Thoster's brow furrowed in thought.
"Seren," said Raidon as he watched the crew attend to the needs of the ship and the wounded.
"Yes?"
"Now that the gleamtails are here, how do we proceed?" His eyes, black as the depths of the sea, turned their regard on her.
She wasn't ready to move on. "And where were you when I finished my ritual? You're the reason we're putting ourselves at such risk."
Raidon replied, "You're right, Seren. Please forgive me. My thoughts were elsewhere. I hope my lapse didn't cause you any lasting harm." He didn't look away as he spoke.
Seren had expected some sort of excuse or defense. She was put off by the simple apology. This one saw the world differently than most, that was certain. She wasn't sure she liked it. Maybe he thought his example would move her to apologize for not disclosing her time with the Red Wizards.
"Well," broke in Thoster, "I wasn't on deck because I have a ship to run. I guess I figured your warning was more for form than anything else. From now on, Seren, if you say jump, I'll ask how high."
Seren felt her mouth quirk toward a smile. The captain had that effect on her sometimes. Her defensive anger began to drain.
The captain continued, "What say we give this expedition a day before we start? I could—"
Raidon said, "Thoster, time is precious. We must find Xxiphu. We must quell what is likely waking even as we speak."
The sword on Raidon's back shifted, giving voice to a low, whispery tone, as if agreeing with its master.
The captain's grin dissolved.
"Xxiphu won't wait for us," said the monk.
Thoster raised one hand in a placatory gesture. His other still held the rents of his clawed garments closed.
"Hold on! I ain't backing out. I just want to give everyone a chance to be at their best. Me especially."
Raidon said, "Now is the time. We should begin our journey down." He nodded up at the gleamtails swarming around the ship's periphery. "Are we ready?"
Seren took a deep breath. Though the slaads' attack had rattled her, they hadn't disrupted the ritual. The gleamtails were present and keyed to Green Siren. Thanks to her.
She nodded. "Yes, we're ready. The magic is set. It should last a tenday at minimum. And you're right—the sooner we start, the longer the trip we can make. It wouldn't do for the school to break up while we're still below. The ship and all aboard would be crushed to flinders quicker than it takes to describe."
Raidon said, "That's a risk I am willing to take."
Thoster made a choking sound. Seren frowned.
She wondered if the half-elf had a death wish. Being crushed was not a risk she was willing to take. Which was why she'd modified the ritual even more than she'd described to Raidon. If the gleamtail jack school broke up prematurely, Seren had the option of bodily returning with them to the Chaos. Not the safest escape hatch, but far superior to staying behind in a ship suddenly unprotected from the weight of a continent.
She cleared her throat and motioned to Raidon. "Stand here in the center of the circle, where I've marked. This is the focus of the ritual. From here you can direct the school."
"Anyone can command the gleamtails?" wondered Thoster.
She swept her hand to include herself, Raidon, and the captain and said, "I've crafted the rite so any one of us can control the route the school swims, so long as we stand in the circle. It's as simple as thinking of a direction.
The school should respond "
The monk looked to Captain Thoster. "Are you ready?"
The captain stroked his chin a moment but nodded. He said, "We were ready to depart before. Same holds true now, despite that we lost a few good crew."
Raidon entered the circle scribed on the deck. His brow creased. The gleaming creatures surrounding Green Siren startled, but remained in the spherical pattern around the ship. The monk's head dipped.
The deck creaked. Some of the crew cried out as the Sea of Fallen Stars sucked the ship beneath the waves.
Water swirled up around the schooling gleamtail jacks, pressing its damp weight against the swirling, silvery forms that somehow sealed out the sea. Watery light replaced the sun, painting sails, wood, cloth, and flesh all the same shade of bottle green.
"It works," breathed Thoster. He grinned. "Imagine what I could do with these fish, coming up on an Amnian merchantman from below! I'd be the terror of the Inner Sea!"
Seren ignored the captain and watched Raidon.
The half-elf pressed an open palm on his chest, on his glimmering tattoo. The lines of the stylized tree burst into a heatless blue flame. She took a measured pace back. The color was the hue that still visited her in nightmares. The Year of Blue Fire yet scarred the dreams of every wizard who lived through it, even those who lost only their magic. She took a second step away. Seren decided putting even more distance between herself and the fiery display wasn't unreasonable.
But the color wasn't quite the same blue throughout. At the flame's core burned a fiercer, more empyreal hue.
She supposed this was the power of the Cerulean Sign the monk spoke about so reverently.
The light slanting through the water above dimmed further. They were still descending, so smoothly Seren could scarcely detect the movement in the soles of her sandals. She walked to the railing and leaned out, trying to perceive where the protective field of air ended and the water began.
The boundary was smooth enough, but full of ripples, like the surface of a lake stocked with jumping trout.
Skating just above the water, the gleamtails swirled and sparkled, beholden to the edicts of her ritual. She studied the fish and their patterns, looking for any sign of weakness in the binding magic. She'd told the monk the protective shroud of gleamtails would last about a tenday. She was pretty sure that was true, give or take a day or two.
She heard Raidon speak, his voice strangely hollow. "I can sense the direction of Xxiphu. Its taint is strong, even though it lies buried miles below water and earth."
Seren saw shadows had grown and pooled across the deck. It was noticeably cooler too. But Raidon's Sign burned torch bright, illuminating his features from below.
Fearful faces of loitering crew were shades just on the edge of visibility.
The captain bawled, "Get back to your duties, you lazy dogs! And light the lamps! It'll be full dark soon enough, and you stand like savages around a fire while the cold dark claims Green Siren. Now, mover."
The crew dispersed into the work. The captain moved closer to Raidon. In the inconstant light of the monk's burning scar, Seren saw the captain had relaxed his death grip on his rent clothing. She saw his chest and stomach. In the strange light it almost seemed, just for a moment, that green and yellow scales covered the man in rough patches like some sort of odd piscine leprosy. Seren blinked away the odd hallucination and returned her attention to the gleamtails.
*****
Raidon held his place in the circle. The planking trembled with the energy of the wizard's ritual, communicating its presence by touch. The circle's influence flowed from the deck into him, tingling at first, but leaving in its wake a feeling of... something larger than himself. While his body stood in the circle, he sensed a newly forged link to a second body, a phantom form whose shape was that of a great sphere. A sphere whose surface was forged by schooling creatures plucked from the Elemental Chaos.
With hardly more effort or forethought than it took to move his own limbs, he propelled the sphere down through the darkening waters. And Green Siren plunged farther and farther into the cold depths of the sea.