Magadon tried to thank him but his mouth was too dry to speak.
The priest said, "No need to speak, goodsir. Rest, now. Evrel is a very old comrade of mine and it was my pleasure to do him this service." He eyed the captain sidelong. "But he must think highly of you to have roused me from my sleep."
"He saved the ship," Evrel said. "And all of us besides. I tend to think highly of such men."
Beyond Magadon's sight, several members of the crew voiced agreement.
The priest nodded, straightened his cloak, and said to Evrel, "Be well, my friend. It's back to the sheets for me. Valkur keep you and your crew."
"My thanks, Rillon. A drink soon."
"Soon," Rillon agreed.
The two clasped arms and the priest walked away.
Evrel extended a hand to Magadon and pulled him to a sitting position.
"I was afraid to move you until I had a priest at my side," the captain explained.
Magadon nodded in understanding. Crusted blood caked his face, his neck, his ears. He rubbed it off as best he could.
Several crewmen approached and offered Magadon thanks or a comradely thump on the shoulder. The guide nodded in response.
"You've allies here, now," Evrel said. "Me included. I've never seen anythin' like that. Talos take me, but I hope never to see it again."
Magadon did not know if the captain meant the kraken or Magadon's movement of the ship or both. He swallowed to moisten his throat and croaked, "My comrades? Erevis and Jak?"
Evrel's expression fell. "They never came up from the bottom."
"Yes, they did," Magadon said, and allowed the captain to pull him to his feet. His consciousness, while expanded by the Source, had felt Jak and Cale reach the surface and escape the kraken into the shadows. Cale's last words to him had been: Selgaunt, Mags.
Magadon's mental strength was limited. He still had a latent connection to Riven but otherwise had little left with which to work.
"You look . . . different," Evrel said, but Magadon ignored him. Still leaning on Evrel, he summoned a mental reserve and reached out for his friends: Erevis. Jak. Do you hear me?
* * * * *
Cale thought he heard Magadon's voice. He snapped awake and sat up. It did not repeat.
Had he dreamed it?
Mags?
Yes, Magadon answered. Yes. Erevis, I'm glad to know you're all right. Jak?
Cale grinned and reached out to shake Jak.
"Little man," he said.
Jak sat up, grinning. "I hear him."
We're glad to know that you are all right too, my friend, Cale answered. Where are you now?
Selgaunt's docks, aboard Demon Binder.
Cale and Jak shared a look of surprise.
How in the Hells did that happen? Jak asked.
Magadon hesitated, and when he replied, his mental voice sounded grim. That is a story for later. For now-
Cale answered, We're on our way.
Cale and Jak rose and sprinted through the streets toward the dock district. They stopped only long enough to throw a few fivestars at a shopkeeper in exchange for new boots and new cloaks. The sky was lightening above them. Dawn began to swallow the stars. They had slept only a few hours. Behind them, the Tower of Song rang the hour and the Sanctum of the Scroll promised doom.
Cale and Jak located Demon Binder at one of Selgaunt's piers. Gouges from troll claws marred the hull and the sails were shredded. Magadon met them at the gangplank, leaning on Captain Evrel. The guide looked drawn, as haggard as Cale had ever seen him. He was not wearing his hat and Cale saw that the small stubs of his horns had grown half a finger's length overnight.
Magadon and the Captain hailed them, smiling, as did several members of the crew.
Cale returned their greetings and he and Jak embraced Magadon, clasped Evrel's forearm in turn.
"We thought you two were dead," Evrel said.
"Damned close," Jak said.
Evrel nodded. "Damned close for all of us. The whole ship would have been lost if not for this one." He indicated Magadon.
Magadon smiled with embarrassment.
"You look different," Cale said to Magadon, as delicately as he could manage.
"The horns," Magadon said, nodding. "There have been ... other changes too," he added, but left it at that. "I don't know what it means."
"I'm certain it's fine," Cale said, but was not sure it was.
Magadon shook his head and waved dismissively. "Forget all that. Listen to me. When the Source awakened fully, it called out to someone or something, called out across Faerun. I am concerned, Erevis. The Source is an item-a consciousness-of great power."
Cale and Jak shared a look. Evrel pretended not to hear.
"To whom did it call?" Cale asked.
Evrel cleared his throat. "I'll be leaving you to your business, then." He nodded to them and strolled up the gangplank.
"I don't know," Magadon said. "It called out in . . . Netherese."
"Netherese?" Not even Cale spoke that ancient tongue.
Magadon nodded.
Jak looked from Magadon to Cale and said, "Do you remember what Sephris said? That we would summon the storm?"
Cale nodded. He remembered the loremaster's parting words to him-Sakkors is only the beginning. His skin went gooseflesh. He tried to put it out of his mind.
"I remember. And I hear your words," he said to Magadon. "But first things first. We stop the slaadi, we stop the Sojourner, and we deal with what comes after when it comes. Agreed?"
Magadon looked him in the eye, nodded. Jak too.
Cale said, "Do you still have the link with Riven?"
"I do," Magadon answered. "A latent link. But no strength to activate it, and no strength to project the image into your mind. Took almost all I had to contact you two."
"How long before you are ready?" Cale asked.
"An hour," Magadon answered. "Maybe two. I can recover some strength by then."
Cale nodded. They would wait aboard Demon Binder. They had no choice.
"Let's go aboard," he said. "Get you some food and rest."
Together, the three comrades climbed the gangplank and boarded Demon Binder.
Jak said, "And someone on this tub damned well better have a tindertwig."
CHAPTER 15
WAYROCK
Riven, Azriim, and Dolgan aimlessly walked Selgaunt's streets as the false dawn lightened the sky. By accident, they had ventured near Riven's garret. He found himself scanning the streets and alleys for any sign of his girls, at the same time hoping and not hoping that he would catch a glimpse of them.
"What are you looking for?" Dolgan asked.
Riven chided himself for his carelessness. "Nothing. Mind your own affairs, slaad."
Dolgan grunted, Azriim grinned, and the three walked on. The street traffic was beginning to build as dawn approached. Shop doors and shutters opened. Farmers and their wagons entered the city and made their way to market. Sellers of sweetmeats and stale bread took their favored spots on the street. Riven gave a fat, already sweating sweetmeat seller his first sale of the day, purchasing two candied pears. He ate both without offering any to the slaadi.
"Where are all the clothiers?" Azriim said. "I am dressed like a pauper."
Riven knew several booths that sold clothing but did not mention any to the slaad.
Dawn broke and they walked on, awaiting word from the Sojourner.
Within a quarter hour, Riven noticed concern among the pedestrians. Eyes were wide; brows furrowed; strides were a step too fast. The rustle turned to an alarmed murmur.
"What is going on?" he said, more to himself than to the slaadi.
"What?" Dolgan asked.
A young laborer pelted down the street in their direction.