pleasure. He didn’t know if he could truly escape, but now that he’d recovered his vigor, maybe he could at least free himself from the rope and find out what lay beyond the nondescript room in which the shalarin had imprisoned him.
Floating in the center of the chamber, he turned his attention to the complex knot securing the cord to his ankle. He’d spent hours picking at it, but it remained as tight as ever. Evidently it bore some enchantment.
With luck, his own magic would counter it. He murmured a charm, marveling once again that he could speak as plainly as if he were on land. In fact, he could function here without much difficulty of any kind. He saw clearly and moved quickly, without the water hindering him. Plainly, the enchantment must have been responsible for that as well, and he wondered if such conditions only prevailed within this one building or if the entire submerged city was equally accommodating.
The knot squirmed and untied itself. He smiled, swam to the doorway, and peeked out into the larger room beyond.
As he’d suspected, it was a temple of Umberlee, dominated by a towering statue of the Queen of the Depths herself. Bigger than a giant, clad in her high-collared cape and seashell ornaments, the deity had risen from the waves to smash a cog with her trident. Sharks cut through the water to seize the mariners toppling overboard.
Smaller sculptures, representations of predatory sea creatures and hideous things that might be aquatic demons, lurked in alcoves. Mosaics depicting Umberlee’s battles against Selune, Chauntea, and other gods adorned the high ceiling and walls. Heaped offerings covered the several altars and overflowed onto the floor.
It was all rather magnificent in a grim sort of way, but somewhat surprisingly, at the moment no one else was here to tend or marvel at the splendor. Anton hesitated then swam to the nearest of the altars to see if some worshiper had given Umberlee a weapon.
A cutlass caught his eye. He pulled the short, curved sword from its scabbard and came on guard, testing the balance and weight. It felt good in his hand, so light and eager that, like his lost dagger, it must have magic bound in the blade. He sheathed it, buckled it onto his belt, turned, and froze.
The shalarin floated in a big arched doorway that likely led outside the temple. In the days she’d tended him, he’d had a chance to observe other details of her appearance. Her dark blue skin wasn’t scaly like a fish’s, as he initially imagined, but smooth like a dolphin’s. The round mark on her brow was red. Here in the depths, she dispensed with her goggles, revealing eyes that were glistening black, all pupil. They gave him a level stare.
“It is death to rob Umberlee,” she said in a cold contralto voice. “Fortunately, you have not. It is her will that you take the blade.”
“You’re talking.”
“Yes.”
“You wouldn’t before.”
“I did not understand your language and doubted you understood mine. I had to trade for this.” She extended her hand, drawing his attention to a striped tiger-coral ring. “Its magic enables me to speak to you.”
“Oh.” His ordeal and its bizarre aftermath must have muddled his wits because that simple explanation for her silence had never occurred to him. “Lady, I’m grateful for your care, and I mean no harm. I only took the cutlass because it alarmed me that you kept me tied and never answered when I spoke.” She might at least have given him a reassuring pat on the shoulder or something.
“I kept you secured so you wouldn’t wander and come to harm. And because you now belong to Umberlee.”
He hesitated. “Exactly what do you mean?”
“What I say. Tell me your name.”
“Anton Marivaldi, out of Alaghon, in Turmish.” He wondered if the place names meant anything to her.
“I am Tu’ala’keth, waveservant, member of the Faiths Caste, keeper of Umberlee’s house in Myth Nantar.”
He assumed Myth Nantar was the name of the city. He’d heard vague reports of such a place, a metropolis where the various undersea races, and even a few expatriates from the surface world, dwelled together. “I understood that you’re a divine. Are you saying you laid claim to me somehow, in your goddess’s name?”
A glimmering membrane flicked across the blackness of her eyes. Perhaps it was a shalarin’s equivalent of a blink. “Yes. What is unclear?”
“Among my folk, you can’t just take possession of another person, even if you save his life.”
“I did not; Umberlee did.” She waved a hand at their surroundings. “What do you see?”
He didn’t know what she wanted him to say. “Riches. Sacred things.”
“Neglect!” the shalarin snapped. “All the treasures here are old. Who now offers at Umberlee’s altars?”
“In my world, every seafarer who wants to come safely back into port.”
“But few here, where every creature should adore her. I will tell you the tale, Anton Marivaldi, and you will understand why and how she has chosen you.”
“Please.” He needed to comprehend what she had in mind so he could talk her out of it.
“How much do you know of shalarins?”
He shrugged. “You live in the Sea of Fallen Stars. You’re no great friends to humanity but no foul scourge like the sahuagin, either.”
“We did not always live here. Our race was born in the Sea of Corynactis.”
“I never heard of it.”
“It lies on the far side of the world. Three thousand years ago, some of my folk found their way here. But the mystic gate connecting the two seas closed, trapping them, and so they, and their descendants, were exiled from their home.”
“That’s unfortunate,” he said, but he couldn’t imagine what it had to do with him.
“The exiles endured many griefs and misfortunes. One was losing touch with the gods of their forefathers. Those deities apparently had no interest in Faerun or lacked the ability to project their power into these waters.”
Anton waved his hand, indicating the statue of Umberlee. “It looks as if your ancestors adapted. They started worshiping the gods who rule hereabouts.”
“Yes,” said Tu’ala’keth, “and were surely the better for it, for no deity is greater than Umberlee. Her favor enabled them to prosper. Yet now the faithless idiots turn their backs on her!”
More puzzled than ever, Anton shook his head. “Why?”
“Because two years ago the gate to the Sea of Corynactis opened againpermanently this time.” She smiled grimly, or at least he took it for a smile. He wasn’t sure her changes of expression always signified the same emotions they would in a human face. “That is a shalarin secret, by the way. It is death for you to know.”
“In that case, thanks so much for telling me.”
“You must know in order to understand. Since the gate opened, the shalarins of the two realms can communicate, and with that communication has come a great curiosity, an enthusiasm”her tone invested the words with bitter scorn”for the religions of our ancestors, even though those feeble godlings still lack the strength to manifest here. Folk pray to them in preference to Umberlee.”
Anton could understand why a worshiper might prefer another deitymost any other deityto the savage, greedy Bitch Queen, but saw no advantage in saying so. “Maybe they’ll return to Umberlee once the novelty of the new cults wears off.”
Tu’ala’keth glared at him. “I am a waveservant. I can’t simply wait for them to change their foolish minds. It is my duty to bring them back.”
“With my help?” What in the name of the Red Knight could she possibly be thinking?
“If they weren’t blind and deaf, they would have returned already, gashing their flesh and shedding their blood to beg their goddess’s forgiveness. At her bidding, a host of dragons has banded together and started ravaging Seros, to punish those who failed to give her her due. The entire commonwealth is in peril.”
Anton frowned. “Lady, with respect, for the past few months, something called a Rage of Dragons has been occurring. All across Faervin, wyrms are uniting to slaughter and destroy. The shalarins’ problem isn’t unique.”
“It still embodies the wrath of Umberlee. Otherwise, the army of Seros would have destroyed the drakes, instead of the other way around.”
“Well… maybe.”
“I proclaimed that only Umberlee could save us. I preached it as clearly as I explained it to you. But no one
