Mel Odom
The Lost Library of Cormanthyr
PROLOGUE
North of Mintarn in the Trackless Sea 600 Years Ago
"May Lloth take your soul into her evil embrace, woman, as penance for killing us all!"
Her beautiful elven face drenched by the torrents pouring from the unbridled sea around them, Gyynyth Skyreach turned to face the speaker. Dark moonlight spearing through the black clouds overhead sparked fire from her pale green eyes. "On the contrary, Captain Rinnah, I ordered us into the only chance we had. If we'd tried to sail around the storm front, we'd have been caught by the pirates that pursue us."
The captain held on to the ship's rigging as his body swayed instinctively with the rolling pitch and yaw of his vessel. "Putting a dagger blade across the throat of every person on this ship would have been a cleaner death than the one you've ordained," Rinnah roared back at her over the crash of thunder and the horrendous splash of twenty-foot waves falling across the ship's deck.
"You should be directing your crew," Skyreach yelled.
"Those men hardly need any direction going to their deaths as they are!" Rinnah staggered as the ship wallowed between waves, tossed like a child's toy. Gallons of brine splashed across the deck, gathering into a force that swept men from their feet, broken only by the railing and the masts. A harsh, ragged yell started up somewhere behind the captain, then echoed down the side of the ship before it ended abruptly.
Skyreach steeled herself, pushing away the fear that threatened to consume her. The devotion to the quest she'd been given by her great-grandfather would see her clear. She wore her copper colored hair tied up and was dressed in a warrior's leathers. The metal breast plate she'd ordered readied before the sea drank down the sun hours ago banged against the side of the ship, held by the braided leather thong she'd used to tie it into place.
Barely half the captain's size even though he was Tel'Quessir as well, she'd be washed over the side in a heartbeat if one of the treacherous waves caught her in the open. One of her leather gloved hands was twined in the ship's rigging. She held her long sword bared in the other, the runes etched dark in the metal. She was not used to having her decisions questioned, much less challenged. Her temperament would not allow it, nor would the station her great-grandfather had bequeathed her.
"I was told you were a brave man, Captain Rinnah," she said in acidic accusation. The tips of her pointed ears and parts of her face had gone numb from the cold that had descended with the storm over Chalice of the Crowns. Yet, still her anger burned hot within her.
Men scattered in all directions around them. The ship's crew tried to handle the lines of rigging. The sails had been dropped when the worst of the storm swept over them, but so many of the booms had broken loose the ship itself had become a danger.
The warriors that she'd led sought to maintain their positions along the railing, staying ready for the battle that she expected might yet come. Before the storm had arrived so quickly in all its gale and fury, one of the trio of pirate ships that had pursued them from the Sword Coast for the last few days had been closing in rapidly, finally cutting down on their lead.
"I am a brave man," Rinnah yelled. "But I have to admit, I am far, far too greedy. I should never have taken on this fool's quest no matter how much gold was involved. If we had jettisoned the cargo as I suggested-"
"That would never have been allowed," Skyreach promised.
The captain took advantage of a roll of the waves, managing a couple steps down the deck toward her. "You purchase my services, woman, you don't own me," he said.
Skyreach lifted her long sword in an eye blink, her arm bringing the weapon into line as natural as breathing. Her great-grandfather had seen to her tutelage himself, graced her with his motivations, and turned her relentless in the pursuit of his goal. She knew she'd kill the captain for his impudence alone, not even allowing the man the offense of laying his hands on her. But, perhaps, she still had need of his skill. That was the only thing that stayed her hand.
The long sword's point stopped bare inches from the man's face. She froze the ship's captain into place with the steel of her blade and the iron in her gaze. "Another step, Captain, and well both get a look at whatever guts you profess to have."
Rinnah started to say something, but he was interrupted by a squall from one of his mates.
"Caaaaptaaain!"
Skyreach kept her weapon ready.
Rinnah swiveled his head around. Big and burly, his hair a twist of wet knots and his finery all undone by hours spent in the inclement weather trying to find safe passage through the storm, he looked to be a ferocious opponent. A brace of throwing knives went around his waist on a weathered belt made of lizard skin. The scarred and worn handles of the knives showed much use and a certain… familiarity. He stared up at the crow's nest.
Skyreach looked as well, her arm aching with the strain of hanging on to the rigging. She peered through the sheets of needle-sharp rain whipped by the frenzy of the storm. She barely made out the crewman's pointing arm.
Aft of Chalice of the Crowns, a ship with full sails burst through the storm's darkness and gained rapidly. Its spinnaker was out before it, dancing wildly in the ripping winds. A trident of living lightning seared across the bruised sky, running almost horizontally at what seemed only a hand's span above the writhing black water. In the afterglow of the lightning, Skyreach spotted the flag snapping out from the main mast. The skull and crossbones looked stark, white on a field of black.
"Pirates!" someone screamed.
The cry echoed along the deck of Chalice of the Crowns, picked up by sailors and the men Skyreach led. She eyed her enemy grimly. She didn't know who had pursued them with such tenacity. The horde of darkness that had gathered to tear Cormanthyr down had drawn forces from everywhere. She did not know if the City of Songs still stood, and that uncertainty had weighed so heavily in her heart these days that she had been gone from it.
Skyreach lifted her voice, bellowing above the swell of the waves and the thunder to the knot of men along the rail. "Scaif!"
A tall elven warrior turned to face her. He wore simple leather, but Scaif had been one of the most trusted men in her great-grandfather's courts. "Aye, milady."
"Get Verys to my side," Skyreach commanded.
"At once, milady." Scaif saluted, then tapped one of the warriors at his side on the shoulder. The warrior took off immediately but was overtaken by a roil of dark seawater. Miraculously, the man grabbed the railing around the central hold as he was washed across the deck, saving himself. He staggered to his feet as Chalice of the Crowns twisted again, then seemed to drop into a bottomless pit.
"Captain Rinnah." Skyreach made her voice unforgiving, pulling much of her great-grandfather's wrath into it.
The captain spun toward her.
When the ship bottomed out against the sea again, Skyreach thought for a moment that her legs weren't going to be strong enough to hold her. The railing abraded her palm even inside the leather glove, promising blisters on the morrow. She ignored the pain. She had never failed her great-grandfather while he was alive, nor would she allow herself to fail Faimcir Glitterwing's memory. She pointed her long sword at the approaching vessel and said, "Would you see your ship taken as a pirate's prize?"
The captain bared his teeth in a grimace of disgust. "Haven't you been listening to me, woman? We're all dead. The men in that ship are only fooling themselves to even pretend to think otherwise."
"We're not dead until I say we're dead," Skyreach yelled back in a harsh voice. Lightning cascaded across the dark heavens again, underscoring the terrible possibilities of her words. No one knew the capability she had-or was prepared to use. "Now, do you captain this ship, or do I give your first mate a field promotion?"