Diran couldn't help smiling. 'So what's your excuse? You're only half human, after all.'
Ghaji shrugged. 'I guess I'm the half that can't bring himself to kill a friend…even when he should.'
The two companions spoke no more on the matter, and the Zephyr continued toward Perhata's docks.
Rather than finding a berth for the Zephyr at the docks, Yvka dropped off the others then sailed away. She planned to return the elemental sloop to the secluded location where she'd hidden her before-both to conceal her from those who might be tempted to steal the priceless craft as well as to protect Makala while she slumbered. Yvka promised to meet up with the others later at the King Prawn. Ghaji felt a bit nervous about the idea of Yvka being alone with Makala, even if the latter was sleeping, but he reassured himself that Yvka could deal with whatever threat came her way, including an attack by a vampire. Besides, Yvka would be safe enough as long as the sun was up… he hoped.
As Ghaji, Diran, Hinto, Tresslar, and Asenka walked down the dock to shore, Ghaji said, 'So where were we before being so rudely interrupted by Haaken and his crew?'
'We'd decided to track down the barghest that attempted to steal Tresslar's dragonwand,' Diran said.
'A worthy goal, if I do say so myself.' Tresslar yawned, 'but perhaps it might be best if we got some sleep first. We spent most of the night chasing after you two, and while we dozed aboard the Zephyr, I wouldn't exactly call a few catnaps a restful sleep.'
'I'm not tired,' Hinto said, 'but then I'm not an old man like you, Tresslar.'
'Old?' The artificer gave a derisive snort. 'I prefer to think of myself as seasoned.'
The others laughed, but Ghaji had to admit Tresslar had a point. Even though Diran's healing powers had countered the effects of the amber sleep, Ghaji still felt a weary ache in his bones. Diran's ability to heal could work miracles, but it didn't replace the need to attend to one's natural functions. Ghaji could use a soft bed right now, even if he was alone in it.
Ghaji expected Diran to protest, for the priest could drive himself quite hard at times, but instead Diran let out a weary sigh. 'I suppose you're right, Tresslar. Much as I hate to postpone our hunt for the barghest, it has been an eventful couple of days. Besides, we'll be all the sharper after a bit of rest.'
'I'll return to the Scorpions' barracks and have my people put the word out about the barghest,' Asenka said. 'Perhaps they can learn something of the creature's whereabouts.'
Diran gave the woman a grateful smile. 'That would be helpful. Thank you.'
They held each other's gaze a few moments longer than necessary, and it was clear to Ghaji that Makala's return hadn't diminished Diran's attraction to the commander of the Sea Scorpions nor hers to him. Ghaji wondered if that was a good sign, or a sign of trouble to come. Both, he decided.
'I think we might have to postpone our rest,' Hinto said. The halfling's voice held a note of fear, and everyone turned to see what had disturbed the diminutive pirate.
From the far end of the dock, a wolf came bounding toward them at terrific speed. It leaped at Tresslar and its jaws snapped closed around the dragonwand. The impact spun Tresslar sideways, and as the artificer hit the worn, wooden planks, the wolf yanked the wand free of his belt and dashed off.
Ghaji drew his axe, intending to hurl it at the fleeing barghest, but before he could draw back his arm to throw his weapon, a pair of silver daggers flashed through the air. Diran's knives struck the barghest between the shoulder blades, and the creature howled in agony. The barghest stumbled, its forelegs slid out from under it, and the dragonwand fell from its mouth as the beast collapsed.
Ghaji ran to the barghest without waiting to see if the others followed. He knew they would. The half-orc willed his elemental axe to burst into flame, and as he saw the wounded barghest scrabbling toward the dragonwand, clearly intending to retrieve it, Ghaji hurled his weapon. The axe tumbled end over end, flame trailing behind as it streaked toward its target. The axe blade struck the barghest in the side of its neck, and when the creature opened its mouth to scream, a gout of blood fountained forth instead.
'Ghaji!' Diran shouted. 'Decapitate the beast!'
By the time Ghaji reached the barghest, its fur had caught fire. The flames rapidly spread across its body, which became slightly more humanoid as the barghest reverted to its natural form. Even wounded as it was, the beast continued to attempt to regain the dragonwand, now reaching for it with clawed fingers. Ghaji had no idea whether the barghest could command the wand's magic, but he wasn't about to let the creature get hold of it. He jammed his foot against the barghest's side to hold the beast in place, reached down, and yanked the axe free from the creature's neck. Blood gushed from the wound, and the barghest once more tried to cry out in pain but only managed to release a bubbling gurgle. Ghaji intended for it to be the last sound the beast ever made. He raised his flaming axe, ready to bring it down and end the barghest's infernal life.
Diran Bastiaan!
Ghaji grimaced as the voice thundered within his mind. He felt sudden pressure inside his skull, as if his brain were swelling rapidly, like a huge boil getting ready to burst. He forgot about the barghest, forgot he was holding his axe. All he could think about was the voice, and how much it hurt.
Return what you have stolen from me!
Ghaji's grip on his axe loosened, and he possessed just enough presence of mind to deactivate its fiery aura before the weapon fell to the dock. Ghaji followed his axe down, landing hard on his knees, though he barely felt the impact. He clapped his hands to his head, as if he were trying to hold his skull together, and clenched his jaw against the pain tearing through his mind.
Where are you? Thief! Monster! Face me!
Each word was like a hammer blow to the head, and Ghaji fell over onto his side, moaning, tears streaming from his eyes. He felt something warm and wet on his upper lip, and realized that blood trickled from his nostrils. He tried to rise but his body refused to listen. All he could do was lie there and wait for the voice of thunder to kill him and bring his agony to an end.
Skarm was aware of the voice speaking in his mind, but he had more pressing concerns to deal with at that moment-like putting out the flames that were rapidly consuming his body. He had lost a great deal of blood and was very weak, but he was a supernatural creature, and though it remained an effort for him to do so, still he could move, if only barely. He pushed himself to the edge of the dock inch by tortuous inch-practically dragging his half- severed head-until he felt himself teeter and then slip over the side. The frigid water came as a welcome shock to his pain-ravaged body, and the flames snuffed out.
Skarm floated in the soothing embrace of the sea for several moments before his lungs began to scream for air. He swam toward where he judged the dock to be, and surprised himself when his clawed hands actually came in contact with wood. He grabbed hold of the support and climbed painfully to the surface. When his head broke water, he drew a gasping breath and then clung tight to the wet wood of the support as he continued to breathe. Hidden from sight by the dock above him, he was safe-for the moment, at least, but if the half-orc and his friends thought to search under it…
Then he heard the voice again, a voice speaking in his mind, he realized, calling for Diran Bastiaan. The barghest's mind was not like that of a natural creature, and though he heard the psionic shout, it caused him little discomfort-a blessing considering that every other part of his body was in utter agony. He had one other thing to be grateful for as well: whoever or whatever the psionic communication issued from, the voice was calling for the priest. That meant Bastiaan and the half-orc had bigger problems to worry about then tracking down a wounded barghest-and that suited Skarm just fine.
Diran possessed no priestly powers that would allow him to block the shout in his mind, but he did know numerous meditation techniques-some learned at Emon Gorsedd's academy, some when he was studying for the priesthood-and he employed them now. He closed his eyes and pictured a pond, its surface smooth as glass. The voice spoke again and the pond rippled, but Diran imagined a soft breeze blowing across the water's surface, smoothing away the ripples until the pond was still once more. The pain the voice had caused receded, replaced by a feeling of peaceful calm. Then, and only then, did Diran reply to the voice.
I am at the docks. I shall await you here.
The voice didn't reply, but Diran felt the pressure begin to ease, as if his head had been held tight within a giant vise grip that was finally being removed.
He opened his eyes.
Ghaji was struggling to his feet near a scorched section of the dock. Of the barghest there was no sign. Tresslar hung limp in Asenka's arms as the woman worked to haul the artificer to a standing position. Hinto lay on his side, curled into a ball, trembling violently. All of them had bloody noses-Diran dabbed his fingers to his upper
