The Sea Devil's Eye - Mel Odom [16]
"It's a powerful piece," Iakhovas said.
"It guides us, lord. Place this trinket into a bowl of water and it floats like a lodestone seeking the north."
"The weapon," Iakhovas said, "lies on the Whamite Isles."
Surprise gleamed in the pirate captain's eyes. "You know this?"
"Yes."
Vurgrom laughed and-said, "I should have come to you, lord, instead of paying the diviner."
"You took two days' travel from my schedule," Iakhovas said in a hard voice. "If it weren't for the wind that pushes you now, you wouldn't make your assigned destination on time."
With a shrug, Vurgrom said, "I've been fortunate."
Iakhovas held a hand up. The wind died suddenly and the sails hung limply from the lanyards. Laaqueel shifted her footing. The ship felt as though it had become mired in mud.
"It was more than fortune's good graces," Iakhovas said. "I am seeing to it that you arrive on time in spite of your bad decisions."
Iakhovas clenched his raised hand into a fist. The blast of wind that hit the ship staggered it, almost rolled it over on the cresting wave. The sails popped and cracked, sounding as if they were going to be ripped free. Some of the ship's crew went rolling across the deck, unable to balance themselves quickly enough. At least three men went over the side, screaming until they hit the water. The ship sailed on, having no way to come around for those overboard.
Iakhovas stood as if rooted to the pitching deck.
Vurgrom grabbed the rearmost mast only a few feet away, unable to maintain his stance. He roared and knocked away other pirates nearby. The ship continued to pitch and twist.
"You're going to tear her apart!" the captain shouted.
"The ship will hold," Iakhovas declared. "I won't allow you to be late, Captain Vurgrom."
"I won't be late, my lord." Vurgrom had to yell to make himself heard over the gale force winds. "I won't be late."
"See to it then," Iakhovas threatened. "If you are late, Vurgrom, after everything I've invested in you, you won't 1)6' at all."
He gestured and the golden orb in his eye flared. The world seemed to ripple at his side, like a pool disturbed by a tossed pebble. He stuck his arm into the ripples and it disappeared up to the elbow.
The pirates looked on in superstitious awe. Magic was known to them, of course, but not so familiar. Many of them, Laaqueel knew, had seen more this day than they would in their whole lives.
"Get this weapon if you want, Vurgrom," Iakhovas said, "but I'll want it when you do. You belong to me until such a time as I release you."
Vurgrom held tight to the mast and said nothing.
Iakhovas held out a hand to Laaqueel. The malenti priestess was barely able to maintain her own stance as the ship pitched again and the canvas cracked overhead. Even during her spying days, she'd hated ships. She reached for Iakhovas and felt him take her hand. Her balance steadied at once and she stepped through the gate back into the captain's quarters aboard Tarjana.
"I sense conflict within you, little malenti," Iakhovas said flatly.
He moved behind the table again and resumed his seat. The king of the sahuagin studied her with his one good eye and the golden one, and the malenti priestess felt as though he could see her clearly with both.
"When we arrived here and you saw that things were as I promised regarding the imprisonment of the Serosian sahuagin, your faith seemed to return to you, stronger than before. Now I feel that you are questioning yourself again."
"Faith," she replied, "lies in the ability to answer those questions."
"You are my senior high priestess, and you serve the will of Sekolah. There should be no questions."
"I am weak." The admission was as much to herself as to him.
"I need you strong."
"I will be," she promised. "Have I ever failed you? I returned from the dead at your call."
Not so many days ago in Coryselmal while searching for the talisman Iakhovas had used to sunder the Sharksbane Wall, Laaqueel was certain she'd died at the hands of a vodyanoi, or come as close to it as the living could without fully crossing