In the Claws of the Tiger (22 page)

I
can’t see her any more,” Dania said, and Janik slammed his fist into the bulwark.

The four companions were perched at the prow, less than a week from the end of their journey across the Phoenix Basin. Two weeks had passed since the ship appeared behind them. A week ago, she had come even with them, though she kept her distance. For all their apprehension, the passing of the other ship had been uneventful. Dania and Mathas could see figures moving on the deck, but even when Dania borrowed the lookout’s spyglass, she was unable to identify them.

The other ship never closed within hailing distance or showed any threat. Janik even entertained occasional doubts that Krael was on the other ship—maybe it was a Morgrave or Wayfinder expedition to Mel-Aqat or some other site in the great desert Menechtarun. Maybe she was keeping a safe distance out of fear of pirates. Most of the time, though, he listened to his dread, and as the ship sailed out of sight ahead of them, he felt a crushing defeat.

“How long until we make land?” Janik asked no one in particular.

“I just checked with Breddan,” Auftane answered. “We’ll probably wake up on the fourth day from now in sight of land, and once we choose our harbor, we should drop anchor by midday.”

“And how much faster is Krael going?”

“Well, it took him two weeks to gain about twenty miles on us,” Auftane said, furrowing his brow in concentration. “So he’ll probably make landfall sometime during the night, just before we arrive.”

“So his head start will depend on how much darkness he still has once he lands,” Janik said. “If he gets to shore only a little before dawn and he needs to stop, then we could easily catch up and pass him in our first day’s travel.”

“Assuming we get to shore well before sundown,” Dania said.

“And passing him might not be that simple,” Mathas said. “If he has soldiers with him, they could set up patrols around their camp. We would have to give it a wide berth to avoid them.”

“And are you vampire experts sure he can’t travel during daylight?” Janik said, looking from Dania to Mathas.

“I’m not sure of anything,” Dania said, even as Mathas shook his head.

“No?” Janik said, his eyebrows raised.

“He has enough people with him to crew a ship,” Mathas said. “In theory—”

“That’s enough people to carry his coffin through the jungle?” Janik said.

“If not his coffin, then maybe an urn holding his mist form—or something,” Dania said.

“But the living ones need to rest, too,” Auftane pointed out. “They can’t travel night and day.”

“But it’s possible they could take the lead early on and keep it,” Janik said. “That’s exactly what I didn’t want to hear.”

“You worry too much, Janik,” Dania said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We can’t know how it will turn out until we’re there. Let’s concentrate on getting to shore and getting to Mel-Aqat as quickly as we can.”

“You’re right,” Janik said. He sighed, then smiled. “As much as it pains me to admit it.”

A playful push from Dania sent Janik off balance, and he stumbled a few steps, laughing.

The sun rose on the fourth day and no one needed the lookout to point out the ship’s masts rising in the distance ahead of them—or the land rising gently from the water ahead of her. The ship’s sails were furled, and even Dania and Mathas could see no one moving on deck. A rocky beach stretched out beyond the ship, giving way to a line of low bluffs crowned with dry, brown scrub.

Janik spent the morning on the prow, unable to eat, watching the miles between them and the shore diminish with agonizing slowness. His stomach was clenched in a knot—the reality was sinking in at last that he was returning to Mel-Aqat. Last time they had passed this very stretch of coast, but had continued farther to the south, making land at the edge of the desert. He couldn’t say he remembered this place, but it was familiar—its shape, its looming shore, the sense of untamed wilderness, and the heat weighing on him. Just for a moment, he was sure he saw something large and predatory lumbering along the top of the bluffs, solidifying
that sense of utter wildness. Stormreach, in many ways, felt like just another city, though the hill giants working with the city watch were exotic—not something you’d see in Sharn, let alone Fairhaven. But this was Xen’drik, and everything Janik associated with it. Ahead lay new land to be discovered … and one old defeat he had to face again.

Breddan approached the shore slowly. He didn’t have charts to show the dangers that might lie in the water—Janik doubted such charts existed—and the wash of sand from the beach ahead clouded the water so they couldn’t see any reefs, rocks, or sandbars that might obstruct their path or tear the hull. Breddan also tried to avoid getting too close to the other ship, which the lookout had identified as
Hope’s Endeavor
.

How Krael had managed to leave Stormreach on that ship was a mystery to them all. Janik had expected the Stormreach watch to keep a close eye on that ship above all else, but it was possible that Krael and his allies were strong enough to fight their way onto the ship and sail out of the harbor. Neither the lookout nor Mathas and Dania, with their sharp elf eyes, could see any sign of life aboard that ship, but that only made the crew of the
Silverknife
more uneasy about getting close to it.

About half a mile from land and roughly even with
Hope’s Endeavor
, Breddan declared that they would go no closer, and gave the order to drop anchor. Dania and Auftane had been getting the keelboat ready to launch, moving all their supplies onto it and checking it for any damage it might have sustained.

“We part ways here, Janik Martell,” Breddan said, joining Janik on the prow.

“Yes, this is it,” Janik replied. “I am most grateful for your work, Breddan Omaar.” He shifted to the Goblin tongue and
clasped his fist to his chest. “Your ancestors’ swords were keen and strong,” he said with a small bow.

Breddan returned the gesture and the Goblin phrase, then added in Common, “I pray that the Silver Flame will bless and guard the rest of your journey.”

“Thank you,” Janik said stiffly. “I hope that your return journey to Stormreach is completely uneventful, and that you find more work before your payment for this trip is completely exhausted.”

“Thank you, Janik Martell,” Breddan said. “I feel as though this is the beginning of a new time in my life, when work will not be so hard to find. The Silver Flame smiles on me for helping you—I feel it in my heart.”

“I hope you are right, Breddan. You’re a good man, and you deserve better than you’ve had so far.”

“Janik!” Dania’s voice came from the main deck. “We’re ready!”

“Goodbye,” Janik said, extending his hand.

“Goodbye, Janik.” Breddan clasped his hand firmly and shook it. “I will take my leave of your companions as well.”

They walked together off the forecastle to where Dania, Mathas, and Auftane stood, along with many members of Breddan’s crew. Breddan shook Auftane’s hand vigorously, bowed deeply to Mathas, and extended a hand to Dania—which she brushed aside as she threw her arms around him. The reddish skin of the hobgoblin’s face deepened to purple, but he returned her embrace. The rest of the gathered crew wished them well—even the mute half-orc clapped Janik warmly on the shoulder. They lowered the keelboat into the water, climbed down into it, and began to paddle their way slowly to the shore.

“The wilds of Xen’drik,” Auftane said quietly, wonder in
his voice. “I can’t believe we’re really here.”

“I can’t believe we’re back,” Janik said.

“Have you been into the wilderness before, Auftane?” Dania asked, peering closely at the dwarf. “You grew up in Stormreach, right?”

“I did, but I’m as much a child of the city as you can be in a small city like Stormreach. We used to dare each other to go into the uninhabited ruins around Stormreach, but that’s as much as I’ve ever seen of Xen’drik’s wonders. I’ve traveled quite a bit in Khorvaire, of course, but I’ve stuck mostly to the cities. Remember, we’re farther from Stormreach now than we were in Sharn, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Are we really?” Dania exclaimed.

Janik pulled his rough map from his coat and measured with his fingers. “A little bit, yes,” he said. “Huh. I never thought about that.”

“Which is another way of saying we’re more than twice as far from civilization as we were in Stormreach,” Mathas said with a scowl, and the others all laughed.

“So the cities of Khorvaire were like my neighborhood,” Auftane continued. “This is the wilderness!”

“That’s right,” Janik said, his voice suddenly serious. “It doesn’t get more wild than this, and we all need to remember that. This is not the city, where danger is predictable and lurks in dark alleys. Some of the animals here will try to eat us. Some things lurk here that should not exist in a sane world, and they’ll try to do worse than that. Be on your guard, starting now.”

As if emphasizing Janik’s point, a large, smooth rock jutting just above the water suddenly began to rise. Water streamed down a hulking, crustacean form and two huge claws reached out toward the keelboat.

“In case you thought I was exaggerating,” Janik muttered, his sword springing into his hand. “Dania, get us to shore! We can’t let this thing tip us.”

“What is that?” To his credit, Auftane sounded genuinely curious rather than panicked, and he gripped his huge mace. “What’s the best way to kill it?”

“It’s a chewer,” Dania said, pulling hard on the oar while keeping a close eye on the creature.

“Chuul,” Mathas corrected, thrusting his hand toward the creature and sending a blast of frigid cold toward it. It slowed momentarily as the water pouring off its shell crystallized into ice, but the thing kept coming, spraying tiny shards of ice around it.

“Stay out of its claws!” Dania shouted.

“I could have guessed that,” Auftane said, and then the creature was upon them. Auftane swung his weapon, smashing it into one of the chuul’s claws. Janik drove his blade under the carapace just above the other claw, drawing a gout of greenish blood. Above them, a mass of slimy tentacles writhed like a nest of worms, dripping thick slime into their boat. Dania kept rowing and they surged forward, but the creature leaped toward them again, landing on an oar and snapping it.

“I guess I’m done rowing,” Dania said as she drew her sword. The chuul was behind the boat where only Dania could reach it, and its momentum brought its tentacled head down within her reach. In a flash, she cut a gash just above the tentacles, spraying herself with a mix of blood, slime, and seawater.

“Hold still a second, Dania,” Auftane said just behind her. She felt his hand on her shoulder.

“Hold still?” she shouted, dodging to her right as the
chuul’s claws came down on either side of her. Even as she dodged, she felt a surge of strength and knew Auftane had augmented her armor with his magic.

Mathas reached out to touch Janik’s sword. “It will cut deeper,” whispered the elf, and he patted Janik’s shoulder. “Good luck.” Janik gave Mathas an incredulous look and then turned to the chuul.

The creature slammed the rear of the keelboat, lifting the prow out of the water and propelling it forward a short distance, where it plowed into a sandbar, turned sideways, and lodged firmly. Janik jumped out of the boat, landing in water about knee-deep. He splashed toward the chuul, shouting in a vain attempt to frighten the monster away.

He got the creature’s attention and it edged along the boat to reach him, giving both Dania and Auftane the chance to land more blows on its back. Auftane managed a solid blow, crushing the hard shell on its back and causing blood to ooze freely around it. The creature turned away from Janik and grabbed Auftane in one of its claws, lifting him into the air. Janik jumped forward and drove his sword toward the chuul’s underbelly as it raised both claws, but its belly was as heavily plated as its back, and his sword glanced aside.

The chuul raised Auftane toward the writhing mass of tentacles at its head, and they twisted like giant, slime-covered worms around his limbs, neck, and torso. The dwarf’s dark skin paled as the slime penetrated his skin, sending a paralytic venom into his muscles. As Janik jabbed in vain at the creature’s legs, the dwarf struggled and then froze. The tentacles drew him closer, and beyond Auftane’s stiff body, Janik could see a set of mandibles beginning to open and close in anticipation of tasting the dwarf’s flesh.

Janik thrashed with his sword, hoping to distract the
chuul again, but he couldn’t land a solid blow from where he stood.

“For the Flame!” Dania’s cry turned Janik’s head, and he saw her leap from the keelboat onto the creature’s back. She had sheathed her sword and pulled out a dagger, and as she landed on the thing’s shell, she found a spot to drive the thin blade between the armored plates, drawing a fresh gout of blood. Janik saw a stream of green join the water dripping from the chuul’s mouth as the thing’s mandibles started tearing at Auftane’s flesh.

“Hold on, Auftane!” she called out. “I’m coming for you!” Dodging the chuul’s claws as it reached over its back toward her, she scrambled to the tentacles that held Auftane and started hacking at them with her dagger. Each slash of the small blade sliced a few tentacles, cutting some off and making others recoil, loosening their hold on the dwarf. As Janik watched from below Auftane, fell into the water with a splash that drenched Janik.