"No!" The dead thing slapped and massaged at itself, still walking, still uncomfortable.

"Then burn." Iakhovas started to walk away.

"Wait," the dead thing whined.

Laaqueel watched as the dead thing dug down into the lime ashes and found a small bottle. The dead thing tossed it up to Iakhovas.

Stretching out a hand, Iakhovas said a word. Instantly the lime-encrusted bottle stopped, hovering above and not quite touching his palm. He took out a cloth from his cloak with his other hand, then wrapped it around the bottle and put it away without getting burned.

"I've done what you asked of me, wizard," the dead thing said, wrapping its arms around itself and rocking with the pain. "Where is my release?"

Iakhovas gestured and spoke.

Immediately the dead thing disappeared in a cloud of whirling white lime.

Iakhovas replaced the stone slab that covered the hole. "Come, little malenti," he growled in anticipation, "we've tarried here long enough." He turned and strode back down the passageway in the direction they'd come, the glowing globe keeping pace with him.

Still unnerved by her experience and not wanting to confront any undead in the tight tunnel by herself, Laaqueel hurried after her master.

As the horses and wagon tumbled the eight or ten feet to the black harbor water, Jherek gathered himself and dived from the horse's back. He plummeted toward the water and hit it cleanly, going under at once. Kicking out, he swam for the thrashing horses, aware of the sahuagin and the other sea creatures filling the water around him. Some of them changed course and headed for him.

He shoved the hook in the sash around his waist and closed on the horses with his sword. Grabbing the traces, he dragged the heavy sword blade across them, parting the leather in seconds. One of the horses swam away, but the other gave in to the wounds the sahuagin had inflicted on it and went still in the water.

Turning his attention back to the wagon, Jherek gratefully saw that it was tight enough at the sideboards and light enough to float-at least for the moment. Still, if the powder kegs had gotten too wet, Khlinat's plan wouldn't work.

The young sailor kicked out and swam to the wagon ahead of a pair of sahuagin. He grabbed the side with his empty hand and expertly pulled his weight aboard without tipping the wagon over. Sonshal worked among the kegs, stuffing fuses into their lids. The slow match coiled over his shoulder glowed orange more brightly when he blew on it to get the coal at its hottest.

Jherek dripped on the wagon. Two inches of water swirled around his boots as the impromptu craft took on water like a sieve. "We don't have much time," he told Sonshal.

"I'm aware of that, boy," the man said, "but if these fuses aren't measured off properly and cut right, we're not going to get the effect your friend is wanting."

Jherek glanced around. "Where is he?" He had to shout over the screams and hoarse yells of sailors and the men on the docks.

"I don't know." Sonshal took a brief respite to boot a sahuagin who was trying to climb onto the wagon, knocking the sea devil back into the water. "I lost sight of him when we hit the water and barely managed to stay with the wagon myself." He poked another fuse into the next barrel.

Concerned, Jherek peered into the water, uncertain if he'd see the dwarf for sure. Too many warring shades of light and darkness overlapped the dark harbor water, turning it alternately into a bright, reflective surface or into a dark and depthless one. Men died quickly out there, on sahuagin claws or tridents, broken and torn apart by the great creatures that had been summoned from the river.

A hand broke the surface only a few feet away.

Jherek reached out and caught the hand, then balanced his weight on the wagon as he took on the dwarfs weight and pulled him from the water. Khlinat's face was masked with fresh blood mixed with water that ran quickly down his chin and throat. He blew his nose noisily and freed his hand axes. Bellowing curses, the peg-legged dwarf hurled himself at their foes.

Jherek defended the other side, keeping the sea devils from Sonshal's back and from the wagon. He ignored the fatigue that filled him, and the throbbing pain that came from the laceration by his eye. In his mind, he imagined Malorrie there, guiding his hand by voice control.

"It's done!" Sonshal roared in warning. "Get overboard!" He dived over himself, setting the example. Khlinat hit the water next.

Jherek took a final glance over his shoulder and watched the smoke streaming from the fuses tucked securely in the powder kegs. He didn't know if the dwarfs plan was going to work, but he knew nothing else that would either. He said a prayer to Ilmater and leaped as sahuagin pulled themselves up into the wagon where water was already halfway up the barrels.

Jherek went deep, swimming for the bottom of the harbor. Khlinat had said he'd seen men use small amounts of the smoke powder to fish with. With the explosions, the concussive force rippled through the water and overloaded the sensitive lateral lines that ran the length of a fish's body, stunning the creatures. Since sahuagin were reputed to have lateral lines as well, which made them so deadly in their home territory, the dwarf had hoped the blast would have the same effect.

Traveling through the water, the sound of the detonations came in rapid succession to Jherek's ears. He held his breath tightly, knowing the blast force would only be a second or two after.

A heartbeat later, it hit him like a brick wall. He struggled to hold onto his consciousness but everything went black.

Pulling back in the alley quickly, Pacys let the sahuagin's trident rip the air harmlessly in his face. The old bard moved with fluid economy, echoing the triumphant cadence of the song that echoed within his head.

Lifting the staff, he blocked the sea devil's second slash then slid the weapon to the side and slammed the iron-capped end into his opponent's face. While the sahuagin remained dazed, Pacys twisted the staff in the middle. Foot-long blades sprang out of either end. He took another step back, set himself, and rammed one blade into the creature's thorax, penetrating the heart.

Still, the sahuagin remained determined to get to its opponent. It raked the air with its claws as Pacys held it back with the staff. The oily black eyes eventually dimmed and the sahuagin draped over the weapon.

Pacys shoved the corpse to the alley floor, aware that other sahuagin already crowded forward. He used the staff with lethal efficiency, clearing a space around him and winning the respect of his savage adversaries. Still, he burned inside to be moving, to pursue the young man he'd spotted on the wagon.

During a brief lull, he knelt down quickly and pinched up some sand from the cobblestones. "Oghma, grant that my spell be strong." He flicked the sand out as he said the words. When he finished, he thought he saw a shimmer wash over the combatants in the alley.

In the next instant, nearly two thirds of their number stumbled and fell, asleep by the time they hit the cobblestones. With the way much clearer, Pacys ran toward the docks.

At the end of the alley, the old bard spotted the sahuagin standing at the dock's edge and peering down, but he didn't see the wagon with the young man in it. The old bard went forward, drawn by the music that grew still stronger inside his head. Fearful of what might have taken place, he told himself that nothing could have happened to the young man without causing the song in his heart and his head to go away.

As long as the tune lived, so did the young man. He felt that had to be true, but he wasn't certain. Staying down from the clustered sahuagin, he raced to the edge of the dark quay and peered down into the water as they were doing. With the wavering light from so many of the nearby buildings and ships that had been torched, to say nothing of the docks in places, it took him a moment to spot the wagon.