Mik nodded. “You may soon get your wish.”
For a day and a half they traveled east. They’d passed beyond all sight of land now, though they were still within the protective influence of the Veil.
“Look at the storm,” Jerick said, pointing east to a towering bank of thunderheads. “That’s where the Veil ends.”
Mik squinted into the black clouds. “I see the island,” he said. “It’s almost the same color as the clouds.” He pointed, and Jerick followed with his eyes.
“Aye,” he said, a faint smile cracking his red beard. “Can’t say I like the look of the place.”
“You’ll like the look of its treasure, though,” Mik replied.
“Aye.”
By mid-afternoon they’d drawn close to the island’s rocky shores. The Isle of Fire was a volcanic peak jutting nearly straight up out of the surging sea. Its almost sheer sides were black, craggy, and unforgiving. Only at the very bottom did a few sparse copses of vegetation cling to its meager shore. The eastern side of the mountain had fallen away, leaving a large V-shaped gully in the side of the escarpment. A faint red glow emanated from within the crack, making the island look as though it peered toward the sunrise with an eerie red eye. Within the volcano, the immense fires that had helped forge the the Veil still burned bright.
“Where is this supposed lost temple?” Kell asked skeptically.
“It’s hidden,” Mik replied. “It’s been hidden for centuries.”
“If it wasn’t,” Ula said, “someone would have taken the treasure long ago.”
“The water is very deep here,” Jerick said. “More than fifty fathoms. Are you sure diving is the right way to proceed?”
“The final hallowed key, Illumes the deepest night, At lord of fire and sea, Seek pillars’ sacred might,” said Karista.
“The Prophecy, and the visions I’ve had, make me think we’re looking for a temple under the sea,” Mik said.
“Sacred pillars in the deep,” Trip added smartly.
Jerick rubbed one callused hand across his balding red pate. “Well, it’s your necks,” he said. “I’ll set anchor and keep an eye on things.” He shouted for his men to do so, and both his and Kell’s ship anchored well clear of the island’s dangerous shores.
“I’ll summon my divers,” Kell said. He moved to the rail and whistled a signal to his brass-armored ship. A dozen warriors appeared in shell-like helmets and diving gear.
“Oh, no,” Mik said. “You’re not going to outnumber us down there. Pick just three other divers besides yourself, Lord Kell.”
Kell gazed into Mik’s brown eyes; Mik didn’t blink.
“Very well,” Kell said slowly. “Will you be coming, milady?”
Karista Meinor nodded. “If you will loan me a helmet,” she said. “I’ve not been able to replenish my supply of magical seaweed.”
“And it tasted terrible anyway,” Trip put in.
“Are you up for it, Shim?” Ula asked.
The bronze knight stood and slowly stretched. He’d removed his bandages, but his shoulder didn’t seem quite healed.
Mik worried about the dragon-man’s usefulness in a fight, but said only, “Everyone, prepare yourselves. We’ll meet at the rail in twenty minutes.”
Kell nodded and signaled for a longboat to ferry his equipment and two divers over to Red Wake.
Mik put on his enchanted fish necklace. He hadn’t worn it since they’d left Aurialastican. His fingers traced the empty pockmarks where there had once been jeweled scales. The magic felt weak and tentative. He hoped it would be enough to complete at least one final task.
“You’re sure this cloak of yours works, Trip?” he asked.
“Better than your feeble old necklace,” the kender replied, pulling the serpent skin tight around his small body. “I’ll swim circles around the rest of you.”
Kell, Karista, and two brass-garbed warriors joined them at the rail. They all wore uncomfortable-looking brass helmets in the shape of sea huge seashells with clear quartz faceplates. The strange helmets complimented the design of the warriors’ sparse brass armor. Karista just wore the helmet and a brief swimming outfit, but looked uncomfortable, nonetheless.
“Very nice,” Ula said. “Can you actually hear or speak in those things?”
“Well enough,” Kell replied, his voice sounding metallic and distant. “Thrakdar himself helped forge them; their magic is strong. Do not worry on our account.”
Mik nodded. “Then down, down to the briny deep, where sharks hold court and sailors sleep,” he said, reciting an old diver’s saying.
He was the first to step to the rail and plunge over the side.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Mog watched as a large contingent of surface creatures dropped down into his domain.
First came the young ship captain, followed by the kender, then the sea elf, a bronze knight and a brass one. Then these were followed by a helmeted woman and two more brass-garbed swimmers.
The dragonspawn hid himself behind the keel of the galleon, lest they detect his presence. A tingling in his spine told him that other agents of Tempest lurked nearby. Soon, he would have need of them. Soon they would wrest the treasure from these pale, fleshy creatures and open the Veil for their mistress.
Then Glorious Tempest would invade the Dragon Isles, and Mog and his kin would feast on the flesh of humans and elves.
As the divers moved away from the ship and sank into the deep, Mog left his hiding place and followed-cautious to remain out of sight.
Mik led the treasure hunters into the depths. The sea water quickly faded from clear as glass, to blue, indigo, and then black. Mik and Trip’s magic-assisted eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom. The water-born senses of Ula and Shimmer needed no such aid.
Nor did the fish living in the dark waters. Many sported huge eyes to navigate and find their prey. Others had grown their own lights, for purposes of mating or communication. The black waters twinkled with their presence-a starry sky within the ocean deep. A barrelmouth shark swept past; it looked fierce, with jaws wide enough to swallow a man, but Mik knew it was harmless. Barrelmouths had no teeth and fed only on tiny shrimp.
Without warning, light burst around them. Mik blinked and whirled, his scimitar in his hand. It was only Kell and his warriors, though. Small gems set atop their brass helmets shone with bright white light.
“Put those bloody things out!” Ula hissed. “Do you want everything down here to know we’re coming?”
“Dim them,” Mik added. “There isn’t anything to see here anyway. What we want is on the bottom-the deepest night-and that’s still a long way down.”
Kell ordered his warriors to turn off their lights and did the same himself. They left Karista’s light on but dimmed it to a dull red glow. The aristocrat sweated uncomfortably within her metal helmet, even though the artifact’s powerful magic protected her from the cold and pressure of the deep.
Several times, the brass warriors spun to face something flashing through the water, only to discover it was merely Trip in his sea serpent cloak. The kender swam rings around the rest of them, like a playful dolphin.
“I’ll admit,” Ula whispered to Mik, “that cloak is impressive.”
They snaked down ever farther into the deep. The blackness closed in around them as the luminous sea life grew progressively less numerous.
“Is anyone else cold?” Karista asked, her teeth chattering. “I feel strangely cold.”
One of Kell’s warriors took a moment to adjust the position of a dial which controlled the spell on the aristocrat’s helmet. “Thank you,” Karista said. “That’s much better.”
Mog knew his time had almost come. The small Turbidus leech attached to his spine wriggled and burned as the dragonspawn sent out his telepathic call.