The next day was worse. The leafy fingers continued to grow around them, and it took constant work to keep the ship from becoming ensnared. The water was dark and evil-smelling, and now and then bloated fish could be seen, swimming unusually close to the surface in crazy patterns, as if trying to find their way in the murk. The Company actually tried the strategy of lowering Tanurendal on a rope in hopes that he could cut a better path through the weed with his sword, but this only served to expose him even faster to the hallucinogenic effects of the gas given off by the foul bladders as they popped.
Racking his memory for some memory of this phenomena, Vanera was able to identify the patch of weeds and evil water as a "Poisoned Tide," a long tendril of tainted water flowing out of the black Hills, which stretches sometimes as far West as even the Red Isle. He was able to recall the following verses about it from the Lay of the Red Isle, foreboding the evil which was to come:
The second supplicant was from the South,
Where golden sunlight bathes a ragged coast
Of many craggy islands. There the prows
Of merchant ships with spices in their holds
Go sailing on where rivers run with gold.
The sailor's face was marred by many lines
And madness lurking wild in his eyes.
"O King, may Heaven grant you length of days,
To you is given from on high to hear
The prayers of those who suffer fear or pain.
Of pain my cup is empty now, but tears
Fill it brimming daily o'er with fear.
But though I weep, my friends I may not mourn.
A curse upon the day that I was born!
"Our ship was caught in a sea of poisoned weeds
Which crept on leafy fingers up our keel.
While we lay, becalmed upon the Deep
A stream of blood-black water there congealed,
And bloated fish in crazy patterns reeled.
'Twas then a choking fog brought on the night
And cut us off from Heaven's starry light.
"Seven days we wandered on the Deep
And plied our oars; no sight of moon or star
To guide our way, till there remained no strength
Of arm to row, nor hope in any heart.
Then faces pale were leering in the dark,
And now and then a cry would rend the air
And some companion vanish unawares.
"Seven days, and only five remained
Of those of us who left the sunny South.
Seven days, or seventy, insane
We raved and gnawed our limbs with thirsty mouths.
Then the weeds were heavy on the prow;
They squeezed, and split, and pulled the vessel down
And in the poisoned tide the sailors drowned.
"I alone of all that crew survived--
Set adrift and clinging to a spar
Until from sun and salt I nearly died.
At last, with half-blind eyes and throat all parched
I washed upon a rocky island's shore.
From there, a passing merchant heard my plea,
And so I come to sing my woe to thee."
The next day, the weeds worsened (actually creeping up onto the deck now). A fog rolled in, making navigation nearly impossible. In addition to the same work which was required to keep the deck clear, Setela was becoming more and more erratic. He sat in the prow, mostly talking to himself and looking over the side into the water. Once, when Tengelbur awoke to relieve him while he is on watch, they find him drenched and picking the weed out of his hair, as though he has just come up out of the water. However, whenever questioned about this, he would only say that they were "close" to their destination. Finally, the Company decided they had had enough, and were not even sure if they should trust him. Intimidating Setela, they forced him to tell a modified version of his story: his ship had not been lost in a storm, but rather it had been caught in one of these Poisoned Tides, the weeds of which are strong enough to pull a ship apart in the water. Setela managed to escape, explaining that there is an island nearby which the Poisoned tide will not go near. He promised that, if the Company could get the ship there, they would be safe.
By the end of that day, they were in sight of the island in question, though the thick weeds had ground their progress nearly to a halt. Despite his growing madness, Setela managed to continue to pilot the ship. That night, the ship was surrounded by a dense fog, and the mists around them consolidated into several wraith-like shapes which attacked the party. Using fire, the Company managed to drive these off--though not before Tengelbur had been knocked unconscious not once, but twice, a wraith drawing something out of his chest as Tengelbur's own face appeared to be stolen by the wraith. Each time, Tengelbur was rescued by his companions, and in the end the wraiths were all driven off. During the battle Setela had sat on the deck, hugging his knees and rocking himself, though the wraiths would not touch him, and the Company began to suspect the wraiths were the remnants of his previous sailing companions...
