The Thief's Gamble

Taken from:

The Last Work of Geris Armiger, Late Scholar of the University of Vanam

Prepared with annotations by Ornale Scrivener, his mentor and friend.

While incursions by the Elietimm into the lands of the western continent are comparatively recent, they have known of our existence since the battles for the lands of Kel Ar'Ayen and their historical record has a continuity we can only envy. The following letter was written by the Clan-chief of Blackcliff to the Clan-chief of Fishsands at some point in the two years between the death of Feorle the Last and the Anarchy of the Blood-Axes. The attitudes it illustrates do not seem to have changed to any great extent, up to and including the current generation:

The final failure of the priests and their magic has led many of the people to doubt the gods, my brother, but do not let yourself be swayed. We are the Hammers of Misaen and we must remain true. To be confined to these isles for so many years has indeed been hard, especially for those of us whose elders can remember tasting the sweet green of Kel Ar'Ayen. Do not forget that broad and fertile land, my brother, rather tell your grandfather to polish his memories and keep them bright, the mirror of Misaen's promise to us. Do not let doubt poison your mind. Misaen is testing us, refining us, scouring our mettle clean of the impurity that led to our downfall at the

hands of the accursed men of the Dawnlands. The gods remain true, Misaen remains the maker. He continues to bring fire from our mountains; shall we lei the fire in our hearts die? I shall not, nor my sons, nor my sons' sons, not until my line is extinguished in the cold ashes of the Last Storm. Our steel will be tempered in his fire, not shattered by the cold bite of the seas.

I make you this promise, a sacred vow on the graves of my forefathers who once trod the golden sands of the East. We will regain mastery over the Ocean. We will take the powers of mind and spirit from the puling priests who have betrayed us. We will travel to the east and throw down the cities of Kel Ar'Ayen until no stone is left standing upon another. We will travel to the west and hunt down the Tormalin invaders until their clans are scattered upon the winds.

The age of the priests is past; we are not children needing nursemaids. Misaen awaits an age of warriors who can wield swords of the hand and of the mind. Such warriors will have lands to conquer on either hand; the emptiness of Kel Ar'Ayen to fill with their sons and the rabbles of Tren Ar'Dryen to enslave. Do not think that Misaen has cast us down; he has not. Rather he has shown us our destiny and locked us away, like athletes before a contest, to make sure we train ourselves to obtain the victory and to deserve it.

It is curious that the Elietimm names for Tormalin all include a reference to'dawn' given their islands are themselves to the east. See Section 8 for further argument suggesting this race originated in the lands of the Mountain Men.

The Ice-man's Keep, Islands of the Elietimm, 3rd of For-Winter

I returned to our cell rapidly. The others were lying in a close huddle, Shiv's boots and a fold of tunic giving the impression of enough feet and heads for any curious guard. I saw them tense as I opened the lock.

'It's me!' I whispered and Aiten and Ryshad were on their feet at once.

I tossed Aiten his clothes; his initial gratitude dampened slightly when he found them more than a little moist and smelly.

'Where've you been?' Ryshad was dressing fast, ignoring the state of his breeches.

'The drains,' I said succinctly. 'We've got a way out.'

I looked past Ryshad to Shiv who was slowly relacing his boots. 'Are you up to hiding us for a short stretch? We need to get through a gate.'

Shiv looked up and grinned. 'I'm fit enough.'

I was relieved to see his eyes were focusing properly on me but his face still looked unhealthily drawn.

'Come on then.'

Aiten moved out, sword at the ready, and Shiv flexed his fingers in the way I'd come to realise was preparation for working magic as they covered the angle of the corridor while I worked on relocking the door. As I did so, I caught a glimpse of Geris' shrouded body and a sudden pang of grief made the picks slip in my nerveless fingers. What would these bastards do to him now? Bury him in the cold earth for the worms or just dump him in a midden? I wondered miserably. Why could they not use the cleansing of fire like civilised people?

Ryshad's firm hand on my shoulder made me jump.

'That's not Geris, Livak,' he said softly and I looked round into his sympathetic eyes. 'He's escaped already.'

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, then shook myself mentally and led the way into the nearest scullery where I had left the drain cover slightly askew. Once we had all climbed down into the drain, I breathed easier, despite the fetid smells, and concentrated on the job in hand.

Aiten cursed as he slipped, and his voice echoed harshly in the confined space. Ryshad hushed him before I had a chance to and we scrambled awkwardly onwards in comparative silence. I hoped no one was anywhere above to hear the scrapes of boot and sword when Ryshad met a narrow corner but it was too late to worry about that now.

I had to slow down as the others got disoriented in the blackness and for one awful moment became confused myself when I met a junction.

'Make a decision and stick to it, right or wrong,' I told myself silently and, not too many paces later, was rewarded with the sting of scraping my outstretched knuckles on the end wall of the drain. I could see a pale thread in the darkness showing where I had left a root of a plant wedged in the trap door. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I was going to owe Drianon half my next year's profits at this rate.

'Ait? Shiv?' Ryshad's questing hand touched my shoulder and I grabbed at it. Sudden weakness plucked at my knees but his reassuring grip answered the tremor in my fingers and gave me new heart.

We wedged ourselves awkwardly into the cramped stone box.

'What sort of cover do we need and how long for?' Shiv worked his way round to stand next to me and we raised the lid of our drain cautiously together.

I pointed out the gateway and then the wall walk with the desultorily patrolling sentries. Shiv made a careful survey of the entire garden and nodded slowly.

'We'll need to get out one at a time, slowly. Once we're out, we can move faster. How long will the gate take you?'

'How long is a piss? I don't know, Shiv!'

'Sorry, stupid question. Let's wait until our friend in the dressy leathers is at the far end of the parapet then.'

The idle bastard took his own sweet time to move back along the wall but, once he was gone, I was first out, lying under the frost-wilted leaves of some crop still in the ground. The fresh smell of the cold, damp earth cleaned out my nostrils and I welcomed the scent of a little normality. Once we were all out and crouching like rabbits in a salad garden, Shiv drew some silent patterns in the dirt and nodded for us to move. It was a short dash to the shelter of the wall. No warning shout split the night to betray us.

I unslotted the bar and reached eagerly for the bolts but luckily stopped myself just in time. They were stiff with rust and muck and would have screeched like a night owl. I stared at them in impotent fury for a moment then got to work on the lock, my mind working frantically at the problem. I could hear Ryshad and Aiten shuffling impatient feet behind me and I had to quell an urge to swear at them.

'Shiv, these bolts are going to make a stuffing noise. Do something.'

After a moment's incomprehension, he laid quick hands on the top set and, as I reached down to the bottom ones, I felt the air go soggy and dense around them. I looked up, nodded and we drew them in one swift and blessedly silent wrench. We were through the wall and across the killing ground surrounding the keep at the run. I looked up at the slowly paling sky and wondered how long we had before our escape was discovered. Elation at freedom warred inside me with the fear of pursuit and recapture.

'Stuff it,' I told myself. 'He's got to find you first.'

We ran on, habit soon easing us all into a regular pace. I was concerned that we should be moving faster but I was bone tired by now, only fired on by emotion. I looked at Shiv and Aiten with concern as they fell to the rear. Shiv was still unusually pale in the washed-out light of the early dawn and Aiten was clearly suffering from the beating he had taken. Dark stains on his shirt showed where some of the wounds had reopened.

'You have to get clean as soon as we get a chance, Ait,'

I told him firmly. 'Sea water's good for healing, you know that.'

He nodded, eyes tired and mouth set in a thin line that spoke of his discomfort.

Ryshad had taken the lead and was heading for the thicket of tall masts silhouetted against the pale rose sky that heralded the rising sun. He led us off the main path and we went to ground in a thicket of tangled bushes overlooking the harbour. It was an irregular inlet bitten deep into the coast, evidently carrying a deep-water channel from the size of the vessels moored out from the shore. Despite the early hour, figures were already at work on the decks and the harbour side where cargo was being moved and sorted. Splashes carrying clearly in the cold air spoke of rowing-boats that we could not see moving between ship and shore against the blackness of the water. I had no knowledge to tell me what the tide was doing but I guessed it was at an important point in rising or falling or whatever as many of the huts around the harbour had warm yellow lights in their windows.

'I won't give good odds on us getting a boat here,' I remarked dubiously.

A burst of pipe music startled us. We watched with unanimous dismay as a door spilled a group of soldiers out of what was evidently a tavern. We sat in silence as they marched a little way up the track and watched them relieve a second detachment hidden in an otherwise unremarkable hut. I cursed under my breath; if you're trying to get in somewhere, you want to be going for it when the guard is at the end of its shift, tired and bored, not when it's just been changed and they're all as keen as a slaughterhouse dog at the start of the day's business.

Ryshad reached for his spy-glass and cursed briefly when he realised it was now a prize for White-hair, back at the keep.

I had seen enough. 'There's no way we're going to get to a boat there. We'll have to try for a fishing village or something.'

'No, wait,' Aiten said.

I didn't bother turning my head as I surveyed the coastal paths leading away from the harbour. 'We've got to get clear of here. It's going to be dawn sooner than you think.'

'We do need to talk this through,' Ryshad said slowly. 'We need to have a plan.'

I looked round and heaved a mental sigh; one of the few things my mother had been proved right about was her assertion that men will always come up with inappropriate ideas at the most inconvenient times.

'We have to get out of here first. Come on!' I hissed at him.

'And once they find we're gone? We'll have them on our trail in no time and we'll be back where we started,' Shiv countered.

'We're going to need a distraction,' Ryshad said firmly. 'It has to be a good one too.'

'All right, it would help, if we can manage it without digging ourselves any deeper into this shit-hole,' I admitted. 'I was thinking along the lines of a little judicious arson, myself.'

Shiv shook his head. 'Fire's going to be hard for me at the moment. I really should save my strength in case we need another covering illusion.'

I raised a hand to silence him. 'Remember Harna's table? I found Geris' list of little spells — I can do it myself.'

'The aetheric cantrips? What about his notes? The books? What else did you find?' Shiv asked hopefully.

'Later,' Aiten interrupted him. 'We need something more than bonfires. I know what I'm talking about; there are some Lescari tricks we should use. We need to cause trouble and we need to have them think it was their own enemies. You were saying how much strife there seemed to be over borders here. We can make this bastard think the ones in the brown did it.'

'This is too complicated,' I objected. 'We don't have time for anyone to waste proving how clever they are.'

'Just listen, will you?' Aiten's voice was rising so I shut up. I was beginning to regret giving him back his boots. Warm feet were obviously draining the blood from his head.

'When I was fighting for Parnilesse, a group of us were trapped between Triolle's men and a fort held by a contingent from Draximal. We would be cracked like a nut come daylight, so five of the old hands slipped out and found the Triolle camp followers. They butchered the whores and left some Draximal insignia from our booty lying around. So you see, while Triolle's troops were ripping into the Draximals they thought had done it, we were able to get clear.'

'You just want to pay them back in their own coin, Ait. Revenge is a fool's game.' Since Halcarion decided not to strike me down for hypocrisy, I continued, 'I'm not starting some needless slaughter. I'm not into random murder and, anyway, I can't think of a quicker way of rousing the keep, short of finding a hunting horn.'

There was an uncomfortable silence until Ryshad spoke.

'It doesn't have to be a killing, does it?' he mused. 'How about taking a hostage? We could take a woman or a child or, if it looks possible, one of those with the gorgets, an officer.'

I stared at him in disbelief. 'I thought it was Shiv got the knock on the head? Have you any idea how much trouble a hostage can be? One hostage means one of us taken up completely looking after him. There are only four of us and Shiv still hasn't got all his pieces on the board, has he?'

'If we've got a hostage, we've got something to bargain with,' Ryshad insisted. 'If they catch up with us, we might be able to deal our way out.'

'If we do get clear, a hostage could give Planir invaluable information,' Shiv said thoughtfully and I realised with a sinking feeling that he was starting to dance to the same tune.

I pulled the documents out from the breast of my tunic. 'These are aetheric spells.' I brandished the sheet at him. 'I can do them, Rysh, I can set fires from a distance according to Geris' notes. How about I start on those ships over there? Won't that make them think a rival's been busy?'

I was making no impression.

'Let's get out of here first,' I pleaded. 'You've all played Raven, haven't you? You don't take on all the Forest fowl at once, you deal with one flock at a time.'

I could see the sky growing brighter and urgency lent authority to my voice.

'All right. Let's get clear and then we can take on whoever they send after us.' Ryshad's crisp agreement broke the sullen silence and if I were closer, I would have kissed him for it.

A long estuary carried the sea away to our right and a stretch of higher ground rose to hide the shoreline from the keep. We moved rapidly over the close-cropped turf and sandy tracks, my skin crawling as I waited for the shout that would betray us, but Shiv's magic kept any casual glance sliding over us once again. We reached the meagre shelter of a row of hillocks and dunes and crouched down as we paused to reorient ourselves.

'This way. We'll have more chance of finding a boat.'

I have no idea what made Aiten so confident, but he was the man from the coast so we followed his lead. As the curve of the shore and the height of the dunes rose, we headed down for the beach where we could make better speed across the firmer sands.

'Wait a moment. I need to get my breath.' I turned and was shocked to see how far back Shiv had fallen. His colour was still grey while the rest of us were now rosy-cheeked in the brisk breeze.

'Are you still keeping the illusion up?' Ryshad asked abruptly and I cursed myself for not realising how much the magic was draining him.

'We'll have to risk moving without it,' he said decisively as Shiv nodded tiredly. The air around us crackled briefly as Shiv dropped the spell. I felt uncomfortably exposed.

'Let's get closer to the dunes.' I led us back to the boot-catching sands above the tide line and we ploughed on. Shiv was still lagging behind and I saw he was caught in a no-win game; slogging through the sand was going to tire him as thoroughly as working magic.

'Dast's teeth, you're stuffed, aren't you?' Aiten caught Shiv under one arm and Ryshad moved to support him from the other side and looked over at me with a grimace of frustration.

'Scout ahead a bit, Livak. Find out what we're heading for.'

I nodded and put some distance between me and the three of them, climbing a little higher into the tussocks of spiny grass to get some vantage on the terrain around us.

We made better speed this way but the reverse of the runes was the worrying inability of the others to react fast if someone came upon us. My eyes were going like a frog's in all directions as I tried to keep watch everywhere at once. I might as well have saved myself the effort since it was my nose that alerted me to potential danger ahead when I caught the sickly-sweet smell of dung fires on the fitful breeze. I stopped and waited for the others to draw level with me at the base of the dunes.

'I think there's a village or something up ahead. Come up here — I'll go and take a look.'

Shiv sank gratefully on to the soft sands and I exchanged a worried look with Ryshad before starting to work my way through the clumps of grass, back down on my belly and elbows as I recalled every lesson I'd ever learned in moving without being seen. I found a hollow at the edge of the dunes and peered cautiously through the tussocks.

A stream wound its way across the sands and just looking at it made me thirsty. I forced myself to concentrate and saw the rivulet made its way through a break in the line of hillocks which rose again on the far side, soon climbing much higher and marching off to join a chain of steep outcrops. On the landward side of the rising ground, early morning smoke spiralled from a couple of chimneys jutting out of roofs thatched with the coarse grass that was surrounding me. That made sense, the village was well in the lee of the higher land and so sheltered from storms coming in off the water. I looked hungrily at the long low stone building exposed on the seaward side of the rise. No one was going to be living there, not with a cosy little village tucked away round the corner. It had little, unshuttered windows and huge broad doors taking up most of the facing end; it positively shrieked boathouse and I crept forward, one alert eye towards the village as I did so.

Once I was right at the edge of the open ground, I saw three long grey-brown shapes huddled together above the high water mark next to the boathouse. I grinned; Dastennin had just earned himself a share of whatever I had in my purse next time I passed one of his shrines. They weren't whale-boats but looked more like the vessels we'd seen bringing in seals what seemed half a lifetime ago. I wasn't going to quibble; they were boats and I was at the point where I'd seriously have suggested we try putting to sea in a hollow log.

I shuffled back through the sands and grasses and found the others.

'Well?' Ryshad was looking anxious and I saw Shiv was looking far from well.

'There are a few houses, they're away behind the shelter of some little hills. The important thing is I can see some boats, seal-hunters' I think. They must be secured somehow, so if you come to the edge of the cover, I'll get over to them and see if I can get one free before we all risk the open.'

Everyone's eyes brightened at this news: even Shiv looked better. We made a cautious descent to the edge of the tussocks. Aiten and Ryshad spread out to get a better view of the village and I circled round so as to find the shortest route across the exposed stretch of beach.

I looked back at Ryshad, he nodded, I took a deep breath and, keeping as low as I could, sprinted for the shelter of the boats where the rise of the land would hide me from the houses. The cold shock of the stream's splashes spurred me on and I went to ground by the leather boats, heart pounding and cold air rasping in my chest. I looked back towards the others and noticed with a twinge of disquiet that I could see the distant battlements of the keep beyond. A pale line scored in the turf suggested a track down from the main harbour on the inland side of the dunes; it forked with one arm heading for the village and the other coming straight for me.

I dismissed it as irrelevant and examined the boats lying upside-down on the shingle. To my land-bred eyes, they all looked seaworthy, which was a relief since this could just as easily been a salvage or repair yard. There was no sign of paddles or such like as I peered underneath but we had Shiv so I hoped that would not be a problem. What was going to present more difficulty was the braided rope of oiled leather which tied each of them to an iron ring set firmly into a little stone pillar. I gnawed at a split in my lip as I tested a dagger on it; the knot was so complicated and tightened that I didn't even consider trying to undo it. I huffed with exasperation; the stuff was as hard as dried meat and about as easy to cut. It was not going to be fast work.

As I shifted my grip on the dagger to get more pressure, a stinging pain on the side of my head made me look up, startled. I looked round to see Ryshad kneeling up and readying a second pebble to get my attention. When he saw I was looking his way, he gestured frantically back round behind himself and I saw the reflection of the rising sun on metal-studded livery. I was round behind the boats in a moment and, with an annoyance that drove out any thought of fear, saw a detachment of black-clad troopers making their way down the main track at a steady pace. They vanished behind a rise in the ground and I considered my limited options hastily.

I could not rejoin the others; the incoming enemy would see me if I tried to cross the open ground on either side of the stream. As soon as they reached the fork in the track, they'd see me by the boats unless I hid under one. That was an idiot's choice since I'd bet they had been sent to guard the boats, which meant our escape had to have been discovered by now. I looked at the distant towers of White-hair's keep; there didn't seem to be any commotion over that way but then that wasn't really his style.

I dashed for the better cover of the boathouse and worked my way round to get it between me and the approaching peril. There was a little door at the far end and I was through it like a cat fleeing ratting dogs. It was indeed a boathouse; the skeletal framework of a new vessel stood on trestles down the centre and benches either side were cluttered with carved sections of bone, glue pots, binding, needles and scraps of leather. I moved carefully down to the main doors and peered through the crack.

The Elietimm were coming down the track at a fair pace but, now I could see them more clearly, I saw all was not the highly trained efficiency we had come to expect. They were being led by an individual in a long black cloak whose very posture proclaimed arrogance, and he was being shadowed by a burly hulk with silver chains gleaming round the upper arms of his jerkin and the natural swagger of a second-in-command. This was all very impressive and the four following them looked suitably alert and well trained. What let their parade down was the lard-arse puffing along at the rear. He moved with the grace of a pregnant sow, though rather more slowly, and he was falling further and further behind.

As I watched, the others halted and the one I would have called a sergeant was clearly shouting at Fatty, reminding me of every reason I've ever had for avoiding working in an organised militia. I caught snatches of the guttural abuse and realised the breeze was coming off the land, which would work to our advantage. Any noise we made would be carried away from them and the long shadow of the boathouse stretched away to my left, which meant the sun would be in their eyes as well. We had to make use of every possible advantage and I quickly scanned my surroundings for anything useful.

I pulled a nicely tanned skin down off a rack in a moment and grabbed some shears to cut a sling. It wasn't the same as poisoned darts but at least I'd have something to hit the bastards with before we met hand to hand. I paused for a moment, hacked off another strip, sliced a hole in the centre and produced myself an instant leather tabard which had more chance than a woollen tunic to turn a blade. The only other potentially useful things I could see were a clutch of heavy spears lashed together out of sections of wood, bone and leather. I picked one up and, keeping an eye out through the crack in the door, weighed it dubiously in my hand. I'd be better off trying to throw one of the paddles but perhaps I could use it as a sort of pike, which is a useful weapon so long as you can keep the bastard trying to slice you up at the pointed end.

I propped a handful of the spears against the door and bent to feel around for sling-sized pebbles on the shingle floor as I watched the sergeant move back along the track to give Fatty a personal kicking. Movement in the long grass on the seaward side of the dunes caught my eye and Ryshad risked a brief glance over the tussocks. I slipped the bar from the door, cracked it open and waved him down, thinking fast. The Elietimm had to be coming to guard the boats and, as far as I was concerned, alone and discovered meant dead. The four of us might have been able to take the seven of them but Shiv was out of the game for a stand-up fight. What we needed was to get together and hold them off just long enough to push a boat into the water and escape. This was the time for a distraction and I just hoped Ryshad would be able to hold Aiten back long enough for me to manage one.

A side window gave me a view towards the huts and I could just see the grey-green thatch of a roof. Setting a fire has always been a favourite option when I've needed to divert unwelcome attention and this would have the added advantage of occupying whoever might be living in the little settlement since I didn't fancy adding men used to putting spears through swimming sea-beasts to the opposition.

I concentrated on the patch of roof with all my might and sang out the words of the cantrip, drawing on every Forest rhythm bred in my bones. Nothing seemed to happen for a sickeningly long moment, then I saw a grey haze spiral skywards and greedy snatches of flame licking at the thatch. I eased the door open again and saw the others were all now crouching cautiously at the very edge of the cover. Saedrin bless them, they were obviously going to make a break to support me, whatever the risks.

I held them still with an open palm and watched the Elietimm detachment carefully. The sergeant was now nose to nose with Fatty and prodding him in the chest to punctuate his words. The officer in the cloak was watching with proud aloofness while two of the others were clearly enjoying seeing someone else get a poke in the stones for a change. All three jumped when one of the others caught sight of the fire spitting up over the roofs of the huts and shouted; I very nearly laughed despite the dangers of our situation as they moved, halted, looked wildly at each other and then started up the right-hand fork of the track.

I flung the door open and waved the others in, heart racing as I stood helplessly motionless, sling in hand as they raced across the open ground. Aiten and Ryshad had Shiv between them, his arms over their shoulders, and I swear his boots stayed dry as they crossed the little stream. I really thought they were going to make it but as they passed the cluster of boats, some alert bastard looked back to the sea and saw them, his yell silencing the rising murmur of panic from the huts.

As the others reached me in the mouth of the boathouse, the soldiers turned to face us and I saw a gold gorget at the throat of the officer flash in the sunlight.

'Thank you, Lord of the Sea,' Aiten breathed with savage satisfaction.

'How so?' I asked nervously as I saw him tighten his grip on his sword in a purposeful manner.

'That's the bastard who was in charge of trying to kick my stones up through my ribs earlier.'

I could see he was spoiling for a fight and I suppose it was hard to blame him.

'Look, Ait, we just need to hold them off until we can get a boat in the water,' I warned him. 'We can't take them on in a straight fight.'

'I'll deal with the boat.' Shiv was looking strained but alert and I flashed him a quick smile.

'I'll help.' Ryshad passed the spears to Aiten. 'Try and spoil someone's day with these.'

Aiten grinned with a savagery I'd never seen on his good-natured face before and he hefted the solid missile with an ease which spoke encouragingly of experience. I sorted out a good handful of stones and we crouched in the doorway as the enemy drew closer.

'I don't think they can see us,' I murmured with wonder as they came onwards, the one who'd raised the alarm gesturing to the rest as they looked all around the boats and the boathouse. The sergeant was still to the rear, giving Fatty a hard time, and this was clearly distracting the others.

'We're in shadow, aren't we? They have the sun in their eyes.' Aiten narrowed his eyes measuringly then rose with an explosive shout to hurl his spear.

'Catch, shit for brains!'

I don't know if it was the surprise or the sunlight dazzling him but the first one just stood there till the heavy spear ripped right through his chest, sending him crashing to the ground in a welter of blood and gurgles. The shock halted the others long enough for Aiten to launch a second spear into the air but they were soon moving when they realised what was coming their way. Much good it did them; Aiten had clearly done this before and another one went down screaming like a pig with the head of the spear embedded in his leg.

Harsh yet oddly musical syllables rang out over his screams and I realised the officer was starting a chant as Ryshad and Shiv broke for the boats. Shiv worked on the rope of one while Ryshad put his sword through the bottom of the others.

'Dozy bitch, a gorget means magic, doesn't it?' I muttered angrily to myself as I rapidly wound up the sling with an egg-sized stone. You can forget any nonsense about hitting him between the eyes, I aimed for his chest. The stone flew hard and true and he doubled over, sinking to his knees with a screech that promised a cracked rib at the very least.

'Right, you bastards, I'm going to kill you!' Aiten launched himself out of the doorway, sword in one hand, dagger in the other.

'Wait!' I yelled pointlessly. I looked at Shiv and blinked as I saw the complicated knots unravelling themselves under his hand. Ryshad helped him flip the boat right way up and then ran to back up Aiten, who was closing with the two leading Elietimm.

'Dast's teeth!' Since Shiv was getting the boat into the water rapidly enough, I ran after the two bloodthirsty idiots. Ryshad went for the sergeant and Fatty was backing off with an expression of horror so I looked for an opening to help Aiten, who was hacking down the guard of the remaining two foot soldiers.

A guttural hiss alerted me to the officer, who was looking up from his agony with hatred in his eyes. I stared at him and froze in unreasoning terror as I recognised him. His hair was dark and his skin unlined but every bone of his face told me this was what the Ice-man must have looked like a generation ago.

He spat something at me in measured cadences but before he could get to the end of his spell, I was on him, daggers drawn and bowling him to the ground with the unthinking strength of panic. He cursed and managed to grab one of my wrists while my other dagger scraped uselessly at the mail on his back. With a thrust of his hips, he managed to roll us over but I've done more dirty fighting than I usually care to admit and I was out from under him, doing my best to kick into the side of his knee joints as I carried on over and back to the top. I ducked down and butted him in the nose, and felt a warm gush of blood in my hair as his attempts to speak choked on it. A searing pain in my scalp meant he was biting back but I managed to get my free hand round and raked up toward his eyes with my nails. In a convulsive movement, he nearly threw me off; I managed to hook a leg round him but lost my free hand to his vice-like grip. We rolled over and over, sand in my eyes, my nose, my mouth as we each struggled to find an advantage over the other.

His greater weight was beginning to tell and I was starting to think I had caught a wolf in a rat-trap when he suddenly choked and released his grip on me to claw at his throat. He turned a peculiar shade of blue and slumped across me, completely unconscious. I heaved his body off and scrubbed my face vaguely clean. Shiv was standing a little way off looking at the collapsed officer with a remarkably smug expression.

'What happened?'

'I took the air out of his lungs,' Shiv said with vicious satisfaction.

I stared down. 'Is he dead?'

'Not yet, not if I don't want him to be.'

I looked over to Aiten and Ryshad, who were standing over Fatty. He had evidently thrown away his sword and was down on his knees, belly wobbling like a skin of ale as he spread his hands in supplication.

'He'll tell them where we went!' Aiten was clearly all for killing him.

'He can tell them we've got your pal with the gold necklace,' Ryshad countered. 'I told you a good hostage would be worth having.'

Aiten spat something at Fatty and they left him cowering in the sand as I helped Shiv drag Gold-gorget into the boat.

'So you've got your hostage, Rysh, and Ait got to kill people. If everyone's happy, can we please leave this pissing place?'

Ryshad and Aiten grinned at me as they got in and it was impossible to keep up my pretence of irritation.

'You get more luck than you deserve!' I shook my head at Ryshad.

'Dastennin favours me, what can I do?' he asked, wide-eyed.

'You can keep praying and keep on his good side.' Shiv ran his hands along the sides of the boat and it began to move rapidly through the water. 'We've got half a stuffing ocean to cross before we're anywhere near safety.'

Bremilayne Docks, 3rd of For-Winter

Casuel stamped across the quay, his face clouded with a sufficiently forbidding scowl so that even the idling dockers gave him room to pass. He clutched the wax-paper packets of herbs and dried fruit with impotent anger. He was a wizard, he fumed; he was due more respect than this. It was all very well for Esquire Camarl, he had grown up used to ordering menials around and doubtless he didn't mean anything by it, but Casuel was not a footman and Camarl really shouldn't be sending him out on errands like this. Why wasn't Darni running up and down the steep streets, collecting pointless packages like a maidservant? He looked across to the far side of the harbour and the distant ship riding gently at the quayside, a tall-masted, rangy vessel with steep sides and a questing prow, the tiny figures of Darni and Camarl busy with the crew as they prepared to sail.

A ragged skein of crab-trapper boats rounded the long arm of the sea-wall. They bobbed over the gleaming waters of the harbour and began to tie up. People with baskets on their arms started to gather on the dockside, eager for first pick of the catch. Casuel's mood lifted a little at the prospect of fresh lobster: they were so much better on the ocean coast. The food at the guest-house had been a pleasant surprise, if the accommodations were a little old-fashioned and sparse. He pushed his cloak back over one shoulder and tucked the parcels under his arm. At least it wasn't raining today; the sky was a freshly washed blue and a gentle breeze was bowling fluffy clouds overhead. He wasn't exactly looking forward to risking the open ocean but hopefully their voyage wouldn't be too rough, not with Otrick to control the winds.

'Casuel, we meet again!'

Casuel halted and turned, astonished to be greeted like this. A short, blond man stepped out from behind a rack of drying nets, all smiles.

'You have the advantage, sir.' Casuel tried to look uncon-rerned but his mind was racing. This was the enemy! How could he summon help? Darni? Camarl?

'We met in Hanchet, don't you recall?' The fair-haired man smiled cheerfully. 'You were most helpful; spite and envy make a mind so very easy to read.'

Casuel gaped and turned to run but the man gripped his arm with fingers of iron and steel flashed in his other hand. A shocking pain lit through Casuel's head and his eyes were held, frozen, helpless in that icy green gaze. A disdainful touch scoured the surface of his mind, rough and superficial.

'So that's the ship and those are your allies; thank you, that's all I wanted to know.' The enemy glanced at the purchases in the crook of Casuel's elbow with a brief, contemptuous smile and then stabbed him abruptly above the belt buckle. Casuel folded around the hammer blow of the knife stroke and was pushed with one swift movement into the tangle of nets. He clasped frantic hands around the hilt, whimpering as an ominous thread of blood welled from his guts, gasping for breath. The blond man looked down for a moment then vanished in the gathering throng.

'Help,' he croaked. 'Help me!'

Casuel managed to get himself to a sitting position, half hanging in the nets, muscles cramping brutally in a vain effort to do something about the red-hot agony spreading from his midriff. Warm blood on his fingers was sticky and slippery at the same time. Yelping like a kicked dog, Casuel managed to shuffle forward on his buttocks, biting clean through his lip as the pain seared him. He rested, panting, his boots clear of the nets, blood trickling through the cobbles to pool around the scuffed leather, glistening drops scarlet on the wrappings of his little parcels.

Steps rang on the stones and Casuel looked up with relief. 'Help me, I've been—'

He stared, uncomprehending, as the fisherman stepped over his feet and went on his way regardless. 'You bastard,' he croaked despairingly.

The knife was a white-hot rod running from his stomach to his spine, an iron bar of scorching agony, his torn body melting around it. The rest of him was growing colder by the breath, clammy sweat freezing on his brow.

Casuel screamed in fresh anguish as someone stepped on his ankle, wrenching his leg and sending new torment to his abdomen.

'Watch where you're stepping!' the fishwife said cheerfully to her companion as their skirts swished past Casuel's disbelieving eyes. They could not see him! They did not realise he was there! How could that be? There was no magic worked round him! He leaned against the post, eyes blank with fear. He was going to die here!

Movement on the dockside caught his eye; the boats were unloading baskets of sluggishly moving crustaceans and the fishwives and townsfolk were stepping forward to argue the prices. A whimper of fresh despair escaped him, nothing to do with the agonies in his belly. Pushing through the throng, Casuel saw several blond heads heading for the distant berth of the pirate ship. He reached for the earth, a futile effort, the iron in his stomach twisting and dispersing the magic. He clutched at the wound in hollow terror; it felt as if his whole stomach was tearing apart inside him.

'Casuel!' Allin's white face peered through the netting, her expression one of horror. 'Halcarion help me!'

'The enemy, here!' Casuel struggled for more words, lightheaded, shuddering as every sense in his body screamed in confusion over the wound.

Allin moved round to kneel in front of him, dumping her basket and ripping at her petticoats.

'Hold still,' she commanded, as she folded a pad of linen. A faint scent of lavender floated to Casuel's nostrils, rising above the charnel smell of blood like a ghost of summer.

'Here.' She pressed the linen against the wound and Casuel gasped. After a moment, he grasped the hilt of the dagger but Allin gripped his fingers tight, heedless of the blood.

'No, not until we've got you to a surgeon.' She removed his hand with absolute authority and looked around, her round face pale and set.

'Look!' Casuel pointed to the ship, arm jerky and uncoordinated, desperation in his faint voice.

There was trouble aboard the pirate vessel. Allin stared as one of the great booms came crashing down, sails tearing with a sound like thunder, the screams of a crushed man mingling with the shrieks of the gulls. A sweep of torn canvas landed on two men to become an active, smothering thing, their muffled struggles increasingly frantic as they grappled with it, ragged edges rippling with malice as it wrapped itself tighter and tighter. A body fell from the highest mast, ropes coiling after it like snakes. A second man fell but was caught up before he reached the deck, a killing noose looping around his neck; he hung in the shrouds like a broken-necked bird. A little crab-boat at the next berth bobbed against the jetty, its crew oblivious as they haggled cheerfully with a knot of eager customers.

'Get Planir,' Casuel gasped but Allin was already tying the rough dressing tight to his wound with her sash.

'Don't move and for Saedrin's sake, don't touch the knife,' she commanded and ran full-pelt across the quay, heedless of the surprised glances of the populace calmly going about their business.

Casuel leaned against the net-post, sucking in feeble breaths, eyes wide with dread and despair as he watched the chaos on their vessel. He could see Darni now, unmistakable in his red cloak and dark hair. The cheerful sunlight danced on Darni's sword as he flailed at some invisible enemy, swinging this way and that at another unseen foe. Wheeling swiftly round, he lunged, lashing out and felling some hapless seaman, heedless of his unintended victim as he pursued the phantoms only he could see. Swaying and jumping, his sword swung, all his attention on the empty air before him. He lunged but less smoothly this time, his moves becoming more and more ragged, panic threatening as he looked round, assailed now on two sides, three and more.

Camarl was backing slowly along the stern rail, dagger held before him, half bent in a fighting crouch, one hand reaching backwards to check his position, eyes fixed on some unseen threat. He darted forward, then back, leaping to one side to avoid an imaginary thrust. Flinching, he clapped a hand to his shoulder, body angling to protect the injury his mind was seeing, arm hanging uselessly by his side, blade falling from numb fingers. Moving backwards once more, he suddenly ripped off his green cape and dived over the rail, plunging into the busy waters of the harbour. Casuel saw his head reappear briefly but realised with consternation that the young noble's attempts at swimming were failing, the skills of his body foiled by his mind's conviction that his arm was useless.

Several more white gouts of foam in the dull green water of the harbour signalled the fates of men falling from the rigging. The booms and canvases of the ocean ship swung wildly to and fro, flailing as if they were caught in some manic whirlwind while the gaily coloured sails of the little fishing boats hung gently flapping in the light breezes. Ropes lashed out at impossible angles to tangle around legs and arms, tools and spars rose from the deck to stab and club unprotected heads. A water cask pulled itself from its rack and bowled down on a couple of lads cowering by the deckhouse, crushing them mercilessly. All the while, the everyday business of the port hummed merrily around the carnage, unseeing, unheeding.

'Stuff me!'

Casuel managed to lift his heavy head to see Otrick staring down with a expression of mingled horror and wrath. He raised a blood-stained hand to point to the crowded quayside.

'Fair heads.' He forced the words out through gritted teeth.

Otrick leaned forward, eyes narrowing. 'I'll have the bastards.'

Women waiting their turn to pick over the baskets of blue-grey shells began to look around as fingers of wind plucked at their scarves and shawls. A couple of fishermen glanced up at the clear blue sky with puzzled expressions. Gusts of air snatched at skirts and cloaks and the press of the crowd began to loosen and spread out. Water began to seep across the quayside, exclamations rising as women cursed suddenly damp stockings and looked to see who could be so carelessly discarding slops, whether garbage had choked one of the sloping drains that ran across the quay. Several stumbled, cobbles unaccountably loosened, rolling underfoot. One nameless figure slipped and fell, a circle of confusion rippling outwards as someone else tripped over her, basket rolling round to catch another unwary victim. The cheerful mood of the morning began to waver as people looked round, puzzled and disconcerted.

'Right.' Otrick cracked his knuckles and bright blue fire crackled in his eyes as they glinted in the sunlight. The fair-haired men had almost reached the ocean ship but the growing disquiet among the quayside crowd was slowing them, although still no one seemed to see the foreigners, surely unmissable with pale heads shining above their stark black livery, silver studs dull with sea salt. A sudden, smacking wave wrenched a clutch of the little crab boats away from the dock, ropes snapping, the waiting townsfolk recoiling from the spray and leaving the black-clad men exposed. Water bubbled up around their feet, foam seething through the cobbles. Cracks opened up in the dock as their boots came down, catching their iron-shod heels. The men staggered, buffeted as if by a winter gale, when women just strides away could move without hindrance. Cries of alarm and annoyance from the people rose above the slapping of the water and the cries of the gulls. A dark cloud boiled up from nowhere and hid the sun.

'Just knock them down, I don't want anything too dramatic.' Planir appeared with Allin at his heels and raised a hand as Otrick gathered sparkling blue light around his fingers. 'We don't want to start a riot and I don't want too much to have to explain to Messire! This is bad enough as it is.'

The old wizard snorted with disapproval but the blackness melted away and the fair-haired men simply dropped to the cobbles as if they'd been clubbed. Shouts of consternation rose as the fishwives and sailors suddenly noticed the interlopers; some began forcing a path away, others moved closer then hesitated to approach, gesturing with wondering hands.

'The ship!' Allin pointed a trembling finger.

The chaos on the vessel showed no signs of abating; knots of terrified men were huddling together, fighting off ropes and sailcloth, spars and cargo as the lifeless objects around them continued their assaults. Some were trying to reach the rail and take their chances in the harbour but loose timbers swung from ropes, scything viciously down to fell anyone who made the attempt.

'So, who's doing that?' Planir murmured, lips thin as he set his jaw, turning to scan the dockside and the rise that led up to the town.

'I can't feel a thing; just how are the bastards working it?' Otrick's face was sour with frustration.

'There.' Planir pointed and a nondescript figure half-hidden behind a stall suddenly doubled over. 'Look for someone else who's not moving, towards or away.'

'Someone will have Casuel's blood on his hands.' Allin spoke up. 'Could you find that?'

Otrick rubbed his hands together and scowled. 'I've got one, there by the inn.'

A woman screamed as a man measured his length on the cobbles and nearly tripped her. She kicked him in passing, half by mistake, and continued to hurry away. Real panic was starting to run through the crowd now and the hapless man disappeared under a mass of booted feet and homespun skirts. When the press parted, he was lying like a trampled doll, cloak soiled, footprints clearly visible on it, fair hair dull with dirt and bloodied around his face.

The chaos on the pirate ship halted abruptly; Darni emerged from a gang of sailors and ran down the gangplank, sword naked before him. He ran along the dock, arms spread, head shaking, startled fishermen falling backwards out of his path. Darni ignored them, alternately searching the crowd for anyone he could legitimately attack and glancing down into the water for any sign of those who'd fallen or jumped.

'Darni, here!' Planir did not seem to raise his voice but the warrior evidently heard him halfway across the harbour and headed their way.

'Where are the stuffing bastards?' he demanded, face scarlet, drenched in sweat, seemingly oblivious to the chill of the season. 'I'll have their stones for this!'

'We'll take care of them in a while.' Planir knelt beside Casuel, concern plain on his face. 'Let me see that.'

He loosened the dressing with careful fingers, maintaining the pressure on the wound and mindful not to touch the bone hilts of the dagger. He snatched a quick look beneath the sodden linen and then tied it on tightly again.

'We need a surgeon and fast,' he said grimly.

'Bespeak Hadrumal,' Darni insisted. 'Talk to someone who was working with Geris; they'd been working on healing.'

Planir looked at Allin, who was folding another pad from strips of torn linen. 'You did well.'

'You learn a lot when stupid men spend half a summer dying in your hedgerows,' she said unhappily, kneeling to apply the new dressing. 'How are we going to move him?'

'Here.' Darni removed his cloak and spread it on the ground. 'We'll take a corner each and go slowly.'

'Let me help. What's happened to Gas?'

Casuel opened bleary eyes to see Esquire Camarl looking round Darni's shoulder, sodden hair in rats' tails, dripping water down his face.

Casuel wanted to say something, anything, a last message, but all he could manage was a tearful whisper. 'Tell my mother I love her.'

'Tell her yourself, I'm not a messenger-boy,' Darni said, his robust words at odds with his careful hands as he lifted Casuel on to the thick wool. 'It's a good thing this cloak's red, Cas, but you can still pay the cursed wash bill.'

'Where's the best surgeon?' Planir demanded of Camarl.

'Cockleshill,' the Esquire answered after a moment's thought. 'This way.'

'Shit!' Otrick's curses halted them after a couple of awkward steps.

Allin followed his pointing arm and saw the remaining crew from the pirate ship had gathered around the fallen foemen. Arms were raised with improvised clubs and the occasional flash of a blade, boots were going in with concerted, bone-snapping determination. One gang rolled a ragged bundle to the dockside and dumped it lifeless into the scummy water lapping rubbish round the slimy wooden piles.

'Saedrin's stones!' Planir shook his head. 'Oh well, they're just the spear-carriers, aren't they. Camarl, it's those two we want. Find something to tie them up in.' He shifted his grip on the cloak to one hand, to point with the other.

Casuel could not stifle a low moan as he was rolled sideways.

'Of course, I see them.' Camarl moved and Casuel heard him calling for assistance in the commanding tones of a Tormalin noble. 'You and you, those men are criminals. Hold them! You, bring me rope, fast as you can. Captain, get me a runner, I need to contact the Patron D'Olbriot!'

'Let's get going.' Darni could not hide the concern in his voice. 'Cas is in a bad way.'

They moved, slowly, awkwardly, taking small shuffling steps over the uneven cobbles.

'Cheer up,' Otrick said abruptly. 'Young Cas here's finally managed something useful.'

Casuel stared muzzily at the old wizard, blinking as he swayed between the four of them, looking up into a dizzying pattern of backs, roofs and clouds, concerned voices echoing around him, words meaningless as his wits bled out.

'What are you talking about?' The exasperation in Planir's tone betrayed his worry.

'You were wondering how to persuade the Council to back you, weren't you?' Otrick was starting to puff a little as they began to climb up the steep street. 'There'll be no questions now. These people have attacked a mage, and not some backstreet philtre-maker, one of our own, even if it is Casuel. When did something like that last go unpunished? Not since the Chaos, if I remember my history right!'

Otrick's thin cheeks were scarlet with exertion as he looked down into Casuel's grey, drawn face.

'There you go, Gas, you've done something not even the Archmage could have done. The Council will follow us across any ocean and back again now, just to make sure everyone learns they can't get away with this kind of thing. We'll have the bastards for this, don't you fret.'

'What about the ship and the crew?' Darni asked grimly. 'We're going nowhere without them and they look in a pretty shitty state to me at the moment. What's your pal the birdman going to do about that?'

'Shit!'

Casuel felt himself slipping away under waves of pain and dizziness but could not shake a sense of outrage that the last thing he should hear was the Archmage swearing like a five-year mercenary.

The Ocean Approaches, Islands of the Elietimm, 3rd of For-Winter

The seal-boat hurried out to sea with Shiv's magic urging it on. We bounced unnervingly over the foaming breakers as we left the shore but were soon out among the great, rolling swell of the open ocean. I looked back with relief to see the black sands and sere grasslands disappear behind us. Soon the towering summits of the grey mountains were only intermittently in sight as our fleeing boat rose and fell among the peaks and troughs of the sombre green seas. I turned away from the sight, which was threatening to make me queasy. Ryshad was managing the steering with a reassuring display of competence while Shiv knelt in the nose, all his attention questing ahead as he used every fragment of his power to get us away.

It had to be the first time ever I was glad to find myself in a boat, which only went to prove how much I was dreading recapture. The spray from the tops of the swells was caught by the wind and we were soon all wet and chilled but none of us was about to complain. I sat behind Shiv and when the oscillating view of featureless ocean palled, which was pretty rapidly, I turned to see Aiten prodding our prisoner thoughtfully with a foot. He had been dumped unceremoniously in the bottom of the boat and, as far as I was concerned, he could stay there all the way home.

'He's still out of the game, I take it?' I wasn't going to get anywhere near Gold-gorget if I could help it, unconscious or not.

'Totally off the board,' Aiten said cheerfully, grinning broadly at me. 'You know, I really didn't think we were going to get out of that one, flower.'

'Me neither.' I shook my head, which was still ringing with disbelief at our luck.

'We're not out of it yet,' Ryshad reminded us a little sharply, a frown of concentration on his face as he guided the vessel through some turbidly coiling seas.

'We're off those cursed islands and that's good enough for me,' Aiten said robustly and I found myself smiling too.

'You know, Rysh, the only convincing thing I ever heard a Rationalist say was “enjoy the moment when it happens”. This one feels pretty good to me.'

That won a reluctant smile from Ryshad and, when Shiv turned to catch what we were saying, I could see the strain was lessening in his face too.

Whatever he was about to say was lost in a sudden gurgle from Aiten's belly.

'Dast's teeth, I'm starving!'

Now he'd mentioned it, I could see us all thinking the same thing. Fear fills the belly while it lasts but we'd need more than fresh air to see us across however much ocean there was in front of us.

Shiv rubbed his hands together and the boat slowed.

'What's the matter?' I asked, more alarm in my tone than I cared to hear.

'I can't keep us moving, keep our friend unconscious and call for fish at the same time,' Shiv explained. 'I'm just not fit to do it all yet.'

Ryshad frowned. 'I'd say we need to keep moving as fast as you can send us. If we tie him up,' he prodded the prisoner with a toe, 'can you just keep his mouth shut so he can't spell us?'

Shiv nodded, his eyes brightening. 'I can put bands of air round his mouth. If I don't have to keep him down, we should be able to get on a lot quicker.'

I reached for the braided leather tether. 'Why didn't you say so?'

I doubled the rope, twisted a slip knot into the centre to go round his neck then used each end to tie Gold-throat's hands and feet. The more he struggled, the sooner he would strangle himself and that would end any threat he might be thinking of posing.

Aiten whistled with admiration. 'You know a thing or two about tying beasts, don't you?'

I tugged on an end to make sure it was fast. 'I'm a woman of many talents.'

My cool pose was spoiled when I jumped as a fat fish dropped past me into the floor of the boat.

'How are you at gutting?'

I turned to see Shiv tossing another dripping offering over his shoulder.

'Useless, since you ask, on fish at least.' I looked at the flapping thing with distaste. 'I suppose there's no way of cooking it?'

'Fish this fresh? No need!' Aiten drew his dagger, looked approving as he tested the edge and cleaned the fish with a few deft strokes. He laid it on the seat across the middle of the boat and sliced wafer-thin mouthfuls from the meat.

'Try it.' He offered me a piece. There was nothing for it, I folded it into my mouth and did my best to swallow without chewing. Actually, it wasn't too bad but I didn't relish the thought of raw fish and plain water all the way home.

Aiten turned to pass some to Ryshad, who ate it without comment or expression. He saw me looking at him and laughed for the first time since we'd escaped.

'I'd rather have some pepper sauce with it, or a decent wine, but I'm quite partial to fresh fish.'

'They have a lot of ways of preparing it in Zyoutessela, don't they?' Shiv reached for some, without any real enthusiasm, I was glad to see.

'Thin sliced with herb paste, soused in sour wine or citrus, rolled with pepper sauce and black salt.' Aiten looked dreamy-eyed for a moment. 'When we get back, I'll take you all to the finest fish-house on the east coast.'

I coughed on the aftertaste of the sea. 'Can you sweeten some water for us, Shiv?'

We all looked around in vain for something to use as a bucket.

'There's always our boots,' Aiten said dubiously.

'We can just use our hands,' Shiv said firmly and as we dipped handfuls from the sea he filled the water with blue light, leaving it free of salt and fit to drink. It was a slow process and the water tasted oddly dead and flat but I wasn't about to complain. As Ryshad leaned forward to take his turn, it occurred to me we should be sharing the steering.

'Can I give you a break?'

Ryshad shook his head. 'Don't get me wrong, but you've no experience with boats, have you? Ait and I'll manage between us.'

I wasn't about to argue or take offence. Cold water and raw fish weren't sitting any too easily in my stomach so I tucked myself down to shelter as best I could from the wind and spray and carefully unfolded Gens' notes. If I could do nothing else, I could find if there was anything we could use to defend ourselves or speed up our journey.

After what must have been most of the morning had passed, I thought I might have found something but as I looked up from the parchment, I saw Gold-throat staring intently at me as he lay uncomfortably in the belly of the boat, outrage shouting silently from his vivid green eyes. I stared back at him, throwing a challenge at him, but he did not drop his gaze.

I looked beyond him to Ryshad, who raised an eyebrow at the intensity of my expression. I nodded at Gold-throat.

'What do you reckon we should do with him then?' I asked casually.

Ryshad paused for a breath and winked at me before replying in the same easy tone. 'We could cut him up for fish bait if you like, or just eat him ourselves if you fancy warm meat.'

'What?'

I ignored Aiten's surprised exclamation; I'd seen fear flare in those grass-coloured eyes as Gold-throat stiffened uselessly against his bonds.

'I'd say our friend here speaks Tormalin.' I turned to Shiv. 'Can you stop up his ears as well?'

'I should have done that earlier, shouldn't I?' Shiv bit his lip with annoyance at the uncharacteristic lapse and wove a tight band of sparkling blue around the man's helpless head. As it faded, I saw real fear in his face that anger could not drive out and I bent closer to stare into those pale eyes with all the threat I could muster. This time, he turned his gaze aside and closed his eyes.

'He's all right. Anyway, Shiv, one of the rest of us should have thought of it as much as you.'

Satisfied, I returned to my notes. 'Listen. There's something here we should try. It's described as a concealment, a way of hiding your tracks.'

'What use is that on water?' Ryshad frowned.

'I don't think it means real tracks but whatever it is that the aetheric spell casters pick up on.' I scowled at the document. 'I'm pretty sure that's what it signifies.'

Aiten shrugged. 'Can't hurt to try it.'

I cleared my throat a little self-consciously and ran through the words silently to find their metre.

'Ar mel sidith, ranel marclenae.' I chanted the words but nothing seemed to happen.

'Has it worked?' Ryshad asked curiously.

I felt more than a little foolish. 'I've no idea.'

There was nothing anyone could say to that. We settled down for a tedious afternoon watching grey waves rolling up to meet a grey sky as the boat scooted over the billows. We were all starting to look and feel more than a little grey ourselves by the end of the day.

I hadn't realised I'd fallen asleep but it was morning when Shiv patted me on the shoulder and I blinked up at him, disconcerted.

'Look, my magic's working anyway!'

I turned to see some enormous fish leaping clean out of the water as they headed straight for us. I swallowed my instant of fear when I saw the smile on Shiv's face and wondered what on earth, or in this case, in the ocean, these could be.

'Dastennin's hounds!' Aiten greeted the creatures with a glad cry and I saw Ryshad was smiling broadly as well so I bit down hard on my own nervousness.

The huge fish frolicked around the nose of the boat and I had to admit they had very friendly faces; long, almost beak-like snouts with engagingly curved mouths. They made peculiar squeaking noises as they reared out of the water to look at Shiv and I saw their mouths were full of effective-looking teeth. I told myself not to worry until the others did but could not help jumping when one surfaced next to me and showered me with warm, fetid spray from a hole in its head.

I tried to restrain myself but I had to ask. 'What are they?'

Shiv looked round from feeding a large one. 'They're dolphins, sea animals, like the whale, but smaller.'

I looked at the sleek bodies thronging the waters, triangular fins cutting through the foam.

'You called them?'

Shiv nodded. 'They can tell me a lot about the waters we're in. I need to know when we're going to reach that main current heading south for a start; crossing that's going to take every scrap of power I've got. If we hit it before I realise, we could find ourselves taken right past the Cape of Winds without knowing it.'

'I think proving there's one new continent is enough for this trip.' Ryshad reached over the side to rub an inquisitive head.

'What did you call them?' I was getting more used to the cheerful creatures but kept my hands well inside the vessel.

'Dastennin's hounds. They're sacred to him.' Aiten was feeding them scraps as well. 'They're supposed to be able to travel between here and the Otherworld whenever they want to, not just in dreams or death.'

A cheerful face popped out of the water and looked at me with a convincing air of intelligence.

I bowed and addressed it in formal tones. 'If you've any way of reaching Dastennin or any of the gods, please ask them to get us home.'

The others smiled but no one laughed. As Aiten had said, it couldn't hurt to try.

I gaped as the creatures abruptly ceased their antics and all dived deep into the waters; I looked questioningly at Shiv.

'I've sent them to find out where we are in relation to the currents around about,' he explained. 'They're going to come back from time to time and make sure we're keeping on course.'

He pointed to the unbroken cloud cover above us, the monotony of the heaving ocean and did not need to explain further. I ate a breakfast of cold, raw fish without enthusiasm and wondered how we were going to survive an ocean crossing in an open boat on such a diet.

Shivering involuntarily and not just from the cold wind, I huddled back down into the meagre shelter afforded by the sides of the boat. I glanced over at Gold-throat and saw a studying look in his dark brown eyes. I had seen that look before and the memory chilled me more thoroughly than wind or water. He met my gaze and hatred burned in those black depths, spitting furious, helpless fire as I lunged desperately over the seat to knock him clean out with a blow to the jaw. I can't usually do that, not even to a bound man, but the fistful of gold and silver rings I'd taken from the keep lent a lot of weight to my argument.

'Livak!' Everyone was staring at me as I wrung my hands to ease my stinging knuckles.

'It wasn't him,' I stammered. 'It wasn't him. Those weren't his eyes; his are green, I was seeing brown, nearly black. It was that bastard, the Ice-man, the one from the keep, his father or whoever he is.'

We all looked uneasily at the motionless body and I wondered how much damage I had done with that punch; you just never can tell and that's got more than a few men hanged.

'The leader, the man who interrogated us, he was looking out through this one's eyes?' Ryshad asked after a long silence.

I nodded emphatically. 'I'm sure of it.'

'So he knows where we are?'

'I've no idea.' I shrugged. 'I just didn't want him looking at me like that.'

'Perhaps we should drop this one over the side,' Shiv said dubiously.

'If they are going to catch up with us, he could be the price for our freedom,' Ryshad reminded him.

Aiten half turned, opening his mouth as if to speak, but said nothing as a puzzled expression crossed his face. He blinked and as I looked at him, I saw the light of his genial brown eyes snuffed out like a candle. Dead blackness looked back at me as his face went slack and unknowing.

'Ait!' I screamed in horror as I dodged a sword blow that would have split my skull like a turnip. I fell backwards on to my bottom, which saved me from the follow-up.

Shiv was moving but was a fraction too slow and the next slashing down stroke bit hard into his arm, snapping the bone like a dead branch. He screamed; I braced myself on the seat and kicked out with both my feet to send whatever had been Aiten just moments before stumbling back down the vessel.

Blue light flared all around me as Shiv pulled me backwards through a spell woven from pure instinct. As the dazzle cleared, I felt a wall of air protecting us.

'Ryshad, he's got Ait, the bastard's got into his head.'

Ryshad had not waited to be told before grabbing his blade but the thing that had been Aiten was already turning to face him, sword rising.

They stood poised in a moment's stillness but when the Ice-man made his move, he did not send Aiten's sword at Ryshad; he had him drive it down right through the bottom of the boat, slicing through the oil-hardened leather like calico.

'You bastard!' Shiv spat as he clutched his shattered arm. He grimaced in pain, gasping with the effort, but I saw a tangle of green lines knit the gash in the hides together again, keeping us afloat for the moment.

I cut my sleeve free and sliced it into crude bandages for Shiv's arm. Blood was streaming down his fingers to mingle with the water sloshing around our feet.

'Let me to it,' I ordered curtly.

Shiv moved his hand, I clamped the linen down hard on the spouting gash. He whimpered with the pain and I cursed helplessly.

'Ait, Ait, fight it, throw the bastard out, fight him.'

There was agony in his voice as I looked up to see Ryshad's sword come up to meet Aiten's, a clash that raised sparks from the blades.

I watched with horror knotting my guts as the puppet that bastard Ice-man had made of his friend continued to lash out at Ryshad. There was none of Aiten's usual finesse; the strokes were signalled like those of a first-season militia recruit and I prayed that this meant Ait was fighting to regain control inside his own skull.

Ryshad's face was twisted with pain and I saw blood on his shirt. I watched with a sinking feeling as I saw Ryshad was not attacking; his sword strokes were all purely defensive. As the Ice-man tightened his hold on Aiten and drew on more of his skills, Ryshad was too slow to respond. Fear of hurting his friend was paralysing him, dooming him.

It was going to have to be me. If Ryshad went down, I could not take on the experience of a trained warrior face to face, whoever was controlling his mind. Shiv was barely conscious now and I shied away from imagining what might happen if he lost control of his spells.

I drew a dagger and moved to the edge of Shiv's barrier, glancing anxiously behind me as I did so. Shiv nodded, face taut with the effort of clinging on to consciousness, knowing what I had to do. I edged forward, as much to ensure I didn't fall out of the wildly rocking boat as to make sure I didn't alert the enemy.

Ryshad lunged forward and I was nearly trodden underfoot as Aiten staggered backwards from a blow to the face. Ryshad had hit him full with the pommel of his sword, blood blew back into my face with the sea spray. I saw the despair on Ryshad's face; that blow should have knocked Aiten clean unconscious into the Otherworld. It had to be the aetheric hold keeping him on his feet. Despair nearly cost Ryshad dear. Aiten's sword flicked forward with something like its old speed and tore a bloody rent down one arm.

I gripped my dagger and wished uselessly for some of my poisons, some of the narcotics I knew could drop a man in his tracks. There was no time. I studied Aiten's back but a heart stroke was too risky; with the boat jouncing underfoot and Aiten lunging back and forth, I chanced hitting a rib, which would be more likely fatal for me. It would have to be a blood stroke, the great vessels in neck or leg. It would drop him fast but would it be fast enough? I just had to pray Ryshad was quick enough to realise what I was doing.

Aiten's feet spread as he steadied himself in the frantically tossing boat. He went to launch a smashing blow at Ryshad's head. As he moved, so did I. Between his legs and up to the inner thigh, I sliced deep into the artery as it left the groin. He stumbled and as Ryshad saw the scarlet gush of life blood, he lunged forward to pin Aiten's arms to his side in a fierce embrace. They sank to their knees in the little boat and Aiten's struggles soon ceased. His head lolled forward on to Ryshad's breast and then sideways; I saw the blackness of possession fade from his eyes, the familiar easy brown returning to pierce my heart. His brow wrinkled faintly and he half opened his mouth as if to speak. Whatever it was went unsaid as he breathed his last in a puzzled sigh and closed his eyes like a tired child.

The agony in Ryshad's face was too much for me to bear and I closed my eyes to blot out the sight of his helpless tears for his friend.

'You bastard, you stinking arsehole, you scum-sucking son of a pox-rotted whore, you're a shit stain on the arse of the world, you'd stuff a pig for pleasure but none would have you.'

I poured out my hatred for the Ice-man in futile obscenities but got no relief. I went to open my eyes again to face the hardness of reality but found I could see nothing.

'You have quite a turn of phrase for a common slut. Still, it enabled me to find you, so I shan't complain.'

The gloom around me lightened with eerie, colourless fire and I saw the Ice-man coming slowly towards me through coiling darkness. I gasped with a terror that almost stopped my heart. What had he done? Where was I? I clutched frantically at my dagger and held it out to ward him off but it was pale and insubstantial in my hand. Shaking like a tree in a gale, I realised he had trapped me inside my own head. I don't know how I knew, I just did.

'You're very astute,' that hated voice agreed, sounding as if he were standing next to me, and I saw the lips on the image move as it floated towards me. I scowled, anger keeping terror barely at bay now the initial shock had passed. I saw the shape was indistinct, fuzzy at the edges; that gave me some measure of strength but, as I watched, it grew lighter against the blackness, more whole, more dreadful.

'I should have paid more attention to you,' he sighed. 'It's just that Geris took such pains to convince me you were nothing more than a bed-warmer, a little feminine comfort servicing him and your conjuror friend.' A revolting anticipation coloured his tone. 'I shall find a lot more to interest me in your mind and your body now I know the truth, shan't I?'

The fear of him let loose inside my mind again was beyond any terror I had known. He could do what he liked to my body; flesh heals and at worst the Otherworld beckons, but to imagine the feel of him in my very intellect again was not to be borne.

'Talmia megrala eldrin fres.' I spat the words at him and the gloom flared scarlet, the image fading for a second.

'Impudent bitch!'

I winced as a lash of pain scored through my head but I repeated the words, screaming at the top of my mind. The darkness lifted for a moment this time and I racked my brains for anything else I could use as I threw the incantation at him again and again.

'You pitiful thing. I have been inside you once, I can do it again.'

I pushed at the coils of malice that threatened to entangle me and walled my reason against him. He knew my mind but that rune reversed meant I knew his; I fought instinctively, not knowing how or why but with all the strength I could summon. What did I have to lose?

I cursed myself for just skipping over the spells in Geris' list, ignoring the unpronounceable words. What I could remember I gasped out and, gibberish though it might be, as I stumbled through the fragments, I felt the whip of his intellect deaden a little, the questing grip on the edges of my mind slipping. The rhythms spoke to memories buried deep inside me and I felt a new surge of hope.

'Marmol, edril, senil, dexil, wrem, tedren, fathen, ardren, parlen, vrek.'

I chanted out the number song of the Forest, nigh on nonsense to the Folk themselves in latter generations but still taught as my father had passed it to me. I shouted out the ancient words and then found a song naming the birds of the Forest; Raven was a game of the Folk long before the rest of the world knew it. I repeated myself over and over as I searched my childhood for meaningless words and cadences that somehow kept the nightmare that was the Ice-man from invading me again.

I could feel his wrath and, more faintly, his confusion; to him I was no more than a child sticking its fingers in its ears and singing a defiant song to drown out a parent's rebukes. It was all I could do but, as any three-year-old can tell you, it's a difficult tactic to beat.

The darkness around me retreated and the terrifying image of the Ice-man drifted for a moment like smoke in a wind. I could feel burning in my wrists and cold in my feet and redoubled my efforts as my senses told me I was still in command of my own body.

'Livak! Livak!' Ryshad's hoarse voice rang in my ears and the Ice-man's curses echoed through my mind in a last burst of fury.

My vision cleared to show me Ryshad's pain-racked face, nose to nose with me. I gasped at the pain of the vice-like grip he had on my wrists.

'Is it you?'

'My eyes are my own, aren't they?'

He stared deep into me, suspicion fading after a long, tense moment.

'It was him?'

'If he tries for you, say the fire chant, old ballads, ancient prayers, old liturgy if you know any. There's power in the words, I don't know why.'

The wind's chill was biting through me and I realised I was wringing wet with sweat, trembling and exhausted like a beast that's been running for its life. My knees buckled and I sank on to the seat, the sickly-sweet smell of blood revolting all around me as the little boat was swung hither and yon by the uncaring seas.

'Rysh? I had to, you do realise that? It wasn't him, it was that bastard who did it but it was the only way.'

I looked up as I stumbled through the broken words but Ryshad was not looking at me. Complete despair such as I have never seen, other than on the face of a man on a scaffold, filled his eyes. I turned to see what he was gaping at and, as we were carried up on a high hill of green water, I saw a thicket of masts coming out of the pale eastern skies. Sails bellied with a full wind as they sped towards us and long pennants bearing the Ice-man's insignia licked towards us like greedy tongues.

'Trimon save us.' Shiv breathed a heartfelt oath to the god of travellers and I saw him grip the side of the little boat, white-knuckled with effort. My spirits wavered upwards as he turned the nose of the vessel and we skimmed the foaming crest of one swell, then another, then another.

'Oh, Pered,' Shiv said softly as his head sank forwards in total collapse. I lunged forward to keep him from falling clean out of the boat but though I had hold of him I dared not move again in case I upset us all completely. The boat was now broadside on to the rolling waves, rocking sideways and threatening to spill us out. Aiten's body sloshed around in the water steadily gathering around our feet; I saw we were starting to sink as Shiv's spell began to lose its radiance.

'They won't get all of us.' Ryshad moved with sudden fury and heaved the pitiful corpse over his shoulder, his friend's last blood staining his back as he dropped him into the vastness of the ocean.

'Dastennin take you, Ait. Travel well and follow his hounds to the Otherworld, where your deeds will go before you. We'll keep your memory bright here until we join you.'

He choked on the words of farewell and I reached out with my free hand. He grasped it, I held him and we clung together, wordless, helpless, hopeless.

We both jumped as our prisoner suddenly vanished, carried off by some aetheric spell I suppose but to be honest, I really didn't care. I moved to support Shiv as the boat bucked and spun with the gathering winds whipping up the seas around us and finally I wondered if we should just give ourselves up to the greedy waves to spite the Ice-man at the very last. I shivered; it was going to be a dreadful way to die.

The masts came closer and now we could see the long dark hulls of three Elietimm ships. Our boat bucked again, but the jolt did not come from the waves. Another came and I saw a lithe shape slide through the water alongside.

'Dolphins!' Ryshad looked at me with wonder as the pointed fins cut through the spume and began to push our little craft towards the west. A sleek head poked out of the water near Shiv and nodded fruitlessly at him, lunging as if wanting to touch him. I was afraid the beast was going to get us all drowned so I held out Shiv's limp hand to the questing nose.

'Who in Saedrin's name are you?' A ringing voice filled the air around me as the dolphin touched Shiv's hand.

I stared round wildly and saw from Ryshad's startled expression that he had heard it too.

The air above Shiv's senseless head shimmered blue and grew opaque; I saw an old man's face, a sharp-featured man with wind-tossed hair and an unkempt beard, blurred and distorted as if seen through thick glass.

'Who are you?' I could not think what to say.

'I am Otrick,' the face said crisply, as if that said it all. 'Who are you and what are you doing with a mage's ring of power on your hand?'

I looked stupidly at the collection of rings I had gathered and noticed for the first time that I had the silver band purloined from Azazir.

'I didn't realise—'

'Put it on Shivvalan's finger and then put his hand in the water.'

I struggled with the ring, my cold, wet fingers and Shiv's nerveless hands. When I finished my task, green light rose up from the depths all around us and drove the boat forward at a startling pace. A surge of foam gathered at the nose and the dolphins gave up pushing to race alongside, leaping across the bow wave in a manner that I found quite frankly terrifying.

I did not have enough hands for this; I was still keeping Shiv balanced and Ryshad had my dagger hand. I was glad of the reassurance but really wanted to hang on to the side of the boat myself. Ryshad must have seen the insecurity in my face; he moved to sit beside me, putting his arm around me as he gripped the seat for the two of us. The rolling seas drew aside as the boat carried us on the wildest ride of my life. Shaking with whatever fear I had left, I promised myself I'd never set foot on so much as a river ferry after this, not even if finding a bridge took me half a season out of my way.

'What's that?'

As Ryshad spoke, I opened my eyes; I'd been seeing if things were better or worse with them shut.

'Fog?' I tried and failed to keep sarcasm out of my tone.

'Seen much fog like that, have you?'

A spark of life relit Ryshad's eyes and I looked with new interest at the mist. It was a dense bank and I suddenly realised it was moving, ignoring the wind and waves as it swept towards us. I looked over my shoulder but the Elietimm ships were approaching remorselessly. Individual figures could be identified in the rigging now, I could spot the heads of people on the decks. Would we make the shelter of the fog before we were caught? Was this something Otrick had sent?

With a speed that took my breath away, white mist shot towards the enemy ships and I saw it was borne on fists of punishing winds. The Elietimm ships halted like reined-in horses, sails flapping uselessly as the surge of the sea spun them into chaos.

'Look!'

I always seemed to be facing the wrong way. I turned to see the predatory lines of a Dalasorian ocean ship emerge from the bank of fog and our little boat headed for it as if drawn by a rope, green light shining up from the water all around us.

Dead white light startled us, reflecting back from the forbidding barriers of mist, and the Elietimm ships surged forward again. Blue light danced around them, intricate webs of power were woven in the skies, the colour vivid against the dull grey clouds. I groaned. Though the network of spells grew thicker, we could still see some kind of barrier was protecting the ships; if the wizards could not get through, they could not touch the Elietimm.

Our boat rocked as a massive wave gathered the seas to itself and bore down on the pursuing ships. Crashing foam spilled emerald light over the Elietimm prows and one of the ships reeled helplessly under the blow. As it heeled away from the others, taken way beyond the aetheric shelter, air and water combined to raise a spiralling spout which ripped clean through the middle of the hapless vessel. Sails and masts flew high into the sky, decking split like firewood under the axe, while bodies and nameless flotsam scattered far and wide over the dark seas. The prow went down in a roar of white foam, screams abruptly silenced as that half of the stricken vessel headed for the distant ocean floor. The stern rose high in the air, all manner of debris falling as it hung impossibly still for a moment before plunging down to join the rest of the ship. The waters seethed as it vanished, nameless tatters and fragments boiling up from the depths.

The aetheric defences of the Elietimm faltered at the sight and no wonder. The probing blue light coiling round the other ships found a weakness; lightning flashed down from the glowering clouds to shatter the tallest mast on the second ship. The sails were alight in an instant, all three masts blazing like trees in a forest fire. The fires burned brilliant orange but did not die back to the wood once they had devoured the canvas. Now flaring anew with the deep red light that proclaimed wizardry, the greedy flames raced to and fro across the decks, engulfing everyone they snared. Fire sprang vigorously across impossible gaps to snatch at ropes, clothes, hair, devouring all it touched, consuming everything down to ashes with hopeless speed. I swallowed on a suddenly dry mouth as the enchanted blaze took a death grip on the stricken ship, even pursuing those who jumped overboard in a vain effort to escape the inferno, burning them alive as the waters refused to quench the elemental fires. The clouds reflected the light in a horrific parody of sunset and I wondered if it was my imagination or whether I could really feel the heat on my face. The smoke coiled high into the sky, twisted into unnatural patterns by winds doing wizards' bidding as they sought to halt the third ship, which still pressed on, untouched.

'Look, Rysh, dolphins.' I pointed at triangular fins cutting through the chaos of debris on the waters.

Ryshad frowned and drew in a long, slow breath. 'Er, no, I don't think so.'

I looked again and saw something was indeed different: the fins were paired, smaller ones showing a trailing tail.

'Sharks!' Ryshad sprang to his feet and turned to the wizards' ship.

'Halloo, get a rope to us quick,' he bellowed. 'We've wounded aboard and sharks are gathering.'

I watched, not quite understanding until one of the long grey shapes came seeking the source of our tantalising trail. As it passed by our fragile craft, it heeled over and I saw the gill slits of a true fish, cold dead eyes with no spark of intelligence or compassion and a curved mouth with row upon row of teeth like barbs on a man-trap. The boat rocked as it passed and I noticed the shark was longer than our thin-skinned little boat by more than an arm span.

'Will it attack?' I called to Ryshad, who was standing by the rudder, sword poised to smash into any questing nose.

'It's been known,' he said grimly. 'They'll follow the blood in the water.'

His shouts had spurred activity on the wizards' ship; men were lowering a net over the side and I saw a tall figure in rough clothes swinging a coil of rope around his head. It came singing through the air and, as Ryshad caught it, the gang of sailors began hauling us in. I turned to see the sharks were more interested in the easier meat struggling among the wreckage of the other boats and tried to shut my ears to the choking screams.

The third boat pressed on, ignoring the drowning men even as they were sucked down into its wake. It came closer and closer, unslowing despite the multi-hued network of light around it as wizards of every talent fought to penetrate the power that protected it. It loomed above us; we were nearly at the Dalasorian ship but, as I moved ready to catch a rope, I saw sailors suddenly fall from the rigging like frost-killed birds. The men on deck ran this way and that, complete panic threatened by something I could not see as the Elietimm struck back with aetheric magic.

A crack of thunder split the heavens and I saw an instant of blue skies as the clouds above the Elietimm ship were rent apart. The gap closed in a moment but, as we watched, the clouds began to circle, roiling, darkening, coiling down towards the ship. A second thunderclap made my ears hurt and a bright white flash shot down from the heart of the cloud.

It was a dragon, a dragon of air, a creature of clouds and thunder. It was huge, twice the size of Azazir's water dragon, and it dwarfed the black ship as it circled overhead. Its belly was silver rippled with faintest gold like the fine clouds high on a winter's sunrise, and the rest was the pure white of the soaring mountain-high clouds of the plains. It flew down and around the wizards' ship, face questing towards it. We were close now, close enough for me to see the spines on its crest, transparent as icicles, the grey-blue line of scales down the middle of its back rimed with frost, the startling azure of its eyes which narrowed as it suddenly darted towards the hapless enemy ship. Soaring high above and hovering impossibly on broad sweeps of its translucent wings, it lashed at the masts with its massive tail, sending wood, sails and rope crashing down in a hopeless tangle. The screams of the doomed Elietimm were lost in the unearthly howling of the triumphant dragon as it flew upwards, circled and stooped like a hawk, diving to rend anything it could see in its shining white jaws. Claws with the size and brilliance of swords batted the futile defiance of a few soldiers aside into bloody fragments.

The downstroke of its wings battered the water, driving the waves aside to send us crashing into the side of the wizards' ship. I grabbed the netting and clung to it like a miser to his purse strings.

'Help!' I screamed. 'Saedrin's arse, help us!'

Faces appeared over the rail and hands reached down to haul me up into the ship. I shivered in the cold wind as shock finally worked its claws into me but I pushed aside solicitous hands that would have wrapped me in blankets and taken me away.

'We've an unconscious man—'

As I forced the words out between chattering teeth, two lithe mariners were over the side without delay. Ryshad's dark, curly head appeared over the rail and he half climbed, half fell into the boat.

'Livak!'

I turned incredulously to see if I was imagining things or the owner of that harsh voice was really standing behind me.

'Hello, Darni,' I said, having difficulty believing I was seeing him again.

He looked past me to the sailors, lifting Shiv carefully on to a blanket, and I was pleased to see genuine concern in his eyes. A hatch opened and as Shiv was lowered carefully below to waiting hands, Darni heaved a sigh of relief. He moved abruptly to look down into our frail boat.

'Geris?' There was a catch in his voice.

I shook my head wearily. 'We found him but he was already dead.'

The words threatened to choke me. I brushed at my eyes, suddenly full of tears from the biting wind, exhaustion and that abiding sorrow.

Darni's face fell and I could not think what to say. I reached into my shirt and pulled out the documents I'd been cherishing, sea-stained and sweat-smeared though they were. 'I found some of his work. It's important — one of your wizards should see it.'

Darni ignored the parchments. 'I'd rather have had Geris back,' he said gruffly.

I fought a very real urge to ram the documents down his throat and was about to give him my opinion of his ingratitude when Ryshad draped a blanket over my shoulders. I huddled into it gratefully.

'How do you come to be here, just when we need you? It's a cursed lucky coincidence.'

He clasped his hands tightly round a steaming cup and I reached forward eagerly as a warmly clad sailor offered me one. It was spiced wine and the welcome warmth seared straight down to my toes.

'Coincidence, my arse! This isn't some bard's fantasy ballad.' Darni lifted his head with a trace of his usual arrogance. 'I said we could find a trail in Inglis, and I was right. Those bastards in the black leathers cleared out at the same time as you lot but I took the time to make some contacts in Inglis. Everyone was trying to earn the reward for ringing the bell on Yeniya's killers and we tracked down that group who were trying to blend in by wearing local clothing. You remember, Livak?'

I remembered his scepticism when Geris and I had said that was what they were doing but I kept quiet. It wasn't important now.

'I reckoned they'd be desperate enough to try for another hit when they'd lost out to the other lot. I had details of other prospects with Tormalin artefacts in the city, so I went to the Watch. I'm an Archmage's agent, don't forget, with the insignia to prove it and the Council to back me up. The Guild leaders were as keen as Planir so we kept a close watch on all the likely targets.'

Darni paused for breath, pride in his achievements evident, the desire to say 'I told you so' apparent though mercifully unspoken as yet. I was not interested; he could be as smug as a horse at stud for all I cared. We'd reached the islands before him and we'd found Geris, albeit too late, while he was probably bullying underlings with the threat of someone else's magic. I squeezed my eyes shut on tired tears.

'So how do you come to be here, just when we need you?' Ryshad's tone was curious but sadly lacking in the admiration Darni was clearly expecting. An older, harsher voice answered him

'Shivvalan is my pupil. Once I knew I was looking for him out here, finding those islands was comparatively easy.'

I recognised the skinny white-haired man coming towards us as Otrick. He was shorter than I had imagined, barely my height, dressed in rough canvas breeches and a short, grubby blue cloak. To me, he looked more like a pirate than an eminent wizard. I curbed my desire to ask how come he hadn't managed it sooner, if it was so easy; a handful of days would have made all the difference to Geris, finding us before daybreak would have saved Aiten. I thrust away the sudden memory of his warm blood spilling over my hand.

'How did you find our boat?' Ryshad asked, evidently glad to have someone other than Darni to thank, a sentiment I wholeheartedly shared.

'That was a little more difficult, I have to admit. I've had every whale and dolphin this side of the Cape of Winds searching the seas.'

Otrick grinned toothily at us and I was struck by the brilliance of his sapphire eyes.

'That dragon,' I said suddenly. 'Was it real or an illusion?'

Otrick looked at me, cunning and amusement mingled in his smile. 'That would be telling, my lady. It did the trick, didn't it?'

We all looked at the wreckage-strewn sea, the screams of the dying Elietimm now replaced by the thin cries of seabirds summoned from who knew where to pick at the spoils.

'Planir's compliments, Otrick, but could you come below?' A thin man dressed in a warm cloak appeared at his elbow. His tone managed to be both obsequious and aggravated at the same time; his expression of disapproval looked to be habitual, given the lines it was carving into an otherwise handsome enough face. His colour was pretty sickly and he moved like a man with belly-ache so I supposed he might have some excuse for his mood.

'What do you want, Casuel? Oh, I suppose so. Come on, you two, you'd better get dry too.'

Ryshad and I followed Otrick, leaving Darni standing dissatisfied on the deck. Getting out of the buffeting wind into a warm, dry cabin was one of the greatest pleasures I have ever experienced, and that includes Summer Solstice at the Gilded Rose in Relshaz. A sturdy, pink-faced girl with long brown hair, maybe ten years my junior, found me dry clothes and while I'd have preferred breeches, thick woollen stockings and four petticoats went a long way to keeping out the chill. I shrugged into an over-large shirt and bodice and wrapped myself securely in a serviceable shawl.

'Where to now?' I could not stop myself yawning now the wakefulness of fear was deserting me. I glanced longingly at the feather-bedded bunk.

'I think you'd better see Planir,' my benefactress said apologetically. 'He did ask to meet you.'

'Are you a wizard?' I asked curiously; she looked as if she should still be in a schoolroom somewhere in the Lescari backwoods her accent betrayed.

'Not yet.' She blushed even more pinkly. 'But I'm going to be.'

I suppose I would have got excited about something like that at her age, but then I'd been busy trying to keep alive long enough to prove to my mother that I didn't really need her.

'Lead on, then,' I said with the limited enthusiasm that was all I could muster. 'Sorry, I didn't catch your name.'

'It's Allin.' She led me through a maze of ladders and wooden walls to a large cabin where five figures were bent over a table as others hovered attentively around. Two raised their heads as we entered, and one came forward, offering me his hand.

'I'm Planir. I'm so glad to meet you.'

The Archmage was not overly tall, and was dark-haired and lithe in build with angular features softened by warm grey eyes and an engaging smile. His voice was soft with the lilting accents of his Gidestan youth and had an intimate quality that rippled through me. I was suddenly aware of my matted hair and the fact that I must look like an unmade bed. He could have- been anywhere from forty years of age to sixty; fine lines fanned out from his eyes and his hair was receding but I'd bet he could talk any woman he wanted inside his bed-curtains. What he didn't look like, to my mind, was an Archmage.

I forced my mind back to business. 'We couldn't save Geris but I found some of his work. It might help.'

'Usara?' Planir beckoned with a commanding hand.

A thin wizard in brown came forward and took the crumpled parchments eagerly.

'Where exactly—'

One of the other mages interrupted him abruptly.

'Planir, we need you.'

They both turned back to the table and, since no one said otherwise, I followed. An image was now floating above the rough wood. I gasped. If I had thought Shiv and Harna's duck pond was good, it was a child's drawing in the sand compared to this. I recognised the islands of the Elietimm but this was no mere map; perfect in every detail, I saw every beach, village and fortification. I shivered as I spied tiny figures frozen in the image; was this what it was like to be a god?

'Now, if you can break that fissure, Kalion can bring up the molten rock and I'll work on the glacier.'

The wizard doing the talking was a robust-looking woman in the clothes of a Caladhrian farmwife, with the slack belly and gappy teeth of someone who's done more than her fair share of child-bearing. For all that, her eyes were keen and her face commanding as she peered down at the tiny ice-clad landscape in front of her.

Planir was leaning over and frowning as he studied the crater of the fire-mountain.

'Usara, can you open up that channel for me?' Amber light crawled over the image and Usara nodded confidently.

I stood silently as the mages bent over the miniature world they had created and worked ruin for the Elietimm. The side of the mountain quivered under Planir's magelight and gradually began to slip aside in a series of jerks. The wizard called Kalion cleared his throat and cracked his knuckles to send brief flashes of red down into the opening. Brilliant white fire emerged, the boiling rock cooling to red as it trickled down the mountainside. Sparse vegetation flared to ashes as the fire crept towards an unknowing hamlet.

'Usara, can you thin this out a bit?' Kalion murmured. Sweat beaded his forehead as he concentrated and he wiped it absently away on a rich velvet gown that would have looked more at home on a Lescari money-lender.

'Not so fast,' the woman commanded. She was doing something to a wall of ice further round the mountain where Planir was opening another channel in the rock. I watched as an orange glow surged under the ice and shuddered at the thought of so much water let loose to wash away the meagre settlements of the hapless peasants. I hoped some of their carefully hoarded stores would survive; the Elietimm were facing a bleak and hungry season.

I jumped when the door behind me opened. The man called Casuel looked in hesitantly, evidently relieved when he saw me.

'It's Livak, isn't it?' he enquired in low tones.

'Who wants to know?' I asked cautiously, not keen to answer a summons from Darni, for example.

'I need to hear about your experiences. Come with me, please. I want to prepare a report for the Council, to save time.' He shot an anxious glance at the wizards huddled over their enchantments but they were oblivious to our presence by now.

I drew a reluctant breath; I wasn't about to start taking orders from another wizard, let alone a cloak-carrier like this one. On the other hand, I didn't have the energy for a row.

'Can't it wait? It's not as if I'm going anywhere!'

He pursed a mean mouth in my direction; I stared back at him, expressionless.

'I suppose so,' he said finally with ill grace. 'I'll see you after I've spoken with Shivvalan.'

'Casuel!' The fat wizard called Kalion looked up. 'Send Allin in here, will you? I'd like her to see how this is done.'

Casuel sketched a bow. 'Of course, Hearth-Master.' He offered me a thin hand and I shook it briefly. 'I'll see you later.'

'Not if I see you first, you charmless lout,' I said silently to myself, pushing past him.

I followed my nose and my instincts to the galley; I soon found a quiet corner on deck to eat the bread and meat I'd scrounged from the agreeable ship's cook.

'I was starting to wonder what they'd done with you.' Ryshad appeared round a barrel and sat down next to me. I passed him a hunk of bread.

'I met Planir but he was rather busy. They're trying to sink those islands, from what I could see.'

Ryshad nodded as he chewed hungrily. He passed me a lidded pewter flagon of ale and I drank deeply before remembering I don't really like beer.

'It looks like everyone's got things to do except for us, then?'

'Oh, I think we've done enough for a while, don't you?'

I managed a half-smile to answer Ryshad's rather strained grin.

'Did anyone say where we're going?'

'This ship's headed for Hadrumal but I reckon they'll have to make landfall somewhere before that, Tormalin probably. They can put me off there,' he said firmly.

'You're going home?' I was oddly reluctant to face the prospect of losing Ryshad. 'I thought we would all be kept in Hadrumal till they'd wrung every last detail out of us.'

'That could take half a season. No, I don't take orders from wizards, even Archmages. My first duty's to make my report to Messire D'Olbriot; his scribes can take a copy for Planir.' Ryshad grimaced and reclaimed the ale. 'After that, I must go and tell Ait's family how he died.'

We sat in silence for some moments.

'How about you?' Ryshad asked after a while. 'I'd like to show you Zyoutessela and I'm sure Messire D'Olbriot will want to reward you.'

'For what?' I looked at him curiously and he pointed to my hands.

'These are his rings, the ones with the flame-tree on the crest.' He took my hand and rolled the gold bands gently round my fingers. 'These are worth a prince's hire.'

I laughed as I slipped the rings free and handed them over. 'Who'd have thought it? I don't know, Rysh, I've a life to get back to as well, you know. Halice will be thinking I've dropped off the end of the world, and we were supposed to meet some other friends at Col. The best place for me to head for would be Relshaz. Perhaps the wizards could take me to the Spice Coast, I could go up the Pepper Road.' I yawned, despite the stimulating chill of the wind. 'I certainly don't want to go to Hadrumal, I'm not spending the winter with wizards and scholars turning my mind inside out. They can pay me the money they owe me and I reckon I'll be adding a percentage for undue risk but, beyond that, there's nothing for me there.'

We sat in silence again for a little while.

'I have to say I don't like leaving a job half done, though,' I admitted. 'This isn't over, is it?'

'No, I don't suppose it is, but my mother always used to say the only thing in life with no loose ends is a new tapestry.' Ryshad sighed. 'I know what you mean, I feel the same, but I've other loyalties to meet.'

I reached out and held on to Rysh's hand; we sat there, wondering what to do for the best. A long, low rumble drifted over the ocean towards us and we looked at each other, eyes wide and questioning.

'Shiv!' I waved a hand as he went past, attention elsewhere.

'I didn't expect to see you on your feet!' Ryshad offered him the ale with a broad grin of relief.

Shiv joined us in our sheltered nook and rubbed at his thickly bandaged arm.

'One of those scholars has been looking into the healing magic they use in Solura. It seems that's aetheric as well. Whatever, it's put me back together so I'm not arguing.'

I studied his face; his colour was better but he still looked drawn and strained and Ryshad wasn't much prettier. I wondered what I'd find next time I chanced on a mirror.

'We were just wondering what to do next. Any ideas?'

Shiv shook his head wearily. 'I'm needed back in Hadrumal. Piecing together the whole story of our little adventure is going to take a lot of work. The Council will have a lot to discuss and then they'll have to decide what action to take. Some will think we should deal with this all ourselves, another faction will argue for alliance with Tormalin, and there'll be every shade of opinion in between. Some will favour blowing the Elietimm islands out of the ocean, others will want to wait and see and hope they'll just go away. Planir will have his work cut out getting a decision this side of Spring Equinox.'

He heaved a great sigh. 'Still, that's his problem. I just want to go home to Pered and lock the door till the turn of the year.'

That was a more cheerful prospect. 'Will we be home for Solstice? I've lost count of the days.'

Shiv smiled. 'Yes — what shall we do to celebrate? How about a trip to one of the gaming-houses in Relshaz?'

I was about to laugh but the wizard called Casuel popped up through a hatch, looking all ways like a startled rabbit.

'Shivvalan, there you are! Quickly, we need your help.'

Several other wizards appeared and we rose to our feet. I watched, open-mouthed, as a massive wave came sweeping across the ocean at us. Enchantment wove a shining emerald curtain around the ship; we rode the huge swell like a floating seabird and my heart stopped trying to hammer its way through my ribs. The wizards all watched for a moment then returned to whatever they had been doing, their matter-of-fact attitudes taking my breath away.

'You really should keep yourself ready for the Archmage's instructions, Shivvalan,' Casuel reprimanded in a lofty tone which would have had me planning to stitch a fish into his mattress if I'd had to spend any time with him.

'You forget, Gas, I'm Otrick's pupil.' Shiv gave Casuel a charming smile which seemed to annoy him out of all proportion. He snorted but noticed Usara emerging on deck and went scurrying off to hover attentively round him. Shiv shook his head and I caught him flicking his fingers after Casuel in that peculiarly Caladhrian gesture of disdain as we sat ourselves down again.

'You two don't get on, I take it?' Ryshad had watched this little exchange with amusement.

'No, we don't.' Shiv shook his head with a rueful smile and reached for the ale. 'Well, he's not the most likeable type in the world, but it is partly my fault.'

Shiv's faint air of shame was intriguing. 'How so?' I asked.

Shiv shrugged for a long moment before deciding to answer. 'It was a couple of years back, at Solstice. I'd had a bit too much to drink and I had one of those ideas which seem so good until you sober up.'

Ryshad and I both agreed mock-solemnly and Shiv laughed.

'The thing is, no one had ever seen Cas with a girl, he's always been very reserved and it occurred to me that he might be — er — of my persuasion. I'd happened to hear his family are pretty Rationalist in their thinking and you know what they're like—'

'If nature intended men to lay with men, why have women at all and so on and so forth.' Ryshad nodded.

I gaped at Shiv. 'You made a pass at him?'

'No I did not!' Shiv retorted indignantly. 'Pered and I don't stray. All I did was offer to introduce him to a friend of Pered's who was staying with us for the festival…'

'But what's-his-name took this as a calculated slur on his manhood?' Ryshad hazarded a guess, grinning broadly.

'He took a swing at me!' Shiv admitted ruefully. 'He missed — but I didn't and, what with one thing and another, it all got a bit out of hand.'

I laughed and shook my head. 'You idiot!'

'Look!' Ryshad pointed back in the direction of the distant islands. An ash-filled plume of smoke was climbing high into the uppermost skies. The sight dragged us brutally back to the present.

'I'd better go,' Shiv muttered and slipped away.

'I'd say Planir and the others have given Ice-man something to keep him busy for a while,' I joked shakily.

Ryshad nodded, his expression strained. 'It won't stop him though. I reckon Messire D'Olbriot will have the look-outs watching for black ships on the Spring Equinox winds.'

I shivered. When Ryshad opened his arms to me, I leaned into his embrace. I rested my face on the warm, dry wool of his jerkin and shut my eyes, relaxing for the first time since before Inglis. He tightened his arms around me, and buried his face in my hair with a long breath. It was the most natural thing in the world to raise my face to his kiss and then we simply sat there, taking what comfort we could from each other as the ship soared over the seas towards home.