TheWateryDepthsIndex SB: Martin/Meriel: The Watery Depths An hour and a quarter later, the group reunites. From Martin's point of view, variety of partners melded with consummate skill on the part of the Dirda's harem. It is possible that Martin considers the leader of Clan Wettin to be a very lucky merman. From Meriel's point of view, her experience, more singular, was punctuated and provided a soundtrack by the sound of the whirring of the gears of the ever watchful Godfrey. Dirda, for his part, seemed singularly unperturbed by the presence of a witness. And, from Meriel's point of view, might have been a bit unRebman in his aggressiveness. With those prurient interests aside,, an hour and a quarter later, the group reunites at Dirda's court. In addition to Meriel, Martin and Godfrey, Ostrom has been summoned, and arrived, as Dirda had agreed. "A bargain is a bargain" Dirda says with satisfaction. "Ostrom will guide you to the site of the rift from which the sharkmen appear in the Outremer, as I promised. "Are there any further concerns or questions, my famed visitors?" he asks. Martin bows. "We thank you for hosting us," he says, "and for your assistance in our quest. Long will the hospitality of Lord Dirda be remembered in Amber." "Indeed," says Meriel, a certain Rebman hauteur in her tone. But that may be a little undercut by a certain pout that accompanies this - a pout that recalls certain activities that might make Dirda's tail shiver sligjhtly in remembrance ... And shiver, slightly Dirda does, before he returns to a more noble and schooled expression on his face Then she turns her most winning smile on Ostrom, their guide. "It most pleases me to be asked to escort the three of you." Ostrom says. "To the dark abyss from out of lost time I shall conduct you three with spoken rhyme Guests of the Wettin from our kelp bed tend I shall see you are safely there by end." And then in a flurry of bubbles he is off. "Martin" Godfrey says with a whirr of gears, his gaze turning to follow Ostrom's movements. "I believe I require more information on poetry and meter." "That can be your task," Meriel tells Martin. "I believe I have tended to Godfrey's education quite sufficiently for today," The smile that accompanies these words might best be described as impudent. And then with a twist and a lithe flick, she is flashing through the water in pursuit of Ostrom. "Not if you did it in time to the music!" Martin calls after her. "C'mon, Godfrey, you can ask while we're following..." "Yes, Martin" Godfrey says. His speed is still slower than Martin (and significantly slower than Meriel and the speeding Ostrom) but he manages to propel himself along as the group leaves the reef of the Wettin in favor of open water. Thirty minutes later, with Godfrey trying to get the particulars of rhyme schemes, blank verse and other poetry forms down pat from Martin, Ostrom (with the impudent Meriel in a photo finish for the Gold) stops his progress and holds up a hand. Ahead of him, the sandy bottom abruptly changes just ahead, as if it were another country. Smooth sandy bottom gives way, in a neat line to a jagged, spare bottom dominated by basalt columns rising from the floor like fingers from an alien, cthonic god. These fingers surround a dark gash, a rent, a trench in the sea bottom that appears to extend for at least a quarter mile in both directions, and is at least 100 yards wide. There is a slight odor of sulphur in the water. Meriel wrinkles her nose. "The Abyss, the Rift of which his lordship spoke." Ostrom says, pointing a hand. "It is from there, and that blasted terrain, that the sharkmen are said to have come." "That," Martin says, slowly, "reminds me a whole lot of the Black Road." He glances at their guide. "How far will you be going with us, Ostrom?" Meriel turn a questioning glance at Martin, and then floats rather than swims a little closer to the Abyss, her hands spread to test currents and undertow. "I can swim somewhat closer." Ostrom says. "But such a sight as this unnerves me, honored guests from Amber and Rebma." "The Black Road" Godfrey says, with a muted whirr. "This may be an unknown manifestation of that phenomenon." A whirr of gears. "I have no data about aquatic or semi-aquatic manifestations of the Black Road." In the meantime, Meriel's slight approach does allow her to sense that there is a cold current flowing from the Abyss. Unnaturally thick and cold, too, for a natural ocean current. "I think," said Meriel slowly, "that it may be heard to breath that water ... even protected as we are. Shall I test it?" For a moment Martin looks like he's going to refuse, but then he says, "Yeah... yeah. You'd have the best survivability here. And, um, hold this PDA for me, would you?" He presses a few buttons on the box and then hands it to her. "Since you'll be in it anyway. Maybe it will give us a few extra clues." Meriel, who winced slightly at the 'suvivability', mutely took the box and looked at it, frowning a little. "Martin" Godfrey says with a whirr of gears. "I may be able to extend the range of communication with Miss Meriel if I am positioned at the threshold of the current. Alternatively, it may be useful for me to accompany Meriel and escort her, although that would not allow her the extended range I might be able to provide her." "I am ready to move a little closer to the Rift" Ostrom says. "But not much closer." "I'm not planning on going *that* far," says Meriel. She catches up a strand of her floating dress and twists it over her nose and mouth - a crude filter to keep larger particulate pollutants out. Then she advances steadily towards the Rift and prepares to dive. "Godfrey," Martin says, "yeah. Be our communications link. I'll be the reserves in case something goes wrong. Ostrom- I wouldn't ask you to go farther than you will. You've done what you came here to do." "His lordship would have it fall ill on me if something untoward happened to his honored guests." Ostrom says to Martin. "Someone, however, should remain here with you, in case of danger." He punches his chest and with a powerful motion of his hips, beats his tail. In the meantime Meriel can make her way to the edge of the Rift. The current has gotten noticeably stronger here. As she prepares to dive, Godfrey comes up alongside her and looks down into the rift. Just as he can, Meriel can see from her that the gloom of the rift makes it difficult to see into it without actually going into it. What she can see from here is that the rift appears to widen significantly not far down from the precipice the Rebman now stands poised upon. The PDA Martin has given Meriel beeps plaintively. Meriel glances down at it, almost distractedly. Then she turns slightly. "Godfrey," she says quietly, "if I go down to where the Rift widens ... to there .... " She indicates the distance with a gesture. "If I did that - would you be able to help me return?" Godfrey regards the spot for a moment or two. Meriel can hear the gears in the automation whirr furiously. Finally, he turns his head toward Meriel and nods. "Miss Meriel, I calculate a 97.78% probability that I would be able to rescue you, assuming you lost all motor functions, from the requested distance. The probability drops precipitously at additional depths, however, given currents and unknown factors. Increasing the dive distance by twenty percent from your stated distance reduces the probability to just below 64%." "I apologize for not having the capacity in these conditions to provide you a full plotted graph of probabilities versus depths." Godfrey adds. "Well," says Meriel, practically, "I am not planning a very deep dive. Not yet anyway." She glances towards Ostrom and Martin, and then moves to the very edge before neatly flipping so that she can swim downwards into the Rift but - to begins with - no more than the few strokes she has indicated to Godfrey. Martin moves forward automatically, and stops himself before he gets all the way to where Godfrey holds his position. Martin growls something unintelligible, then swims up a bit so that he can still keep Meriel in view as she descends. Meriel's shallow descent brings her into contact with an ever stronger and colder current. The already dim light further shades into near darkness. It takes all of her Rebman shapeshifting to see down and down. It takes all of her shapeshifting to see the two figures starting to rise up from the depths of the Abyss toward her, as Martin's PDA turns into a siren of warning. Meriel does not see them, of course,but at this point Martin can see the additional half dozen figures not within the Abyss, but on the ocean floor, on the far side of the Abyss, coming into view. Carrying spears and nets, the humanoid, sharkmen, grey skinned and with malicious toothy grins are swimming toward Martin, Godfrey and Ostrom with an easy, unhurried pace. Meriel holds her position, watching the approaching figures as she reaches down and takes a firm hold of her mirror dagger. "Calcium carbonate, selenium, magnesium," Martin mutters, staring at the ocean floor below him and Ostrom. "Meriel? Godfrey? I think it's time to move back and get together, don't you?" "Martin" Godfrey calls back, his gaze still on Meriel and the depths of the Abyss before him. "Two humanoids armed with underwater weapons are approaching Miss Meriel. I believe she means to engage them in combat." Meriel can see the two figures are each armed with thrusting spears, and one carries a weighted fishing net, large enough to capture a full grown woman. Neither weapon would be out of place in, say, Rebma. "Lord Martin" Ostrom says, looking at the half dozen Pistrines, Sharkmen, who are nearing the far side of the Abyss. "Our position here is not tenable." Meriel, at the very least, is about to enter combat. Intentions? (Weaving together intentions...) "Miss Meriel" Godfrey calls down. "Leaving immediately and at speed would be advisable. He has directed me to make a sonic attack." Meriel in the meantime seems to be deliberately luring the two figures from the rift closer and closer to her. The Piscines, for now Meriel can see they are definitely sharkmen, take the bait, readying the net to go for a snatch and grab on Meriel... Who responds by suddenly shooting out of the rift at speed, as only a Rebman born to the sea can. Nearly bowling over Ostegos in the process, she neatly escapes the trap set for her by her antagonists. This does mean, though that the six Piscines at sea floor level starting to get across the Rift run into the two moving upwards. Godfrey stands in position, his mouth open as his ultrasonic weapon is deployed in the direction of the rift. "Martin" Godfrey reports."Miss Meriel is approaching your location." Godfrey words presages Meriel's arrival at the spot where Martin and Ostrom wait by only a few seconds. Godfrey reports again, twenty seconds later, retreating backward. "Attempt to close the rift has failed." In the meantime, the eight Piscines, their attacks mixed up, are tangled together. In the case of three of the Piscines, this is a literal condition, caught by the deployed net of the two Abyssal Piscines. "Shall we kill them all, or save one or two to question?" asks Meriel, her eyes sparkling, and her knife now openly hefted. "We want to save one or two," Martin says. He's produced a rifle, seemingly from nowhere, and is fiddling with it. "Is that a firearm?" Ostrom says, as Martin fiddles with his rifle. "A Weapon of the Prince of the Silver Rose? Will such a device work here?" "Hmm, yes, this tangle makes things a lot easier. Alright boys," Martin calls out, swimming slowly forward. "Here's your chance. Those who don't want to get killed, better head back the way you came." "Martin. Meriel" Ostegos says, propelling himself to keep pace with Martin. "I do not believe our antagonists understand the import of the rifle and will not consider it a credible threat." In the meantime, the Piscines are mostly untangled from their accidental inter-mural fracas, and a few of them are studying their four antagonists, especially Martin, but have not yet retreated--or moved to the attack. The rifle goes 'chak-chock', followed by its normal high-pitched whine, and Martin grins. "It's sort of like that. Call it a Weapon of the Tunnels of Mars, if you want. Not much chance to test this thing underwater there, you know, so I'm going to have to figure dee ex over dee tee in my head. Er, never mind." He points it in the general direction of the Piscines. "Soon as they move, two of 'em will find out that it's a very credible threat. Maybe a third by the time they get to us, and then it'll be sword work. Five to four is much better odds." "This should work too," says Meriel. She retrieves a harpoon gun that must have been slung across her shoulders, examines it briefly (and with considerable pleasure, for her Pattern Walk was quite recent) and then takes aim at one of the Piscines - aiming for the throat. "I do not believe I have long distance weapons suited to underwater combat." Ostegos says, with a tone of apology in his gear-laden voice. "Looks like we have to watch for the moment." Ostrom adds, doubtfully. Meriel and Martin, on the other hand, do not have long to wait until the Piscines sort themselves out. They soon throw up what Martin's training with Benedict would recognize as a classic skirmish line, intending to wash over the quartet in a wave. Martin's gun barks first, taking out one of the center figures with a round to the chest. The creature roars and tumbles backward. Said figure is joined in his backward motion by a second figure. This one was not struck by a round from the rifle, but rather by a rather wicked looking harpoon jutting into its throat from Meriel. By the time Martin and Meriel double the number of casualties on the Piscines side, the remaining four Piscines have, in an envelopment movement have reached effective combat range for their stabbing spears and nets. Intentions? Martin immediately turns so that he's facing one Piscine, with his back towards Meriel; he's assuming they'll all go back-to-back with the shark-men around them. It's hard to tell how the bayonet suddenly appeared at the end of his rifle, but that's what he's thrusting at his opponent. Meriel will glide into position with Martin with a murmured, "Oh, this is
Meriel tosses the harpoon gun (loaded as it is, it makes a good stabbing weapon as well as firing projectiles) into her left hand and smoothly draws her wicked mirror dagger into her right hand. In the meantime, Ostrom and Godfrey don't quite make a back-to-back Battle Couple in the same way that Meriel and Martin so wonderfully do. A whirr of gears allows the latter to grow a blade from the knuckles of his right hand. Although Ostrom did not originally appear armed, he, too, proves to have a dagger hidden in his harness. While it does not shine and throb with the power that Meriel's mirror dagger now does, the sharpened piece of coral looks nasty. As it so happens, like with Meriel, and Martin, and Godfrey, it soon sees work. Martin's foe trades stabs with him, his stabbing spear dancing along with Martin's bayonet. Martin is far too fast for his foe, getting only a scratch from the spear before gutting the Piscine on the bayonet. This might allow a second to spit Martin on the spear, but he himself is driven off by an inexpert but good enough thrust of the knuckle-dagger by Godfrey to give him a shallow wound. In the meantime, Meriel's anticipated joy at releasing more blood is quenched by the power of her harpoon and dagger. The former spits one of the Piscines carrying the approaching net, allowing her with a downward dagger slash to rend the net and make it useless in the bargain. The other holder of the net gets a slight gash across the shoulder from Ostrom's coral dagger. The scent of Rebman pheromones, of shared battle and struggle, swirl in the water around Meriel and Martin. With only two of their members still ambulatory, the remaining Piscines start to swim backward, spears outward, clearly intent on discouraging pursuit or further attack. Martin waits until they're out of jabbing and easy throw range before he brings up his rifle and shoots one of the Piscines in the shoulder. "That's about far enough. Now drop the spears, both of you. I can shoot a lot farther than you can swim." The shot Piscine drifts down until his knee is touching the ocean bottom, spear discarded. The other Piscine looks at the other in shock... In case they haven't got the message, Meriel's harpoon is suddenly burying itself in the lower extremity of the other Piscine, pinning him to the ocean floor. "I thought he might try to swim for it," she says sweetly by way of explanation, her eyes angelically wide. Thus, one Piscine is kneeling on the ocean floor, bleeding from the round that Martin has put in his shoulder. This one is trying to rise to his feet. The other Piscine has it far worse, of course, pinned to the ocean bottom. He is making a concerted effort not to move, given his predicament. "It appears that we will have at least one to question" Godfrey says. "Even if the other flees." "I for one have determined that angering you is an unwise policy." Ostrom says to Meriel. Meriel blinks. "Oh," she says, with the utmost cordiality. "I'm not
between you and me if I *do* get angry." She reflects on this. "Or maybe several shadows," she concedes. "Let's go and question them, Martin!" Martin has time to give Meriel a significant look before he swims closer to the two Piscines. "Okay, we didn't start it, but you see we could finish it," he says to them. "Not really in the mood for more killing right now, though. Are we going to talk, or are you both prepared to die, instead?" Meriel fingers a harpoon, thoughtfully, just to add point (hah!) to his words. The Piscines regard the quartet with trepidation as Godfrey and Ostrom follow in the wake of Martin and Meriel. "We do not speak your bastardization of the Language well." The shoulder-wounded Piscine says, once the group has reached where the two lay. "But we shall speak." His formal diction and speech are definitely Thari, but its not an Amberian or a Deigan variant of Thari. It's unfamiliar to Meriel, although the intonations and pronunciations are haunting, evocative, and beautiful. Martin, on the other hand, does recognize, in the general, the dialect. It's a Chaosian variant of Thari. Meriel cocks her head at the strange inflections, but says nothing, merely standing by Martin. Her role, she has decided, is not so much bad cop as dangerously-out-of-control cop, and it's one she can play with relish. Martin hesitates, rubs his chin, and says, "Hmm. All right, let's start simple. What are your names? Who is your leader?" "Our immediate leader, our Payygan, was slain by the female" the shoulder wounded Piscine says, looking at Meriel and then back at Martin. "He was under the ultimate command of the Marzban Arsalan." "I am Taymour, and this is my broodbrother Yahya." Taymour adds. "Payygan," Martin repeats. "Marzban. Okay. But you're not exactly defending a frontier, are you? You're expanding. Outward. Thisaway. Through this bottomless crack, right? How did it get here?" Meriel stays quiet, listening - and also watching not only the prisoners but also the Abyss for anyone foolhardy enough to attempt a rescue. Meriel's vision does see something stirring in the Abyss, but what it is precisely is not clearly. She can see its not rising or falling, its rather swimming at some depth within the canyon. "You would not understand, even with your strange magics and clever weapons" Yahya blurts out, speaking in a raspy voice. "Backwater barbarians" he adds. "Quiet" Taymour says. He looks at Martin. "The crack is the far end of our passage to your world" Taymour says curtly. "We understand much more than you are willing to give credit, Yahya of the sharkmen," Martin says. "How long have you noticed that such a passage existed?" "Seven nights ago, as we reckon time back home." Yahya says, giving Taymour a indecipherable, goggle-eyed look before looking at Martin and Meriel. "As the passage formed not far from the Citadel of the Autarch, and we are familiar with the Dark Currents that run from our world to others, it was thought that it was this was merely another." "Perhaps we should tell them about the Prophet." Taymour says, with a sour tone. "Why?" Yahya asks. "Because this one is seeking an excuse to use our skin to shod her feet." Taymour says, with a head nod toward Meriel. "Are you not, Lady of the Glass Knife?" Meriel gives an almost sleepy smile. "If he is not satisfied with your answers, perhaps he will give you to me," she agrees. "So let us hear of your Prophet." She shifts position slightly in the water, ostensibly to watch the sharkmen more closely but in reality to give herself a better view of the Abyss. Martin merely looks back at Meriel with a half-smile, then turns his attention back to the sharkmen. "And his prophecy." There is more movement in the Abyss, the shape of an eel or perhaps a ray swimming up the rift lazily toward the top. Other than that, for the moment, it is quiet to Meriel's gaze. Meriel continures to watch. She has slain enough eels to know they can strike fast at need. "A year ago, a holy man came to the Citadel. Although his skin was somewhat golden rather than grayish green, his words had the tone of truth and his eyes the glow of power. The Holy Prophet Luthargo predicted many things, including that a new trod would form one day soon, and lead us to a realm of plenty, of soft men to enslave and devour." "Lo" Taymour continues "as I have said, the Rift has formed, leading from our oceans to this one." "I deduce a 42% probability that this Prophet was a Chaosian in disguise" Godfrey says with a whirr of gears. "Chaosian?" Ostrom says, squinting his eyes at Taymour and Yahya. Meriel listens with interest for the Sharkmen's response. "Or Jayson," Martin says in the intervening silence. "Wish I had a decent picture." "A 24.67% probability that the Prophet was Prince Jayson or a shadow." Godfrey responds, with a whirr of gears. "I do not know this Prince Jayson" Taymour says, with a trace of impatience. "I do not also know what a 'Chaosian' is. I do know that Luthargo is said to have come to our seas by no path known to us. After his teachings ended, two month of tides ago, as we reckon them, he bid the Citadel farewell, and disappeared by no known Current. It is said he disappeared in a dazzle of bright greenish gold flames as he swam away And then, as he promised,days later, the rift appeared." "I hold with the thought" Yahya says "that the Prophet will appear again, here, in this realm." "I amend my probabilities, Martin" Godfrey says. "Reduce the probability of a Chaosian to 31%, and increase the probability that this is related to Jayson to 41.5%" And it is at this point that Meriel (and Ostrom) who points, notes that another of the Sharkmen, a single one this time, is swimming slowly up the rift, accompanying the ray she previously spot. Meriel swings slowly round to face it, setting the harpoon gun into the 'ready' position, but does not yet fire. "Martin?" she says, her voice calm and untroubled, "I think we may have company." "One humanoid Piscine , one member of the Dasyatidae family " Godfrey says, with a whirr of gears. "The former appears to be armed much as the others have been." The ascending ray and Piscine clearly can see Meriel, Ostrom, and Godfrey peering down at them. The latter slows his rise up the rift, and a touch of its fin from the man, the ray slows as well. "Brilliant," Martin says. "Well, it was time to get moving, anyway. The next step is to have our friends, here, take us to their home." Yahya looks at Martin with a wide eyed look that narrows as he studies Random's son. "Ttt..take you to our home?" Taymour says. "Perhaps we do not speak and understand your dialect as well as we might. You want us to lead you back through the Rift, to the Dominions of the Autarch?" "Oh, that will be interesting," says Meriel - glancing at Ostrom. She has a feeling that the mermen will not think his duty stretches so far. "Through the rift?" Ostrom mouths to Meriel. Meriel gives a slow nod. Meriel can here Godfrey's gears turn and whirr although he does not say anything outwardly. "Yup," Martin says to the piscines. "I didn't plan to stay here the entire time, you know. We're passing through. By the way, I don't suppose you know who the guy is with the ray? Maybe it would be a good idea if he stayed back a bit." "You have both of us at a physical disadvantage at the moment." Yahya says. "I might be able to tell you who the man with the ray is if I am permitted to look at him." "Permit one of us to do so, and we might be able to identify him." Taymour agrees. "Hmpf," Martin says. "All right. No hand signals, please. I'd like you to actually keep them, if you know what I mean. My friend here doesn't like stuff like that." Meriel gives a winning smile and fingers her harpoon ray meaningfully. "This may be pointed at the man with the ray right now," her gesture seems to say, "but do you want to take odds I couldn't re-aim fast enough to take out at least one of you, too?" "We do not doubt your martial prowess, do we Yahya?" Taymour says. "We believe your threats of violence if we should act untoward." "I predict" Godfrey says "a 91% probability that treachery will result in the successful prosecution of your death at Meriel's hands." "Perhaps" Yahya says. "As you are less wounded, Taymour, you might make the identification." "Ni" Taymour says. Keeping his hands close to his body, he slowly rises from the kneeling position he has been in since taking the round in the shoulder from Martin. His pivot to face the Abyss is equally slow and patient. His body language is stiff and careful as he bends his neck to look at the figure and the ray that Meriel, Ostrom, and Godfrey have been watching slowly approach the top of the rift. "I know her." Taymour says. "She is unmistakable even from here. She is Asawaran Jystine, Knight Errant in the service of the Autarch, answerable only to her liege lord." "Great," Martin says, not at all sounding convinced of that. "Well, there are knight errants and then there are knight errants. Know her personally, by chance? Maybe we can all get through this alive, if she's reasonable. And I do mean all of us." "I know her" Yahya says. "Too well sometimes, I think" Taymour counters. "She will speak with you, if you show a sign of parley" Yahya says. "That, or if you release me from this devilish spear, I could signal her to come here to speak." Martin smiles as though he's heard a good joke. Exchanging a glance with Meriel, he turns, slings his rifle over his shoulder, then starts slowly swimming in the direction of the newcomer. "I will stay here." Ostrom says. "Martin" Godfrey says. "I will follow at a distance, to be ready if hostilities commence." Meriel remains behind, her duty clearly being to guard these two. She shifts her position slightly so that she can also monitor Martin and swim to his aid if necessary but, knowing Martin, she sees that as a rather remote possibility. But she is interested in how their prisoners will respond to this. "I do not understand. I cannot see what is happening." Yahya complains. "I thought you wanted me as an intermediary. Or at least to witness the encounter." "What I fathom not is how you four are related to each other. I do not understand which of you commands the others." Taymour says. He slowly turns and watches as Martin approaches the Knight. Meriel's grin can only be described as sharkish. "We are blood of Amber and Rebma," she says. "It's moot." Indeed, as Martin swims closer, all eyes are on him, and Jystine. The latter, seeing Martin, slows down. She does not lower her spear, but it is not quite pointed at Martin as she, and her ray, stop several dozen yards away. "Who are you" she says. "And why do you bar my progress?" "I am Martin, of Amber," Martin says. "Travelling through these demenses. I wanted to give you a moment to slow down and take in the situation. I don't want any mistakes, on anyone's part." He moves to the side a few feet, so that she can see the group beyond, if she couldn't before. Jystine looks from Martin, to Meriel, the two prisoners, Godfrey and Ostrom. She then looks back at Martin as he continues to speak. "We were attacked, which wasn't a wise move. And now, we're holding the survivors until we decide what to do with them. We hold their lives in our grasp. They tell me that you are a knight of their people." "I am a knight, sworn to the service of the Autarch" Jystine replies haughtily, raising and lowering her spear. "I know not of this realm of Amber. What rank do you hold in it, that qualifies you to treat with me over the fate of prisoners of war. I will not speak with a peasant or common military man over the fate of captured soldiers." "The Knight is very concerned with status" Yehya murmurs to Meriel. "Rather curiously expressed," says Meriel. "The blade of a common soldier will pierce the heart of a queen just as effectively as the blade of the most gilded knight. And in terms of power, it resides with us, here, regardless of our status." "She knows that not" Yehya comments. "Yehya, silence!" his counterpart commands. [Meriel] watches for Martin's response with interest. Martin looks down a moment and smiles. "Titles, huh?" he asks. "You'll find, someday, that titles aren't all what they're cracked up to be. As far as I go, though, I'd be called a Prince of Amber and Heir Presumptive, I guess. On the Rebman side, it's a little more complicated. I'll forego 'One of the Lords of the Known Universe'." "A Prince" Jystine says Her bearing and demeanor change immediately, as if a tempestuous storm against a rocky shore suddenly settles, becoming less violent, more placid. Still dangerous, but not quite so treacherously so. "I have a Gift for divining truth" Jystine says. "Lest your Gift for dissembling is greater than my gift for truthtellling, you are speaking truly to me." "Very well, Prince Martin of Amber" she continues "What do you wish of a Knight of the Kshathra of the Autarch in return of the safe return of the two survivors?" "Give me a moment to confer with my companions on this matter, and I will return forthwith," Martin says. "Maybe we can find a quick answer to resolve this little situation." "You are granted sanction to confer with your companions. I trust" Jystine looks at Martin with a piercing gaze "you will not take that opportunity to flee the field." Without trouble, Martin can backtrack to where Meriel, Ostrom and Godfrey await. "You have not yet impuged her honor." Yahya says as Martin arrives. "She will hold to your bargain for the nonce." "Well, that's good," Martin says. "Maybe I can keep doing that. Here's hoping. Godfrey, Ostrom, keep watch on our guests a moment, will you? We'll be right here, only about ten feet away. Meriel, a moment of your time?" "I will keep watch, Martin" Godfrey says. Ostrom gives a toss of his hair. "Neither will move while we watch." he says, looking wistfully at Meriel even as he responds to Martin. Meriel smiles at him warnly, a hint of pleasure postponed in the momentary droop of her eyelashes. Ostrom's eyes sparkle in response. Meriel nods and swims to where he indicates, her eyes fastened on him expectantly. "What do you think?" she asks. "Shall we kill them all?" "Is that the Rebman Business Model?" Martin asks. "I dunno. Is that really your thought on it? 'Cause that's why we're over here. Ostrom can't guide us any farther, and these others are definitely hostiles. Even if we were to trade off for safe passage into their realm.. maybe Shadow... and even if this is the place we're looking for, we've got no guarantees once we cross over." Meriel looks thoughtful. "Well," she says, "if we do venture into their land, it would be helpful to commence with a demonstrate of our strength and skill. Do you think she uses that manta as a weapon or a steed? I don't remember ... have you even tamed a manta so that it will serve you as a steed? For one of us to break it to our will ... that could be a pretty demonstration. More potent for our reputation than merely killing them all." "It's big enough that she could use it as both," Martin says. "Did you have some kind of Rebman magic girl-voodoo mind meld or something to take it over? I could probably whip up some kind of radio-controlled neuron splicer, but it would take some time." Meriel regards him with interest, as though this is a possibility she hasn't actually considered. "I was thinking of a two pronged attack," she says at last. "One of us tackling from above ... where the eyes are located, while the other swims underneath. But it won't be easy ... It will need skill and strength from both of us. And a degree of co-operation, if we are to avoid the sting." In the background, as Meriel and Martin converse in privacy, Ostrom fidgits with a nervous twirling of his tail as he keeps watch on the prisoners. Godfrey, on the other hand, and in the meantime, is firmly watching the Knight Errant. Out of the corner of their vision, they can see she is now communing, for lack of a more precise phrase, with the manta. Indeed, it looks large enough to ride, if needed. "Okay," Martin says to Meriel. "Hit it from above and below, I can see that. Then we'll have either a hurt ray, or an unconscious ray, or maybe even holding a tiger by the tail. How do we get from there to taming it?" "Once we have it, we add grapples either side of its mouth," says Meriel. "Attach reins to those, and we can ride its back. We should avoid making it it unconscious - although groggy will help with fitting the grapples. But the real danger to us is the tail, of course. Would that affect Godfrey?" "He can handle punctures, except from the back in one or two places," Martin says. "We'll need to clue him in so he can be on his guard. What about the knight while all this is happening?" "If she accepts our effort to prove our skill," says Meriel, "I would expect that she will make some effort to swing the contest in favour of the ray. Unless, of course, she trusts too much in the perfection of everything that surrounds her. In which case she is in for a somewhat rude awakening!" "Yah, we're all about changing the odds," Martin says. "Okay. Do you have grapples? I should have some, but they'll be in my tool pouch." "I think there are some discarded over there," says Meriel, pointing to a large rock at some little distance. Would it be too suspicious if I went and took a look?" "Probably," Martin says, "but even more suspicious if we both went. I'll sit here and look all deep in thought while you check." He waits, floating in uffish thought while Meriel goes searching. " 'Kay," he says when she gets back. "So the plan is to let Godfrey handle the tail, you go high and I go low? Or did you have another formation in mind?" Indeed, as Meriel hoped, a set of grapples suitable for harnessing the ray were conveniently and providentially discarded behind the boulder. It seems that perhaps the sharkmen left them there from a previous incursion, or left them as a depot of some sort of supplies for future explorations. Leaving Ostrom to continue to watch the Knight, Godfrey preternaturally comes over at Martin's mention of him. "Given my dexterity,I would be best employed as far away from bot of you as possible." he says. "The tail should be a suitable target. Alternatively, I might be best employed to distract the knight." "I'm a little more worried about a you vs. knight matchup than a you vs. ray matchup," Martin says. "My guess is this: we'll move fast, our friend there will panic for a second, the hooks will come out, she'll see them, and then she'll realize we're making a demonstration. Her honor should keep her back, unless her pet gets hurt. If you'll block the thing's tail while we hit it, and it gets done fast enough, we'll have made our point. If there's any hesitation, we'll have completely failed to make a point. It's a big gamble, but Meriel seems confident." Meriel looks up from wear she is unobtrusively arranging the grapples, and nods her agreement with this. "I am in agreement with your course of action." Godfrey says with a underwater-muted whirr of gears. "Given my assessment of our skills based on prior experiences, I calculate an 86% chance of success. There is a 14% chance of serious injury on the part of the Knight Errant." "Shall we implement the plan immediately, or bring Ostrom into our deliberations now, Martin?" Godfrey says. "I think the less he knows, the better," says Meriel. "Then he will react with genuine surprise." She grins at Martin. "I am ready" Godfrey says. He turns his head to regard the ray, gears whirring audibly even as he says nothing. Jystine, the Knight, has turned from what looks like some sort of prayer to regard the group expectantly. Its clear she recognizes something is about to occur, given her subtle changes in stance and body language. And so we go forward... Meriel and Martin's sudden, brutal attack on the Manta mount begins well enough, with the attack on the Manta quick and unexpected by the Knight, Ostrom, or the two prisoners. The Ray reacts violently to the grappling hooks from the unfamiliar would be riders, and it attempts to batter Meriel and Martin with its fins, ineffectually. The real danger is, as was predicted, the tail. The tail is razor sharp, and cracks underwater like a whip. Like a shield, at every twist and strike of the whip, Godfrey is there. The tail of the Manta does not avail it against the clockwork perfection of his body. One sensuous, sinuous snap nearly does reach Martin and Meriel, before Godfrey's hand, slicing through the water, bludgeons it away. So arrayed, in short order, with Martin standing alongside both. Meriel has managed to mount the manta as her steed. It would take time to fully break the manta to her will, but for the moment, she is its mistress. In the meantime, although the Knight did not move, Taymour and Yahya, have risen, in seeming revolt, or an attempt at escape. It is Ostrom, with a blow from his tail flukes for the one, and his fist for the other, that knocks the two of them back down. He beams at Meriel and Martin. "I would remain still." Ostrom says, turning his attention to the two cowed prisoners. "All right." Asawaran Jystine says, holding up a hand. "You have all made a point. Now what will you do?" Martin raises an eyebrow and lets Meriel decide this one. "We need information from you," says Meriel, glancing at Martin, "about what brought your people to this place, and what you desire here. Be advised that you should speak honestly - believe me, this was just a sample of what we could achieve should we wish to do so." Her glance invites Martin to add more if her wishes. In the background, Ostegos starts walking around the Meriel-mounted manta, making a slow clockwise orbit around it. His head continuously readjusts so that it is focused on Jystine. "Information" the knight says. Her gaze follows Meriel's, to Martin, to see if he will amend or add to Meriel's request. Martin nods. "You'd be suprised what we know already. But I'd like to hear you actually say it: where do you all come from, where are you going, why are you doing it, and maybe what you're supposed to do if you run into somebody named Jayson." "I come from the Citadel of our Autarch, in the seas of another world where we rule." the Knight replies. "We were given a vision and access from the seas of our home to this new hunting ground--where, much to my sorrow and misfortune, I have come to ruin in encountering you." Her gaze encompasses Meriel, Martin, Godfrey and Ostrom. "And as to the name you have asked me of, do you mean Jahson?" Jystine adds, changing the pronunciation of the first syllable to a more softer h sound. "He who the Prophet Luthargo said to a select few would come in his footsteps?" At this, there is a cry from Taymour. "Milady!" he shouts, his voice thunderous across the water. "I tried to keep that name from them, when they asked me of the Prophet and his doings." "Lost" Yahya says. "Speaking more would mean the Great Work is lost." He appears to be weeping in his knelt position. "That's one of the problems with prophets and Scripture," Martin says. "It's hard to try and keep secrets when you're trying to spread the word and get more converts. I figured cousin Jayson would be somehow involved in this. But more the other way around." Meriel lifts an eyebrow in Martin's direction. "You really must tell me more about Cousin Jayson," she says, "when we have a minute. But for the moment ... " She turns back towards the Knight. "Tell us more of this Great Work," she instructs. The Knight ignores Martin and continues to bore her gaze on Meriel. "And if we refuse, you will cause harm to my steed, my fellow citizens or myself, I take it?" Jystine says. "From the tone of your voice, the clear call of command, you are not offering me a choice or asking me in a courteous fashion." Her eyes flash. "No" she says. She points at Meriel. "You will NOT command me. Defeat me in single combat, or else quit this field as the honor-less chum you are." Martin sighs. "And there we are," he says to Meriel. "Whatever got us here, now we have a choice of paths. Either beat her and work at a solution from the inside, or pack up and see if we can't steer their little Shadow off into a desert or a salt plain or something." "Well, I can defeat her," says Meriel calmly. "It wouldn't be very sporting, though. But if it's what she wishes, it can be done. And working from the inside is usually the easiest way. We may be able to move this Shadow aside, but we might lose information that would be invaluable to the King." Jystine crosses her arms and looks balefully at Meriel and Martin. "I estimate, based on an assessment of your abilities, Meriel..." Godfrey's gears audibly start whirring again. "a 90.9 percent probability of defeating her in single combat." Godfrey offers. "The 9.1 percent chance of not defeating her represents the possibility that she has unrevealed abilities that would tip the match in her favor." "I am willing to accept those odds," says Meriel immediately and without hesitation. She glances at Martin. "Are you?" Martin bows once. "I would not presume to tell you no," he says. "It's a shame that it broke this way, but I understand." "And your choice of weapon?" the knight calls. "Let us be about this." "Lady Jystine's anxiety and hurried state is notable, Martin." Godfrey observes. "Perhaps she thinks we are delaying her in order for reinforcements to arrive?" "That's good thinking on her part," Martin says, not at all ready to give away that no reinforcements are arriving. "Then again, the same thing might happen from her side. Either way, I'm not trying to delay anything." He looks over to Meriel. "I'll fight with trident and net," says Meriel, managing to sound easily confident. If her voice quivers a little, it could be attributed to the currents of the water. "Trident and net!" she calls out more strongly, her eyes on the Lady Jystine. "So be it!" Jystine cries in response. "Trident and net, to the yield!" Holding out both of her hands, Jystine does not appear to conjure a trident and net in her hands. Instead, the way her fingers waggle in the water, it looks like she pulls them from Elsewhere. So armed, she levels the trident in Meriel's direction. Martin reaches down and digs his hand into the silt of the ocean floor, absolutely sure that there's a trident and net in the mud left by some recent body that, by some miracle, is still in good condition. The weapons, that is, not the corpse. The skeleton that Martin finds in short order has been cleaned by a variety of aquatic organisms, and is in point of fact not much more than a skeleton. The trident that it holds, and the weighted net are in much better shape, showing no signs of decay whatsoever. "Trickery, to know where to dig for weapons." Jystine sniffs disdainfully. "Magic" Ostrom breathes aloud, a cloud of bubbles punctuating his single,drawn out word. Godfrey remains vigilant, and silent. Martin frowns as he hands the weapons over to Meriel, ignoring the mud sloughing off of them. "I wouldn't have had to, if you hadn't played the 'I don't think I like how you talk to me' card. And while we're on the subject, you didn't just pull your own weapons out of your butt. The stick would've gotten in the way." Jystine snarls back at Martin. "You may have earned yourself a challenge once this one is done." She then purposefully turns her gaze away from Martin and firmly on Meriel Meriel looks at Martin with wide, innocent eyes as she holds out her hands for the weapons. Then she moves, skimming lightly over the sand to approach Jystine. "Do you wish to delineate boundaries first?" she asks, twirling the net experimentally to get a feel for the weft and warp of it - and also to shake out the folds that it may have been pressed into under the sand. "Yes." Jystine says. "From here to the surface. I will draw the circle." Her eyes warily looking at Martin, Ostrom, and Godfrey, Jystine takes her trident and in the sands of the bottom starts to draw a circle. In the meantime, Meriel discovers that both trident and net are in good condition, and remarkably well balanced. Even if Martin has not been in Rebma on a long term basis for a while, he does apparently remember the basics of Rebman weaponry. The circle which Jystine draws proves to be about 31 meters around, or 10 meters across. The circle originally included the spot where Ostrom was watching the two captives. He shifts with a flick of his tail so that he is outside of the boundary. "Here is where we shall fight." Jystine declares. She takes a position one third of the way across the circle from the edge farthest Meriel and waits. Martin swims past Meriel, his back to Jystine, on his way out of the circle. He gives her a smile and the slightest wink on the way out. Meriel returns his smile, and then turns her attention to Jystine. She lifts into the water slightly, performing a complex manoeuvre (known among the cognoscenti in such matters as "the hump-backed whale greets the morning". It lands her on her feet in the circle, weapons held in a business-like manner, and with all the possible cricks stretched out of her system. "Shall we begin?" she asks cheerfully. "Very well" the knight replies. She strikes the sea bottom with the butt of her trident, once, sharply, and then starts stalking around the perimeter of the dueling circle, net tensely held in the left hand, and the trident leveled toward Meriel in her right hand. Ostrom and Godfrey join Martin just outside the circle, and it emerges that Yahya and Taymour, moving slowly and carefully, manage to do so as well. In the opening moments of the contest, Jystine's probes are met cautiously and conservatively by Meriel. Feints are exchanged on both sides, both the knight and the daughter of Mirelle assessing the other's strength with care and concern. Martin, Godfrey, Yahya, Taymour and Ostrom can watch the flash of the tines of both tridents, and threatened releases of the nets on both ends. Throughout all of this, Meriel and Jystine remain on the sea bottom. Meriel reverses this suddenly, with brutal quickness. Jystine, starting to press an attack finds Meriel responding by taking the conflict upward, into a third dimension. Jystine proves to be hesitant, and even a bit clumsy when she attempts to follow Meriel and engage her in that third physical dimension. This proves to be the hook, as it were, when blood is spilled. Meriel is quick, ruthless and lightning fast, using her superior mobility against Jystine. The times that Jystine manages to score even glancing blows against Meriel shows that she has strength equal to anyone Meriel has met, but the Rebman is considerably more mobile, being able to strike from any direction. Meriel is confident, as the blood rises within her, and the fight continues, that she is destined to beat the Knight. It would take an enormous error on Meriel's part to allow Jystine to get the upper hand. The question, then, becomes, of how ruthless Meriel wishes to be in prosecuting this conflict to its conclusion. Martin stays outside the circle, watching with a bird-like intensity, but doesn't move and doesn't speak. Meriel ends it suddenly, with the net flashing through the water and entangling Jystine in its folds, rendering Jystine's weapon useless. Indeed, Meriel's superiority in three-dimensional fighting allows her to catch the knight. Jystine does try one wild throw of the trident, but it, too, winds up bottled in the encompassing net. Slender fingers try to break the net, but to no avail. She is strong, but not strong *enough* "You fight well," says Meriel judiciously, "but you lack experience in this medium. I could give you some tips ... oh, I should say first - do you yield to me?" Eyes glare at Meriel for several more defiant and unrepentant moments. Again, the fingers try to find a way to get herself and her weapon free of the net. The net, however, is too strong. And, so Jystine gives up the effort. "Yes, by the dark currents. I, Jystine, Asawaran Jystine, Knight Errant in the service of the Autarch, yield to you, companion and champion to Prince Martin. "What will you of me now? Tell you all that I know of the Prophet? Slay me like a dolphin?"
rank, only that she had the blood of Amber and Rebma. No wonder she was uppity with Meriel! ["And in this corner, the Masked Rebman!"] "I'd like to hear about this Prophet," Martin says to Meriel. "But, of course, she didn't yield to me." "No," says Meriel. "She yielded to me, Meriel of Rebma, daughter of Princess Mirelle of Amber. And I accept this." "More royalty" Jystine says neutrally. She pulls the knife from her boot - a flash of the wicked blade, and Jystine is free from the cords of the net that holds her. Her descent into a standing, bowing position is not quite as graceful as Meriel would do it, but well enough especially given the circumstances. "Your fate is not to die like a dolphin ... do you really slay dolphins? They are actually rather good company on long treks you know, although their sense of humour can be a little infantile at times ... Anyway, I'm not going to slay you - not now, and not at any time unless you vex me. You will, however, tell me of the Prophet and of the Autarch and what their plans are." There is one more soft wordless cry from Yahya and Taymour. A glance from Jystine stills the two of them, both in word and in deed. "Now" she says, turning to look at Meriel. "I will tell you what you ask." "A year ago, a holy man came to the Citadel, with golden skin and golden eyes. Luthargo, his name was. He said he was the emissary of the Hierophant Jayson, emissary of the God of Light. Luthargo prophesied many things, and these prophecies came true. Thus, my lord the Autarch took him into his councils, and he waxed in power and influence." "One day, Luthargo, perhaps because of the wealth and power he had gained, said that he had to depart, much to the dismay of my lord and those of the Citadel. He said that the Hierophant had vouchsafed him, and us, two final gifts. The first was a new trod, which led from the oceans of our world to a world we had never reached before now." "This world" Jystine spits into the water. "which has laid me so low." Meriel sighs. "Put not your trust in emissaries of prophets. Did you ever hear the one about the Empress preparing for battle against a great and mighty Emperor? She consulted a Prophet who cast the grains and told her that a great Empire would fall that day. It did ... but it was her own. She lost the battle. These prophecies, you see, frequently turn round and bite you on the ... oh never mind. Continue." Jystine stares at Meriel a moment before continuing. "Luthargo's second gift was the promise us that, one day soon, the Hierophant himself would come to the Citadel, to help lead our people to even greater glory. To bring a cleansing light to shine upon and burn all those who oppose us." "Without pausing to teach you elementary aquatic combat," murmurs Meriel. "Yes. Well." She glances at Martin - a look as eloquent as words ... Jayson is your business ... "I don't know what's doing more damage," Martin says. "The Oompa-loompas, or Jayson. From without, or within." He turns to the knight. "And this new world here you discovered, have you also noticed that the waters... change? That you're moving from one 'new world' to the next?" "Yes, of course." Jystine says. "The islands above, are different than the waters around the Citadel. The skies at night are, too, different. And even if I did not deign to surface to see the skies, I would know this is a different ocean. There is too much copper in the salts of the waters here, as compared to home. I can taste it on my tongue. This is a different world." "Copper ions have a molar composition of 0.1 moles per kilogram." Godfrey prompts. "Sixth in salt ions behind Chlorine, Sodium, Magnesium, Sulfate and Calcium." "I don't know what any of that means." Ostrom says "However, we pride ourselves on the taste of the salt here. As do the humans on the island." Martin has the slightest of smiles. "The worlds aren't moving around you. You're moving through the worlds. Adrift, like a ship without an anchor. Where do you think you're headed?" Meriel listens with interest but does not, as yet, say anything. Confusion crosses Jystine's features as Martin speaks. She gives a glance at the impassive Meriel, and then looks back at Martin again when enlightenment is not immediately forthcoming. "To a city, larger than even the citadel, at the bottom of a sea" Jystine says, as if by rote. "A city that sits on a seamount, a city that is itself only a stepping stone to a equal city on the land above, both awaiting the faithful to come and rule." "So it has been said in one of the prophecies." Jystine says. Martin doesn't answer Jystine directly, but instead turns to Meriel. "You know who Jayson is, right? I haven't seen him since Paris. I don't know whether we're cleaning up a mess here, or he's back and we're preventing another." "I've heard of him," says Meriel cautiously. "Do you think ... he's still around?" "Information on the fate of Jayson is of poor quality and limited." Godfrey says, without prompting. "Jayson's final confrontation with the Elder God Apollo at the Parisian Pattern may have resulted in a partial apotheosis on Jayson's part rather than the presumed mutual destruction and severance of Corwin's universe from our own." [Meriel] turns to Jystine. "At all events, you've been listening to a false prophet. The rulers in the great sea city wouldn't be terribly happy with someone coming and trying to take over. They have a huge army of warriors like me. No, strike that. Warriors who are *better* than me. And the city above the waves ... well, that's even worse. I think we all need to have a talk about this." Jystine looks shocked. "These people would oppose us? It does not await the arrival of the true and promised owners, to be ruled by the People?" she says, stunned. Out of the corner of their eyes, Martin and Meriel can see that Yahya and Taymour are equally stunned and confused. "You fly your little Shadow into Rebma or Amber, and someone's going to take it upon themselves to destroy it," Martin says. "If you don't know how to slow it down or stop it or divert it, you'll never make it there. That, I know." "No...no. You dissemble. You must." Jystine says fiercely. Meriel shakes her head. "Someone has plans for you," she says sadly, "but as shark fodder. They send you out ... against foes so powerful they are beyond your comprehension. And they neglect to teach you even the basics of undersea fighting skills." To add emphasis to her point she does the dive of the jagged tooth eel - although omitting the final ripping of an enemy's throat. It's a nice move - her old friends in Rebma would have said an admiring, "Splashy!" and, she feels, as she drifts back down, it makes the point. Yahya and Taymour stare at Meriel throughout her maneuver, just as Jystine does. For that matter, Godfrey watches with a keen eye (or the equivalent thereof) and Ostrom is entranced by the display. "They would just destroy you," she says. "But, why would the Prophet lie? Or was he lied to?" Taymour squeaks out. "Why would he have us die at the hands of your city?" he says to Martin and Meriel. Martin starts to say something, then stops. "Hubris," he says finally. "That's all. Jayson probably thought he could take the city anyway. Which was a mistake on his part, whether or not he wanted to admit it. The last I saw," he says, giving Godfrey a please-don't-argue-with-me look, "Jayson was trapped, a very very long way from here. Permanently, I hope. Either way, he's not helping you out." Godfrey says nothing. "Perhaps," suggests Meriel, in the same tone of helpfulness, "we could come and speak to your leader. Sort out some peace treaties. That sort of thing. Together with our highly skilled envoy from the local leaders." She indicates Ostrom. Ostrom's look of surprise lasts a moment or two, and then he calms down. "Of course." he says imperiously and graciously. "I am a designated representative of Clan Wettin and can negotiate on their behalf. "I cannot detect any falsehood in what you have said. Unless you can disguise the truth beyond even my ken." she says, looking at Martin and Meriel. "Perhaps" Jystine says, exhaling a steam of bubbles. "an audience with the Autarch would be in order. Now, perhaps?" "If that is what the Lady wishes..." Taymour adds dubiously. Yahya, on the other hand, nods eagerly. Meriel flashes a glance at Martin. He can see that she would be happy enough to accept - but is happy to follow his lead as to whether, and if so, under what conditions. Martin is silent a moment, and then turns to Jystine. "We'll accept your word for safe passage to your realm and back here. All of us." Jystine looks at Martin and Meriel for a silent few moments. Her eyes do briefly shift in the direction of her two countrymen, Ostrom and Godfrey. "All of you." she says. Jystine pauses for a moment. "If my countrymen be freed if not necessarily rearmed, by my word and my honor, I will give all of you safe passage to and from the Citadel of the Autarch, from this spot on the side of the Rift." Martin finds it's time to nod back at Meriel. "That sounds good enough to me." "And to me," agrees Meriel. "Then it shall be done." Jystine says. "Yehya, Taymour, attend me." "Ostrom, will you be able to breathe that water unaided?" [Meriel] "Water is water." Ostrom says. "And it must be said, if these raiders can breathe the waters of their realm and those of the Clans, it stands to reason and logic that I would be able to breathe there as well." "I consider it a less than 3% probability that there will be difficulties." Godfrey puts in. "The differing salt concentrations do not seem to be a significant barrier to respiration." "The Rite is another matter." Ostrom says. "We may need to renew it, if we are to travel to the oceans of another world. I know not if the enchantment I laid upon the two of you will hold when we cross the rift." "We will find out, I suppose," says Meriel easily. The prospect, certainly does not seem to alarm her unduly. "I'm ready," Martin says, "If it has to be done on the other side, then it has to be done." Backlinks |
