Go to the cave, he told himself. You don’t have to be here. You can go to the cave. Concentrate. You can free yourself of this.
The fire grew warmer and brighter in his mind. He was almost there.
When he was certain he had built the cave in his mind as best as he could, when he felt the tie to the fire at its strongest, when he was certain he could hold his breath no longerhe released his grip on the gill slit and shoved himself forward.
For a moment, he thought he might be on a one way trip to the shark’s belly. Then he sprawled against a stone floor. Choking and gasping, retching up some of the saltwater he had inadvertently swallowed, he pushed himself to his knees.
His soaked clothing clung to him heavily. He grabbed his shirt and wrung water from the material. The sea gushed in a torrent to spatter the stone.
It hadn’t been a dream or simple illusion. He had been there. The Blue Lady was real.
As his mind tried to deal with that, Shang-Li crept closer to the fire to soak up its warmth. He rubbed at his arms vigorously to increase the blood flow. He knew his father would tsk in disappointment at his lack of control. At the moment, though, Shang-Li didn’t care. The fire felt good and much more hospitable than the bottom of the Sea of Fallen Stars.
Outside the cave, the rain fell in a drumming rush, almost blunting the other sounds that came from without. If Moonwhisper hadn’t spread his great wings and opened his yellow eyes in consternation, Shang-Li didn’t know if he would’ve heard the fearful shouts of men.
Moving quickly, Shang-Li gathered the book and the papers, and shoved them into his pack. He slung the pack over his shoulder, shot his arms through the straps, and ran.
Moonwhisper glided out into the heavy rain just ahead of him.
— SS›S SSS
The long hours of constant rain had turned the ground soft. As Shang-Li ran, the earth moved and shifted beneath him. Grassless expanses beneath the oak and pine trees held small ponds that covered treacherous mud slicks. He pounded and skidded through those, never once breaking pace.
Moonwhisper flew above the treetops, almost lost in the blinding rain. Shang-Li traded senses only long enough to spot the ship sitting at anchorage near the foothills of the mountain. Sailors darted across Swallow’s decks. Others clambered nets to get to safety.
Fierce warriors trailed in their wake. Moonwhisper glided lower and his vision picked out the attackers easily. Despite the long shadows of night and the owl’s limited black and white vision, Shang-Li recognized the aggressors as kuo-toa.
The fish-people dwelled in the Underdark, in the twisted maze of caverns and tunnels that ran beneath the surface world. Worshiping dark gods by sacrificing conquered enemies, the kuo-toa rose from the dark depths only to raid coastal villages, attack ships in harbors, or take slaves.
When the Spellplague swept across Faerun, a crack in the sea floor had drained the Sea of Fallen Stars into the Glimmersea, the Underdark’s ocean. As a result, the kuo-toa ranged ever wider in their marauding.
Swallow lay a hundred yards out to sea. Canvas flew up lines as the crew made ready to sail. Desperate, Shang-Li borrowed Moonwhisper’s sight again as he searched for his father aboard the ship. When the owl glided across the prow, Shang-Li spotted Kwan Yung standing on the prow. His father held a bow and aimed with expert skill. Shaft after shaft sped from his string and transfixed the head of a kuo-toa barely out of the water as they converged on the ship.
Hoarse shouts drew Shang-Li’s attention to a longboat still on shore to his left. Nine sailors put up a defense against that thanks a horde of kuo-toa warriors armed with spears, pincer staffs, and harpoons. Two sailors dug their feet into the soft sand of the bank and shoved the longboat into the incoming waves. The battle at both ends appeared to be a losing one.
Shang-Li shook his fighting sticks into his hands, expanded them, and ran for the kuo-toa as soundless as his shadow. The driving rain hampered his vision and masked the screams and hoarse shouts of the beleaguered men.
A kuo-toa pincer staff caught one of the sailors in the throat. Shang-Li recognized the man from a couple of meals they’d shared in the galley during the voyage. He had been young and inexperienced, excited and scared to be on the voyage.
The man dropped his weapon and grabbed the pincers in an effort to get away, but the kuo-toa warrior lifted his opponent from his feet almost effortlessly. In the next instant, the kuo-toa twisted the pincer staff violently.
The helpless man’s neck snapped like a dry tree branch. The kuo-toa flicked the corpse away as if the dead man were refuse.
Hot anger boiled inside Shang-Li. He pushed it away, pushed away all emotion, and concentrated on his attack. Moonwhisper glided down before any of the kuo-toa grew aware of the owl’s presence. His heavy claws raked the fish-man’s brutal features and gouged his eyes.
Black ichor spread across the kuo-toa’s face. It squalled in pain and fury as it clapped a hand over the wounds. Angrily, it battered its companions aside and came face to face with Shang-Li.
The kuo-toa stood as tall as Shang-Li, but the creature’s body was massively muscled. Even though the kuo-toa was barrel-chested, the fish-man’s head still looked too large for its body. The eyes were huge, round disks, black pupils surrounded by amber pools. There were no lids, only protective membranes that gave the eyes a glossy sheen.
A row of razor-sharp teeth curled from the creature’s large mouth. Heavy black claws stood out from the fingers and toes, as dangers a weapon as any of those the kuo-toa carried. Moss-green scales covered the body and made the bright gold twists worn for decoration stand out even more strongly.
Moonwhisper had blinded the kuo-toa’s left eye so it had to turn its head to look at Shang-Li. Blood leaked between its teeth.
“I kill you,” the kuo-toa threatened in a garbled voice. It lifted its harpoon and shield. Iridescent pink and white, the shield looked like mother of pearl salvaged from a giant clam.
Shang-Li batted his opponent’s harpoon to the side and closed. Another kuo-toa had turned to face him. He slid past the first kuo-toa, then shifted and slammed his back into the fish-man’s iridescent shield. Experience had taught him that the shield was rough and tended to grab opponents. Shang-Li flung his arms out and sank to the ground as the second kuo-toa struck with its spear.
His weight dragged the first kuo-toa’s shield down with him, leaving it exposed. The second fish-man’s spear sank into the chest of the first kuo-toa Shang-Li had engaged.
Shrugging free of the shield, Shang-Li rolled to one knee, and whipped a backward strike to the outside of the kuo-toa’s knee. Despite the creature’s powerful build, knees remained vulnerable. Bone cracked with ear-splitting pops, and the kuo-toa sagged to the side. Before his opponent could manage his failing balance, Shang-Li stood and slammed the other fighting stick into the fish-man’s throat.
Normally the blow would have crushed a human opponent’s windpipe. But the kuo-toa breathed through gills. The fish-man was stunned, but not incapacitated.
The first kuo-toa struggled with the spear embedded in its chest. Using both hands, it had started to pull the weapon from its flesh while howling in pain.
Abandoning its primary weapon, the second kuo-toa pulled a spiked mace from its side and took up a new stance. Knowing he was sandwiched between his two opponents, Shang-Li threw the fighting stick in his right hand as hard as he could at the second kuo-toa’s face. The stick’s iron-capped end struck the fish-man in its low forehead, and ricocheted up as Shang-Li had figured it would do.
He turned while the second kuo-toa was distracted, just in time to see the first kuo-toa pull the spear from its chest. Grabbing the spear with his free hand, Shang-Li propelled it slightly upward and shoved it through the underside of the kuo-toa’s chin. The keen edge slid through the unprotected flesh and up into the kuo-toa’s brain.