lunch. You won’t have such a thing when we’re aboard Windchaser.”