The sea elf’s hands were webbed, her ears gracefully pointed, eyes wide and expressive, hinting at warmth and kindness. Her lips, a darker shade of blue, were moving. She was saying something. Veil? Veil-long? Feril felt the vibrations in the water before she heard the words. But the Kagonesti couldn’t understand the words. As the sea elf spoke, fragments of words sounded familiar to Feril; they reminded her of her native tongue. Again, the sea elf ran her fingers along Feril’s sides.
Feril shut out the sensation and selected another spell. As it took effect, she watched the sea elf step back, filled with surprise. The Dimernesti grabbed a piece of sculpture, holding it in front of her, and Feril prayed the sea elf wouldn’t hit her with it. The Kagonesti desperately needed her first encounter with a Dimernesti to be a friendly one.
The sea elf replaced the sculpture, and Feril breathed a sigh of relief. The Kagonesti continued to change. Her tail elongated and split, forming legs covered with pale yellow scales. Her fins thrust out to her sides, fleshed out and became scale-covered arms. Within several moments, Feril floated before the sea elf, her hair fluttering like a lion’s mane in the water, the tattoos on her face and arm visible. She had taken on her Kagonesti form, but her body retained the triggerfish’s scales and coloration, and her neck preserved the fish’s gills.
Veil. The word the sea elf repeated again sounded like “veil.” The Dimernesti cautiously approached Feril. More words spilled from her mouth. “Elf” was the only one Feril could make out.
The Kagonesti tried to respond but found she couldn’t speak intelligibly in this form. Her own elven words were foreign to the sea elf. She settled on a different tact, thinking of Groller so far distant. Pointing toward the ceiling, she cupped her hands in front of her, as if she were holding something. Then she moved her hands forward, as if they were a boat. Finally she placed her hands flat against each other and tilted them down, pantomiming diving.
The sea elf looked at her quizzically, but friendly, extended a hand, and led her from the room. As they went, the sea elf continued to talk; her words sounded musical. Only a few had any similarity to the elven tongue Feril knew. The only ones she recognized were elf, magic, and dragon.
Their path took them across the park. Nowhere did Feril see any other beings, only the triggerfish and a few crabs that scuttled along the sandy streets. The sea elf swam quickly, furtively glancing above and down each waterway between rows of buildings. She slipped between a pair of rose-colored dwellings, coaxing Feril along.
Then the Dimernesti turned down a street lined with massive, polished conch shells. They passed several more ruined buildings along the way. Feril wanted to ask her guide about them, but she filed the questions away for later, for a time when communication might become possible. Perhaps the elf was taking her to someone who could help her.
They approached a building that Feril guessed stretched upward five or six stories. It was a pale gray, shot through in places by streaks of silver. Soft orange light spilled from windows that spiraled up its sides.
The sea elf started talking again, faster, words that didn’t register with the Kagonesti. She pulled Feril toward a round door, rapping her pale blue hand against it. After several moments, the door opened, and a male sea elf stood in the frame.
His skin was a shade of bright blue, and his hair was dark green and short. He looked at the pair with a puzzled expression, as the female sea elf guide rattled off what Feril assumed was an explanation of how a fish swam into her home and turned into a scaly elf.
The man stepped aside, gesturing, and Feril allowed herself to be conducted into a circular chamber, the walls of which were covered in shell mosaics depicting fish, blue-skinned elves, and fantastical creatures. There was a hole in the ceiling, providing access to another floor. A similar hole at the edge of the room led to somewhere below.
Three more sea elves swam through an oval doorway directly across from Feril. They were young and muscular, wearing only shimmering cloths about their thighs. And they carried nets. Feril moved back toward the door, panic rising in her throat.
Her guide shook her head at the men, waving her webbed hands and speaking rapidly. But the men seemed to ignore her and headed straight toward Feril.
The Kagonesti felt the rush of water behind her as the door was closed, blocking her way out. She whirled and bumped into the bright blue elf. He grabbed her shoulders, and spoke words she couldn’t decipher. She struggled, but his hands were surprisingly strong and locked about her arms. He pushed her against the wall, continued to talk.
“I mean no harm!” Feril shouted in her native tongue, then again in the common tongue. Both times her words were distorted and lost on the sea elves. “I can’t let this happen!”
She summoned her strength, placing her feet against the wall, and pushed back as hard as she could, managing to break the grip of the blue sea elf.
Then she kicked out with as much force as she could manage. She bought herself a few yards, though the men with the nets were coming closer as her guide still argued with them.
She swam toward the oval doorway, narrowly avoiding the outstretched nets. Then she quickly altered her course. More elves might be in the chambers beyond. At the last moment, she kicked her legs hard and angled herself toward the hole in the ceiling. She was about to kick harder when a hand clamped around her ankle.
Her foot struck a face, and she bucked wildly to tear loose. But a hand grabbed her other ankle, and though she continued to struggle, the hands pulled her down. A net was thrown over her. Feril ripped through several of the strands. A second net was added, the weave uncomfortably tight. And then a third.
Bundled up, the Kagonesti was carried through the hole in the ceiling. The sea elf who had guided Feril to this building was left behind as she was taken to the third story of the tower. She was kept here under the guard of a pair of elves who tried to talk to her. It was hopeless—she still couldn’t fathom a word. The nets in which she was trapped were secured to a decorative post.
There was furniture in this room, and her three guards sat on slabs extending from the walls. The largest of the sea elves commanded a net chair that hung from a corner. Having given up on communicating with her, they conversed among themselves. Feril listened as she struggled to free herself. “Elf” was the word repeated most often. “Magic, fish, and dragon” always followed. Other elves came and went, chattering to her guards and ogling the prisoner.
She could use her magic to alter her form, become small enough, perhaps, to slip through gaps in the net. Other spells could split and rend the net and let her flee in this form. But should she cast such spells? Or should she wait, bide her time? The sea elves had not hurt her. And if they operated like other elven societies, no doubt leaders were being summoned to decide what to do with her. Perhaps she would be able to explain to them about the crown.
But how long should she wait?
A while, at least, she finally decided; long enough to rest and rebuild her strength. Feril was tired. She drifted in and out of an uneasy sleep, regaining some of her strength. She suspected the better part of the day had passed by the time her guards changed. The two new watchers chatted with her former captors in the doorway.
She concentrated, remembering the triggerfish, deciding a small one might wriggle its way free and lose itself in this city. One triggerfish among dozens. She felt her skin tighten, her form start to shrink. Then she stopped the spell. One of the new guards was approaching.
“Do you understand the common tongue?” he asked, the words muffled through the water, but distinct enough for her to make them out. “Veylona thought she heard you speak it. Are you from the surface?”