Before the kuo-toa monitor could complete his dark promise, Shang-Li flipped through the air and landed in front of the sailors. He set himself, a fighting stick in each hand.
Turning its head one way and then the other, Gibblesnippt studied Shang-Li. The fish-man’s gills flared and closed rapidly.
“Who are you and why are you so ready to die?” Gibblesnippt demanded.
“If you leave now,” Shang-Li said, “I won’t kill you as I have killed your companions.”
For the first time, the kuo-toa looked back and saw the dead that Shang-Li had left in his wake.
Thankfully, the sailors hadn’t been so frozen that they forgot to save themselves. Three others joined the two trying to get the boat out into the surf. Together, they managed the task, but all of them knew the kuo-toa could easily overtake them in the water.
“You’re going to fight me with a stick?” Gibblesnippt taunted.
“I’m going to kill you with a stick if need be.” Shang-Li didn’t move. Five kuo-toa remained before him. Only two of the sailors stood ready beside him. Rain pounded Shang-Li’s face and caused him to blink.
Moonwhisper glided overhead, held in check only by Shang-Li’s unspoken command.
“You’re a very foolish human,” Gibblesnippt growled. It gestured with the pincer staff.
In response, two of the kuo-toa drew heavy crossbows and fired. The quarrels flashed through the air as lightning streaked the sky.
Relying on his instinct and training, Shang-Li spun from the path of one of the quarrels and knocked the other from its flight with a fighting stick. As he came back around, he plucked a handful of throwing stars from his clothing and flicked them into motion.
The throwing stars whispered through the air and thudded into the kuo-toa. The sharp blades weren’t enough to kill or disable unless they struck an eye, and Shang-Li didn’t have time to be that accurate. He slipped his sticks from his sleeve again and launched himself at the monitor.
Gibblesnippt raised the pincer staff to block Shang-Li’s advance. Instead of batting the weapon aside with the fighting sticks, Shang-Li rolled beneath it. He came up inside the monitor’s two arms, his fists clutching the sticks. Before Gibblesnippt could react, Shang-Li brought the iron-capped ends into both of his opponent’s eyes, blinding him at once.
Bellowing in pain, Gibblesnippt stepped back and tried to trap Shang-Li in his grasp. Instead, Shang-Li ducked under the kuo-toa’s outstretched arms and took a step to the side. Deftly, the young monk stabbed his fighting stick into his opponent’s gill slit and shoved the end through the creature’s brain.
A deafening howl ripped from the kuo-toa’s large mouth. Blood streamed from its ruined eyes. Blinded and out of control, Gibblesnippt staggered backward and collapsed onto two of its followers.
Four surviving fish-men stood frozen for a moment. The creatures took courage from the leaders. When one of those was slain, the kuo-toa generally retreated until another from among them was chosen.
Shang-Li stayed in motion. He slipped his fighting sticks back up his sleeves and grabbed one of the heavy harpoons dropped by one of the other fallen kuo-toa. Whirling, he threw it with all his strength. The harpoon crunched through one of the kuo-toa’s chests.
The stricken kuo-toa fell backward to its knees and cried out for help. None of its companions offered aid. The fish-man struggled to get to its feet, but one of the sailors stepped forward and slashed off its head.
The head thumped to the ground and lay on one side. The visible eye circled its orbit frantically while the mouth gasped.
Without a word, the three able kuo-toa bolted from the fight and ran for the water. The fish-men heaved into the sea and disappeared at once.
The two sailors that had remained with Shang-Li quickly darted forward to search the bodies of the kuo-toa. Their knives flashed as they slashed through purse drawstrings.
Shang-Li didn’t think they would get much for their trouble. The kuo-toa didn’t put much stock in the idea of surface dwellers’ wealth. Still, they wore gold ornamentation and that was worth something.
Just as he started to turn away, lightning blazed and a blue flash caught Shang-Li’s eye. He knelt beside the kuo-toa monitor and examined the necklace the fish-man wore. Even after further inspection, he couldn’t divine the nature of the device.
But the fact that it was deep blue when nothing else about the creature echoed that color interested him.
Shang-Li closed its fist around the device to pull it free. As soon as his flesh closed over the necklace, he felt the coldness of the Blue Lady on him again. He took his hand back, used his knife to cut free the necklace, and dropped it into his pouch.
The longboat was out to sea and the sailors had clambered aboard. Two of them rowed while the other three fumbled for oars.
Kuo-toa still assaulted Swallow in the harbor, but the attacks were less fierce. However, there was no telling when the fish-men would regroup, or how many would arrive. The harbor was no longer safe.
Shang-Li stood. “It’s time to go.”
The two sailors stood, their prizes held in their fists. They glanced down at the dead men littering the beach.
“What about the others?” the oldest of them asked.
“We can’t take them with us and we can’t stay to bury them.” Shang-Li hated the coldness in his voice. Such a thing was horrible to contemplate, much less do. “We will offer prayers for them when we’re able.”
Steeling himself, Shang-Li ran for the surf and dived in. When he surfaced, he swam for the ship.
Several bodies of slain kuo-toa bobbed on the water near Swallow. Many of them had arrows through their heads, silent truth of the archers’ marksmanship aboardship.
As they bumped gently into the ship, a few of the sailors spat at the dead fish-men. Muttered curses floated over the water.
Taking hold of the net draped over the ship’s side, Shang-Li quickly climbed aboard. When he saw his father standing on the deck still holding a longbow with an arrow nocked to string, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Kwan Yung didn’t look any worse for wear other than a few scrapes on his cheek and chin. An empty quiver and a near-empty quiver hung at his side.
“You are all right?” his father asked.
Shang-Li nodded. “It was a close thing.”
Above, Moonwhisper spread his wings and landed in the rigging.
Several of the sailors worked together to hoist the bodies of kuo-toa from the deck. Only a few of the creatures had reached the ship. None of them had survived. All of them got thrown back into the sea.
Captain Chiang joined them. Gray touched the temples of his long hair, which he wore pulled back in a queue. He was somewhere in his middle years, between Shang-Li and his father. The right side of his face held two long scars. He was fit and trim, and had a reputation for being a man who lived by his honor. Both the blades he wore dripped crimson.
“Where did the kuo-toa come from?” Chiang asked quietly. Though his ship had suffered and several of his men were dead, he acted calm and focused.
“I didn’t see,” Shang-Li said. “The sound of the attack drew me.”
“They came out of the water, captain,” one of the survivors from the shore patrol replied. “You didn’t disturb them?”
“No. We were just loading the water barrels and they attacked us.”
Chiang leaned on the railing and surveyed the harbor. “I’ve stopped here several times. Other than the occasional pirate ship, these waters have always been safe. I’ve never before encountered kuo-toa.”
“Maybe it was aboleths,” one of the crewmen suggested.
The man’s words instantly reminded Shang-Li of Bayel Droust’s fate aboard Grayling. But there had been no talk of aboleths during that attack, no hint that these kuo-toa served the psionic behemoths that ranged over the Sea of Fallen Stars.
“If it was aboleths that put the kuo-toa onto us,” another crewman said, “they would have turned us to servitors.”
Several of the men shuddered at that. When a human succumbed to the power of an aboleth, he was changed. His outer skin turned into a slimy membrane that allowed him to live better beneath the sea and serve the
