Extinction

Pharaun rolled his eyes. At the moment, the storm was a more pressing problem than trying to find the ship of chaos, but Quenthel's muttering was getting on his nerves.

"It's probably a word in the duergar tongue," he told her. "Try 'treasure, or 'seek' or something like that. And turn the wand around?you have to hold the forked end for it to work."

Quenthel's serpents hissed with irritation, but she did as he suggested, turning the wand and switching to the guttural tongue of the duergar. Meanwhile, the storm whirled ever closer. The sound of it had grown loud enough that they had to raise their voices slightly, and its breeze stirred Pharaun's hair.

Danifae shifted nervously.

"If we're still here when the storm hits, we'll be smashed against the rocks," she said.

"Or drowned," Valas muttered, glancing below at the waves that were already starting to lap against the bottom of the cliff.

"You're forgetting my teleport spell," he told them. "One quick incantation, and we'll be back in the World Above. The only question is, where to go?"

Valas squinted against the swirl of mist that was starting to strike the ledge.

"In a few moments," the scout said, "anywhere is going to be better than here."

Beside him, Quenthel gave a gasp of satisfaction as the wand came to life in her hands. The end of it trembled and jerked back and forth like the head of a lizard that smelled blood, and a loud whine filled the air. As Quenthel moved the wand in a wide, horizontal arc the whining noise rose, then fell?then rose again as she swung the wand so that it pointed at the waterspout.

As the storm grew nearer, filling the air with a spray of water and an even louder roar, she shouted exultantly, "There! The ship of chaos is inside the whirlpool!"

Pharaun squinted at the storm.

"Yes," he told Quenthel. "I can see it now."

And there really was something there?a dim, dark shape at the eye of the storm. For once, the high priestess seemed to have gotten something right. Belshazu had told them the ship was lost in a "terrible storm" and they were looking at just that?a storm that had raged for centuries.

The ship of chaos might have been whole when the surviving demon swam away from it, but after centuries of being buffeted by wind and water it seemed unlikely that it would still be intact. The storm had yet to hit them fully, but already the wind of it was tearing at Pharaun's piwafwi and pelting him with spray. Just being at the outer edge of the storm was like being struck, repeatedly, by water thrown from a bucket. Pharaun pulled his piwafwi tighter around him, making sure it covered the backpack in which his spellbooks were stored.

"We've got to get a look inside that whirlpool," Quenthel shouted, oblivious to the drops of water striking her face.

"And how do you propose we do that?" Pharaun asked. "Dig our claws into the rock and hang on, as Jeggred's doing, then dive into the eye of the storm?"

To his surprise, Quenthel nodded vigorously.

"Yes," she replied. "Valas can do it."

The mercenary's eyes widened.

"Dispel your polymorph spell," Quenthel shouted back. "Valas can swim into the whirlpool and take a look."

Valas's eyebrows rose even higher.

"Swim?" he protested, staring at the violently spiraling water. "Through that?"

He folded his arms across his chest, ignoring the angry twitching of Quenthel's serpents as she drew her whip. His eyes?which for once he did not lower under her glare?said it all. He'd rather die by her lash than embark on such a suicidal mission.

Danifae, meanwhile, gripped Pharaun's arm.

"We're wasting time," she whispered. "Leave these fools behind. Cast your teleportation spell."

Pharaun plucked her hand free?earning a wrathful glare from the battle-captive?and he reached into a pocket of his piwafwi. Pulling out his last pinch of seeds, he held them tightly between thumb and forefinger, wary lest the storm pluck them away. Squeezing past the others, he walked to one end of the narrow ledge to a spot he judged to be well beyond the portal.

"I've got a better idea," he told them all.

Releasing the seeds, he barked out the words of his spell and stabbed a finger toward the rock. A tu

They needed no urging. The storm was upon them, whipping their hair and piwafwis and soaking them with sheets of water. Stumbling along the slippery ledge, they hurried inside, Quenthel and Jeggred shoving their way past Danifae and causing her to slip on the bat guano that had been soaked by the storm. Pharaun reached out to steady her, but Valas was quicker. Grabbing Danifae's arm, he shoved her forward into the tu

Pharaun tried to convey his apologies in a glance, but Danifae ignored him. Sighing, he waved the others to the back of the tu

Turning to Quenthel, he bowed, then swept a hand in the direction of the plug of ice.

"Won't you step up to the viewing platform, Mistress?" he asked. "I'm sure the ship of chaos will be along directly."

Quenthel stared at him for a long moment as if trying to decide whether or not she was being mocked. Her whip vipers snapped at each other, then relaxed. Nose in the air, Quenthel strode past Pharaun and stared out through the ice, leaning this way and that as she tried to see beyond the water that crashed against the other side of it. The air inside the tu

At that, the others crowded forward. Even Jeggred loped up to crouch and peer out past his mistress's legs.

"That figure," Quenthel gasped. "What is it?"

Pharaun leaned forward for a better look. The wall of ice he was staring through was half as thick as his forearm was long, and beyond it was the waterspout, several paces thick at that point and filled with whirling spray. Dimly, at the very eye of the storm, he could see a twisting shape. It was proportioned like a drow, with head, arms, and legs, but twice the height of the tallest female and with a whiplike tail. It appeared to be naked, its skin a pale gray. Pharaun thought it was flailing against the wind, raking the air around it with wide sweeps of its claws, but then he realized that it was spi

Beside him, Danifae gasped.

"The uridezu," the battle-captive whispered.

Pharaun nodded.

"And the ship!" Valas exclaimed, standing on tiptoes to peer down over the lip of the ledge outside and pointing.

Pharaun looked down at the point where the waterspout met the whirlpool. The ship was indeed there, its hull stuck fast in the water that formed the i

The hull was bone-white in color, as were the three masts, from which hung tattered sails.