The Eve of the Maelstrom

16 Dimernesti

Feril stood poised on the railing, near the port side of the Narwhal’s bowsprit. She gazed at the rolling water as it captured glimmering shards of the late morning sun. The light sparkled like stars glittering in a night sky. In the distance she spotted a darker patch of blue that indicated the presence of a reef. And at the very edge of her vision was a rocky ridge she knew was dotted with sea caves, where ships had moored and traded with the Dimernesti before the great sea dragon came to rule the area.

The sunken land of the sea elves was said to rest somewhere between the reef and ridge.

“Wish I could go with you.” Blister stood a few feet behind her. “I’ve never been under the water before. Well, other than swimming a little bit, and that doesn’t count. I mean, I’ve never seen a whole underwater country and elves and everything. Do you think someday you could teach me how to do your magic so I could go under the water too?”

Feril didn’t answer. To say “no” would hurt Blister’s feelings and probably elicit a dozen “whys” and “how comes.” And to say “yes” was out of the question. As soon as she made a stand with Palin against the Dark Queen, the Kagonesti intended to return to Southern Ergoth and direct her efforts against Gellidus, or Frost as men called the white overlord. And if that dragon could someday be driven off, Feril intended to settle in either Onysablet’s swamp or Beryllinthranox’s forest.

Her future plans, however, did not depend on the others in the party. She felt close to Blister and the others, to Dhamon especially. But that closeness couldn’t substitute for her need to be alone and in the wilderness.

The kender spoke a little louder, thinking perhaps that the waves washing against the ship had drowned out her voice. “Feril, do you think some day maybe you could teach me...”

The Kagonesti pulled a deep breath of salt-tinged air into her lungs and dove over the side.

“... how to cast magic?” Blister’s lower lip stuck out and she shuffled to the rail, catching a glimpse of Feril’s feet. Then the Kagonesti was gone.

The sea closed like a cocoon, and Feril concentrated on the feel of the water against her skin, focusing on a spell that would transform her into a creature she had studied years earlier. She’d spent most of the previous day sleeping and gathering her strength. The rest was necessary, as magic was taxing.

She felt her skin tingle as her lungs started calling for air. As the Kagonesti angled herself deeper, she saw the skin of her outstretched arms darken and become the color of mud. The water felt different now; her skin, too, was different: thicker, rubbery. Her tunic slipped from her and floated toward the sea floor.

Her hands disappeared, her feet vanished, and her limbs became snakelike. They writhed in the water, propelling her on. Her lungs ached, and she took a tentative gulp of water. Not yet! The spell had not yet progressed far enough. She concentrated harder as her head pounded.

Feril’s snakelike limbs thickened, and more sprouted from her body—two arms on each side, growing from ribs that were snapping and popping and changing.

She dove deeper, as the light diminished, looking hazy now. The plants around her were plentiful, pointing their stalks and leaves toward the surface, trying to drink in the dim light. Her leggings slipped away.

The hair that fluttered around her face receded, her torso shortened, became bulbous, melding with her enlarging head. Her fingers and toes reformed and multiplied, becoming hundreds of suction-cup appendages. So sensitive were the cups that as they brushed against sea fronds, a myriad of sensations flooded into the Kagonesti’s brain. Feril gasped, this time taking a great gulp of water into her lungs. The feeling was strange, as if she were drowning, the water inside of her and part of her. But she wasn’t drowning; she was finally breathing the water. Her heart hammered wildly, and she focused on calming herself, accepting the new experience.

The octopus dropped toward the white sandy floor. Feril’s new body felt liquid and malleable, the tentacles undulating to carry her across the bottom, the suction cups registering the smoothness of stones, the roughness of sand, and the suppleness of the few plants. It was impossible to catalog all the impressions. Feril concentrated on taking in the landscape.

Her new eyes, no longer needing sun-filtered light, easily peered through the now-dark water. The colors were intense. She had a wide range of vision and quickly learned to focus.

She noted the cuttlefish and squid that swam just above the sea floor to the right and a little behind her, and she saw a large reef shark that swam ahead in the distance. The shark was hunting, practically inhaling a scurrying school of black-saddled pufferfish. The shark would leave her alone, Feril thought. She was too large, and probably not on its list of preferred morsels.

Feril continued toward the reef, as she visually explored her surroundings. Then the sea floor abruptly sloped upward, and she gathered her limbs behind her, jetting forward. The water rushed around her, as she finally spread her limbs to slow her pace.

The coral reef was breathtaking, and Feril found herself staring at it in amazement. Turtle grass grew in profusion along its base and was scattered in clumps here and there. Elkhorn coral, green and yellow growths, predominated in the section of reef closest to her. She saw patches of fire coral—yellow, white, and pale orange animals that looked like tendrils of fire. In some spots the coral was only a few yards across before it was cut by the sea bed. In others, it stretched for a few hundred yards.

The fish were as colorful as the reef. A school of blue tang swam above the elkhorn. Box crabs clawed their way up toward the surface, snapping at tiny fish as they went. There were porcupine fish, star-eyed hermit crabs, delicate-looking leaf scorpionfish, and brittle stars. She wished her companions could see the marvels spread out before her. She watched a white ball sea urchin collecting bits of shells to cover itself. Nearby, a flamingo’s tongue, a small mollusc, was feeding on the polyps of soft coral, leaving a swath of death behind it.

Her tentacles propelled her up the reef where the colors became brighter, a rainbow of life, as more sunlight spilled down. Then she was traveling over the top of the reef and down the other side, steeply down toward a great ravine that looked like a dark scar against the sea floor’s white sand.

Feril gathered her tentacles and jetted across, glancing down into the darkness and seeing nothing but shadows which seemed to move in rhythm with the current and the seaweed.

“Do you think there’s a city under the water?” Blister stood next to Usha, who was sitting on a coil of rope, her back against the mast.

Usha nodded. “Several.”

“And do you think there’re elves there?”

“They’re called the Dimernesti.”

“Ever see one?”

Usha shook her head.

“Do you think Feril will find the place?”

“I hope so.”

“You know, we might not be in the right spot. The ocean’s awfully big.” The kender threw her hands out to the side, then shrugged.

“I’m sure Rig followed the Master’s directions correctly,” said Usha soothingly. “We must be close.”

“But Feril’s been gone for hours.” The kender had an uncharacteristically worried look on her face. “She missed lunch. What if she’s not back in time for dinner?”

Usha smiled. “Give her time, Blister. Not only does she have to find Dimernesti, she has to find the crown.”

The kender stared into Usha’s golden eyes. “I hope she doesn’t find the dragon. I remember Silvara telling us about Brine.”

“Feril can take care of herself.” Rig had moved up behind Blister. “I’m more concerned about the dragon finding us. We’re the only ship on this part of the ocean. That makes us a sitting target. The dragon’s been known to sink ships that travel these waters.” He had a spyglass in his hand. It was elaborate, made of onyx and silver and inlaid with mother-of-pearl, one of the nautical treasures he’d found in the cabin. “I haven’t seen another ship since we left Khur about two weeks ago. All the smart captains keep their ships to the coasts.”

“You don’t have to worry about the dragon,” Blister said. “The Narwhal’s much too small. The dragon’s not going to notice a boat.”

Rig closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, balancing himself as the Narwhal pitched violently. The kender latched her arms around the mariner’s leg to keep from falling.

When the sea finally calmed, she let go, steadied herself, and looked up into his dark eyes. “Have you ever seen a Dimernesti? A sea elf, not the land kind. They’re called the same thing even though they’re not the same thing. I know you haven’t seen the land. But you might have seen one of the elves. Usha told me that the sea elves can breathe air. You’ve sailed all over Ansalon, and I thought maybe...”

“No. I haven’t seen one.” Rig handed Blister the spyglass. “Mind taking a turn at watch?”

Blister grinned broadly and puffed out her chest, snatched the spyglass, and hurried toward the rear of the ship, where Groller was teaching Dhamon some of his sign language.

“Thanks,” Usha said.

“Don’t mention it,” replied the mariner, grinning. “I’m going to get some sleep and then take the evening watch. You should think about a little rest, too.”

“Rest?” The new voice was craggy and accompanied by the tromp of boots. “There’ll be plenty of time to rest when we’ve stopped the Dark Queen from coming back.” Jasper had his canvas sack clutched in his hands. Fury was following him.

Jasper reached in the sack, handing the scepter to Usha. She ran her thin fingers over its wooden surface, tracing the gems with her thumbs. “You really want to try again? You’ve been doing this every day,” he said.

“I know.”

“Ever think that maybe you can’t remember because there is nothing to remember?”

“You’re sounding like Blister,” she teased him. “No. The elves made me forget because they were worried the scepter might fall into the wrong hands, and they didn’t want it used for evil. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust Palin and I. And they didn’t think we’d voluntarily tell someone of its powers. They just didn’t want to take any chances.”

Jasper sat next to her, looked between a gap in the railing at the waves, and held his stomach. Usha would never remember, he decided. Just as he would never get over being seasick.

The sea floor dropped off and the current became much stronger. Feril continued in the same direction, following the Master’s instructions. The water was even darker now, both because she was deeper and because it was evening. She knew several hours had passed, but felt no fatigue.

She wouldn’t have had to swim so far if they had taken the Narwhal closer. But neither she nor Rig wanted that. They didn’t want to risk losing everyone on the ship to a dragon that, according to Silvara, liked to sink anything that came too close to Dimernesti.

Her eyes picked through the murky shades, separating rocks from shadows from plants from...

She stopped, her tentacles waving gently over the sand to keep her in place. A few dozen yards ahead, strange shapes rose from the sea floor. Black and angular, they weren’t rocks.

Dimernesti? she wondered. Feril crept closer, squeezing herself through a pair of coral spires, and jetted toward a bulky shadow. A shipwreck, she realized a moment later. A large three-masted carrack lay on the sea floor, its masts stretching futilely toward the surface. Bits of sail and long sections of rope flapped in the current, making the whole thing look like the underside of a giant jellyfish.

Her tentacles touched the hull, feeling the smoothness of the wood and the rough barnacles that dotted its surface. She moved to a gaping hole in the side and slipped inside. It was dark as midnight in the cargo hold. She made out crates, coils of rope, and barrels labeled in a tongue she couldn’t read. A body, completely covered with tiny red crabs, thumped against the hull’s interior. She spotted other sailors, or rather what was left of them, mostly picked clean by the local denizens.

Shuddering, she scooted out of the wreck and continued on. Several dozen broken ships littered the sea floor: massive whalers, four-and five-masted galleons, caravels, cogs, merchant vessels and traders. All had become home to thousands of fish, lobsters, and crabs. As she threaded her way through the wreckage, she noted that some of the ships had been down here for decades, the largest of them claimed by sharks and squid. The algae was thick on the older wrecks, like blue-green carpets covering every inch.

Buntlines wagged in the water like tethered sea snakes. Crow’s nests were canted at crazy angles, some still affixed to masts, others caught up in seaweed-draped rigging. The place was eerily peaceful. Small sharks skimmed over the decks, and a school of a yellow tang darted inside a three-masted caravel. Feril spied another octopus, not so large as herself. Its tentacles curled and uncurled through a gash in a small galley’s hull.

There were more recent wrecks, too, and Feril could make out names along their hulls: Seawind, Balifor’s Darling, Blood Sea Bounty, Sanguine Lady, and Cuda’s Gem. Feril paid closer attention. Her tentacles carried her across their decks and into their holds, while her senses shut out the bodies trapped there.

All of the ships had one thing in common—holes gaped in their hulls, as if they’d run aground on dangerous shoals. But there were no shoals in this deep water, no coral spikes hiding just below the surface. The dragon must have done this, she realized.

Feril moved more quickly now. She had visions of the Narwhal joining this graveyard. She passed beyond the wrecks and followed the still sloping sea floor. Life here was sparse in comparison to what thrived elsewhere.

Finally, she spotted the glimmering lights of what she was certain was an underwater kingdom. A school of palm-size triggerfish—bluechins, half-moons, clowns, and pinktails swam into view. Fish darted toward and away from a city that surpassed the coral reef in beauty. Feril’s eyes focused on spires and domes that looked as if they had been sculpted by an artist. The colors were dazzling oranges and greens, shimmering whites, pale blues and yellows. Along the buildings’ surfaces were windows. Light spilled from them, illuminating the city and making it look like a jeweled brooch.

The city was at the edge of an underwater continent, nestled amid hills. It reminded Feril of Palanthas, held in cupped lands ringed by finger hills and mountains. White sand stretched beyond it.

As she moved closer, she concentrated on the triggerfish. Within a few heartbeats, she felt her body shrinking, folding in upon itself. Her brown rubbery skin was replaced by scales, pale yellow along her sides, green atop her back, and white along her belly. Her limbs dissolved, becoming gills. A tail appeared, and her eyes moved atop her head, giving her a disconcertingly wide range of vision. Her new body was angular, a diamond shape with a tail, and it weighed no more than a few pounds. Her lips were bulbous and bright yellow, like the yellow band that shot just below her eyes.

She joined the school of triggerfish and swam toward the city. The fish fed on the small coral growths that sprouted here and there along the mountains and near the base of the buildings. Feril saw shapes passing by the windows, manlike, some pausing to look out before moving away.

Part of the triggerfish school darted toward a dome, and she followed. The buildings toward the center of the city were smaller. Some buildings were curved, sweeping like a horn from the ground. Others looked like overturned vases, and a few resembled lobster tails and conch shells. There were no people outside the buildings. She continued to swim with the fish, giving herself a tour of the city, and wondering if all the elven cities in Dimernesti looked like this.

Toward the south was what looked like a park. There were coral spires artfully arranged, as a gardener might purposefully plant trees and bushes. There were statues, too, though only one was intact: a tall sea elf with a trident clutched to his chest.

Beyond the park stretched other evidence of destruction, a row of once-tall buildings that were now nothing more than rubble. The triggerfish swam toward this, spotting coral and algae growing on a collapsed wall. They feasted on the algae and on tiny animals that looked like lace floating just above it.

Feril considered staying with the fish, hoping they would lead her around the city until she found a likely place where the crown might be. But the triggerfish showed no interest in leaving their algae snack, and Feril was in a hurry. She swam past the rubble to a smaller dome with a single light toward the roof. She darted in a window and found herself in a bedroom illuminated by a glowing shell on the wall. A net hammock fluttered between two poles. Cabinets lined one wall. An oval doorway led from this room, and Feril swam through it. Beyond was a room filled with benches and chairs, lit by more of the shells. Sculptures of sea creatures were arranged on low tables. The furniture was white, edged in pearls.

Her heart leaped in surprise as something touched her. Fingers. She pumped her fins and turned about, stared face to face with a young pale blue elf. Long silvery-white hair streamed behind her, silver like the tunic she wore. At first, Feril thought the elf had no eyebrows, but then she saw they were so pale as to seem invisible.

The sea elf’s hands were webbed, her ears gracefully pointed, eyes wide and expressive, hinting at warmth and kindness. Her lips, a darker shade of blue, were moving. She was saying something. Veil? Veil-long? Feril felt the vibrations in the water before she heard the words. But the Kagonesti couldn’t understand the words. As the sea elf spoke, fragments of words sounded familiar to Feril; they reminded her of her native tongue. Again, the sea elf ran her fingers along Feril’s sides.

Feril shut out the sensation and selected another spell. As it took effect, she watched the sea elf step back, filled with surprise. The Dimernesti grabbed a piece of sculpture, holding it in front of her, and Feril prayed the sea elf wouldn’t hit her with it. The Kagonesti desperately needed her first encounter with a Dimernesti to be a friendly one.

The sea elf replaced the sculpture, and Feril breathed a sigh of relief. The Kagonesti continued to change. Her tail elongated and split, forming legs covered with pale yellow scales. Her fins thrust out to her sides, fleshed out and became scale-covered arms. Within several moments, Feril floated before the sea elf, her hair fluttering like a lion’s mane in the water, the tattoos on her face and arm visible. She had taken on her Kagonesti form, but her body retained the triggerfish’s scales and coloration, and her neck preserved the fish’s gills.

Veil. The word the sea elf repeated again sounded like “veil.” The Dimernesti cautiously approached Feril. More words spilled from her mouth. “Elf” was the only one Feril could make out.

The Kagonesti tried to respond but found she couldn’t speak intelligibly in this form. Her own elven words were foreign to the sea elf. She settled on a different tact, thinking of Groller so far distant. Pointing toward the ceiling, she cupped her hands in front of her, as if she were holding something. Then she moved her hands forward, as if they were a boat. Finally she placed her hands flat against each other and tilted them down, pantomiming diving.

The sea elf looked at her quizzically, but friendly, extended a hand, and led her from the room. As they went, the sea elf continued to talk; her words sounded musical. Only a few had any similarity to the elven tongue Feril knew. The only ones she recognized were elf, magic, and dragon.

Their path took them across the park. Nowhere did Feril see any other beings, only the triggerfish and a few crabs that scuttled along the sandy streets. The sea elf swam quickly, furtively glancing above and down each waterway between rows of buildings. She slipped between a pair of rose-colored dwellings, coaxing Feril along.

Then the Dimernesti turned down a street lined with massive, polished conch shells. They passed several more ruined buildings along the way. Feril wanted to ask her guide about them, but she filed the questions away for later, for a time when communication might become possible. Perhaps the elf was taking her to someone who could help her.

They approached a building that Feril guessed stretched upward five or six stories. It was a pale gray, shot through in places by streaks of silver. Soft orange light spilled from windows that spiraled up its sides.

The sea elf started talking again, faster, words that didn’t register with the Kagonesti. She pulled Feril toward a round door, rapping her pale blue hand against it. After several moments, the door opened, and a male sea elf stood in the frame.

His skin was a shade of bright blue, and his hair was dark green and short. He looked at the pair with a puzzled expression, as the female sea elf guide rattled off what Feril assumed was an explanation of how a fish swam into her home and turned into a scaly elf.

The man stepped aside, gesturing, and Feril allowed herself to be conducted into a circular chamber, the walls of which were covered in shell mosaics depicting fish, blue-skinned elves, and fantastical creatures. There was a hole in the ceiling, providing access to another floor. A similar hole at the edge of the room led to somewhere below.

Three more sea elves swam through an oval doorway directly across from Feril. They were young and muscular, wearing only shimmering cloths about their thighs. And they carried nets. Feril moved back toward the door, panic rising in her throat.

Her guide shook her head at the men, waving her webbed hands and speaking rapidly. But the men seemed to ignore her and headed straight toward Feril.

The Kagonesti felt the rush of water behind her as the door was closed, blocking her way out. She whirled and bumped into the bright blue elf. He grabbed her shoulders, and spoke words she couldn’t decipher. She struggled, but his hands were surprisingly strong and locked about her arms. He pushed her against the wall, continued to talk.

“I mean no harm!” Feril shouted in her native tongue, then again in the common tongue. Both times her words were distorted and lost on the sea elves. “I can’t let this happen!”

She summoned her strength, placing her feet against the wall, and pushed back as hard as she could, managing to break the grip of the blue sea elf.

Then she kicked out with as much force as she could manage. She bought herself a few yards, though the men with the nets were coming closer as her guide still argued with them.

She swam toward the oval doorway, narrowly avoiding the outstretched nets. Then she quickly altered her course. More elves might be in the chambers beyond. At the last moment, she kicked her legs hard and angled herself toward the hole in the ceiling. She was about to kick harder when a hand clamped around her ankle.

Her foot struck a face, and she bucked wildly to tear loose. But a hand grabbed her other ankle, and though she continued to struggle, the hands pulled her down. A net was thrown over her. Feril ripped through several of the strands. A second net was added, the weave uncomfortably tight. And then a third.

Bundled up, the Kagonesti was carried through the hole in the ceiling. The sea elf who had guided Feril to this building was left behind as she was taken to the third story of the tower. She was kept here under the guard of a pair of elves who tried to talk to her. It was hopeless—she still couldn’t fathom a word. The nets in which she was trapped were secured to a decorative post.

There was furniture in this room, and her three guards sat on slabs extending from the walls. The largest of the sea elves commanded a net chair that hung from a corner. Having given up on communicating with her, they conversed among themselves. Feril listened as she struggled to free herself. “Elf” was the word repeated most often. “Magic, fish, and dragon” always followed. Other elves came and went, chattering to her guards and ogling the prisoner.

She could use her magic to alter her form, become small enough, perhaps, to slip through gaps in the net. Other spells could split and rend the net and let her flee in this form. But should she cast such spells? Or should she wait, bide her time? The sea elves had not hurt her. And if they operated like other elven societies, no doubt leaders were being summoned to decide what to do with her. Perhaps she would be able to explain to them about the crown.

But how long should she wait?

A while, at least, she finally decided; long enough to rest and rebuild her strength. Feril was tired. She drifted in and out of an uneasy sleep, regaining some of her strength. She suspected the better part of the day had passed by the time her guards changed. The two new watchers chatted with her former captors in the doorway.

She concentrated, remembering the triggerfish, deciding a small one might wriggle its way free and lose itself in this city. One triggerfish among dozens. She felt her skin tighten, her form start to shrink. Then she stopped the spell. One of the new guards was approaching.

“Do you understand the common tongue?” he asked, the words muffled through the water, but distinct enough for her to make them out. “Veylona thought she heard you speak it. Are you from the surface?”

Her heart soared with excitement. She nodded vigorously. She tried to talk and failed miserably, though a few words came across. “Feril” sounded like Groller’s “Furl”, and “crown” sounded more like “round.” Another form would be best, she considered, something that might...

The sea elf yanked the nets free. “This was a precaution, nothing more,” he said. “We did not intend to harm you. Veylona—she was certain you meant no harm to us, though we had to be convinced.”

Veylona, Feril thought. Veil? The word the sea elf woman had repeated.

“These are difficult times for us,” the Dimernesti continued. “And you must understand that visitors here are most rare. Our mystics divined that you were alone, not a spy for the dragon.”

“Veylona?” Feril said the word loud and slow.

“Veylona, she brought you here. Her command of the common tongue is not as good as mine. Veylona, she asked me to guide you. She thinks you are a sorceress.”

Feril swam free of the nets and flexed her arms and legs.

“Are you a sorceress?”

The Kagonesti shook her head. How to explain? Perhaps it was better not to. At last, she nodded slowly.

“A sorceress from the surface. Then you require air? Prefer air?”

Feril nodded again, more vigorously. If she had air to breathe, she could better talk to him, and explain why she was here and what she needed.

He motioned for her, and she followed, the other guard swimming behind her. His fingers were wrapped around the haft of a trident.

“I am Beldargh,” he said. “One of the city guardians. I am taking you to a room with air, where in decades past we brought visitors from the surface. It has not been used in a most long time.”

This room was at the top of the tower, the water in it shallow, held at bay, Feril suspected, by an enchantment cast long ago. Her face broke the surface as she concentrated on her body again, this time returning it fully to her Kagonesti form. The guard poked his head above the water next to her.

“Feril,” she gasped, as she took in a lungful of the stale air. “My name is Feril.”

“Sorceress Feril of the Surface,” Beldargh said slowly, his words sounding breathy in the air. “Were you on a ship that Brine sank? Did you survive by magic?”

“No. The dragon hasn’t sunk our ship. I hope it’s beyond his reach. But I’m here because of the dragon—all the dragons. I need your help. I need the crown.”

“The Crown of Tides?”

Feril nodded.

“Feril, I do not think that will be possible.” Beldargh’s expression darkened, and he shook his head.

“Please listen to me,” she begged. While Beldargh listened, the Kagonesti began the long tale of what brought her to the underwater realm.

“Dimernost,” Beldargh said when she was finally finished. “It will take us a day to reach there. In Dimernost you will ask our...” He groped for a word in her tongue. “Our leader. Our most wise leader will decide. We leave now.”

He motioned for her to follow, then added. “Expect disappointment, Sorceress Feril of the Surface.”

Dimernost, the capital of the underwater realm, looked much like the city Feril had first visited, though much larger. Beldargh served as her guide, and she was accompanied by a handful of other sea elves, including Veylona, the first sea elf that the Kagonesti had met.

She was led through a series of domes partially filled with air. The party stopped at an ornate room containing dozens of sea elves. Most wore few clothes and had pale blue skin, Feril noted, though others had gray skin, and a few were dark blue. Their hair color varied, as well, from white to almost blond, to green, and in many cases various shades of blue.

In the center of the assemblage stood a robed woman to whom the other elves seemed to defer. She had a matronly air, and her unblinking eyes carefully regarded Feril.

“I am Nuqala, Speaker of the Sea,” the woman began in the common tongue. Her accent was one Feril had heard spoken in Khur. “And you are a Kagonesti. Only once do I recall one of your kind visiting with us. That was a long while ago, and he was with a merchant trader seeking to barter goods. Like the trader, you appear to wish something from us.”

Feril nodded and opened her mouth to explain, but Nuqala continued.

“Word moves quickly through the water. What you wish is very valuable, precious to us and life-sustaining.” She paused a moment, and then continued. “You seem to have a considerable command of magic. That magic allowed you to avoid Bryndelsemir.”

Again Feril nodded.

“Explain yourself,” the woman stated.

Words tumbled from Feril’s lips. It was the same story she earlier had told Beldargh, but now it was much more complete: how she came across the Southern Courrain Ocean with her companions in search of Dimernesti, and how she elected to make this part of the journey alone because of her command of nature magic. She explained that she had seen no signs of the dragon, but had seen the ship graveyard.

“Ships sail here no longer,” Nuqala said. Her voice was tinged with melancholy. “We have no more trade with the surface. We are prisoners here. But we are fighters. We do not give up. Our people hunt, though some in turn are hunted by Bryndelsemir. We tend crops, and the dragon devours some of our farmers. But we will never surrender to the dragon. I believe Bryndelsemir does not want to kill us all, as he would have nothing to toy with. We use the Crown of Tides to keep him at bay, preventing him from destroying all of our cities. And you want the crown that is our defense?” Nuqala’s laughed sadly and shook her head. “You, surface elf, want us to surrender. You would doom us, and for what purpose?”

“I don’t wish to doom you but to save you and to save all of Krynn,” Feril replied. There was urgency in the Kagonesti’s voice. “The crown is old, an artifact from the Age of Dreams. Palin Majere believes...”

“Majere? Palin, nephew of Raistlin?” The sea elf tilted her head. “That is a name I have not heard for decades. Palin Majere lives?”

“Yes. He sent us here, to recover the crown. He believes that with the crown, and with other artifacts, we can stop Takhisis from returning and can make a stand against the overlords.”

“You want to help your people against the dragons on the surface. You want me to hand over something sacred to save the surface dwellers.”

“I won’t deny that,” Feril returned. “But I also want to help you. Please believe me. We haven’t much time. Takhisis is returning. And if the Dark Queen comes back to Krynn, your people will have worse things to worry about than a sea dragon.”

The other elves in the domed chamber spoke among themselves, some arguing. A few chattered heatedly to Nuqala in the tongue Feril could only catch pieces of. Nuqala seemed to absorb all their conversations.

“The crown is one of our most hallowed treasures,” she said at last, turning back to Feril. “It belongs to the Dimernesti. It is part of our heritage, linked to our lives.”

“There will be no Dimernesti if the dragons have their way and Takhisis returns,” said the Kagonesti.

“I will consider your words, as I will consider the words of my people. You will stay as our guest for the day, surface elf. In the morning, you shall have my answer.”