Ghaji ground his teeth in frustration. Diran had an exasperating tendency to, as the Lhazaarites put it, dive in head-first without bothering to check how deep the water was. Ghaji usually followed, despite his better judgment. He wasn’t at all certain that they should trust Yvka. She was obviously hiding something. It was clear enough to Ghaji that the elf-woman wasn’t a simple traveling entertainer, but what exactly she was he didn’t know. Ghaji hated not knowing. It was more difficult to fight something-or someone-if you didn’t understand your foe. Lack of knowledge had probably killed more men and women in the history of Eberron than all the swords that had ever been forged. Ghaji decided he’d simply have to keep a sharp eye on Yvka and watch for any hint of betrayal.
“Not much farther now,” Yvka said.
Yvka continued to lead them along the shore until they reached a small cove. It was so small, in fact, that Ghaji didn’t see how the elf-woman had managed to steer a ship between the outcroppings of rock without running aground. Yvka’d said her craft was small, but Ghaji figured she couldn’t be any larger a common lifeboat. While she might be large enough to carry the three of them, Ghaji couldn’t see how she could possibly be swift enough to catch up to the elemental galleons of the Black Fleet.
Yvka led them to the mouth of a cave that opened onto the sea. The elf-woman paused at the entrance to reach down and pick up a metal lantern lying just inside the cave. Yvka lifted the lantern’s hood then and a warm yellow glow shone forth. Since she hadn’t lit it by hand or uttered a spell, Ghaji assumed it was an everbright lantern.
Yvka turned to them and said, “She’s here.”
Ghaji peered into the cave. The light from Yvka’s lantern did little to dispel the darkness within. If the elf-woman intended to spring some sort of trap on them, this would be the perfect place to do so.
“You hesitate,” Yvka said. “What’s wrong, don’t you trust me?”
Ghaji was about to answer when Diran responded.
“Trust must be earned, and we haven’t known you long enough to trust you. Besides, the only person I trust completely in this world is the man standing beside me.”
Ghaji nodded his thanks to Diran without taking his eyes off Yvka.
The elf-woman didn’t seem put out in the slightest by Diran’s comment. “Very well. I’ll go first.” She turned and walked into the cave.
Diran and Ghaji exchanged looks, then the half-orc stepped forward, the priest following close behind.
The cave was larger inside than Ghaji expected. The walls and ceiling were rough and uneven, but they displayed unmistakable signs of having been carved by hand. This was no natural cave. A narrow walkway ran around the walls, providing just enough room for two people, and thin ones, at that, to walk shoulder to shoulder. In the middle of the cave was a pool of water and there, tethered by a rope tied to an iron ring set into the walkway, was Yvka’s vessel.
Ghaji hadn’t known what to expect, but this certainly wasn’t it. The craft was larger than he’d anticipated, about the size of a sailboat, though narrower and sleeker, her bow tapering to a point almost like the tip of an arrow. A slim mast rose from the center of the sloop, the sail furled and tied down. Behind the mast was a small cabin barely large enough to accommodate a single crewperson, let alone three, especially if one of those three was a tall, broad, and slightly thick about the middle half-orc. The sloop rode several feet above water, resting atop a pair of runners that protruded from the bottom of her hull. A wooden column rose from the stern of the vessel, a thin metal ring bolted to its top.
“She’s an elemental sloop,” Diran said in wonder.
Yvka shone the lantern’s light on the craft so they could get a better look at her.
“Zephyr’s something, isn’t she?” the elf-woman said. “She was built by an artificer to carry supplies during the Last War. She was designed for speed in order to outrun and out-maneuver other ships, and her size allowed her to navigate past naval blockades.”
“She’s built from soarwood, isn’t she?” Diran asked.
Yvka nodded. “It possesses magical buoyancy.”
“Soarwood is quite rare indeed,” Diran said. “Do you mind my asking how you came by such a singular craft?”
“I don’t mind you asking at all,” Yvka said with a smile, “provided you don’t mind my not answering.”
Ghaji frowned. “What sort of supplies could you transport with so small a vessel?”
“Dragonshards, of course,” Diran said.
Yvka nodded. “Though since the war ended, she’s served a different purpose.”
“Which is?” Ghaji asked.
Yvka smiled again, and this time her eyes held a mischievous twinkle. “To take me wherever I wish to go.”
Ghaji hated Yvka’s evasiveness, but as maddening as the twinkle in her eyes was, it only served to accentuate her elven beauty. At least now he understood how she’d managed to navigate the treacherous waters of the cove. Her elemental sloop was doubtless far more maneuverable than any ordinary craft.
“Climb aboard,” Yvka said.
Diran started toward the craft, but Ghaji took hold of the priest’s arm and stopped him.
“A moment, Diran. I know you’re eager to rescue Makala,” when Diran frowned, Ghaji hastily added, “along with the other prisoners, of course, but this boat gives us all the more reason for suspicion. There’s no way that a traveling player would be in possession of such a vessel.” He glanced at Yvka.
“Undoubtedly,” Diran concurred.
Ghaji regretted having to speak his next words, but he had no choice. “Yvka’s not a simple juggler, and since she won’t tell us what she is, we have no choice but to assume she’s a criminal of some sort, a smuggler or perhaps even a spy for one of the other Lhazaar Princes.”
“I am offering to help you,” Yvka said with more than a hint of exasperation. “What more do you need to know?”
“At the moment, nothing,” Diran said. He turned to Ghaji. “You’re wrong, my friend, but not about being suspicious, though, for our elven friend is quite a mystery. You were wrong when you said we have no choice but to think her a criminal. There is another choice.”
“And what’s that?” Ghaji said, unable to keep the words from coming out in a growl.
Diran smiled gently. “To have faith.”
Ghaji scowled.
CHAPTER SIX
They had spent the hour picking their way through the night forest, slowly and deliberately, making no sound and disturbing none of the animals busy with their nocturnal foraging. They were shadows, creatures formed of air and darkness, phantoms flitting from tree to tree, silent and unseen.
Makala was impressed. She and Diran had been friends since childhood, and she’d known he was one of Emon Gorsedd’s most talented charges. After all, hadn’t it been she who’d told the warlord that Diran was ready for his final test? She’d never realized the profound depths of patience and concentration that her childhood friend was capable of summoning. Emon had chosen her to accompany Diran during his test and evaluate his performance, but though she was fifteen, two years older than Diran, and had passed her own final test three years ago, she found herself hard-pressed to match his stealth. Diran was going to make a great assassin one day, perhaps even greater than Emon himself. If he passed his final test, that is.
The woods were thick here, and the canopy of leaves above them blocked out all light from the moons and stars. The forest was so dark it was as if the air was filled with solid shadow, but after a time a glint of orange light became visible off in the distance. They headed toward the illumination, Diran leading, Makala following. The glint grew larger, the trees sparser, until they at last found themselves at the edge of a small clearing. Diran and Makala crouched behind a thick hawthorn bush and peered into the clearing. Actually, only Diran looked into the clearing; Makala was watching his face, waiting for him to react to what she knew waited for them here.