Serpent Mage (26 page)

Perhaps I should tell her. Perhaps that would be best. But how can I explain? How can I explain that to fall in love in the Labyrinth is to inflict a deliberate wound on yourself? Nothing good can come of love. Nothing but death and bitter sorrow and empty loneliness.

And how can I explain that a Patryn could never seriously love a mensch? There were instances, according to what Haplo knew about the pre-Sundering days, when Patryns, men and women both, had found pleasure among the mensch. Such liaisons were safe
¹
and amusing. But that had been long ago. His people took life more seriously now.

Alake lowered her eyes, her lips were parted in a shy smile. Haplo realized that he had been staring at her and, undoubtedly, she was getting the wrong impression.

“Go on, now. Clear out,” he said gruffly. “Go back to your cabins and make yourself ready. I don't think we have long to wait. Devon, you might take one of those knives, just to be on the safe side. You, too, Grundle.”

“I'll show you where to find them,” Alake offered.

She smiled at Haplo as she left, cast him a sidelong glance from beneath her long eyelashes, then led the way out the door.

Devon followed after her. The elf studied Haplo on the way out, and the elf's eyes were suddenly cool and shadowed. He said nothing, however. It was Grundle who stopped on the threshold, jaw outthrust, side whiskers bristling.

“You hurt her”—the dwarf raised a small, threatening fist—“and, snakes or no snakes, I'll kill you.”

“I think you have other matters to concern you,” said Haplo quietly.

“Humpf!” Grundle snorted, and shook her whiskers at him,
Turning her small back, she stumped off, battle-ax bouncing on her shoulder.

“Damn!” Haplo slammed shut the door.

The Patryn paced his small cabin, making plans, discarding them, making others. He had just come to the point of admitting to himself that this was all nonsense, that he was trying futilely to control what he had no control over, when his room was suddenly plunged into darkness.

Haplo stopped in his tracks, blind, disoriented. The submersible hit something, the jolt sent him flying. He crashed up against one of the walls. A grinding sound coming from below led him to guess the ship had run aground.

The vessel rocked, shifted, listed to one side, then seemed to settle itself. All movement, all sound, ceased.

Haplo stood absolutely still, holding his breath, listening.

His cabin was no longer dark. The sigla on his skin glowed a bright blue, bathing himself and every object in the small cabin with an eerie, shimmering light. Haplo had only once before seen the runes react this strongly to danger and that had been in the Labyrinth, when he'd accidentally stumbled upon the cave of a blood dragon, the most feared of all the fearsome creatures in that hellish place.

He'd turned tail and run then, run until his leg muscles burned and cramped and his lungs ached, run until he'd been literally sobbing with pain and exhaustion, and then he'd run some more. His body was telling him to run for it now….

He stared at the glowing sigla, felt the almost-maddening tingling sensation pricking him to action. But the dragon-snakes had not threatened him. They had done just the reverse, promising him—or seeming to promise him—revenge on an ancient enemy.

“It could be a trick,” he reasoned. “A trick to lure me here. A trap? But why?”

He looked again at the runes on his skin, was reassured. He was strong, his magic was strong, back to normal. If
it was a trap, these dragon-snakes were going to discover they'd caught more than they'd bargained for—

Cries, shouts, footsteps, jarred Haplo from his thoughts.

“Haplo!” It was Grundle, howling.

He flung open his door. The mensch came running toward him, racing down the corridor. Alake lit their way, holding in her hand a lantern containing some sort of spongelike creature that gave off a bright, white light.
²
The mensch appeared considerably startled to see Haplo, whose skin was glowing as brightly as their lantern. They stumbled to a halt, huddled together, stared at him in awe.

In the darkness, the sigla shining brilliantly, he must be a marvelous spectacle.

“I… I guess we don't need this,” said Alake faintly, and dropped the lantern.

It fell to the deck with a clatter that went through Haplo like sharp knives.

“Shut up!” he hissed.

The three gulped, nodded, exchanged frightened glances.

They must think the dragon-snakes are spying on us. Well, perhaps they are, Haplo thought grimly. Every trained and inbred instinct warned him to tread softly, walk warily.

He motioned, with his hand, for them to come closer. They moved down the passageway, trying their best to be quiet. Alake's beads jangled, Grundle's heavy boots thumped on the deck with a hollow sound, Devon got tangled up in his skirts, tripped, stumbled into a wall.

“Hush!” Haplo commanded softly, furiously. “Don't move!”

The mensch froze. Making less noise than the darkness, Haplo crept over to Grundle, knelt beside her.

“What's happened? Do you know?”

The dwarf nodded, opened her mouth.

Haplo drew her near him, pointed to his ear. Her whiskers tickled his cheek.

“I think we've sailed into a cave.”

Haplo considered. Yes, that made sense. It would explain the sudden darkness.

“Is this place where the dragon-snakes live, do you think?” asked Alake.

She had moved over to stand beside Haplo. He could feel her slender body trembling, but her voice was firm.

“Yes, the dragon-snakes are here,” Haplo said, looking at the glowing sigla on his hands.

Alake edged closer. Devon drew a deep, shivering breath, pressed his lips tightly together. Grundle humpfed and frowned.

No screams, no tears, no panic. Haplo was forced to give the mensch grudging credit for that much courage.

“What do we do?” asked Devon, trying very hard to keep his voice from cracking.

“We stay here,” said Haplo. “We don't go anywhere or do anything. We wait.”

“We're not going to be waiting very long,” Grundle observed.

“What? Why not?” Haplo demanded.

In answer, she pointed above his head. Haplo looked up. The light shining from his skin illuminated the wooden planks above them. They were wet, shining. A drop of water fell to the floor at Haplo's feet. Another followed, and another.

Haplo sprang back, flattened himself against the wall. He stared at the water on the deck, looked up at the drops that were falling from the overhead. The drops had merged into a trickle, the trickle was rapidly becoming a stream.

“The ship's breaking apart,” stated Grundle, then frowned. “Dwarven submersibles don't break apart, though. It must be the snakes.”

“They're driving us out. We'll have to swim,” said Alake. “Don't worry, Grundle. Devon and I will help you.”

“In not worried,” said the dwarf. Her gaze slid to Haplo.

For the first time in his life, he knew stark terror— weakening, debilitating. His fear robbed him of his ability to think, to reason. He could do nothing except stare with a terrible fascination at the water that was creeping nearer and nearer his feet.

Swim! He almost laughed. So it
is
a trap! They lure me here, then see to it that I'm helpless.

Water splashed on his arm. Haplo flinched, wiped it off hastily. Too late. Where the seawater touched the skin, the sigla's glow darkened. The water was rising, it sloshed over the toes of his boots. He could feel the circle of his magic slowly begin to crack and crumble.

“Haplo! What's wrong!” Alake cried.

A section of the hull gave way. Wood snapped and splintered. Water cascaded in through the gaping hole. The elf lost his footing, slid beneath the torrent. Alake, clinging to an upright beam, caught hold of Devon's wrist, saved him from being washed down the corridor. He staggered to his feet.

“We can't stay here!” he shouted.

The water was level with Grundles waist and the dwarf maid was starting to panic. Her nut-brown complexion had gone sallow. Her eyes were round, her chin beginning to quiver. Dwarves can breathe the seawater, in the same manner as elves and humans, but—probably because their solid bodies are so ungainly in the water—they don't like the sea, don't trust it.

Grundle had never been in water up over her ankles. Now it was rising to her chest.

“Help! Alake, Devon! help m-me!” she shrieked, flailing about with her arms, splashing wildly. “Alakeeeee!”

“Grundle! It's all right!”

“Here, catch hold of my hand. Ouch! Don't pinch. I've got you. Let loose a bit. There, take Alake's hand, too.”

“I have you, Grundle. You're going to be fine. Relax. No, don't swallow the water. Duck your head down and take a breath just as you would the air. No! Don't! You'll choke! She's choking. Grundle…”

The dwarf sank beneath the water, came up coughing and sputtering, increasing her panic.

“We better get her to the surface!” cried Devon.

Alake cast a worried look in Haplo's direction.

He had neither moved nor spoken. The water was up to his thighs. The light from his skin had all but died out.

Haplo saw her look, saw that
she
was concerned about him. He almost laughed out loud.

“Go on!” he snarled.

More planks were giving way, the water was almost to Grundle's nose. The dwarf maid fought to keep her head above it, panted and gurgled.

Devon winced in pain. “She's tearing my hand off, Alake! Come on!”

“Go!” Haplo commanded angrily.

The hull gave way with a shattering crash. Water surged inside the ship, closed over Haplo's head. He lost sight of the mensch, lost sight of everything. It was as if night had taken on liquid shape and form. He knew a moment's panic equal to the dwarf's. He held his breath until it hurt, not wanting to breathe the darkness. A part of his despairing mind told him it would be far easier to drown. His body refused to let him, however.

He gasped, began to breathe water. After a few moments, his head cleared. He couldn't see, and groped his way among the wreckage. Shoving broken timbers to one side, he managed to free himself.

He swam aimlessly, wondering if he was going to be doomed to flounder about in this watery night until he collapsed from exhaustion. But even as the thought took shape in his mind, his head popped up out of the water. Gratefully, he sucked in air.

Floating on the surface, he trod water quietly, and looked around him.

A large campfire had been built on the shore. Wood crackled and burned, offering comforting warmth and light. Its ruddy glow was reflected off the cavern's rock ceiling and walls.

Haplo sensed fear, coming from outside him. Overwhelming teiTor suiTOunded him. The walls were covered with some sort of sticky green-brown substance that seemed to ooze
from the rock like blood. He had the strange impression that the cave itself was wounded, that it lived in fear. Fear and horrible pain.

Ridiculous.

Haplo glanced swiftly behind him, to either side, but could see little. Here and there, a gleam of firelight played on wet rock.

The sound of splashing drew his attention. Three figures—black shadows against the orange firelight—emerged from the water. Two of the figures were helping the third, who could not walk. By this, the musical sound of clashing beads, and a muffled groan from the third figure, Haplo judged them to be his mensch.

He saw no sign of the dragon-snakes.

Alake and Devon managed to drag Grundle partway up the shore. Once there, obviously exhausted, they let loose of her hands. All sank down to rest. But Alake had only taken a few deep breaths before she was back on her feet, heading again for the water.

“Where are you going?” The elf's clear voice echoed in the cavern.

“I've got to find him, Devon! He may need help. Did you see his face—”

Haplo, muttering imprecations beneath his breath, swam for the shore. Alake heard the sound of his splashing. Unable to see what or who was making the noise, she froze. Devon hurried to her side. Metal glinted in his hand.

“It's me!” Haplo called to them. His stomach scraped against solid ground. He stood up, walked, dripping, out of the water.

“Are … are you all right?” Alake reached out a timid hand, withdrew it at the sight of the scowl on Haplo's face.

No, he wasn't all right. He was all wrong.

Ignoring both the human and the elf, he stomped past them, strode swiftly to the fire. The sooner he dried off, the sooner his magic would return. The dwarf lay in a sodden heap on the sand. He wondered if she was dead. A muffled groan reassured him.

“She hurt?” he asked, reaching the fire.

“No,” answered Devon, coming up from behind.

“She's scared, more than anything,” Alake added. “She'll come around. What… what are you doing?”

“Taking off my clothes,” Haplo grunted. He had stripped off his shirt and his boots, was now unlacing his leather trousers.

Alake gave a strangled cry. She hastily averted her face, covered her eyes with her hands. Haplo grunted again. If the girl had never seen a naked man before, she was going to see one now. He had neither the time nor the patience to indulge a human female's sensibilities. Though his warning magic was gone, the sigla washed away, he had the distinct feeling that they weren't alone in this cave. They were being watched.

Flinging his trousers to the sand, Haplo crouched by the blaze, held out his hands and arms to the warming fire. In satisfaction, he watched the droplets of water evaporate, begin to dry. He glanced around.

“Pull your scarf over your head,” he ordered Devon. “Sit by the fire. It'd look suspicious if you didn't. But keep your face out of the light. And put that damn knife away!”

Devon did as he was told. He thrust the knife in his breast, dragged a strip of wet cloth up over his head and face. Shivering, he crept near the fire, started to squat down, legs crossed.

“Don't sit like a man!” Haplo hissed. “On your knees. That's it. Alake, bring Grundle over here. And wake her up. I want everyone conscious and alert.”

Alake nodded, not taking time to reply. She hastened over to the prostrate dwarf.