The pirates spun round in surprise at the sudden appearance of the Indestructible less than a hundred yards off their starboard rail. Half panicked by the sight, their crew tried to swing their catapult around and bring it to bear on the gnomes” submersible, but their efforts were wasted. One UAEP swept through them, scattering them across the decks and knocking not a few overboard. The other UAEP struck home in the mast, thudding into the hard timber and splitting it from base to wind-bellied topsail.

The minotaur captain, seeing the steel-headed ram jutting out from the bow of the Indestructible, recognized the hopelessness of the situation. Already, the mainmast of the pirate galley was cracking under the weight of the sails and push of the wind. He swept out his scimitar and roared in a bestial voice, “She’s gonna ram us! Prepare to board and take ’em, lads!”

Indestructible closed on her helpless prey. The crew cheered as the galley’s mainmast split asunder, spilling its sheets and lines in a chaotic heap upon her decks and burying many of her crew. But they saw numerous other pirates, steel in hand, gathering at her starboard rail, the red gleam of murder in their eyes.

The commodore held on. “Full speed!” he shouted. “Brace for impact!”

Indestructible struck the waves, spray flying before its bow. The galley loomed closer, larger, fining up the porthole with its stout timbers. And then, with a rending shriek of metal and cracking of wood, the Indestructible lurched to a sudden stop. Everything not tied down or braced flew forward, smashing against walls and bulkheads.

Conundrum climbed to his feet and pressed his face against the bridge porthole. “That’s done her!” he screamed joyously, pointing at the sea rushing into the pirate galley around the bow of the Indestructible, which was firmly lodged into a hole in the galley’s side large enough to swallow a small whale. The others crowded closer to witness the destruction.

Suddenly, a dark shape dropped before them, its hideous bestial face filling up the window, red eyes blazing, forward swept horns rising from its head. It had a dagger clamped firmly in its mouth, and a scimitar in one sledgelike fist, swept back to strike. The bitter edge of the blade pinged against the glass of the porthole, inflicting no damage but causing everyone to leap back in fear. Other shapes dropped around it, and soon they were pounding on the hatch with their blades.

“Let’s hope they don’t have hammers!” the commodore said, laughing nervously. He turned and shouted down the ladder, “Withdraw the ram!”

“It’s stuck!” Chief Portlost answered as he climbed up to the bridge. He stood before the commodore, wringing his beard in frustration.

“Well, back us up. They’re boarding us,” the commodore said.

“We can’t, sir!” the chief wailed in dismay. “We don’t have a reverse.”

“Is it broken?”

“No, sir. We never designed the ship to go in reverse,” the chief answered.

“Well, that’s torn it,” the commodore said, placing his fists on his hips and stomping his foot.

“Commodore,” Snork said. “The galley’s sinking.” Already, the sea covered half the porthole. The pounding on the hatch had an air of desperation to it, and the minotaur outside the porthole had dropped his scimitar and was trying his dagger against the hatch’s seals.

“She’s sinking,” the commodore repeated, “and taking us with her.”

“Well, Chief, this may complete your Life Quest,”

Commodore Brigg said. “This is a wondrously bad mishap by any definition. I hope you’re recording it.”

Chief Pordost’s head appeared at the top of the ladder. “Thanks for reminding me! Let me get my notebook.” He disappeared below decks.

Now, seawater completely filled the view from the porthole. They saw a pair of large booted feet kicking madly and rising slowly upward. A stream of bubbles poured out of the gaping hole in the galley’s side and vanished upward as well. The sunlight shining through the water grew steadily dimmer and browner.

“How deep do you suppose it is here, Navigator?” the commodore asked, almost as if he were asking for the time of day.

Snork shook his head and shrugged, unable to find words, then turned back to the porthole. Gradually, it grew darker and darker, until it was like a large black eye peering back at them. And still they sank, the two ships twirling round and round each other. Commodore Brigg didn’t voice his greatest concern-that they’d come to rest on the sea floor upside down, or worse, beneath the galley. That’s why he didn’t order the ballast tanks flooded, for he hoped the Indestructible’s buoyancy might keep them on top, if not pull them free entirely.

As the two ships sank deeper and deeper into the Blood Sea, the hull of the Indestructible began to pop and groan in a most alarming fashion. The deck beneath their feet buckled, bowing up a good three inches during the course of their descent. Here and there, where the hull was exposed, they noticed water droplets forming around the ship’s seams, and the air grew noticeably cooler. Every once in a while, the entire ship shuddered from stem to stern, rattling their teeth and everything else not bolted to the deck. Outside the ship, the sea slowly grew as black as a dark elf s heart.

Suddenly, there was a groan, and a shudder more violent than any they had yet experienced passed through the length of the ship. They felt the ship slow, settle, and come to rest with a bump on the bottom of the Blood Sea. Commodore Brigg looked around at his officers and crew that had gathered in the forward corridor and around the ladder leading below. He thrust out his chin, his beard bristling defiantly, and tugged at the bottom of his jacket. “Well,” he said. “Here we are.”

Razmous stood before the porthole, his jaw hanging open like a broken gate, his eyes glazed. Conundrum touched his arm, and slowly the kender’s head swiveled round to look down at him.

“Isn’t it fantastic?” the kender asked dreamily.

“I can’t take this any more,” Sir Tanar said in a voice tinged with hysteria. His claustrophobia seemed to be getting the better of him at last. He ran toward the ladder leading up to the hatch. “My magic will save me,” he snarled. “To the Abyss with the rest of you!”

Sir Grumdish caught the Thorn Knight around the legs and dragged him to the deck before he could reach the ladder. He and the professor sat on Sir Tanar’s back to keep him from rising. The wizard clawed at the floor, spitting curses and threatening to kill them all. Doctor Bothy hurried from sick bay and administered a sedative to the base of the Thorn Knight’s skull. Sir Tanar went limp at the blow, though he continued to moan and gibber incoherently. The doctor passed his reflex hammer to Conundrum in case the Thorn Knight needed another dose of sedative, then directed Sir Grumdish and the professor to carry the Knight to his cabin.

The two gnomes heaved Sir Tanar’s limp bones between them and staggered forward, the doctor and Conundrum following. They entered Sir Tanar’s chambers and tossed him into his hammock. Sir Grumdish staggered back, blowing heavily and digging his knuckles into the small of his back. In the blue light of the glowwormglobes, his white beard looked grayer and older than before, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

“Why, oh why did I ever come on this voyage?” he moaned. “I should be questing after dragons, not dragging hysterical wizards back to their cabins. I miss the smell of fewmets, the crackle of a fire at night, the sound of a sword unsheathing. A pox on the maritime sciences!”

“Now, now,” Doctor Bothy said. “I’ve got something that will cure you. Come to sick bay and I’ll give you a little nip.” The two departed.