Mel Odom - Rising Tide

Jherek almost said something, but he refrained. Tynnel wouldn't allow anything to happen to the ship's mage. Still, he could warn her if she came to see him before she set sail. The possibility that she wouldn't left him feeling empty. He also had no clue what he was supposed to do next.

Live, that you may serve.

The words haunted him, taunted him, and-by turn- tormented him. If some greater power had taken an interest in his life, why wasn't it making its desire more clear? Why make every step increasingly difficult? Had whatever destiny that had been laid before him somehow gotten tangled up with the bastardized birthright that was his? The gods weren't infallible. Perhaps he'd been chosen wrongly. Even a small mistake made by a god might stretch across mortal lifetimes before it was caught.

"C'mon, boy," the old warrior said, taking Jherek gently by the arm. "Best have that wound tended to. The longer it stays open, the greater chance for infection to settle in."

Reluctantly, Jherek went with the man. He had no answers to any of the questions or problems that plagued him. He drew the attention of the serving wench who'd taken part in Aysel's scheme.

"If a woman should come searching for me. " he said.

The serving wench bobbed her head. "I'll tell her straight away where to find you." Moisture glinted in her eyes. "I'm sorry for the way things turned out. I thought it would only be a joke. You deserved to be treated better than this."

"It's not your fault, lady," Jherek said softly. "The ill luck was mine. It always has been." He touched her shoulder gently and managed a small smile, then he stepped out into the harsh Amnian sunlight, smelling the sea so near, yet so far away.

He considered the ships out in the harbor, his eyes drawn to one in particular.

13 Tarsakh, tike Year of the Gauntlet

Laaqueel surveyed her image in the mirror with growing distaste. Iakhovas's magic had woven an illusion over her that even she couldn't pierce. She held her hand up to her reflection. Looking at her hand, she saw the webbing between her fingers, but the mirror image didn't have it. Her fingers looked clean and smooth, grotesquely human, without any means of real defense. The hated tan color that marked her as different from the aquatic elves she was supposed to resemble most took on a hue that was more brown in the reflection. Cosmetics adorned the totally elven face she spied in the mirror, emphasizing her eyes and making them suddenly seem too large, her lips too full. Rose blush touched her pronounced cheekbones.

Thankfully, she wore the combat leathers Iakhovas had bade her wear while they were in the city. After they'd arrived, he'd ushered her into the suite, telling her there was not much time. The garments were of dark brown leather that was creased and worn, supple in its age. They covered her trunk and legs, leaving her breasts partially bared. Knee-high boots with flaring sides encased her feet too tightly. A long sword hung at her hip, almost touching the hardwood floor. A russet-colored cloak hung to her ankles, heavy with all the throwing knives, caltrops, and garrotes that she'd stored in the secret pockets she'd discovered.

"Despite what you yourself might think, little malenti, you look ravishing."

Keeping her expression neutral, not wanting to show the anger she felt or the unrest caused by the fact she hadn't heard him enter, Laaqueel turned to face her master and said, "I only hope to look satisfactory."

Iakhovas nearly filled the door opening into the large suite. He looked like himself to her, and she wondered if he was covered by an illusion as well. He was taller than most men, taller even than the occasional Northman she'd encountered in her spying efforts along the Sword Coast.

"Wearing a true human's guise is hard," he said, "especially when you know you are so much more."

His garments were azure and black, the colors bold and striking. His two-toned cape held the color scheme, black on the outside and azure on the inside. For once, he looked as though he had two eyes, and she knew the intensity of his illusion was deeply layered but built on the way she was normally allowed to see him. It reminded her again that she might not have ever truly seen his real face.

"Trust me when I say you look more than satisfactory." Iakhovas walked to one of the room's many windows and pulled the curtain back. Beyond the glass a cityscape spread out, the streets and alleys seen below their position stringing out to reach the sea. Wagons and dray horses lined those streets as the deckhands and sailors went about their business.

"Where are we?" she asked.

He kept his back to her and lifted one of the windows.

The salty ocean breeze wafted into the room, washing out the stench of incense that had made it hard for Laaqueel to breathe. She hadn't been able to lift the window herself and guessed that he'd used his magic to ward them closed. Wherever they were, the increased power of his illusion and the security he was maintaining told her he didn't entirely feel safe there.

Nearly a tenday had passed since the confrontation with Huaanton. Iakhovas had not spoken of the sahua-gin king any more, but he'd been absent from her much, not telling her where he'd traveled, and acting even more driven than she'd ever seen him. Every day he'd been gone had been agony for Laaqueel, not knowing what he was doing but knowing how tightly her fate was woven with his. The time when he was supposed to deliver the "miracle" to the sahuagin king was only five days away.

Laaqueel had seen no miracles on the horizon.

Then, this morning, he'd stepped back through one of the dimensional doors he kept in his sahuagin palace and commanded her to come with him. He'd given no explanation of where he'd been or what he'd been doing. Having no choice, Laaqueel had stepped through the dimensional door and ended up in this city only an hour ago.

"We're in Skaug," he replied.

The malenti knew of the city from her travels above the sea, but she couldn't imagine what would bring them there. "The pirate capital of the Nelanther Isles?" she asked.

The mainlanders along the Sword Coast feared the place, and merchant ships lived in dread of the pirates who found a home port in Skaug. Only the most vicious and fearsome claimed the city as home, and the Skaug Corsairs protected the shores viciously from even those who pursued the pirates for crimes committed at sea and in their own countries. The Skaug Corsairs turned them all back, charging fees to those who stayed there.

"Yes," Iakhovas said, turned, and grinned. "Little malenti, you've never known a time when you kept pace with any and all of my plans and machinations, but you're going to learn more now. I'm feeling generous." He grinned again broadly, full of self-confidence and purpose. "You're not to know everything, but more than you have been allowed to know in the past."

She refused to react to his statement because it was true. Of late, she'd been constantly reminded of how true that was. A newborn hatchling still trapped in its nursery with its voracious siblings had more control over its future.

"What are we doing here?" she asked.

"I, little malenti," he rebuked her in a voice that sounded as gentle as steel encased in silk. "What am I doing here?"

She bowed her head, breaking eye contact in true sahuagin fashion. "Of course," she said. "Forgive me."

"Now you may ask me your question more properly."

Anger flooded through the malenti priestess, but it wasn't enough to quench her fear, or to make her forget that she'd have nothing without him. "What are you doing here, most honored one?"

"Marshaling the forces of yet another army I direct," he told her expansively. "The sahuagin aren't the only ones who follow me, nor only the creatures of the seas. There are dark cults spread around this world, among the surface dwellers, that know aspects of me. I've spoken with them of late, given notice to those as well to help me recover all that was taken from me. My war is escalating, my little malenti, and I shall break and shatter the surface dwellers."