Chapter Thirty-Six
The Final Key
Mik and Ula whirled in a frenzy, fighting back-to-back, swinging their weapons and waving their hands, trying to ward off the thousands of miniscule predators. The tiny crustaceans kept coming.
“I’ve heard of the death of a thousand cuts,” Mik said, “but I didn’t think it was administered by crabs.”
“Where’s Shimmer?” Ula asked. “We need Shimmer!”
Mik looked around, but the entangling weeds and the swarm of crabs obscured his vision. “I don’t see him,” he said. “Let’s fight our way to the temple. The tunnel opens up ahead.”
“Right! Ouch!”
“A crab get you?”
“No. I stabbed my leg on this gods-forsaken coral.”
They swam toward the glow from the temple, struggling to avoid the weeds and the razor-sharp coral. Against the swarming, nipping crabs, they made slow progress.
Just as they seemed about to break through, the water around them went dark. A swirling black cloud surrounded them. Horrible shapes lurked in the cloud—things Mik had only glimpsed in the darkest corners of his mind: swarming scavenger eels; black horsemen riding across the desert with scimitars raised high; the mangled, decaying body of old Poul.
Mik tried to swim away, but the nightmares surrounded him. Something grabbed his wrist in the dark. A voice boomed, “Mik!”
He tried to pull away, but the thing’s webbed fingers gripped him like iron. He slashed down with his sword, trying to cut the arm off. “Hey! Watch it!” the voice thundered.
A blue fist flashed out of the darkness and clouted him on the jaw.
Stars flashed before his eyes, and then both the horrible visions and the black cloud vanished. Ula Drakenvaal held Mik’s wrist tightly in her blue fingers.
“It was Shimmer,” she said, shaking him lightly. “He drove the crabs away.” She pointed to an ethereal white cloud of crustaceans receding into the distance.
Mik nodded, remembering what Shimmer had done to Lord Kell’s crew on the deck of Red Wake. Now he knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end. Shimmer hovered nearby, rubbing his left shoulder.
“Where are the others?” Mik asked.
Shimmer peered into the darkness up the canyon. “They’re coming,” he said. “All but the kender.”
A cold hand gripped Mik’s heart. “Trip!” he called. “Where are you?”
“Here I am!” the kender’s happy voice replied. He zipped back into view from beyond the weedy tunnel. “I tried to get the crabs to follow me, but it didn’t work. Sorry.”
“No apologies necessary,” Mik said.
Kell and his warriors returned. Karista Meinor looked very frightened, and her diving briefs hung in tatters, but she didn’t seem much the worse for wear. The brass lord brushed pieces of crab from his armor. Kell’s two warriors trailed behind, tending to their armor and numerous small cuts. The woman looked badly shaken, and the man was very pale.
“Everyone accounted for?” Mik asked.
Kell nodded.
“Good. Let’s get moving before the crabs come back.” Mik turned and swam toward the temple; the others followed.
The thorny coral passageway opened up, and the weeds fell away on each side. Before them, the Temple, in all its drowned glory, rose from the abyssal canyon.
Billowing towers of white steam, ghostly sentinels, surrounded the sunken edifice. Columns of marble and crystal jutted up like broken teeth from the silty sea bottom. Piled on top of them lay the domes of the temple, splendid even in their decay.
Eerie, black-bodied fish with glowing eyes populated the submerged building. Funereal processions of shroudlike jellyfish and squid wound through the columns, slowly chasing one another through the bubbling water.
It was hot. Mick felt the heat even through the enchantment that protected him from the cold pressure of the deep. People did not belong here. Rather, the temple was a stygian landscape reserved for the lost, the cursed, and the drowned. The huge domes and columns looked like titanic cracked eggshells crouching atop piles of bleached bones. These strange tombstones stood in silent procession amid a landscape of pale weeds and broken flagstones. Only the farthest reaches of the temple, at the edge of sight, seemed to retain any cohesion. All the rest looked ravaged, as though by an ancient, undersea war.
Mik looked around the group, to see if anyone else shared his apprehension. Only one of Kell’s brass warriors, standing near the back, fidgeted nervously. The other stood in rapt attention, gazing at the wonders of the ancient structure.
“It’s beautiful,” said Trip.
“And deadly,” Mik added.
“Aye,” said Ula.
“Why build it so deep?” Lord Kell asked.
“Dragons are people of the sea as well as sky,” Shimmer replied.
“It may have sunk more since the building as well,” Mik added. “It’s certainly suffered over the years.”
“It’s still beautiful,” said Trip.
They all stood there for a long moment, drinking in the glory of the submerged temple.
Karista finally broke the silence. “Where do we look for the key?” she asked.
“It’s somewhere in the temple,” Mik said. “Probably the innermost precincts nearest the mountain. The Temple of the Sky was atop the volcano.”
“To treasure now ascend,” quoted Karista.
They took their bearings and swam toward the undersea slopes of the ancient volcano. Far overhead, they saw the shadows of the thorny coral, arching over the temple and forming a cave-like dome.
“I think I see it,” Trip called, flashing ahead of them. “But it’s a bit of a wreck.”
At the base of the mountain, the temple’s blue domes lay smashed and broken like titanic cracked eggshells amid the sturdy columns. The treasure hunters swam swiftly toward the shattered dome at the top of the temple complex. Trip circled the remains of the dome twice before the others arrived.
They hovered a moment outside. Then—taking a deep breath—Mik swam forward through the cracked dome and into the chamber beyond. Ula and the others followed.
Rubble filled the room’s interior. Broken shards of the dome, sand, and pieces of coral littered the floor, nearly filling the room.
“Ouch!” said Ula.
“What?” Mik asked. “More coral?”
“No,” she said. “This accursed thing just got hot.” She unlaced the bejeweled key from the golden chains at her waist and held it in her hand. It glowed brightly.
“The final key must be close,” Mik said. “Maybe under the rubble.”
“You’re right,” Trip said. “Look at my treasure finder!” The trinket was spinning so fast that it churned the water into a froth.
The others settled on the temple floor and began to dig frantically.
“You,” Kell said, pointing to the rearmost guard, “stand watch. Warn us if anything approaches.”
The guard, looking pale and vaguely unsettled behind his brass helmet, nodded and swam back out of the opening. He took up a position near the top of the dome, swimming in slow circles and scanning the surrounding ocean.
Silt quickly clouded the waters of the chamber as the treasure hunters pushed aside the detritus of centuries.
“I’ve found it!” Mik cried, breaking caked mud off some hidden object.
The others gathered ’round as Mik brushed away the last bits of debris.
In his palm lay an intricate golden lacework, similar to the artifacts in Ula’s hand. In its center rested a large, glowing ruby.
“This is it!” Mik said. “The final key!”