Why, indeed, Vambran thought, remembering his swim with the girl earlier.

"I believe the item she describes is the one we are looking for," Arbeenok said, swimming beside the two of them. "I cannot explain it with clarity, but everything she described feels right with my own intuitions."

"Well, even if it is the right one," Vambran said, feeling a sense of gloom wash over him, "we don't have any idea where it is now. A leader of the city could have taken it home with him, could have placed it in some vault somewhere, or it could have shattered during use," he continued. "Jhaamdath stretched all along the coast, just as Chondath does now. Without some sense of reference, that fable doesn't give us much."

"Oh, the histories tell more," Serille said, her smile bright. "The elves chronicled their visit in detail, for they wanted history to understand why the cataclysm came to be. The elves gathered in the midst of Naarkolyth, the largest of the twelve cities, in a great palace, and met with the king. He accepted the gifts the elves had brought and sent them away, promising better relations, but they were empty words, as we now know. The elves believed that the king, fearing a trick, had the gifts sealed away in a vault beneath the same audience chamber where they had been bestowed. He never once took them out and put them to use. Two years later, after more bickering and slaughter, Jhaamdath was wiped from the face of Toril."

"So we know it's in the center of the city of Naarkolyth," Vambran said, imagining what it must have been like in those final hours, as an immense tidal wave scoured the coastline clean. Turning to Arbeenok, the lieutenant asked, "Do you suppose this great palace chamber is the same as in your vision?"

The druid nodded. "I believe so."

"Then you'll know we're there when we actually get there," the mercenary quipped.

After her tale-spinning, Serille took the opportunity to play, cavorting around Vambran, sneaking up beneath or behind him and tickling him when he wasn't expecting it. The lieutenant took some delight in her affections and tried to chase her down once or twice, but she was a far better swimmer than he and easily evaded his lunges. At one point, after she had come at the mercenary officer from above and wrapped her hands across his eyes as if to play guess-who, Vambran noticed one of the male elves scowling at him. As soon as Vambran returned the look, though, the sea elf turned away and swam out a little distance, as though watching for trouble.

I've seen that kind of scowl before, the lieutenant thought, rolling his eyes. He swam over to Serille and said pointedly, "A couple of your companions are acting a little possessive of you, and don't seem to like our carrying on. Is there something I should know?"

Serille's eyes narrowed the slightest bit, but Vambran wasn't certain whether her irritation was directed at him and his blunt question or at the other sea elf's resentment. She asked, "Which one?" in a very serious and somewhat icy tone. When Vambran pointed out the fellow, the girl swam directly over to him and began a rather one-sided conversation, with quite a bit of gesticulating to accompany it. On more than one occasion, the male turned to look at Vambran, but Serille quickly dragged his attention back to her. When the discussion was finished, she swam back to the lieutenant and said, "That's Ishuliga. He doesn't think I should be consorting with surface dwellers. I changed his mind, and he shouldn't be a problem any more." Then she swam away, toward the front of the procession, apparently no longer in a playful mood.

Vambran considered swimming over to Ishuliga himself, to try to settle things in a more comfortable manner, but he decided against it, at least for the time being. If a better opportunity arises, then I might, he decided. With that decision, the mercenary forgot about the matter and returned his attention to the journey at hand.

The sea elves and their visitors traveled for several hours before they arrived at a spot overlooking a region of rough and rocky terrain. Vambran studied it and noted that the contrast between that area and the rest of the seabed seemed remarkable. The idea occurred to him that perhaps it was debris from the great tidal wave. He wondered if certain parts of the coast of Jhaamdath had been harder hit or were more susceptible to destruction than others. It made sense to him that regions along the coast that were formed of loose soil would settle more evenly once dragged into the water, while rocky terrain would form a more uneven landscape-or rather seascape-such as the scene they faced at the moment.

"This is where Naarkolyth is buried," Serille said, swimming closer to Vambran and Arbeenok. "A couple of locations can be found where fissures open into the depths of the ruins, but most of the buildings were crushed beneath all of the earth that was dragged off the land with it."

"I wish we had some sort of map of the city," Vambran lamented. "It might help us determine the layout once we get down there."

Serille chuckled. "No map from the surface would aid you now," she said. "The city was literally tumbled down upon itself. What little survived was most often turned upside down or sideways. Whole sections of the city were rearranged as the waves dragged it out to sea. It is simply a different place."

"What should we expect in the way of trouble?" Vambran asked. "You said these were dangerous waters."

"They are. Koalinth live in the cracks and crevices of this part of the Selmal Basin, brutes who wage war upon one another almost as often as they attack my own people. They are not overly bright, but they prefer overwhelming numbers. We would do better not to have to face them at all, but if we cannot avoid a skirmish with them, do not show them any hesitation, any fear. That's what inspires them to continue to fight."

Vambran glanced over at Arbeenok, who was nodding. "They are distant cousins to hobgoblins in the hills above," the druid said. "They fight with similar tactics."

Vambran found himself wishing he had his sword. He looked at the trident in his hands. I'll make do, he decided. "All right," he said at last, "Lead on."

"We cannot risk light here," Serille said, turning to begin the descent. "Not until we reach the mouth of the fissures. We will attract too much attention to ourselves. So until then, stay close so you don't get lost."

The procession of sea elves and surface visitors began to swim out over the edge of the continental shelf, following the steeper slope as it angled down, deeper into the gloom below and away from the sunlight. The rough and tumble appearance of the sea floor put Vambran on edge, for he imagined a horde of swimming, swarming hobgoblins springing out of every gorge, charging from around every craggy outcropping. Hiding places were plentiful, and because the sea elves had explained that they should stay close to the sea floor rather than risking visibility by swimming high, it felt as if they were ripe for an ambush.

Yet nothing attacked the group and they continued on, swimming downward, deeper than Vambran could have managed on his magic alone. The pressure would have taken its toll on his body long before, without the aid of the necklace Serille had given him. Even so, he was beginning to feel the effects of the gloom, for the water was growing colder, cut off as it was from the warmth of the sun shining on the surface.

This is the sea nightmares are made of, the mercenary realized. This is what the sailors imagine when their ships are slowly receding beneath the storm-tossed waves. They both love and fear it, and this is why.

As Vambran paddled along, keeping an eye on the rocks below him, he passed a particularly unusual outcropping. It was covered in brown coral, not nearly as colorful as the species that grew in shallow water. The coral was interspersed with unusual anemones and strange, frondlike things. But what really caught the lieutenant's attention was the shape of the undersea promontory. It had the distinct likeness of a broad, round dome, and though the growth of the sea hid it well, he thought he could see columns, evenly spaced and perfectly parallel, running from one side of the dome. Its orientation suggested that it was lying on its side, but Vambran could easily imagine it as a central structure in a broad plaza somewhere on the surface. A temple, perhaps, or a civic building with steps surrounding it.