They got out of there and back to town. Meadow reported on her own, leaving Arlen to take a break. Then he got summoned to the chief's place again.

The staff-wielding lady said, "So you have some insight and some fighting skill. That's interesting. But if you want to change our situation, we need our people back."

"From Decim, and from New... I mean, Death Island?"

She glanced aside, quelling what seemed to be an ongoing argument from her inner circle. "Three of our kin are on Decim. The fourth hostage is on Death Island, and arguably he deserved it. I would be satisfied knowing that the three are back safely."

"If that happened, you'd then be free to say No to whatever Thoko demands."

"We would. The question then is how we might make that happen."

Arlen was glad the discussion had moved to "we". He began talking about military tactics.

The chief shushed him after a few minutes. "That's probably useful, but a large and loud raid isn't what we need. Not against the heart of the High Chief's domain. Since you have water magic, have you learned yet how to breathe underwater?"

#

Arlen went back to Opaline exhausted and shaken. They'd given him a crash course in a more advanced magical technique. It drew on both his martial arts style and the more sedate, prepared kind of casting. With a halo of magic around his head, the water grew thinner and he could gulp it down, flooding his lungs without drowning.

It had not been a fun lesson, what with instructors forcing him underwater for minutes at a time and warning him he'd either learn or ruin the plan. When his spell finally rippled into existence at his own desperate command, they made him stay under even longer and get used to feeling he was going to drown. Finally they let him up and he lay miserably on the beach, retching up saltwater again and again.

When he could finally talk, he groaned and said, "I like the air bubble method better. Can we do that instead?"

His instructor, a beefy old fisher who didn't look like a wizard at all, laughed and slapped him on the back, making him hiccup. "Better to know how to do it yourself, with what element you've got! This lasts longer anyhow."

So after that wonderful experience, Arlen sailed back, and a party of three fighting men came along, including the fisher-mage. Spears and rope and bows filled half the space in their two boats.

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On Opaline Island, there was a conference that Arlen was only allowed to hear some of. All the proposed raiders shared a drink of rum and a good meal. They trained for a while, rested, and prepared to leave by evening.

#

A total of six boats and twenty men were ready. For the islanders it was a significant war expedition. But as Arlen had suggested, there was staging and trickery involved. It began with ignoring the Guiding Reef.

His allies didn't understand. They patiently explained how anyone sailed from the one island to the other. When they began telling the story of how it was discovered, Arlen interrupted. "In Thoko's place, how would you watch for an attack from Opaline?"

One warrior said, "From the shore of Decim, maybe up a tree."

"From the reef!" said Arlen. "He'll have somebody there, ready to ride and sound the alarm."

"But you can't just wait on the reef."

"Is there something preventing you from sitting on the platform with some bread and water for a few days? It's above high tide and most waves."

"But nobody does that. You rest and then move on."

Arlen slicked back his hair. "Arrgh. All I'm saying is, we can sail around the reef by a few miles and then we won't be spotted. You know which direction the target is."

The doctor of Opaline gave him a sympathetic smile. "Arlen, I think I understand your fear. But Thoko won't put sentries on the reef. He just wouldn't. He'll trust in his own defenses. Besides, the other part of the plan will work."

The Catacomb folk had agreed to send word to Decim to warn their master that Arlen was there, building something dangerous in the ruins. That would hopefully draw some fighting men away.

Arlen went along with something like a traditional raiding plan, modifying it as much as he could get away with. When the six boats reached the Guiding Reef, Arlen was on edge, climbing the tallest mast as much as he could to see. No, there were no sentries, no canoes rushing onward to warn the boss. Arlen came down and shook his head. "And Thoko is the really forward-looking one."

"Forward to what?" asked the fisher-mage.

"That's a good question."

The group managed to catch a little sleep under canopies, there on the reef and before and after. Someone told the story of how the reef was found.

They timed the assault to happen late at night. Rain began at sunset and turned the sky crimson and black. Arlen worried for Shark Team, the squad assigned to hit another part of the beach and be ready to start a fire as a distraction. They'd figure it out though; survival skills were their specialty.

He was on Shell Team. The very idea of splitting up and coordinating was new, and had required him to get some women to give out necklaces of shark teeth and shells to make it feel official. (No seals available, sadly.) He had three boats of would-be heroes nearby, and a fourth hanging back with empty seats, slightly less brave archers, and a healer. The other two boats were Shark Team's.

The shore was barely visible ahead, dark. The sailors grew quiet and displayed no lights. Arlen refused to believe Thoko had zero sentries on shore, so he'd talked himself into a tough job. On a signal, he and nine others dropped into the sea.

Arlen cast the spell he'd learned so reluctantly, using his will and concentration to weave some aspect of oceanic power around his body. It felt like threads pulling tight. Then, he winced and gulped down seawater. After a few terrible seconds he adjusted and could swim. His eyes stung and blurred.

When he'd described the idea of swimming goggles earlier, the natives had looked at him funny. "You can't see well underwater?"

"Huh." These people were obviously more aquatic than normal humans, so maybe they had that problem covered too.