"It means he's a criminal," said the half-ore, "and he's been banished from the city."
"Aye," said the captain. "The kind of man who gives respectable criminals a bad name."
The tattooed man walked farther into the room, around several of the prostrate dwarfs.
"Bow to Ras Nsi," he bellowed. "I command you."
"We are the officers of Expatriate, the scourge of the Shining Sea," Clay shouted back. "We take commands from no one."
The tattooed man raised his hands in the air and began chanting. His voice grew deeper, echoing off the basalt walls, doubling then redoubling as it built upon itself. Then he bit off his last word, throwing his arms out to his sides.
The shadows seemed to coalesce, unhitching themselves from the basalt and wrapping themselves around the pale, tattooed man. His body began to grow, changing shape. His head lifted toward the top of the cavern. His arms extended, turning long and wispy, unfolding and unfolding again until they looked like the sails of a pirate ship. And his fingers grew sharp, transforming into wicked-looking claws.
The man claiming to be Ras Nsi transformed completely into a skeletal, undead dragon. Clay swallowed hard.
"That's a pretty good trick for a guy four thousand years old," said the captain.
The undead dragon clawed at the ground once, and opened it skeletal mouth with a screech. Jags of lightning shot from the creature's open jaw, banishing the remaining shadows with an eerie blue-white light.
All four pirates scattered, diving to the deck. Clay felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as the magical bolts struck the wall just over his head and ricocheted toward the ceiling. The magical energies bounced back and forth between two stalactites, and bits of broken stone crumbled to the floor.
A loud snap filled the chamber, and Clay looked up to see the larger of the two stalactites shake once then plummet toward him. Kicking his feet over his head, the pirate captain rolled backward. Coming to his feet, Clay hurled himself against the cavern wall, trying to make his body as small as possible.
The tip of the stalactite impacted the floor, just where Clay had been lying. The stone shelf collapsed under the weight, and the inverted mountaintop slipped sideways into the molten lake. Toppling to one side, the broken end of the stalactite crashed down atop the hardened lava island right beside the dragon's egg.
The other three pirates got to their feet, and so too did the wild dwarves.
"We'll never take 'em lads," shouted the captain.
With that, Clay jumped on the fallen stalactite and made for the other side as if he were running across a boarding plank. The blackened stone hadn't fully come to rest, and it shifted as the captain crossed it. Used to the shifting movement of the ocean, Clay took one more step then leaped over the lake of lava toward the island at its center. For a brief moment, the pirate captain hung in the air, his legs suspended over nothing but instant burning death. Then his toe touched down, and he dived forward, clawing at the solid rock.
The sharp pumice tore at his hands and shredded his pantaloons, but the tiny island was stable, and he wasn't sinking into the lava. Scrambling to his feet, he moved away from the edge and turned to help his mates.
Tabor and Hadar were already across the makeshift boarding plank. The dwarf leaped off, tumbling once then coming to his feet with a practiced flair. The half-ore was less dramatic, but his strong legs hurled him over the molten lake without much difficulty.
Mansa, however, was a different story.
The first mate had lost his balance, and he clung to the side of the slowly sinking stalactite. Right behind him, the wild dwarves had made it to the edge and were beginning to climb onto the stone bridge.
Without blinking, Clay jumped back onto the perilous basalt column.
"Hadar, Tabor, grab hold of this end."
The dwarf and the half-ore did as they were told.
With two great bounding leaps, Clay was at his first mate's side. With one hand he grabbed the back of Mansa's tunic. With the other, he hurled one of his daggers at the first of the oncoming wild dwarves.
The mangy little creature took the blade in the chest and reeled back, falling into the next dwarf and blocking the path.
With Clay's help, Mansa managed to get to his knees.
"Good enough," said the captain.
Turning around, Clay charged back toward the island, the egg, and his two other mates, partially dragging Mansa behind him.
"Shove it in," he shouted.
Hadar and Tabor didn't hesitate. Both men leaned in and pushed the stalactite with all of their might. The column made a brief grinding sound, then the end that had landed on the island came free.
Clay pulled Mansa forward and shouted, "Jump, you swabbie."
He hurled himself once again over the bubbling lake of lava. One instant he was in midair, the next he was crashing into Tabor and flopping to the ground.
Mansa had a similar landing, smashing into the solid, outstretched arms of the half-ore.
Without the support of the island the fallen stalactite turned sideways and slipped completely under the scorching lava. Those wild dwarves still standing on it fell in as well, trashing momentarily then dissolving in a cone of flame and smoke.
Clay got to his feet.
"Come on you swabs," shouted the captain "Grab the booty and get back to the ship." He looked out over the lava at the fuming dracolich. "This is a fight we can't win."
The four sailors lifted the dragon's egg off the ritualistic semicircle and carried it through the tunnel at the far end of the chamber. As they disappeared into darkness, Clay could hear the undead dragon let out a howling roar.
The egg was heavy, and it slowed their progress through the tunnel. Tabor led the way, shouting commands back to his comrades. With their prize between them it was easy enough to stay together. The four pirates ran and ran, the tunnel getting smaller and smaller the farther they went.
Around a final corner, they could see the sunlight coming in from the mouth of the lava tube. As fast as they could with the egg between them, the pirates finally made it out into the light of day. The sun's bright rays were beginning to go down.
"Let's just hope there's enough sun left in this day to save the rest of the crew," Clay said as he headed toward the thick brush. "Into the jungle."
Bowling blindly through the trees, the pirates ran with all of their might. Slowly the trees and vegetation became less dense, and the dying light of the setting sun became brighter. With a final few steps, the pirates flung their weary bodies out of the jungle and onto the beach.
Out in the open, a huge dark cloud passed over them, and all four stopped dead in their tracks, dropping the
egg-Standing before them, its unfurled wings nearly blotting out the sunlight, was the undead dragon. "No one steals from Ras Nsi," said the hulking
beast.
The undead dragon swept its wings forward and opened its jaw again, preparing to shoot lightning at the helpless sailors.
Clay reached for one of his daggers, but his fingers grasped an empty bandoleer, and he felt the pit of his stomach sink as if it were a boulder into the deep.. Behind the dragon, he could just make out the silhouette of Expatriate. That ship had been good to him. Hed miss it.
Just then the wind picked up. The palm fronds on the trees behind them began to whistle, and the sand swept back and forth in the turbulent air. The undead dragon looked around wildly, searching the sky and the beach.
"Look," shouted Mansa, pointing to the sky.
Clay followed the first mate's finger to see a yellow-orange blur streaking toward the beach.