An image formed in the air, a floating dragon made up of faint golden mist. Solon shouted, “Keep it away from me, else I won’t be able to banish it!”
James waved his sword, attempting to distract the creature, while Jazhara kept her eye on Kendaric to make sure he didn’t drown. Then she raised her staff, holding it high above her head with both hands, and started a spell.
The dragon turned its attention to James. Its spectral head darted forward. James felt the air pressure build before the creature’s snout, and he rolled his head back with the blow. The punch was still significant. He let out an “oof” of pain while trying to draw the creature away from Solon.
Glancing at the monk, he saw that he brandished the Hammer of Luc d’Orbain before him, his eyes closed and lips moving furiously in ritual incantations.
Jazhara finished her casting and a sheet of crimson energy erupted into the air. It flowed across the ceiling of the cabin and then fell upon the dragon, encasing it in a ruby net. The creature thrashed and attempted to attack Jazhara, but it was bound in the netting.
“How long will that hold?” James asked.
“I don’t know,” said Jazhara. “I’ve never done this before.”
“How’s Kendaric?”
“Unconscious, but he’ll live, I think.”
The wrecker sat slumped against the bulkhead, chin on chest, as if asleep.
James said, “Glad to hear it. That thing hits like a mule kicks.”
They turned toward Solon as his voice rose, obviously nearing the end of his incantation. They watched in amazement as the golden dragon expanded, seeming to stretch the ruby netting to its breaking point. As the final words of Solon’s prayer rang through the cabin, the dragon began to shrink till it was a mere golden pinpoint of light that winked out before their eyes.
Suddenly the netting was empty and floated down to the water where it vanished.
“It’s done,” Solon pronounced.
“Good,” said James. “Now let’s rescue that damn box and get off this ship before things get any worse!”
Solon nodded, hung the second warhammer on his belt, and gently picked up the box containing the Tear of the Gods. James and Jazhara grabbed Kendaric by the arms and lifted him. He started to rouse as they moved him. “What?” he mumbled.
“Come on,” said James. “Time to go home.”
Kendaric said, “Best thing I’ve heard in days.” He took his arms off their shoulders and said, “I can walk.”
They scrambled up the slippery companionway, Solon having to hand up the box with the Tear in it to James, then reclaiming it when they were on deck. James, Jazhara, and Kendaric went down ropes into the mystic fog and then Solon tossed the box down to James, and followed.
They hurried along the fog as night fell. Just as they were nearing the rocky point, James said, “Damn.”
“What?” asked Kendaric.
“Armed men, on the beach.”
“The escaped prisoners?” asked Jazhara.
“I don’t think so,” James answered. “Look!”
Coming down a path from the hills above they could see a massive figure, a dark silhouette. But from his chest a red glow emanated.
“Bear!” said James.
“This fog is starting to weaken,” said Solon, and even as he spoke, James felt his feet sinking a bit.
They hurried the last dozen yards to the rocks and walked toward the beach. “Do we have any choices?” asked James.
Solon said, “None. We must fight.”
From the gloom of the rocks, Bear’s voice boomed: “Your choices are few and my patience grows short. You will give me the Tear, or we will slaughter you.”
“Why do you seek the Tear?” asked Jazhara. “What use can it be to you?”
They stopped where the rocks met the sand, and Bear’s men approached, their weapons drawn.
“Ha!” said the huge man. “Hasn’t the monk told you? The Tear allows us to talk to gods, doesn’t it, Ishapian? And there are other gods besides Ishap!”
Solon shouted, “You are a fool not to fear the power of Ishap!”
“I’ve got all I need to take care of you . . . Ishapians!” said Bear, fingering the amulet around his neck. “You can never touch me.” He drew a large sword. “But I can touch you! Now, give me the Tear!”
Suddenly from the rocks above him a figure emerged, crouched and leapt. William hurled himself into Bear, knocking the giant man over.
The surprise of the ambush shocked everyone. The mercenary closest to James turned away toward the commotion, and James took advantage of the opening to pull his sword and plunge it into the man’s back. The man died before he could even turn to face James.
Solon set the box containing the Tear on the sand and pulled out the Warhammer of Luc d’Orbain, silently mouthing a prayer to Ishap.
Jazhara lowered her staff, pointed the end of it at a cluster of Bear’s men and let loose a bolt of energy.
Kendaric drew his sword. “I’ll guard the Tear!” he cried.