Embremere

CHAPTER SIX

   

   

   

  It was morning, although it was difficult for one to tell, the dark grey of the storm still present over the area. The walked the rain-slicked stones of Old Embremere, led by six of the Minders, their robes soaked and their long staves tapping out a chaotic rhythm upon the street. There was fear in their eyes as the first of the tall spires came into view, its surface stark white against the cloudy sky. The Wychan glyph that had been painted there, as tall as a house, had been nearly weathered away, its color now faint and pale.

  This is where it all started, the origin of the Wychan order. I can't believe I'm here.

  The feeling inside of him was hard to explain, reverence, respect and admiration for those that had come before him. This was a sacred place, for the Wychan, the most important place that existed. Generations had lived here, perfecting their art and passing the knowledge down to their children. He would be the first to set foot inside in hundreds of years.

  "This is where we leave you, master. We will not set foot within the temple grounds. Good luck to you and may you find that which you search for. We will await your return within the Flats," Gedwin said, eyeing the spires suspiciously.

  "Your help is greatly appreciated, elder," Grivvin replied. "We will see you again soon."

  They waved as they quickly backed away down the street and disappeared out of sight.

  He and Lyrica climbed a steep hill, the grand edifice of the Wychan temple coming into view. A massive stone wall surrounded the building, crumbling in places. The gates stood open, huge iron doors decorated with aquatic scenes set in relief upon their surface. Lightning flashed, revealing all of the hidden details of the temple, its many towers and balconies, the large stained glass window set high in its facade. Most of the glass had fallen from the frame, but a few shards remained all of brilliant color.

  “Grivvin, look at this,” Lyrica said. He stepped to her side as she ran her hand along the outer wall. What had at first appeared to be random engravings, now were obviously depressions formed by thousands of hands. Within each handprint, a name had been inscribed.

  “I think these are the names of all who became Wychanmore, the highest possible rank within our order. Amazing…” He carefully placed his palm inside one of the depressions, thinking of the past and those that had dwelled there. Everyone who had left their handprint here was now dead and long gone.

  “Should I wait outside? I feel strange going in. I’m really an outsider in this place,” Lyrica said studying the wall with her fingers.

  “Nonsense," Grivvin said, pulling her along beside him. "You'll be much safer in there than out here, don't you think? Come on, let's go see what secrets are hidden inside."

  "Do you know what you're looking for?" she asked.

  "No, not really. The magic has been fading for so long. I hope to find some clue as to why. Maybe then I can learn how to reawaken it."

  Stepping through the gate, their attention was immediately drawn to the large circular mosaic on the ground in front of them. Many of the tiny, colored stones were missing now, but it was evident that, at one point, it had been the Wychan glyph. Other than the mosaic, the rest of the courtyard was overgrown with weeds, grasses and wildflowers. As they began to wade through these toward the front entryway of the temple, Grivvin felt the pulse of energy once more, surging through his body. It took his breath and he stopped for a moment, blinking his eyes and shaking his head.

  "What is it?" Lyrica asked.

  "It's just as before. I can feel the power again, very strong. Why now?"

  "Is it because we are on the temple grounds?" she asked.

  "That wasn't the case before, but I suppose anything is possible. How do I control this? How do I turn it off and on?"

  "I wish I could help, Grivvin. It has to be frustrating. Let's get inside, maybe the answers are there," she said and walked with him to the door. He pushed against it with his hand and it swung open easily on its hinges. Oddly, there were no cobwebs as one would suspect, the place being so old. It was dim inside, but they could see a large entry hall with many tall statues on wooden stands. A dozen steps later and they entered a circular room with bookcases lining the walls. Above, there was a second floor, a metal railing hugging the perimeter. Most of the books were still in place, untouched all of this time. The tables and chairs showed signs of weathering, some of them now broken in pieces upon the floor.

  From this room, many corridors led away to other parts of the temple and Grivvin decided that he should explore all of them before leaving this place. Lyrica walked up to the closest bookcase, tracing the spines of the thick books with her finger.

  "Gods, where do we start?" she asked. "It would take a lifetime to read all of these."

  "Based on everything that I have been taught, I know that these books are not the ones that I am looking for. Those would not be kept in the library. They would be hidden away and kept secure. We need to look deeper," Grivvin said, looking around at the various other hallways. Next to each passage, a large glyph had been painted, each different and unknown to him. He studied the first, trying to make sense of the symbols when a clattering sound from across the room snapped him to attention. He glanced at Lyrica, his eyes wide and together they moved toward the passage from which the sound had come. It was too dark down the corridor for them to see anything and they paused for a moment. Grivvin scratched his chin in thought.

  "Do you have an idea?" she asked.

  "I've memorized dozens of charms over the years. I've never had the power to cast them. Now I do."

  "Go on."

  "Maybe it's time I try them out. I may never have the chance again," he said. She nodded with a smile.

  He placed his fingertips together in concentration and began to produce a deep humming sound in his throat. He brought his hands out and away from his chest, then back in.

  "Pok Pok-den, Illuminus...."

  Three heartbeats passed and a ball of light appeared within his hands. He held it aloft like a glowing ball in his palm, illuminating the hallway in front of them. Lyrica grinned and rubbed his back.

  "You did it, Grivvin! Incredible."

  He exhaled and smiled, proud of his first real Wychan incantation. It felt amazing to live up to his potential. Never before had a charm been successful in this manner. In the past, only the tiniest of spells would work and not to their full strength. He moved his hand around in the air and watched as the glowing trail of magic moved about like a ghostly serpent, always attached to him.

  Another loud noise came from farther down the corridor and Lyrica drew her sword. This time, once the commotion had ended, they could hear a man's voice cursing not far away. They stared at each other in confusion and started cautiously down the hall.

  "I hope you have something a little deadlier prepared in case they aren't friendly," Lyrica whispered.

  They passed several closed doors on their way toward the source of the sound, eventually descending two flights of stairs and coming to a tall, iron door standing slightly ajar.

  Grivvin leaned around the door, peering into the room. He could see the back of a man hunched over a large and cluttered desk, long greying hair and thin frame. Something within the room was giving off a strong, green light, bathing everything in an eerie hue. Upon the desk were many glass containers, their lids cast aside, full of various powders and liquids of many colors. He could hear the man mumbling to himself as he raised one hand in front of him. There was a small flash and the sudden odor of sulfur that culminated with the man slamming his fist down in anger.

  Grivvin stepped forward.

  "Excuse me, sir?" he said as he entered the room.

  The man visibly jumped where he stood, startled and spun to face him, his eyes wide.

  "Who-? Heaven save me...Grivvin! Son!"

  Grivvin was taken aback, unable to believe what he saw. His father had aged a great deal since last he saw him, a full beard covering his face, re
aching to his chest. The wrinkles in his forehead were far deeper than they had been upon their last visit.

  "Father? Th-they said you were dead!"

  He ran to him and they roughly embraced, both near tears.

  “Gods, I can’t believe you’re alive! They said that you killed yourself. I knew it wasn’t true.”

  "No, they tried to kill me, tried very hard. In the end, I escaped- wait, wait. What are you doing here, son? How in the world did you reach this place?"

  Lyrica joined them, waving politely to Grivvin's father.

  "And who is this? Oh! She is an Underdweller? You've been to the Under? Wait...they cast you out as well? Why?" his father asked.

  "They wanted me to stop this never-ending storm. I don't have that kind of power." Grivvin explained.

  "Oh, son. I have so much to show you! I've learned amazing things since I came to this place. I had no idea that when the order was founded, the Wychan were elemental in nature. We used the elements of nature to touch the Spiral! Have you noticed anything strange since you've been in Old Embremere?"

  Grivvin thought for a moment.

  "Just odd instances of sudden power, as if I was struck by lightning and filled to the brim with magic, but then it would vanish just as quickly. In fact, just now, when I stepped into the courtyard, it happened again."

  "That's it, son. You stepped across the courtyard. Across the ground. Don't you see? It's the very earth itself, the soil, the dirt. That is what we've been missing all of these centuries!"

  Grivvin thought back to those moments when the feeling had entered him. Within the duke's garden he had walked upon the soil. He had fallen in mud, been covered in it, when he fought the wolves. It made perfect sense. The soil of the earth had been the missing component in Wychan sorcery.

  “Why did the Wychan leave this place? If we need the earth to reach our full potential, why leave it?” he asked.

  “I don’t think the Wychan of old realized how drastic an effect it would have, removing one of the elements. That and I believe they were convinced by the royal family to leave land and move out onto the water. Based on what I have read, our order ruled the city. We were more powerful than the king himself in those days. I believe it was a plan to weaken us and bring the power back to the throne,” his father explained.

  “They tricked them. They convinced them to move away from here knowing that their magic would fade,” Grivvin said.

  “Exactly. A few generations later, they convinced the Wychan to create the cliff wall and the Maelstrom to protect this place from bandits. What they really did was seal it off from us, to protect their rule.”

  “I suppose they didn’t realize the extent of the weakening. They still needed our powers, but they wanted to control them. It’s been so long, do you think the royal family even knows this?”

  “The king knows. I would bet my life on that. His family, probably not. I’m sure he never expected any of us to make it back to this temple, but the dragons were created by Wychan, they are forbidden to harm us. That is something they never would have guessed,” said his father, motioning for Grivvin and Lyrica to be seated on a low sofa in the center of the room.

  “I’m sorry, young lady. In my excitement, I’ve failed to introduce myself. I am Kindin Lo’Rynin, Grivvin’s father and you are?”

  “Lyrica, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “And you as well,” he said, joining them where they sat.

  “What do we do?” Grivvin asked.

  “Your sisters need to be warned lest the same fate befall them.”

  “They’re gone, father. They were sent to Aesen some time ago.”

  “Aesen? What the devil for?” Kindin asked.

  “Someone discovered a Wychan book there and they were sent to study it.”

  “It is true that an offshoot of our order settled in Aesen, but by all accounts they died out long ago. Having one of their books would prove most useful to us,” his father said, staring blankly ahead. “Very well. You will stay here with me. Help me unlock the secrets of the ancient Wychan. We can bring our order back into power, son. Return this place to what it once was.”

  Grivvin imagined Old Embremere rebuilt and teeming with people, the wall coming down and the end of the Maelstrom. It would be truly majestic. He looked to Lyrica with a smile, but noticed to his surprise a look of sadness upon her face. It would not matter to her or the other Underdwellers whether the city thrived or not. They were trapped below the platform, scraping out an existence.

  “Father, I can’t stay. I’ve made a promise to Lyrica and with this new information you've given me, I can keep it. If I take a container of dirt with me, I can draw on its power,” Grivvin said. “They need help, father. We can’t just leave the Under the way it is. If we unlock the secrets of our magic, we should save them, free them from that prison.”

  "You sound like me," Kindin said with a smile. "Since I fell into their world, that's all I've wanted. I came close as well, but I was too much of a threat to the Cuda and their rule."

  "Take Athiel Way. That street runs straight through the city and reaches nearly to the wall. You should make good time. Listen, I have several boats that I have gathered from the ruins, good vessels. They are docked in a small cove below an overhang in the cliff to the south. Take one, but be warned, these do not come equipped with Wychan rudders. Take this."

  Kindin pulled a leather sack from his belt and handed it to Grivvin.

  "Do not remove what is inside until you are on the water."

  "What is it?" Grivvin asked, attempting to feel the inner object with his fingers.

  "I want it to be a surprise. You'll love it."

  His father stared at him silently for a moment, then stood, walking back to the desk.

  "You can at least stay for the night, yes?"

   

   

   

   

   

  In the morning, after an early meal, they stood together within the Wychan library. Kindin threw an arm around his son.

  “You want to be with her, I understand that,” he said. “You are your own man, after all and can make your own decisions. Do what you have to do, son. A promise must be kept, but please return here as soon as you can.”

  “Of course,” Grivvin replied.

  "Go with her, fulfill your obligations, but don't forget about what I have started here. Grivvin, we can bring our order back to its former strength. Every day, I discover something new! Listen, son, this is very important. The Wychan are far stronger when in contact with the ground. I've done some experiments and have found that if you take some of the soil with you, you can temporarily use its power. The magic fades quickly, though, it won't last long, you understand?"

  "Fill your boots with a layer of dirt. This will allow you to pull energy from it, but choose wisely son. When you've depleted the soil, it's gone. If it is not in contact with the earth, the energy dies."

  Grivvin nodded his understanding.

  "I wish I could stay, father. I'm so happy to find you alive. You'll be safe here?" he asked.

  "There is no safer place for a Wychan. Now go and hurry back, both of you. I hope to see you again, young lady. If you are important to my son, you are important to me. I can see in his eyes that he cares for you."

  Grivvin felt the heat rise in his cheeks, somewhat embarrassed by his father's words.

  "Thank you, sir," Lyrica replied. "I will get him back in one piece."

  They both hugged Kindin and said their farewells, returning the way they had come. Just outside the entryway, sheltered from the misting rain, Grivvin removed his boots and scooped handfuls of dirt into the bottom of them. Lyrica grabbed his shoulder and looked at him with concern.

  "Grivvin...you don't have to come-"

  "I promised you, Lyrica. I know I don't have to do this, but you saved my life. I would have drowned that night and if not, the Cuda would have gotten me. We'll go back and find out what's at the
bottom of that chain. I know the charms. Now I have the power to cast them. As you said, even the metal that the chain is made from is worth its weight in gold in the Under."

  Athiel Way was a wide street, paved with large stones, many now missing, leaving irregular holes in their path. Despite this, they covered ground quickly that morning, the high spires of the Wychan temple soon out of sight. It was an odd feeling, passing through this once-grand city, the tall and majestic buildings standing like silent ghosts, staring with their darkened windows and open doorways like yawning eyes at either side. The farther away from the temple they traveled, the more wildlife they began to see, numerous birds, wild dogs and the occasional rodent.

  "This place must have been truly beautiful," Lyrica said. "I hope your father is right. I hope the city can live again."

  "If anyone can make it happen, he can. He's always been a very driven man, especially after my mother passed away."

  "What happened to her?"

  "I was still quite young. It was the white sickness. It killed many people in Embremere," Grivvin explained, his eyes on the street.

  "In the Under as well. Where do you think they discarded the bodies? Oh, I'm sorry, Grivvin. That was thoughtless of me."

  "I didn't know that. Their ashes were supposed to spread on the water. You're saying that my mother's body was probably dumped from the platform? Gods! That's another reason to hate the nobles. From what my father has uncovered, it seems that they have been at this for a long time."

  "Once your father's research is complete, the Wychan will be strong again. You can have your revenge and I want to help," Lyrica announced with a hand on his shoulder.

  "I would like nothing more than to destroy that entire castle, bring their precious palace into the depths for what they've done to my family and to the people of the Under," said Grivvin.

  "I can't wait to see it," she said with a smile.

  "You'll never live to see it!" called out a voice to their left. Just then, several figures stepped out on to the street from either side. It was the Exiles and their scruffy leader with the ponytail. He moved forward, swinging a long knife in a rather cocky manner.

  "You see, we have unfinished business, we do. The Exiles can't exactly allow devils to roam the streets of Embrembere unchecked, can they? Looks like your saviors are nowhere to be seen," he said, receiving shouts and cheers from his followers. "Now, just where do you think you're heading?"

  Grivvin put his hands up in frustration, hoping to quiet the lad.

  "Last time, you caught these devils while they slept, remember? Now, we are prepared for you. I warn you, if you attack us, you will not be happy with the outcome," he said, pulling his knife from its sheath.

  The lad raised an eyebrow, pondering, then, let out a laugh. The others followed suit, roaring in unison in support of their foolish leader.

  "We've got some brave little devils here, don't we, boys?"

  He stepped toward Grivvin, waving his blade threateningly and baring his rotten teeth. Grivvin knew the ways of the blade inside and out, he had trained for years amongst the royal guard and mastered the techniques. He was not about to let this fool best him.

  He glanced at Lyrica who gave him a quick nod. He knew that she could handle herself as well and that he need not worry about her safety. As the boy approached, Grivvin's leg shot out, his boot catching his opponent's wrist, sending the knife flying through the air to land a stone's throw away. His attacker stared at his hand for a moment, dumbfounded, then ran to retrieve his weapon.

  "Luck, that's all!" the lad screamed as he returned.

  "You can't win. Take your rabble and go home," Grivvin offered, lowering his knife.

  "I can't win?" his opponent asked, squinting at him. "I bet we all can! Come on, Exiles!"

  With that, most of them rushed Grivvin, swinging a variety of weapons. This was a different story with multiple attackers viciously flailing arms and legs at him. He parried three thrusts from a rusty sword and kicked the man square in the midsection, dropping him like a stone. A fist came out of nowhere and he shifted his body weight just in time for it to skim across his cheek harmlessly. Honestly, he did not want to kill any of them, he felt sorry for them instead. Attacking with such ferocity, they left him little choice.

  The leader rushed forward again, his sweeping blade passing just in front of Grivvin's chest as he jumped back. Grivvin quickly grabbed the lad's wrist, pulling it back to him while shoving his palm into his elbow with an audible snap. The boy let out a scream and stumbled away. Two men jumped in to take his place, one attempting to smash Grivvin's skull with a large club. Sidestepping, the club grazed his left shoulder and hit the ground harmlessly. This attack threw his assailant off-balance and Grivvin used the opportunity to bring the pommel of his knife down hard against the man's neck, rendering him limp and unconscious upon the street.

  The second man's fist smashed into Grivvin's right cheek, sending him spinning and casting his vision in a reddish hue. He turned to face him and through the blur, saw Lyrica come through the air, leg extended, her boot catching the man in the side of the head, knocking him to the ground.

  "Look out!" he shouted, seeing a hulking shape looming over her. Lyrica flipped her sword in her hand, the blade now facing backward and drove it into the man's abdomen. A horrible scream issued from the man as the metal pierced his stomach, and he fell to his knees as Lyrica pulled the sword free. He heard their leader cry out for retreat.

  "They've killed Durmok! Into the ruins, everyone! Get out of here!" he called and as Grivvin's vision cleared, he could see the last of them vanishing between buildings.

  Lyrica walked up to him, returning her sword to her belt and placed a hand on his face.

  "Doesn't look too bad. That guy had no power behind his punches," she remarked with a smile.

  Grivvin stared at the now-lifeless body of Durmok, his hunched body curled in on itself in the middle of the street, a dark pool of blood surrounding him. He frowned at the sight, regret creeping into his mind.

  "What's wrong? You don't feel sorry for him, do you? They all deserved it," Lyrica explained.

  "Oh, I know. There is no doubt about that. I...I've never seen anyone killed in front of me before, that's all."

  "Oh, right. I had forgotten. In the Under, it's a pretty common occurrence. I was nine when I saw my first murder. It was a bar fight outside of Drowned Souls. My father was performing there. Because of that event, it was the last time I was allowed to attend. Mother would never let me go again."

  She started walking along their path toward the west.

  "We're just going to leave him here?" Grivvin asked.

  "We have no choice," she called back. "Come on!"

  Grivvin stared at the body for a moment, sighed and ran off to join her. They walked for some time in silence, the sun finally peeking through the clouds for a moment and soon they could see the shimmer of Lake Embremere in the distance.

  "We're getting close," Grivvin said. "As soon as we leave this road, we head south and grab a boat."

  "I'm not sure how we are supposed to cross the Maelstrom without the Wychan rudder," Lyrica said. "Two of us on the oars? The smallest of whirlpools will pull us under. Hopefully, what's in the bag will help us along. What do you think it is anyway?"

  "I'm not sure. Another object imbued with Wychan magic perhaps? As you know, my father is quite the inventor. Perhaps it’s a potion allowing the boat to fly," Grivvin stated.

  “What? He can do that?” she asked in amazement.

  Grivvin laughed.

  “No, I don’t think so. Flight, I believe is beyond even Wychan capabilities.”

  She playfully punched him in the arm as they made their way out of the city.

   

   

   

   

   

  With his father’s directions, finding his hidden boats proved simple enough and they were soon standing in a grotto within the cliff wall. The cli
mb down was not easy, but they had made it to the water without mishap. There were five boats floating there, rocking with the waves and pieces of several others stacked along the rock wall where his father had been assembling them. A wooden box of tools and various other containers were collected in a depression in the stone shelf upon which they stood.

  They climbed inside what appeared to be the sturdiest of the boats and untied the rope that held it in place. Grabbing the oars, they rowed the craft from the shelter of the grotto, out into the open water, the grey cliff wall soaring high overhead and the rainfall instantly showering them with bitingly cold water. Many leagues out, they could just see the first of the stone spires that marked the beginning of the Maelstrom.

  “All right, Grivvin, let’s see what’s in the bag,” Lyrica said.

  He pulled the large sack on to his lap and unwound the leather strap that held it closed. He opened the mouth of the sack, reached in his hand and grasped a long wooden object of some sort. He pulled the bag off and dropped it into the bottom of the boat, while studying the object closely with his eyes. Lyrica moved up next to him, staring over his shoulder.

  “What is it?” she asked. The thing resembled a small, thin club with many holes all along the end roughly the size of a fingertip. “It looks like a flute or something.”

  “That’s what I was thinking, but there’s no mouthpiece, just the holes on one end. Wait, there’s a piece of parchment in the bag,” Grivvin said and pulled out the paper, reading it carefully.

  “Upon reaching the Maelstrom, place the object in the water and wait,” he read.

  “Uh, wait for what? He could’ve been a little clearer,” Lyrica said in confusion.

  “I don’t know. Let’s get to the Maelstrom and find out,” he answered.

  She grumbled, grabbed her oars and began rowing, punctuating each stroke with a curse.

  “Well, that’s not very lady-like.”

  “Oh, shut up,” she said in mock-anger.

   

   

   

   

   

  It took the better part of two hours to reach the first of the rocky formations that bordered the Maelstrom and by that time, they were exhausted, their hands and backs aching. They sat slumped, resting as they began to feel the familiar pull of the current on their vessel.

  "Well, let's give this thing a try," Grivvin said, removing the object from the sack submerging it below the surface. They both stared down at it, its image bending and twisting with the rippling waves. There was no visible change.

  "Why is it not working?" Lyrica asked, glancing to where the darkness of the first vortex could be seen, its pull slowly dragging them in.

  "I don't know," he said, leaning out to get a better look at the rod underwater. "If something doesn't happen soon, we'll end up at the bottom of the lake."

  He pulled the rod up, water dripping from its many holes, and examined it as Lyrica looked on. Frustrated, he shoved it back below the waves, his heartbeat quickening at the thought of navigating the whirlpools without magical assistance. Lyrica took her seat once more and grabbed hold of the oars.

  "Come on. Help me. That thing's not gonna work."

  He stared down at it, biting his lip. He trusted in his father. In anger, he shook the rod back and forth violently in the water.

  "Do something!" he shouted at the thing. Just then, bright beams of white light shot out from the rod, radiating in all directions below the boat. "Hey! Get over here!"

  Lyrica left her seat and jumped to his side. Her eyes grew large as she took in the bright spectacle that was taking place below. The light now resembled multicolored fingers, reaching and stretching as far as they could see. The waves became more pronounced suddenly, their boat beginning to rock uncontrollably and the force of the current growing immediately stronger.

  "The Maelstrom is pulling is faster, Grivvin. How does that help us? Is that what that thing does, hurl us forward to our watery graves?" she asked, returning to the oars.

  This time, Grivvin did not argue. Instead, he threw the rod to the bottom of the boat, took his own seat and began to row away from the current. It was no use. The vortex was far too strong and after several minutes of struggling against it, they surrendered to its pull.

  "We're dead," he announced throwing his hands in the air. "It's just my luck, the one time that my father's inventions fail, we happen to be on the verge of death."

  Lyrica pulled her oars in and settled them on the floor of the boat, a look of dread on her face. There would be no way to escape the whirlpool this time. Theirs was simply a boat and with no Wychan items, they were doomed. She joined Grivvin at his seat and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. He held her close, his mind racing, trying to formulate an escape, but there was none. For the first time, Lyrica allowed herself to show weakness and began to weep softly upon his chest.

  I can't let it end like this. There are no charms that I know that can save us from this. I have yet to master levitation. I could never muster the strength needed to push the boat forward without a crystal and only a master could control the water itself.

  He felt the bow dip as the whirlpool took them and they began their slow, circular journey toward the growling black center. Waiting for the inevitable was agonizing. He held his breath as their craft settled into its tilted position.

  Wait. That's it!

  "Lyrica, I can do this!" he shouted. "The charm of water-breathing! I can use the power from the soil...no, that works on a single person. Well, good enough. I'll cast it on you. Save yourself."

  "What?" she argued. "Save myself and let you drown? Are you insane? You think I could live with that decision?"

  "I want to do this! If only one of us can live, I want it to be you," he said, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her close. He kissed her hard on the lips and then pulled back, his eyes intense. "We don't have much time. You can still make it if I cast the charm now."

  "Grivvin, no..."

  "Please!" he shouted over the increasing roar of the vortex.

  She lowered her head, sobbing.

  "I won't let you do it," she said. "The price is too-"

  Something hit the bottom of the boat and it seemed to suddenly move contrary to the pull of the vortex, throwing them to the floor.

  "What was that?" Grivvin asked. pulling himself up. He peered over the side and could see the surface of the water receding from them as the boat became airborne. Turning to look behind them, he saw the sleek, serpentine body of a water dragon below them, its long neck rising up to meet them. The boat now rested upon its head as they began to move out of the whirlpool.

  "Grivvin!" Lyrica screamed as she also made the realization.

  They rose far into the air, nearly as high as the rock formations that stood there and began to slowly move forward, the boat rocking slightly upon the great beast's skull. Behind, they could see the massive grey-blue flippers powering them onward, the long tail undulating just below the surface. Their speed increased and they passed through another large vortex with little resistance.

  "Wha-? Is it helping us?" Lyrica asked, moving to the side of the vessel and peering down. "Grivvin, I think the dragon is helping us through the Maelstrom!"

  Grivvin nodded with a smile.

  "You're right. My father's invention called it. That has to be it. We signaled and it came," he said with pride.

  "Just as it wouldn't harm you when it smelled your blood in the water. They were created by your kind after all."

  They traveled amazingly fast through the countless whirlpools, weaving between the giant stones that stood there, the light rain pelting their faces. In no time, the creature slowed to a halt, lowering them once more to the surface of the lake. Off the starboard side, the creature's gargantuan head rose from the depths and regarded them with an expression of extreme wisdom. Grivvin raised a hand of gratitude to the dragon.

  "Thank you, friend!" he shouted and it slipped q
uickly beneath the water and was gone. Lyrica stared at Grivvin, her mouth hanging open in astonishment.

  "I cannot believe that just happened," she muttered. "I thought we were dead back there and now rescued by one of the water dragons. I'm still in shock."

  Not far away, the platform of Embremere loomed above, and below it the shadowy realm of The Under. They grabbed their oars and set off, their moods much brighter and optimistic, having lived through the Maelstrom. An hour passed and they docked at the nearest pier, struggling with rubbery legs to climb out of the boat. They found the nearest eating establishment and satisfied their hunger, all the while being watched suspiciously by the other patrons seated there.

  Finally, a serving girl approached them, refilling their cups with ale.

  "The Cuda came in yesterday looking for you two. They offered a reward to anyone that would turn you in. Tore the back room up real good, threatened the owner and his wife. I suggest you finish your meal and get on the move as soon as possible," she said with a tense smile.

  "We appreciate the warning," Grivvin said with a nod. His eyes went to the other customers and he checked his knife, preparing himself.

  “They’ll be on us in no time, Grivvin. They know our scent. If they know that we’ve left the Under, they’ll be waiting somewhere near the outskirts for us to return,” Lyrica explained, standing up from the table. Together, they made for the doorway, feeling the heat of the other’s eyes on their backs.

  “Why are we so important to them?” Grivvin asked as they headed down the pier toward their waiting boat.

  “I think it’s you that they want. You stood up to them, Grivvin. No one does that around here. And, of course, I was seen with you, fought by your side, so I’m next on the list.”

  “Sorry about that,” he said as they passed through a dark, narrow alleyway.

  “No need to apologize. This whole adventure was my idea, wasn’t it? I just had to have what’s at the bottom of the lake. Guess I’m greedy. Taking some of the metal from that chain will mean that my friends and family will no longer have to struggle.”

  They rounded a corner, stepping out onto the edge of the pier and pulled up short, backing once again into the shadows. There were three of the Cuda searching their boat, their noses held low, sniffing. These were obviously examples of the more-evolved Cuda, for he heard the rattling and guttural voice of one them addressing the others.

  “It is them. They are here and they arrived very recently by the smell of it,” the smallest of them said, grey and black skin glistening in the dim light.

  “Modmargen wants them dead and what Modmargen wants, he gets,” hissed another, the long gills twitching at his sides. “We’ll comb this neighborhood once more. I know they’re here.”

  Together, they slipped off the side of the boat and vanished below the surface of the lake.

  “We’ll have to find another way back home. I guarantee they have eyes on that boat now,” Lyrica explained, staring at the platform of Embremere above. “It’s a shame we don’t have those Wychan children with us. Now would be a good time to use their secret passages to The Over.”