Richard Byers: Queen of the Depths

Maybe it wasn’t really treachery to thwart an addled mind in pursuit of disastrous folly, and she was right, often enough, she did seem crazy to him. He just couldn’t see what she saw or feel what she felt.

But sometimes he wondered what it would be like. How it felt to stalk fearlessly about the world, armored in faith and certainty, to steer one’s life by absolutes, not pragmatism and compromise.

It’s insane, he thought, but I could do it this one time. I could let go of my own notions and trust hers, if I’m willing to live with the consequences.

“Fine,” he growled, “I’ll keep my mouth shut. Just don’t tell me you knew all along how I was going to decide.”

“I did not. Umberlee has called us, but nonetheless, we are always free to swim with the current or struggle against it. Now be of good cheer. The councilors are wise after their fashion. They will see reason.”

They didn’t have to wait long to find out if she was right. Piscine tail flipping up and down, the merman servant arrived only minutes later to conduct them back to his masters.

For the most part, the councilorsthose whose expressions Anton could read, anywayscowled and glowered as if a physician had forced them to swallow vile-tasting medicine. He felt a sudden urge to grin, and made sure he didn’t.

“For the record,” Pharom said, “this council regards compelling the worship of any deity as a reprehensible practice. It could easily undermine the mutual tolerance necessary for the six races to live in peace together.”

However, Anton thought.

“Yet at the same time,” the High Mage continued, “we naturally recognize the existence of all the gods, and understand that over the course of a lifetime, a sensible, pious person may offer to many of them, according to his circumstances. So, waveservant, if you, acting in the name of the Queen of the Depths, can help stave off the dragon flight, then we would deem it appropriate to proclaim a festival of celebration in her honor. As far as obliging the shalarin people to worship her on an ongoing basis, that’s an internal matter for As’arem. This council can’t command it.”

Tu’ala’keth turned to Ri’ola’con. “Then, High Lord,” she said, “as eadar, it falls to you to say yes or no on behalf of our folk.”

The wrinkled, frail-looking shalarin frowned. “You know very well, Seeker, that As’arem is five realms, not one, and that my authority has its limits.”

“Swear to do your utmost to meet Umberlee’s requirements, and that will suffice.”

In the end, the councilors all vowed in turn, each by his patron god, by one sacred principle or another or simply on his honor, though several offered their oaths with an ill grace. Morgan was the last and surliest of all.

“All right,” he said, “enough mummery. Enough stalling. Tell us your secret, and by all the powers we just invoked, it had better be worth the wait.”

“Very well.” Tu’ala’keth provided a terse account of the weapons they’d seized and what they proposed to do with them. Anton, who rather prided himself on making clear, concise reports to his superiors, appreciated the brevity.

When she finished, the other councilors looked to Morgan. “What do you think, cousin?” Pharom asked.

The warrior scowled and hesitated. Anton could all but see the feelings clashing inside him, resentment of Tu’ala’keth on one side, hope and the need to keep faith with his own martial pride by giving an honest appraisal on the other. “It’s… interesting,” he said at length.

Tu’ala’keth responded as if this equivocation settled everything. “I noticed you have started preparations to defend the city. That is good, for even if the army readied itself in time to engage the dragons elsewhere, this is the best place to make our stand. The damage will be significant, but we can turn the architecture and reefs to our advantage. I suggest evacuating all those unfit to fight.”

“We haven’t yet agreed to your plans,” Morgan said.

“That’s true,” Pharom said. “So should we? You’re as able and canny a soldier as anyone here, so speak plainly. Are you in favor, or against?”

“Yes,” sighed the other sea-elf. “This plan gives us more hope than anything we’ve thought of hitherto.” The truculence came back into his manner. “But only if her liquids and baubles perform as she claims.”

“If they do not,” said Tu’ala’keth, “I will be among the first to suffer for my stupidity. As it is my scheme, it is only proper that I play a central role in attempting it.”

Anton said. “I’ll be in the vanguard, too.” Nose to snout with more dragons, may the Red Knight stand beside me.

Tu’ala’keth watched Anton swim experimentally back and forth and up and down. She understood the reason for it. Though they’d passed beyond the field of helpful magic enveloping Myth Nantar, the Arcane

Caste had, at her behest, supplied him with enchantments that should enable him to function just as well in the open sea. A bone half-mask allowed him both to breathe and to see in what he would otherwise regard as impenetrable gloom. A fire-coral ring warmed him, and eel-skin slippers and gloves enabled him to swim with the speed and agility of a shalarin.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t had much time to practice with the latter items before Morgan Ildacer led the company forth. He still felt uncertain of their capabilities. It was natural, but though she maintained her composure, as a waveservant should, his fidgeting was making her restless, too. “You will be fine,” she said.

Beneath the mask with its amber lens, carved scales, and gill slits, his mouth quirked into a smile. “Can I take that as a guarantee from Umberlee?”

“Umberlee does not deal in guarantees. It is simply that I have found you to be a quick study.”

He gazed right, left, up, straight ahead, then down at the dark, silt-covered slopes of Mount Halaath falling away beneath them. Many of their comrades were similarly peering about and making a point to check in every direction. In open water, an enemy could strike from anywhere.

“I don’t see the brutes,” Anton said. “It would be funny if they just decided to veer off and go somewhere else entirely. They could, you know. A dragon flight can do any crazy thing.”

“Not this one,” she said.

“Because Umberlee sent it?”

“I have spoken of pattern precipitating from the randomness of life. As it begins to articulate itself, it either breaks against some form of resistance or increases in implicit strength and complexity, until, if it thrives beyond a certain point, it inevitably fulfills itself. You and I have followed such a pattern. Or we created it. One perspective is as valid as the other.”

“So now the dragons have to come.”

She smiled. “I think that no matter how many times I explain, you will never truly permit yourself to understand. They do not have to. They can do as they like. But they will.”

He stiffened then said, in a softer voice, “Yes, I guess so."

She turned and looked upward as he was. At first, she couldn’t see forms, just a great burgeoning agitation in the water. That, however, was enough to send a pang of fear stabbing through her, because she comprehended just how many dragons it took to create that seething, onrushing cloudiness.

Many of her comrades were plainly frightened also, staring wide-eyed, shivering, and unconsciously cringing backward. She gripped the drowned man’s hand and murmured a prayer. A pulse of clarity and resolution throbbed within her, cleansing much of the anxiety from her mind, and streaming outward to enhance the courage and vigor of every ally within range.

“Steady,” she said, “steady. The Queen of the Depths is with us. All our gods are with us.” Well, give or take the feeble frauds from the Sea of Corynactis.