“Dragon more interest for ship,” the sea elf said, as she scrambled over the side.
“A Dimernesti!” Blister squealed. The kender skittered to the sea elf’s side and stretched up a gnarled hand in a greeting. “A real, living sea elf!” The kender raised an eyebrow at Feril’s lack of attire, then gave her attention to Veylona.
Rig shoved the kender’s questions to Veylona to the back of his mind and stared at Feril another moment, then felt the flush of embarrassment rise to his face. He quickly removed his shirt and handed it to her.
“Veylona,” Feril said by way of introduction, interrupting Blister’s prattle. The others joined the gathering. “She’s a Dimernesti healer,” Feril explained. “I owe her my life, and she saved Dhamon.”
“Tried,” the sea elf said. “Day-mon.” Her smooth face showed concern as she peered over the dwarf’s shoulders as he cared for Dhamon. “Student of Nuqala.”
“Nuqala will be happy to know that Brine is dead,” Feril added.
“Most glad,” Veylona replied. Her eyes studied the dwarf, watching his fingers and the way his brow furrowed as he worked his healing magic.
Dhamon gasped, his eyes fluttered open, and his hand reached up to grab at the dwarf’s. He coughed, water rushing from his mouth. Jasper helped him up, pounding his back. Dhamon coughed deeply several more times.
“You’ll be sore for a while,” the dwarf said, “and you’ll have a few bruises. You’d better rest.”
“Thank you,” Dhamon said to the dwarf. “Again.”
Jasper smiled, but his eyes were riveted on the comely sea elf. “Always happy to help people who appreciate me.” He shook his head, as if clearing his senses, sighed, then turned his attention back toward Dhamon. He helped him to his feet and frowned when Dhamon clutched his side.
“I guess a little rest wouldn’t hurt,” Dhamon told him. “Veylona, thank you, too.” He met Feril’s gaze; his expression showed relief that the Kagonesti was all right. She nodded to him and watched Jasper lead him toward the ladder, Blister’s questions following them down the stairs.
Then the air buzzed with voices around Feril and Veylona. “Stay here time,” Veylona announced. “Nuqala say stay. Help.”
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” Rig offered. “Since we aren’t going anywhere.” He gestured at the broken mast. “Unless Palin can magic us someplace.”
Veylona and Feril exchanged glances. The elves smiled as Feril’s fingers brushed the coral crown on her head.
“What?” Rig asked, wondering what had passed between the two women.
“Give me a few minutes,” Feril answered. “Let me find something else to wear. I’ll let Veylona explain.”
“Explain what?” the mariner continued. Fiona had moved up beside him, her fingers enfolding his.
“Maybe you should find something for Veylona to wear, too,” Fiona called to Feril as the Kagonesti slipped below deck.
“Zea elf.” Groller finally spoke. He was staring at Veylona, at her shimmering hair that hung to her waist and at the slight silver tunic that clung to her body. His mouth was agape. He didn’t hear Rig chuckle when the half-ogre proffered a big hand to shake hers. “Bootiful blue zea elf.”
Veylona’s cheeks darkened slightly. She smiled and listened to Rig explain Groller’s deafness. “But he’s definitely not blind,” the mariner whispered into Fiona’s ear.
“And neither are you,” she answered. “I think I’ll help Feril find Veylona something a little warmer for her to wear.”
It was shortly after noon that the Narwhal got underway, heading back toward the Khur coast, but avoiding the Ak-Khurman harbor. Rig decided not to chance running into any more Knights of Takhisis ships that might have found their way there.
Groller was at the wheel, with the wolf curled comfortably about his feet. Rig and Fiona sat with Veylona near the capstan. The sea elf was now garbed in a voluminous dark green tunic, belted at the waist and hanging halfway down her thighs. Though her command of their language was limited, she did her best to regale the pair with stories about life in Dimernost and the horrors the people there suffered because of the dragon.
Jasper was below deck, fretting over Dhamon and trying to heal the blisters on his skin.
The kender was below deck, too, rummaging around in the small galley to find foodstuffs that hadn’t been spilled during the ordeal with the dragon. She had promised something “tasty and interesting” for dinner to celebrate the death of the sea dragon overlord. And she had found a bottle of something purple that might pass for wine.
Feril sat by the ship’s rudder, watching the water as it jetted toward the Narwhal. She had helped create the narrow, powerful wave, which was guiding the ship. The Narwhal was moving as fast as if it was under full sail. Veylona had volunteered to relieve the Kagonesti from time to time.
A week and a half, Rig guessed the journey would take them, three fewer days than it had taken to get them to the kingdom of the Dimernesti. Then where to? he wondered. And if Palin knew where to go, would there be time to stop Takhisis?
Had Palin found out where the Dark Queen was to appear?
18
Ariakan’s Rest
Palin concentrated on the enchantment that would spirit him to Ariakan’s Rest, more than a thousand miles from where he stood in the Tower of Wayreth.
“Wait!” The soft, indistinct voice made him start, and the incantation slipped away from him, unfinished. The Shadow Sorcerer glided into the room. “I am so certain Takhisis will appear in the cave, I will risk traveling with you.”
Palin looked at the dark figure narrowly. “If you’re correct, there should be dragons nearby. Certainly there will be Knights of Takhisis. It could be dangerous.”
The hooded figure nodded. “I have studied dragons longer than you, Majere. To see one up close might be the appropriate culmination of my studies.”
“Culmination,” Palin softly chuckled, then stopped, unsure if the Shadow Sorcerer was serious or had attempted a joke.
“Besides, I have not left this tower in quite some time,” added the sorcerer. “You might need some help.”
“I’ll not argue with that.”
Palin glanced at his left hand. Dalamar’s ring sat next to his marriage band.
The Shadow Sorcerer watched his face closely. “You have not cast magic with such an ancient and powerful artifact before?” he inquired.
“Many times,” Palin replied. “I carried the Staff of Magius for years. But it has been a while.”
“Then shall we be on our way?”
“I welcome your company.” Palin briefly thought of Usha, vowing to contact her as soon as he investigated Ariakan’s Rest. He had not spoken to her in several days, for he’d been wrapped up in his studies. He wanted the Shadow Sorcerer to be right, and he hoped to find some evidence that the goddess was returning to Krynn inside a cave. Then Palin would transport his companions there, along with the artifacts they’d been gathering. He had been mulling over the possibilities of using the artifacts to bring the mountain down on top of the Dark Queen and any dragons gathered there—even if such an act might end their own lives. It would be a trivial sacrifice, he thought, if it kept Takhisis away from Krynn. “Ready?” The Shadow Sorcerer nodded almost imperceptibly.
Palin concentrated on the spell again and on Dalamar’s ring. He drew the energy from the ring, and the magic came quickly, whisking them away from the room high in the Tower of Wayreth. The stone floor of the tower disappeared beneath their feet, and within a few passing moments, the two sorcerers stood on uneven rocky ground on the side of a mountain in the heart of Neraka.
“This is not the cave,” the Shadow Sorcerer observed.