Chapter Thirty-Four

An Uneasy Alliance

“Milord!” Karista gasped, eyeing the artifact nervously.

“I mean it,” Mik said, as Tanalish swooped closer. “I’ll drop it and neither you nor your dragon pals will ever see it again.”

“Hold, Tanalish!” Kell cried. “Don’t kill them.”

The harpy-like dragon backed her wings and hovered overhead. “They are worms, Benthor Kell,” she said. “They deserve death. If he drops the trinket, I will find it again.”

“Call her off,” Mik repeated. “Then maybe we can talk.”

Benthor Kell glared at Mik, then Ula. “Very well,” he said, not taking his eyes off the sea elf. “Leave them, Tanalish.”

The dragon’s green eyes flashed, but she said, “As the will of my lord, so is your own, Benthor Kell.” She landed on the deck and resumed her human form—though the damage from her battle with Shimmer had scarred her perfect face and figure.

“Send your warriors back to your ship, first,” Mik said.

“Your dragon can look after them,” added a familiar voice. Battered and bloody, Ula slowly lifted herself off the deck and stood beside Mik.

Tanalish glanced warily from Ula and Mik to Lord Kell. “Do not trust them, Benthor Kell,” the dragon warned.

“I don’t,” Kell replied. “See to the ship. I’ll call if I need you.”

The dragon nodded and withdrew, along with Kell’s brass warriors.

Jerick pulled a red kerchief from his pocket and mopped his face. “If you don’t mind,” he said, “I’ll secure my ship against the storm. Plenty of time for parley once this blows over.”

“We’ll wait,” Kell said.

“I thought you might,” Mik replied.

The storm rolled back by midnight, and the clouds parted just enough for the silver moon to peek through. Sporadic rain still dappled the waves, but the winds died down and the surf ebbed considerably.

The crews of both ships worked diligently to return their vessels to fighting trim, and soon repaired most of the major problems. Tanalish kept watch on the bridge of the brass galley, while Lord Kell and the others met in Jerick’s cabin aboard Red Wake.

Ula’s wounds were superficial; the bronze dragon’s injuries were grave, but Red Wake’s excellent healer patched him back together with bandages and herbs. By midnight, Shimmer felt well enough to join the parley.

The two factions stared at each other from opposite sides of the room, while Jerick sat in the middle, trying to arbitrate. The bronze knight leaned against a wall, his visor closed, his orange eyes grim. Mik, Ula, and Trip stood near him, unwilling to relax in the presence of their enemies.

“My old friends,” Karista said. “I’m so sad that we’ve reached this impasse. As I see it, you need our protection and aid as much as we need the jeweled key. If we are to ally, each ship should gain equal shares.”

“Before we parted,” Mik said, “you told me you had no interest in the treasure.”

Karista shrugged. “Situations change. You know that, Mik. The treasure is the dowry I need to win a trade concession. I know the Prophecy as well as you. I hired the expedition that brought us here. It’s only right that I should share in the proceeds.”

“Fish oil!” Mik said. “The chance for the treasure was the price I agreed to when you hired me.”

“That, and the retirement of your previous debts,” Karista said. “That was, of course, before you sank my ship.” “I sank your ship!”

“Well get nowhere hashing over old accounts.” Jerick said, interrupting this argument, not for the first time. “The point is, why fight over this loot if there’s enough to share?”

“Perhaps you can find this treasure without us,” Kell replied, “and perhaps we can claim it without you. However, you’re fools if you think we’ll just row away and leave you to it. We can stay at sea much longer than you can; Tanalish is our supply line. We’ll wait you out if we have to.”

“You forget,” Mik said, “we still have the key.”

“Now, now,” Jerick said. “No need to get hostile again. It seems fair to me that we should divide the treasure between our ships. The question remaining is, how to make the division?”

“I’ll take nothing less than half,” Kell said.

“Nor will I,” Karista added.

“So, we give you half, or you dog us until we quit?” Mik said.

Kell nodded.

“Since the Order patrols these waters and keeps them safe,” Jerick said, “a half share seems fairly reasonable.”

“But no more brawling or back-stabbing,” Mik said. “Everyone gives up their grudges and works together. Otherwise we’ll refuse. I won’t have the Order plotting against us while we search, or after we’ve found the loot. I’ll throw the key into the ocean before I allow that. We split anything we recover in half, then everyone walks away with no hard feelings.”

“Agreed,” Karista said, smiling.

“And the brass dragon goes,” Ula added.

“Preposterous,” Kell replied.

Mik shook his head. “Ula’s right. Either Tanalish goes away, or the deal is off. She’s too big an advantage for your side. I won’t have you playing her against us when things get rough.”

“What about your dragon then?” Karista asked pointedly.

“Shimmer is part of our crew—and he’s wounded besides,” Mik said.

“The dragon goes,” Ula insisted.

Karista smiled sweetly at Kell. The brass-armored lord nodded slowly.

“Good,” Mik said. “And keep your other spies at a distance, too. This deal is between our ship and yours—not between us and the Order of Brass.”

“Very well,” Kell said flatly. “I suppose you’ll want to sail in the lead.”

“Of course,” Mik replied. “Do you think we’d give you the key?”

“No more than I’d care to let you out of my sight,” Kell said.

“But you and the Lady Meinor can be our guests for the duration of the voyage, Lord Kell,” Jerick said. “I assume you have a mate capable of piloting your ship?”

Kell exchanged a glance with Karista, and nodded.

“Shall we start, then?” Karista asked, fiddling absent-mindedly with the braid on the sash at her waist.

“A grand idea,” Jerick replied. “First, though, a drink to seal the bargain.”

He tapped a cask of ale, and they drank a round—though only Jerick seemed to enjoy it.

Lord Kell did dismiss Tanalish. The lady dragon seemed none too pleased about the arrangement, but she bowed curtly and did as she was told. Only after she’d disappeared into the high clouds did Mik and the others breathe a sigh of relief.

“I think it’s time to reveal the rest of the Prophecy,” Mik said. He, Ula, Trip, Shimmer, Jerick, Kell, and Karista stood gathered on Red Wake’s bridge, under the wan light of the beclouded stars. “Will you do the honors, Lady Meinor?”

“Certainly,” she said. She rolled up her silk sleeves, took a deep breath, and began to recite:

She finished with a smile, showing her straight white teeth.

“We’ve sighted the War Hound constellation,” Mik said.

“And now we sail to the Isle of Fire,” Kell said impatiently. “Yes, yes, we know that.”

“The storm has slowed us, but we should reach the isle soon,” Mik said. “When we get there, the fourth key is our objective. I believe that it lies beneath the waves, in ‘deepest night.’ Trip and I are experienced divers; Ula and Shimmer are used to working beneath the waves as well.”

“How will we find the key, though?” Karista persisted.

Mik smiled roguishly. “I need to save some surprises for later, don’t I?”

Mik, Jerick, and Kell took sightings on the War Hound once more, and both ships set sail for the Isle of Fire.

By morning it was pouring again. Jerick eyed the western horizon, worrying that the storm might build to gale force once more. Mik and Ula wondered if the burgeoning clouds hid the Order’s dragonish spies.

The rain didn’t dampen Trip’s spirits—though it did increase the stench of his sea serpent cloak. Everyone except his friends avoided him, but Trip was having too much fun to notice. He frequently consulted his treasure finder. The only time it spun, though, was when it came too close to Ula, who had reattached the jeweled key to her clothing, or Jerick’s money purse.

Lord Kell kept careful watch on the crew of the Red Wake and on his own galley, trailing close behind them.

Karista Meinor stayed close to Lord Kell, speaking to him in hushed tones and frequently looping her arm around his. Mik thought that even without the treasure, she had a pretty fair chance of landing her trade deal.

Ula kept watch on Kell and his ship, and scanned the storm-tossed skies for signs of Tanalish or other dragons. The sea elf seemed edgy and full of energy. “I hate waiting,” she told Mik. “I’d rather fight my way to a treasure than hang around a ship.”

Mik nodded. “You may soon get your wish.”

For a day and a half they traveled east. They’d passed beyond all sight of land now, though they were still within the protective influence of the Veil.

“Look at the storm,” Jerick said, pointing east to a towering bank of thunderheads. “That’s where the Veil ends.”

Mik squinted into the black clouds. “I see the island,” he said. “It’s almost the same color as the clouds.” He pointed, and Jerick followed with his eyes.

“Aye,” he said, a faint smile cracking his red beard. “Can’t say I like the look of the place.”

“You’ll like the look of its treasure, though,” Mik replied.

“Aye.”

By mid-afternoon they’d drawn close to the island’s rocky shores. The Isle of Fire was a volcanic peak jutting nearly straight up out of the surging sea. Its almost sheer sides were black, craggy, and unforgiving. Only at the very bottom did a few sparse copses of vegetation cling to its meager shore. The eastern side of the mountain had fallen away, leaving a large V-shaped gully in the side of the escarpment. A faint red glow emanated from within the crack, making the island look as though it peered toward the sunrise with an eerie red eye. Within the volcano, the immense fires that had helped forge the the Veil still burned bright.

“Where is this supposed lost temple?” Kell asked skeptically.

“It’s hidden,” Mik replied. “It’s been hidden for centuries.”

“If it wasn’t,” Ula said, “someone would have taken the treasure long ago.”

“The water is very deep here,” Jerick said. “More than fifty fathoms. Are you sure diving is the right way to proceed?”

“The final hallowed key, Illumes the deepest night, At lord of fire and sea, Seek pillars’ sacred might,” said Karista.

“The Prophecy, and the visions I’ve had, make me think we’re looking for a temple under the sea,” Mik said.

“Sacred pillars in the deep,” Trip added smartly.

Jerick rubbed one callused hand across his balding red pate. “Well, it’s your necks,” he said. “I’ll set anchor and keep an eye on things.” He shouted for his men to do so, and both his and Kell’s ship anchored well clear of the island’s dangerous shores.

“I’ll summon my divers,” Kell said. He moved to the rail and whistled a signal to his brass-armored ship. A dozen warriors appeared in shell-like helmets and diving gear.

“Oh, no,” Mik said. “You’re not going to outnumber us down there. Pick just three other divers besides yourself, Lord Kell.”

Kell gazed into Mik’s brown eyes; Mik didn’t blink.

“Very well,” Kell said slowly. “Will you be coming, milady?”

Karista Meinor nodded. “If you will loan me a helmet,” she said. “I’ve not been able to replenish my supply of magical seaweed.”

“And it tasted terrible anyway,” Trip put in.

“Are you up for it, Shim?” Ula asked.

The bronze knight stood and slowly stretched. He’d removed his bandages, but his shoulder didn’t seem quite healed.

Mik worried about the dragon-man’s usefulness in a fight, but said only, “Everyone, prepare yourselves. We’ll meet at the rail in twenty minutes.”

Kell nodded and signaled for a longboat to ferry his equipment and two divers over to Red Wake.

Mik put on his enchanted fish necklace. He hadn’t worn it since they’d left Aurialastican. His fingers traced the empty pockmarks where there had once been jeweled scales. The magic felt weak and tentative. He hoped it would be enough to complete at least one final task.

“You’re sure this cloak of yours works, Trip?” he asked.

“Better than your feeble old necklace,” the kender replied, pulling the serpent skin tight around his small body. “I’ll swim circles around the rest of you.”

Kell, Karista, and two brass-garbed warriors joined them at the rail. They all wore uncomfortable-looking brass helmets in the shape of sea huge seashells with clear quartz faceplates. The strange helmets complimented the design of the warriors’ sparse brass armor. Karista just wore the helmet and a brief swimming outfit, but looked uncomfortable, nonetheless.

“Very nice,” Ula said. “Can you actually hear or speak in those things?”

“Well enough,” Kell replied, his voice sounding metallic and distant. “Thrakdar himself helped forge them; their magic is strong. Do not worry on our account.”

Mik nodded. “Then down, down to the briny deep, where sharks hold court and sailors sleep,” he said, reciting an old diver’s saying.

He was the first to step to the rail and plunge over the side.