heeded. Finally I forsook Myth Nantar for the wilds of the open sea. It is there one feels closest to the Queen of the Depths, and there, I hoped, I would hear her speak, instructing me on how to achieve her ends.”
“That’s when you stumbled across me?”
“Yes. I lingered to watch your death as a form of meditation. When the sea takes a life, it is a holy event. Umberlee reveals herself to those with eyes to see “
Anton reckoned he, too, might be starting to “see.” “But I didn’t die.”
“No,” said Tu’ala’keth. “Hour after hour, you endured. Even the octopus could not kill you. It became clear that Umberlee wished you to survive, and since she guided me to you, it had to be so you could aid me in my mission. So, quickly as I could, I fetched the items and prepared the spells that enabled me to rescue you.”
“I’m grateful, but truly you’ve made a mistake. I have no idea how to help you. I’m no priest or philosopher or orator, to lure your truant followers back.”
“What are you, then? Tell me, and it will become apparent exactly how you are to serve.”
“There isn’t much to tell. I’m a trader. I took a ship to sell lumber and buy metals. During the voyage, I passed the time throwing dice. I was lucky two days straight, only not really so lucky after all, because a couple of sailors decided I was cheating and attacked me. One knifed me, and I fell overboard. I can only assume that no one but my ill-wishers realized what had happened because the carrack sailed on and left me.
Her black eyes bored into him. “You lie. You use magic. You fight well. You cannot belong to the Providers Caste.”
“I don’t know how it works among shalarins, but there’s nothing to stop a human merchant from learning a little sorcery or training with a blade. Sometimes it comes in handy.”
“It may be so. Still you are a liar.”
Anton was actually a highly proficient liar. Otherwise, someone would have killed him long ago. Either Tu’ala’keth was suspicious by nature, she had an enchantment in place to tell truth from falsehood, or she possessed an unexpected and inconvenient knack for reading human beings.
However she’d caught him, he had a hunch a second lie would prove no more convincing than the first. It might simply provoke a disciple of cruel Umberlee into trying to torture the truth out of him.
In other circumstances, he might have risked it, and if it came to it, resisted the torment as best he could. But what would a shalarin care about the true nature of his business or the manner in which he’d come to grief? With no stake in the affairs of the surface world, what would she do with the information? Maybe it would do no harm to confide in her.
“All right,” he said, “the fact is, I’m a spy in the service of my homeland.” He hesitated. “Do you have spies here under the sea?”
She sneered. “Of course.”
“Well, my usual chore is to ferret out information concerning pirates and smugglers, so others can catch and punish them as they deserve. But a month ago my superiors set me a new task. Have you ever heard of the Cult of the Dragon?”
“No.”
“I guess you sea folk aren’t susceptible to their particular kind of madness. Lucky you. They’re a secret society of necromancers, priests of Bane, Talos, and similar powers, and common lunatics, laboring to make a certain prophecy come to pass.”
“If the prophecy is true, it will come to pass regardless.”
“Don’t tell me, tell them. The prophecy says that one day, undead dragons will rule the world, and the cult intends to make it sooner rather than later. As near as I can make out, they believe the dracolich kings will favor them and elevate them above the common herd of humankind.
“Anyway, a couple months back, the paladins of Impiltura land on the northern shorediscovered that of late, the cultists have been more active and advanced their schemes farther than any sane person could have imagined. They’ve established a number of hidden strongholds across Faerun. The purpose of the refuges is to transform dragons into liches, and supposedly, wyrms have been flocking to them and consenting to the change as never before, because they fear losing their minds to frenzy. Evidently undead dragons are immune.
“The Rage has produced destruction and misery enoughyou shalarins seem to know all about that but it’s nothing compared to what a horde of dracoliches will do. So the Lords of Impiltur sent out the word: People in every realm need to find and destroy the cult enclaves before they can accomplish their task.”
“You were one of the seekers.”
Anton grinned. “Yes, and it was just my rotten luck that it turns out the whoresons do have a stronghold somewhere in the region. My guess is on one of the Pirate Isles. If I were pursuing a plan to topple every monarch and ruling council in the world, I’d hide out in a place without governance or law.”
“You say you guess. You did not learn for certain?”
“No. I had a lead and tried to follow up. At some point I apparently made a mistake, and some cultist tumbled to the fact that I was sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. The maniacs sent abishaiwinged demons with a dash of dragon thrown into deal with me.
“They caught up with me on a carrack sailing out of Procampur. We fought, and I got the worst of it. Finally they cornered me against the rail, and I jumped overboard. If I hadn’t, they would have torn me apart.
“The move worked, after a fashion. For whatever reason, they didn’t keep after me. But the ship didn’t come back for me either. Maybe the abishai killed all the sailors. Or perhaps the captain decided he didn’t need a passenger who lured demons down on his vessel.
“The rest you know. I drifted, and you found me.” Tu’ala’keth floated silently, pondering. Suddenly she grinned. “Of course! It is clear!” “What is?”
“This Cult of the Dragon. They must be mighty wizards with a profound knowledge of wyrms to warp their lives into undeath and leave their minds intact.”
“I suppose.”
“You will help me find them, for that is your craft. They will then tell me how to stop the dragons threatening Seros. I will do so in Umberlee’s name, and afterwards, the other shalarins will return to her altars in penance and thanksgiving.”
Anton shook his head. “You don’t understand. There’s no reason to assume the cult has what you need, and it wouldn’t matter even if they do. They worship dragons. They won’t help anybody hurt or hinder them.”
“If they won’t give up their secrets willingly, we will take them.”
He laughed. “Just you and me, you mean, against a dragon or three, a whole coven of spellcasters, and the Grandmaster only knows what else? I know you’re a reasonably powerful cleric in your own right, but that’s ridiculous.”
“You only believe so,” she said, “because your lack of faith blinds you. You look at this moment and you see only chancecoincidence. These elements are there, but they make a pattern, and the pattern conveys meaning.”
“Look: If we were to march into the cult’s fortress and announce ourselves, all it would do is alert them to the fact that people are searching for them, and that they haven’t covered their trail well enough to keep from being found. Then, after they killed us, they’d take additional precautions. That would make it all the more difficult for somebody else to locate them, descend on them in force, and wipe them out.
“And that needs to happen, for everyone’s sake. A horde of dracoliches will pose a threat to your Seros and Myth Nantar as much as the surface world.”
“What matters is the restoration of Umberlee’s worship. Everything else must fall out as it will.”
“Lady, I respectfully disagree.”
Tu’ala’keth peered at him as if honestly mystified by his intransigence. “You must help. As I explained, your life, like mine, belongs to the Queen of the Depths to spend as she sees fit. If I must punish you to convince you, I will.”
“No. You won’t. I’m leaving.” He swam toward the arch, and she centered herself in the space to bar his way.
Hoping it would persuade her to stand aside, he pulled the cutlass from its scabbard. At the moment, she had no weapon but her spells. Of course, those were formidable enough.
She sneered. “Do you truly believe a blade Umberlee put in your hand will cut a waveservant?”
“I think it might,” he said, though her apparent faith in her own invulnerability, crazy as it appeared, was
