Geran swung wildly, keeping the dead crewmen at bay. Then he used his teleport spell, choosing a spot on the other side of a large building’s crumbling wall. He appeared in a tangle of underbrush, slipped, and then climbed to his feet. Sheathing his sword and cupping his light closely, he scrambled through the ruins at the best speed he could manage, hoping that he’d given himself the head start he needed to escape from the vengeful crew. He could hear them scrabbling over the rubble and moaning in frustration behind him.
Geran pressed on, ducking through ruined doorways and climbing over decaying walls until he could no longer hear Moonshark’s undead crew behind him. He slowed down, moving more cautiously, and found a street leading downhill-toward the harbor, he guessed. He made his way down through an area of dense overgrowth, fighting his way through thorny thickets, and then emerged on the shore. He couldn’t see if Seadrake was still out in the harbor, but Moonshark’s battered hulk creaked in the gusts somewhere not too far away.
“I hope Hamil and the rest are out there somewhere,” he muttered. He shrugged the satchel off his shoulder, took out the starry compass and tucked it inside his shirt, and put the small stone with its light spell in the satchel. Then he went down to the water’s edge and held the satchel open, facing out toward the harbor. The satchel shielded the stone’s bright glow from anyone in the ruins above and behind him, but allowed the bright blue-white illumination to show toward anyone out at sea.
They might have had to pull off, he told himself. He’d seen a number of gargoyles flying out to attack the ship while the landing party battled the monsters on the shore. For that matter, it was possible that Seadrake’s crew had met the same end as Moonshark’s, torn to pieces to a man. But then, faintly, he saw a yellow light far out on the water shining back at him. It gave two short blinks.
Geran lowered himself to the rocky beach and hunkered under his sodden cloak. He kept a wary eye on the dark bluffs behind him, half expecting the beat of gargoyle wings or a sudden rush from the shadows by his former shipmates. Half an hour later, he heard the muffled clinking of oarlocks and the soft splash of oars in the water.
Geran, is that you? Hamil asked silently.
“I’m here, Hamil!” Geran called. He pushed himself to his feet and limped out to meet Seadrake’s boat. Ten Shieldsworn pulled the oars; Hamil stood in the bow with an arrow on his bowstring, and Sarth scanned the skies nervously from the stern.
The halfling vaulted over the bow and splashed ashore. “Where have you been? What happened? Are you hurt?”
“The curse on these ruins interfered with my divinations,” Sarth added. “In truth, we feared you were dead.”
“Am I hurt? Yes, but nothing fatal. As for the rest, I’ll tell you the tale on the way back to the ship.” Geran could not suppress a shiver. “I found the rest of Moonshark’s crew. They’re all dead … but they don’t rest yet. The King in Copper’s got them.”
“Aesperus?” Hamil frowned and shook his head. “I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone, not even Skamang. You’re lucky we didn’t leave you here with them; we intended to sail at first light.”
Geran glanced once more at the ruins of Sulasspryn and shuddered. “The sooner we’re away from this accursed spot, the better.” He and Hamil climbed into the longboat, and they shoved off the shore and rowed through the rain back out to the waiting ship.
TWENTY-THREE
16 Marpenoth, the Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)
When they returned to Seadrake, Geran learned that they’d lost nine men from the landing party and two more aboard Seadrake-a heavy toll, but not as bad as he’d feared in the first chaotic moments of the gargoyle attack. Many more were injured to a greater or lesser extent, but Brother Larken, the young friar who sailed as the ship’s prelate, proved to be an able healer. After the first skirmish with the gargoyles, Larken saved the lives of several severely injured men and repaired injuries that might have crippled others. He looked after Geran as soon as Hamil and his rescue party brought the swordmage back on board, speaking healing prayers over the worst of his injuries. Geran met the morning stiff and sore, but his left wrist was knitting, and he was able to stand up straight on the quarterdeck with only a few aches and pains to remind him of his hours among the ruins.
Behind them, Sulasspryn receded into the morning mists. The rain had finally slowed in the hour before dawn, becoming a steady drizzle instead of a downpour. The first thing Geran did as they sailed away from the ruins was to summon Seadrake’s carpenter-one of the sons of old Master Therndon, Hulburg’s master shipwright-to the quarterdeck and start him working on a frame for the starry compass similar to the one that was on Moonshark.
Andurth Galehand watched the carpenter with a disapproving frown. Many dwarves didn’t think much of arcane magic, and seafarers were a superstitious lot in the best of circumstances. After a moment he shook his head and turned to speak to Geran. “We’re standing sou’west because that was the best course to take us away from Sulasspryn,” he said. “But I reckon we’re clear now. What course, m’lord?”
Geran glanced up at the sky. The overcast seemed like it would be with them for a while yet, and the gusty winds of the previous night had settled into another steady blow from the northwest. He didn’t think it would matter much where they were when they used the starry compass, but it couldn’t hurt to steer toward Umberlee’s Talons. That was where Kraken Queen had left the Moonsea, after all. On the other hand, if Aesperus had been speaking truthfully through Murkelmor and Skamang, then he ought to consider turning toward Hulburg instead. “Keep her on this heading for a while,” he finally told the sailing master. “I’m not sure where we’re bound, but we might as well work westward while I’m thinking about it. We might return to Hulburg before we do anything else.”
“Aye, m’lord,” Galehand answered. “Steady as she goes.”
Geran decided that it wouldn’t help the carpenter finish any faster if he stood and watched the fellow work, and went below to his cabin. He sent his steward to ask Hamil and Sarth to join him then sent the young fellow off to fetch a hearty breakfast from the galley. When his friends arrived, he motioned for them to join him at the table.
“I told you that I met Murkelmor and some of Moonshark’s crew during the night,” he began. “I didn’t want to say more around the crew or the armsmen, but here’s the rest of the tale: They carried a message from the King in Copper. Aesperus said that if I continued after Mirya, Hulburg would fall into the power of a forgotten enemy … whatever that means. But if I abandon Mirya to protect the harmach, both she and Selsha would be lost. The Black Moon would escape us, and a different disaster would befall Hulburg in years to come.”
“A grim prophecy,” Sarth observed. “Doom awaits on either hand.”
“So it would seem,” Geran said. He leaned back in his chair, gazing out the stern windows at the shore behind them, now a dim gray line along the horizon. He could see nothing more of Sulasspryn.
“Do you have any reason to believe that the King in Copper is telling the truth?” Hamil asked.
“I have no reason to think that he isn’t. I only met the King in Copper once, but I came away with the impression that he’s not the sort to waste words. In his eyes, the living aren’t worth lying to.”