Chapter Four

The Prophecy

Karista Meinor looked around the assembled crew as she read the ancient parchment. A contagious fervor gleamed in her steely eyes. The sailors before her stood in rapt attention.

There was more to the prophecy, Mik knew, but Karista didn’t read it all to the anxious crew of Kingfisher. She had, in fact, left out the most interesting parts—the sections about the temple and treasure, and the ways to find the hidden riches. The crew didn’t need to know those details.

Mik remained unsure, in fact, if Lady Meinor believed in the prophecy. Possessing the parchment and finding the isles seemed goal enough for her. Perhaps gaining a treasure cache and a huge diamond seemed insignificant to her, at least compared with a trade route to one of the most wealthy lands on Krynn. To Mik, though, the treasure and jewel beckoned… the stuff of dreams.

Karista Meinor rolled up the prophecy scroll and returned it to its watertight case. Then she unfurled a map of the northern ocean, overlaid with a star chart.

“The meaning of the rhymes is clear,” she said. “Following the course outline, steering by the constellations mentioned—Paladine, the Heavenly Palace, The Seven Cities, The Great Silver River—will lead to the Dragon Isles. Do any of you doubt this?”

“Not so long as you’re paying us!” someone called from the back of the crowd assembled below the bridge.

Marlian crossed her slender arms over her chest “I don’t doubt it, Lady Meinor, but I don’t understand this so-called prophecy, either.”

The noblewoman-witch sighed and handed her map to Bok. The big bodyguard nodded deferentially as he took it and held it out before the crowd. Karista pointed at the route with a long fingernail as she spoke.

“The first stanza instructs the reader to sail north beyond known waters to find the isles,” she explained. “The second says to follow the gaze of the constellation Palatine in midsummer to discover the ‘divine’ chart—the map laid out in the stars. The third and fourth indicate the isles he beyond the constellation of the Heavenly Palace, and that you can find them by following the great Silver River in the sky toward the Seven Cities. This evening, the stars of the Seven Cities will be clearly visible in the northeastern sky. When we make the right conjunction, we will be less than two days sail from the isles themselves!”

The crew, even Marlian and Pamak, muttered appreciatively. Mik chuckled. Karista was a good saleswoman; he supposed the talent ran in her wealthy family.

He advanced to the rail beside Lady Meinor and said, “Everyone back to work. Now that you understand our goals, I trust we’ll hear no more mutinous grumbling while we seek our fortunes.”

“We’re with you, captain!” old Poul called out. “Aye!” others added. Marlian and Pamak went back to their business with the rest.

Trip pushed close to study Karista’s star chart, but Bok rolled it up before the kender could get a good look. Trip frowned fiercely; Bok frowned back, fiercer.

“Don’t worry,” Mik said to his small friend, “you’ll have a chance to study it, soon enough.” Then to Karista and Bok he added, “Bring the chart to the map room. I want to check our bearings before the sun sets. C’mon, Trip.” He turned and went down the short stairway from the bridge to the quarterdeck. Trip went with him. Karista and Bok followed.

“I see no reason the kender should be included in this,” Bok said, as they entered the map room below the bridge.

“No matter how he came aboard,” Mik replied, “Trip is part of our crew now. I know him well and can vouch for him, but Pm sure he’ll more than prove his worth to you before the voyage ends.”

The big bodyguard frowned. “I’ll have to keep a careful watch on my pockets,” he said.

Trip’s hazel eyes brightened. “Why? Is there something in them that I should know about?”

Bok reddened and looked as though he might strike the kender. “Shut your hole, you little—”

Mik stepped between them. “Karista,” he said smoothly, “if your man can’t control his temper, then perhaps he should go elsewhere.”

Karista laid her long, tan fingers on Bok’s arm. “Don’t worry,” she purred. “Nothing the little one ‘borrows’ can wander very far. Where could a kender hide aboard ship?”

Bok nodded and laid the star map on the table in the center of the open-walled room. Mik rolled it open and studied it. Trip crowded in near the captain’s elbow and peered intently at the lines, colors, and notations. He considered himself a map expert.

“I see you’ve marked the passages from the Prophecy on the map,” Trip said appreciatively. “But there were a lot more lines on that scroll than the ones you read to the crew. What about the rest of it?”

Bok glowered, and looked as though he might step in again, but a motion of Karista’s shapely hand kept him in place. “The remaining stanzas are of no importance to finding the isles,” she said calmly. “They deal with navigation within the archipelago to a specific destination. They are hard to fathom and seem of little import.”

“I’m sure you’re correct,” Mik said, though that was the part of the prophecy that interested him most.

Karista Meinor laughed—a low, sensual sound. “I know, captain, that you believe the remaining stanzas lead to a precious treasure,” she said. “No buried hoard, though, could match the wealth to be gained from opening the Dragon Isles to trade with the mainland. I’ve compensated you fairly, and I trust that you will be able to keep your mind focused on our mutual goal.”

“Any ambitions that I might harbor on my own,” Mik replied evenly, “are secondary to the goals of this voyage. My personal views will not interfere with how I run this ship.”

Bok snorted skeptically and crossed his arms over his wide chest. He looked from Mik to Trip, and then frowned. Frowning, Trip thought, was what the big bodyguard did best.

Mik scowled back. “I know from which direction the wind blows, milady, and I’ve no desire to sail any other course.”

Karista nodded. “Good. I’ll leave you to your work then. Come, Bok.” She turned, left the map room, and went to the hatch amidships. Bok followed. With a final suspicious glance from Bok, the aristocrat and the bodyguard went below deck to Karista’s cabin.

Mik strolled to the edge of the room and watched their retreat. Then he turned and gazed toward the golden sun, already sinking low in the west.

“So we’re getting close,” Trip said, from near his elbow.

“Very close,” Mik said, nodding. He went back to the map table, rolled up the star chart, and put it in its case. He then deposited the case in its slot below the table’s surface, next to the other maps they anticipated using during the voyage. “I’ll make our final course adjustment after the stars come out tonight. By tomorrow, we’ll be well on our way to fulfilling the first part of the Prophecy.”

“What about the rest of it, though?” Trip asked.

Mik arched one black eyebrow. “What about it?”

“Sounds kind of mysterious to me. I get the feeling that you’re more interested in it than you let on.” He grinned.

Mik laughed. “C’mon,” he said. “I want to show you something.” He walked through the door leading into his cabin at the back of the map room.

Trip closed the door behind them, and Mik knelt down to open his sea chest.

“If you’re going to show me that nice piece of jewelry with the big black diamond in it,” Trip said, “I’ve already seen it.”

Anger flashed over Mik’s tan face for a moment but the feeling quickly passed and he smiled. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“No. You shouldn’t,” Trip replied. “I stumbled across it when I was looking around the other day.”

“Stumbled across it in a locked box.”

The kender, nodded. “I noticed that you had it wrapped in a copy of Karista’s prophecy. What is it? Where did you find it?”

“Very little escapes you,” Mik said.

“That’s one of the reasons why I’m so useful to have around, I guess.”

“I found the artifact a number of years ago, while diving the coral reefs north of Jotan.” As Mik spoke, the memories came flooding back: the clear blue waters, fingers of colorful coral stretching toward the shimmering surface above, sunfish and spotted dominoes darting all around. And, amid the underwater glory, a strange wrecked galley—like none he’d ever seen before. The galley’s lines were long and curved—its sides covered with scale-like clinking. Its bow was formed in the shape of a golden dragon.

The gold, though, was only paint on the wooden hull. The wreck yielded few treasures—mostly pottery, except for the looping artifact with the black diamond center. Mik had claimed it as his share for the voyage. The memory faded away.

Mik pulled the artifact out of the box within his sea chest. “I suspect it came from the Dragon Isles,” he said to Trip. “I think it’s part of a key to finding our way in.”

“Hey, that Prophecy says something about keys, doesn’t it?” Trip asked. He took the paper that lined the artifact’s box and unfolded it. The writing on the vellum was a copy of the Prophecy Karista had read on deck earlier—including the parts she had omitted.

“Four keys, if I’m reading it right,” Mik said, “and where to discover them.”

“And what happens when we locate these four keys?” Trip asked.

A smile drew over Mikal Vardan’s bearded face. “Then we find the treasure,” he replied.

As the two old friends talked and looked over the artifact and the Prophecy, the sun sank toward the horizon. The waves of the Turbidus Ocean reached up, seeming to caress the golden orb. As the water touched the sun, the sea burst into brilliant, flaming color. The heavens turned crimson and the clouds pulled mantles of purple and orange around themselves against the coming night.

The first stars peeked out from under the sky’s cerulean blanket, winking at Kingfisher passing far below.

Mik Vardan left his cabin, strode to the bridge, and took some bearings. Then he took the helmsman’s place at the tiller and adjusted the ship’s heading. Trip climbed atop the mast to the lookout post and gazed toward the silhouetted horizon.

“Adjusting our heading?” Karista asked, appearing unheralded beside Mik.

The captain nodded. “Tomorrow,” he said, “or the day after at the latest, we should be sailing the course set by the Prophecy.”

“May the lost gods be with us,” Karista Meinor whispered.

“Or if they’re not with us,” Mik said, “I hope they’ll at least stay out of the way.”

Mikal Vardan did not sleep well that night His dreams were filled with storm-tossed isles, drowned temples, and approaching typhoons. A blue-white diamond glittered in the darkness, like a beckoning star—but it seemed not to shed any light on the chaos surrounding him. Mik kept reaching for the gem, but it darted away—ever just beyond his fingertips.

He woke to find the hour before dawn bright and clear, the stars still beaming down, painting Kingfisher with their wan light. To the east, where the sky met the sea, a pale, greenish glow presaged the coming of the day. A cool salt breeze greeted the captain as he left his cabin. The scent of brine thrilled his nostrils, as the morning air danced over his flesh, raising goosebumps on his tanned skin.

Trip slept quietly in the rigging far above, his tiny form leaning against the topmost reach of the main mast. Mik shook his head fondly; it was pointless to try and stop the kender from sleeping aloft. Trip was as much at home clinging to ropes overhead as he was free-diving in the sea below. The kender would sooner roll off the spar and die of a bad dream than sleep on deck. Mik shook his head again.

He walked to the bridge and spoke with the night helmsman, checking that they hadn’t deviated from the course he set. He took a brief tour of the caravel’s small decks, making sure all was in order. Satisfied, he returned to his cabin and broke his fast—dining on bread, cheese, preserved spiced apples, and a bit of red wine.

Dawn crept over the ship as he ate. As he was finishing, a commotion broke out on deck; the sounds of the crew talking excitedly and feet stamping across the planking echoed through Mik’s cabin.

Then the kender’s clear voice rang out above the rest:

“Wreckage off the starboard bow!” Trip called. “I think there’s a body, too! It looks like a woman!”