The Ring of Winter - James Lowder [30]
The shrieks of the sailors closest to The starboard rail replaced their victory cry. The steam poured into the ballista ports, searing the skin off the men caught in its wake. In a few places, ropes sizzled and broke. A yardarm, suddenly cut free, fell to the deck and crushed a midshipman. Skuld shielded Artus and Pontifax from the blast, then disappeared into the medallion. From the rail, Artus stared out at the churning, bloody sea, waiting for the turtle's return. Pontifax, his back to his friend, looked out over the carnage on the quarter deck. "I'd better see if I can help anyone down there," the mage said.
Artus turned and came face-to-face with Quiracus. The elf slapped the piece of parchment he'd been carrying earlier over the medallion, then lashed out at Artus with a right hook. The blow landed on the explorer's jaw, sending him backward over the rail.
No silver hand emerged from the medallion to save Artus from this fall. Only his own quick reflexes stopped him from plummeting into the sea. He gripped the edge of the rail with one hand, his fingernails digging furrows into the wood as he slid. Quiracus reached out, intent on loosening that tenuous grip, but Pontifax tackled him. The mage easily bowled the slender elf off his feet, then hurried to help Artus. Puffing at the exertion, he pulled the explorer back onto the deck.
"Where did he go?" Artus snouted.
"I don't know," Pontifax said. "But we'll find him sooner or later. Not many places to hide on a ship."
Artus slumped back against the rail, then lifted the medallion.The silver disk was completely hidden by a thick layer of hardened white paste.
"I saw Quiracus hit the medallion with that parchment," Pontifax said. "It looks like some sort of magical damper. Unless we can find a way to get it off, I don't think we'll be seeing Skuld again for a while."
Artus looked at the medallion, then dropped it back onto his chest. "Good thing we're just a couple days out of Refuge Bay. Whoever is trying to kill me knew enough to getSkuld out of the way first."
Concern filled Pontifax's eyes. "What makes you think they'll stop once we get to Chult?"
* * * * *
"Here, let me quote a bit for you: ‘I have discovered that the Cult of Frost is led by that blackguard Kaverin Ebonhand.’" The man chuckled. "So I'm a blackguard, am I? How perfectly melodramatic."
Quiracus dropped to his knees in the center of an intricately woven Turmish carpet. It was as expensive and as gaudy as the rest of the trappings in Captain Bawr's cabin. "Please, you've got to hide me. Cimber will kill me if he finds me."
Kaverin closed the small book bound in wyvern hide. "I am wondering, my fine elf, whether you have served me well enough to merit sheltering." He tapped one finger on the book. Like the rest of his hand, the digit was solid jet-black stone, though it moved like one of flesh and blood. "True, you recovered this lovely volume from my vaunted foe. The book, in turn, will tell me everything Cimber knows about our mutual grail. And you did neutralize the guardian of the medallion for us by slapping that parchment over it."
He paused and bowed to the mousy woman sitting in the corner of the cabin. "Plaudits to you, my dear Phyrra, for that wonderfully simple magical damper. The guardian never knew what hit him, as the saying goes." A frown tugged at the corners of Kaverin's mouth. "Sadly, Cimber does know what-or more precisely who-hit him. Since you could not kill the blithering dolt, he can identify you as his would-be assassin. That is really quite troublesome, Quiracus."
With one jet finger, Kaverin gestured to the creature crouched atop a lacquered cabinet next to the door. The thing resembled a small albino monkey, though it sported large bat's wings and the talons of an eagle. It swooped across the room and landed on its master's shoulder, then began to fan him gently with its leathery wings.
"This heat is almost unbearable," Kaverin sighed. He wiped the sweat from his brow and from inside the collar of his loose-fitting white