Karrell’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m looking for—”
“Disturbance three hands to starboard, two thousand four hundred paces ahead!” the lookout shouted, interrupting her. This time, his high-pitched voice had an edge to it.
The riverboat turned a few degrees back to port, and slowed still more. Karrell glanced in the direction the lookout was pointing, a slight frown on her face.
Arvin touched her arm—and felt her move into his touch. “What are you looking for?” he prompted.
“Something that was entrusted to the people of Hlondeth many years ago. It—”
“Disturbance one hand to starboard, one thousand paces ahead!” the sailor shouted.
The riverboat slowed momentarily then picked up speed and turned sharply to port.
“Yes?” Arvin prompted.
Karrell opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted a third time.
“Disturbance dead ahead, four hundred paces!”
Arvin glanced up as the lookout repeated his cry, his voice breaking. “Disturbance dead ahead!” he shouted at the guards. “Something’s breaking the surface!”
Arvin glanced back at the guards. They stood tensely behind their crossbows, fingers on triggers as their eyes searched the river ahead. The merchant, the husband, and the wife milled uncertainly on the main deck. At the stern, the elf and barrel-chested sailor awaited the captain’s orders. The elf’s hands were raised, ready to redirect the wind. The captain glanced back and forth between the low island—much closer now—and the bubbling patch of water, his face twisted with indecision. At last he gave an order; the sailor responded instantly, leaning into the tiller.
The boat heeled sharply to port, causing Karrell to stumble. She blinked, gave Arvin a sharp d, and took a quick step back from him, withdrawing her arm from his hand. The charm Arvin had manifested on her seemed to have broken. “What is happening?” she asked, glancing warily around.
“I don’t know,” Arvin answered. “But I don’t think it’s goo—”
“Naga!” the teenaged lookout shrilled. “Gods save us, it’s a naga!”
“This far north?” the captain shouted. “Are you sure?”
The lookout mutely nodded, white-faced. Arvin stared at the spot he was pointing at—a frothing patch of water a few dozen paces to starboard. A serpent-like creature had risen from the center of it. The creature looked like an enormous green eel with blood-red spines running the length of its body. Its head was human-shaped, its face plastered with wet, kelp-green hair that hung dripping from its scalp. Its eyes were dark and malevolent as it stared at the riverboat.
“Shoot it!” the captain shouted.
Arvin heard a twang as the gray-haired guard loosed a crossbow bolt. In that same instant, the naga withdrew under the surface of the water with astonishing speed. Even as the bolt plunged into the river, the naga was gone, leaving only a spreading circle of lapping waves behind.
A moment later, over the shouting of the crew, Arvin heard a loud thud as something struck the underside of the hull. The boat canted sharply up, its stern leaving the water entirely, throwing Arvin and Karrell together into the point of the bow. Timbers groaned as the boat was forced upward by the naga rearing up beneath it; Arvin heard wood splintering as the tiller was torn away. Something splashed into the water near the stern, and someone amidships screamed—either the wife or the merchant, he wasn’t sure. From above came the crack-voiced, terrified prayers of the lookout.
Then the stern slammed back down into the water. The riverboat rocked violently from side to side, water sloshing over the gunwales and its sail wildly flapping. A wave nearly carried Arvin’s pack over the side. As he grabbed for it, he heard Karrell whispering urgently in her own language. From behind them came the shouts of the captain and the terrified screams of the other passengers.
A thud came from the starboard side as the naga rammed the boat a second time. The riverboat rolled sharply to port, a yardarm brushing the water. The lookout screamed as his swing-seat cracked like a whip, throwing him into the water. Clinging to the rail, Arvin heard thumps and curses as the other crew and passengers tumbled across the now-vertical deck, and a groan and cracking noises as the mast struck the water. Karrell flew past him and fell headlong into the river; Arvin shouted her name as she sank from sight. Then something hit him from behind, and he was underwater.
The first thing he noticed was the water’s terrible chill; it would have taken his breath away had there been any air in his lungs. The second was the fact 1 hat the strap of his pack was loosely tangled around his left wrist. Clinging to it, he fought his way back to the surface in time to see the deck of the riverboat rushing down at him. It slammed into his face, tearing open his cheek and forcing him under again.
When he came up for the second time, he tasted blood on his lips; warm blood was flowing down his cheek. Karrell was treading water nearby. “Are you all right?” Arvin shouted.
