“Tika...”
“Caramon!” Forgetting Zebulah, Tika ran to the warrior, who was struggling to sit up.
“Where in the name of the Abyss are we?” he asked, looking around with wide eyes. “What happened? The ship—”
“I’m—I’m not sure,” Tika faltered. “Do you feel well enough to sit? Perhaps you should lie down...”
“I’m all right,” Caramon snapped. Then, feeling her flinch at his harshness, he reached out and pulled her in his arms. “I’m sorry, Tika. Forgive me. It’s just... I...” He shook his head.
“I understand,” Tika said softly. Resting her head on his chest, she told him about Zebulah and the sea elves. Caramon listened, blinking in confusion as he slowly absorbed all he heard. Scowling, he looked at the door.
“I wish I’d been conscious,” he muttered. “That Zebulah character knows the way out, more than likely. I’d have made him show us.”
“I’m not so sure,” Tika said dubiously. “He’s a magic-user like—” She broke off hurriedly. Seeing the pain in Caramon’s face, she nestled closer to him, reaching up to stroke his face.
“Do you know, Caramon,” she said softly, “he’s right in a way. We could be happy here. Do you realize, this is the first time we’ve ever been alone. I mean really and truly alone together? And it’s so still and peaceful and beautiful in a way. The glowing light from the moss is so soft and eerie, not harsh and glaring like sunlight. And listen to the water murmuring, its singing to us. Then there’s this old, old furniture, and this funny bed...”
Tika stopped talking. She felt Caramon’s arms tighten around her. His lips brushed her hair. Her love for him surged through her, making her heart stand still with pain and longing. Swiftly she put her arms around him, holding him close, feeling his heart beat against hers.
“Oh, Caramon!” she whispered breathlessly. “Let’s be happy! Please! I—I know that—that sometime we’ll have to leave. We’ll have to find the others and return to the world above. But for now, let’s be alone—together!”
“Tika!” Caramon clasped her, crushing her to him as if he would mold their bodies into one, single, living being. “Tika, I love you! I—I told you once that I couldn’t make you mine until I could commit myself to you completely. I can’t do that—not yet.”
“Yes, you can!” Tika said fiercely. Pushing away from him, she looked into his eyes. “Raistlin’s gone, Caramon! You can make your own life!”
Caramon shook his head gently. “Raistlin’s still a part of me. He always will be, just as I’ll always be a part of him. Can you understand?”
No, she couldn’t, but she nodded anyway, her head drooping.
Smiling, Caramon drew a quivering breath. Then he put his hand beneath her chin and raised her head. Her eyes were beautiful, he thought. Green with flecks of brown. They shimmered now with tears. Her skin was tan from living outdoors and more freckled than ever. Those freckles embarrassed her. Tika would have given seven years of her life for creamy skin like Laurana’s. But Caramon loved every freckle, he loved the crisp, curling red hair that clung to his hands.
Tika saw the love in his eyes. She caught her breath. He drew her near. His heart beating faster, he whispered, “I’ll give you what I can of myself, Tika, if you’ll settle for that. I wish, for your sake, it was more.”
“I love you!” was all she said, clasping him around the neck.
He wanted to be certain she understood. “Tika—” he began.
“Hush, Caramon. . .”
16
Apoletta.
After a long chase through the streets of a city whose crumbling beauty seemed a horror to Tanis, they entered one of the lovely palaces in the center. Running through a dead garden and into a hall, they rounded a corner and came to a halt. The red-robed man was nowhere to be seen.
“Stairs!” Riverwind said suddenly. His own eyes growing accustomed to the strange light, Tanis saw they were standing at the top of a flight of marble stairs that descended so steeply they had lost sight of their quarry. Hurrying to the landing, they could once more see the red robes fluttering down them.
“Keep in the shadows near the wall,” Riverwind cautioned, motioning them to the side of the stairway that was big enough for fifty men to walk down it abreast.
Faded and cracked murals on the walls were still so exquisite and life-like that Tanis had the fevered impression the people portrayed there were more alive than he was. Perhaps some of them had been standing in this very spot when the fiery mountain struck the Temple of the Kingpriest... Putting the thought out of his mind, Tanis kept going.
After running down about twenty steps, they came to a broad landing, decorated with life-size statues of silver and gold. From here, the stairs continued down, leading to another landing, leading to more steps, and so on until they were all exhausted and breathless. Still the red robes fluttered ahead of them.
Suddenly Tanis noticed a change in the air. It was becoming more humid, the smell of the sea was strong. Listening, he could hear the faint sounds of water lapping against stone. He felt Riverwind touch his arm, pulling him back into the shadows. They were near the bottom of the steps. The red-robed man was in front of them, standing at the very bottom, peering into a pool of dark water that stretched out before him into a vast, shadowy cavern.
The red-robed man knelt by the side of the water. And then Tanis was aware of another figure; this one in the water! He could see hair shining in the torchlight—it had a faint greenish cast. Two slender white arms rested on the stone steps, the rest of the figure was submerged. The figure’s head lay cradled on its arms, in a state of complete relaxation. The red-robed man reached out a hand and gently touched the figure in the water. The figure raised its head.
“I have been waiting,” a woman’s voice said, sounding reproachful.
Tanis gasped. The woman spoke elven! Now he could see her face, the large, luminous eyes, pointed ears, delicate features....
A sea elf!
Confused tales from his childhood came back to Tanis as he tried to follow the conversation of the red-robed man and the elven woman, who was smiling at him fondly.
“I’m sorry, beloved,” the red-robed man said soothingly, in elven, sitting down beside her. “I went to see how the young man you were concerned about was doing. He’ll be all right, now. It was a close one, though. You were correct. He was certainly intent on dying. Something about his brother—a magic-user—betraying him.”
“Caramon!” Tanis murmured. Riverwind looked at him questioningly. The Plainsman could not, of course, follow the elven conversation. Tanis shook his head, not wanting to miss what else was said.
“QueaKI’ICHKeecx” said the woman in scorn. Tanis was puzzled, that word was certainly not elven!
“Yes!” The man frowned. “After I made sure those two were safe, I went to see some of the others. One of them—a bearded fellow, a half-elf, leaped at me as if he would swallow me whole! The others we managed to save are doing well.”
“We laid out the dead with ceremony,” said the woman, and Tanis could hear the ages-old sorrow in her voice, the sorrow of the elves for the loss of life.
“I would have liked to ask them what they were doing in the Blood Sea of Istar. I’ve never known a ship’s captain foolish enough to dare the maelstrom. The girl told me there’s war going on above. Maybe they had no choice.”
The elven woman playfully splashed water on the red-robed man. “There’s always war going on above! You are too curious, my beloved. Sometimes I think you might leave me and return to your world. Especially after you talk with these KreeaQUEKH.”
Tanis heard a note of true concern in the woman’s voice, though she was still playfully splashing the man.
The red-robed man leaned down and kissed her on the wet, greenish hair shining in the light of the sputtering torch on the wall above them. “No, Apoletta. Let them have their wars and their brothers who betray brothers. Let them have their impetuous half-elves and their foolish sea captains. As long as my magic serves me, I will live below the waves—”