The rippling against the hull had become louder. Kardan stared at the dark water. Something dark was swimming just below the surface, something like a very large fish.
It was behind Hadros as he sat leaning against the rail, and he did not seem to hear it. “I did the queen a favor once, over twenty years ago,” he continued.
But Kardan was no longer listening. As he watched, the fish broke the surface right next to the ship. But it was not a fish. It was a woman.
As Kardan watched in astonishment, a head of curly black hair emerged from the waves. Eyes bright as mirrors, she reached for the railing and pulled herself up. The water streamed from her naked body.
Hadros heard her then and turned his head abruptly. Kardan could see now that it was not a woman after all. From her waist down she was not human but fish, scales glittering as bright in the evening light as her eyes.
Hadros started to speak, but the siren did not give him a chance. She flashed Kardan a grin that showed a line of sharp little white teeth, then threw her arms around Hadros’s neck from behind. He gave a startled cry, half-choking, as he tried to jump to his feet.
She bent his head slowly backwards while his hand grasped for the sword he had unbuckled and laid at his feet. But it was too late. As his fingers found his knife instead, the siren gave a hard jerk. Hadros’s back slammed against the rail, and his kicking legs rose into the air. The knife flew from his hand, but it reached the waves only a second before he did. With a splash, the siren and the king were gone.
Kardan leaped up, kicking off his boots and tossing away his cloak. The sailors had realized at last that something was happening, but he was closest. His sword in his hand, he took a deep breath and sprang over the railing, going fast before he could change his mind.
The water was even colder than he expected. He almost gasped with the shock but managed to keep his mouth closed. He clung desperately to his sword, kicking his way downwards after a thin stream of bubbles. Tiny startled fish swam before him.
The salt stung his eyes as he swam, his clothes dragging at him. But he could see the siren now on the rocky bottom, her long sinuous tail wrapped around Hadros’s motionless form. She grinned again and held up a hand as though to warn him off.
Kardan thrust at her with his sword, the motion seeming unbearably slow and reaching nowhere near her. But the siren frowned and loosened her tail from around Hadros. His body slumped, the head tilted sideways.
Kardan thrust again, the sword still not reaching its goal. Bubbles escaped from his lips, rising past his eyes, and his chest felt tighter and tighter as the impulse to take a breath grew almost unbearable. The siren darted backwards with a wiggle of her tail.
He kicked forward, but she stayed just out of reach of his sword. The air in his lungs was nearly gone. But he was now within a few feet of Hadros. Air still dribbled from the king’s mouth, but his eyes were closed.
Kardan waved his sword at the siren a final time, grabbed the other king by the collar, and planted his feet on the stony bottom. The sharp stones bit with a pain that broke even through the cold-induced numbness.
But he kicked off with all his strength, tugging Hadros upwards. The surface before his straining eyes was a wavering green ceiling, seeming impossibly far. With his sword still in one hand and the other wrapped around Hadros’s collar, he could not use his arms to swim. Inert and waterlogged, the king could have weighed a thousand pounds.
He gave a great gasp as his head broke through the surface at last, the air on salty lips tasting sweeter than he had ever known it. The sailors reached over the railing, grabbing both kings. They were heaved back into the ship, the water pouring from them, as the shore party emerged from the trees.
Hadros flopped motionless on the deck. Kardan bent over him, pushing rhythmically and desperately on the shoulder blades, willing him still to be alive.
About two gallons of salt water came up all at once and ran across the deck. Kardan pushed again, and another gallon followed. Hadros gave a grunt and lifted his head.
The sailors bent to help him turn over and sit up. Kardan stepped back, shivering uncontrollably as a sailor handed him a dry cloak. Gizor and his party seemed to realize something had happened, for he shouted at the warriors as they scrambled into the skiff. Their voices seemed very distant, and Kardan’s attention all focused on the black-bearded figure before him.
Hadros passed a hand unsteadily across his face, wiping away the wet. Kardan, watching him, found himself wondering why he had saved his life. This would have been the perfect opportunity to get revenge for ten years of humiliation. He would not even have had to do anything himself to harm him-all he had to do was come back to the surface alone.
But he had certainly saved him. He knelt beside Hadros again, helping the sailors strip off the king’s dripping clothing. “Are you all right?” he heard himself asking concernedly.
Hadros wavered a little but managed a smile as he tried to squeeze some of the water from his beard. “While you’re at it, Kardan,” he said with almost a chuckle, “I expect my knife is at the bottom of the cove. Would you mind going back for it?”
Then he passed out.
King Hadros insisted on continuing north the next day, waving away Kardan’s concern irritably, though he sat rather than stood by the rail and kept massaging his knee. He stationed three warriors with harpoons before the mast, close above the white water foaming around the throat of the dragon prow, watching for sirens and for other creatures from deep under the sea.
“Is it always so, well, exciting to go on a war expedition?” Queen Arane asked with an ironic expression. “My kingdom has been free of wars since my father’s time, and this is my first experience of such a thing.”
“This isn’t a war expedition,” said Hadros with a wolfish smile. “This is just a little trip.”
Kardan also watched for sea creatures, but his attention was caught instead by a flock of geese, very high up, flying south fast. “That may be a portent of trouble before us,” he commented. “Geese should not be flying for another two months or more.”
“There have been strange rumors from the north all this year,” replied Hadros. “Yet I still had not thought to see a siren so far south.” But as they rowed onward against a steady wind, they saw no more creatures of voima. “The wind shouldn’t be blowing from the north like this in the middle of summer,” he muttered. “Does Roric have powers he’s never told me about?”
“All of us have powers within us,” said Queen Arane pleasantly, seating herself beside him. “The difficulty is to recognize and use them.”
“Strength of mind, strength of arm-that’s one thing, Arane,” said the king slowly. “But there is something going on in this world that I don’t like. Kardan’s Mirror-seer is gone, and, though I didn’t tell you this before, so is the Weaver. He’d been right there in his cave-or her cave, some would say-since I was a boy, and the stories say many generations longer than that, but when I went up to ask him where Roric had gone, it was as empty as though no one had ever lived there.”
Kardan lifted his head sharply from watching the waves. If wild creatures of voima were growing bolder and stalking this world, and if those who interpreted the powers of voima to mortals were retreating, then they might find not just danger ahead but the lords of voima themselves. He had already this trip seen a number of things he would not before have believed.
When they pulled into a cove that evening, Hadros said grimly, “Tonight I spend on land.”