Serpent Mage by Weis, Margaret

No screams, no tears, no panic. Haplo was forced to give the mensch grudging credit for that much courage.

“What do we do?” asked Devon, trying very hard to keep his voice from cracking.

“We stay here,” said Haplo. “We don’t go anywhere or do anything. We wait.”

“We’re not going to be waiting very long,” Grundle observed.

“What? Why not?” Haplo demanded.

In answer, she pointed above his head. Haplo looked up. The light shining from his skin illuminated the wooden planks above them. They were wet, shining. A drop of water fell to the floor at Haplo’s feet. Another followed, and another.

Haplo sprang back, flattened himself against the wall. He stared at the water on the deck, looked up at the drops that were falling from the overhead. The drops had merged into a trickle, the trickle was rapidly becoming a stream.

“The ship’s breaking apart,” stated Grundle, then frowned. “Dwarven submersibles don’t break apart, though. It must be the snakes.”

“They’re driving us out. We’ll have to swim,” said Alake. “Don’t worry, Grundle. Devon and I will help you.”

“I’m not worried,” said the dwarf. Her gaze slid to Hap!o.

For the first time in his life, he knew stark terror—weakening, debilitating. His fear robbed him of his ability to think, to reason. He could do nothing except stare with a terrible fascination at the water that was creeping nearer and nearer his feet.

Swim! He almost laughed. So it is a trap! They lure me here, then see to it that I’m helpless.

Water splashed on his arm. Haplo flinched, wiped it off hastily. Too late. Where the seawater touched the skin, the sigla’s glow darkened. The water was rising, it sloshed over the toes of his boots. He could feel the circle of his magic slowly begin to crack and crumble.

“Haplo! What’s wrong!” Alake cried.

A section of the hull gave way. Wood snapped and splintered. Water cascaded in through the gaping hole. The elf lost his footing, slid beneath the torrent. Alake, clinging to an upright beam, caught hold of Devon’s wrist, saved him from being washed down the corridor. He staggered to his feet.

“We can’t stay here!” he shouted.

The water was level with Grundle’s waist and the dwarf maid was starting to panic. Her nut-brown complexion had gone sallow. Her eyes were round, her chin beginning to quiver. Dwarves can breathe the seawater, in the same manner as elves and humans, but—probably because their solid bodies are so ungainly in the water—they don’t like the sea, don’t trust it.

Grundle had never been in water up over her ankles. Now it was rising to her chest.

“Help! Alake, Devon! help m-me!” she shrieked, flailing about with her arms, splashing wildly. “Alakeeeee!”

“Grundle! It’s all right!” .

“Here, catch hold of my hand. Ouch! Don’t pinch. I’ve got you. Let loose a bit. There, take Alake’s hand, too.”

“I have you, Grundle. You’re going to be fine. Relax. No, don’t swallow the water. Duck your head down and take a breath just as you would the air. No! Don’t! You’ll choke! She’s choking. Grundle . . .”

The dwarf sank beneath the water, came up coughing and sputtering, increasing her panic.

“We better get her to the surface!” cried Devon.

Alake cast a worried look in Haplo’s direction.

He had neither moved nor spoken. The water was up to his thighs. The light from his skin had all but died out.

Haplo saw her look, saw that she was concerned about him. He almost laughed out loud.

“Go on!” he snarled.

More planks were giving way, the water was almost to Grun-dle’s nose. The dwarf maid fought to keep her head above it, panted and gurgled.

Devon winced in pain. “She’s tearing my hand off, Alake! Come on!”

“Go!” Haplo commanded angrily.

The hull gave way with a shattering crash. Water surged inside the ship, closed over Haplo’s head. He lost sight of the mensch, lost sight of everything. It was as if night had taken on liquid shape and form. He knew a moment’s panic equal to the dwarf’s. He held his breath until it hurt, not wanting to breathe the darkness. A part of his despairing mind told him it would be far easier to drown. His body refused to let him, however.