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The first part of the ship consisted of what remained of the hold. Baylee found three more books intact but didn't take the time to try to decipher the language in them. He put them into the bag at once. He tracked through the silt, searching through the rooms. A jewel encrusted sword hilt lay in the center of one of the rooms, the blade eaten away by time and the brine.

The fifth door he tried was locked. He stepped back and rammed a foot against the jamb, splintering the wood and shoving it inside.

Moving silently, bleached white bone against the murky depths of the sea, four men boiled out of the room and came at him. They resembled corpses, bloated and discolored flesh padding out their frames, faces holding only empty eye sockets. Tatters of clothing clung to them, whipped about by the ocean currents.

Baylee gave ground at once, hoping that the potion would allow him to escape them. He recognized them as drowned ones, men who had died at sea and been granted a vengeful unlife. He experienced a momentary bout with nausea, but it passed quickly.

The ranger moved faster than they did, but he knew they would never allow him to simply escape.

He hung the lantern on a stub of a broken spar, knowing the magic within it would keep it from being crushed or extinguished by the water, then drew the long sword and partying dagger Cthulad had purchased for him in Caer Callidyrr. He dropped into a fighter's crouch and met the first drowned one's sword thrust.

"Shallowsoul!" Krystarn Fellhammer stood at the wall and waited for the dimensional door to open.

What is it? the lich asked irritably, his voice echoing inside her head.

"I have found the ranger. And I have found the ship."

The wall wavered at once.

Krystarn stepped through, met immediately by the lich. The part of the library she appeared in held two stone benches sitting in a magical arboretum where flowered plants wended up through stacks of books for over forty feet. This wing of the library carried an atmosphere unlike any she'd ever been in before. Where the others had primarily been closed in and reverential, this one seemed somehow gay and open. The area above the arboretum even looked like an open sky, even though the drow knew that couldn't be so.

Where are they? The lich took the crystal ball from her grip, peering into the device's depths with its hollow-eyed gaze.

"North and east of Mintarn," Krystarn answered. The image trapped in the glass clearly showed Baylee Arnvold in the shipwreck's hold, battling animated corpses. For days she had been following the Waterdhavian contingent of watch officers under Junior Civilar Cordyan Tsald. At first, the drow had believed Baylee to be aboard the watch's ship, but it had taken two days before she realized that, in truth, the ranger had eluded them too. Watching the Waterdhavians had taken precious time away from her.

They have found it, the lich said. And now, so have I. The creature reached beneath his jacket and took out a pouch. Placing the crystal ball in the air, he left it levitating there at eye level. He poured the contents from the bag into one bony hand.

Krystarn got only a glimpse of the figurines there. The one the lich chose was a carving of a whale.

Shallowsoul spoke aloud old words in the elvish tongue that Krystarn did not understand. Some of them seemed familiar, but she couldn't be sure. She felt the magic weighted in them, causing sporadic backlashes in the shield she kept in place against the lich.

When he was finished, Shallowsoul closed his hand over the whale figurine. "Now," the lich said in a quiet voice, "now it will be finished."

Krystarn watched the floating crystal ball, seeing Baylee Arnvold fighting for his life. She waited to see what form the lich's magic would take, an uncontrollable shiver racing through her.

Baylee pressed the release on the parrying dagger, unleashing the two side blades and making a proper claw out of it. He turned the first drowned one's blade with the dagger, then slashed with the long sword, caving in the drowned one's head.

The animated corpse went slack, floating away on the ocean currents circulating through the hulk.

Baylee dodged the next attack, moving to his right for greater freedom of movement. He slashed at the next drowned one's leg, shearing it at the knee. It flopped feebly, trying to get at the ranger. Baylee crushed its skull with the dagger hilt.

The other two drowned ones met similar fates at the end of his long sword. Cautiously, he closed the spring blades of the parrying dagger and sheathed it. He took up the lantern again and walked into the cabin the drowned ones had guarded.

He searched the cabin, finding an overturned trunk with an iron lock that had rusted closed. Using the long sword's hilt, he shattered the lock. It took a moment longer for him to pry the lid open.

The trunk was filled nearly to the brim with gems and gold pieces. It was a king's treasure, perhaps the treasure of several kings.

But on top of it all was a book.

Picking the book up, Baylee full well expected it to start falling apart. The tome was put together of parchment, but there must have been magic in it because the pages turned easily and showed no signs of distress from either time or brine.

He ran his hand across the embossed surface, feeling as well as reading the name in the lower right-hand corner. Gyynyth Skyreach.

The leader of the whales heard the old call in his head. The knowledge of the call had been passed down from generation to generation, as well as the story of the debt that they owed the one who called.

The whale leader sounded his mournful cry and heard it echo through the nearby waters. His pod came to him, falling into line in his wake immediately.

"A way will be made," the voice inside the whale leader's head said. "You are very far from your goal. But if you trust me, I will get you there."

The whale leader trumpeted in agreement. A moment later, the water rippled in front of him. He swam through without hesitation. The debt his people owed the one who called was immense.

And he felt the dimensions shift around him, just as the Elders had described in their stories.

A light nimbus approaching from the hallway outside warned Baylee that he was no longer alone inside the ship. He opened the bag and shoved the book through. He closed the bag and looked inside a moment later. The book was gone. He was relieved, because he'd never tried to shove through so many things at one time.

He bent down and grabbed the corner of the trunk, barely able to get it started moving.

Uziraff came around the corner. "I saw the drowned ones," the pirate captain said. "I thought perhaps something had happened to you."

"Thought, or hoped?" Baylee asked. He waited for Uziraff to grab the other end of the chest. Together, they managed to stagger through the doorway with the chest.

"Have you found anything else of interest in here?" Uziraff asked.

"This chest," Baylee answered. "But I've not gotten the chance to search much further. Most of the cargo appears to have been lost."

"We've picked up a lot of it outside." Uziraff grinned in the lantern light.

Baylee kept silent, struggling to get through the gap and bringing the chest with them. They had nearly made it to the waiting net when one of the two pirates pointed and screamed.

Turning, Baylee looked back in the direction they'd come from. The lantern lights were barely bright enough to illuminate the huge gray bodies as they swam into view. The alien eyes, bigger than the ranger himself, stared at him.

Then the whales swam into the wreckage of Chalice of the Crowns, smashing it into even smaller bits than it had been. The turbulence created by their passing shoved Baylee from his feet. For a moment, he was tangled in the net with the treasure Uziraff and his two men had gathered. Then he was free, the lantern in hand as he swam for a rocky outcropping.