GARETH LOOKED OVER his shoulder at the backs of sailors looking down at the main deck where Tiwaz met the challenges of those boasting her level of skill. “It’s been a week. Shouldn’t Tiwaz be included in planning how to get to Alimar?” He shut the door to the navigation room, looking at Simpkins and Doom.

Doom stretched, in his human form due to the confined space of the navigation room. He looked out the window along the back wall with a sigh. “Tiwaz knows she is good at one thing. That is fighting someone or something nose to nose. Strategy has never been something she ever had to use. At least, outside of the arenas.” He shook his head. “I ask her to sit with us every day. She refuses.”

Simpkins shrugged. “Until we have a better idea of our options, it’s probably better this way. So far, we are treading water at best and she’s absolutely no patience. She is also great at keeping the crew entertained. I’ve not let them have their fun for a few years longer than usual. They have been getting itchy.”

The half-dragon brothers traded a concerned look before Gareth asked, “They might mutiny?”

“What?” Simpkins looked up in surprise. “Oh, gods, no. They might choose someone else to be captain. Probably Baldar, and he’s no desire for the title. His love is the ship and her helm. He can barely be bothered with the crew outside of what they do for the ship herself. But if we’re going to get anywhere, we need some outside input.” He opened a small cabinet and poked the sleeping wind sprite. “Mya, go get Elyssia.”

The tiny creature fluttered her wings, crossing her arms and shaking her head. He scowled. “I do not care what Elyssia threatened. You tell her that gladiator on deck will do more than just glare at her if she finds out her intransigence is what delayed us from—” The ogre didn’t even finish the threat before Mya leapt into the air and dove into a fancy tube that led below deck.

Doom frowned. “You’re using Ti’s temper as a threat?”

“Do you really think Tiwaz would be terribly pleased if one high elf’s arrogance was the cause for delay or potential failure in this mission?” Simpkins asked, his voice droll, as he took down mugs and filled them from the small keg in the corner. “Elyssia owes me anyway. I’m the one that gave her her freedom. Such as it is.”

The men accepted the drinks. “She was a slave?”

The ogre nodded, wiping his upper lip with the back of his sleeve. “Aboard this ship, in fact. The Stone Dragon has a long and colorful history. I’ve never been able to discover her true origins, but she’s older than the high elven empire. It has always been a ship for…entrepreneurs. As far as I have been able to tell.”

“Pirates,” Gareth stated.

Simpkins scowled. “Fine, yes. Pirates. But not normal pirates. At least, not for the last five generations of captains. Most pirates will kill and destroy wantonly and reach a point in their destructive natures where nations band their navies together to hunt and obliterate them. We do not. In fact, we’re often hired by nations to hunt pirates for them.”

Doom scratched his head, light brown eyes unfocused as he mulled over the ogre’s words. “So…you are pirates, but you are not pirates? You know that makes no sense.”

“It is a paradox, yes,” Simpkins agreed. “The captains for at least five generations have kept the crew bound by one hard and fast rule: no raping and no killing unless defending the ship or a crew member. To willfully break that rule is death.” He shrugged, drinking his mead. “I’ve added no slavery to the forbidden actions. A willing crew is a more loyal one.”

“And the crew goes along with all that?” Gareth asked. Simpkins nodded as he leaned back on one of the wall benches. The three looked over when the door opened and Mya made a beeline to her cubby and pulled the tiny door shut behind herself. Their gaze was drawn to the woman who entered the room.

Only a head shorter than Simpkins, the high elf looked like a human stretched like taffy, a most improbable narrowness. Everything from limbs to face and fingers were long and narrow. Her large, ice blue eyes held no warmth as she fixed her gaze on Simpkins. “I said I wished solitude.”

Gareth could not help but stare. “I’ve never seen a high elf before,” he muttered a little too loud to Doom, drawing a hateful look from the woman.

“I have.” He inclined his head to Elyssia. “They look much better alive.”

The hateful frown turned to one that failed to mask her confusion, her eyes on the Dragonway medallions they wore openly. “Who is this? I was not told we took on passengers when we went to Crossroads.”

“You might know if you ever came out of seclusion,” Simpkins replied tersely. “These are Bard Gareth Tavarius and Thrahx Vaug, also called Doom. The woman thrashing half the crew on deck is Tiwaz and her companion panther Ky-Lar is—”

The cross expression vanished into outright surprise. “You found a true shape-shifter? They still live?”

Gareth nearly spit out his drink at her words, Simpkins thumping his back. Doom leveled a narrow-eyed look on the elf. “How do you know what Tiwaz is?”

The wintry expression failed to conceal her other emotions. “Before the rebellion that shattered the world, the Ky had been allies to the high elves for longer than the empire stood. It was their guidance that lifted us from our more primitive roots. They served us as guardians, healers, and teachers, as well as many other capacities. Their aceri were the only race we never considered slaves, even if they were still relatively primitive in comparison to us.”

“Allies to the high elves?” Gareth clasped his pendant briefly. “I thought it was only the lycanthropy disease that was behind the animosity towards them.”

She sat down with all the air of high aristocracy. “I doubt any beyond my race remember the alliance. The animosity is rooted in their ability to take on another shape. After the empire had formed, the high elves betrayed the Ky. Not my family, nor many others who sought to emulate the Ky and guide the other primitive races out of their more animal state and into a more enlightened civilization.”

She sighed, closing her large eyes. The light caught the delicate whimsies clasped to the slender points of her ears in decoration. “The ability to take on another form is something highly coveted by many. Some believed the Ky were wrong to withhold the knowledge, that we had grown to be their equals.

“But to harm one Ky is to harm them all. The moment one was tortured in an attempt to extract knowledge, they all knew. Most high elves will say they betrayed us. The truth was they shunned us. They rescued their own and abruptly abandoned us all, whether we were involved or not. We assumed they had found a means to leave this world.”

“I can hardly blame the shape-shifters,” Doom stated sourly. “It was probably not an anomalous one or two individuals who betrayed them; you betrayed them as a race. I’m sure they expected the rest of your people to turn around and enslave them like you did to every other race you considered beneath you.”

Elyssia frowned darkly. “Who do you think you are to speak to me that way?” Her eyes went wide and she shrank back when he shed the human form for his gromek one. Having to keep his wings half-fanned and stand stooped over to keep from dragging his horns against the ceiling. “Shape-shifting? But-but you have no Ky aceri...”

“I do not need one,” Doom intoned, his displeasure clear in voice and posture, yellow eyes flashing menacingly. “Tiwaz and I were victims of one of your people’s other failures.” He removed his wrist bracer to brandish his scarred wrists. “Alimar the Black.”

“Alimar!” She tore her eyes from Doom to stare at Simpkins. “This is about Alimar the Black?” She grabbed the nearest object and flung it at Simpkins. “Why did you not say so to begin with, you bastard?!”

Simpkins caught the object and carefully sat it on the map table. “Honestly, I had no idea you would care, Elyssia. You explicitly told me you wished to have no knowledge of the ship’s business.” He studied the woman with a frown. “If you would come out sometimes—”

Gareth interrupted before the woman threw something else. “Do you know of Alimar?”

“Know of him?! Of course I know of him! How could I not—?!” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Forgive me,” she apologized in a hushed voice. “How could you know? It has been so long.” Her eyes remained on her hands, the filmy veil she wore over her hair slipping forward to obscure her face.

Doom returned to his smaller, human form, studying the high elf as Simpkins brought her a cup with wine. His eyes fell on her ring. “I’ve seen that symbol before.” He gestured towards her. “Your ring.”

She held out her hand to look at the ring in silence. “It is all I have left of my family.” Her eyes closed, but a tear slid down her cheek. “My family crest.”

Doom sat bolt upright. “Shurakh Arln belonged to your family?” Gareth and Simpkins stared when the woman nodded. “Do you know of the Dragonway temple hidden under it?”

“Yes. It was the family secret. Not even the slaves knew of it. Most considered worship of any god gauche.” She laughed bitterly. “Many high elves considered themselves equal to or superior to the gods, despite having records of many of the ‘inferior’ races ascending. Ascension was to be the mark when they had become our equals and earning their freedom.”

“Your people had gotten used to the power over others and didn’t want to lose it,” Gareth observed.

“There were families like mine who disagreed, but we were in the minority. The higher-ranking families were quick to brand them traitors and have them executed…or worse. Most of our slaves were slaves in name only.” She shook her head. “I was just a girl when the war broke out. I don’t remember much, but no matter how well our slaves were treated, no one was going to defend a high elf.”

“Alimar took advantage of the confusion, didn’t he? Betrayed your family,” Simpkins said as he sat beside her. “Do you know what happened to the other members of your family?”

She shook her head. “I only know I and some others were sold into slavery to some of the other newly emancipated races. I shudder to imagine what he would have done to me if he had known I would develop the gift of foresight. Eventually, I was acquired by a…cold woman who used my abilities to attack competitor merchants so she could take over their businesses.”

“How did you come to be here as part of the crew of the Stone Dragon?” Doom wondered, curious despite himself.

“Three thousand years ago, this ship had attacked my then-master’s ship.” She looked up, a bitter smile on her lips. “They took all of the cargo, killed everyone and sank it. I held no affection for them. I welcomed their demise as just retribution for the cruelty they had inflicted on me and innumerable others.” She could see the question in Gareth’s eyes. “Slaves are only considered cargo. Simpkins gave me my freedom only fifteen years ago shortly after being named the captain’s second.”

“I had no idea it had been so long for you.” Simpkins scanned the room with a thoughtful expression. He looked at Elyssia, growing serious. “Know that I appreciate you staying with us as part of the crew.”

“Did I have any choice in staying?” She looked up at him. “If I left, where would I go, Captain?” Simpkins opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again, closing his eyes and looking away.

Gareth held out his hand to the woman. “We are in need of guidance. Would you be willing to help us?”

She tilted her head, puzzled by something in his voice. “If I am able, but I cannot promise anything. The answers I can divine are enigmatic at best. Even the more specific answers bring more confusion than aid.”

“It has to be better than where we stand now.” Gareth glanced at Doom, turning back to Elyssia when the humanized gromek nodded. “Doom and Tiwaz plan to kill Alimar. But we do not know how best to accomplish this.”

The high elf’s eyes lit up. She clasped her pendant and closed her eyes, concentrating. A delicate frown creased her brow. “So strange…I have never sensed anything like this b—” They all jumped when the door slammed open, a half-dressed, barefoot Tiwaz glaring, Ky-Lar snarling by her side.

“Stop it,” Tiwaz demanded, her tone a feral growl, her eyes startlingly green for several moments before they were gold again. “I can tell you think to do something with magic against me.”

“Stop what?” Simpkins asked, bewildered. “No one here is doing anything against you.”

Doom went to his friend, trying to put a soothing hand on her arm. “Ti, what’s the matter?”

Reflexively, she swatted his hand away. “Don’t touch me! I care nothing how helpful or necessary that form is; it is a fabrication. Do not touch me with lies!” She fixed her glare on Elyssia who cowered behind Simkins, trembling with fear naked in her eyes. “You! Keep your filthy magic to yourself!”

“Tiwaz!” Simpkins barked in a sharp, scolding tone. “Don’t threaten one of my crew.”

“Then tell her to keep her tainted blood magic to herself and I won’t have to kill her,” Tiwaz snarled. Unlike his aceri, Ky-Lar slowly calmed, his displeasure colored with puzzlement as he looked between her and the high elf.

Doom looked down sharply at the panther’s throaty growl. “What do you mean, her magic tastes like Alimar’s?”

“Oh, gods, no,” Elyssia whispered in horror. “That can’t be what my dreams had meant. Not my family.”

Simpkins hesitated, then put his arm around the slender woman. “What wrong, Elyssia?” She couldn’t speak, hiding her face against his chest, sobbing quietly.

“That is who they were. I understand now.” Tiwaz’s fixed look, still hard, changed ever so slightly in recognition. “You are one of them.”

Doom started to put a hand on Tiwaz’s shoulder to get her attention, stopping when she looked at him. “Most of Alimar’s magic is not his own. Except runic.”

“What? I don’t understand, Ti.” He noticed the change in Simpkins’ expression. “You know what she’s talking about?”

“Tiwaz said ‘blood magic.’ I thought that was only a fable. A scary children’s story told to malign magic users and turn those ungifted against us.” He met the woman’s gold eyes. “You are certain he practices this perversion?”

“He keeps many high elves in a dark pit in the lowest chamber of his tower. Each is impaled with a bone spike engraved with runes that transfer their life energy and abilities to him while they bleed.” She blinked once, staring at the other woman. The men could only stare at her in horror. “Whenever the wounds seal around the spikes, he twists them to renew the flow. Whenever they hover on the edge of death, he submerges them in a vat of healing potion, so they cannot die, nor even go mad.” The only sound in the room was Elyssia’s sobbing. Even the sounds from without sounded muffled and subdued.

Doom found his voice after some time. “You never told me about this, Ti.”

“And risk you suffering Alimar’s wrath because I spoke of his darkest secrets?” She shook her head once. “There are many who suffer at his hands. Trying to save them then would have left others behind I could not protect by keeping his attention on me.” Her hands curled into fists. “Who knows how many endure his attentions without me there.”

Elyssia collected herself, rubbing the tears from her face. “Warrior, I intended no harm to you with my magic. I sought an answer to your companions’ request for guidance in your mission. The vision and words do not make sense, and I fear they will haunt me for the rest of my days. But I offer them to you, nevertheless.”

Tiwaz nodded once. “If Simpkins trusts you, I will trust you. I cannot allow Alimar any more time torturing those helpless against him.”

The high elf took a deep breath, clasping her pendant again. “Victory will determine which of two bargains is satisfied. Faith in the face of adversity will give escape to the wrath of divinity impaired.” Tiwaz nodded once, turned on her heel, and left. Ky-Lar looked after her, then at Elyssia. His ears turned back, his teeth bared briefly, before he followed Tiwaz out.

“What does that even mean?” Doom asked crossly. “Is that all the use a seer is? Babbling gibberish?” Elyssia flushed, her eyes dropping at Doom’s criticism.

“The only thing more I can offer is an impression I got from the visions.” She did not raise her eyes. “She cannot change the manner in which she has always achieved victory. It is the fire she has been forged within and the mettle that sustains her. She has already achieved victory against him once before this way.”

Doom’s eyes widened. “You want her to face him as a gladiator? You’re insane. He is a magic user!”

“Tiwaz has magic of her own,” Gareth pointed out.

“Untrained! I’ve only been training barely a month and I know I couldn’t face a mage on their terms. This,” he stated, waving his hands at himself for emphasis. “This is to keep from drawing attention to ourselves so Alimar doesn’t realize we live before we can reach him. It is useless for anything else.”

“Do you have so little faith in her?” Elyssia demanded, her pale eyes flashing in the light, her vehemence surprising all three males. “Has she not faced his magic before? Did she fail when facing it?”

Doom opened his mouth, then shut it again, turning his back on the three. “No, she has never lost a fight. But she has come close to dying. So many times. I want Alimar dead, but not if it costs her life.”

Gareth rose, standing behind Doom. He hesitantly placed his hand on his shoulder. “You go to face a man who has lived over five thousand years and had the blackest heart throughout all of them. I do not deal in false hope with my art. It does no good for anyone. Yes, death is a very real possibility. Failure cannot be permitted. You know better than anyone what will happen if Alimar is not defeated.”

“I know, Gareth.” Simpkins and Elyssia looked away from the poignant anguish in Doom’s voice. “She lived only for this day. When we were children, I held her in my arms and convinced her to live. Live to see him dead. She lived to keep me safe.”

“Then you know she would never let him defeat her,” the bard stated. “Losing would endanger you.”

“You don’t understand. Victory does not mean she would survive. I can’t remember how many times she has hovered on the edge of death and I did everything to keep her alive without needing Alimar’s potions. He would make her suffer so much more because I failed to do it myself.”

Gareth managed a sad smile. “It sounds like she got as good as she did for you.”

Doom nodded. “When we were finally free, she died in my arms once.” He laughed without mirth. “She was so weak, but she fought Death himself anyway.

“She had a gut wound. If I’d only known I had magic…!” He sighed, shaking his head. “I thought she died in my arms and wanted to die myself. My promise to her, that we would be free, was fulfilled. But then the wound closed. It had not healed completely, but she recovered.”

Simpkins blinked, then looked in the direction he knew Tiwaz to be, his expression speculative. “By all that’s holy and unholy, is it possible?” He looked back to Doom. “She healed herself through glyphs designed to constrain her magic?”

Doom looked mildly perplexed. “I assume so. I didn’t heal her, I know that much. And the gods deny having interfered because they did not realize what she was until Sulnar removed them. Why? Does it mean something?”

“I’m not sure,” Simpkins replied, temporizing. “I need to do some research before I can even theorize anything.” He leaned over to kiss Elyssia’s temple lightly, then turned to face Doom again. “The one thing we know we need to do is get close to Alimar, and it would be too dangerous to go to Shurakh Arln. That is his domain, and even a blundering magic user like me knows you do not hunt prey in their home.”

“Point,” Doom agreed, crossing his arms. “So, you have a plan, then?”

Simpkins waved one hand dismissively as he pulled out a bottle, blowing the dust off before offering to fill cups. “I know what I need to begin a plan. I need to know about life in Golden Mount. I’ve never taken the Stone Dragon to port there before. Given her history, so long as we do not act like a pirate ship, they won’t do more than look at us suspiciously. Merchants are highly competitive and often spread rumors of piracy through all the ports. Any city that acts on rumors alone would lose every ship coming into port and it would destroy trade.”

“The crew will be disappointed,” Elyssia opined in dry tones.

“I’ll make it up to them later,” he promised, his voice reflecting his revitalized energy. “Tell me everything. Even the tiniest detail is important.”