“Fair enough. You needn’t touch thread or needles of any kind. I see us spending the bulk of our time on a country estate. Someplace with sheep, hedges, and”
Something pale and luminous stirred at the edge of his vision. Startled, he looked around. A shape was oozing through the crack between the door and the jamb. Once clear, it hovered in the air, thickened, and wriggled until it shaped itself into a spectral hand. It crooked its index finger in Anton’s direction.
“What’s the matter?” Shandri asked.
She was looking where he was, but plainly perceived nothing out of the ordinary. Tu’ala’keth had explained that if she used this particular spell, only he would be able to see the disembodied messenger.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “I thought I heard the server on the stairs. But I’ve just now remembered something. I have to go.”
She frowned. “Why? I’m your captain. What urgent obligation can you have if I didn’t impose it on you?” “It’s Tu’ala’keth. I promised to assist with a ceremony. Something she must do tonight, before the tide goes out.”
“Curse it, the waveservant is under my authority as well. Her wishes don’t take precedence over mine. You” Shandri caught herself. “No. I’m just being bitchy because I’m disappointed. I don’t really want you to break a promise to Tu’ala’keth. We’ll both attend her and worship as she instructs. She tells me I need to pay homage to the goddess, and here’s an opportunity.”
“I’m sorry. I wish you could accompany me, but Tu’ala’keth said I need to come alone.”
Shandri frowned. “That’s odd. Usually, she wants as many people as possible to pray and offer to Umberlee. She hates it if anyone holds back.”
“I guess it’s a special ritual. Please, stay here. Eat. The meal should be grand, so don’t let it go to waste. I’ll return as soon as I can.”
“Yes, you will. I order you to.”
He rose, she followed suit, and they embraced. She gave him a deep, passionate kiss, and it stirred him. It saddened him a little to reflect that in all likelihood, he’d never see her again.
He extricated himself from her arms, turned his back on her, and followed the floating hand: out of the room, down the stairs, and into the street.
Hanging several paces in front of him at head level, the construct led him through crowds of roistering pirates and finally into the quiet side street where he and Tu’ala’keth sometimes met. She stood waiting in the niche between the shanties. Two sea bags lay amid the litter at her feet, another indication things were happening fast.
The phantom hand blinked out of existence the instant he laid eyes on its maker. “I have our share of the Thayan treasure,” she said. “It may prove useful.”
“What’s going on?” he asked. “Did Vurgrom know where the cultists are? Did he finally give up the secret?”
“In essence, yes.”
Anton shook his head. “I can’t believe your luck.”
“Our ‘luck’ is the grace of Umberlee.”
“Then, not to quibble, but it’s too bad she didn’t give you even more of it. If everything had gone as planned, we wouldn’t be absconding so hastily.”
“Now that we have what we came for, it is time to go. But I confess, you are right. Vurgrom responded to my enchantments in a way I failed to anticipate, and he assaulted me.”
“You mean”
“I stopped him before it went very far then extorted information from him at knife point. After we parted company, I found it necessary to kill one of his underlings. Thus, it is possible Vurgrom’s folk are already hunting me. We will need to exercise caution as we make our departure.”
“Apparently so. How many of those pellets do you have left? The ones that let me breathe under water.”
“Only one.”
“Enough to let me swim or ride one of the seahorses a goodly distance from Dragon Isleand drown between islands when the magic wears off. We need to steal a small, fast boat.”
“It will be fast when I call the wind to fill the sails.”
“Good.” He stepped forward to pick up one of the sea bags, and a cry rang out.
“Men of Shark’s Blissl Of Vurgrom’s faction! I’ve found the traitors! Follow me!”
Anton pivoted to see Shandri standing on guard several yards away, glaring, dark sword shivering in her hands.
“I followed you,” she said. “I cared for you, but I’m not an imbecile, even though you played me for one, and what you were babbling just didn’t make sense.”
Anton reflected bitterly that he was the imbecile. Normally, he took care that no one shadowed him, but tonight, he’d been too busy keeping track of the ghostly hand. Whereas Shandri, with the ring that let her see in the dark, had had little difficulty keeping him in view.
“And I was wise to be suspicious,” the pirate continued. “Because, if I’m not mistaken, people worship Umberlee at the water’s edge, not in filthy little alleys.”
“All right,” he said, “I did mislead you. But I can explain.”
“Don’t bother. I heard some of what you and Tu’ala’keth had to say to one another. Enough to understand the two of you are spies. You came here to steal a secret, and now that you’ve got it, you hope to vanish in the night. Well, it won’t be that easy.” Once again, she shouted: “Shark’s Blissl Vurgrom’s men! I need you!”
“Be silent,” said Tu’ala’keth. “We have done no harm to you or your ship, and we intend none. But if you continue to shout, we will kill you.”
“‘No harm?’ What about your lies?”
“I said you can be strong, and so you can. The choice is up to you.”
Shandri sneered at Anton. “You told other lies besides that one.”
“Love is pleasant,” said Tu’ala’keth, “but it is a petty thing compared to the mastery and slaughter which are your birthright. You demean yourself by making much of it. Now sheathe your sword and trouble us no more. Otherwise, I will kill you.”
Shandri smiled. “Try.”
“As you wish,” said Tu’ala’keth. She gripped her bony pendant, started to conjure, and several men and ores came dashing around the corner and down the street. Umberlee, it seemed, was even stingier with her
“grace” than Anton had imagined. Folk were actually combing the streets for the shalarin, and they’d heard the pirate captain yell.
Sealmid was at the head of the pack, amethyst bow in hand. “You found them,” he said to Shandri. “I didn’t know you’d even joined the hunt.”
“Thus far,” said Tu’ala’keth, “you are all faithful worshipers of Umberlee. Do not offend her, lest she curse you.”
“We thaw what you did to Yuiredd,” said the first mate. “We’ll take our chantheth.” He pulled an arrow from the quiver hanging at his hip.
Retreating, Tu’ala’keth resumed her chant. Pirates drew their blades and stalked after her.
Shandri said, “Anton is mine.” She charged.
He snatched his cutlass from the scabbard, barely in time to parry a head cut. The clanging impact jolted down his arm.
“Don’t do this,” he said. “I don’t want to kill you, and you don’t really want to kill me.”
“Yes,” she said, “I do.” The dark blade leaped at him.
As they circled, he caught glimpses of Tu’ala’keth’s part of the battle. Now outlined in some sort of protective blue-green aura, she conjured a howl of sound. It staggered her foes but didn’t stop them. The next time he saw her, pirates were hacking at her, while Sealmid loosed an arrow. The shaft veered like a bird on the wing to swing wide of the archer’s comrades, turned, and struck the shalarin in the back. From his vantage point, Anton couldn’t tell whether it pierced her silverweave or not, but it knocked her lurching forward, and a broadsword slashed at her torso. Snarling, she caught the blow on the haft of her trident.
Her eyes seething with shadow like the greatsword, Shandri struck blow after furious blow, until Anton’s arm felt half-numb from the stress of parrying. It seemed impossible that anyone could hit so hard with such a
