Dragons of Spring Dawning by Weis, Margaret

“I’m sorry,” Tika said, flushing. She changed the subject. “But you, you’re human. Why-”

“Why am I here? I have neither the time nor the inclination to relate my story to you, for it is obvious you would not understand me either. None of the others do.”

Tika caught her breath. “There are others? Have you seen any more from our ship… our friends?”

Zebulah shrugged. “There are always others down here. The ruins are vast, and many hold small pockets of air. We take those we rescue to the nearest dwellings. As for your friends, I couldn’t say. If they were on the ship with you, they were most likely lost. The sea elves have given the dead the proper rituals and sent their souls upon their way.” Zebulah stood up. “I’m glad your young man survived. There’s lots of food around Here. Most of the plants you see are edible. Wander about the ruins if you like. I’ve laid a magic spell on them so you can’t get into the sea and drown. Fix the place up. You’ll find more furniture-”

“But wait!” Tika cried. “We can’t stay here! We must return to the surface. Surely there must be some way out?”

“They all ask me that,” Zebulah said with a touch of impatience. “And, frankly, I agree. There must be some way out. People seem to find it on occasion. Then, there are those who simply decide that-like me-they don’t want to leave. I have several old friends who have been around for years. But, see for yourself. Look around. Just be careful you stay in the parts of the ruins we’ve arranged.” He turned toward the door.

“Wait! Don’t go!” Jumping up, tipping over the rickety chair she sat upon, Tika ran after the red-robed magic-user. “You might see my friends. You could tell them-”

“Oh, I doubt it,” Zebulah replied. “To tell you the truth-and no offense, young woman-I’m fed up with your conversation. The longer I live here, the more KreeaQUEKH like you irritate me. Always in a hurry. Never satisfied to stay in one place. You and your young man would be much happier down here in this world than up there in that one. But no, you’ll kill yourselves trying to find your way back. And what do you face up there? Betrayal!” He glanced back at Caramon.

“There is a war up there!” Tika cried passionately. “People are suffering. Don’t you care about that?”

“People are always suffering up there,” Zebulah said. “Nothing I can do about it. No, I don’t care. After all, where does caring get you? Where did it get him?” With an angry gesture at Caramon, Zebulah turned and left, slamming the ramshackle door behind him.

Tika stared after the man uncertainly, wondering if she shouldn’t run out and grab him and hang onto him. He was apparently their only link to the world up there. Wherever down here was…

“Tika…”

“Caramon!” Forgetting Zebulah, Tika ran to the warrior, who was struggling to sit up.

“Where in the name of the Abyss are we?” he asked, looking around with wide eyes. “What happened? The ship-”

“I’m-I’m not sure,” Tika faltered. “Do you feel well enough to sit? Perhaps you should lie down…”

“I’m all right,” Caramon snapped. Then, feeling her flinch at his harshness, he reached out and pulled her in his arms. “I’m sorry, Tika. Forgive me. It’s just… I…” He shook his head.

“I understand,” Tika said softly. Resting her head on his chest, she told him about Zebulah and the sea elves. Caramon listened, blinking in confusion as he slowly absorbed all he heard. Scowling, he looked at the door.

“I wish I’d been conscious,” he muttered. ‘That Zebulah character knows the way out, more than likely. I’d have made him show us.”

“I’m not so sure,” Tika said dubiously. “He’s a magic-user like-” She broke off hurriedly. Seeing the pain in Caramon’s face, she nestled closer to him, reaching up to stroke his face.

“Do you know, Caramon,” she said softly, “he’s right in a way. We could be happy here. Do you realize, this is the first time we’ve ever been alone. I mean really and truly alone together? And it’s so still and peaceful and beautiful in a way. The glowing light from the moss is so soft and eerie, not harsh and glaring like sunlight. And listen to the water murmuring, its singing to us. Then there’s this old, old furniture, and this funny bed…”