The dwarf reached Fiona’s side just as Brine’s head once again reared above the mast, his jaws open. A gout of steam erupted, and the fringe of the blast struck the dwarf and Solamnic knight and Rig.
The dwarf was wracked with pain. It felt as if he was on fire. He felt his skin blister, his eyes burn, and he knew if the dragon released another breath, they’d all be finished. The scepter in his hand grew incredibly hot, the inlaid bands of precious metal branding his skin. But he refused to drop the Fist, refused to give into the pain.
Black water hit the deck. Blood, the dwarf realized when he noticed the long sword protruding from the dragon’s neck.
“So you can bleed,” Jasper muttered. “That means you can die.”
To his right, Fiona swung at Brine’s tail. Her skin was blistered, too, though she didn’t appear to be slowed by the pain.
“You can die,” Jasper repeated, as he glared at the dragon. The dwarf concentrated on the Fist, remembered Usha’s words about its powers. Find the slaying power, he told himself. Then he closed his eyes so he wouldn’t be distracted by looking at the beast that was looming closer. The rancid smell was bad enough. Find that power! Find that...
Suddenly the dwarf’s fingers felt chilled and the icy cold traveled up his arms. His teeth chattered. He was shivering uncontrollably now, as his fingers loosened their grip ever so slightly on the scepter. And the icy feeling started to fade.
“The power!” Jasper cried out as he raised the Fist of E’li. He was terribly cold, but he managed to slam the scepter down against the dragon’s jaw just as Brine bore down on him to swallow him.
The dragon reared back, trembled and roared, an almost human scream that drowned out the shouts of everyone on board. Brine’s eyes narrowed at the dwarf. He opened his jaws again and lashed his tail against the deck, striking Fiona over the side. Then he dove toward Jasper.
“Again!” Jasper swung the scepter once more. The dwarf felt overwhelmed by cold now. He feared he would pass out from the sensation. His limbs felt thick, and the cold dazed him; yet at the same time he felt strong. Silvanos the elven king wielded this weapon, he thought. If an elf could endure this cold, certainly a dwarf can.
“You can die!” He raised the scepter again, swinging it once more and this time landing a solid blow against the beast’s throat.
Then the dragon rose above the ship again, rose, teetered—and fell backward, away from the Narwhal.
“Die!” Jasper screamed again.
“Blister, hard to starboard!” Jasper heard Rig’s voice. “Ram the dragon, Blister! Ram it before it goes under!”
“First port then starboard, then port, then starboard,” the kender muttered as she pulled hard on the wheel. “Make up your mind or come steer the ship yourself.”
The Narwhal’s timbers groaned.
“Hold onto something!” Rig instructed everyone on deck. “We’re going to...”
The rest of the mariner’s words were drowned out as the bowsprit struck the dragon, penetrating his underbelly like a lance.
Groller, scrambling toward the bow, was the first to be showered by the spray of dragon blood. He pawed at his eyes, wiping it away.
The great sea dragon threw back his head, then flung it forward like a whip, striking the ship. His jaws snapped at the mast, shearing it in two and sending Usha and Fury and several of the others scrambling toward the rear of the ship.
The dragon reared again, but his body jerked spasmodically, his tail twitching. Blood poured from the wound caused by the Narwhal. It spouted from the gash on the dragon’s neck where the sword was still lodged. Chills raced up and down Brine’s body, thanks to the scepter.
Brine’s neck hit the water, the impact threatening to take the Narwhal under.
Then the sea dragon felt himself sinking, and his first conscious thought was relief to be under the water again and free of the ship. Brine grew colder. His tail grew still. The sea dragon’s eyes fluttered closed as his spiny back touched the sand. His chest rose and fell once more, then stopped.
“Fuhree!” Groller motioned the wolf near. His long arms wrapped around the wolf. Fury’s side was bloody from where the mainmast spar had struck him. “Jaz-pear fix,” Groller told his animal companion. “Jaz-pear fix.”
Jasper was at midships, where Usha was heading. The dwarf threw a rope to Fiona, who had narrowly avoided being hit by the dragon’s falling body.
“Dhamon!” the dwarf exclaimed, as he and Usha tugged the Solamnic on board. “Did you see Dhamon in the water?”
Fiona shook her head.
“I think we got the dragon!” Rig shouted. He was at the ballista, with a bolt notched, ready to fire. “I think we killed it!”
“And it got us,” Fiona observed, as she glanced around the deck. “It crippled us.”
“And ate Dhamon,” Blister added glumly. She climbed off the crate behind the wheel. She wasn’t needed there at the moment, especially not with the ship’s mast ruined.
The bowsprit had gone under with Brine. Most of the railing that wrapped around the front of the ship was gone, too. Lines lay across midships, tangled in the sail that shrouded the broken mast.
Usha was wrapping a blanket around Fiona, despite the knight’s protests that she was all right.
“I never would’ve picked a one-masted ship,” Rig muttered. He backed away from the ballista and looked at Fiona, his expression instantly softening. “No mast. No oars. We’re stuck.”
“At least we don’t have to worry about the sea dragon anymore,” Blister said.
The mariner gave her a slight smile. “Maybe Palin can wiggle his fingers and whisk us away,” he said. “Maybe he’ll even...”
“Rig!” Jasper, leaning over the port side of the ship, was calling to him.
“Now what?” The mariner tromped over.
“Who are you? What are you?” Rig stared over the railing into a pale blue face that was peering back at him. It was framed by glistening silver white hair that fanned out in the water. “And how did you find Dhamon Grimwulf?” The mariner watched as the sea elf hoisted an unconscious Dhamon into Jasper’s hands.
“Veylona,” she said. “Found Day-mon Grimwulf on coral shelf.” The pale blue elf spoke haltingly. “Near death. Might die. Watched Brine... squeeze... Day-mon against coral.”
Quickly, in her broken speech, she recounted the tale of Dhamon caught beneath Brine. Occasionally, in frustration with the unfamiliar language, she slipped into her sea elven dialect.
Rig asked her more questions, which she brushed aside.
“Please to wait,” she said. Then she disappeared below the surface of the water.
“Wait. Ha! We’re not able to go anywhere,” the mariner muttered as he looked over Dhamon. “Lots of broken ribs. Lots of blood. He feels cold. Looks pale. You don’t need to be a healer to tell he’s dying.”
Fiona, Groller, and Fury joined them at the rail. The Solamnic took the blanket from around her shoulders and draped it over Dhamon.
“Can you help him?” Usha asked as she glided up behind Jasper.
“I have faith,” the dwarf said, as he bent and searched for his inner spark. The dwarf paused to pick up the scepter. “But this’ll help. I don’t have much of my own energy left,” he added.
“Jaz-pear fix?” Groller asked, oblivious to the conversation around him.
The dwarf nodded. “Yes, I can fix him again. Hobby of mine. Fixing.” He grinned as the spark grew.
“Feril,” Dhamon mumbled. “Feril...”
“Feril?” It was Rig’s voice this time. The mariner was still looking over the side at where the sea elf had disappeared. She resurfaced in almost the same spot, this time with the Kagonesti at her side.
“I was afraid you were dead,” the mariner said, as he extended a hand and helped Feril on board. His eyes opened wide as he noticed she wore no clothes, only a crown on her head.
“I thought I was dead, too,” she said, as she rubbed at a spot on the back of her head. “Veylona saved me.”