“Take us back to the ship.” Ehomba turned away from the water and sat himself down. His back ached from leaning so long over the prow.
Reversing his position on the center seat, the first mate took a firmer grip on the oars and pulled hard to extricate them from the clinging weed. “Well, sir? What did the weed fella say? Will they help us?”
“They cannot. But he promised to speak to one who might, and entreat with him on our behalf.”
“One what?” Looking back at his passenger as they pulled free of the weed and into open water, he hauled on one oar and pushed on the other, turning them toward the Grömsketter.
“I am not sure. One king, I think.”
The first mate’s heavy brows drew together. “There are no kings out here.”
“There are watery kingdoms just as there are kingdoms of the land, friend Terious. Who are we to say whether these folk have kings of their own, and if so, what their nature might be? We must have help to escape this valley, and if that means treating some creature of the sea as a king, why, I will be the first to bow down before him and beg assistance.” His gaze left the mate to travel out across the water, toward the surrounding walls of sloping sea that prevented them from continuing on their way.
“It will not be a king of dolphins, though. Or one of their larger cousins, nor sargassum people. It will be something else.”
“How will we know it, then?” Impatient to be back aboard ship, Terious drew hard on the oars, putting his back and full weight into each stroke. “Will it come to us trailing a royal retinue, dressed in rich garment and jewels with a high crown perched upon its head?”