A deep rumbling echoed beneath them. Awestruck, Icelin watched the sand roil, parting on either side of the mermaid's body. Contained by magic, the tempest of sand and water swirled around the mermaid and revealed her glossy silver tail. Beneath the webbed fin, a dark space yawned.
Lit by spheres of magical radiance, the narrow passage led into the hull of what looked like an ancient sailing ship. The wood around the animated figurehead was rotting and caked with barnacles, but somehow it remained intact.
Ruen swam for the passage; Icelin and Sull followed quickly. Icelin's chest ached to draw breath, and as she swam down the dark tunnel, she realized what Ruen meant about not turning back.
The sand was already swirling behind them, sealing off the entrance. The mermaid resumed her frozen pose, her sighdess eyes betraying nothing of what lay beneath her fin. There was no way out behind them. It was death or forward.
CHAPTER 10
Cerest paced in front of the burned-out shell of the dockside warehouse. He stopped long enough to kick a smoking timber against the tin wall. A rattling crash brought down a rain of ash and smoke.
Ristlara and Shenan stood a little way off, looking anxious and unamused by his outburst.
"Come away, fool," Ristlara said. "The Watch is sure to bring a patrol. We won't be seen here with you."
"Tell your men to regroup. I want to know how many we lost." Cerest already knew Greyas was gone. Greyas, Melias, and Riatvin. Now he was entirely dependent upon the Locks and their hunters. The idea galled him, but what choice did he have?
"She walks with two companions now," Ristlara said. "The big one is an oaf, but he's strong; and I'll lay odds the thin one is a monk, and quite powerful. Think, Cerest," she said, putting a hand on his arm. "How can you be certain she possesses the powers Elgreth did? Shenan says she is an untried child."
"Can Shenan deny the evidence of her eyes?" Cerest waved an arm to encompass the devastated warehouse. "My untried child did this. The men may have slain Greyas and the rest, but she brought the building down. You heard her, Shenan; it wasn't her first display of such power. She is more than Elgreth ever was. While she is alive, I will have her."
Ristlara and Shenan exchanged doubtful glances. It infuriated Cerest. How dare they show such disrespect?
"Where do we search now?" Shenan spoke up. "The trail is cold."
"They can't go far," Cerest said. "If she is as unstable as I believe, she'll turn up again. Until then, we wait."
Cerest rubbed his face. He needed to rest. If his own body sought reverie, Icelin would be near exhaustion.
We'll both rest, Cerest thought, and tonight-yes, it would be tonight-we'll talk again. He would help her work through the trauma of the past. She had been scarred too-not physically, but the pain was there, a raw wound that only another, equally scarred being would understand. Those scars would be the link that bound them together. They would make each other whole.
"Cough it out, there's a good girl."
Sull smacked her on the back, forcing up more of the loathsome harbor water than Icelin thought possible for anyone to swallow.
She crouched on the floor of the lowest deck of The Darter; Sull and Ruen stood on either side of her. Behind them, a wall of water stretched weirdly from floor to ceiling, kept from rushing into the cabin by an invisible magical field that faltered and sprayed jets of water at random intervals.
In front of them, a trio of large, armored guards stood with drawn swords, the unfriendly ends pointed at each of their throats. The one pointed at Icelin bobbed uncertainly as she threw up around it. Icelin tried to appear as contrite as she could, under the circumstances.
"Where are we?" she asked when she could speak again.
"I told you: this is the back door," Ruen explained. "They'll check our weapons here." As he said it, the guards stepped forward, divesting Sull of his sash of butcher's tools. They took nothing from Ruen but the ring on his finger. Icelin saw his jaw tighten, but he said nothing.
Icelin allowed them to take the pack off her back without resistance. She saw one guards eye linger on the gold box buried at the bottom.
"What's in it?" he asked.
"An heirloom," Icelin said, "bequeathed to me by the last of my family."
"Open it," the guard said.
Icelin looked at Sull uncertainly. He knew what she was thinking. She'd not yet opened the mysterious box, found buried beneath the floorboards of Brant's shop. Who knew what it might contain?
"Arowall s rules state that no one may lose their possessions while under the protection of his hospitality," Ruen said. Icelin wondered whether his words were for her benefit, or the guard's.
The man glared at Ruen and spat on the deck. "I know the rules better 'an you, Ruen Morleth." He looked at Icelin. "I said open it, girl."
Icelin took out the box and laid it in her lap. She ran her fingers along the edges until she found the clasp. Thank the gods it wasn't locked. Releasing the catch, she lifted the lid.
Red velvet lined the inside of the box, but it was frayed and soaking wet from their swim. Nestled in the small space was a stack of folded parchment sheets, tied together with a black ribbon. The parchment and the ribbon were dry and perfecdy preserved, obviously via some magical means. "Icelin" was inked on the top sheet.
"They look like letters," she said. She traced her name and felt a stab of disappointment. She had hoped Brant's words would be on the pages, but she didn't recognize the thick, black script proclaiming her name so boldly.
"Some heirloom." The guard sniffed. His fellows chuckled.
Icelin clutched the letters and tried not to let her anger show. It would be foolish to provoke these men.
Ruen laid a hand on the closest guard's arm. Immediately, the other two raised their swords.
"Step back," the largest of them warned.
"My apologies," Ruen said. He smiled easily and removed his hand. "I couldn't help but notice how cold your friend's skin is."
The guard he'd touched paled. Reading the mocking light in Ruen's eyes, he gripped his sword as if he might strike out at the thief.
"Get on with you," he said, his teeth gritted. "Though if it were up to me, I'd stick your head through that wall and let you breathe seawater."
Icelin quickly sealed the box and stood up. She wished she could read whatever was in the letters, but this was not the place. Palpable tension thickened the air. She had no idea what Ruen had done to offend the guards, but they stared at him now with murder in their eyes.
"You know the way," the guard said, still eyeing Ruen hatefully. "He's expecting you."
"You know this Arowall fellow?" Sull asked when they were past the guards. "I hope he likes you better than that lot."
"Arowall was captain of The Darter? Ruen said, "a pirate vessel for twenty years. When his ship finally went down, he'd strung it with so many magics salvaged from old cargo that the ship stayed intact. It drifted into the harbor and stayed here, resistant to water and, mostly, to time."
"What is The Darters purpose now?" Icelin said.
"Without a ship, Arowall had to turn his hand to another profession," Ruen said, running his hand along the wall.
"The Cradle?" Sull said, echoing the mermaid's words. "Sounds awfully harmless for a pirate."
"Not exactly," Ruen said. He pointed ahead, where another pair of guards flanked a door at the opposite end of the ship. "Fighting was Arowall's second favorite activity, so he created a shrine to the sport. He died years ago, but his descendents- one of them is the man we're going to see, he goes by Arowall too-have been keeping up the business, and they turned The Darter into a secret passage to their domain."
The guards opened the portal and Ruen ushered them through.