“The increase of her power affected her reason,” Naxos continued. “She decided she was chosen by the god Abbaku to reunite all those of elven blood into one nation. This message had an appeal to other ambitious Quoowahb, who were tired of the boredom and constraint of life in Watermere.”
“Others such as Coryphene?”
“Yes, and my humble self as well. When I was younger I craved adventure. I wanted to visit distant seas and walk upon dry land, where the sun scorches the air.” His face twisted in self-mockery. “I pledged myself to Uriona’s cause. Many hundreds of Quoowahb believed in her, and two centuries past, she led us out of Watermere to found a new kingdom.”
Naxos gave Vixa a sidelong glance, as if to gauge her reaction to his next words. “She has visions, you know. One of them was of a great city protected by walls of fire. My sea brothers and I scouted for such a place, finding it in this valley between two volcanoes. And here we are, in the city of Urione.”
Vixa sat down beside him. “You no longer believe in her,” she said.
“Her dream has become evil,” he explained. “It’s Coryphene’s doing. He hungers for conquest, for power of his own. He sees himself as the guarantor of Uriona’s dream-and her dynasty.”
Her brown eyes widened. “Does he love her?”
This time his smile was savage. “Desperately! But she listens only to her visions, not to his attempts to woo her.” He leaned close, and Vixa felt herself tense. He had an aura that was palpable-an aura of what? Physical power? Magic? She couldn’t define it.
Naxos lowered his voice to a whisper. “She foresaw your coming, little dryfoot. ‘Elves from the ancient land will come to Urione,’ she prophesied. And then you did.”
“With the help of your kraken!” she exclaimed indignantly.
“Ma’el? Yes, Uriona’s pet. Only she can control it. Our enemy the chilkit are creatures of the sea, but are less adept at swimming than even we Quoowahb. When Coryphene demanded workers to build the wall across the Mortas Trench to stop their predations, the queen sent Ma’el to drag down the ships of the land-dwellers.”
“If you think she’s so evil, why do you follow her?”
“I have sworn it.”
Vixa folded her arms. “You don’t strike me as an elf who would betray his conscience for the sake of an oath to a mad monarch!”
He shrugged and spread his webbed hands. “My brothers and I remain for the most part outside the air-filled city. Soon, we will swim away, and Urione will know us no more.”
“Then help me!” she urged, taking hold of his arm. “You and your sea brothers can help us get away from here!”
He shook off her grip. “I can’t do that-at least not yet. We’re not strong enough to elude Coryphene’s soldiers and defy Uriona’s magic. The time will come when both are stretched to their limits. Then the sea brothers will depart. Only then.”
“But I can help you! In Qualinost I have powerful friends, friends who will shield you and your comrades.” Vixa glanced around cautiously, though the room was quite empty. In a conspiratorial whisper, she said, “I am a princess of the house of Kith-Kanan. My uncle is the Speaker of the Sun!”
“I know.”
She recoiled from his words and his aggravating grin. “What? How?”
“Uriona read it in your mind while you were unconscious. Coryphene is very angry, by the way, because you lied to him. He wanted to send you to the grotto, but the queen ordered you held here. She has some plan for you, I daresay.”
Fear gripped Vixa’s heart. Uriona had read her mind!
“Just how deeply did the queen intrude on my mind?” the princess asked, striving for a nonchalant tone.
His eyes still danced, but Naxos said quite seriously, “Don’t worry, Princess. She only used the lightest and quickest of probes. Anything else would require greater effort-and its intensity might leave you quite useless to her.”
Footsteps echoed beyond the thin curtains. Naxos was on his feet in a flash. “Be brave, Princess. Nothing is done until it is done.”
With these singularly unhelpful words, he ducked through the curtains. Vixa lay down on the couch and closed her eyes. Her heart hammered, but she wasn’t sure if it was because someone was coming, or because the infuriating Naxos had just left.
Coryphene swept the curtain aside. “Awaken,
“I didn’t expect to wake again,” she told him, yawning widely.
“No other drylander has dared look upon Her Divine Majesty and been allowed to live. It is only because our divine queen saw through your feeble deception that you still breathe. She would not kill the blood kin of Kith- Kanan,” he declared.
“My feeble deception fooled you well enough.”
Coryphene’s fingers flexed around the pommel of the dagger in his belt. It was Armantaro’s weapon, Vixa realized. “Take her out!” Coryphene snapped to the soldiers accompanying him. The towering warriors ringed Vixa.
The Qualinesti princess itched to launch into them, but she didn’t feel like being beaten senseless. Coryphene would need very little provocation to thrash her. She was determined not to give him any. She rose coolly, straightened her robe. Coryphene stalked out, followed by Vixa and the guards.
Coryphene led her through a series of archways into the palace plaza. The whole of his private guard, some five hundred warriors, were drawn up in formation. Vixa entered the square of soldiers. At the center had been erected a table-a huge slice of mica supported by white coral legs. The hide of some large sea beast, tanned and whitened, was spread over the tabletop. Coryphene went to one side, while Vixa stood on the other.
On the hide was drawn a crude map. The seafloor around Urione was rendered in fine detail, but the farther regions were vague. Along one edge, Vixa saw a thin line drawn. It took her a moment to realize that this represented the southern coastline of Ansalon.
“Indicate on this map where Qualinost is,” Coryphene said.
Vixa folded her arms across her chest and said nothing.
“We know Silvanost lies on the Thon-Thalas-how far inland is the city?” She only stared at him, lips pressed tightly together. “How deep is the Thon-Thalas?”
He might as well have asked a statue. The blue color of his face deepened to indigo. They stared at each other for a full minute, she with pale face set and impassive, he with ever darkening countenance.
“I can have you flayed alive!” he shouted at last.
“I will tell you nothing,” Vixa said evenly.
He whipped out Armantaro’s dagger and raised it high. For a heart-stopping moment, Vixa was certain he was going to plunge it into her. But the weapon’s downswing ended with the dagger embedded in the middle of the map. Coryphene drove it in with such force that it stuck in the mica tabletop. He released it, and it stood there, quivering.
The Protector’s color returned to normal. In a much calmer tone, he stated, “I know your kind, lady. Brute force only reminds you of your duty. Very well. Let us see how stiff your neck is after a few days in the Nissia Grotto.” He spat a command, and eight warriors ringed the Qualinesti princess.
“To the grotto with her. Let her work alongside her servants. If the cold and damp don’t soften her pride, perhaps the close proximity of the chilkit will.”
A hood was dropped over Vixa’s head, and her hands bound behind her back. Blinded, she stumbled along, guided by the shoves of her guards. Having been up and down the city’s central ramp several times, she tried to visualize her path. She recognized the incense of the temple level and the noise and odors of the nearby fish market. When at last the hood was dragged from her head, she saw she was at a quayside pool identical to the one by which she’d first entered the city. Dolphins coursed through the water, and for an instant she thought Naxos had come to rescue her.
But only for an instant. As the bonds were removed from her wrists, she shook herself mentally. She couldn’t depend upon outside help to rescue her and her friends. They would have to save themselves.
Coryphene’s guards tied a weighted belt around her waist, handed her an airshell, and shoved her down the
