Extinction

"Not cursed," the old man said. "Diseased. And it's a disease that can be spread. . through bites."

"They call us 'monsters, " Yarno added in a pained whisper. "They hunt us."

Ryld nodded, understanding the boy's pain. Life as a werewolf in that forest would be much like living in the slums of Menzoberranzan.

He recalled his own childhood, always dreading the next group of drunken nobles who round sport in raging through the narrow streets, blasting the screaming wretches of the Braeryn with bolts of magic, slashing as they rode past on their lizards, leaving their victims to bleed to death on the dirty stone of an alley.

The boy, Yarno, was staring intensely up at Ryld, his eyes filled with a lingering, unsalved hurt. Human the boy might be, but looking into his eyes was like staring into a mirror. Ryld's lips parted, and he nearly spoke the words aloud: I was hunted, too. I understand?

Then the boy's grandfather interrupted.

"I have belladonna," he said. "Yarno's parents planted it in the woods, hoping it would.. spare their son. This was once their home." He paused to catch his breath, then went on. "The herb will make you sick, but if you eat it… you might avoid the disease."

Ryld nodded and sheathed his sword.

"Tell me where the temple is, and I'll see what I can do to clean your wound, and set those bones. Then I'll think about trying that belladonna."

Chapter Twelve

Valas awoke to the feel of something soft and slimy stroking the left side of his face. Jerking his head back, he saw it was a tentacle?one of four that grew from the body of an enormous, fishlike creature with three slitted eyes.

Thrashing away from it through the water, Valas found his back up against the bars of a cage. He stared out through the front of the enclosure at the aboleth that was lazily withdrawing its tentacle. The creature had a body half a dozen paces long, with a wide fluked tail. Its rubbery looking skin was blue-green with gray splotches and covered in a thick coating of slime. Its belly was greenish-pink, with an enormous mouth that opened and closed like that of a fish. Three eyes?red and slitted?were lined up in a vertical row on its forehead. The tentacles, each half as long as the body, sprouted from a point just behind the head. They drifted lazily, leaving a smudge of slime in the water.

Valas could feel the slime on his face where the tentacle had touched him, and he could smell the clot of it that clogged his left nostril. He exhaled through his nose, blowing it violently away.

He checked his weapons and saw that his kukris were still in their sheaths. A quick glance told him his talismans were still pinned to his shirt. Reassured and ready, he looked around at his prison.

The cage was made from stout iron and had no door that he could see. Its floor rested on the bottom of the lake, on top of waist-high kelp that had been mashed flat by its weight. Beyond the cage, tiny glowing fish darted in and out of the gently waving strands. In the distance, stalagmites rose to meet the surface of the water, high overhead. The sides of those rock formations were punctuated by round openings through which aboleth swam. Valas realized the stalagmites must be the buildings of Zanhoriloch.

The aboleth was making no move to attack; it simply stared, like a visitor at a zoo. Valas spoke to it in sign, hoping it would understand.

Why am I a prisoner?

The answer came in a voice that sounded like bubbles erupting into water: "You trespass."

The words were spoken in Undercommon, a language comprised of a blend of simple words and phrases from several different Underdark tongues.

For good reason, Valas signed back. With his lungs filled with water, the scout couldn't speak. I am searching for something, A ship of bone and flesh, made by demons.

"You hunger for this knowledge."

Yes. Have you seen such a ship?

"I have not consumed it."

Valas frowned, puzzled. The slime the aboleth had smeared across his face was back in his left nostril again. He pinched the other one shut and blew.

You have seen this ship?but not eaten it? he signed again.

The aboleth fluttered its tentacles in what might have been a sign of irritation?or the equivalent of a drow shrug.

"I have not seen it. Nor have I consumed any knowledge of it."

Consumed? Valas didn't like the sound of that.

How do you consume knowledge? he asked.

"From our parents, after we hatch. From other creatures, such as yourself. We consume them."

You. . eat them? Valas asked. Are you going to eat me?

"That is not my privilege," the aboleth said. Then, "Do you have knowledge of this ship?"

Valas quickly shook his head and backed it up with an emphatic sign.

No. I was told that the aboleth knew of such a ship, so I came here to learn if it was real or rumor.

"Where are you from?" the aboleth asked. "How did you come here?"