The story of the Elf Queen

* * *

From the crow's nest atop the center mast of the Conqueror of the Seas, the view of the surrounding sea and the approaching island was breathtaking. The weather during the voyage was beautiful. It seems by the grace of the Lady of the Seas. There was not a single cloud in the sky, it was warm, and a fair wind was blowing. As the squadron approached the island, the city on the coast became more and more visible. Kuordemar, the Heart of the Sea, the capital of what was once the Empire and now the Kingdom of the Islands, was located in the center of the southern coast of the island of the same name, the largest of the archipelago. Even from afar, it was an incredibly beautiful and very unusual city by the standards of the continent's inhabitants. Despite the transformation of the Island Empire into the Island Kingdom, Kuordemar retained much of its former grandeur and imperial splendor.

During the heyday of the Island Empire, the city center, built on the site of a very ancient settlement founded by the first human colonists, was completely rebuilt by the then Emperor. The old buildings and streets, built mostly chaotically and without a single plan, were razed to the ground, despite the discontent of many of the inhabitants. The best craftsmen and architects from all corners of the Island Empire were invited to renovate the capital. All new houses were built of white marble, imported from the continent in squadrons. Strictly at right angles, clear and even. Each house was, without exaggeration or false modesty a masterpiece of architecture. New streets were laid wide and strictly at right angles so the inhabitants could move around the capital of the Empire. The whole city and the facades of buildings were decorated with sculptures and bas-reliefs, of course, predominantly nautical themes. The average height of the houses was five stories, which in those days, and even now, was not a small number.

At the same time, the seaport of Kuordemar was almost completely rebuilt. New wide and comfortable wharves were built, capable of accommodating any ships, including the colossi of the Great Armada, which were built at the world-famous Great Shipyard, located here. Nowadays, no one can build ships like the Conqueror of the Seas. The masters of the Islands can still make all other types of ships. Their quality has not decreased since the Imperial times. The center of the city, or as the islanders themselves call it, the Imperial City, was surrounded by a high and wide wall reinforced with towers. Part of the wall went straight into the sea, built on the tops of two ridges of huge rocks that formed the border of a huge bay. They were additionally strengthened and in some places increased to be able to bear the weight of the fortifications. And it was these rocks that formed a very comfortable and spacious bay, because of which the settlement was founded here. It was four times larger than the one in Morgrave.

In front of the rocks of the bay, on which the protective wall stood, several rows of breakwater walls were poured from huge stones into the sea. They additionally protected the city from bad weather and possible enemy invasion, leaving only one corridor for entering the bay and preventing large ships from approaching the walls. Also on these stone walls, newts and mermaids grew huge colonies of mollusks, both food and pearl-bearing. In the bay itself and in the sea around the island there were always a variety of different ships. Mostly they were small fishing vessels, fishing with the sea creatures. But there were also a lot of big-bellied merchant ships, as well as predatory military ships. There were even a few ships flying the flags of cities that were part of the Confederacy, with which the Islands had always had very uneasy relations. As, indeed, with most of the inhabitants of the coast of the Middle Sea, which at one time belonged entirely to the Island Empire. But, as they say in the Confederation - nothing personal, just business.

Right in the center of the embankment was the entrance to a deep and wide canal that led deep into the city, right to the Imperial Palace, now the Royal Palace, in front of which was a small artificial lake dug right in the city. On its shore, adjacent to the palace, stood the main land temple of the Lady of the Seas, which had a water and land entrance. The canal was large enough for even a colossus ship to enter. Behind the city's strong walls were simpler houses, mostly built after the fall of the Island Empire. There was none of the crispness and straightforwardness of the Imperial City. The buildings were closely clustered together and gradually evolved into frankly simple peasant huts. To the north, almost immediately beyond the city, there was a ridge of gentle hills, partly forested and partly devoted to agricultural terraces. This ridge crested across the island from east to west, dividing it into northern and southern parts. Above the city, on the highest hill, was a huge lighthouse that towered over the capital and the rest of the island, pointing the way for ships at night.

The northern part of the island was less populated, and the hills approaching the coast on that side were rocky and precipitous. There were almost no beaches, only scatterings of deadly cliffs that prevented foreign ships from approaching the shore and landing troops. Where they could, there were observation posts and towers ready to raise the alarm. The southern part of the island was noticeably more gentle, with fertile land fields and fruit trees grown there. And its coastline abounded in convenient bays, on the shores of which stood fishing villages and towns of various sizes. The coastal waters were full of coral atolls, inhabited by newts and mermaids. The coastal waters were full of coral atolls, home to newts and mermaids.

The largest atoll was just around and partially inside Kuordemar Bay, which was essentially the underwater part of the city. The clear and transparent water made it possible to see whole flocks and individual sea creatures engaged in various kinds of labor. Some were driving schools of fish into the nets of human fishermen, some were patrolling the coastal waters with tame marine predators, some were cheerfully cleaning the bottoms of ships from algae and sea ducks, and some were keeping an eye on plantations of pearl and food mollusks or thickets of forage algae. The entire western shore and bottom of the bay, adjacent to the city's waterfront, was paved with huge slabs, forming a flat, semi-submerged area. The depth there was shallow, reaching the waist of a grown man at high tide and just above the knee at low tide. This allowed land dwellers and sea dwellers to stay there relatively comfortably, facilitating communication. The main trade in caught fish, pearls, shells, and other riches of the sea, which were much easier for the underwater inhabitants to obtain, took place there.

On the bay's eastern shore were the dwellings of the snake folk, which occupied the whole quarter and had their peculiarities of architecture. Their inhabitants and inhabitants, though they were adapted to swimming quite well, did not possess gills, and could not live permanently in the water. Although, sometimes they spent most of the day there. They were doing about the same things as newts and mermaids, except periodically each of the snake people had to rise to the surface to take a breath of air. Or to bask in the hot sun, though the waters around the Islands were warm all year round.

In the very center of the bay, on a huge round pedestal made of marble brought from the continent, stood a gigantic statue of the Lady of the Seas. Considering she was honored from ancient times by various peoples whose lives were somehow connected with the sea, and they differed from each other in appearance, a lot of spears were broken around the canonical image of the Goddess. As well as jaws, ribs, and skulls. According to legend, back in pre-imperial times, these disputes between followers finally bored the Goddess, and she personally appeared to her high priestesses, holding a clarifying conversation with them. The extent of the scolding of her subordinates varied from version to version. As well as her appearance. And in general, the credibility of this legend is questioned by some learned minds. But, be that as it may, since those ancient times, the Lady of the Seas has always been depicted as a woman standing waist-deep in water, usually with a trident in her hands. Facial features, jewelry, hairstyle, and figure (in particular the size of the breasts) could vary quite a lot, but being waist-deep in water, so that the lower part of the body was not visible, was an obligatory canon. In order not to cause another holy war, on the subject: legs, fish, or snake tail.

In this respect, the statue of Calisto in Kuordemar Bay was canonical. The lower part of the statue was a huge block of granite, tightly fitted together and worked as if it were the waves of the sea surging in all directions. Above them towered a female figure of snow-white marble, with a splendid waterfall of thick hair, which in two streams fell on her high and large breasts, hiding it. On the woman's head was a crown, entirely cast from pure gold and stylized as a huge shell of one of the mollusks, characterized by incredible beauty and deadly poison. In her right hand, the woman held a huge trident made of enchanted bronze, decorated with precious stones and gilding, which with its base went deep into the granite waves. The woman's left hand rested at her side. Her stern but beautiful face was turned towards the city she was looking after. According to legend, in the event of a threat to Kuordemar, the Lady of the Seas would turn her gaze and wrath toward the sea and punish those who encroached upon her domain.

All this Alekhar told Amalia, standing beside him, with her eyes wide with admiration as she gazed at the approaching city. The wind fluttered her long hair, making the priestess look even more enchanting. The squadron of the King of the Isles was still moving in the same wedge, precisely into the passage between the breakwaters. It was not the open sea, but it had slowed down considerably. It was evident the Captain's story had impressed the Priestess of Gaia. That's the one! This is not Morgrave, who calls itself the Pearl of the Middle Sea for some unknown reason. This is the true Heart of the Sea! Alekhar put his arm around the priestess's waist and said politely:

"It's time for us to get ready for the meeting, we'll be arriving soon. I will be very busy in the next few days, but later, I will show you all the beauties of the Islands."

"I'll be looking forward to your... Alekhar."

Smiling, the King of the Isles pressed the unresisting priestess against him and moved with her to the upper deck, where her charges, Calisto's priestesses and the officers of his crew, were waiting for them. They were all in the full parade for the big day. An hour later, the Conqueror of the Seas was the first to enter her home harbor, leading the trophy ships behind her. The other ships of the squadron followed, in strict order. On the shore and in the water, the squadron was already waiting. Hundreds and thousands of citizens welcomed the return of their King from the campaign. The air was filled with universal jubilation. The bay was full of newts, mermaids, and serpent folk, who were the first to hear the news from their friends and relatives who had accompanied the ships underwater. Slowly and carefully, the flagship approached the King's Wharf, where the top brass of the city and the kingdom had already gathered, along with their entourage of retainers. As the ship came to a standstill at the wharf without the need for mooring ropes, a wide and comfortable gangway lowered itself from its upper deck. Then a magnificent red and blue carpet, embroidered with invariably nautical designs, unfolded across it. When it was fully unfolded, those waiting ashore boarded the ship one by one, in strict order.

The first was a tall woman with long and completely gray hair but still very thick. She was dressed in red and blue closed silk garments embroidered with gold. She wore a magnificent pearl necklace around her neck and gorgeous gold earrings in her ears. The woman's posture, despite her age, was perfectly straight. She was followed by several people of different ages, ranging from grown elderly men to a couple of young children. The youngest child, two years old, was held in her arms by her mother. They were all dressed in the manner of the Islands, and lavishly adorned with gold, each of their clothes were red and blue. The colors of the dynasty ruling the Islands. Following them were several more women, dressed in blue and gold robes and carrying staffs adorned with pearls in their hands. Along with them slid one snake-maiden, a priestess of Calisto like Shassa, but with scales of bright yellow with black stripes and dark hair braided into a long braid over her shoulder. Following the priestesses of Calisto were the representatives of the most noble families of the Islands, the highest aristocracy, from whose ranks came almost all the captains of the main ships of the Island Kingdom. In their company were a couple of very pretty and shapely women dressed in green and gold robes.

On the upper deck of the Conqueror of the Seas, they were all greeted by the officers of the crew and the senior sailors, who were all lined up in two lines, forming a living corridor, with Alekhar standing at the end. Behind him stood his priestesses, including the new one. Behind her were her wards, all dressed in island fashions. Many of them were nervous, but they held themselves with dignity. Still, Faona and Shassa had prepared them for the upcoming welcoming ceremony. All the sailors were dressed in ceremonial uniforms, bright red and blue. When the gray-haired woman who walked first stepped aboard, the first of the sailors immediately bent one knee and bowed their heads before her. As she moved at a leisurely pace the crew members one by one echoed their gestures. As she approached Alekhar, behind his back the priestesses and his guests performed curtsies. The approaching woman froze for a brief moment, sliding her gaze over them before meeting the captain's eyes. A faint smile touched her face, and she said:

"Welcome back, my son."

Smiling back, the King of the Isles put his arms around her, pulling her close.

"It's good to see you in good health, Mom."

Behind the woman's back, all the others who had boarded the Conqueror of the Seas simultaneously dropped to one knee, bowed or curtsied. Then they said in unison:

"Welcome back, King of the Isles!"

Releasing the Queen Dowager from her embrace, Alekhar looked around at those who had come with her and said with dignity:

"Arise, honored sons and daughters of the Islands, and my guests."

The boarders and the honor guard rose to their feet one by one. Following the queen-mother, the rest of his relatives came to Alekhar, greeting the returning king and congratulating him on his successful campaign. The exchange of courtesies inevitably dragged on, but there was nothing to be done - etiquette. Then it was the turn of the representatives of the noble families, including the Supreme Treasurer, the Supreme Shipbuilder, the Mayor of Kuordemar, and other high officials. Two women dressed in green and gold robes were the last to greet and honor him. The older of the two was a native islander with brown eyes, wavy brown hair, and tanned skin. The second was a tribeswoman of Faona's, with the same almost black skin. Both women had lush figures, wide hips, and large breasts. Alekhar smiled at the sight of them and gestured to his lovely guest, who was standing with her charges and at whom the boarders were casting interested glances:

"My charming Amalia, may I present the Mother Superior of our Gaia temple and her first assistant. Feara and Maora, from this day forward, they are at your full disposal."

Both women immediately bowed deeply at the sight of the high priestess. Amalia, visibly embarrassed, did the same.

"We are happy to welcome you to our city, honorable Amalia. We have already been told of your grief, and are deeply sorry that you have suffered such a misfortune. We will do everything in our power, to help you find a new home in the Heart of the Sea."

"I thank you for your sympathy and offer of help, Sisters. But Alekhar has already done so much for me and my wards that ask more....."

Hearing the priestess of Gaia address the King of the Isles by name, many of those on board raised eyebrows, most notably the King's mother. When she saw her son's unperturbed face and his barely perceptible nod, she glanced at Amalia, assessed the priestess's figure and appearance, made up her mind, sighed, and then her gaze warmed a little.

"... would have been completely over the top on my part...."

"My dear Amalia, what are you talking about?"

Hugging the priestess around the waist, which caused another portion of surprise at the relatives and the top of the kingdom, Alekhar continued in a good-natured voice:

"What I have done for you is but a small part. And it is not enough to make up for the grief that you have suffered at the hands of scoundrels blinded by their stupidity and greed, unworthy to be called sons of the Islands."

At these words, the faces of several of the guests aboard the ship twitched visibly. They were Aldamar's relatives, who had already heard the news of their relative's offense and the consequences of it.

"So don't be so timid. Although I must say that this embarrassed blush is very..."

Boom!

A loud explosion and shrill screams caused Alekhar to break off at half a word, instantly merging with the ship, clutching Amalia's squealing body and preparing to fend off the sudden attack. Everyone on the deck of the Conqueror of the Seas stirred, the guards grabbed their weapons, and a bubble of water instantly formed around the king's kin, covering them all together. It looked thin but could withstand a powerful attack, especially aboard a flagship. A similar bubble formed around Alekhar himself and the priestess he hugged. But almost immediately it was clear that there was no attack on the flagship. There was a problem. When he saw the source of the problem, the King of the Isles could barely contain himself from shouting with rage.

One of the cargo ships loaded with the loot from Morgrave, which had already been docked in the bay, waiting to be unloaded, was now on fire. Huge tongues of flame burst from its portholes and the cargo hatches led to the lower decks, rapidly engulfing the entire ship. A thick column of greasy, black smoke rose into the air from the blazing ship. The sails and tackle burst into flames, and the crew members rushed overboard in panic and shouted, trying to get as far away from the flaming ship as possible. Because the fire was not going to let go of its victims. From the lower portholes of the blazing ship liquid flame was pouring out, which did not extinguish in the water, but spread rapidly over the water surface, catching up with people who had not had time to swim far enough away.

"The spawn of the deep and their minions! This is the Lucky Charms! It was loaded with fire oil! Phaona! The Water Wall, hurry! Or the whole bay will go up in flames!"

The High Priestess Calisto needed no prompting, already whispering prayers to her mistress with her companions. Given who was praying and where they got the answer almost instantly, Alekhar still gingerly let go of Amalia, who remained protected by the water barrier, and ran up to his second priestess and mistress. With one arm he wrapped around her waist from the back and with the other he clutched her priestly staff, giving her access to the Conqueror of the Seas' reserves. With such strength and support from the Lady of the Seas, in a moment the water around the flaming ship rose sharply vertically upwards, forming a bowl and preventing the flaming oil spewing out of the burning ship from spreading over the water. The tritons and mermaids in the water rushed toward it from all sides, grabbing the surviving crew members and dragging them swiftly to shore or other ships.

"A Water Sphere, quicker, a ship is still possible...."

Boom!

With a loud explosion, the ship literally fell to pieces, the upper decks shattered into tiny splinters, and the masts snapped and began to fall. Burning wood flew in all directions and streams of liquid fire rushed in. But at the same time, the wall of water surrounding the ship surged upward and took most of the impact. A few moments later, the flaming remains of the ship were swallowed whole by a huge sphere of water, extinguishing the flames. Then it slowly headed towards the shore, towards the shipyards, carrying the remains of the lost ship with it. Alekhar let go of Faona, regaining his calm and confident demeanor. Mentally, the furious King of the Isles promised himself to find the brainless fool who had been careless with fire on a ship filled with barrels of fire oil. On a ship where he had forbidden any fire for the duration of the voyage! No, some idiot found a ship in the bay, in front of the whole town. On the day of his triumph! And at the same time, lost a valuable cargo worth a great deal of money! Whoever you are, you crooked idiot, it's better for you if you burned up with the ship.

"My King, the trouble!"

Turning abruptly to the other side, Alekhar saw the neighboring wharf and couldn't hold back a swear word.

* * *

A few days before.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Closing his eyes, Luaval waited for his heart to calm and his breathing to even out. Then he slowly re-read the neat lines in the small artifact journal. Once again, he had the urge to kill someone. Or fuck someone hard. You could do both. One at a time, or both. There were plenty of candidates for both. After that, the only thing left to do was kill himself. Since there's nowhere to run in the middle of the Middle Sea. So the dark elf took out a special enchanted stylus and carefully wrote a single word in response to the message he received:

No.

A few moments later, the answer appeared on a pristine blank page:

I'm begging you.

Rolling his violet eyes, Luaval exhaled a few times again, then carefully, restraining himself, he wrote:

Impossible. There are far more merciful ways to cut their lives short.

The answer came sometime later:

Impossible or very hard?

Damn you. Luaval closed his eyes and sat motionless for a few moments, thinking hard. Then, choosing his words carefully, he answered:

Do you really need them that badly?

I don't care about them at all. But their rescue will be of great benefit to the Forest.

Oh, I'll bet you do.

How much?

Very much so. Your answer?

For a minute, Luaval sat motionless, staring before him. Nearby, on the deck above, the voices of men sounded. The planks of the ship creaked. The waves were crashing against the sides of the ship. To all of this, the dark elf paid no attention. Then, the decision was made:

It's going to be very hard.

Thank you.

With a smirk, Luaval wrote:

The specific form and posture of gratitude will be discussed upon my return. For now, I need images of the prisoners. I also need the contacts of the agents on Kuordemar. I'll write up a list of what they'll need to retrieve and prepare for my arrival if you want me to get Zitrael out of Sakhib-Nere in time as well

Good.

When he finished writing the message, Luaval carefully stowed the stylus and the artifact journal in his shoulder bag. He made sure the disguise was working properly and pulled out a silver gemstone tiara. Putting it on his head, the dark elf closed his eyes, activating the artifact. Soon the images of several humans and a couple of non-humans appeared in his mind.

A tall and slender woman with milky white skin, a scattering of freckles on her face, hazel eyes, and unruly strands of shoulder-length red hair, dressed in a tight red-and-white caster's robe that emphasized her narrow waist and high breasts. A silver medallion chain of a high-ranking member of the adventurer's guild hung from the woman's chest. Her image was as hot as a blazing fire. It wasn't hard to guess what element she had mastered and had mastered it to an impressive level. It was a good image, clear. And very pleasant.

Next was an adolescent boy, thin, with short dark hair and a haughty, aristocratic face, dressed in expensive black-and-white robes embroidered with the crest of one of the major trading houses of the Confederacy of Free Cities, whose main branch was located on the western coast of the Middle Sea. How far the grandson of the current head had traveled from his homeland. It was a rather unpleasant image, but at the same time, it was surprisingly familiar. Oh, gotcha. Meanness, pettiness, and underlying malice. Indeed, to add spice to the ears, swap the colors of skin and hair and get a typical representative of the lowest rung in the hierarchy of the House. The one who made the mold of the image obviously knew and felt the boy's essence very well.

Then the images of two dwarves came simultaneously. The older one was well-fed, broad-shouldered, with a well-groomed auburn beard to the middle of his chest, a lush mustache, and a large nose, wearing expensive clothes sewn according to the intermountain fashion and a silver chain with the sign of a master jeweler on his chest. The second, younger man was somewhat less well-fed but just as broad-shouldered. He wore noticeably plainer clothes, a short beard, no mustache, and a bronze chain with the mark of a journeyman jeweler on his chest. The family resemblance between the two was easily discernible to the eye, even if one did not heed the resulting image. Clearly, these were from the clan that dwells beneath Mont Ros Mountain and has sworn vassal oaths to the Duke's family. Apparently, the runts were in town when they were attacked. This is not surprising, for they are not the orthodox of the Undermountain, who may never see the light of the sun or the sky in their entire lives.

The last image that came to mind was that of a young and very beautiful human girl, wearing a colorful red, white, and yellow dress made after the Confederate fashion. But on it were embroidered numerous schematic symbols of beasts and men, and many brightly colored cloth ribbons were sewn on. Her appearance, facial features, straight and pitch-black hair, and slightly slanted eyes gave her away as a native of the far eastern steppes and forest-steppes. Though... No, not a native. A half-breed, judging by the image, her mother was from the steppes. And not a simple one at that. The girl smelled of something completely alien to a son of the Underland. In her image, one could feel the vast expanses, the singing of the free wind, the bottomless clear sky, the cries of birds of prey, and a strange lingering singing. Right. Mom was a shaman, a spirit caster. The daughter's definitely like mom. How'd you get this far west? Well, it doesn't matter.

After receiving the last image, Luaval confirmed the reception, removed the tiara, closed his eyes, and exhaled grimly. That made five. Of which only the spellcasters would be of any help. And the shaman, unless she had prepared summons, and judging by the fact she was in captivity, she didn't, would be mostly useless. Especially in the Underground, where surface spirits will be a priori weak. And the locals would be hard to negotiate with. The boy is a burden, and judging by the image, an unpleasant one at that. Underground shorties may not be completely useless, but they are from the masters, so they have never been to the Underground and do not know its dangers. It's good if they can navigate and move around there at least a little bit. That's going to be very difficult. That means it's going to be a lot of work.

The dark elf put on the tiara and closed his eyes, tuning in to the images he had received. So, the masters are on the ship, where the most valuable prisoners are taken. The shaman and the spellcaster are also there. Good. Where's the boy? Hmm. Somewhere on the flagship, it's hard to say. That's too bad. He'll have to get him out separately.

Taking off the tiara and putting it back in his stuffed shoulder bag, Luaval stretched his stiff arms and legs gingerly. There was little room in the hold of one of the ships he was sitting in, stinking of damp and almost no light. If it weren't for the rocking, it would have been easy to imagine himself back home, somewhere in the Wild Territories of the Underworld. If it weren't for the voices of the damned Humas coming from the upper decks, who would now make him miss the birth of his first-born child. They'd pay him separately for that. Later. When the time was right. Closing his eyes, the dark elf made himself comfortable, ensured that his cloaking amulets were working reliably and steadily, and then closed his eyes. He must wait for the night.

* * *

As darkness fell, Luaval cautiously left the hold of the ship where he had been sitting. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the moon and stars shone brightly. It would have been better if they hadn't been there, but it was all right to work under their light. Most sailors on the captured ship in Morgrave harbor were already safely asleep. The only ones awake were the few men on duty watching the course of the ship that was towing the flagship. Fortunately, this ship had a mast, and it was high enough. So there was no need to climb the ropes to the neighboring one. Unnoticed by anyone, dressed in his favorite Undermountin Hunter costume, Luaval easily climbed to the topmost rail. He leaped toward the ship with the prisoners, activating his levitation amulet at the same time. A swift, silent planning, and without anyone noticing, Luaval clung to the side of the ship, which was a typical islander cargo transport. The kind designed to transport slaves. We know, we've been on one of those. He listened and made sure everyone was asleep except for the sailors on duty, and carefully climbed over the side. Given the darkness of the night and the working camouflage amulets, he could only be spotted if he began to search for him.

Indeed, we are at sea, on our way home, under cover of the mighty Conqueror of the Seas, who are we to fear? The past has taught you nothing, Humans. No, no, no, this is a good thing. Let's keep it that way. Noiselessly and without anyone noticing, Luaval reached the entrance to the captain's quarters. There were no guards at the doors, though they were locked, and even under a magical signaling net. It took the dark elf less than two minutes, thanks to his experience and excellent tools, to get through, and then he was inside. A powerful smell of wine and sweating human bodies hit his nostrils. Looking around in the darkness of the cabin, Luaval only shook his head. Three men were lying on the captain's bed. The captain was a large man with short, barely graying dark hair and a neat beard. In his arms, resting her head on his chest, lay a tanned, naked islander with short, curly dark hair. Judging by the blue-gold robes on the floor and the staff adorned with a scattering of sea pearls beside them, she was one of Calisto's younger priestesses. Perhaps, given her youth, she was a novice, entrusted with the staff only for the duration of the campaign as an exception and a great honor. On the other side of the captain, with her tail wrapped around his left leg, lay a snakelike creature with white-yellow scales and a mop of unruly sandy hair. The flat tip of its tail, thrown over the sleeping men, lay precisely on the priestess's buttocks, which the sleeping captain clutched with one hand.

It was clear the trio had had a fun night. There was a mix of men's and women's clothes strewn all over the floor, and the table was littered with the remains of dinner and several bottles of wine. Not bad by human standards, by the way. Cautiously treading the floor, Luaval carefully approached the bed, pulling a small vial from his belt pocket. A precaution, but in this situation even the slightest risk was unacceptable. Three drops on their faces, right under their noses, and the trio fell into a deep sleep until dawn. Putting the vial away, the dark elf turned the sleeping islander on her back and began to evaluate her breasts. Not bad, albeit small, size two tits, with dark brown cherries of nipples. Squeezing each one a couple of times and twisting the hardened nipples, Luaval turned to the snakewoman and turned her onto her back. This one had noticeably larger breasts, size four, with large pale pink nipples. In general, snake folks lay eggs, usually one or two. Rarely three. But almost immediately, usually within a couple of hours, from them hatched already formed children, because the maturation of eggs went in the belly of the mother. Or rather, in the upper part of the tail, in fact, in the same womb. And in case the father was a representative of another race, the child was often born without an egg. And then the newborn children were breastfed by their mothers.

Squeezing the sleeping snake-maiden's hardened nipples, Luaval left her breasts alone, flicking them with a finger. Then he slid down her smooth belly to where the human part transitioned into the snake part. Finding the right fold between large scaly plates wasn't difficult. It had been a long time, since he'd tried snake folk in bed. They were rare in the Underworld. Rumors about them were quite interesting, though. Mostly related to their very long and bifurcated tongues. And their poisonous fangs. Maybe he could talk Sivila into getting one. He'd have to think about it. Especially, since they live longer than humans.

Appreciating the tits of the sleeping women, Luaval carefully picked up with the tip of his knife the captain's control amulet, which was lying on the floor between the things, to which all the ship's magical weaves were tied. Such irresponsibility. Eternal Darkness, may the Humas continue to be like this forever and ever. Having put a special scanning rod to the amulet, the dark elf waited a few minutes and then returned the captain's amulet to its place. He took out a blank amulet, to the center of which he pressed the scanning rod. In a minute, the copy of the control amulet was almost ready. Once again, Luaval approached the bed and carefully pricked the sleeping captain's finger with a needle, then brought the amulet to him. As soon as a drop of blood touched it, the amulet glowed for a moment, and then it was ready. Good.

Leaving the captain to dream further in the arms of his mistresses, Luaval leisurely examined his cabin and office. The ship's log was found almost immediately. Having quickly captured all the pages with the help of a special amulet and copied the nautical charts found in the captain's chest, the dark elf carefully placed a small spy amulet under the tabletop. It would not be superfluous. Since fate had brought him back to the Islands after so many years, he had to make the most of this trip. After another look around the cabin, Luaval left carefully, restoring the signal network and locking the doors.

With the controlling amulet, moving around the ship was a breeze. The dark elf easily reached the middle deck, bypassing all the locked doors and defenses designed to contain the prisoners in case of escape or rebellion. Here, on the middle deck, the captured prisoners, among the most valuable, were housed in small quarters. And by the standards of the islanders in quite comfortable conditions. Almost all of them were asleep, as were most of the small shift of sailor guards on duty. Amazing carelessness. Only two of them were awake, but they, too, from the sounds of it, were busy doing something other than keeping order. Peeking into the guard room, the dark elf looked at the sailors sleeping peacefully at the table and in the hammocks, once again amazed at their carelessness. Then he took a few moments to make them sleep more deeply.

Then he approached the back room across from the duty room, where the only guards awake were the only ones who sounded like they were having sex. To be more precise, as Luaval could tell by peering cautiously through the ajar door, only one of them was fucking, a snakelike man with black-red scales, a lean, swarthy male body, and short black hair. His partner was a mature islander, with a muscular build, dark brown skin, short black frizzy hair, luscious lips, and a lush shape that spoke of a heavy admixture of black blood from the far south. Numerous scars were clearly visible on her dark skin, and a battleboarding blade and a pair of knives lay beside her belongings spread out on the floor. She was lying on the floor of the utility room perfectly still, her mouth and eyes wide open. And the reason for her immobility was not the rings of snake tail tightly wrapped around her legs. It was the faint golden-green glow of her partner's eyes, from which she could not take her own eyes, devoid of thoughts.

The myth that snake folk could subjugate a person's will with a single glance was just a myth. In fact, very few members of these folk possessed a rather difficult-to-master technique of hypnosis based on direct eye contact which was a kind of Mind Magic. This particular serpent, as the dark elf could see through the ajar door, had mastered it sufficiently. And, most likely, he did not advertise his talent. It was unexpected to see such a thing here, for as far as Luaval remembered, such tricks were more famous for the southern subspecies of serpent folk that lived in the deserts and jungles. Even there, such masters were rare. They skillfully complemented their charming gaze with mesmerizing movements of the tail and acoustic impact if they had a rattle on the tip. Sea serpents, on the other hand, were better known for their venom, much stronger and more concentrated than the rest of their kin. Could this one's ancestors be Southern, too?

With a rather grinning face, the serpent was leisurely and rhythmically clenching and unclenching his tail rings, moving his pelvis at the same time. The anatomy of the snake folk was not quite suited for bedding human women, but this one had clearly gotten the hang of it. In any case, the islander he fucked quite successfully, at the same time squeezing her breasts with his hands. With his long, split tongue he explored her face, occasionally penetrating her mouth. She, still with the same blank expression, lay absolutely still, only actively helping him with her tongue, sucking on it in return. Apparently, she was to the snake's liking, for their tongues are much more sensitive than real snakes.

Wrapping another ring around the islander's legs, braiding them completely, the snake folk paused for a moment squeezing his partner in his embrace. There was nothing particularly surprising about that either. During sex snakes love to tightly wrap their tails around the partner's tail so she cannot move it in any way. And escape accordingly. He noiselessly returned to the sailors sleeping in the duty room. Luaval looked at them with his magical vision. The mind-numbing effects were almost imperceptible, but if you didn't know where to look you could easily miss them. How interesting it was on the ship, though. After hesitating for a few moments, the dark elf decided not to disturb the serpent for the time being. Instead, he cautiously approached the right cell, at the far end of the corridor, reinforced with additional anti-magic shields and barriers, where a couple of the gifted women he needed were sitting. How fortunate that they were together.

Making sure the hood mask completely concealed his face, leaving only a narrow slit for his eyes, Luaval carefully opened the chamber and peered inside. Thankfully, with the captain's control amulet, this was not difficult at all. In addition to the couple he wanted, there were two others inside. A young girl and a young man, and judging by their looks and bright red hair, the former was clearly related to the spellcaster he wanted. She and the caster were sleeping on the same mattress, snuggled together. A young man, with short blond hair, was lying with his back turned to the wall on the bunk next to them. The women wore short sleeveless shirts of coarse gray cloth, barely reaching mid-thigh. The young boy was wearing only a pair of underpants of the same gray cloth, which made it possible to distinguish a few bruises and abrasions on his back. A couple of bruises and marks were visible on the arms and legs of the sleeping woman. Also, each had a magic-suppressing collar of enchanted iron around their neck. It was a familiar model, quite good.

But the slant-eyed daughter of the distant steppes was awake, sitting cross-legged on the floor in the corner of the cabin with her hands on her knees. She was also dressed in one simple shirt of gray cloth, which allowed her to appreciate the slimness of her long legs and large breasts. Her head was tilted back, her long black hair, gathered in two braids, was visibly disheveled, and her lower lip was broken and swollen. Her eyes were rolled back so that only the whites were visible, and her lips were moving soundlessly. It seems trying to get through to her contracts. That was one of the problems with shamans. Cutting them off from spirits with whom they had a strong connection was a lot harder than blocking the magical power of a mage. No, the shaman had a collar around her neck, and she couldn't use her magic. But she could try to reach out to one of her friends. It takes an order of magnitude more effort to block something like that. The islanders probably figured the collar was enough. In another situation, a very rash decision. But here, in the middle of the sea, far from their homelands, they had reason not to fear the spellcaster.

And from what Luaval could see, they were right. The slanted girl couldn't get a hold of any of her subordinates. Carefully slipping into the cell, the dark elf activated a pair of amulets that should have concealed his presence and absorbed any sounds. After that, he clapped his hands loudly and said:

"Wake up! Wake up! Who wants to go home, stop sleeping! Wake up!"

The awakened humans fidgeted, uncomprehending and blinking their eyes sleepily. The red-haired girl shrieked when she saw the dark-clothed stranger before her in the semi-dark cell and drew back, pushing her relative away. The boy turned abruptly at the voice, shrieking and twitching on the mattress, trying to sit up. The adult spellcaster that the younger relative had pinned against the wall in a panic was cursing loudly and trying to shove her back. The eyes of the shamaness returned to normal. Her eyes came out of their orbits, and she pulled back, resting her back against the wall and putting her hands out in front of her in some evil-disgusting gesture, whispering something in her native tongue. Smiling at the effect, Luaval clapped his hands together once more:

"Quiet! Everyone shut up and listen to me! Unless, of course, you want to go home and not be sold on the slave market of Kuordemar."

There was an instant silence in the cell, and the four men stared at the unexpected guest with frightened and tense eyes.

"Good, I can see you all want to get out of here. And if you do, you're gonna do what I tell you to do."

* * *

The conversation with the four gifted prisoners was surprisingly productive. It was amazing how quickly people could think in a critical situation. After briefing the prisoners, reassured by the prospect of freedom, Luaval carefully left the cell and listened. The serpent folk, judging by the sounds, were still having fun in the back room. It wasn't the first time he'd spent the night like that. It was for the best, it was less hassle to put the duty officers to sleep. Slipping silently down the corridor, the dark elf reached the next cell, where the short men he needed were sitting. In addition to them, there were several other people in the cell-cabin, all of them, judging by their appearance and clean hands, were not simple. Though it was obvious from the way they were kept. But Luaval was only interested in the bearded men. So, after carefully enhancing the sleep of the other men with drops of soporific potion and reactivating the amulets that suppressed noise and sounds, the dark elf unceremoniously woke up the two dwarves.

"Good night, honorable masters. I have a business proposition for you."

* * *

The bearded short men were no less quick-witted than the humans, which was gratifying. After listening to the dark elf, they were instantly willing to cooperate. After instructing them, Luaval left the cell again, stepping carefully into the central corridor and heading for the exit. On the way, the dark elf took another cautious peek into the back room and had no regrets. Snakefolk had already finished fucking the islander and was now entertaining her differently. Having entangled her tightly with the rings of his tail, from hips to big tits, having pressed her hands to her body, so that she could not move, the snake man brought the woman out of the trance. When she came to her senses and realized the situation she was in, the islander became furious and tried desperately to break free of the rings that had squeezed her. But to no avail. All she could do was kick her feet helplessly on the floor, glare with her dark eyes, and moo. The snake had gagged her, and now he was having fun playing with his victim's breasts, roughly squeezing and twisting her nipples, while running his long tongue over her face.

"Do you know what the most beautiful thing is, Cassandra?" The serpent man hissed softly, pressing his fingers into the islander's nipples.

"Mmmmph!!!" The gagged and unsuccessful islander just mumbled angrily and shook her legs even more vigorously.

"That this is not our first night, my sweet Cassandra," the serpent continued, still licking her face and playing with the islander's breasts.

"Mmmmph!!!"

"Oh, you have such a funny face every time you hear that."

"Mmmmph! Mmph!!!"

"Oh, yeah. Keep moving, it's so exciting. Strong, stern, and fearless Cassandra is powerless against the naughty Hesse. What is it? Are my rings too strong for you?"

"Mmmmph! Mmph!!!"

"Oh, you say that to me, my sweet Cassandra," the serpent folk continued to amuse himself, gripping his victim's nipples with his fingers and pulling them forcefully.

"Mmmmph!!!"

Chuckling, the snakefolk took the islander by the chin, turned her to face him, and forced her to look into his eyes.

"There's no need to be so angry, my dear Cassandra. You will go to sleep and forget everything again. You will remember only how your faithful and obedient Hesse, Hesse the Licker, pleased you with his tongue. And that you liked it very much."

"Mmmmph!!!"

"Sleep, my sweet Cassandra, sleep."

With the last words, the snake's eyes flashed a golden-green color and the islander who had been twitching unsuccessfully collapsed, closing her eyes. With a satisfied hiss, the serpent folk loosened his rings and began to gather up the things spread out on the floor. Then he threw the unconscious body of the naked islander on his shoulder, slapped her buttocks, and crawled away to the guard room where the other sailors were sleeping peacefully. Luaval, standing under his disguise, couldn't help but grin approvingly at the sight of him. The serpent was not bad. On the surface, he looked like a henpecked, but in reality, he managed to woo his commanding officer. He'd met some of them in his long life and even knew one personally. His whole House was sure that he was an obedient lapdog of the matriarch, whom she kept only for the sake of his skillful tongue. And it turned out that behind the closed doors of the chambers such things were going on... Maybe he should let them live? Hmm. He'll see if they don't get caught.

Slipping back onto the upper deck, Luaval repeated his trick of climbing the mast and gliding to the right ship. There was still plenty of work to do, and not as much time as he would have liked. Fortunately, the security on the new ship was almost as good as on the previous one. That is, only a few guards on duty were awake, and they were all napping. But at least no one was raping anyone here, using mind magic. Having penetrated the lower decks, where large oak barrels with symbols of fire and danger were stacked, the dark elf began to carefully place among them in a bundle of combat and camouflage amulets, combining them into a single network. Then, he moved to the next deck...

* * *

"Do you get it?"

The slanted shaman, the red-haired spellcaster, and a couple of her students, who would also have to be taken along, nodded simultaneously. Their magic-suppressing collars lay on the floor of the chamber, opened by Luaval. The eldest of the dwarves folded his hands behind his back and spoke grimly:

"We got it"

"Then let's move on."

After activating the cloaking amulet, the dark elf left the cabin, leaving its door ajar. Behind his back, the remaining prisoners activated their camouflage amulets, which had been given and were united in a single network, increasing their effectiveness by an order of magnitude. As he passed the dwarves' quarters, Luaval saw their cellmates were fast asleep, drugged by the alchemy. Good. With the door and their cells ajar he walked further down the corridor, fumbling for the detonator amulet. All right. It's time to get started. His blood was bubbling with the stimulating alchemy he'd drunk. Every possible enhancement that sharpened his senses to the extreme had been activated. It's time.

Boom!

Somewhere outside on a neighboring ship, barrels of fire oil exploded with a thud. The dark elf drew his weapon and rushed forward to the upper deck. As he ran past the room where the sailor guards were on duty, he tossed a disposable battle amulet and dashed past. A moment later, there was a loud explosion and cries of pain, but Luaval didn't see it anymore and paid no attention to it. Up the stairs. Doors open, and the defenses didn't react to him, thanks to a copy of the captain's control amulet.

A pair of sailors caught at the top of the stairs had no time to realize anything when something blurred past them. A moment later, both went tumbling down the stairs with their throats slit. Leaping to the upper deck, Luaval instantly discharged his two battle wands, releasing a considerable charge of magic. From such an overload, both rather expensive artifacts turned to ashes. He doesn't care. The group of sailors gathered around the side of the ship and watched the neighboring ship go up in flames. They didn't have time to realize anything when a concentrated fireball flew into them. There was a deafening explosion, screams of pain, the wreckage and splinters of the ship flying in all directions. The captain of the ship, standing on the bridge with his mistresses, was surprised but could do nothing when a second fireball flew at them simultaneously. Another deafening explosion, screams, and splinters flying in all directions, but unlike the sailors, the captain and his girlfriends had some kind of defense that partially absorbed the impact. The people standing on the wharf where the ship with the prisoners was docked, screamed in terror, someone fell into the water, someone rushed down the gangway to the ship, and panic began.

A moment later, a scattering of small amulets in the form of enchanted stone balls covered in runes flew into the crowd on the dock. They exploded with a deafening rumble, shattering into tiny fragments at a tremendous speed. Three empty vials fell onto the dock with panicked, uncomprehending, and injured people. When they shattered, their contents instantly began to vaporize into clouds of thick and choking smoke, adding to the commotion. But Luaval paid no attention to that. The dark elf jumped over the side of the ship and, covered in camouflage amulets made his appearance blurred, activated the enchantment on his boots at the last moment. Instead of going underwater, he ran as fast as he could across the water, as if on land, toward the shore.

Faster. Faster. Someone caught sight of the blur running across the water and started to shout, but in the commotion it was too late. When he reached the crowded embankment, Luaval cursed mentally. How many of you are here? In an instant, two more of his good battle wands, which were filled with fire, released their energy reserves and collapsed from overcapacity. Two powerful jets of liquid flame struck the people and non-humans crowded on the embankment. Screams of pain. Panic. That's good. But we need more. Three vials of poisonous alchemy fly in different directions again, followed by two larger spherical war amulets that explode with a deafening roar and a blinding flash of light.

The frightened crowd rushed in all directions, knocking each other down and trampling the fallen, not realizing what was happening. The guards on the wharf were unprepared for such a thing, and in the first moments they were confused, and then they were swept away by the panicking humans and nonhumans. But not for long. They would soon get their bearings. But that would be enough time for him. Under the cover of the clouds of smoke, the general panic, and his disguise, Luaval dashed past the blinded, poisoned, burned, wounded, and dead islanders, straight for the nearest house. A dash, changing the enchantment on his boots, activating his amulet of levitation. It took only four moments to fly to the roof of the house, pushing off the reliefs that covered its facade. There were shouts from below, someone had spotted the blurry silhouette after all. Good.

Throwing down a couple more battle amulets, less than half of which remained, the dark elf rushed across the rooftops and into the city. Hurry. The chase would begin soon. His majesty would not let such a slap to his triumph go unheeded. As he swung through the wide alleyway between the two houses, activating the levitation amulet again, Luaval mentally cursed. It was easier in Morgrave, where you could walk across the city on the rooftops. Here, he had to run like a saiga while discharging his levitation amulet. And you have to ensure you don't disturb the magical defenses of the upper floors and roofs of the inhabitants here. However, the dark elf rushing along the roofs deliberately touched some signaling threads. Still, the chase should realize where he was headed. Eh, it's a beautiful city, especially from up high. It's a pity that I've never been able to visit it properly, everything is always on the run.

The guards on guard at the city wall were already on alert when Luaval reached them. But they were few, for the fleet had returned from a successful campaign and had been sent to the quays and wharves. Those who remained didn't know what was going on. He had to help them. Jumping from the roof of the outermost house to the city wall and climbing to the top, Luaval tossed a disposable battle amulet in the direction of the patrol that had missed his arrival. An explosion, the scream of a wounded man, another jump, and the activation of the levitation amulet. A short flight-planning. He landed on the roof of the nearest house. Let's go. His heart was pounding like crazy, his legs were starting to buzz from the long run. And it's a long run. But it was bearable for now, thanks to the good alchemy and reinforcements.

The suburbs surrounding the Imperial City were much more like Morgrave. It was much easier to dash across the rooftops here, the houses were clustered together, and there was less magical protection. Turning north, Luaval headed toward the outskirts of the city. A road led away from the forested hills. Where is it? Where is it? Ah, here it was! The inn on the outskirts of the town was easily recognized. Several horses, already saddled, were standing near the stable. Standing on the roof of the outermost house, the dark elf took a few moments to assess the situation. It appeared to be in order. No ambush. Good, the Secret Guard agents had not failed. Jumping down from the roof, Luaval ran toward the tethered horses in a blurry shadow. The dark elf could ride, but he preferred other riding beasts. But what could be done, the riding lizards of the Underground above were a very rare curiosity. Quickly unhitching the horses, Luaval jumped into the saddle.

"Hey, what the hell?! Hey! What the..."

Another disposable battle amulet flew at the feet of an islander who noticed something wrong with the horses. An explosion. Screams of pain and fear. No matter. Spurring his horse, Luaval spurred toward the hills, dragging three more horses behind him. Behind him, several men came out of the inn, shouting in a frenzy at the sight of the stolen horses. Their cries were cut short by the detonation of another battle amulet, thrown to the ground by the dark elf before he left, which the islanders had not noticed. But Luaval didn't care about that. The horses, pre-fueled with stimulating alchemy, were galloping at full speed, past fields and fruit groves, toward the rapidly approaching hills. There was no one on the road, which was to be expected. Everyone who could, was in town now, greeting their countrymen who had returned with their booty.

The dark elf turned off the road and into the woods, reaching the hills without encountering anyone. Jumping down from his horse, Luaval drew six small amulets from his belt pocket, filled with a portion of the blood of each of the prisoners. The dark elf placed them in his saddlebags and slapped the horses on the rump, reinforcing them with a small magical discharge, and they roared away. Luaval then took several vials of detoxicants from his belt pocket and drank them one by one. Oh, what a load of crap. Putting the empty vials back, he took a small flask of clean water from his belt and drained it in a gulp. Oh, good, but not enough. Need more water. Hanging the flask from his belt, Luaval pulled a small pouch of gray crystalline powder from another pocket. Undoing the ties, he poured it over himself. The powder immediately coated the dark elf's clothes and then evaporated with a hiss, completely blocking out any odor and further hiding him from any possible search. Alright, now let's go back...

* * *

Luaval reached Kuordemar after sunset when the sun had dropped below the horizon. In the distance, on the road leading to the hills, a cavalcade of horsemen passed by several times. Good. The experienced Dungeon Hunter had no trouble getting into the suburbs. Although the streets were crowded. It was a holiday. Moving along the rooftops, Luaval reached the wall surrounding the Imperial City. There were twice as many patrols on the wall, and all the magical defenses and signaling systems were at full capacity. Apparently, someone had thought that some of the fugitives might have stayed in the Imperial City and tried to take refuge there. Clever. I had to spend some of the disposable cloaking amulets to slip through the activated magic fields. It was scary to imagine what a day of running them at full power all around the perimeter wall would cost.

After climbing over the wall, the dark elf moved across the rooftops toward the waterfront. Despite the late hour, the streets of the Imperial City were also full of people and armed patrols of guards. One had to move with extreme caution. Armed guards were standing on some rooftops. The fact that many of the rooftops in the houses of Imperial City were open-air areas with awnings and furniture where the residents could sit and eat in the fresh air also made it difficult to move. Many did so, enjoying the cool of the night and the light sea breeze. As he made his way through another such roof, a dog-tired Luaval suddenly froze in place when he heard a fragment of a phrase:

"...a real elf girl, I've seen her myself!"

Stopping in the shadow of the chimney, the dark elf listened to the conversation of several islanders sitting on cushions around a low table set with wine and fruit. One of them was dressed in the red and blue clothes of a sailor.

"Oh, really?! A real pointy-eared woman?! Did you guys steal the Duke's wife?"

"No, this one's different. She was found with Gaia's new priestess on Aldamar's ship. The priestess took her for herself, along with the other women the bastard decided to hide from His Majesty."

"And the King let her?!"

"If anyone had said a word to her then! You should have seen Amalia when she suddenly spoke in a voice that wasn't hers! My heart sank when I saw her glowing. I guess that's it. Goodbye to fucking and manhood."

"Oh, come on, you're making it worse. The Life-Giver is not a vindictive one. A year or two of polishing the slits of her priestesses and novices, and she would forgive you."

"Well, maybe not just the slits."

"Or maybe you be pegged with women savior."

There was a friendly male laughter, which was replaced by an unkind scolding:

"Jokers, may you grow polyps on your tongues...."

The dark elf did not listen to further conversation and continued. There was still much to do, and the night was not as long as it might seem. When he reached the quay and wharves, he looked down from the top of the outermost roof, hiding in the shadows. Like everywhere else, there were enough guard patrols, mostly on the waterfront. And in the bay, lit by many underwater magical lights, numerous silhouettes of newts and mermaids were discernible. That's alright, we'll manage. Luaval jumped down from the roof, activating his levitation amulet. The amulet was almost discharged but still allowed the dark elf to reach the side of the transport ship with the prisoners, in the same place. Most of the crew was already ashore, celebrating or licking their wounds. The captives, too, were all safely off the ship. Only a few sailors on duty remained.

Slipping into the lower decks with the same copied control amulet, Luaval made his way to the right chamber-cabin, on an almost empty ship. It, like all the other chambers, was open and empty. Stopping at the side of the entrance, the dark elf tapped quietly on the doorjamb several times. After waiting for ten heartbeats, Luaval whispered:

"The thicker the darkness, the brighter the light."

After a moment, a strained female voice sounded:

"And the clearer the shadows of it."

All right. As he entered the cell, Luaval deactivated the cloaking amulet. A few moments later, the six prisoners now being sought throughout the city and its outskirts appeared before him out of nowhere. Nodding to them, the dark elf spoke:

"All right. Let's go, we need to get to the shelter before dawn."

"How are we going to do that?" The eldest of the dwarves grumbled, casting wary glances at the dark elf.

He couldn't see Luaval's face but probably recognized the distinctive clothing. And the reputation of dark elves did not inspire trust.

"Isn't it obvious? On the boat. Here's some fresh amulets. Activate them and follow me. Watch your step and be quiet."

Without anyone noticing, the prisoners, accompanied by Luaval, left the ship, straight down the gangway. The sailors on duty on the ship were busy drinking quietly, remonstrating with their comrades, and cursing the fire witch, not even realizing that this very witch, who wasn't really a witch, but a spellcaster, was sneaking just a few meters away from them. Unlike the quay, the wharf was almost unlit, and the group of fugitives were able to reach the end of it without a problem, without anyone noticing. There, at the very edge, was moored a small fishing boat with a trio of islanders, one older and two younger were leisurely preparing for a night of fishing. All as one were tanned, with short, curly dark hair, and dressed in simple short pants and vests. One was checking nets, another wicker cage traps for bottom mites, and a third was working on baits. Nothing special. Unless you know where to look and what to look for. For example, the fact they were staring into the darkness as if they were waiting for something. And they did.

"The tide brings a lot of things."

When they heard the voice from the darkness, they all shuddered and became visibly tense. Then, the older one quietly said in a tense voice:

"But the tide is taking much more. Hurry up and get in, we don't have much time!"

One by one, the prisoners and their rescuer climbed onto the barge. One by one the prisoners and their rescuer climbed into the longboat:

"Let's get in the hold, quick!"

"What?! There..."

"Shut up and do as you're told. Now!" Luaval cut off the older dwarf's outrage.

The older of the bearded men, who had tried to protest, fell silent, his eyes glittering with displeasure, but he climbed into the cramped hold of the small longboat, which was damp, stinking of fish, and cramped. The others followed him.

"Be quiet! We're gonna have to be like this for a couple of hours, no other way."

Closing the hatch cover behind the last prisoner, the older of the islanders nodded to the younger ones:

"Let's go! We go as usual."

After which he turned to Luaval and whispered:

"Might be a little tricky. After today, there are a lot of underwater guards and a couple of patrol ships on the way out of the bay."

The dark elf who remained outside said calmly:

"We can manage. Put these amulets all over the ship. And dust it with this powder."

The older islander took the outstretched artifacts, but did not move:

"It's a big risk. Bigger than the one we agreed to."

Who would doubt it? The dark elf slipped his hand into the shoulder bag he'd taken on the way, pulled out a small purse, and said philosophically:

"Few things are constant in this world. Human greed is one of those things."

Tossing the purse to the senior, Luaval continued:

"There's a hundred white pearls and fifty black pearls. And just to be on the safe side I remind you.. Don't spend too much at once. You'll attract attention. And the dead don't need riches."

The grinning islander tucked the purse of pearls into a small double-bottomed chest on the captain's bridge and said cheerfully:

"I know, I've lived and worked with people like you for years."

The bark moored off the wharf and headed for the exit of the bay. It was low tide now, and there was no problem getting out, even if there was no wind. At the exit were a couple of small and fast ships anchored there and a few small boats. In the water, on the other hand, several squads of newts were visible. But fortunately, the bark with the captives was not the only one that was now out to sea for night fishing. Therefore, most of the ships weren't even thickly searched, and there shouldn't be any trouble. And for that reason, Luaval's nerves were taut as a string. If they were discovered, things were going to get very bad. The bearded men would have to be abandoned, and it would be good if he could get away himself. The stimulating alchemy had already stopped working, as well as the body and sense-enhancing charms. The fatigue was getting worse. When the bark reached the exit, the dark elf clutched the two most powerful battle amulets he had left.

The older islander exchanged a few words with one of the armed sailors on the small boat, said hello to the others, received wishes for a good catch, and returned the favor. At that moment, a wave of scanning magic traveled through the ship, and Luaval tensed, ready to strike and flee. But the amulets worked properly, concealing the presence of intruders on the ship. The bark successfully went to sea, the captain's children set sail, and it was not far from the shore. The sea was calm, there were no waves, and several other fishing boats could be seen nearby. When it reached the right place, the captain lit lanterns on the stern and bow, took off from his neck an enchanted whistle made of a small shell, and blew into it with force. In a few minutes, the light of the magic lamps appeared in the water and several newts with leather straps with enchanted pearls on their foreheads emerged from the water. They began exchanging greetings with each other, discussing the horror had happened in the bay this afternoon, and washing the bones and tails of their fellow competitors. It took almost half an hour, after which people and newts got down to business. Underwater dwellers are lifted from the bottom of the cages with Pincers. In exchange received empty ones with ready-made baits. The process was not fast, because the depth here was not the smallest, and it was necessary to choose a place for the trap.

At one point, instead of newts, a pair of young and pretty mermaids with milky white skin and long dark hair suddenly emerged from the water. Clinging to the side of the boat so that the human parts of their bodies were visible to the islanders, they threw their wet hair behind their backs, showing the absence of the usual sea-dweller's vests and naked tits of no small size. The older one had larger breasts and was about a size four. The younger one was a solid three. Smiling with pearly white teeth, the older mermaid folded her arms on her chest, favorably emphasizing her insignificant tits, and said in a playful voice:

"Good catch, boys! Don't you miss me? We can brighten your night if you need it."

The brothers instantly cheered up and threw glances at their father. He rolled his eyes and waved his hand, saying, do what you want. The brothers instantly jumped up to the naked sea creatures and asked in a cheerful voice:

"And how much is your entertainment?"

The older one instantly stamped out:

"Handjob five, blowjob twenty, with tits groping thirty, under the tale forty, all together fifty."

"I want blowjob with groping."

"Me too."

"As you wish."

The captain's children helped the two mermaids climb aboard and sit down on the deck, leaning their backs against the side and stretching forward their fishtails with dark gray scales and black fins. After that, the islanders quickly counted out sixty coins, handed them to the older sea creatures, and unzipped their pants, exposing their assets. The older mermaid quickly counted the island coins with a hole in the center, connected them with a special cord, and put them in a pocket on her wide belt. Then she started to work, she put one hand around the base of the cock of one of the brothers, exposed the head, and began to suck it diligently. With her other hand, she squeezed his scrotum and began to massage it. The one with the satisfied face stretched his hands down, one resting on her head, guiding her movements, and the other squeezing her breasts. Next to her, her young female comrade was sucking the captain's second son just as skillfully and diligently, swallowing him completely to the ground. He was also guiding her head with one hand and playing with the mermaid's breasts with the other.

The older mermaid was the first to finish, bringing her client to the finish with her skillful tongue and swallowing all the seed. Wiping her lips, she leaned back on the side of the boat and put her hands behind her back, letting her client play with her breasts some more. At the same time, she glanced at the brothers' father, who was preparing another batch of trap cages:

"Would the captain care to have some fun?"

"The captain's had his fun with the beauties of the sea a long time ago."

"As you wish."

At this moment, her friend and comrade also brought the second brother to the finish, taking all his seed in her mouth. Having given a little more tit fondling, the representatives of the oldest profession both on land and underwater jumped overboard, waving their tails in farewell, and disappeared into the dark water, heading for the next ship. The islanders went back to work. The exchange of cages continued for almost an hour, after which, having said goodbye to the newts and given them their share for the sale of the previous catch, the longboat headed back to the shore. But not to Kuordemar Bay, but to the bay of a small fishing village one hour's walk from the capital. The village was still mostly asleep, and the bulk of the night fishermen were still at sea. The captain pulled open the hatch leading to the hold and docked at the end of the pier.

"Get out, we're here."

One by one, several blurry silhouettes appeared outside. Very disgruntled silhouettes that smelled strongly of fish. But before any of them could start to complain, Luaval cut them all off with a gesture and said firmly:

"Not now. We have to leave. We have to make it before dawn."

Nodding goodbye to the captain, the dark elf left the longboat with the freed prisoners and quickly headed through the empty streets of the sleeping town toward the road leading to the capital. Seeing this, the red-haired spellcaster approached Luaval and whispered:

"Are we going back to Kuordemar?!"

"Yes."

"Are you crazy?"

"Do you know of a safe shelter on the island where we can hide from pursuit?"

" Of course not..."

"Then we're going to Kuordemar. There's a safe house I know of. We go in silence."

The spellcaster unaccustomed to such a tone, clearly wanted to object, but common sense prevailed, and she remained silent. They reached the outskirts of the capital of the Island Kingdom an hour before dawn when the sky in the east was just beginning to lighten. Just at the right time. The city was mostly asleep, and it was possible to reach the right house under disguise without incident. Although, there were a couple of times when they had to hide from the patrols of the guards. Finally, the tired and weary captives reached a tall building not far from the wall separating the Imperial City from the suburbs. The first two floors of the building were occupied by a trading shop and utility rooms, with living quarters at the top. Luaval knocked a few times in the agreed manner. Almost immediately a small window opened:

"Who's come so early?"

"A lost crow and its chicks."

The window closed, and there was a thud as the deadbolt was pulled back. A few seconds later, the door opened, and a well-fed islander with shoulder-length curly hair and a well-groomed beard, visibly touched with gray, appeared. With a glance around, he opened the door wide and whispered:

"Hurry up and get inside!"

"Letting Luaval and the fugitives in, he hurriedly locked the door, activated a pretty good signaling thread, then whispered:"

"Everything is ready in the basement. Food, drink, water for washing and clean clothes. But no noise! The guards have come twice in the past day and night! If they find you, we'll all be fed to the spawn of the abyss after what you've done!"

The captives cast surprised glances at Luaval, but he did not react in any way, only waved at them:

"Do as you're told. You can rest until noon, and then we can start discussing our next steps. No arguing! I'm tired and in a very bad mood."

No one argued. The captives went to the cellar, where everything was prepared for them. Luaval stayed behind to talk to the shopkeeper. As soon as the rescued men were out of sight the elf launched into an angry tirade. But in a whisper:

"What kind of massacre are you doing?! Are you crazy?! Now the whole town is on its feet! All the guards have been mobilized! The King has put a huge bounty on that mad witch's head! There are already detailed descriptions of her all over the city! That's..."

"I did it. Alone."

The peddler froze at half a word, looking at Luaval, whose face was still hidden by the hooded mask. There was silence for a moment, then the dark elf held out another purse to the visibly pale islander. A large purse.

"Here's the reward you were promised. And there's more on top, as a bonus."

When the sum was calculated, the peddler's eyes popped out of their orbits in surprise. But he pulled himself together almost immediately, regaining his unruffled face. Humans.

"Have you prepared what you requested?"

"Uh... Yeah... I mean, it's almost done! There are only a few items left. It'll be delivered in a couple of days! It can't be sooner than that, otherwise there will be suspicions..."

"You have two days. No more. Unless, of course, you want another bonus."

At the word bonus, the peddler's eyes sparkled and he nodded confidently:

"It will be done, honorable, you may rest assured, I..."

"Good. I'll report on your zeal and enthusiasm. I will report on your zeal and enthusiasm. Are my chambers ready?"

"Yes, of course, it's just like you...."

"That's fine. I'm not to be disturbed until noon. Unless they come to search the place."

Yeah, yeah, I know. Please follow me.

Luaval's room was at the top of the building. It was indeed prepared just as the dark elf had ordered. After saying goodbye to the bowing peddler, who had made more money that night than he had in the past six months, Luaval began to prepare for rest. Check the room. Place the signaling and masking amulets. Check the food. Check the water. Clear. Water!

When he was sure that the water in the jug was not dangerous, the dark elf drank it greedily. Halfway through the jug, he drank a vial of detoxicant and then finished the entire jug. Then he sat on the floor, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes, beginning a set of restorative treatments. Soon, his body began to tremble, and large drops of sweat appeared on his skin. Still, the alchemy had been too much, and the detoxification was late. But there was no other way. Damn it. After I returned, I would have to undergo a full recovery at the Royal Hospital. This sucks.

He had to fill the jug in the barrel of drinking water twice more drain it completely and drink another vial. It was only after an hour that the dark elf felt relatively well. Immediately, a terrible fatigue set in. But instead of sleeping, he pulled out an artifact diary and a stylus from his shoulder bag. The report first

* * *

A new concern for the Elf Queen