Stephen Sullivan - The Dragon Isles

She threw her head back, shook her long platinum-colored hair off her smooth shoulders, and took a long drink of water. As she put the skin down she sighed contentedly and said, “Maybe tomorrow, I’ll be up for something a bit stronger.”

Mik nodded, unable for a moment to find his tongue.

Ula laughed. “You look as though you need rest almost as much as I do.”

“Yes,” he said absently. “I’ll need all my wits about me the next few days.”

“Where are you headed?”

“A place that may not exist,” he replied, “the Dragon Isles.”

“The Dragon Isles? Oh, they exist, all right,” she said.

He regarded her skeptically. “How can you be so sure?”

She yawned and lay down on her cot once more. “I lived there… once. A long time ago.” She reached beside die cot and rescued her blanket from the floor.

“Perhaps you could help us find the place, then,” Mik said. He crossed to his sea chest, pulled out a rolled silk tapestry, and rigged it to hang down the middle of the cabin, between her bed and his hammock.

“Perhaps I could,” she said with a smile. “For a price. Everything has its price.”

“You’d have to take that up with Milady Meinor,” Mik said. “She’s financing this expedition.”

“I’d rather take it up with you,” she replied sleepily. “In the morning.”

“In the morning then,” he said.

Mik blew out the hanging lamp and retired to his hammock, but he didn’t sleep very well. His dreams were plagued by glittering diamonds, and the gemstones hanging at the sea elf s slender waist.

“Mik! Mik, wake up! It’s nearly dawn.” The sea captain immediately recognized the kender’s small voice buzzing in his ear, but felt reluctant to open his eyes.

“Tell your pup to keep it down,” Ula called from the other side of the makeshift screen.

“I’m not a pup,” Trip said, “though I’ve had people call me a minnow before-people I like, that is. You could call me that, if I decide I like you. I did have an uncle who got turned into a dog once, though. Great Uncle Figswallow…”

“The savage deep save us from kender in the morning!” Ula cried. A muffled sound from her side of the curtain indicated that she’d pulled the covers up over her head.

Mik laughed, rolled out of his hammock, and stretched. “Sleep in if you want,” he called to Ula. “I’m sure you need the time to recover.”

She sighed. “No, I’m fine,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll feel better after my morning swim.” She rose and pulled back the curtain. “Assuming my back recovers from this cot.” She stretched her long limbs, looking very alluring, even in the dim, predawn light.

“Sorry about the accommodations,” Mik said, trying not to stare. “There’s not much room in a caravel-and I doubt milady Meinor would deign to share her cabin.”

“I’d share my cabin- if I had one.” Trip shrugged.

“Karista’s gallantry ends at the point her self-interest begins, I’m afraid,” Mik added.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ula replied. “I’m used to cramped quarters. And this is a fair sight better than where you found me. Where’s that sunburn oil you’ve been putting on me?”

Mik retrieved it from a shelf nearby and handed it to her. Ula poured some oil into her hands and began to smooth it over the vast expanses of her exposed blue skin. Mik found it hard to believe that only yesterday she had seemed near death.

“Are you going to swim home when you feel up to it?” Trip asked.

Ula laughed-a light, musical sound. “Home-when I had one-was a long way from here. Too far to swim.” She smiled, and her eyes glinted predatorily. “You’re headed in the right direction, generally, but you’ll never get to the place in the isles where you’re headed, without my help.”

A cold chill ran down Mik’s spine. “How do you know where we’re going?” he asked.

“I read the Prophecy,” she reminded him. “And I’m no fool, Mik Vardan, though I certainly met you through foolish circumstance.”

“She knows about the Prophecy?” Trip asked, looking quizzically at Mik.

“Yes, she found the parchment and the artifact,” Mik replied irritatedly. “We forgot to pack them away in the chest before she woke up.”

Trip screwed up his small face. “Well, no harm done, I guess. Everyone on ship knows.” His brows drew together in concern. “Maybe we shouldn’t let her swim away, though. She might have friends nearby.”

“The only ‘friends’ I have nearby tied me to that raft,” Ula replied. “Besides, I’m not going anywhere until we’ve recovered that treasure.”

“She knows about the treasure, too?” Trip asked.

Mik nodded grimly.

Trip ran his small fingers through his blond hair. “Oh, yeah. It was in the Prophecy.”

“As I said,” Ula interjected, “you’ll never find the treasure without my assistance. You won’t even find the Dragon Isles. I’m willing to help, though, for a price.”

“And that price would be… ?” Mik asked.

“A share in the treasure-when we find it.”

“What do you need more treasure for?” asked Trip, eyeing her bejeweled costume. “It looks to me like you’re wearing plenty of treasure.”

“These old things?” Ula replied, running her slender fingers over a few of the pieces. “Looks are deceiving. My people use such trinkets as money. Steel doesn’t survive so well underwater.”

A frown crept over Mik’s bearded face. “Why didn’t your former crewmates on the Golden Harvest steal your jewelry before they cast you adrift?”

“They were afraid to touch any of it,” she said with a slight grin. “I told them the jewels were cursed.”

“Cursed? Really?” the kender said, his hazel eyes lighting up.

“Deadly cursed,” the beautiful elf said, straight-faced.

“Sleek,” replied Trip, awe in his small voice.

“Why do we need you to find the Dragon Isles?” Mik said. “We have the Prophecy. We’re on course. According to the parchment, we should reach our goal before the end of the day tomorrow.”

She smiled again, finished oiling her long limbs, and set the bottle back on the shelf. “It’s not so easy as you think.”

“How would you know?”

“I grew up there. The Dragon Isles don’t let just anyone in. You need to know the secret.”

“What secret?”

“If she told us,” said Trip helpfully, “then it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?”

Mik scowled at him. “I’ll discuss it with Karista,” he said.

Ula nodded.

“Now, I need to get on deck and check our course before the stars set.”

“I’ll go with you,” she replied.

“Me, too,” Trip added.

The morning air was crisp, with a stiff, salty breeze blowing from the south. The wind raised goosebumps on Mik’s tanned skin, but seemed to have little effect on Ula. Living underwater, she must be used to the cold, Mik thought.

He reached reflexively for the enchanted fish necklace at his throat, then remembered he’d put it in his sea chest the previous evening. Wearing it too long became tiring and caused more of its jeweled scales to flake off. Mik knew the magic inside it wouldn’t last forever. It was fading, like all the other enchantments in the world-and needed to be used sparingly. The lost gods willing, he’d have no need of the necklace today.

Mik took the tiller from the night helmsman, and adjusted their course to better follow the Great Silver River toward the Seven Cities constellation. Clouds were blowing in from the south, so he made some final calculations to help steer them through the day.