Derek and Sturm both refused, and it appeared things might get out of hand when, ‘Land ho, off the starboard bow!’
‘Southern Ergoth,’ the captain said grimly. ‘The current’s carrying us toward the rocks.’ He glanced up at the circling dragon. ‘If a wind doesn’t come soon, we’ll smash up on them.’ At that moment, the dragon quit circling. She hovered a moment, then soared upwards. The sailors cheered, thinking she was flying away. But Laurana knew better, remembering Tarsis.
‘She’s going to dive!’ she cried. ‘She’s going to attack!’
‘Get below!’ Sturm shouted, and the sailors, after one hesitant look skyward, began to scramble for the hatches. The captain ran to the wheel.
‘Get below,’ he ordered the helmsman, taking over.
‘You can’t stay up here!’ Sturm shouted. Leaving the hatch, he ran back to the captain. ‘She’ll kill you!’
‘We’ll founder if I don’t,’ the captain cried angrily.
‘We’ll founder if you’re dead!’ Sturm said. Clenching his fist, he hit the captain in the jaw and dragged him below.
Laurana stumbled down the stairs with Gilthanas behind her. The elflord waited until Sturm brought the unconscious captain down, then he pulled the hatch cover shut.
At that moment, the dragon hit the ship with a blast that nearly sent the vessel under. The ship listed precariously. Everyone, even the most hardened sailor, lost his feet and went skidding into each other in the crowded quarters below deck. Flint rolled onto the floor with a curse.
‘Now’s the time to pray to your god,’ Derek said to Elistan.
‘I am,’ Elistan replied coolly, helping the dwarf up.
Laurana, clinging to a post, waited fearfully for the flaring orange light, the heat, the flames. Instead, there was a sudden sharp and biting cold that took her breath away and chilled her blood. She could hear, above her, rigging snap and crack, the flapping of the sails cease. Then, as she stared upwards, she saw white frost begin to sift down between the cracks in the wooden deck.
‘The white dragons don’t breathe flame!’ Laurana said in awe. ‘They breathe ice! Elistan! Your prayers were answered!’
‘Bah! It might as well be flame,’ the captain said, shaking his head and rubbing his jaw. ‘Ice’ll freeze us up solid.’
‘A dragon breathing ice!’ Tas said wistfully. ‘I wish I could see!’
‘What will happen?’ Laurana asked, as the ship slowly righted itself, creaking and groaning.
‘We’re helpless,’ the captain snarled. ‘The riggin’ll snap beneath the weight of the ice, dragging the sails down. The mast’ll break like a tree in an ice storm. With no steerage, the current will smash her upon the rocks, and that’ll be an end of her. There’s not a damn thing we can do!’
‘We could try to shoot her as she flies past,’ Gilthanas said. But Sturm shook his head, pushing on the hatch.
‘There must be a foot of ice on top of this,’ the knight reported. ‘We’re sealed in.’
This is how the dragon will get the orb, Laurana thought miserably. She’ll drive the ship aground, kill us, then recover the orb where there’s no danger of it sinking into the ocean.
‘Another blast like that will send us to the bottom,’ the captain predicted, but there was not another blast like the first. The next blast was more gentle, and all of them realized the dragon was using her breath to blow them to shore.
It was an excellent plan, and one of which Sleet was rather proud. She skimmed after the ship, letting the current and the tide carry it to shore, giving it a little puff now and then. It was only when she saw the jagged rocks sticking up out of the moonlit water that the dragon suddenly saw the flaw in her scheme. Then the moon’s light was gone, swept away by the storm clouds, and the dragon could see nothing. It was darker than her Queen’s soul.
The dragon cursed the storm clouds, so well suited to the purposes of the Dragon Highlords in the north. But the clouds worked against her as they blotted out the two moons. Sleet could hear the rending and cracking sounds of splintering wood as the ship struck the rocks. She could even hear the cries and shouts of the sailors—but she couldn’t see! Diving low over the water, she hoped to encase the miserable creatures in ice until daylight. Then she heard another, more frightening sound in the darkness—the twanging of bow strings.
An arrow whistled past her head. Another tore through the fragile membrane of her wing. Shrieking in pain, Sleet pulled up from her steep dive. There must be elves down there, she realized in a fury! More arrows zinged past her. Cursed, night-seeing elves! With their elvensight, they would find her an easy target, especially crippled in one wing.
Feeling her strength ebb, the dragon decided to return to Ice Wall. She was tired from flying all day, and the arrow wound hurt abominably. True, she would have to report another failure to the Dark Queen, but—as she came to think of it—it wasn’t such a failure after all. She had kept the dragon orb from reaching Sancrist, and she had demolished the ship. She knew the location of the orb. The Queen, with her vast network of spies on Ergoth, could easily recover it.
Mollified, the white dragon fluttered south, traveling slowly. By morning she had reached her vast glacier home. Following her report, which was moderately well-received, Sleet was able to slip into her cavern of ice and nurse her injured wing back to health.
‘She’s gone!’ said Gilthanas in astonishment.
‘Of course,’ said Derek wearily as he helped salvage what supplies they could from the wrecked ship. ‘Her vision cannot match your elfsight. Besides, you hit her once.’
‘Laurana’s shot, not mine,’ Gilthanas said, smiling at his sister, who stood on shore, her bow in her hand.
Derek sniffed doubtfully. Carefully setting down the box he carried, the knight started back out into the water. A figure looming out of the darkness stopped him.
‘No use, Derek,’ Sturm said. ‘The ship sank.’
Sturm carried Flint on his back. Seeing Sturm stagger with weariness, Laurana ran back into the water to help him. Between them, they got the dwarf to shore and stretched him on the sand. Out to sea, the sounds of cracking timber had ceased, replaced now by the endless breaking of the waves.
Then there was a splashing sound. Tasslehoff waded ashore after them, his teeth chattering, but his grin as wide as ever. He was followed by the captain, being helped by Elistan.
‘What about the bodies of my men?’ Derek demanded the moment he saw the captain. ‘Where are they?’
‘We had more important things to carry,’ Elistan said sternly. ‘Things needed for the living, such as food and weapons.’
‘Many another good man has found his final home beneath the waves. Yours won’t be the first—nor the last—I suppose, more’s the pity,’ the captain added.
Derek seemed about to speak, but the captain, grief and exhaustion in his eyes, said, ‘I’ve left six of my own men there this night, sir. Unlike yours, they were alive when we started this voyage. To say nothing of the fact that my ship and my livelihood lies down there, too. I wouldn’t consider adding anything further, if you take my meaning. Sir.’
‘I am sorry for your loss, captain,’ Derek answered stiffly. ‘And I commend you and your crew for all you tried to do.’
The captain muttered something and stood looking aimlessly around the beach, as if lost.
‘We sent your men north along the shore, captain,’ Laurana said, pointing. ‘There’s shelter there, within those trees.’
As if to verify her words, a bright light flared, the light of a huge bonfire.
‘Fools!’ Derek swore bitterly. ‘They’ll have the dragon back on us.’
‘It’s either that or catch our deaths of cold,’ the captain said bitterly over his shoulder. ‘Take your choice, sir knight. It matters little to me.’ He disappeared into the darkness.