Laaqueel held herself proudly, listening to the words Iakhovas spoke. Confusion vibrated inside her. As Iakhovas had stated, he moved more truly along the currents a sahuagin would, and he gave voice to thoughts only a sahuagin would have. She felt proud and shamed and conflicted all at once. How could he, who Laaqueel knew was not a sahuagin, be better at playing one of her kind than she was?

"Our people were not meant to live as carrion feeders," Iakhovas yelled. "In the days after the destruction of this city, you princes teach your people the way to live their lives. In turn will they teach their children. Now is not the time to be cautious."

"Now is not the time to foolishly throw away the lives of our warriors," Ruubuuiz countered. "We must rebuild, and-"

"While you are rebuilding," Iakhovas accused, "you're going to allow the sea elves and mermen time to rebuild the Sharksbane Wall. You might as well help lay the stones yourself."

"Carefully," Ruubuuiz growled, flaring his fins and puffing up his chest angrily. "Your words here this day will not be forgotten."

"I will have my priestess put them in a singing bundle for you to remember always," Iakhovas declared, referring to the strings of shells, rocks, and knots tied to bone or sinew rings that the sahuagin used as books.

Iakhovas turned to look at the amphitheater seats and called out, "I did not come to Seros to free you only so you could trap yourselves again. The wall is broken, a world lies in wait out there to feel the caress of your claws and mighty teeth. Are you predators or prey?"

The crowd rose from their seats, clacking their claws against each other, shaking their tridents and spears. They hooted, whistled, and clicked their support of his words. Thousands made the cacophony almost deafening.

Iakhovas turned back to the three princes, strong and tall in triumph.

Maartaaugh stepped forward and gazed at the yelling sahuagin. "Don't be easily swayed by his words," he screamed at them. "Remember the thousands who have left this place already under his guidance, and remember that only hundreds of them have returned-or still may live."

Some of the audience's celebration died away.

"Those who fell in battle fell as true warriors should," Iakhovas rebutted. "With their claws in an enemy's heart or their teeth in an enemy's throat. Through me, they got the chance to die with nobility rather than live out their days behind a sea elf's wall."

Cheering started again, but it wasn't as loud as before. Laaqueel knew it was because there was a lot of truth in Maartaaugh's words. She eyed the other priestesses. Laaqueel knew that if Iakhovas fell out of favor suddenly, or made himself appear the slightest bit weak in the eyes of the sahuagin, the priestesses would kill her first, then turn on him. Their obvious resentment of her spurred her on, overcoming her own reluctance to champion Iakhovas. Her own dignity and self-worth was at risk.

Laaqueel strode forward imperiously, letting her anger bury any hesitation she felt about her actions. Every eye focused on her-she was so different from both the outer sea and Serosian sahuagin.

"You shame me," she accused the priestesses.

"N'Tel'Quess," one of the priestesses snarled. She touched the holy symbol of Sekolah hanging over her ridged chest and threw out a hand.

Laaqueel braced herself, summoning her own powers. She felt the spell tingle over her body as she clasped the holy symbol hanging between her bare breasts. The tingle went away and the priestess who'd attacked her burst into green flames.

The priestess swam from the others, trying to escape the blaze that consumed her. The water boiled around her, giving off terrible heat that coasted on the currents sweeping over Laaqueel. The malenti priestess watched in quiet shock as white foam from the boiling sea water and green flames consumed the priestess. Seconds later, the priestess's blackened bones drifted to the amphitheater floor. Her flesh was entirely consumed.

Quiet reigned over the amphitheater.

Little malenti, Iakhovas said gently into her mind, you have their complete and undivided attention.

Gathering her own composure, Laaqueel saw that it was true. Wariness gleamed in the black eyes of the priestesses before her.

"You, who are supposed to be the backbone of Sekolah's worship in your tribes, baronies, and kingdom," Laaqueel accused, "choose to be silent about Sekolah's teachings in this time of greatest need."

"Not true," one of the oldest priestesses stated.

Two of the sharks circling overhead under the control of sahuagin warriors broke ranks. Before anyone could say anything in warning, the predators ripped into the Serosian priestess.

The first shark chewed the priestess's face from her skull in passing while the other disemboweled her. The sharks returned to their positions overhead.

Laaqueel glanced at Iakhovas.

It's no work of mine, little ma lent i. His human face, when she saw it, even held a trace of suspicious hostility.

Laaqueel had no doubt that he'd taken part in neither attack. It was something else, something divine. She was certain of it. Feeling more confident, she returned her attention to the priestesses.

"If you don't live and teach as the Great Shark would have you," Laaqueel preached, "live in fear of Sekolah's wrath. As always, the weak will be culled from true warriors. So shall it be for the priestesses who stand in the way of the path the Shark God has chosen."

With fierce gazes and open hatred, the priestesses bowed their heads in acknowledgment.

Savage pride burned through Laaqueel. As she took her place at Iakhovas's side, she held her head high.

You've acquitted yourself well, little malenti, Iakhovas sent her, though I'd like to speak on this matter later, and at greater length. We are still not out of danger here.

Even that did not dissuade Laaqueel from the joy she felt. Sekolah had defended her, stepping in and destroying the priestesses who challenged her. It was unheard of.

"Warriors make war," Iakhovas roared. "Leaders lead." He spun slowly in the amphitheater, his arms thrust straight out and his claws fully extended. "When I first arrived here, I declared myself as your deliverer, the one who would set you free. I have not done that yet."

Laaqueel glanced at the princes as they conferred among themselves. They knew where Iakhovas was headed as well as she did. There was nothing they could do to prevent it.

"I tore down the Sharksbane Wall," Iakhovas said. "I opened a path to the outer Serosian world, to the seas the surface worlders depend on."

Clicks and whistles of agreement echoed around the amphitheater.

"But I failed to truly set you free," Iakhovas went on. "I left, handling errands of my own, taking the first steps to build We Who Eat a conflagration that would end the empires of our enemies, to leave them broken and shattered in our wake. I will not fail you again. I will be the king that you deserve, the one who will make savage warriors of you all in name and in deed."

The shrill sahuagin applause rippled across the amphitheater, growing steadily.

"No!"

The hoarse shout rang over the amphitheater. Laaqueel felt the movement along her lateral lines. She turned and found Maartaaugh striding toward Iakhovas.

"You will not be king here," Maartaaugh swore. "You are not from our sea. You are not of our heritage. You will not usurp our waters."

Silence immediately filled the waters as the sahuagin audience waited to see what would happen. Only the throbbing crescendo of the whale song continued unabated.

"Would you die then, Maartaaugh?" Iakhovas asked. "Would you challenge me and lose your life as Toomaaek did, unable to even fight for your people or the place they deserve in Seros?"