Amber and Blood - Margaret Weis [31]
But now all that remained of Nuitari’s ingenious aquatic strongbox were mounds of wet sand glittering with shards of broken glass.
The tower’s upheaval had shattered the globe. The sea water had poured out, carrying the sea monsters with it. Midori, rudely awakened by the shock, had apparently decided enough was enough and gone off to find more stable housing. The destruction stretched as far as the eye could see.
“No! Atta, stop!” Nightshade cried, grabbing the dog by the scruff of her neck as she started to venture out onto the sand. “You’ll cut your paws to ribbons! Where’s the Feeble Soloness?” he asked Mina.
She pointed silently and unhappily into the midst of the wreckage.
“Oh, well. I guess we can’t go there,” Nightshade said cheerfully. “Say, I have an idea. Let’s sail to Flotsam. I know an inn that serves beefsteak and crispy potatoes with a side of green peas and—”
“Nightshade,” Rhys admonished.
“I didn’t ask her for it!” the kender said in a defensive whisper. “I just happened to mention beef steak in case she was hungry.”
“It was all so beautiful,” said Mina, and she began to cry.
Basalt stood staring glumly at the mess.
“I don’t care what the Master says,” the dwarf stated. “I’m not cleaning this up.” He heard a snicker from Caele and glowered. “What are you looking so damn pleased about? This is a disaster!”
“Not for us,” Caele said, with a sly grin.
Seeing that the monk was occupied with the sniveling brat, Caele crept back quietly back up the stairs, motioning Basalt to come with him. When they were out of earshot of the others, Caele whispered, “Don’t you realize what this means? The dragon’s gone! The Hall of Sacrilege is no longer guarded! Our fortunes are made!”
“If the Hall’s still there,” Basalt returned. “And if it’s still intact, which I doubt.” He gestured at the debris. “And how do you plan to reach it? The dragon might as well be here. Those glass shards are sharper than her teeth and just as deadly.”
“If the Hall survived the Cataclysm, it certainly survived this. You’ll see. As for reaching it, I have an idea on that.”
“What about Mina and her friends?” Basalt asked.
Caele grinned. Sliding up his sleeve, he revealed a knife attached to his wrist.
Basalt snorted. “Remember what happened the last time you tried to gut her? You ended up a prisoner in your own tomb!”
“She had that bastard Chemosh with her,” Caele said, scowling. “This time, all she’s got is a monk and a kender. You kill those two and I’ll—”
“Leave me out of this!” Basalt snarled. “I’ve had enough of your plots and schemes. They only ever get me into trouble!”
Caele paled in anger. A flick of the wrist and the knife was in his hand. Basalt was prepared, however. He had always assumed some day he would end up killing the half-elf and this day was as good as any. He began to chant a spell. Caele chanted a counter-spell. The two glared blackly at each other.
Mina was staring in bleak amazement at the ruins of the crystal globe. “I wanted to swim in the sea water again. I wanted to talk to the dragon …”
“I’m sorry, Mina,” said Rhys, not knowing what else to say to her.
He had his own worries. If the Solio Febalas was truly in the midst of the debris, he should find it, make certain it was safe, the contents secure. He could hear the two Black Robe wizards plotting and though he could not make out their words, he had no doubt that they were making plans to steal the sacred artifacts.
If he had been alone, Rhys would have gladly risked his own life trying to find a way through the broken glass, but he could not venture forth and leave his friends and his dog behind, not with the Beloved massing outside the tower, being held at bay by the gods alone knew what force. Nor did he trust the two Black Robes.
Rhys’s main concern was Mina. As a god, she could have walked across acres of razor blades without being harmed. But she was a god who did not know she was a god. She shivered from the cold, cried when disappointed, and bled when nails scratched her flesh. He