by P. D. Kalnay
“Sorry we had to leave early,” I said. “I know you wanted a few more days to recover.”
“A little more time would have been ideal, but unnecessary,” Ivy said. “I’m recovered enough. The Hanging Garden was a great stroke of luck.”
“I’m not sure luck has much to do with us.”
“Perhaps not.”
We returned to our silent contemplation of the night sky. An hour later, Ivy went back to her canvas nest and fell fast asleep. Somewhere in the middle of the night, Falan interrupted my stargazing.
“Prince Jakalain?”
“Yeah?”
“You should sleep now, while you can. I’ll sail the night, but you must relieve me come dawn.”
“And you think we should avoid land?”
“As much as possible, yes. We have a week of straight sailing before the Shattered Reaches. Then we’ll have to move closer to the Maelstrom or lay anchor at night. In a larger ship we’d need to avoid the Reaches altogether, but in this boat they may prove a boon.”
I’d looked over maps and had seen the spot marked The Shattered Reaches along the coastline south of us, but that was all I knew about it.
“What are the Shattered Reaches?”
“Thousands of small islands stretching for half the distance from here to the mouth of the river Dun. Once they were part of the coastline of the southern empire, but a cataclysm in the distant past destroyed the shoreline. It created a long string of hazards to navigation, and more recently, a refuge for pirates and scavengers. As I said, most trading vessels avoid the Reaches. With our shallow draft and speed they may prove beneficial.”
“It’ll be nice to get off the boat and stretch our legs once in a while.”
“Sailing with a crew of three will wear at us. The opportunity to sleep on land will make the journey easier and safer—assuming we avoid other dangers.”
“I’ll try to sleep. Wake me if anything happens.”
***
I woke to a bright blue sky and to Ivy’s toe jabbing me in the ribs.
“Wake up, Jack.”
“I’m awake.”
“Falan must rest, but first we have matters to talk about.”
“We do?”
I wasn’t entirely awake, and my eyes closed again of their own accord.
“Ow! You didn’t have to kick that hard!”
Now I was awake, and I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.
“You were meant to relieve Falan at dawn. That was hours ago.”
“He was supposed to wake me.” I turned back to Falan who still held the tiller. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I tried, Prince Jakalain, but you’re a sound sleeper, and I didn’t wish to shout and also wake Princess Ivangelain.”
Based on the height of the sun, it was around ten.
“Next time, just shout. I’ll take over now, so you can sleep.”
“Do you know how to hold a course?” Falan asked.
There was no land in sight and only the sun for reference. On the Starburst I’d navigated along a general route determined by the captain or the pilot, while finding the least stormy path with my windsense, but I hadn’t done actual navigating. It wouldn’t be a problem.
“I’ll just mount the compass and use it stay on course,” I said.
“Compass?” Falan asked.
I dug into the gear behind the mast before I found the box I wanted. The dark wooden box had the gates of Knight’s Haven carved into the lid. Marielain had made a compass that always pointed to his workshop instead of north; I didn’t even know if the First World had a magnetic north.
One had explained that the enchantment didn’t involve magnetism. Instead, the enchantments on the compass represented half of a greater enchantment, the rest of which resided on a huge stone monolith in the workshop. There were two monoliths standing in a corner of the shop, but who knew what had happened to Marielain’s other compass. I assumed he took it when he left Knight’s Haven for the last time.
The plans for the boat included a bracket to hold the heavy compass ahead of the tiller. It was one of many things I’d built without understanding why. The compass itself consisted of a brass wheel set flush into the top of a rectangular steel box. That wheel had a single engraved arrow that pointed outward, towards Marielain’s home. One said he’d called it a homefinder, but I couldn’t stop thinking of it as a compass.
I set the metal box into the shallow holder and closed the four catches that would keep the compass secure in any weather. It was the size of a thick hardcover book and weighed at least ten pounds—not something you’d take hiking.
“What is that?” Falan asked, as the arrow sluggishly turned sunward.
“Marielain Blackhammer’s homefinder,” I said. “The arrow always points towards Knight’s Haven.”
“Always? Even in the Maelstrom?”
“I think so.”
“That’s amazing.”
It was handy, but amazing?
“I’ll just keep the arrow pointing to port and that should keep us sailing southward along the coast, right?”
“Yes, Prince Jakalain.” Falan stared hungrily at the unimpressive looking device.
“You should sleep,” I said.
“First, we must complete our bargain,” Ivy said.
“He’s been up all night–”
“Your reckless behaviour created this situation. It’s improper to ask Falan Danar to travel further without an agreement.”
Falan shrugged and looked uncomfortable.
“Fine, if that’s how it’s done,” I said.
Ivy turned to Falan, she looked equally serious and cute; I didn’t say that out loud.
“Falan Danar we travel on a quest of utmost importance. First, we require that you aid us in our journey to Anukdun, and to wherever else we must sail. Second, until such a time as we release you from our service, you will keep our secrets unto death, revealing none of our purpose unless granted permission by Jakalain or myself. Third, you will do all in your power to see our mission succeeds, no matter the cost. These are our terms.”
That was a lot more than helping us with the sailing on the way to Anukdun. The secrecy was one thing, but she was asking him to serve us for an indefinite period without even knowing what we were doing. I was going to tell Ivy it was unreasonable.
Falan spoke first.
“I know nothing of your purposes, Princess Ivangelain, nor the dangers we might face or even the likelihood any of us will survive…”
I was about to agree, but Ivy continued without hesitation.
“We will face as much danger as this world holds, we will challenge the Powers themselves, and most likely—we will all perish before the end.”
Ivy wasn’t cut out for sales, but I figured it was better to overstate the danger instead of underselling what we were up against.
“Three services for three boons.” She turned to me. “This is how our people make pacts. The vagueness of the services asked must be compensated for by greater payments on our part. Falan risks both death and a lifetime of servitude. Our enemies may become his own.”
Falan didn’t look afraid, but he appeared to be giving it his deepest consideration. Eventually, he looked up from his lap.
“You’ve decided,” Ivy said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” Falan said. Now he looked a little afraid. “My first boon is honesty, that you will be honest in answering and fair in our dealings.” Ivy nodded, but I thought it was a waste—we wouldn’t have lied to him, anyway. “My second is the homefinder, or one like it, when the quest is finished.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. I’d have made him one for free when I got back to Knight’s Haven.
“It will give me unmatched advantage in navigating the Maelstrom, and help me make my fortune. I’m uncertain what to ask, for the third boon…”
“You must ask something,” Ivy said, “to seal the pact.”
“What about the boat,” I suggested,
“once we’re done with it?”
I could always make another on Knight’s Haven if we needed it, and Falan’s father was desperate to buy my pump/motor technology.
“The enchantments are only useful to you and Princess Ivangelain,” Falan said, “and the stahlwood has value, but less now, being cut and painted…”
“If you agree to the deal, I’ll give you permission to use the enchantments too.” I glanced at Ivy who nodded.
Falan grinned.
“How fast does it go?” he asked.
“Take down the sail and I’ll show you.”
Falan furled the sail and secured the boom. Then he took a seat up front. Ivy sat at the back on the other side of the tiller. She’d ridden in my boat before. I activated one set of symbols at a time and took the pump up to full speed. When all seven were active, the boat got air at the crest of every wave, and Falan’s clawed hands clenched the gunnels on either side of the prow. I took the boat back to a comfortable cruising speed. Falan looked shaky as he moved to sit opposite us.
“That was amazing!” he said. “Can you transfer these enchantments to another, larger vessel?”
I hadn’t thought about that, but with the ‘remote control’ on the tiller, the pump could be attached to any ship.
“It wouldn’t go as fast,” I said. “We were pretty slow towing the Starburst to shore.”
“You towed the Starburst?”
Captain Danar must have kept our secrets, even from his son. It was refreshing to meet a trustworthy person.
“Yeah, five days from ring current to shore.”
Falan considered that for about a second.
“We have a deal,” he said.
“Falan Danar, give me your hand.” Ivy was all business. “You too, Jack.”
She took both of our hands and hummed a soft tune under her breath. I felt a tingling in my hand that spread throughout my body before fading away.
“Any who break this pact will die,” Ivy said. “It is done.”
Falan yawned wide. He reminded me of a baby bird waiting to be fed. Another thought I kept to myself.
“I have many questions,” Falan said, “but they can wait. I’m certain we have a long voyage ahead of us.”
With that he went forward to the makeshift bed of sacks I’d laid out the night before and fell asleep. I left the sail furled, since nobody was around to see, took the pump back up to five symbols, and drove us due south.
Chapter 17 – The Shattered Reaches
We took turns at the tiller, with each of us taking one third of each day and night. I often let my senses fly ahead in search of storms and danger, but in the days before we sighted the jagged boundary of the Shattered Reaches, the weather couldn’t have been nicer. The only downside I saw was that we would run out of fresh water if no rain fell to replenish our supply. Falan said that in the worst case scenarios we would have to make landfall or move further out to sea to top up our drinking water with rainfall.
Neither option sounded appealing, but that decision was two full water casks away.
Ivy, Falan, and I learned the idiosyncrasies of sailing the boat, and though we could have used the pump instead, we decided it would be prudent to practice living without it. Besides the pleasant weather, another big difference from our trip to Gaan was the birds. In the middle of the Maelstrom there’d been a total lack of bird-life, and Knight’s Haven had only a few kinds of small seabirds living on it. I’d occasionally wondered if the First World had fewer birds…
“What are you staring at?” I asked Ivy.
She’d been peering west for much of a morning as if trying to spot the distant shoreline. Falan said we held a course as near to the midpoint between shore and storm as he could manage.
“Something approaches,” Ivy said.
I gazed off to the west, joining her search. Soon, a dark line running north and south appeared along the horizon; it was coming our way. I reached out with my mind to see how bad the storm was, but sensed nothing. No powerful winds or lightning raged west of us.
“That’s weird,” I said, “I don’t sense a storm.”
“It isn’t a storm, Jack.”
“Then what is it?”
“Birds.”
“No way, that’s over twenty miles across, and still miles away from us. Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
The noise of the flock became audible long before I could discern individual birds. Falan woke and joined us.
“Fisherbirds,” he said. “That’s a good-sized flock.”
“Good-sized?” How big did he want?
“I’ve seen larger,” Falan said. “Flocks will migrate out to the ring currents to feed. They provide an opportunity for sailors to get fresh meat—other than fish. It won’t be possible for us. We should furl the sail and push forward with your pump for the next while.”
“Why can’t we get a bird for dinner? Ivy’s an awesome shot.”
Falan regularly caught us fresh fish to add to our stores, but non fish meat would be welcome.
“This boat is too small for the butchering.”
Each day, the boat and our bodies became more salt encrusted. I supposed it would be unpleasant to spatter our limited living space with blood and bird guts too. Soon the closest edge of the flock reached us. As a few birds swooped low to investigate the boat, I discovered that I’d misunderstood Falan’s meaning.
The birds were beautiful, and like peacocks, their feathers were multi-coloured and iridescent. That was all they had in common with Earth’s most decorative birds. Scales mixed with feathers along their bodies and long plumes fluttered from the bases of their sculls. They were beautiful (in a prehistoric way), but what impressed me most was the size and number of them. Millions of birds flew above us, calling to each other, and from a distance they reminded me of a swarm of locusts. The bird that swooped closest to us had a wingspan as long as the boat. I had a moment of fear when I realised how big the birds were, but Ivy and Falan seemed unconcerned.
The flock took a long time to pass overhead and leave us behind, and my ears rang by the time they became a dark line on the opposite horizon. I pulled a fallen feather from the water. It was longer than my arm.
“That was amazing!” I said.
It totally was. I’d just been on an awesome bird safari and now understood why Ivy had been so unimpressed by the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park. Falan shrugged and headed back to his bed. I turned to Ivy.
“Didn’t you think it was awesome?”
“It was the largest flock of fisherbirds I’ve seen.” Ivy shrugged, the same as Falan, and then she reached up to pinch my cheek. “You’re as adorable as you are contradictory.”
“Adorable? Contradictory?”
“Yes, gawking at birds and chatting with dragons.” Ivy giggled. “Simply—adorable.”
Then she went forward to raise the sail.
***
The first sign we’d arrived at the Shattered Reaches was a lone rock rising above the waves. It sat low enough that half the waves washed over top. Other than that random rock, wide-open ocean surrounded us. I stared at the strange anomaly until it occurred to me that there might be other rocks just below the surface that I couldn’t see.
Hitting rocks is undesirable no matter how tough your boat is.
“Falan.”
I felt bad, waking him halfway through his sleep time, but rocks appearing out of nowhere counted as an emergency. Unlike me, Falan was a light sleeper who came awake in an instant. He said he’d had plenty of experience being on duty aboard his family’s ships.
“What is it, Prince Jakalain?”
I pointed to the rock, which I’d steered east of, as a precaution.
“Ah, we’ve arrived at the north boundary,” Falan said.
“What’s going on?” Ivy asked. She crawled out of her blankets and rubbed sleep from her eyes.
“We must work in shifts of two from now on,” Falan said. “Or sail a more easterly route.”
“Why two?” I asked.
“One to steer, and the other to keep watch in the prow for submerged rocks. We should be nimble enough to avoid them in so small a boat.”
That would leave us each with eight hours to sleep…
“What about at night? How will we see rocks under the water at night?” Ivy asked my next question.
“We’ll tie up at night and sleep on land.” Falan said. “This rock is only the first small harbinger. Most the Reaches consists of larger rocks and small islands. With the pump, we can take a direct path south while avoiding the hazards. Without that advantage, I’d recommend the easterly route. The better rest we’ll gain on shore will allow us to move swifter in the daylight hours and offer more in the way of…” he half-glanced towards Ivy, “comforts.”
Although we’d enjoyed storm-free weather for our eight days on the boat, we lived under cramped conditions. Falan was a super polite guy, Ivy took care of her more personal matters at night where possible, and everybody from the First World (not counting Ivy) seemed to be less uptight about that stuff than people from Earth, but it’d be nice not having to hang my butt off the side to… you know.
Making camp on land in the evenings sounded a splendid plan.
“What will we find on these islands?” Ivy asked.
“I don’t know,” Falan said. “My people avoid them, but there are enough stories of brigands that we must keep watch, and travel cautiously.”
I kept us on our southerly course as many more rocks grew from the sea ahead. Before I knew it, we’d sailed into the middle of them. Falan stood in the prow watching for danger, explaining to Ivy what to look for, and how to estimate the depth of the obstacles. He periodically called out course corrections. I’d spent plenty of time piloting the Starburst, so following his instructions came naturally. Before the day was half over, we sailed between proper islands with vegetation growing on them. When night approached, we were surrounded by one third land to two thirds water and the countless small islands broke the waves, providing smooth sailing.
