Alemar sighed, glad that the mists concealed the forest. He imagined he heard a mournful rythni song coming from the trees. A minuscule crab scuttled over his foot and into a crack between the planks.
"Hold your head up," Elenya said, chiding him. "Gloroc would laugh if he could see you now."
He met her gaze. To his surprise, tears trickled down her cheeks, too. She had changed a great deal in the past month. Their amulets flashed, and suddenly they were speaking mind to mind.
"I want one of the Dragon's teeth to put above my hearth," she bespoke. "Think you can get one without skewering yourself on it?"
"I'll bring you two," he answered with a buoyancy he did not feel. "Just find a hearth to hold them, and keep it safe until I return."
"A bargain," she said aloud, and turned away, fading quickly into the murk, leaving Wynneth alone with him.
His wife said nothing, nor did she come forward. Finally he stepped over to her. He held her, and slowly, she returned the embrace, as if she wanted to withhold it but could not bring herself to retreat completely.
"I'll return," he promised her. "And when I do, I'll never leave you again."
She frowned, skepticism blatant. Then she kissed him fiercely and virtually ran after her sister-in-law. Her lantern's glow lingered on the edge of visibility for the count of three heartbeats.
Alemar bowed his head again and hopped into the boat. The fisherman grunted and ordered his sons to cast off. They cleared the dock and as soon as the fisherman's brawny offspring gave three heaves on the oars, the dock and the coast vanished behind them.
Morning came. The mist brightened from shades of charcoal dust to light ash. A breeze awakened, died, and awakened again. The crew set aside the oars and hoisted their sail. Heavily loaded, the craft rode low. Occasional gusts drenched the occupants. The swells lured bile up their throats.
Alemar hunkered near the prow, ignoring the salty spray, thinking of Wynneth.
Toren looked ill. Geim seemed better off, but of all the party, only Match and Ebben, veterans of the sea, seemed comfortable, if anyone could be in such weather.
They cleared the fog bank two hours after sunrise, emerging into bright, late summer heat and light as suddenly as if a curtain had been drawn back. Behind them the grey mass brooded, daring the sun to burn it off the coast.
The fisherman cast an apprehensive eye at the horizon, as did Alemar. The Dragon's ships patrolled this coast with diligence. They saw no masts or sails.
"Time to go," the fisherman said.
Alemar nodded, slipped a pearl ring off his finger and whistled through it. He repeated it at intervals. Achird rose toward zenith and drew the dampness from their clothing. Alemar did not realize until then how chill the splashes and the fog had made him. He indulged in the change. It would be many days before he would be this dry again.
The dorsal fins of dolphins broke the surface in the distance, and Ebben cried out. Alemar lifted the ring again and whistled the tune that Obo had taught him years before. The princes of the sea heard and six of them surrounded the fishing boat.
The fisherman's sons released the sheets and their father pointed the boat directly into the wind. Sails fluttering uselessly, they coasted to a stop, then began slowly drifting backward-"in irons" as sailors termed it.
"My thanks," Alemar told the old sea man.
The fisherman doffed his wool cap. "Gut that dragon like a salmon. That's gratitude enough."
"We'll try," Alemar replied. He and the other five stripped off their fisherman's garb, revealing diving skins and vests. They took airmakers, weapons, and flasks of drinking water from a niche hidden beneath one of the benches. Alemar checked both Vanihr to be sure they were appropriately prepared, then slid rump first into the waves.
One by one the others followed. The bubbles cleared. They swam out of the path of the vessel's keel. The dolphins dutifully offered their fins. Each man grasped one and they were off, propelled by the creatures' powerful flukes. A thrill ran down Alemar's spine, recalling the first time he had travelled this way at the age of eight. The hull of the fishing boat disappeared behind them almost before the prince secured his grip. Elandris beckoned them southward.
The first night, Alemar remained awake for hours, though bone weary from the swim. Bright moonlight filtered through the waters of the Dragon Sea, all the way to the bottom. Even here, in the deeper northern region, the sea floor seldom dipped lower than a few dozen fathoms. A ridge poked up to one side, supporting a coral reef that stretched almost to the surface. Dim shapes of fish and squid darted past. Spectral limbs of kelp rose all around them, shifting in the current; the men had tied themselves to them to avoid drifting apart.
It had been too long since Alemar had slept at sea. It was the gentlest bed he could imagine, but he preferred firm support beneath him and blankets above, not steady, even pressure on every side. He resisted the urge to tie himself in a horizontal position. Though his vest grew more or less buoyant as needed, keeping him at a consistent depth without the need to move his limbs, he still felt the urge to tread water. Nearby Toren and Geim shifted restlessly, even less accustomed to the arrangement than he.
The one thing that Alemar did not suffer from was the common fear of Elandri divers that somehow he was breathing water and would suffocate. On the contrary, he relished the air filtering through the membrane of the airmaker. It was sweeter than the salty, fish-perfumed atmosphere above the waves.
He reminisced about the Eastern Deserts, thinking of the nights when he would lay, bedroll pressed firmly against the sands, and ache for the touch of water around his body. At last he drifted into sleep, dreaming of cacti and scorched salt plains.
At noon on the third day, they found a tiny islet. Alemar called a halt to take advantage of the chance to eat a meal on solid ground. The dolphins-the fifth set to haul them-splashed off in search of their own dinner, cavorting in their characteristic way. Ebben and Match found a variety of shellfish clinging to the coral in the tidewaters and showed Geim and Toren how to harvest them. Meanwhile, Alemar assembled his watermaker and began transmuting salt water into fresh, in order to refill their flasks.
As they ate, Toren came over and examined Alemar's apparatus. He stroked its rubbery membrane, fascinated.
"Another legacy of the Dragonslayer," Alemar said. "Like the airmakers and the vests."
"But not a talisman," the modhiv said in admiration. He waved his hands over it. "It needs no conscious guidance for its magic to work."
"No. But try making one without high sorcery and you'll face quite a challenge."
"I think I shall make one," Toren murmured.
Alemar raised an eyebrow. Why not? Far better that Toren use his power for such things than to kill dragons all the time. There were perhaps two living magicians who could successfully manufacture the devices. The prince wondered what sort of life the Vanihr would have once the mission ended, assuming its success. He buried the thought. It was not the time to look so far ahead.
Toren stared down at the raw flesh of the small clam he had just broken open.
"Don't like it raw?" Alemar asked. "We usually marinate them."
Toren shrugged and slid the meat down in one gulp. "I can eat anything," he bragged. Nearby, Geim guffawed.
Gigantic dolphin sharks wandered near on the fifth day, delighted to find six of their favorite prey slowed down by passengers. Match and Ebben released capsules of effluvium. As soon as the great fish smelled the oily substance they vanished into the murk.
As the sea bottom rose, marking the borders of Elandris, Alemar worried less about such natural perils and more about human enemies. He consulted the map often, steering their course away from undersea cities. They replaced their steeds four times a day instead of two, to be sure those with them were always fresh. Their luck lasted until they passed between the last two cities still between them and their destination, through a narrow gap of only a few leagues.