Dargonesti

Chapter 11

“How could this have happened?” Coryphene raged. His watch captain, Telletinor, stood rigidly at attention. The warrior had several minor wounds, but he held his stance proudly, eyes fixed ahead.

“Well?” demanded Coryphene. “How did the enemy bring down my wall?”

“They mined under the foundation, Excellence. The first we knew of it was when the center span collapsed.”

“How many were lost?”

“Most of the Silverside regiment. The Sea Horse regiment and the Queen’s Killer Whales were far enough from the wall that they weren’t affected.”

“And no one saw them coming-because I sent Naxos and the sea brothers to some far-off coastline!” Coryphene grabbed his heavy helmet and pulled it on. “Muster all troops! I will lead the guard out myself. I-”

A lightly clad Dargonesti youth, green blood streaming from a gash on his forehead, stumbled up to Coryphene and his assembled officers.

“Excellence … the enemy … at Four Squids Quay!” he panted.

“Zura take them! They’re in the city!” fumed the Protector. He turned to another of his officers. “Kantren, muster the army in the kelp gardens. You are in command. I will take the guard and repel the enemy at Four Squids Quay.” The officer saluted and raced away.

Urione rang with conch shell alarms and the tramp of many feet. Coryphene assembled his iron-armed troops in the fish market square. Ordinary folk had vanished from sight, blocking their windows and doors. Just as five hundred of Coryphene’s personal guard gathered in place, a scream tore the air.

Coryphene spun around and saw a melee spilling into the square. A column of six chilkit were trying to force their way up the street. Blocking their path were a dozen Dargonesti warriors, some of them weaponless. An equal number of fisherfolk, armed with nets and gaffs, had taken up the defense of their homes. From windows facing the street, other Dargonesti bombarded the invaders with stones, pots, and endless torrents of oyster shells. The chilkit, ignoring the onslaught of rubbish, attacked.

“Forward!” Coryphene shouted. Out came five hundred scavenged iron and steel swords.

“Close up there!” he barked. “Bring your shields together! First rank, follow me! The rest, hold here!”

He led fifty warriors at a dead run across the square. The beleaguered defenders were fragmenting. The undisciplined civilians were suffering badly as the chilkit ran them down one at a time. Then Coryphene’s shock troop hit the scene.

The Protector of Urione did not shirk his place in the fore. He fended off a backhand blow by a chilkit claw and slashed at the monster with Vixa’s Qualinesti blade. His first strike cracked the chilkit’s armor shell. The creature gave ground, lashing at Coryphene’s face with its antennae, trying to scratch his eyes. With a quick overhand swipe, he managed to cut off the antennae. The chilkit staggered and collided with the creature on its right. It tried to wrest Coryphene’s shield away. Coryphene relinquished the shield and thrust straight at the monster’s upright torso. A crunch, and the shell gave. Roaring a war cry, Coryphene rammed the blade home and out the chilkit’s back. He put a foot to its chest and recovered his blade. The lifeless creature fell back, twitching in its death throes.

Looking over the scene, Coryphene realized that these six were the only foes in sight. A raiding party, he decided, to draw off his troops from the main attack. He had to get outside.

No sooner was his attention diverted than the chilkit mustered their resolve and resumed their furious attack. Two of them forced their way past the line of Dargonesti swords. The remaining three kept up the pressure on the front. Coryphene ordered his line to fall back.

“Excellence! Shall I summon the rest of the guard?” panted one of his lieutenants.

“For what reason? There are only five of them,” was the acid retort.

The chilkit attacked singly, first from one side, then the other. One Dargonesti was dragged out of place and harried. The other warriors, infuriated, charged on their own initiative. Two chilkit were trapped between the Dargonesti and the houses of the fisherfolk. It took three or four elves to handle one chilkit, but they separated the two monsters and hacked away at them. Coryphene cleaved one creature’s blunt head in two with his sword. Any warm-blooded foe would have dropped instantly, but the chilkit fought on, its actions violent and undirected. Two warriors were knocked down by its flailing limbs. Coryphene’s shield caught a blow that was so strong it bent the tortoise-shell double. Down went the Protector of Urione.

Across the square, Captain Telletinor saw his commander fall. “Close ranks!” he cried shrilly. “At the double, charge!”

A tide of blue-skinned fury blasted across the market to crush the remaining chilkit. Afterward, sorting through the carnage, Telletinor and his brother officers found Coryphene, bruised but undefeated. The chilkit’s last act before expiring had been to fall on top of him, and he had been pinned there, the monster’s corpse too heavy for him to lift.

Tired and dehydrated warriors were lining up at the water spouts to douse their gills. Coryphene walked among them, shouting, “Back in ranks! Back, I say! You’ll be wet soon enough!”

He led the guards to the quay and marched them out into the sea.

Behind him, the fisherfolk emerged from their houses to survey the scene of battle. A dozen Dargonesti lay dead in the square. They were tenderly taken up so the proper rites could be performed. Seawater was poured on the pavements to wash away the blood.

Axes appeared, and the fisherfolk set to lopping the limbs off the dead chilkit. The creatures were crustaceans, after all, just like crabs or lobsters. The sea elves always ate dead chilkit, just as the chilkit would have done to them.

A small spark lit the darkness that shrouded Vixa Ambrodel.

Tiny points of light, like the stars she gazed at from her window in the Speaker’s house, twinkled above her. She floated under a canopy of cold stars. A red disk appeared on the horizon, a great staring eye-no, it was the red moon, Lunitari.

She tried to move. Pain lanced through her chest. Vixa inhaled sharply, found cool air, and coughed seawater. She was on the surface of the ocean! How had she gotten here? The last thing she remembered was escaping from the flooded Nissia Grotto-and drowning! She had drowned!

“Be still. Breathe.”

Stiffly, Vixa turned her head. The face of Naxos hovered close by. His arms held her up, keeping her head above the sea swell.

“Naxos.” Her voice was a raspy croak.

“Be still,” he repeated softly. “You were nearly dead when I found you.”

She swallowed painfully. “Ar-Armantaro,” she hissed. “Where are my companions?”

He shook his head. “I do not know. You were the first one I saw. I used the magic of my necklace to bring you to the surface safely.”

It was strange to feel wind on her face again. The pain in her chest and head gradually faded, but she was so weary she let Naxos continue to support her. He was treading water effortlessly, his long legs scissoring in slow, powerful strokes.

“How goes the battle?” she asked.

“The battle is over, for now. The chilkit have breached the wall. Many hundreds of them occupy the plain around the city. Coryphene was able to keep them out of Urione proper, but he lacks the power to defeat them.”

“A siege.”

“Yes. You and I have our own problems, however.”

You and I. “What problems?”

“Coryphene sent the sea brothers to the coast of Silvanesti to search for a route for Uriona’s invasion. I was called back and arrived in time to see the chilkit on the plain, and all the land-dwellers fleeing the grotto. No wonder, with the chilkit on the loose and a volcano erupting.”

“Volcano? What volcano?”

“In the grotto. There was fire coming from the mouth of the grotto.”

Vixa blinked at him, uncomprehending. Then she remembered. “The gnomefire! Of course, it burns underwater! I’ll wager you’ve never seen fire like that before.”

“You would be right. By its light, I saw you lying on the bottom. Your soul had nearly left your body, so the only thing to do was take you to the surface.”

He was looking at her with an expression Vixa couldn’t read in the dim red moonlight. It disconcerted her. “You said we had problems.”

“Urione is too far away for you to reach without an airshell, and my necklace’s magic is depleted.”

“Couldn’t you change into a dolphin and tow me to land?”

“It’s two hundred leagues at least, but even if I could, would you leave your friends behind?”

He knew her that well at least. She couldn’t leave Armantaro and the rest. She had to know if they were all right.

“Then what can I do?” she asked, anguished.

The unreadable expression returned to his face. “There is a way you can return to Urione,” he said. The usual brash tone was gone from his voice. “It will require you to make a difficult choice, a choice you cannot go back on.”

Cool wind raised goosebumps on Vixa’s exposed skin. “What choice?” she finally asked.

“With my help, you could become a brother of the sea.” His insolent grin flashed for an instant. “Or I should say, a sister.”

“You mean, become a shapeshifter-with gills?”

“A shapeshifter, yes. But you would remain Qualinesti otherwise.”

Strange as the idea was, Vixa also found it surprisingly inviting. She pondered silently as they bobbed in the waves.

“The ability is permanent?” she asked.

“Once I make the spell, it will be with you always.”

“How do I control the transformation?”

“To assume dolphin shape you must be in the sea. Simply form in your mind the image of the dolphin. By concentrating on that image, you will change.”

“And how do I regain my elven body?”

“Call up a vision of yourself on two legs. Whether you are dry or wet, the change will reverse.”

It sounded simple enough, and what choice had she? Unable to return to Urione, unable to leave her friends. What else was there to do?

“I’ll do it.”

Naxos’s golden eyes bored into her brown ones. “Be certain! This is not like the choosing of a gown. This will change you forever.”

She bristled. “I’m a soldier and no stranger to hard decisions. I’ve made up my mind.”

“As you wish.”

From a pouch tied around his waist, Naxos took a small object. By the red moonlight, Vixa saw that it was the tiny image of a dolphin, carved from some lustrous white stone. Naxos told her to lie on her back in the water. She stretched out her legs as he supported her with his left hand under her back. Whispering words in the sea tongue, Naxos touched Vixa’s nose with the beak of the tiny carving. Reaching across her, he touched the side flipper to her right hand, and the other fin to her left. A shiver ran through her.

She stared up at the stars, pushing her fear aside. The tiny points of fire seemed to brighten. Water lapping in her ears carried sounds new and peculiar to her-grunts and wheezes she’d never heard before. Naxos’s voice dropped to a murmur as he continued to touch the ritual carving to Vixa’s body.

Her trembling ceased. Heat flowed through her blood, radiating outward from her heart. Vixa closed her eyes. Her muscles tensed. Her arms were pulled tight to her sides. She felt a moment of panic as she realized she couldn’t move them any longer, but Naxos continued to drone on and on. She grew dizzy, feeling as though she were falling, or perhaps sinking.

Vixa wanted to tell Naxos to steady her, to pull her upright, but instead of words, all that came out of her mouth was a raucous squeak.

Holy Astra! Vixa’s eyes flew open. The world had changed. The stars and moonlight were so bright-it was like daylight! Naxos was no longer treading water beside her. She rolled over, burying her face in the sea. A lean gray shape lolled in the ocean at her side. Naxos.

“Welcome to the sea,” he said. His mouth didn’t move at all, for he spoke in the clicks and whistles of the water-tongue. She understood him as though he were speaking Elvish.

“Naxos? Am I-am I changed?” Intuitively, she also spoke the strange language.

“Of course, silly dryfoot.”

Vixa couldn’t take it in. The change was too enormous. “You’re as powerful a mage as Uriona!” she exclaimed.

She could have sworn that Naxos’s dolphin face frowned at her. “No,” he said harshly. “It is a gift given to me as leader of the sea brothers. It has nothing to do with Uriona or her evil spellcasting.” He rolled sideways and commanded, “Take a deep breath and hold it. Now, follow me!”

Naxos dove. He aimed his long snout almost straight down and drove himself with long sweeps of his flukes. Vixa imitated his posture, awkwardly at first, but quickly discovered that her new body was far more graceful and powerful than her old. She sped into the depths. With her eyes rolled back, she could see her own tail flexing. Her back was black, her flanks and belly snow white.

Another dolphin joined them. “Kios!” Naxos called, “are the brothers back from Silvanesti?”

“We heard of the great battle and came home. Who is this?” asked the other dolphin.

“Vixa, of the land-dwelling elves. She is one of us now.”

Kios ducked under Naxos, coming up on Vixa’s other side. Though they were speeding through the water, Kios maneuvered with ease.

“A land-dweller, become a brother of the sea? Such has not happened in ten lifetimes!” he exclaimed.

“Where are the other brothers?” Naxos asked.

“In the sargasso fields, east of the city. The chilkit have surrounded the city. None of the city-dwellers have ventured out since yestereve.”

“Go there and bid them join me. Now may be the time to compel Coryphene to make concessions to us. The sea brothers are his best hope for defeating the enemy.”

Kios departed. Vixa heard him long after his shape was lost in the dark waters. The sea was a constant symphony of sounds.

Vixa concentrated on keeping up with the larger and faster Naxos. What a sensation it was to be a dolphin! She felt the depth of the water, cleaved it like an arrow. The one giant breath she’d taken at the surface still sustained her. The awful pressure, the burning need for air hadn’t come back. Could natural dolphins hold their breath this long? She would have to remember to ask Naxos.

Before she could, the glow of Urione appeared below them. Naxos slowed. Exuberant with her newfound mobility, Vixa circled the larger dolphin excitedly.

“What are you waiting for?” she chattered.

“I am thinking,” he replied. After a minute, while Vixa continued to swim around him, Naxos said firmly, “Coryphene must not know of your transformation. We might have need of this secret. You should enter the city unseen, in your true form. I will come later and face the Protector.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“If the chilkit are defeated-when the chilkit are defeated-I will lead the sea brothers against Coryphene and Uriona.”

They parted. Vixa swam slowly above the iridescent city shell, looking down on the horde of chilkit spread out around Urione. In the distance, the mouth of Nissia Grotto still belched flame. With all the gnomefire Gundabyr had made, the prison might burn for days.

The sight of the grotto brought back thoughts of her friends. Her excitement over her transformation gave way to fear that Armantaro and the others might not have survived. Immediately, she dove to the lowest level of the city and barreled through an open doorway. As her dolphin head broke the surface, she saw Dargonesti soldiers standing watch. No good. She tried another entrance. The pool there was even more crowded.

On her fifth try she found an empty quay. With two sweeps of her tail, Vixa leapt out of the water and onto the stone ramp. In an instant she felt the difference. The sea no longer buoyed her, no longer cooled her massive body. On land, her elegant dolphin form weighed her down, quickly became uncomfortably hot. Breathing was difficult. Red mist filled her vision. She struggled to follow Naxos’s instructions. Vixa imagined herself standing in front of a full-length mirror. She recreated in her mind an exact reflection of herself-a strong warrior’s body, short blond hair, and honey-brown eyes.

The heat was becoming unbearable. She gasped, forcing all thoughts from her mind except one. You are an elf, she admonished herself. You are Vixa Ambrodel, princess and warrior of the Qualinesti.

A sudden chill shook her, set her teeth to chattering. She stayed her aching jaw with one hand. Hand? She looked down at her arm. The dark shade of her dolphin skin faded as her normal coloring returned. She was elven again!

Vixa sat up. Before, the heat had been intensely painful, now all of a sudden she was freezing. She hugged her knees to her chest, shaking violently.

“You! Drylander! What are you doing?”

She looked up to see a Dargonesti soldier standing in an open archway leading into the city. He challenged her again.

“I c-came here from N-Nissia Gr-Grotto,” she said, forcing the words through rattling teeth.

“You can’t run loose in Urione, drylander. Come with me.”

“I–I’m fr-fr-freezing!” The sea elf gestured for her to get up, but she remained obstinately where she was.

The sea elf shook his head in disgust. He unclasped his cloak and dropped it unceremoniously over her head. Vixa wrapped it around herself, then got to her feet and followed him into the city.

She found herself in the fish market square, on the side opposite to where she and Armantaro had first entered. The square was carpeted with wounded Dargonesti. Sea elves in pale blue robes moved through the mass of injured, tending their hurts. She guessed them to be acolytes of Quen, the goddess of healing.

The warrior led her down a long line of wounded Dargonesti. There were not enough healers to tend them all. Dozens of warriors writhed in pain from claw wounds or lost limbs. She followed the guard until they came to a pavilion set up in the center of the square. Under this awning sat Coryphene, surrounded by warriors and priests. The crowd parted for her. When Vixa reached him, she saw that his cuirass was scarred by blows from chilkit claws. The Protector was being treated for a wound in his left forearm.

“The redshell cut right through my best shield,” he said, seeing the direction of her gaze. The wound went deep into both sides of his forearm. Another inch or so, Vixa overheard the attending priest say, and Coryphene’s arm would have been severed.

“Yes, yes,” was the Protector’s irritable response. To Vixa, he said, “I am surprised you are alive, lady.”

“So am I, Excellence. Is there news of my companions?”

Coryphene’s lips thinned in pain. The healer was dabbing at his wound with a bit of sponge. Steeling himself, he replied, “Few of them survived.”

Vixa’s face whitened. Fear twisted in her stomach. “Who lives?” she whispered.

“The two younger warriors are dead. The dark-haired one drowned. The other died fighting the enemy.”

Harmanutis and Vanthanoris, both gone. “What else?”

Coryphene winced as the healer applied a roll of damp brown seaweed to his arm. “Careful, wretch!” he hissed. The priest drew back in alarm. Coryphene mastered his anger, told the healer to proceed.

“The younger, white-haired warrior, what was his name?”

“Van-” She cleared her throat. “Vanthanoris.”

“He warned my left flank column that the chilkit were in the grotto. He was given an airshell, but would not return to the city. He took a spear from the battlefield and died fighting a chilkit. His warning allowed my army to withdraw to a safer position and prevented a rout. Your Vanthanoris died well. Is he typical of the warriors found in Qualinesti?”

Sunk in misery, she nodded.

“I see.” There was a pause; then Coryphene beckoned to one of his many aides. The Protector said a quick word in the elf’s ear, and the young Dargonesti departed on some errand.

The nervous healer now tried to tie the free ends of the seaweed bandage around Coryphene’s arm. Coryphene made a fist and stared at the healer’s hands while the knot was made fast.

“Enough. Begone!” The priest bowed and fled.

“Excellence,” Vixa said, her heart heavy. “Have you any word of my other companion, Armantaro?”

“He survived. He is in the House of Arms with the other drylanders.” A ray of happiness eased Vixa’s sorrow. Coryphene held out a goblet. One of the soldiers stepped up to fill it with a greenish fluid. Coryphene drank deeply. His face was flushed when he lowered the cup.

“What about you?” he asked suddenly. “How did you survive the chilkit and the sea for so long?”

“Someone helped me,” she said stiffly. “A Dargonesti gave me air. I had to hide in the open ocean until the battle ended.”

Coryphene picked at the ends of his bandage while she talked. When she paused, he asked, still staring at his arm, “Was it Naxos?”

She stiffened in surprise, but feigned ignorance, saying, “Naxos? Your herald? No, Excellence. It was not a dolphin.”

He nodded slowly, apparently satisfied. At that instant the young elf Coryphene had sent away returned. He bore in his arms several items of clothing. Coryphene made a quick gesture, and the elf handed the clothes to Vixa.

“What happened in the grotto?” the Protector asked. “That fire came from no volcano. Was it a chilkit weapon?”

Vixa couldn’t think of any reason to lie, and she was too weary to make an effort. “It was gnomefire, Excellence. A dwarven smith among the prisoners made it from minerals he found in the caverns. We slaves were using it to try to keep warm. Gnomefire burns when it meets water. We were able to kill several chilkit with it.”

“Can he make more, this dwarf?”

“I suppose so-if he’s still alive,” she finished sadly.

“Go to the House of Arms then. Find this dwarf for me. If he can make more of this fire, perhaps we can defeat our ancient enemy. Bear in mind, lady, if we defeat the chilkit, then we’ll have no more need for troublesome dryland labor.”

His words pierced her gloom. “No more need-you mean you’ll set us free?”

“Let us see what your dwarf friend can contrive, shall we?” He turned away and called to one of his soldiers. “Egriun.”

A sea elf with blue-streaked emerald hair stepped out of the pack of warriors. “Take her to the House of Arms,” Coryphene said. “Find the dwarf smith, and see that he gets what he needs to make this … this …”

“Gnomefire,” Vixa supplied.

Egriun gestured for Vixa to precede him. She walked out of the pavilion, and the two of them crossed the square to the central spiral ramp.

“What do you think, soldier?” she asked. “Can you defeat the chilkit?”

“One Dargonesti is worth ten redshells,” Egriun replied. He looked around at the wounded elves covering the square. “But there are fewer Dargonesti left to bear arms.”

“You should arm the citizenry.”

“That rabble? They have no stomach for battle!”

“If they were trained-”

“Might as well train a halibut before putting it on the table. The chilkit would devour them where they stood.”