"I don't suppose you know where the remains of this Naarkolyth are, do you?" he asked.
Serille adopted a serious mien. "As a matter of fact, I do," she said. "But it is well hidden, hard to reach, and in dangerous waters."
"Perfect," Vambran said. "Just what I wanted to hear. What do we need to do now?"
"We are prepared to guide you to the remains of the city," the sea elf answered. "And a few among us are willing to accompany you into its depths. We have gathered provisions for this trip, and by Deep Sashelas's will, we will find your magic and help you save your people."
Vambran nodded his head. "Then let's get going," he said, "the plague is undoubtedly spreading above. And you can tell me more of this history along the way."
Serille smiled and nodded.
Along with Arbeenok, Vambran, and Serille, ten more sea elves began the journey to Naarkolyth. Serille led them out of the cave and into the depths of the Reach. They traveled along the slope of the continental shelf, rather than descending deeper into the water, for the elves had explained that they would encounter fewer enemies at a shallower depth, and they would wait until the last possible moment before turning and dropping into the murk.
As before, Vambran found the travel exhilarating, because he had the freedom to swim himself rather than relying on Arbeenok to tow him. He worried that he would miss his armor, but since none of the elves in the group wore any, he decided to trust his instincts and learn their ways and culture as best as he could.
Arbeenok did not seem quite as exuberant about swimming as the lieutenant did, and Vambran imagined that being able to transform into a multitude of animals would make the druid less amazed by such new experiences. Still, the alaghi took the opportunity to observe the many wonders of the sea, pointing out flashing schools of fish darting back and forth, great spreads of coral covering the sea floor, and an amazing variety of kelp and other aquatic plants, all of which provided the swimmers with a spectacular vista. They passed the occasional shipwreck, too, in various stages of decay. Vambran pondered the fates of the sailors who had been on board those vessels, wondering how Lady's Favor might look at the moment, sitting in the sandy bottoms where she went down.
His thoughts were interrupted as Serille began to relate some of the history of Naarkolyth. "The elves of the forests and the people of the coastal lands did not agree on a great many things, but in the Year of the Stricken, as I mentioned, they made a last effort at peace. The elves brought with them many gifts, tributes that they hoped would create a bond, a friendship between themselves and the humans of the Cities of the Twelve Swords. Among those gifts, apparently, was a scepter. Though the portions of our histories that describe this scepter in greater detail are lost, what does remain tells of a beautiful natural object, woven of plants and other items of the land. The histories claim that this scepter was powerfully enchanted to bring health to the citizens of the cities."
"And this is the object we seek?" Vambran asked. He felt skeptical. Who's to say this is the right item and not something else, something lost even to the annals of history? he wondered.
Serille shrugged. "It is the only reference to anything with the power to heal that we know of," she said. "If that is not the magic you seek, then why would the Dolphin Lord bring us together?"
Why, indeed, Vambran thought, remembering his swim with the girl earlier.
"I believe the item she describes is the one we are looking for," Arbeenok said, swimming beside the two of them. "I cannot explain it with clarity, but everything she described feels right with my own intuitions."
"Well, even if it is the right one," Vambran said, feeling a sense of gloom wash over him, "we don't have any idea where it is now. A leader of the city could have taken it home with him, could have placed it in some vault somewhere, or it could have shattered during use," he continued. "Jhaamdath stretched all along the coast, just as Chondath does now. Without some sense of reference, that fable doesn't give us much."
"Oh, the histories tell more," Serille said, her smile bright. "The elves chronicled their visit in detail, for they wanted history to understand why the cataclysm came to be. The elves gathered in the midst of Naarkolyth, the largest of the twelve cities, in a great palace, and met with the king. He accepted the gifts the elves had brought and sent them away, promising better relations, but they were empty words, as we now know. The elves believed that the king, fearing a trick, had the gifts sealed away in a vault beneath the same audience chamber where they had been bestowed. He never once took them out and put them to use. Two years later, after more bickering and slaughter, Jhaamdath was wiped from the face of Toril."
"So we know it's in the center of the city of Naarkolyth," Vambran said, imagining what it must have been like in those final hours, as an immense tidal wave scoured the coastline clean. Turning to Arbeenok, the lieutenant asked, "Do you suppose this great palace chamber is the same as in your vision?"
The druid nodded. "I believe so."
"Then you'll know we're there when we actually get there," the mercenary quipped.
After her tale-spinning, Serille took the opportunity to play, cavorting around Vambran, sneaking up beneath or behind him and tickling him when he wasn't expecting it. The lieutenant took some delight in her affections and tried to chase her down once or twice, but she was a far better swimmer than he and easily evaded his lunges. At one point, after she had come at the mercenary officer from above and wrapped her hands across his eyes as if to play guess-who, Vambran noticed one of the male elves scowling at him. As soon as Vambran returned the look, though, the sea elf turned away and swam out a little distance, as though watching for trouble.
I've seen that kind of scowl before, the lieutenant thought, rolling his eyes. He swam over to Serille and said pointedly, "A couple of your companions are acting a little possessive of you, and don't seem to like our carrying on. Is there something I should know?"
Serille's eyes narrowed the slightest bit, but Vambran wasn't certain whether her irritation was directed at him and his blunt question or at the other sea elf's resentment. She asked, "Which one?" in a very serious and somewhat icy tone. When Vambran pointed out the fellow, the girl swam directly over to him and began a rather one-sided conversation, with quite a bit of gesticulating to accompany it. On more than one occasion, the male turned to look at Vambran, but Serille quickly dragged his attention back to her. When the discussion was finished, she swam back to the lieutenant and said, "That's Ishuliga. He doesn't think I should be consorting with surface dwellers. I changed his mind, and he shouldn't be a problem any more." Then she swam away, toward the front of the procession, apparently no longer in a playful mood.
Vambran considered swimming over to Ishuliga himself, to try to settle things in a more comfortable manner, but he decided against it, at least for the time being. If a better opportunity arises, then I might, he decided. With that decision, the mercenary forgot about the matter and returned his attention to the journey at hand.
The sea elves and their visitors traveled for several hours before they arrived at a spot overlooking a region of rough and rocky terrain. Vambran studied it and noted that the contrast between that area and the rest of the seabed seemed remarkable. The idea occurred to him that perhaps it was debris from the great tidal wave. He wondered if certain parts of the coast of Jhaamdath had been harder hit or were more susceptible to destruction than others. It made sense to him that regions along the coast that were formed of loose soil would settle more evenly once dragged into the water, while rocky terrain would form a more uneven landscape-or rather seascape-such as the scene they faced at the moment.