Джеффри Лорд: The Crystal Seas

The jerk broke Blade's grip as though it were the grip of a child. He sailed into the air, losing his grip on the other dagger as he went. For a ghastly moment he thought he was going to crash down on the rocks. Then he saw crystal-clear blue-green water underneath him, the gray shapes of weed-grown rocks lurking below the surface. He had just time enough to take a deep breath and close his mouth before he plunged into the water.

The shock nearly knocked Blade's wind out of him. He plunged under, going deep, feeling the coolness and the stinging of the salt in his wounds. He churned furiously with arms and legs, trying to keep himself off the rocks. He could still smash into them hard enough to-

Ten feet down, he hit the rocks. But he did not hit hard enough to do any damage-just hard enough to knock the rest of the breath out of him. He clawed for the surface, feeling his lungs burn and seeing the water around him turn black. Then he burst back up into the sunlight and the air.

For a moment he was too busy gulping in air to worry about the creature. Then he realized that the only sound around him was the wind and the rumble of the waves on the rocks. The hissing, the screams, the scraping of twenty scaly tons on rock-they were gone. Blade trod water and raised his head to look toward the reef. His eyes widened in surprise. The creature lay sprawled motionless across the reef, head almost at the water's edge. Blood from its wounds dripped down onto the rocks and into the water. Already small fish were darting frantically around in the blood-darkened water.

Blade found it hard to believe that the creature had died so quickly, so easily. But in any case he had better get out of the water before any larger and hungrier fish were drawn to the blood. He caught a projecting rock and hauled himself up on the reef with only a few more scratches.

As he did, something on the creature's head flashed sunlight into his eyes. He blinked and looked hard. Something metallic was glinting from the base of the skull. Blade stepped over to the corpse and looked down.

It was a crossbow bolt, a shaft of iron-hard wood driven deep into the base of the creature's skull with almost surgical precision. Blade reached down to pull it out. It was driven in so deeply that he had to use both hands and brace his foot against the scaly skin before he could pull the bolt out. It was a good two feet long, tipped with translucent green stone and finned with what looked like thin-sliced bone.

Where had it come from? Blade didn't know. He wasn't at all happy about not knowing, either. Whoever had fired that bolt into the creature's skull could very well still be lurking within range, ready and perhaps willing to put a second bolt through his own skull. Blade was even unhappier about that idea. He promptly went to cover behind a large rock, then shifted position until he was at least partly covered on all four sides. Very cautiously he raised his head and slowly scanned a complete circle around him.

The cliffs? No, they were out of range, unless the crossbow had the range and power of an antitank gun. The reef itself? There was certainly enough cover along the quarter-mile of tumbled rocks to hide a battalion of archers. But where could they have come from? And in any case, that bolt looked as though it had come from another direction-from the sea. Except that there was nothing visible out to sea. Nothing except the swell and surge of the blue-green waves, little flickers of foam, and the gold sparkle of the sun. No ships, no boats, not even a raft or a-

Wait a minute! There was something in the water about two hundred yards out. Blade rose partly out of cover to get a better look. Yes, something was out there. A small dark shape like a human head, then another, then a third. Swimmers? Divers? Blade ducked down again; so did the heads. On the surface of the water there was suddenly a smooth patch, as though a large fish had dived.

Blade didn't quite like the way those heads had disappeared. It didn't look like the movements of human swimmers. That was the least pleasant thought of all. But he was also curious to see what might be lurking out there, under those crystal seas. Once again he cautiously raised himself to get a better look.

This time he saw them clearly. Far down in the water, perhaps a hundred feet or more, were three moving shapes. They had human form, but no human ever moved so smoothly, so effortlessly through deep water. There was no sign of breathing gear either, not even a silver flash of escaping bubbles. There were mermen down there. Something-somebody-human or humanoid was down there, as much at home in the crystal seas as any fish.

Now the three were rising toward the surface, rising toward Blade. One of them carried a crossbow; the other two carried spears. Blade saw the light glint on the spearheads as they rose toward him. No, definitely, they were not wearing any breathing gear. They slid upward through the water with nothing on their lithe bodies, except fins on their feet and belts and loin-guards around their waists. Blade rummaged around to find another handy-sized throwing stone. But he hoped he wouldn't have another fight on his hands. These-beings-were armed. That meant intelligence, and perhaps the chance of friendship. If they would just continue their approach-

They did. Now Blade could make out that one of them was female-unmistakably, magnificently female. There was a pale bluish tinge to her skin and a deep greenness in her hair. But there was also a lithe and lush body that rose through the water with almost frightening ease and grace. The three were less than twenty feet down now. In another moment Blade knew he would almost be able to read the expressions on those silvery-blue faces with their great golden eyes. Would they be friendly or-? He dropped the stone and got ready to stand up and hold his hands out peacefully.

In an instant the three merpeople had stiffened, going rigid and almost vertical in the water. They seemed to be listening for something, their heads turning back and forth. Then in a movement of unearthly grace, they flipped head downward. Finned feet kicking furiously, they plummeted down into the sea, until he could no longer make them out even as flickers of movement in the depths. Then he raised his head and saw why they had dived away.

A large ship with two masts and three square sails was rounding the point to the left. One of the sails was a dull silvery-gray, and on it was a black trident. Its deck was littered with barrels and boxes, and its railing lined with people.

Blade stood up and began waving frantically. He was not surprised when some of the people at the ship's railing began waving back or when others began lowering a small boat over the railing. But he was almost disappointed as well. The ship's crew looked like normal human beings, and there would probably be less danger among them. But now he might never have anything more to do with the merpeople than that one tantalizing almost-meeting. Unsatisfied curiosity nagged at Blade as he sat on his rock and watched the boat row toward him.

Blade's disappointment pretty well vanished aboard the ship. He sat in the captain's cabin, drinking seaweed cordial and having the captain's daughter Svera smear ointment on his battered hide. Gradually the merpeople drifted into the back of his mind.

Fart of this was because of the conversation; the rest of it was Svera herself, a tall and exceedingly full-bosomed young woman with a tanned and freckled face and blue-black hair done up in two braids. The face and hairdo looked girlish, but the figure definitely did not. Nor did the looks she was giving Blade from her wide blue eyes, as she smeared on the ointment. It seemed to Blade that she was smearing it on much more slowly and thoroughly than was really necessary. He found it hard to keep his mind on his conversation with the captain.