Previous Chapter

It turned out they could all breathe water, presumably just one of the side effects of eating the sea dragon. That had its uses, the most obvious being salvation from sufication. It also made it possible for them to explore the flooded shaft for as long as it took to get back to the surface.

Marta was skeptical about abandoning their digging efforts but the air in the tunnel was already growing poor. The roof hadn’t caved in again but it was looking more and more unstable by the minute. Ultimately, Cassian made the decision to abandon the attempt to dig out and chose to swim, both because of the risk of a cave-in and because of the air situation.

Convincing the others to go along with this idea wasn’t easy. Even after they’d all climbed down the rope and stuck their heads under the water to confirm they could all breathe water as easily as air there was still resistance to the idea. Adalai wondered if the abilities they’d gained would wear off, leaving them with no way to breathe underwater. In many cases Cassian would have considered that a fine thing to worry about. However any Neronan familiar with dragon stories knew that it wasn’t possible to undo the changes brought about by eating a dragon so easily.

So they went down the mineshaft with Cassian in the lead. Along the way they discovered a number of new things about their condition. While they could all breathe the water the only one of them that could speak to the others while submerged was Verina which made keeping eveyone together difficult. Doubly so as Cassian was the only one that could actually see.

Clearly they had all had a different reaction to eating the dragon’s corpse. Doubtless Marta’s scales reflected some kind of change in her but whatever it was it wasn’t constant. In the time it took them to climb down into the water the scales on her skin had entirely disappeared. Adalai showed no obvious changes, which didn’t mean much given the circumstances.

Since he was the one who could see Cassian navigated with Adalai and Verina holding onto his shoulders. Marta took the rear, holding Verina’s free hand. That way Verina could tell Cassian if Marta got seperated from her and the extra weight of Cassian and Marta’s metal armor was distributed equally and would hopefully keep them from being swept away by a sudden current.

For the most part it worked. The group kept together and they managed to reach the first horizontal shaft without incident. However once they were there Cassian kept getting distracted by odd glimmers on the wall. He tried to point them out to Verina but he couldn’t explain them to her and she apparently couldn’t see them. That suggested there was more to his own changes than just seeing in the dark. He’d have to look into it more once they were on dry ground again.

In spite of their ability to breathe not everything about travelling under the water was easy. The shafts and tunnels had surprising currents and eddies in them. They were frequently forced to crawl on hands and knees in single file to make it through the narrowest parts of the tunnels. When struggling to ascend or descend a vertical shaft they frequently got seperated and Cassian found his stamina flagging after spending five minutes dragging himself up and down a particularly twisty vertical shaft, trying to pull the group back together after they were seperated working their way around a corner.

Behind it all was a constant, numbing cold. The mines had not seen the sun since long before Old Lum drowned them. The water within them was just as cold as the ocean without. If Verina had not known where a pocket of air was located thanks to the Linnorm’s scouting they might have given in to despair.
As it was it took them the better part of an hour to get down two mineshafts, cross two tunnels, climb up to their destination tunnel and emerge into the air again. At least the air pocket proved breathable. It wasn’t much progress but it was something.

They’d arrived at an intersection of two tunnels and whoever had built the mine had enlarged the area to create a staging ground. A few crates of half rotted supplies, piles of rusting tools and heaps of stones lay scattered about. One passage was collapsed and the other three were flooded. However there must have been a small passage out somewhere in the ceiling because they could feel a cold breeze washing over them the moment they scrambled out of the water.

It wasn’t much but after the night’s march, the frantic battle with the dragon and the grueling swim through pitch black tunnels they were all exhausted. Cassian picked through the debris, piled up the least rotted bits of rope, baskets and crates then doused them in lantern oil and lit it with his flint. After ensuring the smoke was venting through some crack in the ceiling they all flopped down beside the fire to dry out. Cassian wound up drifting to sleep as the warmth worked its way into his bones.

He woke up to the sound of a man dying. A deep, rasping cough echoed through the tunnels and, as he looked around through bleary eyes, Cassian realized it was coming from Adalai. The other man had withdrawn to the collapsed end of the tunnel and was in the process of trying to regurgitate a lung. Cassian dragged himself into a sitting position. Verina had collected a few more crates and was feeling them to the fire one board at a time. Their eyes met and he asked, “What’s wrong with him?”

She tsked. “He’s a man. Do you really think he would tell me? He has to pretend he’s tough even though we can all tell he’s teetering on the brink of Eternity.”

Cassian snorted. “Of course. If he despised you he would tell you all about his scratchy throat so that the feeling would be mutual. At least we know he holds you in high regard.” He spotted Marta lying at the edge of the firelight and gestured to her. “Has she woken up yet?”

“No.” Verina gave the Hexton woman a concerned look. “Her arm looks like it’s healed already but it’s taken a lot out of her.”

“It’s got to be better than making the entire trip here with a broken arm.” He dragged himself to his feet and shook himself out, trying to drive the last vestiges of cold and damp out of his feet and legs. After flapping his limbs around some to warm them he crossed over to where Adalai was hunkered down.

The Arminger didn’t look like he was dying. He wasn’t flushed or sweaty, he just sat staring at the fire with a glossy look in his eyes, a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. He didn’t seem to notice Cassian’s approach until the other man spoke. “Did you catch a chill in the water, Adalai?”

He jerked as if prodded with a dagger and his eyes slid over to study the Ironhand for a long moment. “Cassian?”

“Who else?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

Very cryptic but not at all helpful. “Are you sick, Adalai?”

His gaze wandered back to the fire. “No.”

Frustrated by the man’s obtuseness he plopped down next to him and said, “You don’t sound healthy, at any rate. Why are you sitting all the way over here? You’d do better to finish drying yourself out by the fire before we have to go back into the water later on.”

“Can’t.” Carpathia paused to lower his handkerchief and spit a wad of blood and phlegm onto the floor. “The smoke bothers me. I stayed as long as I could but I can’t. Not that close. Not in a place like this.”

Cassian frowned. That explaination did not really explain much. However it wasn’t really his place to pry into the lives and insecurities of the others. They were not really a company of bravos. They were just a handful of souls, joined together for the moment, trying to make it out of a bad situation. How one of them could be reduced to a coughing mess just by sleeping next to a campfire, a very common experience in Nerona, was not the most pressing concern. “Well, try to get some more sleep if you can. There’s not a lot left to burn and not much more left to eat. We’ll need to move on soon.”

Adalai nodded. “Has the Linnorm found a good place for us to head to next?”
“I haven’t asked yet. That is the next thing I need to look in to.”

As it turned out, the spirit had actually found two likely locations to head towards. Continuing in the direction they had been travelling would take them down below the water again but it was a fairly straight path. The Linnorm reported that, at the furthest reaches of its range the tunnel turned upwards again and may eventually return above ground. The surface was apparently only ten to fifteen feet overhead.

On the other hand, if they turned and headed to the left they would find a shaft leading down to a tunnel that exited into the Gulf only a short distance away.

“The Gulf will have more tides and currents than we’ve faced so far,” Adalai said. “It will be a lot easier to get separated out there.”

“But we know it will get us out of the mines,” Marta said. “Even if the other tunnel goes up there’s no telling if it will take us all the way out to the surface. Even five feet of dirt is a lot to dig through safely. We’re three times that deep now and we don’t even have tools.”

Verina nodded. “More than that, we’re here to try and find the caravan and Cassian’s brother. If the dragon took them then it would have stashed them with the rest of its treasures.” She pointed out towards the Gulf. “It’s lair is doubtless out there somewhere. The creature was far to large to fit down here.”

“What if it had its Benthic thralls hide its treasure down here?” Adalai asked.

“Dragons wouldn’t risk losing their treasure just because its servants die,” Cassian said. “It would keep them in a protected place, sure, but one it could get to on its own.”

Marla sighed. “I was hoping we’d be done with the water soon.”

“Aren’t your people great seafarers?” Verina asked.

“The Hextons? Yes. Clan Towers? We prefer the land.”

The journey out to the Gulf wasn’t as time consuming as the previous leg of the trip. Cassian estimated it was half are hour, no more. When they emerged into open water the others were excited to find that even they had enough light to see by. However that was the end of the good news.

Not all the light they found there came from the sun filtering through the waves. A great deal of it came from a ring of sea anemones that grew around the tunnel exit and glowed with a soft blue light from deep within. Each plant was the size of a large dog and they were grouped unnaturally close together. It was impossible to pass through them without brushing against one of their stinging fronds.

But keeping them contained was very much the purpose of the anemones. That and illuminating them for the six armed Benthic that swept down from above, brandishing spears.

Previous Chapter

Cassian pulled himself upright, head swimming, and looked around. He was sitting in a mound of rubble. Dirt and stones slid off of him in small avalanches. The dust of the cave-in still hung in the air, obscuring the world around him. Something sticky clung to his hands.He looked down to see them covered in dark, blue gray blood. So thick and clinging was the substance that he could not see his own natural skin tone through it. He shoved himself to his feet, his mind already trying to assess the situation and figure out what needed to be done. The first step after any accident in the smithy was to check on everyone in the area.

He’d caused the cave-in deliberately but otherwise the basic idea was sound. So he licked his lips, spat out the grit and said, “Adalai? Verina, Marta can you hear me?”

No answer came and, after waiting for nearly a minute, Cassian started to pace around the cramped area still free of rubble. It was about fifteen feet from cave-in to cave-in. Not a lot of space for three people to disappear in yet there was no sign of them, just a wedge shaped puddle of the same goo he was covered in. He pivoted to look back at the spot he’d woken up. He’d been the closest to the collapse so in theory he should have been the only one under the rubble. Theory didn’t go for a whole lot at the moment.He started digging through the rubble. “Marta?” Moving the rubble proved much easier than he was expecting. “Adalai? Verina?”

He’d just reached out to move a rock the size of his head, the biggest piece he’d come across so far, when the rubble on the far left side of the corridor erupted and Verina got shakily to her feet, pulling Adalai along behind her.

“Finally!” Cassian kept digging but spared one eye to study the two of them. “Is he okay? How did you get stuck under there, I thought you were further back.”

The yaga shook her head to clear it then looked around aimlessly. “Cassian? Is that you?”

“Of course it’s me, who else would it be?” A soft gleam caught his eye a few steps ahead and he moved forward to dig it out.”Where are you ?”

“What are you, blind? I’m right here.” It wasn’t the right moment to lose his temper but he was starting to get close.

“Of course I’m blind, Cassian, if you have the time to complain about it you might try lighting the lantern instead.”

Cassian realized he hadn’t seen the lantern during his brief look around the corridor earlier. “It’s around here somewhere. I can see just fine.”

He uncovered Marta’s shoulder and carefully dragged her out of the rubble, taking care not to jostle her shield arm too much. Once she was free he discovered two surprising things. First, her arm no longer looked broken. Second, her shield seemed to glow with a strange, silvery light. He wondered if she had strained her Gift in some way there at the end and this was some indication of it.

“What are you talking about?” Verina demanded. “I can’t see anything here. The lantern must have gone out when the roof collapsed.”

Cassian turned Marta face up and discovered, to his shock, that her skin had taken on a scaled pattern much like that of the Benthic. He looked around frantically, a cold feeling settling in his stomach.

“Zalt,” he whispered. “We ate the dragon.”

A long moment passed before Verina whispered back. “What?”

“I can see in the dark, the dragon’s corpse isn’t here and I don’t know how we all wound up buried in rubble unless we were eating it and wound up eating our way under the rubble.”

“We ate it?” Verina sounded faint.

“That’s what happens when a dragon dies. Haven’t you heard any of the stories? It’s hunger has to go somewhere and when people kill the dragon it’s almost always moves into the killers. Then they eat it.”

Verina made a soft gagging sound. For a moment Cassian was worried she was trying to force herself to vomit up what she’d eaten, which clearly wasn’t going to work. Even if they hadn’t eaten the dragon’s whole body, just the head and neck that had been in reach on this side of the collapsed tunnel, it was still a volume of meat greater than the largest cow he’d ever laid eyes on. To say nothing of the creature’s bones. Yet their stomachs showed no signs of gorging on such a huge quantity of food. It seemed the dragon’s hunger did more than drive them to eat. It also helped them absorb what they took in. Hopefully the supernatural powers of consumption and digestion wouldn’t last forever, or the provisions they’d brought along were not going to last.

Verina was still distraught. Her eyes were tracking something not even Cassian’s dragon enhanced vision could see and her lips moved without producing sound. He hoped she was just speaking to the Great Linnorm. He decided to give her a moment.

Taking a rope he tied a rag to one end, lowered it into the flooded mineshaft and let it absorb some water. Then he took the rag and used it to sponge some of the dirt off of Marta and Adalai’s faces. As he’d hoped that got them coming back to wakefulness. He also located the lantern and took possession of it, quickly draining the oil into a flask and tucking them both away into his bag.

As he finished Adalai sat up, rubbing his head, saying, “What happened? Did we get the dragon?”

“That’s one way to put it.” Cassian gently helped Marta up and brought her over to sit with the rest of them.

“It’s dark,” she muttered. “Let me find the lantern.”

“No lantern,” Cassian said. “We’re currently trapped in a very small space with no connection to the outside air. What air we do have is going to turn bad soon and lighting a lantern won’t help. The way I see it we have three ways to get out of here and we need to decide which one we are going to try very quickly.”

“Three ways?” Adalai sounded surprised at that assessment. “We can try and dig our way out the way we came or we can try to dig past the old cave-in. What’s the third way?”

“We can swim,” Verina said. Clearly finished with whatever communing she had been doing, the yaga’s attention was now on the matter at hand. “The Linnorm has gone to see if the flooded shaft connects aboveground anywhere. Or at least leads back to a shaft above the waterline.”

“There’s no way of knowing whether we can breath the air on the other side of the sunken mines, if there is any,” Adalai pointed out.

“That’s true of digging out the old cave-in as well,” Marta replied.

“And the fresh cave-in is the most likely to collapse if we disturb it,” Cassian concluded. “None of these are particularly good options. Honestly, I’d like it if we didn’t have to do any of these things but if we stay still then we are doomed and I’m not prepared to face Eternity just yet. So we have to choose one.”

“One?” Adalai cocked his head in contemplation. “Why not two? That way we don’t lose time if one of them doesn’t work.”

“We don’t have enough room to dig both ways at once,” Verina pointed out. “We’d just wind up with a new wall of rubble between us and that would make things difficult if we find a way out and need to join up again.”

“We could throw anything we move down the flooded mineshaft,” Marta suggested.

“Sure,” Adalai said, “but I was thinking one of us could swim the flooded shaft and the rest could dig towards the entrance.”

“Let’s hold off on swimming until we know what the Linnorm finds,” Cassian said. “How far from you can he go, Verina?”

“It depends on a number of things but right now, about a hundred and fifty feet. He should return soon.”

So they took a few minutes to dig towards the entrance, struggling against waves of loose dirt and stone that trickled from the ceiling. Cassian had just called a halt after a secondary collapse brought tons of falling debris down on them, undoing almost all the progress they’d made when Verina reported the Linnorm was back.The spirit reported that it hadn’t seen any new exit from the mines via the submerged tunnels. It did discover a large network of tunnels leading in all directions. There were even a few places where the Linnorm said there was no water although Marta was quick to point out again that that didn’t mean breathable air. Cassian still felt it was worth taking the time to explore. It did lead to another question, though.

“I should go,” Verina insisted. “If I move around then the Linnorm will be able to scout further. It will also be easier to pull me up out of the mineshaft if I don’t find anything. I weigh much less than you.”

“I can see,” Cassian said. “That’s going to be much more important to getting around safely down there than anything else.”

“You can see?” Adalai asked. “Since when?”

“Since eating the dragon.” He’d explained what he thought happened to the others while they were digging but hadn’t gotten around to mentioning the changes he saw as a result.

“Eating a dragon makes you see in the dark?” Adalai shook his head in bewilderment. “That’s amazing. I know they’re incredibly dangerous and all but why don’t I hear about people hunting down and eating these things on a regular basis?”

“Because the power held in dragon flesh is intended to pass down to their hatchlings,” Verina said. “When it winds up in the hands of others the dragons that should have inherited it chase them down, kill them and devour them to get it back.”

“That’s pretty bad,” Adalai agreed.

‘”Worse, no one wants the people who have eaten dragons around,” Cassian said as he passed a rope around his waist. “Too much collateral damage results.”

“That’s understandable.” Adalai braced himself and started lowering Cassian down into the mineshaft.To his surprise, once he reached the water he found it to be surprisingly warm. Given that the waters of the Gulf tended towards the chilly side of things at that time of the year Cassian found that rather surprising. It was not the only surprise in store for him.He also found that his enhanced eyesight could easily see through the surface of the water and down to the bottom of the mineshaft, which he estimated was at least a hundred feet below. He spotted at least three side tunnels branching off in various directions. “Okay, Adalai, there’s a rock here I’m going to tie the rope to so it doesn’t get lost. Go ahead and anchor your end somewhere. I’ll call for you if I need pulled back up.”

“Got it. We’ll keep digging, then. If we find a way out then I’ll light the lantern. Stay here if you see it and I’ll check in every so often until you come back.”

It was as good a plan as anything. Once he had everything in place Cassian dove under the water, intending to dive down to the first tunnel and look down it before surfacing for air. However he hadn’t descended more than half the distance to the tunnel in question before he subconsciously took a breath, sucking water into his lungs. Then he scrambled upwards through the water, using his Gift to add bouyancy to his armor. Once he broke the surface he called out, “Adalai, Adalai! I can breathe the water!”

Previous Chapter

The sea dragon and the Great Linnorm locked eyes and roared, their combined voices shaking the air and, for just a moment, overwhelming the the sound of the storm. The horde of Benthic clambered out of the surf and charged towards them across the beach. Cassian studied the forces arrayed against them and shouted, “Fall back! Don’t let them surround us!”

“Where are we going?” Marta yelled back, straining to be heard over the cacophony.

“Inland,” Cassian replied, dashing around the side of the dunes toward the center of the island. “Hopefully that dragon can’t follow us.”

“Don’t bet on it,” Verina said, struggling to keep pace with him. “Just because the dragon swims doesn’t mean it can’t fly.”

Behind them the sea dragon’s body tensed and rippled, swelling with terrible potential until it unleashed a massive torrent of rushing water on the Linnorm. The two headed spirit exhaled twin streams of pale green fire in response. The three blasts collided with an ear splitting shriek and an explosion of steam that hid the ocean from view. Steam did little to stop the sheer mass of the sea dragon’s attack. The rush of water swept past the twin dragon’s fire and slammed into the spirit’s flank, creating a second burst of steam and sending it rolling across the beach for a split second before the Linnorm vanished and Verina pitched face first into the sand.

“Zalt,” Cassian hissed, sliding to a stop then scrambling back to drag the yaga upright. Her eyes rolled in her skull like dice in a gambler’s cup and all her limbs hung limp so the Ironhand wrapped her arm around his neck, grabbed her waist then started to drag. Two or three steps later Marta caught up and took Verina’s other side.

Yet even with two of them to manage the Slav’s dead weight they were losing ground. The Benthic weren’t made for moving quickly over land but even they were able to close the gap and by the time Cassian and the others rounded the nearest dune the sea dwellers had closed to within two hundred feet. Adalai had waited for them to catch up and kept pace next to Marta as they withdrew. “What happened?”

“Linnorm. Overwhelmed.” Verina was starting to come around, though her feet still dragged limply behind her.

“I didn’t think Invokers worked that way.” Adalai clicked his tongue and pivoted to walk backwards while he watched the Benthic’s steady approach. “This must be another side effect of the yaga being bound to their spirit.”

“Just need a few seconds,” Verina panted. “Then I can walk. The Great One needs longer before he can show himself again.”

“Fantastic,” Cassian said. “The Linnorm was the only thing we had in a sea dragon’s weight class.”

There was a soft thud and a long, thin spear sprouted from the sand to their left. “They’ve got javelins,” Adalai reported. “Marta, switch out with me, we’re going to need your shield in pretty short order.”

“No, I can stand,” Verina said. She visibly gathered herself and got her feet under her. She swayed for a moment as the other two withdrew their support but remained upright.

Marta immediately turned around and began walking backwards as well. Adalai rummaged in his bag for a moment then held out the daggers he’d taken from the bandits the day before. “You’re our best long range worker, Cassian. You’ll need all the ammunition you can get.”

Cassian took the three knives and stuck them into his belt then tugged his left glove off and tucked it in there as well. With his other hand he directed his own sword forward to slash at the approaching Benthic. The weapon darted in and out of the approaching crowd, menacing them enough that their advance was slowed and occasionally scattering dark red blood on the sand. The Benthic weren’t wearing anything like armor but their scales were tough and they were quick to block most attacks with their sharp coral or bone spears. But every now and then he got lucky.

Adalai shot him a sideways look as they rounded another dune and put it between themselves and the Benthic. “You plan to Ironhand those things any time soon?”

“It’s not that simple,” Cassian said, taking one of the daggers in his left hand. “I don’t know this metal yet. I made the weapons and armor I brought with me so I already had a grasp of it but these things are new to me. It’s going to take a minute or two.”

“What happened to the knives you brought with you?” Verina asked.

“I didn’t get a chance to call them back before the sea dragon showed up,” Cassian said, splitting his attention between learning the dagger in his hand, controlling the sword harrying the Benthic and carrying the conversation. “They’re well out of my reach now.”

As if to drive that point home the sea dragon threw it’s coiling bulk up onto the side of the dune, sending an avalanch of sand rushing down towards them as the dragon’s belly churned the grains about, seeking purchase. They had yet to see more than it’s head and a half dozen feet of its body at any one time but, from the way its entire mass seemed to flex and sway with its movement, Cassian guessed it was one of those dragons that had no legs, just a worm like body. The pearl in its forehead flickered with a sinister internal light. In response the Benthic abandoned all efforts at defending themselves from Cassian’s darting sword, dropped to the sand and scrambled forward on all fours.

Or rather, all threes. Their new posture made it apparent that one reason they hadn’t overtaken Cassian and his party was how truly ill suited they were to moving about on land. Their bodies seemed to end in a long, tapering, eel-like appendage twice or perhaps three times as long as the legs of a comparably sized man. The tail alone clearly didn’t allow them to move very fast. However, with the added propulsion of their upper bodies they began to close the distance at an alarming rate.

Cassian felt a pang of regret. From the clear self destructive behavior and the glow from the pearls in their foreheads it was obvious the Benthic were not acting of their own accord. However he didn’t see much he could do about that. So he did his best to set them free painlessly, driving his sword’s point down through their backs quickly and ruthlessly as soon as they came within the distance his Gift could operate in. Very quickly the bodies of three, then four of the pitiable creatures lay twitching and dying on the sand, their arms and tails no longer possessing the strength to move them.

It wasn’t enough. The sea dragon seemed to have two or three dozen Benthic in its thrall and they were all pouring over the dunes towards the human quartet. They clawed their way across the sand with a manic intensity. When Cassian’s sword flew through the air over their heads they snatched at it with their bare hands, heedless of the danger. One lost a finger and others suffered deep cuts. Yet it was clear to Cassian that they were going to get ahold of it sooner or later and he didn’t want to lose the only weapon left he could use well with his Gift.

So he called the sword back to his hand. He weighed the new dagger in his off hand, feeling it’s strong buzz in the back of his head, and estimated how much control he could exert over it. Certainly not enough for anything delicate. He’d just have to settle for throwing the weapon and calling it back to his hand.

By the time they were off the dunes and climbing inland Cassian had managed to kill another Benthic and injured two more. As he started scrambling over scrub grass the Benthic were nearly in range to strike with the short spears they carried. Cassian was drawing back his arm for another throw when Manta yelled, “Hold!”

At first he wasn’t sure what she had in mind, since the Benthic had stopped throwing things at them when they got down to one spear apiece. The Hexton maid had continued to pace him in spite of that. Now she stepped forward, her shield glowing brighter than he had ever seen it, and thrust it forward until it almost touched the closest Benthic. A barrier in the shape of a half dome appeared, bright as the sun in the storming dark, and swept forward, throwing the creatures back in disarray.

Up until that point the sea dragon had watched its servants’ struggles with dispassion, doing little more than slither from dune to dune to keep them in sight. When Marta’s barrier swept over the Benthic it raised up again, the pearl in its head pulsing faster. As the barrier faded the dragon’s jaw gaped open and its throat swelled like a frog’s before spewing another enormous stream of water that smashed the remains of Manta’s glowing shield and cast her back several steps.

Cassian dropped his weapons and caught her, bracing himself against the torrent of water and doing his best to keep her from being swept away. The surge did catch his sword and dagger and he only had the focus and control to snag his sword out of the wave before it was swept away. Then the real danger of the dragon’s plan showed itself. They were going uphill and water naturally wanted to move downhill so, as the force the dragon had put behind it died away the wave turned around and swept past them again, this time full of rocks and driftwood that battered them as they swept past. A large piece of flotsam caught Cassian in the side and he would have been swept away if Adalai hadn’t grabbed his belt.

A loud croaking sound rose up over the din of combat and surussus of rain. Panicked, Cassian looked around for the source only to realize it was coming from the sea dragon. The creature had risen up like a snake about to strike and was booming out the wet, belching sound like a general barking out orders. Except the dragon ordered its thralls with the pearls in their foreheads. It didn’t need to make noise to communicate with them. It was just laughing.

The dragon was watching them struggle for its own amusement.

Two of its Benthic servants were gathering the receding wave up using their watery arts, massing it into one place. Whether their plan was to attack with it themselves or just return it to the dragon Cassian couldn’t begin to guess but whichever it was it spelled disaster for them. “Run,” he gasped, suiting actions to words. “Just get as far inland as you can, we’ll try to find some place their powers are less effective.”

In truth he suspected they’d gone as far as there was to go. Dragons often attacked caravans for the treasures they carried and, if this one had enslaved some Benthic to help it scout for desperate souls using the Drownway, that would explain what had happened to Cazador and his group. They’d been taken by the dragon to feed its appetite for treasure and food.

“There’s an old building on the south side of the summit,” Adalai panted as they sprinted uphill, pulling the still groggy Verina along as she began to lag. “I spotted it on our way here. It’s fairly large and sturdy looking. It might not stand up to multiple hits from the dragon but it will slow down the Benthic.”

“Lead the way.”

It was a harrowing three minutes getting up to the island’s summit and around to the building Adalai had described. There was a slight reprieve. Cassian suspected that, just like he could only use his Gift on metal within a certain distance, the dragon could only control the Benthic if they stayed close to it. He wasn’t sure why the serpent didn’t follow them immediately. Perhaps it was summoning more Benthic from the deep. Perhaps it was refilling some internal reservoir of water by returning to the ocean or drinking the liquid the Benthic had gathered. Perhaps it just liked watching them run.

Regardless, the dragon and its servants didn’t molest them along the way. It was almost more nervewracking to make the trip in safety than it was to be harried the entire way. Still, they arrived safely at the rundown ruins of a huge, simplistic rectangular building half buried in sand and scrub brush. Without hesitation they darted into the cavernous entrance to prepare for the next assault. It was only as Adalai sat Verina on a low sand pile and Marta fumbled to light a lantern that Cassian realized how bad an idea coming there really was.

Previous Chapter

The massive, two headed form of the Great Linnorm heaved itself out of the sea and straddled the Drownway, water running down its sides in sheets. Within the pale, shimmering green spirit was a slim, feminine form. Cassian groaned. Clearly Verina Highplains hadn’t taken no for an answer.

“Calm down,” he said to the others, “I don’t think that one’s out to get us. Well, maybe me after what I said yesterday but she’ll probably give you two a pass.”

“She?” Adalai’s question had a decidedly pointed tone.

“Yes, she.” Cassian gently pulled Marta back, motioning for Adalai to lower his weapons with his other hand.

The Great Linnorm surged forward, a pair of leathery bat-like wings unfurling from its back, and it lept over the waves to land in front of Cassian with a titanic splash. Unlike Verina, who was protected by the body of the spirit she had Invoked, Cassian wound up drenched by the spray. Almost as soon as it appeared the body of the Linnorm vanished and left Verina on the shore, a massive serpentine gap in the water behind her slamming closed with a crash of rushing water.

“Signorina Verina,” Cassian said with a polite bow. “It’s a pleasure to see you again so soon.”

“Is it?” She directed a skeptical look in Marta’s direction. “Perhaps it is. Your opinion on things has changed a great deal over the past night.”

“Others have made a compelling case for a different approach,” Cassian replied. “I admit I am a little surprised to see you here today, although given the way things have been going so far perhaps I should have been expecting it.”

Verina’s mood markedly changed when her gaze stopped on Adalai. She stood motionless and a little wide eyed for a moment when their eyes met then she took hold of her skirts, curtsied, and said, “Greetings, stranger. My name is Verina Highplains, a daughter of the People of the Steppes, a yaga of the Lost Slavs.”

It was evident from his expression that Adalai didn’t understand what she had said. Whether that was because Verina’s accent combined with Adalai’s poor grasp of Neronan kept him from comprehension or the man just didn’t know what the terms meant Cassian couldn’t tell.

At least he wasn’t rude about it. He bowed saying, “My name is Adalai Carpathea, a bravo from far away.”

“Far away?” She leaned forward to peer at him, her expression unreadable. “How far? I do not recognize the sound of your speech.”

“I’d rather not say.” Adalai turned and gestured to Marta. “The Lady Towers is of Hexton lands and serves at the pleasure of their king.”

Verina inclined her head towards the other woman but didn’t acknowledge her otherwise. Instead she looked over to Cassian and said, “What made the difference? Has your luck taken a turn?”

“That’s one way to look at it,” he grumbled. “Perhaps I never had any to begin with. Before you ask, yes, if the Linnorm still insists on partaking in this disaster in the making I suppose you can come along. Provided your brother has given his permission. The last thing I need to happen is for the whole of the Highplains cavalry to follow us out onto the Drownway. Especially when they’re under levy.”

A blinding smile transformed Verina’s face, changing her dour Slavic features into a beacon of delight. “Many thanks, Signore Cassian. My brother and I are once again in your debt.”

“You and your Linnorm, too. I just want you to understand that you’re to be very careful how you Invoke that thing.” Cassian gestured out at the land bridge gradually poking its way out of the waves. “That’s not the place to carelessly flail about with a spirit of that size, understand?”

“It’s the privilege of the Linnorm to act as it needs and the duty of the yaga to assist it as we can.”

“If it can’t see a way to act that doesn’t throw us into the ocean then it stays here, understand?” Cassian didn’t wait for an answer. The tide was moving out and, barring the Linnorm flailing about, the waves were pretty calm. It was best to get a head start. As he’d said to Marta, they only had a few hours of low tide to travel in.

Cassian picked his way across a rocky outcrop towards the submerged portion of the Drownway, the slick stone sending the soles of his boots slipping and squeaking as if the ground itself was conspiring against him. “Did you bring provisions suited to the situation?”

“Certainly,” Verina assured him. “The Highplains are no strangers to long campaigns. I have brought jerky and hardtack sufficient for two weeks along with a mercurial glass to judge the weather, though I see that you have one of your own.”

Cassian nodded his grudging approval. “It never hurts to have a spare of any tool made of glass.”

“Then she will be coming with us?” Marta asked.

“She will,” Cassian confirmed.

“Can the spirit just carry us over the water?” Adalai was studying Verina with a keen eye and she returned his scrutiny with equal intensity.

“I’m afraid not.” She held up one hand to display the faintly glowing tattoo there. “Without the marks of a yaga a person cannot safely touch the body of the Great Linnorm, or any other ancestral spirit of the Slavic lands.”

Marta eyed the woman suspiciously. “For the best, I think. Two of us are seeking to discover the fates of family or friends who have traveled this path. If we were wrapped in the coils of such a large spirit we might overlook signs they have left behind.”

“That reminds me,” Cassian said, crouching down by the water, “do you have any idea where the Baron you are looking for went missing?”

“None, sir.”

“How about you?” Adalai asked. “You had that wheel axel, do you know where that came from?”

“A courier crossing in the other direction discovered it and marked the location with a flag.” Cassian sent his tin mirror out over the waves again as he spoke. “He planted it only a few days ago so there is a good chance the flag is still in place now.”

“Then we should make all haste,” Marta replied, poking at barely submerged stone with the toe of her boot.

“Wait,” Cassian said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back. “There’s sharks in the water out there, see the fins?”

She squinted and stared out at the waves. “Surely the water is too shallow for them to reach us.”

“The animals know the patterns of nature far better than we do,” Verina said. “If they are lurking around here then there is a chance that they could eat. Respect that.”

Marta sighed and stepped back until she was again standing on solid ground. “If you insist.”

“Water in your boots is just as bad,” Adalai said. “Don’t underestimate how nasty a case of trench foot can be if you never get your feet dry again.”

“You think of such lovely things,” Marta said dryly.

“I do try, especially at moments like this.”

In a mere five minutes the water receded enough that they were able to start hopping across the dryish portions of the path, keeping their balance as best they could. In truth Cassian understood Marta’s sense of urgency. Every moment they lost was another chance for Cazador to lose his life. However every craftsman knew the fastest way to work was slow enough to avoid mishaps and, from the stories he’d heard from customers, it was much the same for bravos. So he did his best to keep the group’s progress as steady and deliberate as possible.

Unfortunately things did not go as smoothly as he might wish. It was little things at first. Verina hadn’t seen a map of the Drownway, nor did she know the route, so the small island she’d waited on wasn’t on the path. That wouldn’t have caused a delay except she’d left her pack and provisions there and they’d been forced to go out of their way to retrieve it. Only a five minute delay but Cassian bristled at it none the less.

Then, as the tides began to roll back in, Cassian called a halt at the beginning of a high, narrow ridge that crossed the gap between two larger land masses. At one point a previous expedition had strung a rope as a handhold between two posts driven into the rocks but, from the frayed end of the bits that remained, Cassian concluded that something had caused it to break. The ridge was narrow and uneven. That wouldn’t have been a problem if there hadn’t also been a strong westerly wind blowing.

By all accounts danger was part of the bravo’s calling. Foolhardiness was not. So they hunkered down on the side of the ridge for nearly half an hour until the wind died down. Then Cassian carefully picked his way across the expanse, using his Gift to grab ahold of his armor and push himself more firmly towards the ground. He made the trip with a coil of rope around his waist. Once it was firmly tied to the post on the far side the rest of the group made the trip with no issue.

Unfortunately the prolonged pause left them far enough behind schedule that the tides had turned. They had just enough time to scramble through a final low point in the path before the waves closed over it. The small island that left them on was the first of its kind they’d seen.

Marta stared around at the old, crumbling buildings that dotted the low hill and said, “I thought this place was cut off from the mainland most of the day. How did someone get all this stone out here? Did they carry it over that ridge?”

“There’s other routes through the Drownway,” Cassian replied. “They’re used by caravans like the one we’re looking for but the path is a good five miles longer. This is the fastest route through the Drownway and the one your Baron probably took if he was trying to move quickly. It merges with the caravan route later on. Since I have an idea of where Cazador’s group went missing I plan to head there first and spiral out from that location rather than retrace the caravan route and lose a day to the tides.”

“That doesn’t explain how they got the stone out here,” Verina said.

“They got it from right here.” Cassian gestured to the Gulf. “There was a time before Lum drowned half of Nerona, when these lands were joyful and prosperous rather than hidden by waves. This was probably a fishing village once. There is wreckage from Nerona’s lost cities washed up along the path as well. These buildings are still on their foundations so I presume this is where they were built.”

Adalai had climbed up the remains of a nearby wall, which had crumbled into a stair step shape. Now he suddenly jumped down. “There’s smoke rising from the far side of the island.”

Cassian frowned. “Well, it’s not a bad place to hunker down til low tide. The ruins give some shelter after all.”

“How common is it for people to travel this way?” Marta asked.

“Not that rare,” Cassian said. “But hardly commonplace either.”

“Should we go have a look?” Adalai asked.

“Let’s.”

The island wasn’t very large. If they’d been moving at a full march, aiming to make another crossing before the tides came back in, they could have made it across in eight to ten minutes. Cassian chose to move much slower, using his reflective tin to help them carefully scout the way, checking behind each wall and inside each ruin they passed. As a consequence it took then almost half an hour to get from one side of the island to the other.

Once there Cassian carefully slid his tin around a wall to get a glimpse of the source of the smoke. Tin didn’t make for the best mirror in the world but it showed enough that Cassian could make out three men crouched around a campfire with crankbows leaned against nearby rocks. That, in and of itself, was not unusual. Only fools would travel Nerona’s wilds unarmed.

However one of the men suddenly sat up, quietly motioned to his companions and pointed towards the piece of tin. He must have seen the sun reflecting off of it. Whatever clued him in, his reaction didn’t bode well. He and his friends immediately reached for their weapons, worked the levers and slipped bolts into place.

“Bandits,” Cassian hissed. “Make ready for battle.”