We are back on course, at least?” Chieftess Mreegan asked as she walked across the main deck.
“Yes, Chieftess,” Kateen said, scurrying along beside her. “My shadir found the fleet and led us to them.”
Chieftess Mreegan sneered. “I am glad to hear that some shadir are loyal.”
Grayson peeked under the edge of the dinghy he was hiding beneath. It was one of three that sat upside down on the main deck, and he liked the view it gave him when he wanted to spy. When the fleet had sailed away from the Armanian island, the Vespara, which had been hiding on the other side of the lagoon, had gotten left behind. Grayson knew from eavesdropping that the Seffynaw was leading the fleet, and it relieved him to know they had caught up again.
“How is our water?” Chieftess Mreegan asked.
“We are on our last four barrels. Torol’s water makers take three days to fill half a barrel, so they are not helping quickly enough to make a difference.”
The Chieftess grunted. “And how much food is left?”
“Two crates. But some of the workers have been fishing and—”
“Two?” the Chieftess shrieked. “Have you been feasting without me?”
“I swear I have not, Chieftess. None of us have.”
“Lies!” Chieftess Mreegan said. “Everyone lies to me. Even my own shadir. She tells me Charlon still lives when I know she must have been hanged by now. Yet Magon stays away. Why is she disloyal to me after so many years together?”
No one dared answer. Grayson couldn’t blame them. The Chieftess’s swinging moods scared him. The longer they were at sea, the crazier she became. No answer would make the woman feel better. Nothing ever did.
Grayson had done plenty of snooping since he had dubbed himself spy and had learned a lot about this ship. The Magonians had stolen it from Sarikar, but they hadn’t loaded many supplies. They also hadn’t stocked up at the island. Chieftess Mreegan had been too afraid to get close, worried they might be seen by a powerful mantic who could attack. Grayson didn’t think there were any other mantics besides Priestess Jazlyn. He wondered who was more powerful: Chieftess Mreegan or Priestess Jazlyn?
He also wondered why the fleet hadn’t decided to live on the island. From the sounds of things, that had been the original plan. So what was the plan now? Chieftess Mreegan didn’t know, and it was making her crazier than usual.
The Magonians had no real captain aboard. Besides the crew Nuel had bought from The Wanderer, the original crew had been stolen off the docks in Brixmead and compelled to obey. A man called Krola had been put in charge, and while he pretended to be the captain, he knew none of the right things to say about sails and ways to turn the whipstaff.
The Magonians didn’t have very many people on board. Grayson had counted just over two hundred one day when Chieftess Mreegan had held a ceremony on the main deck. And from his time on the Baretam, he knew this ship could carry three times that many.
“Chieftess!” Roya ran across the deck from the helm. She was the meanest of all the women and terrified Grayson. “My shadir brings news of Charlon.”
“Speak,” the Chieftess said.
“As you predicted, she was discovered aboard the Seffynaw. Magon helped her escape to a nearby ship.”
Chieftess Mreegan’s brow sank over her icy gray eyes. “Which ship?”
“My shadir did not know,” Roya said. “That was all Magon told him.”
Chieftess Mreegan screamed as if someone had poured hot coals down the back of her kasah. She started yelling the mantic language. A wave of her hand and Roya was thrown through the air, right over the side of the ship. Grayson heard her scream, heard the splash. The Magonians scattered. It was their best defense when the Chieftess threw a tantrum, which lately she did almost daily.
Kateen ran toward Grayson’s hiding place under the dinghy. He scooted back from the edge. Footsteps pounded to a halt outside, and the woman dropped to her knees.
The first maiden fell onto her stomach and rolled under the dinghy. She sat up and scrambled into the middle between the two benches, breathing hard and muttering. Her eyes met Grayson’s. For a moment the two simply stared at each other. Grayson thought about pushing into the Veil to hide, but then she would know he had magic. He was more afraid of anyone knowing about that than he was of getting caught.
Kateen drew her finger across her lips, and he nodded, relieved that she had not chosen to send him out to face the Chieftess.
A silent moment passed where they both watched each other and listened. No more screaming came from the deck. Perhaps the madness had ended.
Suddenly the dinghy flew up into the air like a straw hat lifted by a gust of wind. Grayson crouched down. Kateen screamed. The dinghy spun through the air and crashed in the center of the main deck, behind where Chieftess Mreegan stood over them, glaring down. The dinghy continued to tumble, sides splintering with each rotation. It came to rest right side up, rocking on its keel.
The wind blew Chieftess Mreegan’s hair back from her face: terrible and fierce with eyes cold and burning. Behind Grayson, Kateen stood, lifted her hands as if to defend herself, but she could not do magic like the Chieftess. The maidens required mats and bowls to cast their spells. The Chieftess only need speak.
Stuck in the middle, Grayson panicked. Without meaning to, he used his power and pushed into the Veil.
He saw the exact moment when their hate-filled eyes softened in surprise, looked away from each other, and focused on him.
Grayson wished he were underneath one of the other dinghies on the main deck.
Then, suddenly, he was.
He panted over his fear, wondering how he’d done it, wondering if the women had seen him move. He fell to his belly and peeked out from under the dinghy. The women were standing a few paces away, twisting around in confusion.
“Did you see that?” Chieftess Mreegan asked.
Kateen nodded. “The boy is a mantic.”
They knew.
“Who would have taught a boy such things?” Chieftess Mreegan asked.
A racket across the deck turned their heads. Grappling hooks sailed over the side of the ship, hooked tight to the railing. Men clambered up and over the sides, swords in their hands and leering grins on their faces.
“Pirates!” Torol yelled from the quarterdeck.
Chieftess Mreegan and Kateen ran toward the invaders, who were dressed in black and carried swords. Grayson should get out from under the dinghy, run to the foredeck. Instead, like he had moments ago, he wished he were there.
And he somehow traveled to the foredeck instantly.
He laughed out loud, tickled by this new discovery. He had not known he had such an ability. He wanted to try it again, but shouts on the main deck reminded him of the invaders. He looked back to the fray, able to watch from the foredeck and stay out of danger.
A short battle ensued. The pirates were not prepared to fight against magic. Probably had no idea what kind of people were on this ship. The women used their magic to disarm the pirates and throw them overboard one by one. Once the deck was clear, Chieftess Mreegan turned things around.
“Form a crew to board that ship, Kateen. I want all of their food.”
As the Chieftess turned to pirating, Grayson stayed on the foredeck, out of the way. From this distance he saw the name of the pirate ship: Dartsea. It was a midsize boat with a small crew for its size. How many ships had the Dartsea pirates attacked? Was this their first time losing?
In the end the Magonians left the Dartsea behind with the remaining pirates bound together on the main deck. Chieftess Mreegan let them live, hoping they would tell their pirate friends to beware of the Vespara.
Alone for hours on the foredeck Grayson practiced his new ability of popping from one place to another by way of the Veil. The more he did it, the more he wondered how far he might be able to go. Could he go from the Vespara to the Seffynaw? Dare he risk it?
He decided he should first try to pop from one end of the ship to the other. He concentrated his thoughts on the upside-down dinghy stored on the port side of the stern deck, then moved. But when he exited the Veil, he wasn’t under a dinghy. He was standing in one that was hanging from the boat fall! The craft rocked under his movement. He sat down, hoping that would make the boat still.
Why had he come out here? Was this the same boat that was usually on the deck? He stood carefully and saw that the deck was empty where the dinghy usually lay upside down.
He must have gone to the dinghy he knew, not the place it had been. Did that mean he couldn’t pop to places he’d never been?
On a hunch he concentrated on Torol’s cabin and moved again.
He exited the Veil in the dark corridor outside Torol’s cabin. Grayson had never been inside, so apparently this was the closest he could come.
He sighed. He had never been aboard the Seffynaw. Had only seen it from the outside. He dare not try and pop there, for he might end up in the sea outside the great ship. He would have to be careful with this new ability. Perhaps more practice would reveal a way to escape.
Grayson popped back up to the foredeck, but the smell of food lured him to the underside of a table on the main deck.
The mantics had purged their poison and were healthy again. All of the Chieftess’s important servants were present. Even Roya had somehow gotten out of the sea and back on board. Grayson pushed out of the Veil long enough to reach up and grab a piece of flatbread.
“Pirating is the answer,” Chieftess Mreegan told her followers. “It’s the best way to survive this journey. We will take what we need when we need it. And we will follow the Armanian flagship. They will lead us to land. There we will set up camp and make a new plan to subdue them. Then I will find Charlon and make her pay for deserting me.”
“You are wise, Chieftess,” Kateen said.
“For now, let us find that mantic boy. Pass around a bottle of root juice, Roya, and set your shadirs searching.”
Grayson popped back through the Veil to the foredeck to hide.