pit. Surface dwelling priests and priestesses had the ability to turn the undead, as did the hated sea elves, but as a priestess for Sekolah, she had no such ability. The drowned ones had nearly killed her before one of the humans she'd been working with turned them back.
'I would have something from you,' Iakhovas told the thing.
'I have nothing.'
'It was yours at one time,' Iakhovas argued. 'I was told it still resided with your body.'
The thing ran its misshapen hands over its body. 'I was killed and robbed. I don't even remember being brought here.'
'Your name,' Iakhovas said, 'was Cuthbert Drin and you were brother to Halbazzer Drin, the owner of Sorcerous Sundries here in Baldur's Gate.'
'I'm in Baldur's Gate?'
'Yes.'
The dead thing moved uncertainly. Its face took on features as the rest of it sharpened into shape as well. Laaqueel realized whatever magic Iakhovas had laid on it was continuing to work.
'Release me,' the thing ordered, knotting its crooked fingers and hands into fists. 'This hurts.'
'No,' Iakhovas said.
'The time bij-rns!' The dead thing suddenly broke into a frenzy of activity, pacing and scratching itself. In places, the fingers penetrated the lime-covered skin. Tendrils of old blood wormed out, marring the white luster of the lime in the glowing globe's glare.
'Of course it burns,' Iakhovas said. 'It's a struggle to keep you alive at all.'
'You can't keep me like this.'
'Yes,' Iakhovas said. 'I can.'
The dead thing moved faster, almost up to a run in the small area. It clawed at the walls of the pit, seeking some way to get out. 'What do you want?'
'The ship you had with you on the day you were killed,' Iakhovas answered. 'It's mine, and I've come to claim it.'
'It was taken,' the dead thing argued.
'No,' Iakhovas replied. 'I traced your steps, Cuthbert Drin, through the ordinary means of agents planted here at Baldur's Gate, and through scrying and divining into the past. After I had the facts, I found the moment in time you discovered the bottle high in the Orsraun Mountains near the Vilhon Reach. You and your brother, Halbazzer, found mention of the bottled ship in scrolls that came into your hands at the shop. Even twenty years ago, his rigorous adventuring days were behind him, robbed by the poisoned knife of an assassin hired to kill him. The damage was so great he never fully recovered from the attack. You had the bottled ship the day you died, and your murderers didn't find it.'
'How do you know this?'
'I found two of your murderers,' Iakhovas said. 'I took the time to question them, and I made certain of the veracity of their stories as I stripped their lives from them one layer at a time. Both stories, in the end, were screamed out and agreed on the fact that the killers hadn't seen the bottled ship.'
'You know the mystery of the bottle?' the dead thing asked, picking at the lime-encrusted shreds of flesh hanging off it. 'Though I tried any number of ways, I never succeeded in opening it. Even the glass wouldn't shatter.'
'I know the secret of the bottle,' Iakhovas said. 'I petitioned the elemental beings who created it, trading with them for their services.' He narrowed his single eye and deepened his voice. 'Now give it to me or I'll leave you there like that, unable to ever escape the fiery kiss of the lime that ate away your flesh and bones.'
'No!' The dead thing slapped and massaged at itself, still walking, still uncomfortable.
'Then burn.' Iakhovas started to walk away.
'Wait,' the dead thing whined.
Laaqueel watched as the dead thing dug down into the lime ashes and found a small bottle. The dead thing tossed it up to Iakhovas.
Stretching out a hand, Iakhovas said a word. Instantly the lime-encrusted bottle stopped, hovering above and not quite touching his palm. He took out a cloth from his cloak with his other hand, then wrapped it around the bottle and put it away without getting burned.
'I've done what you asked of me, wizard,' the dead thing said, wrapping its arms around itself and rocking with the pain. 'Where is my release?'
Iakhovas gestured and spoke.
Immediately the dead thing disappeared in a cloud of whirling white lime.
Iakhovas replaced the stone slab that covered the hole. 'Come, little malenti,' he growled in anticipation, 'we've tarried here long enough.' He turned and strode back down the passageway in the direction they'd come, the glowing globe keeping pace with him.
Still unnerved by her experience and not wanting to confront any undead in the tight tunnel by herself, Laaqueel hurried after her master.
As the horses and wagon tumbled the eight or ten feet to the black harbor water, Jherek gathered himself and dived from the horse's back. He plummeted toward the water and hit it cleanly, going under at once. Kicking out, he swam for the thrashing horses, aware of the sahuagin and the other sea creatures filling the water around him. Some of them changed course and headed for him.
He shoved the hook in the sash around his waist and closed on the horses with his sword. Grabbing the traces, he dragged the heavy sword blade across them, parting the leather in seconds. One of the horses swam away, but the other gave in to the wounds the sahuagin had inflicted on it and went still in the water.
Turning his attention back to the wagon, Jherek gratefully saw that it was tight enough at the sideboards and light enough to float-at least for the moment. Still, if the powder kegs had gotten too wet, Khlinat's plan wouldn't work.
The young sailor kicked out and swam to the wagon ahead of a pair of sahuagin. He grabbed the side with his empty hand and expertly pulled his weight aboard without tipping the wagon over. Sonshal worked among the kegs, stuffing fuses into their lids. The slow match coiled over his shoulder glowed orange more brightly when he blew on it to get the coal at its hottest.
Jherek dripped on the wagon. Two inches of water swirled around his boots as the impromptu craft took on water like a sieve. 'We don't have much time,' he told Sonshal.
'I'm aware of that, boy,' the man said, 'but if these fuses aren't measured off properly and cut right, we're not going to get the effect your friend is wanting.'
Jherek glanced around. 'Where is he?' He had to shout over the screams and hoarse yells of sailors and the men on the docks.
'I don't know.' Sonshal took a brief respite to boot a sahuagin who was trying to climb onto the wagon, knocking the sea devil back into the water. 'I lost sight of him when we hit the water and barely managed to stay with the wagon myself.' He poked another fuse into the next barrel.
Concerned, Jherek peered into the water, uncertain if he'd see the dwarf for sure. Too many warring shades of light and darkness overlapped the dark harbor water, turning it alternately into a bright, reflective surface or into a dark and depthless one. Men died quickly out there, on sahuagin claws or tridents, broken and torn apart by the great creatures that had been summoned from the river.
A hand broke the surface only a few feet away.
Jherek reached out and caught the hand, then balanced his weight on the wagon as he took on the dwarfs weight and pulled him from the water. Khlinat's face was masked with fresh blood mixed with water that ran quickly down his chin and throat. He blew his nose noisily and freed his hand axes. Bellowing curses, the peg-legged dwarf hurled himself at their foes.
Jherek defended the other side, keeping the sea devils from Sonshal's back and from the wagon. He ignored the fatigue that filled him, and the throbbing pain that came from the laceration by his eye. In his mind, he imagined Malorrie there, guiding his hand by voice control.
'It's done!' Sonshal roared in warning. 'Get overboard!' He dived over himself, setting the example. Khlinat hit the water next.
Jherek took a final glance over his shoulder and watched the smoke streaming from the fuses tucked securely
