Tailonna stood up. 'The saber cut must have given the small amount of sea hag poison that was still in his blood the opportunity to grow stronger," she said, frowning.
"Will this happen every time Fritzen is injured?" asked Lendle.
"Just until his body has completely purged itself of the poison, but sea hag toxin is very potent. Many moons will cross the sky before that cleansing is complete. How did he receive the sea hag wound to begin with?" Tailonna inquired as she turned once again to the medicine case and began picking up various packets and vials. "I know of no survivors from sea hag encounters. My people stay away from waters where hags are reputed to dwell. We believe there is no need to present the vile creatures with victims."
Lendle told her briefly about the attack on the Torado during the race. "I thought Fritzen was injured on the coral when the hippocampi rescued him," he explained, "but that would not cause this infection. He was the only one of the Torado's crew to make it to the Perechon."
"Ah, that explains the suffering I saw in his eyes just now, something that is more than bodily pain," Tailonna said. Lendle nodded. "This only survivor carries many wounds with him."
After considering the medicines before her for a moment more, Tailonna turned to the gnome. "There is something else that would help him, something I don't see here."
"Where can we get it?" Lendle asked. "I don't think Maquesta will permit a return to Sea Reach."
"It's not in Sea Reach, but a much greater distance away. Here, come with me," Tailonna said abruptly. "I may need some help getting off the ship."
Lendle followed Tailonna willingly, fascinated to see what she intended. The sea elf stepped through the armory door, out onto the main deck where she walked over to one of the side railings. Standing facing the sea, Tailonna took off the nets and seashells that held her lengthy hair. She handed these to the gnome, who eyed them with awe. He fingered the nets gingerly, remembering the magic they'd released during the imp attack.
Next, she closed her eyes and extended her arms out to her sides, holding her hands with the palms facing upward, thumb and middle finger touching. Tilting her head back, she chanted a few words that sounded vaguely musical. Standing behind her, Lendle watched as the outline of the sea elf maiden's body softened into a wispy haze of pale blue-green, then it seemed to dissolve into the surrounding air. After a minute, her entire body had taken on an amorphous quality, becoming almost translucent. Then it started shimmering and pulsing with energy, and the gnome felt goose bumps race up and down his arms. The very air seemed charged. Once the substance of Tailonna's body had separated into particles suspended in the sea air, that suspension collapsed in on itself, becoming a concentrated mass that spun gently just above the deck's surface and darkened to a deep blue, then turned earth brown. In another minute, that mass elongated and took on concrete form once more, as a sleek, silverbrown sea otter. The creature rose on its haunches and placed its front paws on the deck railing so that its muscular body was almost as tall as Lendle. The animal glanced out to sea and cocked its head inquisitively to the side. Then the otter glanced over its shoulder at the gnome, its eyes a shimmering bluegreen that held Lendle spellbound. The otter chittered animatedly, nudged Lendle with its cold, wet nose, then looked out to sea again.
Lendle shook his head as if to clear it, then carefully set the hairnets and seashells on the polished deck. "OhyesIwillhelpyouTailonnatheotter," he gibbered. He lifted the otter's hindquarters, helping it slip over the side of the Perechon, into the waters below. Lendle watched with wide eyes as the animal rolled on its back and seemed to wave one of its forepaws at him. Then it turned on its stomach and swam off. Lendle gazed out over the gentle swells until the otter's small head was no longer visible. Then he looked around him on the main deck. Of the few sailors out tending to their duties, nobody else, it seemed, had seen Tailonna shapechange. Feeling privileged that the sea elf had shared something special with him, he bent over and scooped up her nets and shells. Then, jumping up and down with excitement, Lendle ran off to look for Maquesta.
Maq found the minotaur Koraf on the lower deck, checking and oiling the oarlocks. She stood by the foot of the stairs that led to the upper deck, waiting for him to notice her and considering exactly what she would say.
"Did you wish to speak with me?" Koraf asked, not looking up from his work.
"Yes, I need your help, Kof," Maq said. "Please, take a moment…"
The minotaur appreciated her honesty and, with the arrogance typical of his race, appreciated being asked for help. He put down his oil can and faced Maq.
She approached him and sat down on one of the rowing benches. She patted the bench next to her and, after a few moments of silence, the minotaur obliged, lowering his heavy frame onto the wood.
"Do you know a pirate named Mandracore?" she asked.
"Mandracore the Reaver? A half-ogre?"
Maq nodded.
"I know him all right." Koraf snorted. "He wants people to know him. He has a very high opinion of himself, that one does." The minotaur shook his bull-like head and ran his thumb around the outside of the oil can. "His ship, the Butcher, is often moored in Horned Bay. It's a good ship. Too good for the likes of him."
"Do you know what he does in Lacynos? Who he sees?" Maq asked eagerly.
Koraf snorted again and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't waste my time keeping track of braggart halfogres. Why do you care?"
Maq related the essentials of her encounter with Mandracore on Sea Reach, including the fact that he bore a grudge against her father and seemed to have knowledge of their current voyage. Koraf thought a minute, absentmindedly fingering his waist sash. It was obvious he was uncomfortable talking about his experiences.
"Months ago, before I was imprisoned, I saw him down at the shipyard with Chot Es-Kalin. They were alone and had their heads together about something. I have no idea what," Koraf recalled. "But I thought it odd that Chot Es-Kalin, more wealthy and powerful even than Attat, would openly consort with someone like the Reaver. Some minotaurs believe that socializing with humans or other races lowers their station."
"But that was only once, months ago?" Maq pressed him.
"Yes, but I would have had no opportunity to see Chot since my imprisonment at Attat's. Chot and Attat are fierce rivals," Koraf pointed out. "Attat intends to surpass Chot in wealth and become the ruler of Lacynos. Attat might succeed if Chot is not careful. But Attat must be careful, too, of his tactics."
Maq nodded, remembering what Attat had said about the reason he wanted the morkoth for his menagerie. "The morkoth could help him," she said softly.
"On that count, Attat is deluded," Koraf volunteered.
"What do you mean?" asked Maq.
"Attat seeks to consolidate power by displaying his possessions. By capturing and dominating a collection of monsters, he thinks he is creating an impression, demonstrating his superiority," Koraf explained. "Chot seeks to consolidate power by using it. His method is more effective-at least for the time being."
"Then why does Chot care what Attat does? Why does the rivalry flow both ways?"
"Attat is like a thorn in Chot's side, an annoyance that by its constancy has taken on a greater significance," Koraf said. "He would like to humiliate Attat, and by humiliating him, destroy him. Where Chot could fail is if his attempts to humiliate Attat are unsuccessful. Then the humiliated one will be Chot, who could lose some of his influence."
Thinking about what he had said, Maq studied the minotaur before her. He displayed an acuity she didn't expect from members of his race. She was glad she had trusted him.