"Hoy now," came a slurred cry, and Alos stumbled topside from the cabin below. "What's all this-?"

"Stand by to jibe larboard a full twenty-eight points," called Egil. "Alos, 'ware the boom!"

"What?" cried Alos, lurching out from the cabin door as the ship sped through the roaring blackness, death to the left and right, her bow crashing, waves smashing, spume flying, water drenching all.

Without turning loose of her line, Aiko kicked the old man's legs out from under him, and just as Alos slammed down to the deck-

"Now, Egil! Now!" shouted Arin.

"Jibing now!" called Egil, haling hard on the tiller.

Zzzzz… Again loose ropes buzzed against cleats as strong hands haled hard on the opposite lines. 'Round came the bow of the Brise, a tall rock to the larboard looming but an arm's span away. Wham! the boom slammed across from port to starboard as the ship heeled over and the stern swung through the wind and the Brise came to a larboard beam reach.

Water whelmed into stone and leapt into air as the sloop sped through and onward, while Arin shifted to the starboard rail, stepping over floundering Alos to do so. She leaned out and peered to the fore, where an oncoming Rover dhow loomed.

"Egil!" she screamed. "Trim to starboard now!"

Even as Egil hauled the tiller hard over, a great darkness hulked on the left and-rrrnnnkkk…-the hull ground against wood, the speeding ship shuddering as the dhow juddered the length of its side, Alos shrieking in fear as the surging water lifted both sloop and dhow, the Brise to bang and thud larboard to larboard along the hull of the Rover craft. And in the wind-shadow of the dhow the sloop's sails suddenly fell slack though she yet had momentum, but just as suddenly they were clear of the Rover and the sails snapped taut again, hurling the Brise toward disaster beyond.

"Larboard, larboard," cried Arin above the roar of the hammering waves and above Alos's screams. Again Egil hauled on the tiller, and the Brise responded, and moments later Arin called out, "Now swing starboard a point and square up."

As the ship flew along its course through fangs and thunder and spray, they could hear loud shouts aft from the scudding dhow, but what the Rovers cried out, none aboard the sloop knew.

"Steady as she goes," called Arin, as whimpering Alos scrambled on hands and knees back into the cabin.

Past her fangs, past her rocks, past her booming surf, out from the mouth of the serpent they sailed, the Brise battered but seaworthy still. And as they came into clear water at last, dawn broke on the horizon east.

"Bend on all sail but the square," commanded Egil. "The Rover likely will come after us."

As the crew restored the jib and gaff topsails and the fore staysail, Arin said, "Dost thou think we can outrun them, chier?”

Egil looked aft, but the mouth of the cove was now beyond sight 'round a shoulder of land behind. "I know not, love, yet we must try."

In the dawn light the captain of the dhow swung his ship into the cove, then brought her about through the eye of the wind, heading her back toward the Serpent's Fangs to pursue the intruder. He glanced at the rocks and then at the growing light of day, and set aside the potion that briefly allowed him to see by starlight alone. He would not need it for this pass. Besides, he did not wish to risk losing his sight altogether.

Once more he commanded his grumbling crew to set the sails for the run, then true northeast he tacked, his ship picking up speed as he trimmed for the striated rock.

Just as the dhow entered the fangs, something hideous and large and skrawing came swooping from the sky. Men shrieked in fear and cowed down against the deck, and some leapt overboard. And with her crew in panic, the dhow veered and crashed in among the rocks, where the waves battered and bashed her to wreckage against the Serpent's Fangs.

In moments she sank from sight.

And on great dark wings the monstrous thing flapped away into the dawn sky above.

CHAPTER 6 7

“I tell you, Alos, old man, if she hadn't swept your feet out from under you, you would be dead, bashed overboard by the swinging boom to drown among the rocks."

Alos glared at Delon, then stuck his nose in the air and sniffed loudly. "Nevertheless, she owes me an apology."

"Ha!" snapped Ferret. "Apology, my left foot! Instead, you owe her a big thanks for saving your worthless hide."

"Thanks for nearly breaking my elbow?" Alos ruefully and belatedly rubbed his left arm. "And another thing: I'm not worthless. There's no better helmsman aboard."

"Yes, but for how long?" said Delon. "You declared in Sarain that you'd leave us for good once we got free of the cove. Well, now we're free."

Alos glared at the bard. "I'm going to leave you when… when"-Alos paused, something deep in his memory nagging at his thoughts, as of a whisper commanding. Alos shook his head, then said, "Unlike before, I'll not desert my shipmates in their time of need."

Delon glanced at Ferret, then back to Alos. "Are you earnest?"

"Of course I am," snapped Alos.

"Then you'll remain until we get the treasure?" asked Ferret.

Delon cocked an eyebrow at his love. "The time of need will not be past until the Dragonstone is safely delivered to the Mages."

Ferret looked out to sea and did not reply, and nought but indigo waters met her gaze.

Kistan lay beyond the horizon some thirty nautical miles to the west, the Brise having sailed directly east and away from the isle for a quarter of a day before turning to run due north on a beam reach. It was now midafternoon, and Alos, Delon, and Ferret crewed, while Egil and Arin and Aiko and Burel slept below. Their plan was to stay well out to sea and away from the isle and its shipping lanes and run parallel to the eastern marge, hoping to avoid any Rovers, Rovers who ordinarily lurked in the straits far to the north and south and running to the west. Once the Brise was free of Kistan some six hundred miles hence, they would head her across the strait, aiming for the coastal waters along the shores of Vancha. From there they would sail to the Weston Ocean, and around Gelen to the Northern Sea, and thence unto the Boreal, for it was on the bounds of those waters where lay their goal: Dragons' Roost. Their journey would cover nearly nine thousand miles altogether, though tacking and hauling as they must, it would be nearly half again as far. There was, of course, a shorter route, one through the channel 'tween Gelen and Jute, but given what Aiko had done to Queen Gudrun the Comely, the waters near Jute were too hostile to fare, and so they avoided that risk by choosing the longer route. And given fair winds and tolerable seas, they would come to Dragons' Roost sometime in the month of May.

It was not until the change of shifts at the dawn of the following day that they began to consider how they would obtain the Dragonstone.

"Here is what we know," said Arin. "The stone is in a cavern in a silver chest chained to rock by a pool."

"The Kraken Pool," appended Egil.

"Do you suppose that means the treasure is guarded by a Kraken?" asked Ferret.

Egil shrugged. "It would be one Hel of a warder."

"Better than a dog," said Delon, laughing.

"This is no laughing matter," said Aiko, her tone flat.

Delon raised his hands in surrender, then said, "Indeed not. Besides, the 'dog' is on the ledge, guarding the door."

"Dog?"

"Dragon."

Aiko shook her head and sighed.

"There is another door," said Ferret. "The one underwater."

"But the scroll said you can't swim against the current, powered as it is by the Great Maelstrom," said Egil.