The Emerald Scepter

CHAPTER 9

"This way!" Pilos gasped, turning and sprinting through a gap in a thick hedge. Behind him, Quill, the three mercenaries, and the druid Edilus scurried after him. Pilos's lungs burned and he thought he would collapse soon from exhaustion. The other five men didn't seem badly winded, though the dwarf Grolo was huffing pretty hard as he charged along on his stumpy shorter legs.

I'm soft, Pilos realized. Temple life is too cushy.

When he could run no further, the young priest dropped in a heap among some ferns and plantain trees that created a dense tangle, shielding the world from view. Beside him, the others gathered around, and Pilos was at least thankful to see the men breathing hard, hands on hips or knees. They stood without speaking. Aside from a few distant and muffled shouts, no one seemed to be getting closer to their hidden location.

"I think we lost them," Adyan drawled in a quiet voice, twisting his head to look back through the foliage the way they had come. "I don't hear anyone anymore."

"Good," Pilos muttered, flopping onto his back. "Because if they were still back there, I'd have to surrender."

Don't you dare, Hetta said, displeasure radiating from the ring. Emriana needs you.

I know, Pilos answered. I wouldn't really. But I'm worn out.

"City folk don't know how to run," Edilus said, his scorn obvious. Pilos looked over at the druid and noted with displeasure that the woodsman was breathing easily, looking at the rest of them as though impatient for them to get moving.

"You're right," Horial said, speaking between hard breaths. "We're more civilized, and we've figured out how to use things like wheels."

That elicited a soft chuckle from some of the others, which only made the druid scowl more. Since he had met the strange woodsman, Pilos had not seen him smile. He wondered if Edilus was capable of it.

"We can't stay here," Horial said, rising to his full height. "They will find us. We have to get over the wall and out into the city."

Pilos groaned and sat up. "I can barely lift my feet, much less climb a wall. It has to be twenty feet high!"

"Maybe you have some trick up your sleeve that will get us over it," Horial suggested, looking askance at the young priest.

Pilos shrugged and shook his head. "I'm not a battle priest," he said, climbing slowly to his feet. "I served Mikolos personally before-" he stopped, feeling bitter. He took a deep breath. "The Grand Syndar rarely had a need to climb over palace walls," he finished, eliciting another chuckle from the mercenaries.

"There are trees," Quill said. "We might be able to climb one."

Grolo snorted. "Have you ever seen a dwarf climb a tree?" he asked gruffly, to which Quill shook his head. "There's a reason for that," the dwarf finished, giving the man a pointed stare.

Even Edilus cracked a hint of a smile. Then the druid said, "I have rope. If we can get to this wall and there are trees close by, I will get to the top and pull the rest of you over."

Pilos didn't feel it wise to point out that he hoped the guards would give them a sporting chance once they got to the wall. He figured they would work that part out once they got to it.

"Come on," Horial said, and Pilos climbed to his feet. "If they haven't figured out where we ducked out of sight yet, they will soon enough."

Together, the six men moved through the brush, trying to pass beneath the thick overgrowth that surrounded them without much noise. From time to time they heard a shout in the distance, guards who were coordinating with one another as they searched for the fugitives.

At one point, Horial and Adyan paused, giving each other a strange look. The six men had reached the bank of a small pond, the other side of which was open ground. In order to skirt the water, the group would have to move into the open, but that wasn't what concerned the two men. Pilos started to ask what was wrong, but they both shook it off and motioned for everyone to keep moving.

The six of them navigated the perimeter of the water and ducked back into the greenery, moving as quietly as they could. At one point, Edilus motioned for them all to freeze, then he slipped away, so silent as he disappeared that the young priest wasn't certain he was touching the ground at all.

They waited, no one moving, and heard a voice not far ahead of them. A second voice joined the first, and there was the sound of a conversation, though the discussion was muted enough that Pilos could not make it out. The longer they crouched in wait, the faster his heart beat.

Easy, Hetta said. You'll send yourself to an early grave fretting like that.

Pilos was too worried to answer the elderly woman.

Edilus returned, motioning for the rest of them to follow him. Pilos got to his feet and kept close behind the druid as he led them the rest of the way through the dense foliage. They reached the edge of the protective screen of greenery and saw that a peach orchard stood beyond, the ground open and more visible and the trees aligned in nice, even rows. No one seemed to be near, and the light of dawn was enough to reveal a wall on the far side.

"Sets of steps lead up to the top in various places along the wall," Edilus whispered to them, "and they are being watched by guards. But right there," he said, pointing toward the section that Pilos and the others could see, "the spot is vacant. No one watches. If we can get there without being seen, I can get to the top and we will be out."

"And if we can't get there without being seen?" Horial asked, eying the druid. "What then?"

"Then we fight," the druid answered.

For a moment, no one said anything, then Horial shrugged. "Sounds like a plan to me."

Making sure that all six of them were ready, Edilus stepped out of the undergrowth and moved into the orchard. The druid crept from tree to tree, looking in every direction, watching for guards. The rest of the men trailed out behind him, using the trees for cover as he did. Dew coated the coarse grass growing in the orchard, glistening in the early morning light.

Pilos felt his hands shaking in apprehension, worrying that at any moment, someone would spot them. He kept waiting for a guard patrolling the area to come into view, to see him or the other men, and shout a warning to others.

When the young priest was halfway across the open space, as far from the protective canopy of the bushes as from the wall, Edilus signaled for everyone to halt and stay low. Pilos hit the ground, his heart thumping. He tried to look around to see what had startled the druid, but he didn't see anyone else in sight. Finally, Edilus rose up and continued, and the others rose with him.

Somehow, they all reached the wall without raising the alarm.

As they gathered together in a clump, Edilus produced a small charm, something woven of bones, feathers, and green vines, and he began to murmur as he moved it in intricate patterns. Behind him, Pilos heard the sound of ripping earth and snapping twigs, and he turned in time to see a rippling wall of plant growth rise up from the ground. The barricade of greenery twisted, wrapped, and thickened as it climbed, forming a nearly solid wall of protection against the rest of the orchard. It stopped growing when it was a good ten feet high, and it stretched between two of the closest peach trees, intertwining with their lowest branches. It formed an enclosure perhaps twenty feet long and about five feet wide with both ends open.

"That ought to keep us hidden for a few moments longer," Edilus said, examining the wall.

"Can you climb it?" Pilos asked. Until he had reached the wall, he was never certain that he might escape. Standing at the base of it, though, he began to feel some sense of hope.

"Yes," Edilus said, then he dropped to all fours and his physical shape began to alter. As Pilos watched, mesmerized, the druid elongated, his clothing and equipment absorbed into his form. His skin turned green and scaly. In the span of a breath, Edilus had become a lizard perhaps four feet long, not including his tail.

The lizard turned and scampered up the wall to the top. Once he was there, Edilus reverted to his human form and stood looking down at the men below him with a self-satisfied grin on his face.

That's twice now he's smiled, Pilos thought. Maybe he's human after all.

The druid yanked a coil of rope from his shoulder and tied one end of it around his waist. Then he motioned for Pilos to start up. "You first," he said, sitting down and bracing his feet as best as he could. "You're the lightest, and you can help hold it for the rest of them."

Pilos took hold of the rope and began to haul himself up, bracing his feet against the stone to help guide himself. It was not easy, for he was not adept at scaling walls, but he struggled to the top. Once he managed to swing his leg over and scramble to a sitting position, Edilus instructed him to sit behind him, grab hold of the druid's belt, and lean backward. Pilos hurried to comply, and once he was in position, the others began to clamber up the rope, too.

Once all six of them had attained the top of the wall, they prepared to lower themselves over the other side.

Horial, Adyan, and Grolo made it down easily, and Quill prepared to work his way down the wall next.

"Hurry," the druid hissed, looking back over his shoulder into the Generon. "Guards are coming. Go now, before we are spotted."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that," a familiar voice called from nearby.

Feeling his stomach turn somersaults, Pilos's gaze was pulled toward a movement to his side. Junce Roundface was on top of the wall, walking toward the three of them. He must have appeared there magically, for a moment before, they had been alone. Junce had a crossbow in his hands, and he was smiling, though the expression had a definite lack of joviality.

A scuffling of boots in the opposite direction caught the priest's attention next. Looking that way, the Abreeant saw Laithe strolling toward the three men. She held a wand in her hands.

The wizard saw Pilos looking at her and smiled at him. "Looks like the rat is not quite out of the trap, yet, eh?" she said. "I owe you one," she added, not smiling any longer. "For Lak and Borth."

As the two thugs closed the distance, narrowing the gap, Pilos looked back and forth between the two of them in dismay. Beside him, Quill got to his feet and seemed prepared to pull his sword free, but Junce steadied his crossbow and sighted down it.

"I wouldn't," the assassin warned. "You're not fast enough."

The strum of a bow firing sounded from street level and a crossbow bolt zipped upward at Junce. The missile flew true and struck Junce in the ribs, right under his arm, but it bounced away. Grolo, who had fired the shot, swore.

Junce chuckled. "You didn't think I'd actually get up here just so you could take target practice, did you?" and quick as a cat, he turned and returned the shot, sending the bolt right at Grolo's chest. The bolt struck true and sank into the dwarf's flesh, causing him to grunt.

As Pilos watched in horror, Grolo wavered on his feet for a moment, staring at the fletching on the end of the bolt, and his own crossbow slipped from his fingers and he sat down hard.

"Waukeen," the dwarf muttered as he tipped over, slumping to the ground.

Junce's shot had been quick, precise, but it had taken his attention away from the three men in front of him. That was all the opening anyone needed, and all around Pilos, chaos ensued.

Edilus freed the rope from his waist and was on his feet in an instant. Yanking his scimitar free, he turned and advanced toward Junce, not giving the assassin time to reload. The other man smiled again, tossed his empty weapon aside, and drew his own blade. At the same moment, Junce put something in his mouth and produced a loud, shrill whistle.

A signal, Pilos realized in dismay. Summoning the guards.

"Go on!" Quill said to the priest, leaping to his feet. "Get down!" And the mercenary was turning away, drawing steel, facing off against Laithe.

Pilos glanced around, seeing everyone moving at once, and hesitated. Adyan and Horial were both shooting at the wizard, but like Junce, the missiles bounced off. She seemed more concerned by Quill's approach, however, and backed away as he tried to close the gap. Laithe brought up her wand and aimed it at the mercenary, and a blob of something sickly green streaked forth from it, fanning out until it was a spray. The droplets showered over Quill, who arched his back in pain and cried out, dropping to one knee.

Pilos winced, realizing the caustic substance must have been an acid, and wanted to go to the man, to soothe his pain with a healing touch. But Quill wasn't done yet. Staggering, he managed to rise, and Laithe leveled her wand to give him another dose.

She wasn't quite fast enough.

Quill threw himself at the woman, wrapping his arms around her just as her magical device burped forth another blob of acid. Quill smacked into the blob head-first, causing it to dribble on himself and spatter back onto Laithe. She screamed as she stumbled back, Quill still clinging to her.

In a dual cry of pain, the pair went over the side of the wall to the street below.

Horrified, Pilos could only watch the two combatants disappear. Then he realized that the two mercenaries were yelling at him.

"Come on!" Horial yelled. "Just drop!"

Pilos glanced over at where Edilus was still fighting with Junce, and he saw a stricken look upon the assassin's face. The priest realized that Junce had seen Laithe go down, too. In his distress, he did not keep his guard up, and Edilus managed a lucky strike, cutting into the man's sword shoulder.

With a primal cry of pain and anger, Junce swung back at the druid, but his attack was awkward. Edilus bounced out of the way. With a curse, the assassin said something and vanished.

A crossbow bolt whizzed past Pilos's ear, and he saw then that guards had drawn near the base of the wall on the inside of the Generon grounds. He noticed more guards running down the street from both directions along the wall, closing in on the fugitives' position.

Jolted into action, Pilos tried to figure a way to lower himself down, but nothing prominent was available to anchor the rope. Just when he thought he might have to hang over the side and jump, Edilus was there. Thankfully, Pilos handed him the rope.

"No time," the druid said as another bolt flew past them. Reaching out, Edilus grabbed Pilos by the collar and shoved, and the two of them tumbled over the side of the wall together.

Vambran watched the waves crash against the rocks below him, squinting as the morning sun made the water glint. The smell of salt carried on the fresh breeze was strong, and the humidity was high, but the mercenary didn't mind. It felt clean to him.

Below him, among the rocks, Arbeenok prowled about, scooping up shellfish for a morning meal. The druid had a bundle of them already, and Vambran doubted the two of them could ever finish what was in that bulging satchel, but then his stomach rumbled and he grinned at the thought of such a feast. He had been eating nothing but dried meat and bread-when he wasn't being fed bugs by the druids, of course-and looked forward to a different sort of meal. The majestic scenery coupled with the warm morning was almost enough to let the mercenary forget all the difficulties of the last few days.

Almost.

The two of them had traveled west and south from Reth, speeding along the shoreline, until they reached a point of land that stuck way out from the coast into the Reach. They weren't far from where Lady's Favor had gone down, Vambran had realized, noting the miles and miles of beach below them as Arbeenok had swooped closer to land. The lieutenant wasn't sure what prompted his companion to alight on the outcropping of rock, but it seemed as good a place to start as any.

The next question, of course, was how to travel below the water effectively.

Vambran considered the possibilities, then settled down to pray to Waukeen while Arbeenok continued to gather food. The mercenary's thoughts were troubled, though, for he didn't merely want to ask for his goddess's blessings in the form of divine power. He needed more than just spells. He needed some sense of understanding, some feeling of peace, for all of the horrors he had endured in the last few days. A tiny part of him wanted some answers from Waukeen, to understand why she would allow those tragedies to pile up around him.

Rather than dive right in and begin asking for solace, Vambran started slowly, settling into a meditative trance. For a long time, he felt nothing but a growing sensation of tranquility, listening to the waves crashing against the rocky beach and the gulls screaming as they circled overhead. He imagined the sun bathing his face as his goddess's glorious radiance showering down upon him, and he found a center. He began to look inward, for he often found that the best answers to his most spiritual questions welled up from his heart, from his own sense of faith. He hoped that would be the case that morning.

Why? was the question that had been plaguing Vambran. Why me? Why has all of this been thrust upon me? Did I in some way fail you? Did you want to see my life take such a turn for some reason I cannot fathom at the moment? Is this a punishment for some transgression?

Once the question was clear in his mind, Vambran began to mull it. Free of the guilt and the anger, able to draw back and examine every aspect of the circumstances with a calm eye, Vambran felt the understanding flood into him at last.

Strength.

You're not punishing me, Vambran realized, accepting what he trusted his goddess was telling him. You're asking me to take the burden because you believe I can.

That realization, that true understanding at last of what all of it had been about, flooded through Vambran like a wave of pure joy. He felt the tears flow then, not tears of sorrow for his losses, but tears of unbridled love for Waukeen.

Thank you for your trust, he thought. I will do my best.

Persevere.

I will try. Thank you.

For a long moment after his revelation, Vambran sat with his eyes closed, trying to absorb everything he had come to understand. Finally, with the burdens of his trials and tribulations lifted, he opened his eyes and took it all in-the sky, the ocean, the screaming gulls, the rocks…Being in that place, in that time, was by deific design, certainly, but it was also a moment to be savored for its own sake, a celebration of service unto itself.

It's not a burden, he decided. It's a reward. Faith begets faith.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Arbeenok asked, standing beside the mercenary officer. "Savor it."

Vambran laughed. Really laughed. "I was just thinking the exact same thing, my friend," he said when he regained his composure. "We were brought to this place because we can savor it, and that is a gift not to be squandered."

Arbeenok smiled and sat down. "Then let us eat and savor a meal, too," he said.

The two of them ate in silence, appreciating the bountiful meal the sea had provided. When they were done, Vambran knew he was ready.

"We don't know what we will find beneath the waves today," he told the druid, "but I am willing to accept whatever is put in front of us. I have prepared for the journey with appropriate blessings. The only thing left to do is begin."

Arbeenok nodded. "Then let us trust our instincts and what nature shows us," he said.

They walked down to the beach together and looked for a passable route into the water, one that would not let the current dash them against the rocks. They found a small inlet, calm and still, and they began to wade out into the shallows. As they strode deeper into the Reach, Vambran took his holy coin from inside his shirt and prayed, thanking Waukeen for the abilities he would be granted. Then, when the water covered his shoulders, he ducked his head down.

The first breath was always the hardest. He had to fight the urge to keep his mouth clamped shut, to hold in the air already in his lungs. But he knew the spell would work, and at last he relented and began to breathe. The water gurgled and swirled into his mouth, but only sweet air filled his lungs. Vambran sighed in satisfaction and turned to Arbeenok.

The druid was still standing with his head above water, but as Vambran watched, the alaghi began to change, to transform. He became a manta ray, his brown fur shrinking away and becoming firm, black skin. He settled into the water and swam in a lazy circle around Vambran, his winglike fins rippling gently to propel him along.

Vambran watched the druid in fascination, and when Arbeenok swam beside him, he shifted his flat body sideways, running that sharklike skin along Vambran's arm. The mercenary understood. He took hold of the front of Arbeenok's extended frame and began to glide through the water, letting the druid propel them both. It was a magnificent beginning to their journey.

The water was clear and blue, and the floor of the Reach was shallow, luxuriously covered in smooth sand. Coral groves formed arches and tunnels and made homes for exotic fish. Vambran had often watched such wondrous color pass beneath a ship in calm, clear waters, but he had never imagined the beauty of it from an undersea perspective. He watched a school of bright orange fish scatter as he and Arbeenok darted by.

Vambran found that he could indicate a direction to Arbeenok by gently pulling back with one hand or the other against the shoulders of the druid's wings. By giving such guidance, the mercenary was able to show Arbeenok that he wanted to move among some of the coral and see the abundance of sea life before going deeper into the water.

The remains of a ship came into view, and for a brief moment, Vambran wondered if it was Lady's Favor, but he dismissed the thought, for the wreck was older, smaller, and more intact. It had settled on its side upon a large expanse of red coral reef, and the abundant sea life had begun to cover its surfaces. Vambran wanted to sweep near the wreck for a closer look, but he sensed Arbeenok hesitate. When a large shark swam out of a hole in the side of the downed craft and began prowling close to them, Vambran was fully in favor of heading the other direction.

After getting over his initial sense of wonder, Vambran nudged Arbeenok further out from the shore, toward deeper waters. The floor of the Reach in that area remained shallow for several hundred paces, declining at a steady if gradual angle, but before long, the two searchers came to a notable boundary where the sea floor plunged rapidly downward to greater depths.

At first, Arbeenok chose to glide parallel to the edge of that steep slope rather than taking the plunge into its depths, for the light was dimmer there and large forests of long, twisted plants grew upward from the sandy floor, suitable hiding places for who-knew-what. Vambran was content to let the druid choose their route, for though he had taken great delight in drifting through the multicolored, brightly lit world of the shallows, he was more than a little apprehensive about descending into the gloom. The memory of the kraken was still too fresh in his mind.

Banishing their reluctance, the pair turned and began to drift downward, following the ocean floor as its rock-strewn incline dropped beneath them. Vambran was torn between having Arbeenok glide close to the top of the plant-forest so that they could dart in if a threat appeared, or nudging the druid to steer clear of the lush growth and evade whatever might be hiding inside. He chose to guide Arbeenok on a route near enough to make a sudden dive but not so near that they wouldn't have a chance to react to surprises rising from below.

Vambran considered again the notion that he had no idea what they were looking for-merely underwater ruins-and he wondered if any parts of ancient Jhaamdath still protruded above the sediment of so many centuries. The histories told him a great tidal wave had washed the Twelve Cities of Swords off the land and out into the sea, a magical scouring brought by the elves in retribution for unchecked logging of the Chondalwood. He couldn't imagine what might have survived such a catastrophe, for the wave was said to be a mile high.

Such force would surely have dragged hills and mountains down with it, he thought. Jhaamdath is probably buried down there, out of reach.

Just when the lieutenant was beginning to feel despair and wondering if they shouldn't return to shore to rethink their efforts, a figure darted toward him, whose movement he caught out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly, more figures were all around them, darting toward them as though to surround them, and he felt Arbeenok shudder with concern and begin banking to retreat. He crouched low against the druid's body, trying to reduce water resistance so they could swim faster.

But the creatures were too quick. Vambran fumbled for his sword, wondering how well he could swing it through water, when he realized he had seen the creatures' likes before. Blue-skinned and naked, the figures swimming toward him were remarkably similar to elves in appearance, though their hands and feet were webbed. As the sea elves swam around, large, friendly eyes regarded both Vambran and Arbeenok, smiling and reaching out gently to touch the two of them.

A female with short bluish hair, bedecked in shell bracelets and necklaces, swam right up to Vambran. Though he couldn't be certain, he thought it might have been the same member of the species he had encountered before, when Lady's Favor had sunk and he had nearly drowned while dueling the kraken. She smiled at him, those beautiful turquoise eyes with their gold flecks were unmistakable. She swam up next to the lieutenant and wrapped her arms about his head, embracing him and offering him a soft kiss. He didn't fight it. When she pulled away, he thought she might have giggled, though the sound was odd and distorted in the water.

The sea elf maiden rolled over once and regarded him as she paddled backward, and Vambran wondered if he was blushing at the sight of her unclothed, but then she motioned for them to follow her and spun around and darted away. Vambran shrugged and nudged Arbeenok to follow.

Around Vambran and Arbeenok, other sea elves swam in a sort of escort formation, maintaining a distance on every side as well as above and below the pair. As a group, they all followed the female downward, toward a jagged chasm that gashed the side of the sloping ocean floor at an angle. When the sea elf guide darted into the chasm and began descending even faster, Vambran fought a brief sense of panic. It was growing ever darker, and he was beginning to feel the effects of the water pressure on his body. But then the sea elf vanished from view, darting into what must have been a cave. Arbeenok followed, not needing Vambran's guidance to understand where they were expected to go.

The mouth of the cave was large and dark, but the mercenary noted a faint glow from its depths, as the druid obviously did, for he rippled his wings and followed the light source. Vambran hoped he was not misplacing his trust in their guide, but something told him their actions were right.

The cave continued for quite a distance. The light turned out to be glowing coral positioned at intervals on the walls of the tunnel. After several twists and turns in the passage, the cave angled upward, and Vambran could see brighter light ahead.

The water there had a surface, and the mercenary's head broke through as Arbeenok glided up to it. They were in a large chamber with a cavernous roof high overhead. The whole of the place was lit with more of the glowing coral, but brighter lights were also placed along one side of the cavern. Vambran noticed a sort of rocky beach, and the sea elf was sitting there, out of the water, watching him with a bemused smile on her face.

He and Arbeenok drifted toward her until the water was too shallow for the druid to swim any closer. Vambran climbed off his friend and stood up, letting the water cascade off him. Beside Vambran, Arbeenok stood up, transformed back into his natural shape.

"Hello, land-walker," the sea elf said in a somewhat odd accent, but in a voice that was just as sweet as any land elf's. "We've been expecting you."