Sea of Death: Blade of the Flame - Book 3 (49 page)

Yvka smiled. “I do indeed, my friend. I not only understand your decision, I applaud it.”

“Besides, Solus is going with us,” Hinto said. “I’m going to teach him to be a sailor.”

“I find the open sea calming,” Solus said. “The thoughts of its
denizens are simple and unclouded by negative emotions like deceit and greed.”

“You’ve never run into any pirates,” Tresslar muttered.

“I fully understand what Solus means,” Leontis said, looking toward the eastern horizon. “The world below the waves is a very different place from the world of land, air, and sun. It has its own rhythms of life, rules of existence, and codes of behavior. In many ways it’s a much harsher world than this one, but it’s more honest as well.”

There was nothing else to do then than to say farewell to those who were bound for the
Turnabout
. Words were exchanged, as well as handshakes and hugs. Then Onu, Hinto, Tresslar, and Solus boarded the longboat. The halfling untied the mooring lines, and the psiforged used his telekinetic powers to back the boat away from the dock.

Onu called out, “Good sailing to us all!” Then Solus propelled the longboat across the bay toward the waiting elemental galleon. It didn’t take long for the party to board the vessel, and the ship set sail soon afterward. The remaining companions watched as their friends sailed out of Regalport’s bay. The vessel looked like a normal galleon, but that was just its illusion in effect. Once out to sea, Onu would order the air elementals to be activated, and the ship would head off at full speed toward Kolbyr.

“I’m surprised the shipwrights were able to repair the
Turnabout
in such a short time,” Ghaji said. “Actually, given the severity of the damage she sustained, it’s a wonder they even tried.”

“Prince Ryger was most grateful for our efforts to stop the wereshark invasion,” Diran said. “I imagine he instructed the shipwrights to make every effort to do the job as quickly as possible.”

Yvka smiled. “Or else.”

Diran had mixed feelings about the aftermath of the wereshark invasion. Solus had managed to drive off the weresharks that Nathifa had summoned, but the monsters had killed many of Regalport’s citizens before fleeing. The lycanthropes had infected many more, and Prince Ryger had ordered those now cursed with the taint of the wereshark to be rounded up and imprisoned. Ryger had wanted to execute them, though the Prince took no joy in the thought, but
Diran had talked him out of it. The goal was to prevent the newly infected lycanthropes from slaying anyone or further spreading their contagion, not to kill them for possessing an affliction over which they had no control. It wasn’t a satisfying solution, but it would have to do. Diran remembered once more Tusya’s words:
Sometimes cold comfort is the only kind we get in this life
.

So true.

“It is time that I take my leave as well,” Leontis said.

Diran turned to his friend, surprised by his fellow priest’s pronouncement. “I take it you no longer wish me to kill you?”

Leontis smiled. “Perhaps another day. I’ve spent much time over the last ten days exploring my new abilities and trying to decide what, if anything, I should do with them. I meant what I said earlier about the sea, Diran. It’s … different there. Good and Evil still exist, of course, but the expressions they take are unique to their world. Perhaps I have been cursed, but what I choose to do with that curse is up to me. Look at you. You were born with a talent for knife work that borders on genius. You were sold into slavery, raised by a brotherhood of assassins, and implanted with an evil spirit to make certain you remained cruel and heartless. You’ve since managed to put that dark past behind you and dedicate your life to helping others, but instead of discarding your knowledge of the art of killing, you now use your skills in service of the Silver Flame. You’ve taught me that it’s possible to employ darkness in the fight against Evil. Perhaps I am no longer one of the Purified, but that doesn’t mean I still can’t fight for the Flame in my own way.”

The priest paused and smiled, and his teeth seemed slightly sharper than they had a moment ago.

“Besides, I used to hunt lycanthropes on land, where they are few and far between. But the seas are full of the creatures. The hunting will be good there.”

Diran wasn’t certain what to make of his friend’s words, but before he could think further on the matter, Leontis disrobed, dropped his clothes to the dock, waved once, then turned and dove into the water. The priest entered the sea as a man, but the creature that swam away was an amalgamation of wolf and shark.

Ghaji stepped to Diran’s side. “Do you regret letting him go?”

“He seemed to learn a measure of control over his bestial side during his time with us. And as he said, the sea is a very different world from ours. Perhaps he was destined for it all along.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” Ghaji said.

Diran smiled. “I never said it did.”

“I’m afraid I must go as well,” Yvka said.

The two friends turned to the elf-woman.

“Will you be gone long?” Ghaji asked.

“It’s difficult to say. The Hierarchs would prefer that I reveal as little about my destination and goals as possible. But they had the
Zephyr
repaired, so she’s just as swift as she ever was. I’ll return as fast as I can. I promise.”

Diran looked at Ghaji, attempting to gauge his partner’s reaction. The priest knew Yvka’s tendency toward secrecy was something of a sore point with his friend, and now that she possessed a dragonmark, the Hierarchs of House Thuranni were going to send her on missions of greater import than before. Which, in turn, meant she could tell Ghaji even less about where she was going or what she was supposed to do there once she arrived.

But Ghaji smiled and simply said, “I wish you success. Come back to me when you can.”

The two lovers embraced and kissed, and Diran knew Ghaji had made his peace with Yvka’s lifestyle.

“I won’t be going alone, however,” Yvka said. “The Hierarchs have assigned me a partner.”

Coils of white vapor drifted onto the dock, gathered together, and coalesced into human form.

Makala grinned. “Guess who it is?”

Diran turned to Yvka and Ghaji, and from the amused look on the half-orc’s face, it was clear he’d known about this development for some time.

“Leontis isn’t the only one who’s decided to use his abilities for good. Well … assuming you can term House Thuranni’s goals as
good
. But at least I’ll have a purpose in life—or undeath.”

Makala stepped forward and took both of Diran’s hands in hers.
“I just want to say that I’m so sorry about Asenka. If I could’ve stopped Haaken—”

“Don’t,” Diran interrupted. “You weren’t in control of your actions then.” He smiled sadly. “Asenka would’ve understood.”

“Well, I am in control now, and I’ll do everything in my power to resist the darkest part of my nature.”

“I may be able to help with that,” Diran said. He reached back into his cloak and pulled an object from within one of its pockets.

Makala let go of his hands and stepped back, as if she feared Diran was going to attack her.

“Don’t worry. It’s not something that will harm you.” Diran held up a lump of misshapen iron on the end of a chain. “This is the magic medallion Thokk used to make certain no one could reveal … a certain secret.” Even now, Diran could not speak the truth about the elemental galleon, even though Makala already knew it. “Tresslar called it an Oathbinder. He salvaged it from Thokk’s body before we buried him.”

Makala looked at the Oathbinder warily. “I don’t understand.”

“I want you to swear on this medallion that you will never take an innocent life,” Diran said.

Makala stared at him in disbelief. “I don’t see how a simple promise—even one that I’m magically bound to keep—can combat the bloodthirst, Diran. It’s … too strong.”

“That’s why I asked Tresslar to make some adjustments. It took him longer than he thought, and he only finished a few hours ago. I asked Tresslar to increase the power of any oath sworn on the object so that the swearer would be unable to break that oath, no matter what the provocation—even if magic of a very high order was used against the swearer. Magic such as that contained in a vampire’s curse.”

Makala looked upon the Oathbinder with mounting wonder. “You mean if I swear on that thing, I won’t be able to harm anyone, even if I want to?”

“You won’t be able to take an innocent life,” Diran said. “It will be up to you to interpret those words for yourself. But I trust you to interpret them wisely.”

“Are you certain it will work?”

“Tresslar thinks it will, though he said such an oath will use up all the remaining magic within the object, rendering it forever useless afterward.” Diran held out the object. “Place your hand upon the Oathbinder, Makala. That is, if you want to.”

Makala hesitated for a moment before laying her hand atop the iron medallion.

“Speak these words: I shall never take an innocent life, no matter how long I may exist.”

Makala repeated the words, her voice quavering slightly. Light glittered across the surface of the medallion, and when it was finished, the iron collapsed into gray dust in Diran’s palm, leaving only the chain unaffected. Diran shook the dust off his hand, and it was carried out over the water by the breeze. He then tucked the chain back into his cloak.

“It is done.”

“I don’t
feel
any different,” Makala said doubtfully.

“As with all things, only time will tell,” Diran said.

“Time I now have, thanks to you.” Makala came forward to embrace him, and though her body was cold, she felt good in Diran’s arms. When they parted, Makala glanced toward the eastern horizon. The sky was growing lighter as dawn drew near.

The vampire turned to Yvka. “We should go. If I’m not sealed in my sarcophagus before daylight, our partnership will end up being extremely short-lived.”

Yvka laughed, and the two women walked away toward shore. Diran didn’t know where the
Zephyr
was moored. Presumably House Thuranni had private docks. Ghaji and he watched Yvka and Makala go until the women were lost to their sight.

“We’ll see them again,” Ghaji said.

“I hope so.”

The friends stood in silence for a time after that, watching as the sun rose in the eastern sky. Gulls drifted on the air currents, and the wharf began to come to life as men and women started their workday.

After a time, Ghaji said, “So, what’s next?”

Diran considered. “Breakfast, I think.”

“And afterward?”

“Whatever fate brings our way.” The priest smiled. “What else?”

Ghaji grinned. “What else, indeed?”

And the two companions walked down the dock, heading back into the city.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tim Waggoner’s novels include
Pandora Drive
and
Like Death
(Leisure Books),
A Nightmare on Elm Street: Protégé
(Black Flame),
Godfire: The Orchard of Dreams, Godfire: Heart’s Wound, Necropolis
(Five Star),
Exalted: A Shadow Over Heaven’s Eye, Dark Ages: Gangrel
(White Wolf),
Defender: Hyperswarm
(I-Books), and
The Harmony Society
(Prime Books). He is also the author of the short story collection
All Too Surreal
(Prime Books). He is the author of two books in the D
RAGONLANCE
®: T
HE
N
EW
A
DVENTURES
series,
Temple of the Dragonslayer
and
Return of the Sorceress
(Wizards of the Coast), as well as many novels and short stories for teens and adults. He’s published close to eighty short stories of horror and fantasy, and his articles on writing have appeared in
Writer’s Digest, Writers’ Journal
, and other publications.

He teaches creative writing at Sinclair Community College in Dayton, Ohio. Visit him on the web at
www.timwaggoner.com
.