"What did you give him? And just what will it do?"
Tailonna was busy cutting up pieces of seaweed, soaking them in urchin blood. It was obvious she was going to use all the utensils Maq brought her. "A potion my father taught me to make," she said simply. "It has incredibly strong curative powers. There's a bit of magic about it." The sea elf reached past Maq and selected a couple of the odd-shaped oysters. Prying one open, she pulled out the meat and added it to her mixture, then stirred in some algae. "I'll need a cloth."
Fuming, Maq stomped to a cabinet. Finding no cloths or towels, and realizing the towel she had used on Lendle was the only one in the armory, she took off the sash from around her waist and passed it to the sea elf. "Will this do?"
"I suppose," the elf answered, taking it from her and soaking it in the pungent liquid. Rising, she glided to the half-ogre, sat at his side, and proceeded to wrap the sash around his arm and shoulder. "This will draw out the sea hag poison," she explained. "It should work rather quickly, especially since he has merrow blood in his veins. It is odd that though he is a half-ogre, he looks so human and is so handsome. Merrows are typically an ugly lot. Fritzen was fortunate he inherited none of the merrows' facial features, only their size and strength."
"Does this poultice have a touch of magic, too?" Maquesta asked curtly.
"Of course." The elf went back to her bench and resumed her work.
"Now what are you doing?" Maquesta's tone was demanding, her impatience coming to the fore.
"I want to make an additional healing potion for Fritzen, and I intend to create a stimulant for Lendle. I suppose while I am at it, I should make as many healing potions as possible. You do seem to need them around here." The sea elf turned away from the bench, and her blue-green eyes caught Maq's gaze. "I do know what I am doing, Maquesta. My skills are considerable, and my potions will save them. But I could use some help… if you don't mind."
Ilyatha, whether sensing Maquesta's irritation or genuinely wanting to aid the sea elf, rose from his chair and moved to the bench. "Let me," he offered. "Maquesta has many other things to do on this ship, and many other pressing concerns."
"I have dead to bury," Maq said. Turning, she left the armory, fervently praying that Tailonna's skills and mixtures would be enough to help two people she cared deeply about.
Dawn came to the sea, the sun rising and coloring the water and tinting the sky a rosy pink. With it came sailors to the deck of the Perechon. Koraf took the wheel, and Vartan and Hvel busied themselves with trimming the sails. When enough of the men were gathered, Maquesta walked over to the bodies and pulled the tarp back from their faces. The crew gathered around.
She was nervous, but she tried not to show it. She'd watched her father give final words over sailors before, though never this many bodies at the same time. Now the task was hers.
Facing the rising sun, she ran her fingers absently through her curls, composed herself, then turned to face her crew. She slowly recited the names of the dead men. "These sailors gave their lives for yours, for the Perechon, and for the hope of returning Melas to us. They paid the highest price a sailor could, and we stand here honoring them for their acts of courage." Her voice was strong, and she noticed all eyes were on her. "May Habbakuk, god of the sea and of eternal life beyond the world, watch over them as their spirits embark on a new journey. Now we give our friends and comrades to the water. Let the sea embrace those who loved her dearly."
Koraf blew into a steel whistle, low then high, sharp tunes signaling the end of the brief service. Maquesta padded away from the rails, and the crew set about the business of sending their dead comrades overboard. She heard the splashes behind her as she walked toward her cabin, intent on putting the final touches on her plan to capture the morkoth, and flinched at the finality of the sound.
An hour later a persistent rapping at the door roused Maquesta from her notes. Before she could invite the person inside, the door opened wide, and Tailonna strode in. Her hair was once again artfully wrapped about her head with the small magical nets and decorative seashells in place.
"Where were you?" Maq sputtered. "We needed you."
"I was in the armory, you know that. I was tending to Fritzen and Lendle. I saved them."
"That's not what I mean," Maquesta continued, fuming. "Where did you disappear to for better than a day? You didn't even ask my permission to leave."
"I don't need anyone's permission-" Tailonna began.
"No?" Maq pressed. "I'm the captain of the Perechon, a fact you seem to constantly overlook. Captains give the orders on their ships. It's that simple. And while you're on my ship, you're part of my crew. You follow my orders. Understand?"
Tailonna drew herself up to her full height and regarded Maq coolly. "I was obtaining the necessary herbs to help Fritzen. Fortunately, they are also helping Lendle."
"Where did you have to go for them?" Maq snapped. "Back to Lacynos? If you don't want to be a part of this, Tailonna, you're free to go. Though I would appreciate it if you first made us those potions that will let us breathe water." Maq rose. Hands on her hips, chin raised aggressively, she confronted the sea elf. "I don't think I've ever understood why you agreed to help in the first place. But if you stay with us, remember that you're under my command, and you don't leave again unless you've discussed it with me first!"
The sea elf's eyes darkened, and she returned Maquesta's icy stare. "I am going back to the armory. There, my talents are appreciated. When you can pull yourself away from your plans, feel free to visit us-but only briefly. My patients need rest and quiet." Like a dancer, the sea elf pivoted on the balls of her bare feet and glided out of the cabin.
It was clear to Maquesta that Tailonna didn't enjoy being reprimanded. "Well, I don't like being treated with disrespect," Maq muttered to herself. She glanced at her papers and decided to work on her plans only a little while longer and then go check on her friends. She wanted to see if Tailonna's magical healing could work the wonders the elf claimed.
Tailonna stormed into the armory, angry about being spoken to by Maquesta in such a rude manner.
"Well hello, fair lady," Fritzen offered as a greeting. The half-ogre was sitting up on his cot, his legs crossed under him and a blanket wrapped around his broad shoulders. "I understand from Ilyatha that I have you to thank for my improved state of health."
Tailonna's expression softened at seeing Fritzen. A hint of a blush crept to her face, and she sneaked a glance at the telepath. Ilyatha was hovering over Lendle, seemingly oblivious to her. Smiling, Tailonna glided toward the half-ogre and sat next to him. The sea elf was angry at Maquesta, and a little angry at herself as well, for being attracted to this surface dweller whom she considered a half-breed.
"You're strong," she stated. "I did not think my healing poultice would work so quickly."
"I'm not one to stay down long," he replied. "Bed rest is boring, and I've always believed one mends better by being up and moving around."
"Be careful not to overdo it," she admonished. "The sea hag toxin will be in your blood for quite some time, and any further injuries you suffer could give it a chance to take hold again." Tailonna brought her hand up to his forehead. "You're still a little warm, but there is not much fever left." She let her hand linger there, amused that she found herself captivated by the handsome half-ogre.
Tailonna, Lendle's waking up!
The sea elf heard the words inside her head. Ilyatha's urgings drew her away from Fritzen and over to the gnome's cot. Lendle's eyelids were quivering, and his head rolled slowly back and forth. At last, he opened his eyes and stared up at the shadowperson and sea elf.