The Yellow Silk - Don Bassingthwaite [111]
–a smile that slipped a bit as another voice joined their song. A deep and powerful voice, soft but cold, a chilling susurration. The shiver in him turned to a shudder. He glanced up at Veseene. Her face glowed with exaltation and confidence. And control. Whatever this new voice was, she had called it. He swallowed his fear and played.
Old Veseene's singing was amazing. Lander had frozen, listening in wonder, as soon as her voice took flight. And he had laughed at her weakness the previous night? If he got out of this, he was going to be making some deep, deep apologies!
Brin was still raging at the wood and thatch that trapped them, barely aware, it seemed, of Veseene's music. Li Chien and Yu Mao had taken their fight to the roof and Brin seemed determined to join them. Lander could hear the sound of swords from high above, but there was nothing to see.
Other figures were stirring out in the gathering shadows, though. Lander's teeth ground together as he peered through the ragged gap in the thatch. Hanibaz and Mosi were finally shaking off the effects of whatever magic Veseene-it could only have been Veseene-had blasted them with. Hanibaz had his wand out. Lander felt an urge to shout out to Veseene and Tycho, to warn them. The two bards seemed completely caught up in their music and entirely unaware of the recovering wizards.
But Hanibaz hopped suddenly from one foot to the other, looking at the ground and cursing. Mosi looked down, too, and hissed audibly. The veil of flames around him winked out. Lander sat forward, peering through the gap and trying to see whatever it was they saw.
His knees came down in a pool of ice-cold water. He gasped and rocked back again. Outside, Mosi called out a word and bright light flared.
It flashed across dark water. Rapidly rising dark water. Lander's knees weren't the only things wet now. The water was rising in the collapsed shelter as surely as it was outside. "Brin!"
The ranting halfling was standing on a sloping board. He turned around and slipped, hitting the water with a solid splash-and a scream so loud the water might have been boiling! He leaped for Lander. "It's the sea!" he shrieked "The sea is rising! Get us out!"
This time there was no point in protesting. Whatever dangers there might be outside, they were preferable to drowning in a pigsty! Lander sloshed around in the water-it had filled a third of their little space in just moments-getting his legs under himself and bracing his arms against the fallen roof. He heaved. It didn't budge.
"Harder!" shouted Brin. He was back on his sloping board, huddled desperately as high above the water as he could get without clinging to the roof itself. His eye was wild. Lander glared at him.
"You could help!"
Brin hissed like a wet cat and whipped a nasty little knife out of his belt. "Lift!" he spat. "Or you won't have to worry about drowning!"
Lander stared at the knife, then at the wild-eyed halfling, and heaved again, straining with all his strength.
Icy water soaked into his wounded hip. His leg spasmed. He went over, slipping under the water. He righted himself hastily, shaking water out of his hair, and thrust as hard as he could against the roof. The water was at his belly now. "Wait," Brin said desperately, "it's wood, right? Wood will float, won't it? You'll be able to lift it then."
"It's thatch over the wood," growled Lander. "When it's wet, it's heavier!"
Brin wailed. Lander cursed as he slammed his shoulder against the roof. The water was at his chest-his shoulders. It clamped him in cold. Through the narrow gap, he could see pigs struggling in the water. Terrified squeals and shrieks echoed around Veseene's song. Brin wailed louder with each one. "Be quiet!" Lander yelled finally. "Be quiet!" There was another sound in the air- the alarmed shouts of men. Who…? Lander bent down and peered through the