The Shadowmask: Stone of Tymora, Book II Read online

  I crept up to the inn’s door. It stood slightly ajar, and flickering light and plenty of raucous noise came out of it. I glanced behind me. The street looked abandoned, so I peered through the door’s crack without fear that someone outside would see me.

  Three dozen men and women, one dwarf, and one female halfling stood or sat within. They each held a mug of frothy ale—several people held two. They sat in a semi-circle, all talking with each other, but staring at a figure in the middle. He sat there, his head down and obscured by a great wide-brimmed violet hat, his frame clothed in fine silk of royal purple. Nowhere in the inn did I see Joen. Had I just imagined her after all? The concern fled from me as soon as the figure in the center raised his head.

  His face was the blue of the southern seas, his hair the white of ocean spray. I had seen his face before, seen his cold eyes staring at me, felt his mighty grip as he pulled me beneath the water. My hand dropped to my dagger. I gripped the edge of the door tighter, but still I did not dare enter.

  “Greetings,” the blue pirate said, his voice sweet yet flat. “I am Captain Chrysaor, and you all are now my crew.” A murmur went up through the crowd. I blinked. That was highly unusual. It was the crew’s choice to sign on with the captain, not the other way around.

  Chrysaor held up his hands, signaling for the murmur to die down, then continued. “That you have shown up here tells me you seek gainful employ. And I promise you, in my employ you shall find only the greatest gain.”

  “What sort of gain?” someone from the crowd called out. By the rough voice, I thought it must’ve been the dwarf, but then again all those people were pirates, so I couldn’t be sure.

  “Gold and silver, gems and jewels. A veritable dragon’s hoard.” Chrysaor replied. “A fortune to be split evenly among all of you. I won’t even be taking a share; I want only one artifact from the entire take.”

  Each person inside apparently decided that was his cue to strike up conversation. The noise level went from a patient silence to a deafening roar instantly.

  But I still heard the whisper in my ear with perfect clarity. I felt the sharp edge of the dagger resting against the side of my neck.

  “You should not have come here,” Joen whispered. She placed her strong hand on my shoulder and pulled me around to face her. I smiled at her, my heart racing. But she did not take the dagger from my neck.

  I wanted to tell her everything, everything I’d been through up until the moment that I saw her on the docks. But I couldn’t push the words past the lump in my throat. So I settled for a simple question: “Why are you here?”

  “You heard him. Gainful employ.”

  “But you’re a sailor, not a pirate.” I felt foolish even as the words left my mouth.

  She scoffed. “I was a sailor, before my ship was taken by pirates,” she said. Her voice was full of venom, full of accusation. “And what makes you think this is a pirate crew?”

  “Because the captain is a pirate. One who tried to kidnap me even.”

  She hesitated. “That isn’t true.”

  “Yes, it is,” said a voice from behind me—a deep voice, a strong voice, the voice of Chrysaor.

  Joen took her dagger from my neck. She stared over my shoulder with fear in her eyes. I turned to face my onetime assailant.

  The blue-skinned pirate smiled, the expression at once comfortable and out of place. “Though really, I wasn’t after you, child. You are of no consequence.” Chryasor said.

  “Then you wanted the stone,” I said.

  “What stone—” Joen began.

  I cut her off. “And you’re still after the stone, aren’t you?” I said. “That’s the artifact you want this crew to help you recover. You know where to find it, don’t you?”

  “You are very perceptive,” the blue man said. “But you shouldn’t tip your hand so easily. Your one advantage is knowledge your opponent does not possess.”

  My mind was swirling. “Where is the stone?” I cried.

  Chrysaor laughed, a bubbly laugh that reminded me, for some reason, of my childhood in the High Forest. “You don’t even know what you had, child, and so you do not deserve it. And so you have lost it, and so you will never recover it.” He jabbed my left shoulder and looked down at my leg. “And so you will die.”

  My hand again dropped to the hilt of my stiletto, but Chrysaor ignored me. He swung the inn’s door open wide and stepped inside.

  “So what do you think, friends?” he cried, raising his voice for the first time. Shall we set sail come springtime?” A great cheer went up within, followed by another.

  “Joen, I have to tell you something,” I whispered.

  She looked at me—glared at me. “You should not have come,” she said. She pushed past me into the inn, slamming the door behind her.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  By the time I returned to Sea Sprite, the snow had turned to rain, and my whole body—along with the whole city—was soaked through and chilled to the bone.

  Almost the entire crew was still hauling boxes and crates of cargo out of the hold. But no one was hauling anything belowdecks. I was somewhat surprised. We had been in port long enough that most of the stuff should have been offloaded. Most of the food and supplies should have been securely stowed within.

  I reached the wharf just as Drizzt and his friends trudged down the docks.

  “Ready to go?” he asked me.

  “Uh, I … I’m not sure.”

  He cocked his head. “I wasn’t aware you had much to pack,” he said. “Catti-brie and the others are gathering our supplies, and we plan to be off before nightfall today. Best you make ready quickly.”

  I paced up the dock, my heartbeat thudding in my ears, my head tumbling through all I had just seen. Joen. Chrysaor. Chrysaor was hunting the stone. I thought of the seer in Memnon and his prophecy. “He seeks what you seek … A stranger to these lands, of skin and manner.” I swallowed. Could it be?

  I turned back to face Drizzt. “I’m not coming with you,” I blurted out.

  Drizzt stared at me. “Give us a moment,” he said, addressing his companions.

  “Of course,” said Wulfgar. “We’ll see to securing some horses.” He walked past me, patting me on the head with his giant hand. Bruenor followed, muttering something about “durned fool kids.” Then Catti-brie wrapped me in a hug before skipping off after them.

  “So you’ve found a better course than Malchor Harpell?” Drizzt asked when the others had left.

  “I think I’ve found someone who knows where the stone is. And that’s why you were taking me to Malchor, isn’t it?”

  Drizzt’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure of your source?” he asked.

  “No,” I said, hanging my head. And then I spoke aloud the fear I had kept hidden for the past several tendays. “You have no way of knowing that Malchor has any insight into the stone and my troubles, do you?”

  Drizzt shook his head. “But I do know that my friends and I are willing to protect you on the journey, if you join us. Are you certain you wish to stay here and take this risk?”

  I shrugged. I could hardly admit my true motives even to myself right then. “It’s a risk either way,” I said.

  “It is indeed,” Drizzt said as he rested his hand on my shoulder. “My friend, I am saddened that you will not be joining us on the road. But I admire your bravery.”

  “So you think I should stay here?”

  “I think you have wisdom enough to decide for yourself,” Drizzt said. “And you did not approach me to ask my advice, did you? You approached me to say goodbye.”

  I nodded.

  “Then goodbye, and safe travels, Maimun. I hope you find everything you are looking for.” Drizzt offered me one last nod of assurance, then walked away.

  With a heavy heart, I turned back to face Sea Sprite. The captain stood at the bottom of the gangplank, shaking hands with a man in blue wizard robes. I reached them just as their conversation apparently ended.

  I recogn
ized the wizard: it was Robillard, the same wizard who had pulled me from the harbor in Memnon.

  “What are you doing here?” I blurted out before I realized I had spoken.

  “I have been hired by the Lords of Waterdeep,” he said. “To accompany a newly commissioned vessel to hunt pirates.”

  “But I thought you worked for the Memnon city guard.”

  “Waterdeep pays better,” Robillard said.

  “But … What vessel?” I asked.

  “Well, Captain Deudermont’s, obviously.” He shook his head in what I hoped was mock annoyance.

  “Enough,” Captain Deudermont cut in. “What are you doing here, Maimun? Drizzt and his friends have just left.” He gestured to the end of the dock. “You’ll have to hurry to catch him.”

  “I’m … I’m sorry, sir,” I stammered. “I’m not going with Drizzt.” I took a deep breath, then relayed what I saw at the Shank. As I reached the end of my tale, my stomach filled with butterflies. “You once said that you and your crew would help me on my journey, sir. Can you help me go after Chrysaor?”

  “Things have changed, Maimun. We are no longer a simple merchant crew,” Deudermont said, his voice taking an air of formality. “We are now commissioned to hunt pirates. Dangerous work in the best of circumstances.”

  “Chrysaor is a pirate, sir,” I said.

  Robillard looked down at me. “I know of this Chrysaor. He’s an underling pirate, not a captain. Serves—”

  “Asbeel, I know,” I cut in.

  “Pinochet, actually, last I’d heard,” Robillard said. “Who’s Asbeel?”

  “Oh, um, another pirate. I got confused.” I wasn’t quite sure why I was lying to Robillard, and based on his disapproving stare, Deudermont wasn’t so sure either. But the captain did not say anything.

  “Well, Chrysaor’s a water genasi, not exactly common in the city,” Robillard said.

  “A what?” I asked. I had heard the term before, but could not place it.

  “Genasi, descended of creatures of the elemental planes. He’s got the blood of a water elemental in him.”

  “But … Aren’t water elementals just, you know, water? How can they have kids?”

  “Elemental creatures, not elementals specifically,” Robillard said, rolling his eyes at my ignorance. “Maybe his great-great-great grandmother was a water nymph, and his great-great-great-grandfather was damned lucky,” Robillard said, laughing at his own joke. When he saw we weren’t joining in, he shrugged. “In any case, I can keep eyes on him easily enough.”

  I looked from Robillard to Deudermont, my eyes pleading. “If you help me, I’ll do anything. I can fight. I can clean the bilge or the galley. Whatever you wish.”

  Deudermont sized me up. “You made good account of yourself on the last voyage. You have sharp eyes, and I could use a good lookout.”

  “So does that mean you will help me?” I asked.

  Deudermont nodded. “Now grab some crates and follow the crew. We’ve a new ship to prepare.”

  I was off and running before the captain had finished giving his order. My goal seemed so much closer than it had even a day before. And, I dared to think, so was Joen.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The new ship, which Captain Deudermont named Sea Sprite—prompting among the crew a long series of jokes about his creativity—was beautiful, for sure. She was smaller than the old Sea Sprite, sleeker, with a different cut to the sails that would supposedly let her run faster and turn more sharply than any other ship on the seas. She was built to overtake a pirate ship in a chase, but not to overpower her.

  But she was not built for the comfort of her crew. On the old ship, our quarters had been cramped. On the new vessel we were packed in so tightly it was a wonder no one was crushed to death while sleeping. The galley was about half the size of our old one. Every time Tonnid or Lucky asked me to play cards, I turned them down. I didn’t want to get stuck with any of their lousy shifts on the new ship.

  In truth, we didn’t have much time to spare for games. And none of us were given shore leave for more than a day at a time. Instead we spent our hours on deck, with a pair of swordmasters hired by the Lords of Waterdeep to train the crew.

  For three months we sat in port, and for all three we drilled.

  At first, Deudermont told me he wanted to keep me from fighting pirates once the ship set sail. He said I would be of more use in the crow’s nest. But I finally wore him down with my constant begging, and he agreed it couldn’t hurt for me to have some formal training in combat tactics and swordplay.

  I was part of the crew, fully and completely. It should have made me happy. But the drills were more difficult than anything I’d tried to do before. My condition, while no longer worsening, left me terribly clumsy at best. The instructors were merciless, not accepting any excuses. The crew never passed an opportunity to laugh at my stumbles.

  Each night I would find a note from Robillard on my cot. He magically watched Chrysaor, who made no attempt to hide his actions. Like us, Chrysaor couldn’t set sail until the winter storms had passed Waterdeep. But he did everything he could to prepare his crew to leave come spring. Shortly after the meeting in the tavern, Robillard left me a note that told me Chrysaor had purchased a ship, a two-master called Lady Luck. Later notes detailed the supplies Chrysaor bought each day. It was clear he and his crew were stocking the ship for a long, long journey. Each note ended the same way: “So when are you going to pay me for this service?” followed by Robillard’s overly grandiose signature.

  Then one day, six tendays yet before the vernal equinox, a burst of warm air flowed up from the south, and Waterdeep found herself thawing.

  I came above deck, wrapped in my winter clothes, along with the whole crew. We had the day off, but the quarters below were so cramped that no one desired to stay put. We were to begin the next day with tactical training—which I guess meant moving as a unit—and we were all pleased, as we expected it to be less physically taxing than the sword fighting we had been learning.

  But the air was warm, and the sun was bright, and we found ourselves distracted by a strange sight at that time of year: sails.

  A single ship made her way through the still-icy waters of Waterdeep Harbor, headed for open seas. She was far from our berth, and the glare of the brilliant sun on the ice made her hard to distinguish. But somehow I knew exactly which ship she was.

  I rushed to the captain’s cabin and banged my fist against the door. “She’s leaving! She’s leaving! Captain!”

  The door swung open, and I nearly tumbled in. Captain Deudermont stood before me, fully decked out in his regal captain’s attire; behind him, Robillard appeared to be laughing. At me, I knew.

  “Who is leaving?”

  “Jo—uh, Chrysaor’s ship. Lady Luck. She’s leaving, right now, and we gotta go catch her.”

  Deudermont ushered me inside, motioning to a comfortable seat at the round oak table, between the wizard and Lucky, who had been appointed the boarding crew’s tactical leader, a position of high honor. I gave my friend a brief smile as I took my seat, but if he noticed he paid me no heed.

  “Robillard, what has your scrying revealed?” Deudermont asked, taking a seat across from me.

  “Memory going in your old age, captain? I just told you.”

  “Yes, and now you will tell our newest arrival,” Deudermont said, gesturing at me. “The short version will do fine.”

  Robillard rolled his eyes. “Captain Chrysaor and his ship have left port and are making slow speed to the south,” he said.

  “And beyond that?” Deudermont leaned comfortably back into his chair, seeming almost disinterested.

  “There’s a great storm brewing to the north,” The wizard replied. “If it turns south, it’ll put Waterdeep under several feet of snow in three days’ time.”

  “Now Maimun,” said Deudermont. “What do you suppose would happen to a ship caught in such a storm?”

  “She’d be covered in snow,” I s
aid. “I don’t care.”

  “You should care,” Deudermont snarled. I had never seen him angry like that. “The crew care for you; you should care about them.”

  “I do, but—” I started, but the captain cut me off.

  “But, you care more about yourself and your own goals.”

  “You promised, sir. You promised you would help me however you can.”

  “I did. But this I cannot do.”

  “Why not? They have the guts to sail out, why don’t you?”

  “It’s not about guts. They risk utter disaster, for small gain. I will not take that risk.”

  “Small gain? My life is small gain?” I realized my mistake as soon as the words left my mouth.

  “Your life is at greater risk if we sail out than if we stay here. And your life is not more important than the lives of all the rest of the crew.”

  I had heard that speech before, but from the other side. My life was more important than the whole crew of a ship, Perrault had said. But he had also said, protect first the ones you love.

  “Captain, we’re supposed to be pirate hunters, right?” I asked, putting on my most naïve expression. “Well, there’s a pirate ship. And she’s sailing away. Why aren’t we hunting her?”

  Lucky turned to look at me then at Deudermont, his eyes wide.

  Deudermont rose up. “This conversation is over. You are all dismissed.”

  I started to say something, but Deudermont had already turned his back on me. Lucky punched my shoulder lightly, then headed for the door. Robillard, still sitting next to me, barely contained a laugh; and not for my sake, I knew. If Captain Deudermont hadn’t been there, Robillard would have been taunting me mercilessly.

  With my shoulders slumped, I wandered back out onto the deck. The rest of the crew was enjoying the warm weather, but I felt cold inside, and no amount of sun would change that. I slunk below, fell into my bunk, and drifted off to a fitful sleep, and dreamed I had followed Drizzt and his friends out of Waterdeep.