Stephen Sullivan - The Dragon Isles

Ula hung a rope over the stem and climbed down into the water. Then she swam in the ship’s wake, her lean form cutting gracefully through the dark water. Trip and the other crew members leaned on the rail, watching her in fascination. When she finally climbed out, the sailors on deck cheered.

Mik smiled and shook his head.

A brief squall that morning drenched the sailors’ bodies, but did little to dampen their spirits. Warm late summer winds from the northwest soon dried out Kingfisher’s sails and her crew. The ship followed the course set by the stars, Mik using his calculations to guide them when the sun hid behind the cotton-like clouds.

He spoke to Karista about Ula’s proposal, but the noblewoman wouldn’t buy any of it. “Just another leech,” Karista said. “We owe her nothing.”

Ula, standing at the rail nearby, must surely have overheard-but she said nothing, only smiling her enigmatic smile. Mik tried not to think about her.

He also tried not to think about the huge diamond glittering amid a pile of treasure in the lost temple. The vision, though, kept tugging at his mind.

Ula retired to his cabin at midday-to escape the summer sun, which had broken through the clouds once more. She was still there when Mik came in for a lunchtime break.

“Well… ?” she asked, leaning forward on her cot.

“Karista isn’t convinced you have any information we need,” he replied. “And, even if she were, I doubt she’d be willing to give up a share of the trade concession she hopes to win.”

“Trade concession?” Ula said. “I wasn’t asking for a cut of the trade concession. I want a cut of the treasure you’re looking for-the one mentioned in the Prophecy.”

“Karista isn’t interested in the treasure,” Mik said. “I’m on my own in that regard.”

“Not any more,” she said with a sly smile.

“How can you be sure any treasure exists?” Mik asked, pouring them both a mug of rum. “Even I’m not sure it exists.”

“I grew up in the isles,” she replied. “I’ve heard rumors of such things before. And I saw that key-like artifact you have locked in your sea chest. Working together, I’m sure we can find riches beyond your imagining.”

Kingfisher’s captain raised his cup and drank. “I’m still not convinced I need another partner,” he said stubbornly.

Ula shook her head and her platinum locks fell pleasingly around her smooth shoulders. “You’ll never get there without my help.”

“We’ll see.”

She raised her glass. “Indeed we will.”

He left Ula in the cabin and went back to work. Karista Meinor and Bok kept mostly out of the way as the crew of Kingfisher kept the vessel on course. Occasionally, Mik spotted the aristocrat checking her copy of the Prophecy.

When the sea elf appeared back on deck in late afternoon, Mik avoided her. Ula took this in stride, and proceeded to mingle with the ship’s crew-even lending a hand with the ongoing chores. Clearly, she knew her way around a boat, though her presence seemed to cause as much distraction as help.

Mik double-checked his headings and set the crew to taking depth readings, not wanting to come upon any reefs or submerged shoals unaware. He also kept a lookout aloft at all times.

Mostly this duty fell to Trip, as the kender actually enjoyed sitting atop the mast. Additionally, with Trip in the rigging, the rest of the crew didn’t have to watch over their small possessions quite so diligently.

Trip scanned the horizon as much as he watched the seas ahead. He constantly reported interesting flocks of birds, or the distant spouts of whales, or the clowning of pods of black and white Turbidus dolphins.

At dusk, Trip spotted a storm system on the western horizon. Mik eyed the gale carefully until dark, and then watched its lightning flashes late into the evening. He knew the further north they sailed the more treacherous the weather would become. Few ventured into the depths of the Turbidus Ocean at summer’s end, and fewer still returned to tell the tale. The chances of Kingfisher being swamped or wrecked if a typhoon hit them were high-and such storms moved faster than any ship could sail.

Mik considered adjusting their course, but a quick consultation with Meinor convinced him to keep the tiller steady. The sea remained clear of reefs through the night, and depth readings confirmed that they were sailing into ever deeper parts of the northern Turbidus Ocean.

Mik rose before dawn once more, and sneaked a quick glance at the black diamond while Ula slept. The sea elf had been up late the previous evening, chatting guardedly with the crew and-once-even approaching Karista Meinor.

Whatever Ula had said, though, Karista soon retreated with Bok to her cabin. The look of frustration on the sea elf s face told Mik she’d made no progress with the singleminded aristocrat. Mik had retired at that point as well, and not wakened when Ula returned to her berth.

She did not stir that morning as he locked the diamond artifact back in his sea chest once more.

The salt breeze had shifted during the night, and now blew in strong from the west-where the immense thunderstorm still clung to the horizon. The waves began to pile up upon themselves, growing larger until their peaks danced away in sprays of white mist.

Kingfisher ran before the wind all that day. Karista and Bok fussed around the deck, nervously awaiting the outcome. Ula walked from stem to stem-alternately peering toward their hidden destination, and the pursuing storm.

As dusk drew near, Trip began jumping up and down on the sparring so vigorously that Mik feared he might topple off the mast.

“I see them!” Trip called. “I see the Dragon Isles!”

All movement on deck ceased, and many sailors stood and peered over the forward rails. Karista, Bok, and Ula went to the bow as well.

Mik shouted up to Trip. “Where away?”

“Five degrees to port!”

“But that’s not the course you’ve charted, captain,” Karista called.

“We’re on the course laid out by the stars,” Mik replied, testily.

“Will you believe an ancient prophecy, or the eyes of your lookout?” Ula asked. Mik shot her an angry glance, and she chuckled.

“The elf is right, captain,” Karista said. “If we can see the isles, we should steer straight for them.”

“You’re sure about the heading, Trip?”

“Positive, captain!”

“All right,” Mik said. “I trust Trip’s eyes more than I do writing on an old piece of paper. I’ll set our course by his sighting.”

He brought the helm around, and soon those on deck saw the tips of blue-green islands jutting out of the pale mist on the horizon. The Dragon Isles glittered like gems amid a turquoise sea.

The crew laughed and congratulated themselves. Trip continued to jump up and down excitedly atop the mast. Karista even kissed Bok on the lips. Only Ula stood quietly against the stem rail. A knowing smile played across the sea elf s beautiful face. Her odd demeanor worried Mik.

Tales of vast wealth, nearly within their reach, ran through the ship like wildfire. Soon, every hand not otherwise occupied had assembled on deck for a glimpse.

“The isles are exactly the way I remember them,” old Poul said. He wiped a tear from the comer of his eye with one wizened hand.

An occasional flash of brilliance high in the distant air caused the onlookers to gasp and point. Trip gave a whoop and nearly toppled out of the rigging.

“Dragons!” the crew whispered with a mixture of awe and fear.

“I thought the metallic dragons had left Krynn,” Bok said a bit nervously.