Arcane energy sprang to life around Tsuta’s raised hands. “Behind you!”

  “Hold the boat!” Iskvold ordered Whydah. Grabbing her staff, she scrambled onto the dock, ready to engage the pursuer. Her sudden movement caused the vessel to pitch, and Bird’s grip on the gunwales to dig even deeper. Unsure what to think, Herk stepped to the side.

  The wizard raised his palms as he barreled toward them. “No! That’s Segwyn!”

  The cinder pawed at his chin, then his head as he ran, finally removing the bonnet. His form shimmered, restoring his familiar look just beyond Iskvold’s spinning weapon.

  “Anyone following?” Whydah asked, shifting back to the middle row she shared with Tsuta as the drow climbed back in.

  “I don’t think so,” the wizard wheezed. “But we may have triggered the Red Queen’s curse on one of the speakers. So, they’re hopping mad and dead set on finding the ‘unconverted’ responsible.” He tumbled in, next to Whydah, forcing her and Tsuta to make room.

  Segwyn climbed over him, headed for the back row between Lunish and Iskvold as he continued. “If they don’t find some explanation, it’s definitely going to put them on high alert.”

  Whydah looked at Herk, then back at the wizard. “Have you got enough juice left to cast Invisibility?” Glynfir nodded in reply.

  The two switched positions, allowing Whydah to scramble back up onto the dock where their gnomish friend was untying the longboat’s mooring line.

  “Herk?” she cooed as the gnome looked up, her hand, once again, reaching for the pendant. “I suggest you help me retrieve my lost cat. He’s somewhere in that open warehouse.” She pointed back toward the pier. “His name is Dexter. If you keep calling him, he’ll come eventually. If anyone asks, he belongs to the crew of the...” She glanced at the stern of his ship, “…Mudlark. And don’t tell anyone about seeing us until morning.” As she spoke, the green mist billowed from her lips, clouding around the gnome’s face.

  His pupils dilated as he handed her the boat’s mooring line. “I can certainly do that for you, mum!”

  He rose and turned on his heel. Whydah shot Glynfir an urgent look, nodding toward the gnome with raised eyebrows.

  Connecting the unspoken dots, the wizard quickly grabbed the resin block in his pocket, muttering the words of the Invisibility spell.

  Recognizing the need to buy a little time, Tsuta called to the gnome over the wizard’s shoulder. “Oh, Herk, just before you go…”

  The seaman paused, raising his chin to Tsuta with an inquiring smile. “Yes, sir?”

  “I just wanted to say thank you for all your help today.”

  The gnome beamed. The incantation completed, Glynfir gently tapped the man’s boot, and as he turned back toward the warehouse, he shimmered and disappeared.

  Whydah climbed back into the boat, sporting a very satisfied smile as Iskvold pushed them off the dock. “If you hold the spell for a couple of minutes, then drop it, they’ll find their spy, and hopefully dismiss it as a plausible coincidence.”

  Tsuta grabbed the oar lying against the gunwale, dropping its shaft into the rowing notch before pulling a few slow strokes, drawing them into the main body of the river. “Quick thinking, Tiny!”

  The halfling shrugged. “I hope they buy it, for our sake, and his.”

  Segwyn nodded toward the bow, where the normally brash tabby hadn’t moved or spoken, head bowed, claws buried in the gunwales. “What’s up with Whiskers?”

  “He’s having a bad day.” Iskvold teased. “We had some difficulties getting the boat launched, and I’d say he has a pretty severe fear of water.”

  Whydah communicated her confirmation with an exaggerated series of head nods, never saying a word.

  Glynfir leaned forward, placing his hand on the tabby’s shoulder. “If that’s the case, why not tell us, and why would you make a getaway plan involving a boat?”

  Paralyzed with fear, Bird took several deep breaths, fighting hyperventilation. “Because I’m a professional, and it was the best plan.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Just get us back to Turin’s, I’ll get through it.”

  When their longboat hit the main body of the river, Tsuta passed the oar back to Segwyn, and the ranger deployed it over the stern. While the modest current propelled them downstream, he shifted the blade back and forth in the water like a coxswain, navigating them closer to the river’s southern shore.

  Suddenly reminded of what he witnessed inside the warehouse, Glynfir half-turned in his seat to face Iskvold. “By the way, what were you doing at the meeting, and how did you get back to the ship after passing the checkpoint?”

  The drow glanced to either side, confused about who he was asking. After a pause, confusion wrinkled her brow. “Sorry, was that question for me?”

  The wizard doubled down. “Yeah. I saw you at the back of the crowd in the warehouse.”

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  Iskvold straightened her spine, drawing her head back without changing expression. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Glynnie. I never left the ship.”

  Watching the exchange, Segwyn’s eyes narrowed before he spoke. “You’re talking about the drow I brought to your attention? You saw her face?”

  “Yes,” the wizard confirmed. “She looked up once when I glanced back, and as Gond is my witness,” He pointed his index finger at the drow, “If it wasn’t her, it was a doppelganger. I couldn’t figure out why you were inside, thought our plan had gone south, and started to panic, looking for the rest of you.” His eyes darted to Tsuta and Whydah. “That’s how sure I was.”

  The buzz of evening insects and the occasional reply of a frog near the water’s edge were the only sounds as everyone considered the wizard’s statement.

  Whydah was the first to break the extended silence. “Well, if it wasn’t Iskvold, then what other explanation is there?”

  Segwyn closed his eyes in recollection. “I didn’t see her face, but I recall the outfit, and she wasn’t wearing brown robes. She had a black leather jerkin on.” He shook his head with a grimace. “Her lower half wasn’t visible through the crowd.”

  “I just told you that it wasn’t me!” The drow’s eyes flashed dangerously.

  With two hands on their rudder, Segwyn bowed his head in deference. “I know, I know. I wasn’t suggesting otherwise. I was just trying to recall any detail that might help explain what Mustache thought he saw.”

  This seemed to satisfy Iskvold, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

  “How old did she look Glynnie?” Lunish spoke for the first time since their departure.

  The wizard paused for a moment before spreading his hands in a half-shrug, limited by the longboat’s physical confines. “I mean, it’s always difficult to tell with elves, isn’t it. But she seemed young enough that I was sure it was her.”

  “Why, what are you thinking, Braids?” Tsuta probed the druid.

  Lunish cycled a glance through her friends’ faces, hesitant to let the thought out of her head. Iskvold raised her eyebrows at the gnome in an unspoken prompting.

  Acquiescing, Lunish drew in a deep breath. “Well, remember when you saw the symbol, by the fire, and it triggered those childhood memories?”

  The drow nodded. “Of course, but what’s that got to do with…” Her voice trailed off abruptly, both hands coming up to cover her mouth in a gasp, muffled slightly by the sound of her staff clanking into the hull of the boat.

  One by one, Whydah, Tsuta, and Segwyn connected the dots. The halfling put her hand on Iskvold’s knee, eyes filled with concern.

  Seeing the others realize something he hadn’t, Glynfir’s frustration bubbled to the surface. “What is it? What am I not getting?”

  Lunish shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “Really, Glynnie? Do you ever pay attention to anything anyone shares about themselves if it doesn’t affect you directly?”

  The wizard returned a look of open-mouthed disbelief. Before he could rebut the accusation, an almost ghostly voice rose from the bow of the boat.

  “It was her mother.” Bird croaked. Eyes still closed, tightly gripping the wood, the tabby didn’t even raise his head. If nothing else, his ears were still working.

  A sudden impact lurched the longboat to the right, a dull thud echoing from the hull. Bird groaned.

  Whydah turned sharply in her seat. “What was that? Did we just hit something?”

  “I don’t think so.” Segwyn waggled his makeshift rudder. “I don’t hear any scraping, and there’s lots of water here.”

  A second collision tipped their vessel to the right again, more dramatically this time.

  Lunish grabbed the gunwale. “That definitely wasn’t a rock!”

  “I think something’s attacking the boat.” Tsuta craned his neck, looking down into the water.

  With the current silently ferrying them downstream, the heavy conversation from moments before was temporarily forgotten. Five sets of eyes peered futilely into the dark waters. Whydah, seated in the middle seat of the middle row, had no access. And after the first bump, Bird flipped himself around, pressing his back against the interior curve of the bow. Sliding down the hull’s surface until his knees touched his chest. The tabby’s claws returned to either side, eyes pressed tight, breaths coming short and sharp.

  The third strike was even more aggressive, rocking the wooden vessel precariously, a wide splash drenching Iskvold and Glynfir. Whydah grabbed two fistfuls of Tsuta’s robes, leaning back with all her weight, to keep him from going over the side.

  “We need a plan here!” Segwyn shouted, hauling on the rudder oar, turning sharply toward the shore. “Anyone get a look at it?”

  “Too dark!” Iskvold muttered. “Even if I could see them, I can swing my staff. I’d put us all in the water for sure.”

  Glynfir shoved a hand into his pocket as he spoke the words for Dancing Lights. With a snap of his fingers, four glowing orbs materialized around the boat. “This should help.” With a flick of his wrist, they plunged beneath the river’s swirling surface, keeping pace with their drift, and illuminating the underwater perimeter.

  “What can I do?” Whydah asked

  “Stick to the original plan.” Segwyn barked. “You’re poorly positioned, and we need you to find the beacon, or we’ll float all the way into the swamps. Hopefully, the others can deal with it quickly.”

  Whydah nodded and began casting Locate Object. Closing her eyes, she focused her mind on Lunish’s old hat, placed deliberately at the water’s edge near Turin’s cottage that morning. “Nothing yet.”

  A sleek, silver ribbon flashed just under the surface, port side. Long and lean, a bulbous, distended bone surface featured prominently on the creature’s head. Red collar fins rippled around a blunt snout. Short salamander-like legs pressed close to its body, front and rear.

  “It’s big!” Tsuta called, a white aura forming around his hands. Too late to cast before the creature disappeared under the boat, he held the spell. “How long have we got light?”

  “Maybe a minute,” Glynfir replied, rising to his feet, his fingers beginning to dance in preparation.

  Making a loop in their wake, its bony head reappeared between the two glowing orbs starboard, streaking toward another collision with the hull. The wizard launched five glowing darts from his fingertips. Converging below the river’s surface, all five peppered the creature, refracting red flashes through the rippling water’s prism. Undeterred, its sturdy head plate connected just above the keel. The crack of timber added resonance to the hollow boom of the impact.

  Glynfir wobbled as the boat pitched, dropping suddenly back into his seat to avoid going overboard.

  “Did you get him?” Lunish asked.

  “I did, but it barely slowed him down,” the wizard replied.

  “I’ve got another one over here!” Tsuta called, before launching a jagged cylinder of raw white energy from his right hand into the murky depths. His Guiding Bolt connected, pitching the creature off target, forcing it to turn away at the last second. The magical residue from the bald monk’s spell enveloped the creature in a pale glow. Over ten feet long, it remained visible several feet under the water’s surface, coiling effortlessly around for another run.

  Segwyn fought the rudder, continuing to angle the vessel toward the shore. “Anything yet, Whydah?”

  “Believe me, I’ll tell you when I see it!” the halfling fired back.

  “We’ve got another problem,” Lunish’s voice rose an octave as she dropped onto the floor between the seat rows. “We’re taking on water!”

  The Glimmerstone Enigma and The Siremirian Conundrum?

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