Dragons of Spring Dawning - Margaret Weis [19]
“When she was gone,” Tanis continued, his voice soft and filled with pain, “I lay in her bed and I hated myself. You may hate me now, but you cannot hate me as much as I loathe and despise what I have become! I thought of Laurana and—”
Tanis fell silent, raising his head. Even as he talked, he had become aware of the motion of the ship changing. The rest glanced around, too. It did not take an experienced seaman to notice that they were no longer pitching around wildly. Now they were running in a smooth forward motion, a motion somehow more ominous because it was so unnatural. Before anyone could wonder what it meant, a crashing knock nearly split the cabin door.
“Maquesta she say get up here!” shouted Koraf hoarsely.
Tanis cast one swift glance around at his friends. Riverwind’s face was dark; his eyes met Tanis’s and held them, but there was no light in them. The Plainsman had long distrusted all who were not human. Only after weeks of danger faced together had he come to love and trust Tanis as a brother. Had all that been shattered? Tanis looked at him steadily. Riverwind lowered his gaze and, without a word, started to walk past Tanis, then he stopped.
“You are right, my friend,” he said, glancing at Goldmoon who was rising to her feet. “I have loved.” Without another word, he turned abruptly and went up on deck.
Goldmoon gazed mutely as Tanis as she followed her husband, and he saw compassion and understanding in that silent look. He wished he understood, that he could be so forgiving.
Caramon hesitated, then walked past him without speaking or looking at him. Raistlin followed silently, his head turning, keeping his golden eyes on Tanis every step of the way. Was there a hint of glee in those golden eyes? Long mistrusted by the others, was Raistlin happy to have company in ignominy at last? The half-elf had no idea what the mage might be thinking. Then Tika went past him, giving him a gentle pat on the arm. She knew what it was to love.…
Tanis stood a moment alone in the cabin, lost in his own darkness. Then, with a sigh, he followed his friends.
As soon as he set foot on the deck, Tanis realized what had happened. The others were staring over the side, their faces pale and strained. Maquesta paced the foredeck, shaking her head and swearing fluently in her own language.
Hearing Tanis approach, she looked up, hatred in her black flashing eyes.
“You have destroyed us,” she said venomously. “You and the god-cursed helmsman!”
Maquesta’s words seemed redundant, a repetition of words resounding in his own mind. Tanis began to wonder if she had even spoken, or if it was himself he was hearing.
“We are caught in the maelstrom.”
4
“My brother …”
T he Perechon hurtled forward, skimming along on top of the water as lightly as a bird. But it was a bird with its wings clipped, riding the swirling tide of a watery cyclone into a blood-red darkness.
The terrible force pulled the sea waters smooth, until they looked like painted glass. A hollow, eternal roar swelled from the black depths. Even the storm clouds circled endlessly above it, as if all nature were caught in the maelstrom, hurtling to its own destruction.
Tanis gripped the rail with hands that ached from the tension. Staring into the dark heart of the whirlpool, he felt no fear, no terror, only a strange numb sensation. It didn’t matter anymore. Death would be swift and welcome.
Everyone on board the doomed ship stood silently, their eyes wide with the horror of what they saw.