“Never mind that now. We need to board the ship and get the other
Avatars off.”
Janno grinned. “I should be able to get their attention.”
“No, I’ll do it,” Bella said behind them.
Kron turned to face her. “What are you doing here?”
“Your shouting woke us up.”
Sure enough, Galia and Caye plodded toward them. Kron felt guilty
he’d disturbed them, since they needed rest. But they might still be able
to help him.
“What’s wrong with the boat?” Bella asked. “Why is it tilting like
that?”
While they’d been distracted, the boat had sunk another handspan.
Why weren’t the other Avatars awake yet? Were they really stubborn
enough to shut themselves in the cabin while their ship sank, or had
they been spelled by the magic that had broken through the ward?
“The boat’s been sabotaged,” Kron said. “We need to wake the other
Avatars and get them off.”
“Oh, that’s easy enough. A few flea bites in sensitive areas should
get them going.”
One of the advantages of having a wife with a gift for animal magic
was that she’d discovered how to repel lice and fleas from their clothes
and bed. Kron would have expected Sylva to know that trick too, but if
she was sleeping, then she wasn’t actively protecting herself or the other
Avatars. Kron couldn’t help but grin at the thought of Magstrom’s
nose—and other areas—getting bit. Then he looked at the boat again.
This situation was too serious for jokes.
“Janno, can you do anything about that rotten wood around the
hole?” he asked again.
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 9 1
“I...I don’t know. The wood’s not alive anymore, Kron. It was easier
to work with when it was fresher. Isn’t this boat like one of your arti-
facts now?”
“Yes, but I need to move closer to the damaged area. Can you get
the ladder, or maybe make one?”
“Let me see what I can find.”
Janno retreated to the bushes at the same time as Magstrom finally
bolted out of the cabin, followed by the other Avatars.
“Kron!” Magstrom shook a fist at him. “By All Four, what are you
doing?”
“Trying to save you and the boat! You get off and let me get on!”
When he stood there, glaring at Kron as if he’d wrecked the boat,
Sylva grabbed his arm. “Do as he says, fool! Can’t you feel we’re taking
on water?”
“I’m sure he did this,” Magstrom said. However, Carver grabbed the
ladder and lowered it.
About time. Kron stuffed the glow stone back in his pouch and
climbed by feel, not sight. The ladder tilted for a heartbeat, and he
gripped it tightly, trying to brace himself against the side of the boat so
he wouldn’t fall over. Then the ladder steadied, and he hurried up as
quickly as he could.
As soon as Kron landed on the deck, he reactivated the glow stone.
Magstrom stepped in front of him before he could start searching for
the hole. “What did you do to the boat? You know the Four wanted us
to sail the Chikasi, not use your portals. Are you trying to force us to do
things your way?”
Kron sighed. He didn’t have time for explanations, especially when
he’d already given one and been ignored.
“Ask Janno what happened. Better yet, find me something water-
proof I can use as a patch. Carver, I might need your help with the
wood.”
Galia’s voice drifted up to them. “Janno, let me climb up there.”
“Mother, the boat’s sinking!”
1 9 2 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n
“It won’t with Kron here to fix it.”
At least one of the Springs believed in him. Kron let the conversation
fade into the background, like the water rippling under the ice, and
headed for the bow of the boat. Janno and the boat builder had laid a
deck over the hull of the boat instead of simply building the cabin right
on the hull. Kron had first thought the design extravagant and wasteful,
even though the boat builder had assured him the trapped air would help
keep the boat afloat. Now he appreciated their expertise. Without the
deck, the boat would be sinking even more rapidly than it was. How-
ever, the deck also blocked the hole in the hull. He might have to
remove part of the deck to fix the hole.
“Someone fetch my pouch and tools, please.” Kron paced back and
forth, narrowing down the area where the hole was. He was very close;
if he strained his ears, he could hear water bubbling up into the air space
between the deck and the hull.
“What else should we do?” Sylva asked as she handed him this
pouch.
“Leave the boat, of course.” Kron knelt and listened. Yes, the hole
was right below him.
“Isn’t there anything we can do to help?” Domina asked. “Do you
want me to freeze the water so it stops coming in?”
“Freeze all of the water? That could break the boat!”
“That’s not what I meant. I could create an ice cap over the hole.”
Kron glanced at Domina. “Do you really have that much control?”
“Of course!” She’d draped herself in a blanket, and her hair was
loose of its normal elaborate style, but she still seemed not just deter-
mined, but fully restored.
“Then do it.” If she could manage the ice cap, it would give Kron
more time to seal the hole. He still hadn’t found anything that could
work as a patch.
Domina knelt next to him. Kron ran his fingers along the planks,
searching for the pegs that held them together. When he found one, he
summoned it out of the plank with his magic and set it aside. Three
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 9 3
more pegs followed rapidly, but the plank was so well shaped it fit in
snugly next to the other ones, as if all the boards had grown like this in
the tree trunk. He pressed against one end, but the board remained stuck.
Kron pulled a knife out of his pouch and outlined the board with the tip,
sending thoughts of separation through the blade. This time, he was able
to pop the board out of the deck. Cautiously holding the glow stone over
the opening, Kron peered into the air space.
A stench both magical and mundane assaulted him. Part rotten fish,
part spoiled egg, and part blood and death, the odor presented a barrier
almost as strong as the planks of the boat. Kron wished Galia was here
to block his sense of smell; it would need healing after he was done. For
now, he gripped his robe in his teeth and drew it up over part of his face.
The protections he’d placed on the cloth didn’t remove the bad smell
completely, but it did filter out part of the odor, confirming Kron’s
guess that Salth’s magic had contributed to it. If only he could fix the
hole as easily.
He had to get down on his stomach and press his head against the
deck to see the hole—or rather, Domina’s ice cap. It glinted against the
dark water like silver in a pile of rocks. He maneuvered so he could
stick his hand into the a
ir space. Only by moving to the edge of the
plank and stretching his arm until he nearly dislocated his shoulder was
he able to touch the hole. He found the ice first. As Domina had prom-
ised, she hadn’t frozen all of the water, but it still stole warmth and
flexibility from his fingers. The cap was slightly smaller than his hand.
When Kron touched the edge of the wood, he could feel what Janno had
described. The wood crumbled under his touch like cheese. Underneath
the physical damage he could feel the oily magic of Salth. Or was it
hers? Something about it felt different. But Kron had no time to ponder
the difference. The ice plug Domina had created slipped out of the hole.
The cursed wood wouldn’t be able to accept a patch until he removed
Salth’s magic.
Domina’s eyes were shut, a sign she was probably still trying to
make another ice plug for the hole. Was anyone else on the boat?
1 9 4 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n
“Can someone bring me my bag from the cabin?” he called.
When no one answered, he grumbled and extracted his arm from the
hole, then struggled to his feet. He might not be as old as Galia, but he
felt like it tonight. There was a noticeable tilt in the deck as he made his
way to the cabin. Even with a glow stone, it took him longer than he
wanted to find something that would contain Salth’s magic. He settled
for an empty perfume bottle with a clay stopper. He rolled the bottle in
his hands, enhancing its strength, as he returned to the boat’s bow.
Domina’s eyes were open. “I lost the ice cap, and I can’t make an-
other one.” she told him, hugging her knees to her chest.
“Let me disenchant the wood first before you try it again. Do you
think you could remove the water?”
“My magic isn’t about water; it’s about...weather.” She gestured at
the sky. “I need more space, or sunlight, to do anything with it.”
“Then find some buckets. We’ll need to bail out some water after
I’m done.”
This time when he plunged his arm into the gap, water reached half-
way up to his elbow. The bottle resisted his efforts to force it next to the
hole, but since the bottle was only as long as his forefinger, he had
enough strength to overcome the repelling spell Salth had woven into
her curse. As soon as the bottle’s lip sank into the soft wood, Kron ex-
erted his own magic and pulled Salth’s curse into the bottle. Her magic
had no mass or form, but even so, the bottle felt heavier. When Kron
judged he’d captured the entire spell, he pulled the bottle away, capping
it as quickly as he could. Part of him wanted to hurl the bottle into the
river, but who knew how long the curse would have power? The bottle
could break, or the stopper come loose, leaving the curse free to damage
something else. For now, he’d label the bottle and keep it until Salth
was neutralized. Maybe then her magic would be harmless.
With effort, he worked his arm out of the gap in the deck. “Try seal-
ing the gap now,” he told Domina. “Janno was right; the wood around
the hole is rotten. He’ll have to replace it, and then the rest of you need
to bail out the water before we can continue our journey.”
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 9 5
“Us? What about you?” she asked.
Kron sighed. “I need to sleep.”
C H A P T E R T W E N T Y
An Encounter
The group was able to resume travel by noon the next day. Kron
wasn’t sure if the Four had secretly intervened on their behalf, or if
Salth was reserving further attacks for when they approached her realm.
Either way, the challenges he and the Avatars had to cope with were
easier to deal with. Caye and Domina still squabbled about who should
sail the boat and who should break the ice, but they shared tips about
each task. Every day, the number of furlongs they sailed increased. This
was even more impressive because the land sloped gently upward, to-
ward the mountains. They passed fewer farms and villages as they drew
closer to the Western Mountains.
When Kron wasn’t needed, he claimed a space next to the cabin and
prepared more protective artifacts. With the boat rocking back and
forth—not to mention the sudden starts and stops—it was difficult to
keep his materials in place, let alone concentrate on assembling and en-
chanting them. At least the Winter Avatars kept the ship warm. Bella
sat with Kron, keeping him company, fetching supplies when they scat-
tered across the deck, and occasionally scouting ahead with birds.
“There’s a group of people traveling next to the river,” she an-
nounced one afternoon. “They’re heading toward us.”
Kron carefully coiled his gold wire before he snapped it. “How many
of them do you see? What do they look like, and how are they travel-
ling?”
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 9 7
Bella closed her eyes for a few heartbeats. “It’s a large group, at least
fifty people, with a few horses and cattle. The animals are pulling wag-
ons, with women and a few children riding.”
A group of families would be less likely to fight than merchants or
soldiers. Kron instructed Caye to steer them closer to the opposite shore,
just in case.
The first few wagons appeared a short while later. From the way the
animals strained to pull them, the wagons had to be filled with every-
thing these people owned. Perhaps they were fleeing from Salth’s
destruction. Kron wondered if it might be worth speaking with these
people after all.
Bella clenched his arm. “Do you see how the driver is whipping that
team of horses? Can’t he tell they’re straining themselves already? I
should do something!”
“But what, Dearest? Tell them to lighten their wagon?” Kron stroked
his chin. Some stubble poked through his skin, but he wouldn’t need to
shave until the moon was full. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Perhaps
I could barter with them for more supplies. We can’t take anything too
big with us, but I might find something useful for an artifact anyway.”
He called to Caye, “I’ve changed my mind. We should sail closer to
them.”
“Now you tell me.” The boat leaned sharply as she turned it. “We
might overshoot them.”
Galia clutched the cabin door as she peeked out. “What’s going on?”
Kron pointed at the shore. “Travelers. A chance to trade and learn
more about what’s ahead.”
They were close enough to make out people’s faces. The group had
come to a halt, with a few wagons decorated with red-and-white trian-
gles catching up with them.
“I wonder if they have fresh food,” Galia said thoughtfully. “Even a
few herbs to season dinner would be welcome.”
A stout man waddled forward. He appeared to be only a few years
older than Kron. His robe of finely spun wool with stripes of scarlet and
1 9 8 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n
black stood out in the crowd of people dressed in brown. He carried a
staff de
corated with fringe and bells. Kron studied it intently but
couldn’t detect any magic in it.
“You there, on the boat!” The man pointed his staff at Kron. “Are
you the leader?”
Galia mumbled something Kron couldn’t make out. He gestured at
her to remain silent and keep the other Avatars in the cabin. Until they
knew if the strangers were friendly or hostile, it was wise to keep their
numbers—and their talents—hidden.
He put on a smile. “I’m Kron Evenhanded, lately from Vistichia.
Who are you, and where are you from?”
“Lammar Marstud, father of the Mount Clan.” Lammar didn’t match
Kron’s friendly expression. “How does your boat sail so swiftly in the
middle of winter, especially when there is no wind?”
“I might ask why you and your clan wander during this dangerous
season.”
“Only because death has spread into our land. If you’re fleeing death
as well, then all of us are doomed.”
“Fear not, Lammar. This land still thrives.” Although the boat was
too far away for Lammar to board, Kron beckoned him forward, hoping
the gesture would encourage him to talk. “What sort of death stalks your
land? Another plague? Famine?”
“Both and neither,” Lammar answered. “This plague kills all life.
Everything ages and dies out of time.”
Kron fought to keep his expression still. This was definitely more of
Salth’s work, except for the fact that these people had somehow man-
aged to escape her. How had they done that when everything else in her
domain was dead or dying?
“I’d love to learn more about this dying land, and how you got away
before suffering a similar fate,” he said. “If you’ve time to spare, we
could come ashore and barter both goods and information.”
Lammar glanced up at the sky before answering. “Perhaps for a level
of the water clock. We need to find a suitable place to spend the night.”
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 9 9
Kron directed Caye to bring them over to the bank. They had to sail
on a little farther until they found a tiny beach where they could disem-
bark. Kron searched through his materials for something he could part
with but still valuable enough to offer in barter.
“Food is always a good bartering tool,” Galia said. She sat in one of
the lower bunks, swaying as she watched him. “But is this a good idea,
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