“Stay close by his side, sivak. He’ll probably sleep for a few hours yet, and I intend to be back by the time he wakes up. You need some rest, too.”
“What about you? You should rest too, elf.”
“Not me. I have unfinished work at the bottom of the lake.” The elf’s face was an emotionless mask as she stepped by Ragh and headed toward Nalis Aren.
Feril dived quickly through the blessedly warm water and swam through schools of sunfish and perch. It didn’t take her long to reach Qualinost and locate the enchanted crystal atop Kalilnama’s home. The cold seemed far worse than before, especially brutal and draining, but as weary and weak as the Kagonesti was, she wouldn’t retreat. She swam through an open window and down through the stairwell opening until she reached the second floor.
Obelia was there, as she’d hoped, along with Kalilnama and four other Qualinesti spirits.
The spirit of the aged elf rushed forward to warm her with a spell. “Elf-fish, elf-fish, we feared you were lost to Beryl’s protectors. We…”
Beryl’s protectors? For a brief instant she worried about provoking the spirits, suspecting they could harm her if they wanted. Still, she couldn’t contain her ire. You were among them, Obelia! You protected the accursed corpse as much as the ghost knights! You told me to take a scale from an overlord! You followed me to Beryl’s corpse! And then—despite your promises—you did nothing to help me. Nothing! It was as if you had gleefully handed me right over to…to….
Obelia hung his insubstantial head apologetically. “We didn’t know what would happen, elf-fish. Something…some force tied to the dragon and to the lake…maybe even tied to us, prevented us from helping you.”
“It’s the evil magic that’s left in the dead dragon,” Kalilnama explained. “It obviously sustains this lake and the spirits of those who died here. It also must have compelled us to protect the dragon’s remains. I find it most interesting that in death a dragon still has such great power. It bears studying, don’t you concur? Now that I know, I think it will give me something to occupy my time.”
Obelia came nose-to-nose with Feril. “There is certainly some evil force making those knights and goblins guard the body. Perhaps a spell cast when the dragon lived and whose power endures, and something caused us…forced us…to safeguard Beryl’s body. I can’t explain just what it was…something…maybe Kalilnama’s right and it’s the magic left in Beryl. Maybe it’s something inside of us.”
Scales…that was all I wanted, and what you told me I needed. You agreed, no—volunteered—to help me.
“I will help you this time, elf-fish. I promise.”
Feril’s expression softened a little.
“The powders and scrolls, we’ll take you to them,” Obelia continued. “Anything we can think of that will strengthen magic. Maps and items that will help you locate other scales without alerting the dragon who possesses them. Some dragons shed scales like snakes and lizards shed their skins, you know.”
Kalilnama rubbed his hands together, the fingers passing through each other. “We’ll help you find another dragon’s scales—not Beryl’s—to aid your cause.”
Beryl is so close! To leave now when that huge carcass is…
“There are other overlords, elf-fish. They’re not all dead like Beryl, are they? I believe that Beryl is too protected. Your chases will be better elsewhere.”
Thinking of the dead, bloated white beast that had destroyed the Qualinesti homeland, Feril saw that the elf spirits were right. She’d willingly go back and try again, no matter the odds, if it would help Dhamon, but she might be able to find dragon scales elsewhere without endangering herself. After all, there were other overlords—dead and alive—besides the one that ruled the Lake of Death. She nodded.
“The closest, if my memory does not fail me,” Kalilnama noted, “is the black called Sable. She lives somewhere on the other side of the mountains. The climate of the swamp will be easier to manage than the evil magic of the lake.”
You’ll tell me where these powders and scrolls are? And how I might use them?
“We’ll take you to them,” Obelia reiterated. His translucent fingers passed through her hands. “As before, you’ll have to do the gathering, elf-fish.”
Let’s be about it, then. Decisively, she opened her mind and flooded the elf spirits with images of the dead goblins and Dhamon, so they would understand how urgent her need was. I’ve spent too much time here already.
“I used to know an expert herbalist on Wildarth Lane,” Obelia said, nodding slowly as he saw what had happened to her, Dhamon, and Ragh. His fingers came up to work at the bridge of his overly long nose. “He had amazing powders on his shelves. Balms and unguents that elves would travel hundreds of miles to buy. Let’s go there and see what we can find to help you—and your friends.”
Kalilnama visibly brightened, and he wrung his hands together faster than ever. “Yes, Halarigh Starsong, the herbalist was. My wife spent much of my gold on his curious wares. Fine spell components he carried—at high prices. Halarigh and his family were a little greedy, but they sold only the best.” The ghost paused and his face took on a wistful aspect. “He couldn’t have carried everything off with him, and the lake couldn’t have ruined everything left behind.”
“And I remember a few sorcerers,” Obelia continued, “whose houses we should visit.”
“Don’t forget my wife’s scrolls,” Kalilnama said, “and then there’s…”
They moved quickly for ghosts, but not as quickly as Feril would have wanted. For one thing, the insubstantial ghosts could not physically propel themselves through the water. They floated like flotsam and seemed ignorant of time.
From one abandoned shop they took her to, Feril selected two large satchels made from the hide of a beast she wasn’t familiar with. In the bottom of one she put a pair of leggings and a tunic for herself, then she found something that she thought might fit Dhamon…when he became human again. The other satchel she filled with jars, scroll tubes, and well-stoppered vials that Kalilnama, Obelia, and their ghostly associates insisted contained promising materials.
She also gathered a handful of small, jeweled trinkets that she guessed might be valuable and filled a small pouch with steel pieces. Little was free in the world above, and now she would have a means to pay for things if the need arose.
“One more place to visit,” Obelia told her.
They were on the roof of Kalilnama’s home again with more than a dozen curious Qualinesti spirits fluttering around them. Feril plucked the enchanted pear-shaped crystal off the roof and stuffed it under the clothes in the satchel. The water surrounding them instantly became eerily darker without the magical light.
“Follow me, elf-fish. We will be going alone now, just you and me.”
Feril said good-bye to Kalilnama and the others, shuddering from the cold when their hands passed through her. They begged her to return and tell them if she was successful in her mission to turn the dragon into a man again. Though she detested the notion of coming back here, she agreed she might, because after all, they had been so helpful. They would show some of the famous sights of the city then, they insisted. She offered a word of heartfelt thanks to Kalilnama, then she followed the spirit elf Obelia as he beckoned her toward his watery home.
“Believe me when I say I am grateful you did not die by the spirits of the knights. I had prayed to all the gods, elf-fish, that you would come back to this lake and would not give up just because you failed to obtain one of Beryl’s scales.”