by Aaron Ehasz
Ezran seemed delighted. “Oh, ‘Bird-O’ is such a great name for a—”
“BERTO,” the parrot said, interrupting Ezran. He sounded offended. “It’s short for Roberto, not Ro-BIRD-o.”
“Me ship’s this way,” Villads said. He walked down the pier to a rickety old ship. “Welcome to me water home, the Ruthless! Named after me dear wife, Ruth. Who sadly”—Captain Villads placed a hand over his heart and shook his head dramatically before continuing, a bit choked up—“doesn’t enjoy sailing.”
Rayla exchanged a look with Callum. He shrugged. Maybe Captain Villads was their best option because he was their only option.
“So, you said if the wind is on our side, we could make it across the bay pretty quickly?” Callum asked.
“Aye. Of course, there’s a storm coming,” Villads said, walking up the gangplank.
“A storm? Great,” Rayla said. She felt a small wave of nausea.
“Wow, you can just tell a storm is coming?” Ezran asked, genuinely fascinated.
“Well, I can’t see, as you know, but I rely on me other senses—”
“I told him!” the parrot suddenly interrupted, punctuating with a squawk. “I saw the storm and I told him.”
Captain Villads turned to the bird. “And I heard you tell me! Hearing is one of my other senses, Berto. Either way, we’d best delay departin’ for a few days to wait out the storm.”
“A few days? Uh, we’re on a tight schedule,” Rayla said. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”
Captain Villads paused to consider, and then brightened. “I suppose if we leave right now we could race across the bay and beat the storm …”
“Yes, let’s do that,” Rayla said. Let’s get this over with as fast as possible.
“No problem,” Villads said. “That should work just fine. Unless, of course, the storm catches us mid-bay and kills us all.” He chuckled.
“Ha ha ha,” Rayla said under her breath.
Ezran, Callum, Rayla, Zym, and Bait followed the captain up the gangplank and onto the Ruthless.
It took a few hours, but by late afternoon Viren had gathered all the items the Mirror Mage had requested. He thought that finding a spool of golden thread would be the most difficult acquisition, but the royal seamster seemed quite pleased that Viren was trying some sewing on his own and gave him what he needed. They even offered to give Viren free lessons any time.
And so Viren returned to the chamber. He held each item up to the mirror, seeking approval, which he knew he would get. The Mirror Mage looked over the spread and nodded. It was time to begin.
The Mirror Mage picked up the golden thread in his world. Moving with measured precision, he sewed a golden rune symbol into the purple silk. Viren copied his actions, though his work was neither as swift nor as elegant as the Mirror Mage’s. Nonetheless, the mage nodded at him.
The Mirror Mage traced a glowing rune into the air before him—the same symbol he’d sewn into his purple cloth.
“I’ve never seen this rune before,” Viren said.
The golden-threaded rune in the mirror began to glow and sparkle with all the colors of the night sky, as if thousands of tiny stars were twinkling in the magic symbol. A moment later, Viren watched the rune he had sewn begin to sparkle as well.
The Mirror Mage covered his geode with the glowing rune cloth—and Viren mimicked him. Then the Mirror Mage raised the small mallet and struck the geode through the cloth. He unwrapped the cloth to reveal it had split into two hemispheres, each forming a small bowl. The crystals inside seemed to sparkle and glow with the same magic that illuminated the rune moments ago.
Viren repeated the actions. He couldn’t fathom where this experiment was going, but knew he was working with another powerful, gifted mage.
Finally, the Mirror Mage ground the pestle into the geode, creating a fine, twinkling powder out of the crystals in the rock bowl. He poured the sparkling powder into the goblet of water. The combination fizzed and burbled, producing an ethereal blue smoke. Then he drank from the goblet.
Viren copied the steps, but when he put the goblet to his lips, he hesitated.
“You expect me to drink this?” he asked. The elf in the mirror just stared at him.
Viren couldn’t suppress his curious nature. He steeled himself and drank everything in the goblet. He wiped his mouth. “Surprisingly not terrible,” he said. As if that mattered.
Finally, the mage picked up the gleaming knife and motioned to Viren to do the same. The Mirror Mage rolled up his sleeve, clenched his fist, and held the blade to his arm above the geode bowl. Then he paused, waiting for Viren.
Viren picked up the blade and considered whether he would cut himself for this stranger. Something felt wrong. Usually, doing magic made Viren feel powerful, but standing here, holding a blade to his own flesh at the behest of a mysterious stranger, he suddenly felt powerless.
“Why should I trust you?” Viren asked. “I don’t even know who … I don’t even know what you are.” Viren lowered the knife. He was curious; he was never stupid. “I need time to think.”
Some hours passed. Beneath a cloudless sky, the Ruthless cut through the bright blue waves. Everyone congregated on the deck to enjoy the view. Ezran, Rayla, Zym, and Bait sat near the bow, watching the horizon. At least for the moment, the sea was peaceful.
A pod of dolphins jumped out of the water almost soundlessly and swam beside the boat. Ezran and Zym hung over the rail to get a better look. Rayla was hanging over the rail as well, but she wasn’t looking at the dolphins. She was losing the contents of her stomach.
Callum sat farther astern, watching Captain Villads adjust the ropes and sails. He was determined to pick up a few things about sailing. He didn’t want to interrupt Captain Villads, but the captain was such an interesting figure Callum couldn’t help staring at him. It was Captain Villads who spoke first.
“Ye might be wondering what happened to me eyes,” he said.
“Well, I didn’t want to be rude,” Callum said. It was true though; he’d never seen a pirate, or anyone for that matter, wearing two eye patches.
“Me left eye was taken by a flock of mutinous seagulls,” Villads said, almost wistfully, as if the seagulls had once been a band of loyal shipmen.
“Uh … wow,” Callum said. It was hard to imagine being attacked by an entire flock. “And what about your right eye?”
“Don’t know. Came at me from me left!”
Callum started to smile, but then stopped himself. He wasn’t sure whether the captain was joking. Captain Villads certainly was an odd fellow.
Callum looked up at the wind vane and put his finger to the wind. He was no expert at sailing, but it seemed like the ship was moving perpendicular to the wind.
“Hey, wait. How are we going that way if the wind is coming from over there?” Callum asked.
“That’s how you sail, me boy,” Villads said.
“The wind doesn’t push us where we want to go?” Callum asked.
“The sail is more like a wing, flying through the wind, pulling the boat against the water currents below us.” Captain Villads moved the mainsail, and the boat swerved gently. “It’s like shooting a willow melon seed from between your fingers.” He plucked a small seed from his coat pocket and squeezed it hard on both sides. The seed shot straight out of his fingers and plunked Callum on the nose.
Callum caught the seed and fed it to Berto. “I think I get it. Can I try?” he asked.
Captain Villads stepped aside, and Callum took hold of the wheel and mainsail. In less than a second, the boat swerved violently and the wind took Captain Villads’s hat. The loose sail flapped feebly and Berto caught the hat. Captain Villads grabbed the wheel back.
“I’ll take it from here,” he said. “After you’re in the elements long enough, you get a feel for where the wind is and how it’s about to change. It’s like a connection, deep in me bones.”
“Hold on—you feel a connection to the wind? How did you get t
hat?” Callum was suddenly very interested. Maybe a pirate feeling connected to the wind wasn’t the same as a mage connecting to the Sky arcanum, but Callum knew he had something to learn from this unusual sailor.
“What, just because I’m blind and have narcolepsy, you thought I wouldn’t have sailing sense?” Villads asked.
Oooops. Clearly, Callum had hit upon a sensitive spot. He’d just wanted to learn how a nonmagical being made the kind of connection Lujanne had been talking about. He tried to smooth things over. “No, that’s not what I meant,” Callum started to say. “Wait—narcolepsy? Did you say you had—” He looked at Captain Villads, who had suddenly fallen asleep at the wheel.
“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake—” Berto began to chirp.
Captain Villads bolted awake at the sound of the parrot’s squawk. He gave Berto a light pat on the head.
“Huh?! What happened? The last thing I remember was talking about narcolepsy and then falling asleep,” Villads said.
“Yeah. That’s about right,” Callum said. He decided to drop the whole connection to the wind discussion.
A soft clap of thunder sounded in the distance, and a few moments later, light raindrops started to fall. Everyone looked up at the quickly darkening clouds. Zym’s eyes were wide with curiosity—he’d never seen rain before. He poked his head out from behind a crate to feel the droplets, and then quickly hid again. Ezran laughed as he watched Zym, but Callum’s mind was spinning with all the possibilities of the oncoming rains.
“Storm’s a-comin’,” Villads said. “Seems as if we won’t beat it after all.”
“Hmm. Maybe the storm is good news, in a way. Maybe it’s my chance …” Callum said. Maybe he could harness the storm for magic—even without the primal stone.
“Your chance to die,” Berto squawked.
“I was going to say my chance to learn,” Callum said. He was filled with anticipation and not in the mood to banter with a bird.
“To learn how to drown,” Berto squawked again.
It was midday and sweltering beneath the sun. Amaya stood on the battlements of the Breach fortress. Tense but alert, she raised a spyglass to scan the horizon. Now she could see across the Breach into Xadia. She focused on a small area of the cliffs on the other side, where a jagged, tall formation of cooled lava rock jutted out.
Something was wrong. Amaya couldn’t get the Sunfire knight out of her head. Where had the knight gone after Amaya had defeated her three warriors? Instinct told her that the knight wasn’t the type to retreat to Xadia and call it a day. And yet, the search for the surviving knight had turned up nothing.
How much did the knight know? Had they stumbled upon the Breach crossing the natural caverns? Or had they known about the Breach and the secret outpost all along? Amaya slammed her spyglass shut and summoned a nearby soldier.
“Lieutenant Fen,” Amaya signed. “Come over here.” She beckoned him sharply.
“It’s the top of the hour, General,” Lieutenant Fen responded. Though he knew how to sign fluently, he always spoke aloud and relied on Amaya to read his lips. “The outpost should be signaling any moment now.”
“It’s late,” she signed. Ever since Amaya’s encounter with the Sunfire knight, she had insisted the outpost send a signal every hour on the hour. Up until now the communication had been timely.
“Yes, General, but respectfully, it’s only two minutes late—”
“I saw elves on the Breach,” Amaya signed.
“General Amaya, we’ve searched everywhere and there’s been no sign of the elves,” Lieutenant Fen answered. Though she saw nothing in his demeanor that was outwardly disrespectful, Amaya could tell he was annoyed by her vigilance on this topic. “I think it’s safe to conclude that the outpost on the Xadian side remains secret.”
Then something caught Lieutenant Fen’s eye. A steam jet burst out of part of the lava formation, followed by three brief steam jets.
“There! Look.” Lieutenant Fen pointed. “The signal! The outpost is secure.”
But Amaya remained unconvinced. She shook her head. “No, something’s wrong,” she signed.
“But … it’s only three minutes late,” Lieutenant Fen protested.
Three minutes is almost as bad as three hours, Amaya thought. She had to investigate. “Ready a scouting party,” she signed. She’d noticed that the younger generation of soldiers tended to brush over the details. She’d have to train them better.
“Yes, General. I’ll ready a party,” Lieutenant Fen answered.
General Amaya led a small team of soldiers, including Lieutenant Fen, through the pass beneath the lavafalls at the Breach. She had crossed this passage dozens of times. She knew every twist and turn, every nook and cranny. But the path was so dangerous she never let down her guard.
Once on the Xadian side of the lava river, Amaya marched to a huge boulder. She touched a spot low on the boulder and it shifted ever so slightly, revealing a camouflaged gate that was only visible from one side. Through this gate, Amaya could cross into the mountain outpost. She didn’t have to turn around to check—she knew her team was right behind her.
The inside of the outpost was dark and vacant, which was unusual, given that they’d just received the signal from this very spot. And yet, there was no sign of a struggle.
“I don’t understand,” Lieutenant Fen signed. “Why would the outpost be abandoned? They just sent the signal a few—”
Amaya held up her hand to silence Lieutenant Fen. Everyone froze, looked, listened. Now the squad knew something was off. They stood ready, hands drifting toward their weapons. Then a human soldier emerged from the darkness.
“Soldier! Your signal was late,” Lieutenant Fen said. “What happened? Where is everyone?”
“Yes. My apologies, sir,” the soldier answered Lieutenant Fen. But General Amaya noticed the soldier was looking at her. “The others went on patrol, and I missed my cue,” he reported. “The next signal will happen exactly on the hour.”
“Of course. Thank you, soldier,” Lieutenant Fen said. He seemed satisfied with this explanation. He turned to Amaya. “Better safe than sorry, but it seems everything is under control.”
To Amaya’s mind, everything was not under control. The soldier looked shell-shocked. He was sweating profusely, and his hands were trembling.
The rest of the group had relaxed and begun to turn away, but Amaya stood still, squinting at the soldier. The young man tucked his hands tight against his chest and held her gaze. Then he tensely signed, “DANGER!”
Amaya bristled and scanned the darkness. And there it was—a glint of metal in the otherwise pitch-black outpost.
In an instant, Amaya had leaped in front of the soldier. She thrust out her shield and blocked an incoming arrow, saving his life. Then she looked around wildly.
Sunfire elves emerged from tunnels and crags in the rocky walls. The powerful Sunfire knight she’d encountered before was their leader.
Amaya knew there was no way she and her small team could fight them all off.
No matter, she thought. I will go down trying.
As the afternoon wore on, the few raindrops wetting the upper deck of the Ruthless became a full-fledged storm. Gusty winds knocked the boat to and fro, and hard rain pellets pummeled the seafarers.
As the little ship rode huge swells up and down, Ezran, Callum, Rayla, Zym, and Bait watched lightning bolts crack over the water. Ezran glimpsed a nearby island in the middle of the bay and pointed it out. The island was a tempting place to stop … if Captain Villads could get control over the boat.
Ezran loved the wild movements, the wet wind in his hair, and the sense of adventure. But one look at Rayla and he knew she would never get her sea legs. Her face had turned an interesting shade of green.
“You’re turning different colors. Is that your Moonshadow form?” Ezran teased. Maybe he could take Rayla’s mind off the bad stuff by reminding her how powerful she was.
“No, Ezran,” Rayla said. “Thi
s is my rare glow toad impersonation. Gruuuumpp.”
Ezran wondered what Rayla had against Bait—the two of them seemed to have developed a rivalry almost from day one. Bait was staring back at Rayla judgmentally. Then he changed color to match Rayla’s sickly green.
The boat heaved.
“Storm’s too strong! Best we moor on the lee side of the island and wait till it calms,” Villads said. He managed to sail through the slanting rain and point the boat in the right direction. It lurched toward the island. Callum stood at the helm near Captain Villads, clutching the railing.
“Berto, to the bow!” Villads shouted.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Berto said.
Berto flew to the bow and began shouting his own set of orders.
“Port, port!” Berto said.
Captain Villads moved to the left, and the ship made a sharp turn.
“Starboard, starboard!” Berto squawked. Captain Villads yanked the ship to the right. Ezran, Callum, Rayla, Zym, and Bait slid back and forth on the deck.
And then the boat was on top of the island. As they approached land, the mist cleared, revealing a rickety dock surrounded by large, jagged rocks. The dock was broken down and abandoned, but there was just enough space between the rocks for the ship to dock.
Ezran couldn’t believe it—the ship slid right into the open space on the dock. They’d managed to navigate numerous rocky obstacles with a blind captain.
“Current fast! Drop the sail!” Berto yelled.
Captain Villads untied a rope, and the front sail dropped. The boat stopped pivoting on its bow and swung in between the rocks, landing exactly parallel to the dock.
“Nailed it. Squawk!” Berto said. He flew a rope over to the shambles of a dock and looped it around the mooring point.
“Did he just say the word squawk?” Ezran asked. Ezran had tried to communicate with Berto in bird language, but Berto had ignored him. Ezran wondered if he had offended Berto earlier by mispronouncing his name.
“Never mind Berto,” Villads said. “He’s always thought of himself as more human than bird … if you can imagine such a thing.”
