"Am I sure about this?" Faegan finally said to Abbey. "No, absolutely not! But I believe my theory is valid." Looking back toward the warship, he sighed. "Would Wigg try to skin me alive if he knew? Yes. Do those brave souls aboard that ship down there think it worth the risk? Again, yes."
"But if this works, once they are through and on the other side how will they know where they are?" Adrian asked. "To have sailed there while continually marking their progress on a chart is one thing. But to be so suddenly deposited upon the Sea of Whispers so many leagues from home seems quite another."
Faegan nodded. "Tyranny came to me last night with that very concern. We decided that once they were through, the most reliable navigational aid would be her sextant. I made some modifications to it. To come home in the same manner they must reach the exact location to which the portal brought them, or they will never find it again." Faegan scowled. "My greatest fear is not whether the portal will do its job, or whether Tyranny can return to the same set of coordinates. Rather, I am concerned about the much greater amount of power needed to conjure a portal of such size and its possibly deleterious effects on both the ship and those aboard her. But if they can get through safely, they should be all right."
"I certainly hope so," Duvessa said.
Faegan looked down at the Reprise. "So do I," he answered softly.tyranny was nervously eyeing the decks of her ship. "I hope your wizard is as good as everyone claims," she said to Shailiha.
Taking a deep draft on her cigarillo as though it were her last, she raised her face to the darkening sky and luxuriously exhaled the smoke. Then she dropped the remains of the cigarillo to the deck and ground it out with the sole of one of her scuffed knee boots.
Scars and K'jarr stood with her awaiting orders. It had been decided that while at sea, even Shailiha would come under Tyranny's command. This would be the princess' first ocean voyage, and Tyranny fervently hoped that the short spell Faegan had cast over Shailiha the previous night would keep her from becoming seasick. If the portal worked, they would exit only one day's sail from the Citadel, putting them right into demonslaver-infested waters. There would be no time for anyone to be ill.
Tyranny looked over at Scars. Her perpetually shirtless, muscle-bound first mate smiled in response. He was more than ready to intercept however many of Wulfgar's demonslavers they could find.
"Is everything in place?" she asked.
"Yes, Captain," he answered. "All of the sails are furled and double-tied. All of the hatches are closed and locked; the ship's wheel is tied off, and the rudder secured. All of our crew members and as many of the Minion warriors as possible have gone below. We're as ready as we will ever be."
After giving Scars a nod, Tyranny turned to K'jarr. "And your warriors remaining above decks, they are lashed to the gunwales and masts?"
"Yes, Captain," he answered. "We only await your command to begin."
"Very well," Tyranny said. "It's time."
K'jarr walked over to the foremast, followed by Scars, Tyranny, and Shailiha. The women watched as Scars tied K'jarr to the mast. Then Tyranny did the same for Scars, pulling the knots as tight as she could. When she was finished, she looked up at them both.
"Good luck, gentlemen," she said. "The Afterlife willing, we'll see you on the other side."
Taking Shailiha by the arm, Tyranny walked her to the prow of the ship, where she tied the princess securely to several iron rings that had been screwed into the gunwale just for this purpose. Once satisfied, she did the same to herself, as best she could. She looked over at Shailiha.
"I fear we may be in for a very rough ride," she said. "Even Faegan isn't sure how long it will last. Not exactly the most genteel way to take your first sea voyage, is it?"
"True." Shailiha did her best to smile. "But I trust in Faegan. What shall be, shall be."
Tyranny nodded. She looked up into the sky near the bow of the ship and called down the warrior who had been hovering there, waiting for her command. He was by her side in an instant.
"Tell Master Faegan that all is ready," she ordered.
The warrior clicked his heels together. "I live to serve," came the reply, and he launched himself toward the litter. From their places in the bow Shailiha and Tyranny could just make out Faegan's form. They watched the wizard raise his hands.
Almost at once the Reprise's anchor rose from the seafloor, its chain clanking as the anchor wheel took up its length. Then the anchor slipped itself up and into its mooring station. The unfettered Reprise drifted freely. That was when the howling began.
Just forward of the bow, a huge azure portal formed. Its swirling vortex was as tall and as broad as the ship.
Then the howling increased. Shailiha thought her eardrums might burst, and suddenly felt terrified. She had been through one of Faegan's portals before, but it had never made noise.
As the vortex engulfed the bow of the Reprise, Shailiha began to feel the effects of the portal making her sleepy and dizzy. She tried to call out to Tyranny, but she couldn't make her mouth work, much less make herself heard above the din.
Her head slumped to her breast.
Far above, Faegan and the others watched as the shrieking, whirling azure portal swallowed up the warship and then disappeared. stunned, bratach lowered his spyglass. he stood upon the invisible frigate, his endowed blood shielded from Faegan's senses, savoring the marvelous coincidence that had seen him checking his ship and its demonslavers the same day Faegan had used his portal. Initially, his interest had been piqued by the sight of Tyranny and the Minions making preparations to get under way. Then, when Faegan had unexpectedly appeared in a litter overhead, he knew he would simply have to stay to learn what he could.
What the crafty, crippled old wizard had just accomplished was impressive. Bratach could not be sure where the Reprise was going, but he had his suspicions. Still, if the plan was to attack the Citadel, why send only one ship? The Minion force aboard her was not sufficient to seize the island. Why weren't the First Wizard and the Jin'Sai aboard? But in the end, none of that mattered. Even if that was where the Reprise was headed, Bratach had no way to warn his lord in time.
Looking back to the sky, he saw Faegan's litter depart for Tammerland. As the litter shrank against the sunset, another thought occurred to him. Faegan had been very clever-but not quite clever enough. Now Bratach knew Faegan's secret of the portal. When his master arrived, together they would turn it against their enemy.
Smiling, Bratach turned and walked down the deck, feeling his way along the invisible gunwale until he found the gangway. He walked carefully down the stairs and went to confer with his demonslavers. more than halfway across the sea, an azure radiance grew and grew until the portal's swirling vortex formed and the deafening howling began. It was night and the seas were high. The sky was cloudy and threatening. In the distance the first branches of lightning were visible, scratching their way closer across the darkness.
Like some plague-ridden ghost ship from the past suddenly returned to haunt the present, the Reprise was vomited from the portal's mouth to land harshly upon the waves. Its job done, the portal vanished.
The ocean tossed the ship back and forth mercilessly. One of her masts was cracked and her bowsprit was gone. Her sails still furled and her ship's wheel tied off, she was helpless against the sea.
Then the first of the stressed planks in her keel suddenly let loose. Seawater rushed in. The storm arrived and the rain began in earnest, bringing with it thunder and lighting. White-capped waves rose higher as the storm-tossed ship began to list from the water invading her belly. Despite the storm and the ship's violent rocking, none of those aboard had yet awoken from the passage through the portal.
Her head lying upon her chest and the gold medallion around her neck swinging back and forth in the relentless rain, Shailiha of the House of Galland slumped forward in her bonds.
Then lightning clove the mizzen mast in two. When it came crashing down upon the deck it fell upon deaf ears.<
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CHAPTER XXVIII
Lying on his back before the campfire, with his head propped up on a log, Geldon contemplated all of the amazing things he had witnessed over the course of the last several days. In his heart he had to admit that none of it was good.
They were close to Tammerland. They had stopped to make camp just west of Tanglewood, near the still-smoldering canyon that the rampaging orb had gouged into the earth. The note he had sent by Minion messenger would soon reach the wizards. But after seeing the orb cut through the Tolenka Mountains, he knew that he had to return there to observe it again, if he was to have any hope of ever properly describing it. The wizards would have many questions. He hoped he could answer them.
He had wanted to leave Ox in charge of the Minion party remaining with the orb, but the huge warrior wanted to see Tristan again. Geldon had finally relented and left an officer of Ox's choosing in charge. His orders were to send a warrior to the palace immediately should there be any change in either the condition of the orb or its direction of travel. Thrilled to be in charge of his first command, the young Minion had clicked his heels sharply.
The destruction of Brook Hollow, the encounter with the birds and animals fleeing the forest fire, and then his escape from an onrushing glacier had all taken their toll upon Geldon's nerves. That was to say nothing of watching the orb cut through solid granite. It would be good to be back in the palace again, he thought, and to sleep in his own bed.
He smiled. He could already picture the vein in Wigg's forehead throbbing, and Faegan as he sat there calmly in his chair on wheels, stroking his dark blue cat while the two wizards listened to Geldon's every word.
He took another long pull of akulee from the carved stone jug he held. The Minion ale was exceedingly strong. Since traveling with the Minions, he had developed a taste for the bitter concoction. Taking another sip, he promised himself that he wouldn't become drunk.
The night was clear, and a million stars competed with one another for space in the heavens. A stag had been hunted down and killed by two of the warriors; the slowly roasting venison smelled wonderful as a cook turned it on the spit. The flickering firelight showed up the sides of the dozen or so tents that had been erected.
Geldon could occasionally see flying warriors on patrol, their dark silhouettes flashing spectrally across the faces of the three Eutracian moons. The mighty Sippora River babbled happily by only a few meters away. For the first time since leaving the palace the dwarf was beginning to feel relaxed.
Ox came over and sat down heavily in the grass. He picked up the akulee jug, took a long drink, and then wiped his mouth with the back of one hand.
Smiling at Geldon, he handed the jug back. His mood more sanguine than it had been in days, Geldon took another swig.
"Warriors say for one your size you drink akulee good," Ox said in his broken Eutracian. "You also brave. If you be bigger and have wings, you make good Minion."
Looking back into the fire, Geldon laughed.
Another warrior walked up. In his hands he held a plate that was piled high with freshly cooked venison. With a bow, he placed it on the ground between them, and Ox and Geldon ate greedily, washing the meat down with gulps of akulee.
The sound of music suddenly surprised Geldon. Looking around, he saw a warrior sitting on a tree stump near the edge of the camp and strumming a lyre. The melody that wafted through the air was lovely. Then the warrior began reciting something as he played. Other warriors gathered around him, listening with rapt attention.
Geldon turned to Ox. The Minion scowled.
"That be H'rani," he said, chewing and talking at the same time. "He always be playing that thing."
"What is it that he is reciting?"
"It be love poem," Ox answered. Yet another hunk of meat went into his mouth. "He write himself."
Even more interested, Geldon sat up a little. He knew that the Minions were great builders, shipwrights, and warriors. But he had never known any of them to demonstrate a talent for the finer arts.
"He's very good," Geldon said. "We should thank him."
Taking up the jug again, Ox drank for what seemed forever. Some of the ale ran sloppily down his chin and onto his black body armor. Finally he stopped and wiped his face. A loud wet belch followed. Smiling, Geldon shook his head a little.
"No need thank H'rani," Ox answered. "Thank Jin'Sai."
"What do you mean?"
"Ever since Jin'Sai free female Minions and Gallipolai that day in Parthalon, they act strange. Females want men come court them before take as wife. But Minion warriors not know how. For centuries they only take. Some like new ways, some not. All females seem to like much better. Ox find it all strange. But is law of Jin'Sai, so all males respect it." Ox looked critically toward H'rani.
"It said that H'rani soon ask for hand of Gallipolai," Ox added, his mouth twisting with mild disgust. "That she like this thing with lyre. One of acolytes give H'rani lyre and show him how play. Then he make up poem. Other warriors hear him, and now want also learn." He shook his head with a derisive snort.
"You don't seem to approve," Geldon said lightly.
"Ox believe it be embarrassing for true Minion warrior."
Geldon smiled. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Don't you think that a Minion can be a warrior and a poet, too?"
With a dissatisfied grunt, Ox started tearing into another piece of meat. Geldon settled back to listen to the music.
So much is changing, the dwarf thought. trying her best to exercise patience and control, Satine realized that she had only a few more meters to go.
As she lay upon her belly in the dewy underbrush, she raised her eyes a fraction and quickly noted her bearings. She had been crawling through the thick undergrowth for nearly an hour, and time was precious now. At any moment her target might move, rendering all of her painstaking work meaningless.
Her black combat clothing was soaked through. Clenching her jaw, she fought back the urge to shiver.
As she had traveled north on horseback she had followed the scar in the earth left by the orb, just as Bratach's note had told her to do. Coming up over a ridge, she had seen the Minion campfires burning in the valley below. She also knew that she would never be able to cross that much illuminated ground without being seen. Another way would have to be found.
Leaving her horse behind, she selected only what she would need to do the job. She placed the items into a waterproof oilskin bag. After changing into her dark clothing, she slung the bag over her back and crept down the rise to stand on the banks of the Sippora.
She slipped silently into the river and began wading north along the bank, heading upstream. With only her nose and eyes above the surface of the water, the going was very hard. Twice she had been forced to stop and rest, clinging to vines that lined the shore. Twice she had been forced to submerge entirely, when Minion patrols appeared overhead. Every bone in her body ached from the cold, but her discipline held.
In the end it had been worth it. She was now only about fifty meters from the camp. Suddenly the sound of music came to her ears, and she paused for a moment to listen. She smiled. The noise was welcome; it could do nothing but help her.
She slithered like a snake up the western side of the riverbank and entered the dense undergrowth. There she silently crawled forward, one agonizingly slow meter at a time. Then she heard voices that were all too close, and she froze.
At least two Minion warriors walked through the shorter grass on her left. They couldn't be more than four or five meters away. Satine slowly moved her hands down toward the daggers on either side of her thighs. Then the warriors' voices went still, and she sensed that they had stopped.
Praying that they hadn't detected her presence, Satine controlled her breathing and calmed her heart. If she had to attack them she would. But that might alert the entire camp-in which case, she'd be done for.
As she lay there awaiting her fate, the wind swished the grasses to and fro. She felt as though Eut
racia's three moons conspired to shine their light down upon her alone. Despite the chill of the night air and the cold, wet clothing sticking to her skin, beads of sweat began to form beneath her black mask and run maddeningly down her face. Still, she did not move.
Suddenly she heard the sound of streaming water. She listened as it went on for a bit. It finally ended. Satine allowed herself a slight smile. With nature's call having been answered, the warriors began to move again, laughing as they went.
A few moments later, she risked raising herself up on her hands to look. She watched them enter the camp and blend in among the other winged ones. She also noted that her target was still in the same place. Thanking her good fortune, she lowered herself back to the ground and resumed her slow forward crawl.
After another half hour of slow progress, she stopped on a short rise that overlooked the campsite. The foliage surrounding her was high, keeping her well concealed, but she would soon be discovered if she did not quickly finish her business.
The huge bearded warrior and the hunchbacked dwarf sat side by side, eating and drinking in the light of the fire. The smell of roasted venison made her stomach growl. She was less than ten meters from the edge of the camp.
Reaching behind her, she grasped the oilskin pouch and placed it on the ground. She opened it and removed four items.
The first was a small leather case. Two dull wooden tubes followed. Inside, the fine, aged Eutracian maple had been carefully polished smooth. Grasping the first of them, she inserted one of its ends into the end of the other, making sure that it seated properly. Then she placed the joined tubes on the ground beside her.
Next she opened the case. It separated like two halves of a book. It protected the vial of violet fluid she had purchased from Reznik, as well as a set of darts. Short and slim, they had been charmed by Reznik to dissolve immediately upon impact, while the insect wings attached to them were charmed to stay attached in flight. She smiled at the cleverness of it all.
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