The Dawning of Power

Prologue

Fields of aquatic vegetation shimmered under clear, blue waters, patches of white sand standing out in bold contrast. The Stealthy Shark sliced through calm seas as silent as her name would imply. Standing at the bow, Chase and Fasha watched Istra's eye set the skies afire, and neither dared give voice to their thoughts.

The longer Catrin had been gone, the less Chase liked her plan. Brother Vaughn had been true to his word and, in getting a message to Fasha, had done more than his share to help Chase achieve his goal, but that goal still seemed unattainable. The southern shores of the Greatland stretched on endlessly, and unlike on maps, there were no markings to show where Faulk ended and the Westland began.

"The southern coast of the Westland is less inhabited than that of Faulk," Fasha said. "There are places we can wait for her."

Chase just nodded, silent, unable to maintain much hope. The Greatland was so vast, a person could easily disappear into it, and he feared Catrin and Benjin would do just that.

During their journey, skirting the coastline, they had stopped at small and hidden docks along the way, getting news and supplies. Reports were clear. The Statue of Terhilian found in southern Faulk had been moved to Adderhold by barge, and more recently, another had been found in the Westland. Catrin would have to go to Adderhold. And if she survived that, would she go next to the Westland? Indecision gnawed at Chase. Should he stay with the original plan when his gut told him to go find her? He weighed every possibility in his mind as the coastline slid by.

News of revolts and unrest throughout the Greatland made him wonder if Catrin would ever even get within sight of the statue. It seemed unlikely. Trying to be strong, he committed himself to waiting, just as Catrin had asked him to do. Any other course was just too risky.

In an instant, though, the world changed. A blinding flash of green light backlit the coast, and moments later, a thunderous blast rocked the ship, followed by low, rumbling echoes in the distance.

"May the gods be gentle," Fasha said, her hand over her mouth. Chase swayed on his feet and braced himself on the railing.

"That came from the Westland, didn't it? It was over that way," Chase said, motioning ahead and to the left of their position.

"It did."

"Then the one Catrin set out to destroy?" he asked.

"Will be next."

"I need to get to Adderhold."

Scowling fiercely, Fasha concentrated, and there was a long pause before she nodded firmly and spoke, "I will take you to Madra. Perhaps her wisdom will show us a way."