“This way,” said Solon, indicating a rear door into the sterncastle, leading down to the lower decks. They held tight to soaking rope handrails as they climbed down slippery wooden steps in the narrow companionway.
At the bottom of the steps, Jazhara lit a torch, since the interior of the ship was as dark as night. The flickering light threw the scene into stark relief, and shadows danced upon the walls as they walked. The water was slow in draining from the lower decks and the hold, so they found themselves wading through knee-deep brine.
“That way,” said Solon, pointing to a rear door.
Halfway across the deck, Kendaric let out a yelp.
“What?” asked James, drawing his sword.
“Something brushed against my leg!”
James let out a long, exasperated breath. “Fish. Fish swim in the ocean.”
Kendaric looked unconvinced. “There could be a monster lurking down here.”
James shook his head and said nothing.
They reached the door and found it jammed shut. James examined it. “Someone broke this lock, but the flow of water must have closed it again, and now it’s totally jammed into place. Better break it off its hinges.”
Solon used his hammer on the hinges, knocking them loose, and the door exploded outward with a sheet of water. Dead bodies were swept along as the water in the two compartments equalized. Solon looked down at one corpse that floated at his feet. Flesh was rotting off the bones, and signs of fish having feasted on the face were obvious. The eye sockets were empty.
“Good and faithful servant of Ishap,” Solon said with respect. Then he saw something and reached down. He pulled a large warhammer from the corpse’s belt and declared, “The Warhammer of Luc d’Orbain! It once belonged to an Ishapian saint from Bas-Tyra. It’s a relic treasured by the Temple and awarded as a mark of service to my order’s leader. It’s a magic talisman of great power. Not a bad weapon, either.” He looked down at the corpse again. “That was Brother Michael of Salador.” He shook his head regretfully. “It would be logical that he would personally lead the group protecting the Tear.”
“Well, bring it along,” said James, “but let’s find the Tear and get off this ship before it goes down again.”
“That way,” said Solon. He indicated a passageway to a rear cargo hold.
When they reached the next door, Solon said, “Wait.” He reached into his tunic and pulled out a tiny chain from which hung a small blue gem. The gem glowed faintly. “The Tear of the Gods is near.”
“What is that?” asked James.
“A shard from the old Tear. It was given me by the High Priest to help us locate the Tear if it had been removed from the ship.”
James reached for the door-latch and again Solon said, “Wait!”
“What is it now?” asked James.
“There is a ward around the Tear. If Bear or one of his men got too close to the Tear before the ship sank, it may have been triggered.”
“And this ward does what?” asked James, obviously irritated at hearing this at the last possible minute.
“The soul of a . . . dragon was captured and confined. It manifests itself and will attack whoever comes close to the Tear if certain rituals are not observed.”
“You were going to tell us this sooner or later, right?” asked James, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Until we found the Tear there was no reason, Squire. Look, the beast is mindless and will attack any of us if it’s been released.”
“How can a dragon fit in that cargo hold?” asked Kendaric wonderingly. “They’re really big, right?”
“It’s not a dragon, but the spirit of one. A ghost, if you will.”
“Nothing you’re saying is making me any happier, Solon,” James observed. “Why don’t you tell us something good?”
“I have the ritual to banish the creature and return it to the spirit realm.”
“That’s good,” said James.
“But it’ll take time.”
“And that’s not good,” said James. “Let me guess: the dragon will attack us while you’re trying to banish it.”
“Yes.”
“And the ship might sink while we’re fighting the dragon while you’re trying to banish it.”
Kendaric said, “Yes.”
James said, “This has not been a good day, and it just keeps getting worse.” Grabbing the door-latch, he said, “So, let’s get this over with.”
He flung open the door to reveal a room bare of any furnishings save a single table.
“This is the captain’s cabin,” said James. “He must have turned it over to the temple and slept elsewhere.”
“And that’s the Tear,” said Solon.
A single large box, carved with the image of a dragon, sat atop the table. It glowed with a mystic blue light and even James could feel the magic emanating from it.
A flickering of light around the box was the only warning they had. Suddenly a gust of wind swept through the cabin. An invisible blow struck Kendaric, knocking him off his feet into the ankle-deep water.