He and the end of the rope continued to fall past the kraken's bulk. Raidon kicked backward desperately, trying to flail his open hand toward the rope's end before its length played out. The braided hemp of the rope slapped across his palm. Not an instant too soon—

The slack in the rope gave out. Raidon's plunge jerked to an arm-wrenching stop. White fire blossomed in his shoulder, forearm, and fingers, pulling a scream from him. But he didn't let go. Angul wouldn't allow him that luxury.

The monk dangled at the cord's end like a cat toy displayed for the kraken's play. Angul whispered in his mind, Draw the beast in. I will end its aberrant life.

Gethshemeth hovered in the dank air, midway between Raidon, who now hung below it, and the barnacled keel of Green Siren above. The tiny heads of several crew appeared over the railing, their eyes wide with fear.

Lure it down to us, Angul urged.

Raidon complied. He concentrated on his spellscar. The Sign of his adopted order pulsed. Shafts of cerulean light lanced the kraken's bulk. Where the light touched Gethshemeth, its skin seared and smoked.

The creature pirouetted in the air, a motion made obscene by the creature's unnatural bulk moving so delicately.

It turned its full attention.to Raidon.

Angul fed more energy to the monk. New strength rippled through the half-elf s muscles, starting in his hand and spreading quickly through the rest of his body.

When it reached his chest, his Sign responded with another pulse of radiance that needled the tentacled hulk anew.

Gethshemeth roared. Like branches in a tornado, its arms lashed wildly as it dropped on Raidon.

The monk's eyes were riveted on the tentacle bearing the grotesque blinking tumor. Even as he was caught up and squeezed, he focused past the sound of bones breaking in his chest and legs.

He called on his Sign and the sword and surged forward, struggling through the battering, squeezing arms. A swing of the Blade Cerulean, and the misshapen nodule spurted free. Greenish purple ichor geysered, and all the eyes pocking the growth rotated in their sockets as one, attempting to fix Raidon with their mismatched gaze.

Some kind of fell influence lived in those eyes... but gravity pulled the severed pod down and away too quickly.

Gethshemeth's tentacles spasmed and released Raidon. The monk clung to the supporting rope.

The creature's mouth opened wide. It was horribly akin to a human's but much larger. A noise like a baby's wail issued from it, sending prickles up Raidon's scalp.

Even as Angul's influence began to reknit Raidon's damaged bones and sinews, Gethshemeth shrugged its colossal tentacles. It coughed out three arcane syllables. The great kraken's outline turned fuzzy and uncertain, and then it was gone. Air fell into the space the kraken's bulk had occupied, creating a final thunderclap.

Raidon hung alone beneath the floating hull of Green Siren.

Monk and sword voiced a simultaneous shout of fury. Gethshemeth had fled. You were not fast enough again, Angul chided. Had I made contact, I would have prevented it from displacing. Instead of arguing, the monk meditated on his Sign. Both the sword and the Sign were tools created by the ancient order of Keepers. But the Sign was pure, Angul was tainted. With the Sign's strength, he carefully disentangled the sword's wants and desires from his own.

He finally gathered the will to sheathe Angul. It burned and shook, but was rendered powerless.

Raidon wound an arm and his upper body into the hawser so that he no longer had to support all his weight with just one or even two hands.

He rested, swaying gently in empty space. He was content for the moment to be alone in the dark air and to study the vast facade of Xxiphu. The runes and relief sculpture slowly crept across the primeval structure's face.

The many openings remained empty of activity, though some glowed with the faintest hint of purplish light.

Other than the slithering inscriptions, he detected no movement or sound. The half-elf was grateful the city appeared to be, at least on its exterior, asleep.

Appearances could be deceiving, he knew. His Sign, born of an ancient Seal, tingled with constant feedback.

Aberrations were moving inside Xxiphu.

The rope jerked. He glanced up. Even more heads craned over the railing where his lifeline connected. He heard Thoster shout something, then many hands began to haul on the rope.

When Raidon was back on deck, the captain clapped him on the shoulder. "You're crazy. But you saved my ship."

"Yes. But Gethshemeth escaped again."

"Ho! But you put the fear in it! It won't cow us again with its size and power. That's the last we'll see of that beast, I warrant." An unnatural glee possessed Thoster. His smile seemed too bright to Raidon. A sheen of sweat glistened on the captain's forehead.

"Are you fevered?" Raidon asked.

The captain said, "Aren't we all?" The man turned to see to his crew.

Worry wrinkled the monk's brow, but other concerns pressed far harder.

"Seren, how goes the navigation?" he called.

The wizard had stopped Green Siren's rotation sometime during his brief exchange with Gethshemeth. Raidon saw the blank look of concentration on the woman's face— probably a mirror of his expression as he'd guided the ship's descent through the earth.

After a few moments, Seren replied, "We're moving. It took me awhile to figure out how to get the gleamtails to rise, they'd rather sink. But I've got it now."

Raidon realized the ship was indeed increasing its altitude, albeit slowly. Moreover, the gallery he'd earlier pointed out to Seren was noticeably closer.

"YouVe done well," he said.

He moved to the ship's bow. The city's horrid face loomed larger. The writhing inscriptions didn't bear looking on for too long, so he found himself constantly flicking his eyes away. He couldnt discern if the shapes were actually moving, or if their convoluted shapes merely suggested animation.

Finally they reached the gallery.

The massive cavity engulfed the ship. A shelf along the interior side was hollowed with several secondary tunnels— some so small a human would have a hard time crawling into them, and one so large the ship could have almost fit down it. The light of the gleamtails threw golden and reddish highlights off the dark stone. A smell akin to rotting fish enfolded them. The odor was mixed with other spices Raidon couldn't identify.

"Tie up!" yelled Thoster. Several crew members grabbed up coiled ropes, but only stared nervously at the dark stone platform that had to serve as their pier. None moved to comply.

Seren said, "The gleamtail jacks will maintain Green Siren in this position, even if I leave the ritual circle."

"I'm sure," said the captain, implying by his tone that he was anything but confident. "I wager it'll do no harm to tie up as well, eh?"

Seren shrugged.

Raidon leaped over the side onto the platform. The air was moist and suffused with tiny particles of light. He walked the shelf from one end to the other, avoiding stone columns that speckled the floor. When it was apparent that monstrous creatures were not beating a path from the tunnels to swarm him, the crew clambered over the ship's side to join him. They tied up Green Siren using some of the larger columns as bollards.

"What now?" said the captain, his eyes almost eager. "We move into the city and discover its heart," said Raidon. "We need to find the creature from which the Dreamheart was carved. If fate is kind, we'll find it before its progeny wake it. Somewhere in this massive structure, aboleths are singing to rouse their father. We must find that chamber and kill the children before the parent can open the rest of its eyes. If destiny is on our side, perhaps we may even hope Angul can slay the Eldest as it sleeps defenseless."