Chapter 21:

The Sea of Stars

*

When Keolah’s group arrived at the camp at the edge of the Witch­­wood, Nar­cella was waiting for them, having made some­thing of a make­shift nest in their cart.

“Hey, Nar­cella,” Keolah said. “Is Silver coming?”

<Yes,> Nar­cella tepped. <He and Sedder should be along shortly.>

“We’ll wait, then,” Keolah said.

They set up camp to wait casually. It took a few more days for Silver and Sedder to come strolling along the road from Scalyr, casually, as if this were some­thing they did every day. Some other travelers passed by in the interim, and even shared their camp once, but no one thought them sim­ply camping along the road near the Witch­­wood was any­thing un­usual, either.

“So,” Haw­thorne said, looking over to the two of them. “Did you?”

“What?” Sedder won­dered, looking at her in puzzlement.

“Did you? Did you?”

“Did we what?” Sedder asked.

“You know,” Haw­thorne said, making an ob­scene gesture.

Sedder groaned and flushed. “Damn it, Haw­thorne.”

Silver cleared his throat.

“You totally did, didn’t you,” Haw­thorne said, prac­tically bouncing.

Keolah put her face in her palm. “Right, what­ever they did or didn’t do is really not any of our business. Shall we head into the Witch­­wood and meet back up with the others, and make sure they haven’t driven one an­other mad inside there while we were off dealing with our various inter­per­sonal issues?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Haw­thorne said. “Maybe if we had a way to magically shrink Nar­cella down to the size of a parrot, she could come with us too. It’s terrible leaving her out of this all.”

<I assure you, I am per­fectly fine,> Nar­cella tepped with a touch of amusement. <I have no need of being the size of a parrot.>

Following Keolah’s lead, the group headed back into the Witch­­wood. Keolah wished that she could find a quicker way to traverse the forest, al­though it was getting easier each time as she was getting some prac­tice at following the waves of mana into the heart of the forest. It was still getting a little tedious going the long way through each time. But per­haps once they got the Nexus ac­tive and were able to readily visit other worlds with it, it would seem like less of a prob­lem.

When they arrived back in the pocket-world, it was plainly obvious that Amanda and Yennik had been busy. A veritable city had sprung up amongst the spokes of the wheel, admittedly one that no one was really living in yet. Keolah rather preferred elven living wood ­con­struction to Yennik’s stout stone, though, but she wasn’t about to argue with it.

“There you are,” Calto said, app­roaching them. “Yennik and Amanda are holed up in the School of Thought at the moment. How’d things go?”

“Well as can be ex­pected,” Keolah said. “School of Thought?”

Calto nodded. “That’s what we decided to call the lib­rary. Or school, app­ar­ently. We’ve been working on re­con­structing some of the old rituals in the books, and they’re just fascinating.”

“This could turn into a veritable home of wizards at this rate,” Keolah said.

“Well, that’s a better name for it than just ‘the pocket-world’,” Haw­thorne said. “Especially if it turns out that this isn’t the only pocket-world.”

“Home of Wizards?” Keolah said. “Torn Elkandu?”

“I like it,” Calto said.

“We could really make a home for our­selves here, even if it takes us ages to get the Nexus working,” Keolah said.

“Damned well no door-to-door sales­people are going to be bothering us here,” Haw­thorne commented.

“No one will ever be likely to siege it,” Sedder added.

“We do need to find a way to get Nar­cella in here,” Silver said.

Keolah headed over to the newly-dubbed School of Thought, where Yennik and Amanda were hard at work. For all that he’d tried to get away from them and claim he knew nothing of ancient Astanic, he was cer­tainly putting in a good effort. She would cer­tainly have ­imag­ined that the rewards would far exceed the demands.

“How’s it going?” Keolah asked.

“You wouldn’t believe some of the things we’ve un­covered,” Yennik said. “I don’t under­stand why some of these things were for­gotten, un­less it were delib­erately.”

“Like what?” Keolah asked.

“We’ve been working on a book on Time Magic,” Yennik said. “This stuff is unbelievable.”

“You mean like, hasting and slowing effects, or prophecies?” Keolah asked.

“Time travel!” Yennik exclaimed. “Alternate uni­verses!”

Keolah blinked. “Deliberately lost, per­haps. Will you and Amanda be ready to leave soon?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yennik said. “Anytime. It’s not like we’re making the magical break­throughs of the millennium or any­thing here.”

*

They were more care­ful about what notes they brought with them this time, and left the books them­selves in the safe­ty of the pocket-world, now dubbed Torn Elkandu. There was no way that they were going to risk losing them after all this. Sedder, for his part, did not bring up any­thing regarding Sardill, and did not men­tion any arrange­ments made with him. He had no idea what both Sardill and the party would be so paranoid about, though. Sardill wanted to help them, after all. At least, that’s what it seemed like to him. If Sardill had other plans, then Sedder had not the foggiest idea what he was playing at here.

“You know any in­born Seeker could get in there, too,” Keolah said.

“Well, how many in­born Seekers could there possibly be?” Haw­thorne won­dered.

“I don’t know,” Keolah said.

“Do you think a non-in­born trained Seeker could manage it?” Sedder asked.

“Not a chance,” Keolah said. “It was hard enough for me to manage it, at first.”

Sedder chuckled. “So, are you the best Seeker alive?”

“Well, with­out a frame­work for com­parison, I really couldn’t say that,” Keolah said. “However, given the fact that we found no evidence of people having been in or near Torn Elkandu at any point in the recent past to have left any traces behind, I think it’s a fair assump­tion that no one is likely to manage it in the time it takes us to get to Albrynnia and back. I doubt any­one is even try­ing.”

“Captain Cooper might have shown other people the notes he took from us,” Sedder pointed out.

“Bah, forget Billy,” Haw­thorne said. “I bet any­one he told about it already got lost and died in the Witch­­wood or drove them­selves mad wandering around.”

Sedder looked back toward the skull cave. “I still think we ought to leave some sort of additional defenses behind.”

“What could we possibly add to what’s already there?” Haw­thorne won­dered.

“Wards, illusions, some­thing?” Sedder said. “Maybe some sort of traps?”

“Anything we put might just make it easier to get to rather than harder,” Keolah said.

“I guess that’s true,” Sedder said.

He’d been discreetly prac­ticing with the tech­niques Sardill had shown him, but he was still a long way off from tricking even the weakest Seeker, never mind an in­born one like Keolah. Maybe they were right and it was best to just leave the Witch­­wood’s natural defenses alone. An in­born Seeker capable of navigating the forest would only find any enchant­ments in it to be a beacon that could draw them in.

They set off out of the Witch­­wood and headed south along the main road to Fehn­darlai, leaving behind the rel­atively temperate climate of the Witch­­wood and greeting the jungles of Hanna­derres.

“It’s hot as a demon’s balls out here,” Yennik muttered. “And just as humid.”

This is what’s normal for the area,” Delven said. “It’s the Witch­­wood that’s un­usually cold.”

“I’m not used to this climate any­more, myself,” Kithere said. “Let me just lower the temp­erature a few degrees for you there.”

Kithere raised her hands, and a sphere of chill air surrounded her and Yennik, brushing lightly against the rest of them.

“Hey, I can handle the heat,” Haw­thorne said.

“I know,” Keolah said wryly.

They con­tinued south out of Hanna­derres and into Hlaya. Crossing the moun­tains took them out of the jungle rain and into arid desert. This did nothing to improve Yennik’s dis­pos­ition.

“I’m already starting to miss Torn Elkandu,” Yennik groused.

“Oh, quit your whining,” Haw­thorne said. “You’ve got a Frost Mage protec­ting your poor goblin ass from the sun.”

“Just the heat!” Yennik said. “The sun is still awful.”

Sedder rolled his eyes and blanketed the goblin in shadow. “Happy now?”

“Now I can’t see!” Yennik whined.

The road led them down to the coast, and they turned and headed west to Hrackston. While much of the country was desert, there was at least a thin strip of life along the edge of the coast. When they got to Hrackston, they emerged into the lush Anduana river valley, the greatest center of life in Hlaya.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been back here,” Delven said.

They came down amongst mud brick buildings baked in the sun, and beaten, dusty ground made way for brick streets. Vendors along the sides of the broad streets hawked their wares. The harbor was full of ships of various types, but none of the steam­ships of the north. They headed inside and booked rooms at an inn not too far from the docks. It had been a long walk from the Witch­­wood, and they could all use a rest before getting on an­other ship.

Come morning, some of them went to try to book passage on a ship heading for Albrynnia. It didn’t go quite so well as they’d intended.

“Will no­body in this town take us to Albrynnia?” Keolah won­dered. “I’ve gotten refusals from every­one I’ve spoken to!”

The sea cap­tain spat. “Nope. Not a single one.”

Sedder groaned.

“Can I ask why?” Keolah won­dered. “No one has even offered me an ex­­plan­ation.”

“You really need to ask?” the cap­tain said. “Listen, we’re not going to take you there, and I sug­gest what­ever reason you have for going there, you rethink it.”

“We’re scholars,” Keolah said. “We’re going on an archae­ological ex­pedition to uncover ancient ruins.”

The cap­tain spat again. “Look, if you want to dig up old ruins, I can take you to the Sun­rise Islands. There’s old im­perial outposts out there, too. I’m willing to take you any­where else along the Sea of Stars. But I won’t take you to Albrynnia.”

“You haven’t actually told me why,” Keolah pressed.

“What tree have you been living in that you haven’t heard about the monsters?” the cap­tain won­dered. “The land is overrun by monsters.”

“The whole con­tinent?” Keolah asked.

“The whole con­tinent,” the cap­tain insisted. “I’m not going to dock there.”

“Could you, maybe, just get us close and drop us into a boat so we can row the rest of the way there?” Keolah sug­gested.

“I’m not even willing to get in sight of the place,” the cap­tain rep­lied. “They say there’s monsters in the waters around Albrynnia, too. You’d have to be crazy to want to sail there.”

Keolah sighed. “I suppose I’ll just have to find a crazy ship cap­tain, then.” She turned to the others. “Is the Care­ful still in Scalyr?”

Calto gave a smug grin. “It should be.”

“We’re not planning on walking all the way back there, are we?” Yennik said. “Why are there no trains on this back­water con­tinent?”

“It won’t be necessary,” Silver said. “Nar­cella can fly me there and I’ll just have Captain Zenk sail around the coast.”

“He won’t listen to you,” Calto said. “I’ll go with you.”

“Then let’s do it,” Silver said. “If the cap­tains of Hrackston will not take us there, we will bring in some­one who will.” He looked dubiously to Calto. “Are you cer­tain that Captain Zenk will take us to Albrynnia?”

“He won’t care about the super­stitions, that’s for sure,” Calto said. “We might need to sweeten the deal, but I’m sure he can be con­vinced.”

“Bribe him with what­ever is necessary,” Keolah said. “Just get him here.”

*

Calto had never ridden on the back of a floka before. It was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating. The sturdy leather harness kept him from slipping off and falling screaming to the ground far below, but that did nothing to block the view, short of sim­ply closing his eyes. And even if he were to do so, he’d still feel the wind all around him and the movements of Nar­cella’s powerful muscles beneath him.

“How are you doing back there?” Silver asked.

“Fine,” Calto shouted back. “Just fine.”

He’d heard of some groups of gnomes try­ing to make zeppelins prac­tical. That hadn’t really been an area he’d ever been ­in­ter­ested in. He liked being out on the water. He wasn’t made for fly­ing. Why had he agreed to this again?

<Judging by how much he’s clinging to me for dear life, I would say that he is not fine,> Nar­cella commented.

Silver chuckled. “Well, just hold in there. We’ll be there soon.”

Nar­cella wasn’t strong enough to carry so much weight in a single jump, over such a long dis­tance. Calto had always ­imag­ined floka as being able to fly for­ever and cross oceans with­out pausing. Maybe some of them could. He didn’t know. As it was, Nar­cella had to stop to rest a few times atop cliffs in the Thorn­delle moun­tains. Calto really wished she’d stopped to rest on flat, solid ground in­stead. Silver didn’t seem par­tic­ularly bothered by spending the night high up in the moun­tains, but Calto, for his part, tried to rest as far away from the sheer drop as he could, and didn’t think he even managed to get to sleep at all regard­less.

When they finally, blessedly arrived in Scalyr, Calto al­most kissed the brick streets. This must be what Sedder felt like sailing. And yet, Sedder did not seem to hesitate getting back on an­other ship when necessary. Calto wasn’t sure that he ever wanted to get back on a floka. Maybe a zeppelin. At least he could stand on a zeppelin. Still, it got him where he was going in a timely manner. He, and doubt­less the others as well, wished that they had sim­ply returned to Scalyr after Torn Elkandu rather than walk across the con­tinent. But they had ex­pected to sim­ply be able to get a ship from Hrackston, and it was much closer to Albrynnia, sim­ply a short trip across the Sea of Stars. Calto felt it strange that fear and super­stition should outweigh the greed of people.

The Care­ful remained docked in the Scalyr harbor, just where they’d left it. Calto had to won­der if Captain Zenk was still doing an­other round of repairs following the crossing of the Miran­darine Ocean. Or if he just didn’t want to set off again with­out his engineer. Calto hon­estly didn’t think the ship could hold together for half a mile with­out him.

“So, you’re back,” Sarom said as Calto app­roached the ship. “Did you finish what you set out to do already?”

“Well, no…” Calto said.

Sarom groaned. “Let me guess. You need my help again.”

Calto smirked. “You love the atten­tion and you know it.”

Sarom grunted. “Well, out with it already, then. What do you need?”

“Passage to Albrynnia,” Calto said.

“You can’t be serious,” Sarom said.

“I’m totally serious,” Calto said.

Sarom groaned again. “If you hadn’t noticed, Albrynnia is on the opposite side of the con­tinent from us. Do you ex­pect us to sail around the Dragon­spires in the east, or the Cliffs of Sky in the west?”

Calto shrugged. “Either would work, I suppose.”

Sarom shook his head in disbelief. “And just why am I going to agree to this?”

“Wealth and glory?” Calto ventured. “Power beyond the comprehension of mere mortals?”

“No,” Sarom said. “I’m going to agree to this because you asked me to. You arrogant, self-im­por­tant, smug engineer.” His words were with­out rancor, and the smirk that crossed his face seemed al­most to be of genuine com­panionship.

“Hey,” Calto said, chuckling. “I’m not smug.”

*

“You know, if you guys want to go back up to Ras­calanse in the mean­time, it’s just a short walk up the valley,” Delven said.

“No,” Kithere, Keolah, and Haw­thorne all said in unison.

Delven held up his hands in surrender. “It was just a thought.”

“Let’s just take the oppor­tunity to organ­ize our notes and go over what Amanda and Yennik learned while we were out visiting our families,” Keolah said. “As won­derfully pro­duc­tive as that was.”

“Can we just… not go back to Ras­calanse?” Haw­thorne said. “Like, ever?”

“I’d thought things hadn’t gone so badly between you and your family,” Kithere said.

“By ‘not badly’, you just mean that my mother is no longer attemp­ting to get me to marry my second cousin,” Haw­thorne said.

“Well, if that’s the best that can be hoped for…” Kithere said.

“You’re lucky,” Haw­thorne said. “At least your family was never try­ing to make you get married against your will.”

“I have three uncles,” Kithere said dryly. “Continuing the family name was never really much of a concern for me or my sis­ter.”

“Well, I guess that would do it,” Haw­thorne said. “And no­body’s try­ing to make you marry one of your uncles’ sons, either.”

“Let’s not even joke about that,” Kithere said, making a face.

“Hey, on the up side, running off freaked my mom out enough that she even for­got to bitch at me,” Haw­thorne said.

“Maybe it’s just as well that we didn’t tell her every­thing that had happened since you left,” Keolah said.

“Yeah, prob­ably,” Haw­thorne said. “She’d prob­ably try to lock me up and I’d have to sneak out of my room through the window in the middle of the night.”

Keolah snickered. “That seems un­likely.” She turned to Yennik. “So, what have we got?”

“We haven’t fully trans­lated every­thing yet,” Yennik said. “But we’ve at least catalogued a general summary of what sort of mat­er­ial each of the books covers. This includes every Talent I’ve heard of, and a few I haven’t. I don’t know if even the League of Wizards worked with some of the things they went to so much trouble to trans­late.”

“Well, we can do things better than the stupid League of Wizards, then,” Haw­thorne said.

“You think we can?” Keolah asked.

Haw­thorne grinned broadly. “I know we can. Because we’re totally awe­some.”

Keolah chuckled. “How can I argue with that confidence?”

“Most would call that ‘arrogance’,” Yennik said.

“The only difference between confidence and arrogance is whether you can actually deliver or not,” Haw­thorne said.

“That’ll remain to be seen,” Yennik said with a smirk. “Some­one’s got to stay real­istic around here. Torn Elkandu is awe­some, granted. These books are amazing, quite true. But who’s to say that the same things that wound up being the downfall of the League of Wizards won’t happen to us? They tore them­selves apart!”

“We won’t,” Haw­thorne said.

“Are we planning to keep this all just between the hand­ful of us?” Yennik said. “That might be possible. Maybe. But if we ex­pand, if we fill up that city, if we recruit, there will be conflict. You get enough people together for any­thing, there will be conflict. Maybe not violent, maybe not destructive, but I won’t count on it not to be. Because not every­one can always agree on every­thing. That’s just the way of things. And we have to be prepared for that.”

“Seems a little premature to worry about it just yet,” Keolah said. “We don’t even know yet when or if we’re going to be able to get the Nexus working.”

“It’s some­thing to think about, though,” Yennik said. “Who do we want to have access to the Nexus? Who are we going to allow into Torn Elkandu?”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,” Keolah said. “I’m not going to start dis­trusting any of you.”

“Suit your­self,” Yennik said.

Keolah hadn’t for­gotten how Sedder and Yennik had, at various points, intended to betray or aban­don her. But she’d prefer to think that she’d made friends of them and earned their trust. Life would be a terrible thing if one could never really trust any­one and had to con­stantly be sus­picious of one’s friends.

*

The Care­ful left the Bay of Scalyr and rounded the Doralisian peninsula to the east, followed the coast past the mouth of the River Hlusina, and made its way around the moun­tains of eastern Hlusinia. The moun­tains were ‘officially’ named the Dawn­spires, but were often called the Dragon­spires. It was said that the dragons had built great cities in the moun­tains, but few elvenoids ever ventured there who might have seen them. Calto gazed off at the moun­tains as they sailed by, squinting to see if he might be able to make out the outlines of any buildings or arch­ways from this dis­tance.

“Pay atten­tion to the engines,” Sarom groused. “This isn’t a sightseeing tour.”

Calto snickered. “I really don’t need to spend every waking moment staring at them. That’s what we have a crew for.”

“And half our crew is currently on the other side of the con­tinent,” Sarom said. “We had to hire on a few random humans just to make up a skeleton crew. You couldn’t have just brought every­one back?”

Calto shrugged. “It would have required walking across Kalor again. They don’t have trains here yet.”

Sarom snorted. “Some enter­prising gnomes ought to get on that, then. Build rail­roads to criss­cross the con­tinent. Get the place up to the fifth millennium already.”

“You’ll hate seeing Albrynnia, then,” Calto said. “I hear they don’t even have roads.”

Sarom groaned. “I can see why no­body wants to go there, then.”

“You’d think some­one would be willing to take money for it, though,” Calto said.

“True, I suppose,” Sarom said, then stared off at a point in the sky. “What… is that?”

Calto peered off in that dir­ec­tion. “I don’t see any­thing.”

“A bird?” Sarom asked.

Calto frowned. “Birds don’t have four legs.”

“Oh Abyss,” Sarom uttered.

With gleaming scales the color of copper, a vast reptilian creature swooped down out of the moun­tains and made for their ship. Gnomes and humans alike panicked.

“Calm down!” Sarom bellowed. “If it really wants to sink us, there’s no good panicking is going to do.”

Calto had never seen a dragon up close before. He’d spotted them fly­ing in the dis­tance in the moun­tains around the Valley of Gal, but none of them had ever come close. Not that he knew of, at any rate. The copper dragon circled the ship close, making tight, agile turns, before coming around and swooping down straight on top of them. The crew, having calmed down slightly at Sarom’s words, proceeded to panic anew, some of them even screaming aloud and cowering. Calto stood staring, frozen in place. What Sarom hadn’t said outright was that if the dragon wanted to attack, there wasn’t much they could do about it. Some of them were mages, sure, most of them had some sort of minor magical training. But none of them were trained battlemages of the sort of caliber that could knock a dragon out of the sky. This wasn’t a damned warship. He braced him­self. At least if the worst happened, he knew he was good enough at Wind and Water Magic that he wouldn’t drown.

Just as the copper dragon’s talons touched down upon the deck, rather than capsizing it, its form warped and twisted in on it­self, and shrank down to the size of a gnome. The dragon had trans­formed into a copper-skinned gnome with gleaming ruby eyes and a tangle of black hair on his head.

“Um,” Calto said, unable to form words.

“You’re… a gnome?” Sarom managed.

The dragon-gnome laughed. “No. But it’s difficult to chat while in the air, and I didn’t want to destroy your fascinating vessel.”

“Well, thank you, then,” Sarom said. “I appreciate your not capsizing my ship. I am Captain Sarom Zenk, and this is my chief engineer, Calto.”

“Um,” Calto said.

“You can call me what­ever you like,” the dragon-gnome said. “A dragon never tells a stranger his true name.”

“Can you please assure my crew that you’re not going to hurt them?” Sarom said. “I believe some of them already may need to change their pants.”

“No offense,” Calto said hurriedly. “Copper?”

“That’ll do,” said the dragon-gnome cheer­fully. “Uncreative, but it’ll do. So! Tell me about your ship. I’ve never seen one like it before.”

“Well, it’s the only one like it on Lezaria, actually,” Sarom said with a touch of pride.

Copper started looking around and poking his nose into every­thing. Calto was half afraid now that the dragon would cap­size them accidentally just through his in­ability to keep his hands off of any­thing. Not a won­der that he’d chosen to take on the form of a gnome! Could dragons choose their form? Were most of them able to shape­shift, or was that just Copper’s own ability? He had no idea how dragons worked. He doubted the dragon had ever even seen a gnome before. Calto ran around the ship after him, try­ing to ex­plain what every­thing was and how it worked, and keep him from doing too much damage. The crew slowly calmed down again as they realized the dragon was just curious and not aggressive.

“Are all dragons like you?” won­dered one of the humans. Tom, Calto thought his name was.

Copper just laughed. “Are all humans like you?”

“Well, no, I guess not,” Tom said.

“Let me tell you, then, dragons might love you, or they might hate you, or any­where in between,” Copper said. “Mostly, they don’t care about you at all, any­more than you care about the per­sonal lives of goats.”

“I’m sure goats are very im­por­tant to people who raise goats for a living,” Calto said.

“Exactly,” Copper said. “And most of the dragons who care about non-dragons are shape­shifting and living among them.”

“Really?” Sarom won­dered.

“You might never even know they’re a dragon,” Copper said. “I bet you’ve known dragons before in your life and never even realized it. We don’t tend to advertise it. We don’t have to. We have nothing to prove.”

“That’s kind of a scary thought,” Sarom said.

“Okay, I’ve seen enough,” Copper said. “Have fun with what­ever it is you’re doing!”

Copper leapt into the air and trans­formed mid-jump, narrowly managing to avoid cap­sizing the ship any­way. Curiosity satisfied, the copper dragon flew back toward land and dis­appeared into the moun­tains.

“Well,” Sarom commented. “That happened.”

“Maybe we should move a bit further out to sea,” Calto said. “And hope no dragons spot us who might be less friendly.”

Sarom nodded tersely. “Make it so.”

As they put some dis­tance between the ship and the coast, some of the humans were muttering about damned shape­shifters being bad luck.

*

The Care­ful sailed into the harbor of Hrackston none too soon for Keolah’s taste. Sure, they’d gotten a lot done in the mean­time, but they were starting to drive one an­other crazy with all the waiting. At least sailing to places felt like they were getting some­where and making progress. Here, they just con­tinued organ­izing their notes, because they didn’t have access to the books them­selves. Not to say that it wasn’t pro­duc­tive, of course. But some of them wished they’d stayed back in Torn Elkandu. Keolah could only guess that, once they got the city really up and running, there would be plenty of people who would just never leave. She couldn’t really en­tirely blame them if that was what they chose to do, though.

Even Sedder didn’t utter a word of com­plaint when they boarded the Care­ful again, though he looked a little sick at the pros­pect. Some nearby sailors over­heard that they were planning on sailing to Albrynnia, and alter­nately made derisive comments about their sanity and gestures to ward off evil while backing away slowly.

“So!” Sarom said. “Everyone ready to go? No other detours or delays or any­one changing their mind about being on this boat?”

The humans Sarom had hired on as ex­tra crew in Scalyr were all getting off in Hrackston, to a man. Not a single one of them wanted to sail to Albrynnia, even on some­one else’s ship. That, of course, left Keolah and com­pany back to handling their jobs again.

“Finally, getting some­thing done again,” Haw­thorne said as she situated her­self at her post. “Although mostly, what we’ve been getting done is walking all over the place.”

“But just think,” Keolah said. “If we can get the Nexus working, we can walk all over the place on other worlds.”

“What if those other worlds have oceans?” Calto said.

Sarom seemed to con­sider that for a long moment. “Might be ­in­ter­esting. I won­der if any­one else has dis­covered steam power yet?”

“Or maybe they’ve dis­covered some­thing amazing and won­derful we haven’t even ­imag­ined yet,” Calto said.

“I just find it funny that all those humans you brought along pussied out,” Haw­thorne said. “Is Albrynnia so damned scary? Seriously?”

“They think so,” Delven pointed out. “If you ­imag­ined you’d get eaten by monsters just for getting within sight of the con­tinent, would you want to go there?”

“Bring them on!” Haw­thorne exclaimed.

“Why did I know you’d say that?” Delven groaned.

For all the doomsaying of the humans of Kalor, the Sea of Stars was calm and peace­ful, at least at first. Out of clear skies, the winds began whipping up as they traveled. The steam­ship didn’t use wind to travel, but if it had sails, they’d not be making any head­way into this. As it was, the prop­eller just kept turning with­out regard for what was going on up in the skies.

“Hah!” Sarom said. “Look at that. We can just keep sailing into the wind.”

“The wind’s picking up, though,” Calto said. “We won’t have the mana to keep the wind barriers up for much longer, if this keeps up.”

“I can supplement it with Zarnith, if need be,” Haw­thorne said.

Calto looked off into the dis­tance, focusing with his magic. “I think we’re sailing into a hurricane.”

“Oh,” Haw­thorne said. “Batten down the hatches!”

“We don’t have hatches to batten down,” Calto said.

“Well, that’s just shoddy gnome design, then,” Haw­thorne said.

Calto rolled his eyes, but didn’t rep­ly, opting to just shout orders at the gnomes in­stead, and resorting to gnomish hand­talk when the wind started howling too much to be readily heard. The wind screens were buckling. Haw­thorne held aloft Zarnith to try to keep them stable so that the building storm didn’t tear apart the ship or pick up the crew and toss them into the water. Inter­twined cyan and magenta mana gushed out to form a shimmering dome over the ship. It didn’t stop the wind, but it at least slowed it down to the point where it didn’t do more than howl and blow small ob­jects around.

“Alright, I think we’re going to get through this,” Haw­thorne called.

“What’s that?” Calto yelled back.

“I said I think we’re gonna make it!” Haw­thorne shouted.

Calto made a few gestures.

“Are you in­sulting me?” Haw­thorne asked.

Calto made a few more gestures.

“Just because I said I wanted to learn hand­talk doesn’t mean I actually did, you stupid gnome!” Haw­thorne screamed.

Calto made a gesture of a raised middle finger.

“Oh, that is it,” Haw­thorne snapped. A weave of Wind Magic, like a giant finger, flicked Calto and knocked him back off his feet.

“Ack!” Calto cried.

Keolah put her face in her palm. “Let’s just focus on getting through this, shall we?”

“What?” Haw­thorne yelled.

Keolah gestured over to Sedder, who was alter­nately snickering and rolling his eyes.

<You are all idiots,> Sedder tepped.

“Oh, very funny,” Haw­thorne groused. “Now get out of my head.”

<I’m not in your head,> Sedder insisted.

“Then how can you tell what I just said?” Haw­thorne said. “It’s too loud to hear me from over there!”

<More like on your head, I suppose.>

“What?” Haw­thorne won­dered.

<That is just surface thoughts,> Sedder said. <When people are speaking aloud, they’re generally echoing their own words in their surface thoughts at the same time. That’s not the same thing as reading their mind. Besides, like you just said, you wouldn’t be able to under­stand me from over here if I weren’t using tele­pathy.>

“Oh, shut up,” Haw­thorne said.

The wind battered the barrier, and Haw­thorne struggled to keep it up. Hours passed, and it felt like the storm was never going to let up. The water rocked the ship and prob­ably would have flipped them right over if some of the gnomes hadn’t been Water Mages and were straining them­selves to keep it stable. Still, all of them were running into mana exhaustion before they finally started getting to the far side of the hurricane.

“Ugh,” Haw­thorne uttered as the wind died down to a level the barrier could mostly stop again. “Can I pass out now?”

“I can keep it up from here,” Calto said.

“Thanks,” Haw­thorne said, and promptly passed out. The remnants of the cyan-and-magenta dome wisped out of existence, leaving Calto’s sky blue mana alone there.

“I think we’re through the worst of it,” Sarom said.

Keolah had felt use­less during the en­tire ordeal. There was nothing her Talents could have done to help the situation. All she could do was make use of her hands and try to avoid getting blown away. Though maybe there was some­thing she could do to help. She could make potions. They hadn’t really been in a situation where they needed to ex­pend so much mana con­tinuously, but maybe she could get her hands on some ingredients that might help.

“Calto, do you know if there’s any­thing in this ocean that can be used to brew mana potions?” Keolah asked.

“This ocean?” Calto said. “I don’t know. But we can sift some stuff out of the water and you can see if any­thing will work if you like.”

“Let’s do it,” Keolah said. “I’d rather not get caught with our robes up again. Hope­fully we won’t even need them.”

Once they’d rested up a bit, the Water Mages on the crew picked out a variety of fish from the ocean. Normally, Keolah worked with plants more, but that wasn’t really an op­tion out here. Sure, she could fast-grow some herbs in a flower pot, but that would leech the nutrients out of the soil so quickly that it wouldn’t get her very much to make into potions. She took the ship’s alchemy equip­ment and ex­perimented a bit, producing several foul-smelling concoctions until she came up with a mixture that did what she wanted.

“This is what you came up with?” Haw­thorne asked, holding aloft a vial of brackish blue liquid and looking at it dubiously.

“It tastes terrible, but it’ll restore your mana,” Keolah said.

“Good enough, I guess,” Haw­thorne said. “I’ll just put a ward over my tongue so I can’t taste it, just like I always did when my mom made me eat broccoli.”

Three days later, it happened again, al­though at least it wasn’t as bad that time. Then an­other minor storm rolled past on the fifth day.

“They should have called this place the Sea of Storms and not the Sea of Stars,” Haw­thorne commented grumpily. “Unless there’s a Sea of Storms some­where else that’s even worse. Is there a Sea of Storms?”

“I don’t think so,” Calto said. “There’s the Sun­rise Sea, the Great Northern Ocean…”

“Calto!” Sarom yelled. “I think there’s an­other storm blowing up!”

“Valissa’s breasts,” Haw­thorne muttered. “Here we go again. How did the Albrynnians ever conquer half of Kalor if this is what they had to deal with?”

“Magic, I assume,” Delven said, shrugging help­lessly.

“We’re using magic, and this is still a pain in the butt!” Haw­thorne yelled.

“I managed to whip up a few more mana potions during the last lull,” Keolah said.

“You know, that would be great if I weren’t too busy using Security Magic to keep us from getting blown over­board to ward my tongue.”

“Oh, just take the potions,” Keolah said with a smirk, going to find a place to brace her­self again as the ship plowed into the storm heed­lessly.