Windwalker - Elaine Cunningham [17]
Well, there was no help for it. Fyodor had pledged to return the Windwalker to the witches of Rashemen. Liriel had promised to accompany him. It was an impulsive decision that she had questioned many times during their westward voyage, but Fyodor had steadfastly assured that she-a drow and a wizard-would be accepted in a land that hated both. Before they faced that particular battle, they would have to survive a journey that spanned hundreds of miles inhabited by surface dwellers who had reason to fear and hate dark elves. Considering the larger picture, what was one elf-hating sailor?
A subtle movement caught the drow's attention-a slender blue hand edging over the rail. Liriel watched in fascination as a peculiar creature slid soundlessly onto the ship. Elflike in feature and lavishly female in form, she was nonetheless as alien as any creature Liriel had ever beheld.
The newcomer's skin shimmered with tiny aqua scales, and her long, silvery blue hair undulated as if in a gentle current. She wore ropes of pearls and a short, wet, clinging gown. Liriel's sharp eyes noted the weapon sheathes cleverly hidden among the wet folds. Her native curiosity, however, was stronger than her impulse to shout an alarm.
Liriel watched as the creature's blue-green eyes scanned the ship, settled upon the man at the wheel, and took on a predatory gleam. She started toward Ibn purposefully.
The drow elbowed Fyodor and nodded toward the creature. "A water genasi," she said, speaking just above a whisper. "I've never actually seen one before. Drow keep trying to breed them. You don't want to know what we get instead."
"Is she a friend?" Fyodor asked, eying the beautiful creature uncertainly.
"That depends. Does your social circle usually include other-planer half breeds?"
Fyodor, his gaze intent on the genasi, let that pass. "She's after the captain," he said, noting the creature's approach on the unwitting Ibn. He placed one hand on his sword hilt and started forward.
His determined stride faltered after a pace or two, and he stood watching the genasi with fascination. Several other men left off their chores and drifted closer. Their wonder-struck eyes drank in the beautiful blue face. Several of them darted envious, even murderous, glances at the unsuspecting Ibn.
A charm spell, Liriel surmised, eyeing the blue female with new respect. For a moment she was tempted to let the genasi's enchantment run its course. Liriel's people had a thousand ways to weed out the foolish and the weak, and the ship would probably be the better for a cleansing battle. That accomplished, she could subdue the blue wench and restore order-and, not incidentally, put a more congenial captain in Ibn's place.
As she settled back to enjoy the show, a small voice in the back of her mind inquired, Yes, but what would Fyodor think of this plan?
Irritation swept through her. Such intrusions on her drow practicality were becoming annoyingly frequent.
"At the moment, he's not thinking at all," she muttered. "At least, not with anything that lies between his ears."
Fyodor, the voice said implacably. Honor.
The drow hissed in exasperation then gave way with an ungracious shrug.
"Hoy, Ibn! Who's your lady friend?" she sang out, pointing. "Nice legs. Too bad about her choice in men."
The captain's head whipped toward the genasi. He let out a yelp of outrage-proving, no surprise to Liriel, that his bigotry was stronger than the genasi's magic.
"Another damn sea elf! Git off my ship, you long-eared fish!"
Astonishment froze the genasi in mid-slink, and fury twisted her azure face.
"Now you've done it," Liriel murmured happily. According to drow lore books, a sure way to infuriate any genasi was to mistake it for a "lesser creature."
A sly smile curved the drow's lips. There would be no avoiding battle now!
The genasi threw