But the creatures were too quick. Vambran fumbled for his sword, wondering how well he could swing it through water, when he realized he had seen the creatures' likes before. Blue-skinned and naked, the figures swimming toward him were remarkably similar to elves in appearance, though their hands and feet were webbed. As the sea elves swam around, large, friendly eyes regarded both Vambran and Arbeenok, smiling and reaching out gently to touch the two of them.

A female with short bluish hair, bedecked in shell bracelets and necklaces, swam right up to Vambran. Though he couldn't be certain, he thought it might have been the same member of the species he had encountered before, when Lady's Favor had sunk and he had nearly drowned while dueling the kraken. She smiled at him, those beautiful turquoise eyes with their gold flecks were unmistakable. She swam up next to the lieutenant and wrapped her arms about his head, embracing him and offering him a soft kiss. He didn't fight it. When she pulled away, he thought she might have giggled, though the sound was odd and distorted in the water.

The sea elf maiden rolled over once and regarded him as she paddled backward, and Vambran wondered if he was blushing at the sight of her unclothed, but then she motioned for them to follow her and spun around and darted away. Vambran shrugged and nudged Arbeenok to follow.

Around Vambran and Arbeenok, other sea elves swam in a sort of escort formation, maintaining a distance on every side as well as above and below the pair. As a group, they all followed the female downward, toward a jagged chasm that gashed the side of the sloping ocean floor at an angle. When the sea elf guide darted into the chasm and began descending even faster, Vambran fought a brief sense of panic. It was growing ever darker, and he was beginning to feel the effects of the water pressure on his body. But then the sea elf vanished from view, darting into what must have been a cave. Arbeenok followed, not needing Vambran's guidance to understand where they were expected to go.

The mouth of the cave was large and dark, but the mercenary noted a faint glow from its depths, as the druid obviously did, for he rippled his wings and followed the light source. Vambran hoped he was not misplacing his trust in their guide, but something told him their actions were right.

The cave continued for quite a distance. The light turned out to be glowing coral positioned at intervals on the walls of the tunnel. After several twists and turns in the passage, the cave angled upward, and Vambran could see brighter light ahead.

The water there had a surface, and the mercenary's head broke through as Arbeenok glided up to it. They were in a large chamber with a cavernous roof high overhead. The whole of the place was lit with more of the glowing coral, but brighter lights were also placed along one side of the cavern. Vambran noticed a sort of rocky beach, and the sea elf was sitting there, out of the water, watching him with a bemused smile on her face.

He and Arbeenok drifted toward her until the water was too shallow for the druid to swim any closer. Vambran climbed off his friend and stood up, letting the water cascade off him. Beside Vambran, Arbeenok stood up, transformed back into his natural shape.

"Hello, land-walker," the sea elf said in a somewhat odd accent, but in a voice that was just as sweet as any land elf's. "We've been expecting you."

As Pilos felt himself lose his balance and fall backward, he clutched at Edilus, whose sudden lunge had toppled the two of them together. But the druid's calm gaze did not waver, and as they began to plummet, Edilus shifted shape again, transforming into an eagle right before the priest's eyes. As the druid's hands became wings and his feet talons, he clutched at Pilos and began to beat his wings furiously. Their fall did not abate much at first, but Pilos could feel the power in Edilus's effort, and though the druid was not strong enough to hold his companion aloft, he managed to slow their fall enough so that the impact at the bottom would be less deadly. At the last moment, Edilus pulled up and released Pilos, letting him tumble to the cobblestones. Then he flew off, soaring over the landscape, leaving the priest and the other mercenaries behind.

Someone grabbed Pilos by the back of his tunic and helped him to his feet, guiding him along, running, stumbling, away from the wall. He looked back once and saw Generon guards, their uniforms stark white in the early morning glow of day, pursuing them. He also spotted the crumpled bodies of Quill and Laithe at the base of the wall, lying still. He wondered if either of them had survived, but there was no time to go back and check.

He realized that he did not see Grolo's form still lying in the street, and he looked up in time to see Adyan struggling to carry the dwarf into an alley. As soon as Pilos was able to sprint on his own, Horial released him and ran faster to catch up with his companion, sharing the burden of the wounded sergeant.

In the alley, Horial and Adyan led the young priest through several twisting turns between buildings, stopping at a court filled with crates, refuse, and rickety stairs leading to second-floor wooden landings.

"In here," Horial said over his shoulder, helping Adyan carry Grolo down into a cellar. Pilos followed the two men and turned to pull the door shut behind him. At the last moment, the eagle swooped in, and Pilos had to hold the portal open a moment longer. Once Edilus was inside, Pilos let the door swing shut, leaving him in near-darkness, and shifted a latch to lock it. Then he turned back to see where they had taken refuge.

Horial held a single lit candle and was looking over Adyan's shoulder. "Is he still alive?" the man asked as Adyan checked the dwarf's vital signs. After a moment, the mercenary nodded, but his face was grim. "Not for long, though, if we don't get him some help. Do you have any healing draughts left?" he asked.

Horial shook his head. "No, I used the last of mine back in the woods when we ran into those snakes. Edilus patched me up before, after the fight at the portal. How about it, druid, do you still have some healing magic?"

The man in eagle form cocked his head to one side and stared at the mercenary, then shook it in a clear indication of a negative answer.

Pilos moved over to the wounded and dying dwarf. "I can still conjure a minor spell or two," he said, "but it probably won't be effective enough to rouse him. Just enough to keep him from dying."

"Do it," Horial said, moving over to give the Abreeant space.

Pilos didn't waste any time. Placing his hands around the bolt shaft, he felt the wound pulsing weakly. Closing his eyes, he pleaded with Waukeen to grant the dwarf who had aided them a little more time, and when he yanked the bolt free, he let healing magic flow forth into the gaping hole left behind.

Grolo twitched but did not move otherwise.

Pilos drew a deep breath and performed the magic one more time. It was his last spell, a minor orison that would do little more than stop the bleeding and help Grolo rest. When he was finished, he could hear that the dwarf was breathing a little better, a little stronger.

"That's it," he said, wiping his bloody hands on the dwarf's tunic. "That's all I have left. I hope it's enough."

Place me on his hand, Hetta said, startling the priest.

The Abreeant took the ring from his pocket and slipped it onto Grolo's smallest finger. It barely fit over the end, but Pilos could wiggle it into place. A little more color returned to the dwarf's face and his breathing sounded calmer, more restful.

"What was that for?" Horial asked, eyeing the ring as Pilos put it into his pocket.