Tika! She was near him. He pulled her close. She was gasping for air. But he could not hold onto her. The swirling water tore her from his arms and swept him under. This time he could not find the surface. His lungs were on fire, bursting. Death...rest... sweet, warm...
But always those hands! Dragging him back to the gruesome surface. Making him breathe the burning air. No, let me go!
And then other hands, rising up from the blood-red water. Firm hands, they took him down from the surface. He fell down . . . down . . . into merciful darkness. Whispered words of magic soothed him, he breathed... breathed water... and his eyes closed... the water was warm and comforting... He was a child once more.
But not complete. His twin was missing.
No! Waking was agony. Let him float in that dark dream forever. Better than the sharp, bitter pain.
But the hands tugged at him. The voice called to him.
“Caramon, I need you...”
Tika.
“I’m no cleric, but I believe he’ll be all right now. Let him sleep awhile.”
Tika brushed away her tears quickly, trying to appear strong and in control.
“What... what was wrong?” she made herself ask calmly, though she was unable to restrain a shudder. “Was he hurt when the ship. . . went into th-the whirlpool. He’s been like this for days! Ever since you found us.”
“No, I don’t think so. If he had been injured, the sea elves would have healed him. This was something within himself. Who is this ‘Raist’ he talks about?”
“His twin brother,” Tika said hesitantly.
“What happened? Did he die?”
“No—no. I—I’m not quite sure what happened. Caramon loved his brother very much and he... Raistlin betrayed him.”
“I see.” The man nodded solemnly. “It happens, up there. And you wonder why I choose to live down here.”
“You saved his life!” Tika said. “And I don’t know you . . . your name.”
“Zebulah,” the man answered, smiling. “And I didn’t save his life. He came back for love of you.”
Tika lowered her head, her red curls hid her face. “I hope so,” she whispered. “I love him so much. I would die myself, if it would save him.”
Now that she was certain Caramon would be all right, Tika focused her attention on this strange man. She saw he was middle-aged, clean-shaven, his eyes as wide and frank as his smile. Human, he was dressed in red robes. Pouches dangled from his belt.
“You’re a magic-user,” Tika said suddenly. “Like Raistlin!”
“Ah, that explains it.” Zebulah smiled. “Seeing me, in his semi-conscious state, made this young man think of his brother.”
“But what are you doing here?” Tika glanced around at her strange surroundings, seeing them for the first time.
She had seen them, of course, when the man brought her here, but she hadn’t noticed them in her worry. Now she realized she was in a chamber of a ruined, crumbling building. The air was warm and stifling. Plants grew lustily in the moist air.
There was some furniture, but it was as ancient and ruined as the room in which it was haphazardly placed. Caramon lay on a three-legged bed—the fourth corner being held up by a stack of old, moss-covered books. Thin rivulets of water, like small, glistening snakes, trickled down a stone wall that gleamed with moisture. Everything gleamed with moisture, in fact, reflecting the pale, eerie, green light that glowed from the moss growing on the wall. The moss was everywhere, of every different color and variety. Deep green, golden yellow, coral red—it climbed the walls and crawled across the domed ceiling.
“What am I doing here?” she murmured. “And where is here?”
“Here is—Well, I suppose you could say here” Zebulah answered pleasantly. “The sea elves saved you from drowning and I brought you here.”
“Sea elves? I never heard of sea elves,” Tika said, glancing around curiously, as if she might see one hiding in a closet. “And I don’t remember elves saving me. All I remember is some sort of huge, gentle fish...”
“Oh, you needn’t look around for the sea elves. You won’t see them. They fear and distrust KreeaQUEKH— ‘air-breathers’ in their language. And those fish were the sea elves, in the only shape they let KreeaQUEKH see them. Dolphins, you call them.”
Caramon stirred and moaned in his sleep. Laying her hand upon his forehead, Tika brushed back his damp hair, soothing him.
“Why did they save our lives, then?” she asked.
“Do you know any elves, land elves?” Zebulah asked.
“Yes,” Tika answered softly, thinking of Laurana.
“Then you know that to all elves, life is sacred.”
“I understand.” Tika nodded. “And like the land elves, they renounce the world rather than help it.”
“They are doing what they can to help,” Zebulah rebuked her severely. “Do not criticize what you do not understand, young woman.”
“I’m sorry,” Tika said, flushing. She changed the subject. “But you, you’re human. Why—”
“Why am I here? I have neither the time nor the inclination to relate my story to you, for it is obvious you would not understand me either. None of the others do.”
Tika caught her breath. “There are others? Have you seen any more from our ship... our friends?”
Zebulah shrugged. “There are always others down here. The ruins are vast, and many hold small pockets of air. We take those we rescue to the nearest dwellings. As for your friends, I couldn’t say. If they were on the ship with you, they were most likely lost. The sea elves have given the dead the proper rituals and sent their souls upon their way.” Zebulah stood up. “I’m glad your young man survived. There’s lots of food around Here. Most of the plants you see are edible. Wander about the ruins if you like. I’ve laid a magic spell on them so you can’t get into the sea and drown. Fix the place up. You’ll find more furniture—”
“But wait!” Tika cried. “We can’t stay here! We must return to the surface. Surely there must be some way out?”
“They all ask me that,” Zebulah said with a touch of impatience. “And, frankly, I agree. There must be some way out. People seem to find it on occasion. Then, there are those who simply decide that—like me—they don’t want to leave. I have several old friends who have been around for years. But, see for yourself. Look around. Just be careful you stay in the parts of the ruins we’ve arranged.” He turned toward the door.
“Wait! Don’t go!” Jumping up, tipping over the rickety chair she sat upon, Tika ran after the red-robed magic-user. “You might see my friends. You could tell them—”
“Oh, I doubt it,” Zebulah replied. “To tell you the truth—and no offense, young woman—I’m fed up with your conversation. The longer I live here, the more KreeaQUEKH like you irritate me. Always in a hurry. Never satisfied to stay in one place. You and your young man would be much happier down here in this world than up there in that one. But no, you’ll kill yourselves trying to find your way back. And what do you face up there? Betrayal!” He glanced back at Caramon.
“There is a war up there!” Tika cried passionately. “People are suffering. Don’t you care about that?”
“People are always suffering up there,” Zebulah said. “Nothing I can do about it. No, I don’t care. After all, where does caring get you? Where did it get him?” With an angry gesture at Caramon, Zebulah turned and left, slamming the ramshackle door behind him.
Tika stared after the man uncertainly, wondering if she shouldn’t run out and grab him and hang onto him. He was apparently their only link to the world up there. Wherever down here was...