This evoked an immediate response from Gord, who was less interested in the technicalities of magic than Gellor was, and not totally uninterested and uncomprehending as Chert was. 'Where should we be?'
'There is a helix over Chendl.'
'That is where we planned to go,' said Gord.
'Perhaps the display is deceiving,' the archmage countered.
'If so?'
'You must make a choice. Before the whole display became too dangerous and difficult for me to read, I believe I detected a curious flux pattern.'
'Please explain this to us, archmage,' the one-eyed bard asked with renewed interest. 'Perhaps we can discern our course from what you observed.'
Tenser drew himself up, puffed out his cheeks, and nodded. 'Who can know? Still, perhaps it will mean something to you. For a brief time a Y-shaped pattern seemed to flow. It ran from the Kron Hills area straight toward Chendl. One arm stretched over the Vesve Forest and the Valley of Highfolk. The second was unstable, but arced toward the eastern shores of Whyestil Lake, vibrating as does a lute string when plucked. It all lasted but briefly, and then the spiraling helix replaced it as powers fought to cloak their designs.'
At this point Tenser rose and left the chamber. The three adventurers began an animated discussion of what their course should be. The southern area was easily assessed and could be discarded as a possibility. They knew what was happening there, and that the elves of Celene and their allies must deal with it as best they could. Certainly the Second Key traveled along one of the two arms of the Y-shaped force. But which arm? The one vibrating between Dorakaa and Molag showed the great tension between the foul Iuz and the Hierarchs. Summoning of their deity indicated the Hierarchs thought the thing they sought to be near their southern border. But the flux showed that Iuz might know otherwise. There was also the question of relative power. How was it that the cambion, fell and terrible as Iuz was, could resist such as Nerull? Demonaic assistance was the only reasonable conclusion.
The left branch of the Y was a less certain clue. There might be interplay with the archmagi of Highfolk leagued with Mordenkainen and his circle of wizards, with a countering pull again emanating from Dorakaa. But why? What was transpiring along such a line?
'The thing Melf sought went northward from Littleberg with the brigand leader,' Chert recalled.
'That's right! The stroke toward Chendl, the arm running to the northwest. One trail false, the other true!' Gord cried in enthusiasm.
Gellor sobered both young men by pointing out that the pattern might have indicated nothing more than points of power in conflict, a concord of such force, or any number of other things. He then spoke encouragement. 'Yet, the border area between Furyondy and Veluna offers a good route for one seeking the safety of the Vesve, for that wild forest could hide much. It is the only route that one journeying to meet with Iuz could follow, what with the forces in the south seeking to prevent it and the Horned Lords and their master ravening to the east.'
'Finding a dwarf in that forest is as vain as seeking a needle in a haystack,' Gord said gloomily.
The barbarian brightened. 'Melf recounted how he once did just that, only the pin was magical and there were a multitude of haystacks. He said he'd fired the lot and sifted the ash!'
'Burning down the whole of the Vesve is impractical, to say the least,' Gellor commented dryly.
'His recounting the tale has merit, I think,' Gord said as the barbarian slumped back in his chair at Gellor's remark. 'If this Obmi has the Second Key, then Iuz, much as Melf did, must locate dwarf and key and see them to Dorakaa. The 'smoke' of such 'burning' will leave a distinct trail. No petty escort will be sent to retrieve something so powerful as that piece of artifact!'
'Gord, my young friend,' Gellor said with a beaming smile, 'you and Chert there are something more than a pair of sharp swords! I begin to think that your mind is keener than that enchanted blade you so prize, for between the two of you have put the point to the vitals. It is to the Vesve Forest's shadowy depths we venture.'
'How?' the two young adventurers asked in unison.
'That is easy,' interjected Tenser as he strode into the chamber, 'if you don't fear waterdragons.'
Chapter 20
The rush of green water became darker and more frightening as the monster dived deeper. Huge fish, dwarfed by the bulk of the creature writhing through the depths, darted away in fear. Then a thing only a bit smaller than the monster swam up, but it was unwilling to cope with the ferocity of the would-be meal, and it sank out of sight almost immediately. The monster arrowed through the water a hundred feet beneath the surface, and slowly the light above faded as the sun moved toward the unseen horizon in the west.
Gord could not speak. He, his friends, and a strange, silent man rode the back of the great waterdragon. Those things that would be harmed by immersion were sealed within a metal case as proof against damage. The case and the men were strapped to the scaly back of the monster. It swam so swiftly that even the stout straps would have been sundered were it not for a crystalline shield that sheltered their heads and upper bodies from the force of the water.
Tenser had led them below his castle. Taking a labyrinthine route, they had eventually emerged in a large cavern tilled with water. There lived the waterdragon. Unlike the great dragon turtles, this vast creature had no carapace. It appeared much as would a red dragon, save its wings were vestigial — more like the great flukes of whales — and its feet were webbed. The scales of the waterdragon's back were aquamarine, and its underside the color of old ivory. Where upper and lower scales met there was a band of deepest sea-green color. The monster was beautiful in its way. It was also frightening in aspect. Tenser had explained that the creature was a guardian of his fortress, but he would forego its protection for a time in order for their party to be carried swiftly across the Nyr Dyv to a place from where they could travel by other means. None of the men had understood just how swift their passage was to be.
The spell-binder had somehow signaled, and the silent man and several servants had come into the cavern and attached the rig to the great dragon's back. It made no objection. Rather, the monster gazed fondly at the archmage with its fishlike eyes — something that Gord could but wonder at, for never had he seen expression in the eyes of fish or reptile. Or rather, he thought, any expression but cold hatred or ravening hunger. Tenser stroked the scaled muzzle and fed the dragon fish often- or twelve-pound size. They were like minnows to the maw that snapped them up.
'Never have I seen a waterdragon!' Gellor exclaimed as he admired the great creature.
'They are rare,' Tenser admitted. 'I have seen only two myself, and when this little fellow grows up he will leave me for the depths of the ocean.'
So much for that.
Then each of the three, in turn, was introduced to the monster. It hissed softly at each, and it took all of Gord's resolve not to tremble when his turn came. The creature was not showing anger or giving warning, however, when it vented the sound. The waterdragon was intelligent, and was acknowledging each man as not-food. At least that is what Tenser had told them, and there was every reason to believe he spoke the truth. All the while the archmage crooned and made hissing noises to the monster, and it made odd sounds in reply.
'Now, my friend here agrees to convey you swiftly and safely as far as he can, and there you will be met by others who will see that your journey continues,' Tenser said at last. Then he gave each of the three an antique diadem of bronze set with aquamarines and covered with sigils. 'These enable you to survive underwater for a time — long enough for your journey and then some. Do not breathe while you have these headbands on! Instead, merely relax and the dweomer of these ancient devices will bring clean air into your bodies and remove the used breath. Return them to my servant when you come to the end of your ride.'
The end of the journey came soon enough. The great waterdragon swam tirelessly for more than a dozen hours to bring them to their journey's end — at least that portion that was of watery element. The dragon brought them suddenly into open air, writhed ashore, and, turning its head to gaze at them with huge eyes, hissed farewell. The silent man signaled for them to dismount, holding out his hand for the diadems. The three complied quickly. Their gear was handed down by the fellow, and then waterdragon and rider were gone.
Gilled folk that were neither nixies nor aquatic elves but something similar, yet altogether different, greeted
