No one claimed a place among the Red Wizards without facing fiends and other horrors that common folk could scarcely imagine. Still, Umara’s heart pounded, and she had to bite back a moan.
She needed to get hold of herself before Evendur noticed anything amiss. She tried to let go of the talisman, but her fingers wouldn’t stop clutching it. She took a breath, focused the trained will of a wizard on performing that simple action, and her digits slowly unclenched. Evendur reverted to the rotting hulk she’d first encountered, and vile as that creature was, she almost felt grateful to him for masking the greater horror that used him as a spy hole and a conduit.
“What am I seeing?” he asked.
“The defection of Daerlun,” she replied. “With the beginning of summer, First Lord Gascam Highbanner betrayed Prince Irvel with the results you’ve now seen.” Deprived of her concentration, the illusory struggle began to blur and fade.
“How do you know?” Evendur demanded.
She smiled. “Captain, you’ve made it plain you deem my powers weak compared to those granted by your goddess, and I don’t contest the point. Still, Thayan scrying and divination have their uses.”
“Maybe so,” Evendur said, “but how does treachery in the war in the west concern me?”
“Prince Irvel and his army were the great hope of Cormyr,” Umara said. “Now that they’ve come to grief, Sembia will soon win the war. Then it-and the conquered vassal state it will make of its foe-will be free to turn its attention to any power that threatens its interests anywhere around the Inner Sea. It will have a strong, seasoned navy and army to bring to bear, and this … tacit theocracy you’re building may need allies to withstand them.”
The pirate priest shook his swollen, all but neckless head; the dangling mustachios and strands of beard like black, slimy seaweed flopped back and forth. “I doubt it. By the time the Sembians and the shades pulling their strings turn their attention to me, the church of Umberlee will control every port and coast, no matter who the nominal lord may be. And if my enemies succeed in bringing a force against me even so, the goddess will give me the strength to smash them.”
“I mean no irreverence, Captain, when I point out that the Queen of the Depths, mighty as she is, isn’t the only deity in the world, nor is hers the only priesthood.”
At last, Evendur’s corpse face twisted into an expression Umara could interpret: a sneer. “They’re the only ones that matter hereabouts. I’m making sure of it. Go home and tell Szass Tam that if he approaches me with the proper reverence, I may look on his petitions with favor. If not, Thayans can expect ill winds, sea serpents, and yes, the attentions of my pirates, whenever they set sail from Bezantur. The waveservant will show you out.” He turned and strode out through one of the doorways along the wall.
Umara sighed and reached for Kymas with her thoughts. Did you follow all that? she asked.
Yes, replied the vampire mage. The creature’s an arrogant buffoon. Even though the words were scornful, the underlying feeling wasn’t. Kymas was impressed, perhaps even rattled, as his lieutenant had never known him before. Had they been conversing in the normal way, he likely would have concealed any trace of it beneath a facade of urbane imperturbability, but that was more difficult with their psyches linked.
Whatever you think of Highcastle’s judgment, Umara said, he manifestly is a Chosen. But now that we’ve established that, what are we supposed to do about it?
You know, my dear. You know.
That’s fine to say, but how are we supposed to manage it? Looking through my eyes, you saw how strong the creature is and, when I used the talisman, perceived his spiritual strength as well, but for argument’s sake, let’s say our wizardry could overpower him. We’d also have to contend with all the temple defenses, mystical and mundane, get off Pirate Isle, and escape across stormy seas that the raiders know how to sail better than our mariners ever will.
I’ll think of something, Kymas said. I haven’t worked as long as I have and climbed as high as I have only to fail Szass Tam now.
Umara might have found that dauntless attitude more inspiring if she hadn’t suspected that only she and Kymas’s other servants would have to pay the ultimate price for failure. She’d fall with a half-uttered spell on her lips, and the legionnaires would drop with bloody swords sliding from their hands, while the vampire slipped away to safety in the form of a fluttering bat or drifting mist.
It wasn’t that Kymas was cowardly. She’d known him to brave considerable dangers when he judged circumstances warranted it. But never to spare or save one of his mortal agents. In his eyes, the living were so far beneath him that he sent them to their deaths with no more hesitation than a lanceboard player sacrificing pawns.
“Saer?” said a half-familiar voice. Umara blinked and discerned that in the moment when she’d turned her attention inward-or to the undead mage secreted on the Thayan vessel in the harbor, depending on how one cared to look at it-her escort had approached her. “The Chosen said it’s time for you to go.”
“Of course,” she said, “lead on.” The cleric-who had the hard, truculent look of a youth who’d been a pirate until recently-turned away, and she started whispering a spell.
She was trying to be stealthy about it, but the waveservant either heard her or simply sensed something amiss. He jerked back around with the tines of his trident dropping to threaten her.
Then she spoke the final word of the rhyming incantation, and the pugnacity in his face gave way to blinking confusion. That in turn melted into chagrin, and he hastily turned the points of his weapon away from her.
“I’m sorry!” he said. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Umara smiled. “It’s all right. Something just startled you, I suppose.”
The young priest shook his head. “I suppose. Still, if I hurt one of Captain Highcastle’s guests …”
“If you want to make it up to me, how about letting me look around a little? I’ll come back to the main entrance when I’m ready to leave.”
He hesitated. “The Chosen said to show you out.”
“That’s exactly what you will do after I’ve looked my fill.” Hoping he found her attractive-she’d observed that non-Thayan men sometimes did despite the shaved head and tattoos they deemed bizarre-she gave him a smile. “Please? The temple is magnificent, and I know you need to get back to your post.”
The waveservant sighed. “I guess I do. Otherwise, I’d show you around myself. Just don’t be too long, all right?” Resting his trident on his shoulder, he took his leave.
That was risky, Kymas observed. What if the beguilement failed?
It didn’t, Umara replied, and now I can search.
For what?
Anything that will help us.
She skulked to one of the doorways behind the well. Beyond it was a smaller room where a cylindrical screen revolved around a greenish magical flame. The screen had shark shapes on it, and thus the light cast shadows of sharks circling the walls. Gold and silver gleamed atop an altar hewn from coral.
A common thief would likely have been happy to snatch the offerings and flee, and for a moment, her pride in her heritage and arcane accomplishments notwithstanding, Umara rather wished she was one. Then she thrust the feckless thought aside and prowled on into the next chamber, and the one after that.