 
Sailing to Redoubt

C. Litka

Smashword Version 2 (April 2020)

©2019 Charles Litka

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Dedication

To my father-in-law Frank, for all his enthusiasm and support for all my crazy ideas over the years.

Chapter 01 Storm, Shipwreck, and Pirates

01

I clung to the railing on the tilting deck. The horizon would not stay still. It would sink below the Island Crown's railing, leaving only the sickly green-tinted clouds racing silently overhead, like a school of kelp darters with an armorfish in pursuit. This was followed, moments later, by an uncomfortable twist as the Island Crown righted itself on top of the broad crest, revealing the eastern horizon. A horizon of menacingly dark, lightning-laced purple clouds – the racing green clouds' armorfish, as it were. And then, the Island Crown would once again twist and tilt the other way. This time the angry horizon would be swallowed by the oily-smooth green wall of the next wave as the ship slid into its deep trough. My stomach wasn't easy. My mind wasn't particularly easy either.

There wasn't a breath of wind. It was hot as an oven. The only sound, the hiss and gurgle of the sea rolling away from the Island Crown's stem, and the remote, thump, thump, of its steam engine.

'Welcome back to the islands, Lieutenant,' said a grinning Mr. Derth, the Island Crown's second mate, as he, clinging to the handrails, slowly dodged his way along the sloping deck, making certain all the cabin doors were secure. 'I bet it brings back fond memories of your island youth.'

'In my island youth, I'd be securing the last of the storm shutters over the windows at the mercantile. No islander would be at sea in this weather. Look around, you don't see a sail. They've long since found themselves a sheltered cove on the lee side of a tall island. About now they're brewing a big pot of kaf and will ride out the storm in comfort.'

'I can't say I don't envy them. Still, we're steel and steam, not thin wood planking and batten sails. And we have a schedule to keep with plenty of sea room and no islands to worry about. Besides, we've yet to meet a typhoon that has the Island Crown's name on its ledger,' he added with a sweep of his hand and a grin. 'And we've met more than a few...'

'Now don't go tempting fate and the storm gods, mate.'

'Oh, don't go all islander on me,' he laughed. 'The glass ain't all that low. Yon storm's going to just brush by us.'

'I trust you're right, Mr. Derth.'

'Too late now, not to, Lieutenant,' he said with a grin, and continued weaving his way forward on the steeply angled deck.

With each rise of the true horizon, the menacing purple clouds arched ever higher in the sky. Below them, a thin white line marked the sky from the dark sea. Still eerily silent, the whole world seemed to be holding its hot breath. As ugly as the scene was, or at least promised to be, I could not tear myself away. So I clung to the railing and the iron pillar that rose to the bridge deck above, watching the storm's approach. Finally, when the white line of the sea was close enough to be seen as the surface of the ocean being torn to wispy threads by the force of the onrushing wind, I decided that it was time to retire to my cabin. Too late.

As I lurched across the sloping passageway, I felt the Island Crown begin to swing about to face the coming blow. The wind screamed and struck the ship. And before I could get my cabin door completely closed, the roaring, wind driven rain sent me reeling into my cabin. Wind and spindrift tore around it several times before I found a foothold to brace myself, and shouldered the door closed.

Slowly the Island Crown righted itself and its movement changed as it plunged through the onrushing storm. There was nothing left for me to do, but climb into the hammock I'd hung across my small cabin, and ride it out.

For what seemed like endless hours, the wind howled and the waves pounded the Island Crown, while the thump, thump of the engine defied them. I could hear its single screw frantically racing for a moment every time its stern was lifted clear of the water. While I didn't exactly envy the crew, and their tasks, perhaps doing something more than swinging helplessly in a hammock, would've made those hours crawl by faster than they did for me. Eventually, sometime during the night, I fell into a restless sleep.

02

All storms must end, and this one blew by shortly after dawn. Mr. Derth was right; we must've just brushed along its edge, since island typhoons can blow for days. When I finally rolled out of my hammock, the day was bright, and while the Island Crown was still lively bounding along, it had a familiar rhythm that my stomach didn't mind. Indeed, I had an appetite. So I put on a fresh, tropical uniform of white shorts, shirt, sandals, and the cap of an Aerlonian Navy lieutenant, limited time, and stepped out into the bright morning. The sky was rain washed clean, deep blue and streaked with thin white clouds; the tattered hem of the racing typhoon. The sun was already warm, the air mild – a smiling Tropic Sea day once more.

I made my way to the grey and green painted saloon below the bridge. Stepping in, I was delighted to discover the enticing aroma of fresh roasted kaf beans, strong enough to overlay its customary pall of nondescript stews and cabbage. The weary off watch was struggling to stay awake as they ate their lukewarm porridge and drank that hot kaf from battered tin mugs.

'Sleep well, Lieutenant?' Chief Engineer Gildock, asked sarcastically.

'I was rocked to sleep, Chief. Beautiful day isn't it? There's always a welcomed freshness after a bit of rain, isn't there?'

'Oh, it will get hot and close enough soon enough.'

'Where you're working, anyway,' I replied cheerfully while pouring myself a cup of kaf from the battered pot. 'Still, thanks mates, for the chance to enjoy this cup on this side of the great divide.'

'We live to serve our customers,' the Chief replied raising his cup.

I raised mine to him and the crew as well. '"We live" are the operative words, I believe.'

'Oh, fosh! That little blow? And you an islander – and a naval officer!' exclaimed Derth.

'An LT officer, mate – LT as in limited time. And all I've been commanding is a desk in the Admiralty in Kanadora these past two years. Plus, I'm seven years away from the islands. I may've grown rather soft.'

'I'd say rather posh,' growled Gildock.

'And posh,' I admitted.

03

Mid-morning found me lounging on a deckchair on the bridge deck enjoying the ever more familiar Tropic Sea. The deep blue sea sparkled in the sunlight that was hot on my shoulders. The breeze carried hints of the jungle from the tall, lush green island off to port. There were two more islands around the half of the horizon I could see, both blue in the distance, both crowned by a cloud. You were never out of sight of an island in the Tropic Sea. I noted seven sails spread around the horizon – all but one small fishing boats. The one was a large, three masted island trader.

I sighed and smiled. It was good to be home, or at least within three days, of home. I'd left the islands to attend university nearly seven years ago, and was last home for a visit more than two years ago, between graduating and joining the Aerlonian Navy.

'Would you mind stepping up to the bridge for a minute, Lieutenant Lang?' Captain Wera called down from the navigation bridge.

'I'd be delighted, sir,' I replied. I climbed to my feet and then up the steep steps to the navigation bridge, close at hand.

'What do you make of that fellow, Lieutenant?' he asked, handing me his binoculars and nodding to that three masted island trader that I'd been watching. It had come at us from that tall, single peaked island off our port side. 'He altered his course to close in on us. I'm wondering what he's thinking.'

'I was wondering that myself,' I replied. Bringing the binoculars to my eyes, I brought the ship into focus. The three blue-dyed batten sails were already suggestive – though there were probably a hundred islands with blue-dyed, batten sailed ships plying the Tropic Sea. But few of them would have been that large. Once I was able to clearly see her hull – a black painted lorcha with its distinctive yellow trim – there was no question. She had the wind on her aft quarter and was sailing all out, throwing up a creaming white bow wave.

'A Banjar trading lorcha,' I replied.

'Humpf. A trading lorcha?' muttered the Captain. 'With a 50 man crew lining the windward rail?'

'Well, let's say a nominal trader.'

'Why not simply say a pirate?'

I lowered the glasses and smiled. 'If you asked him, he'd claim to be a trader.'

'And you'd believe him?'

'Well, no. And he'd not expect me to,' I smiled. 'But it's all part of the island way of life. You're given the benefit of doubt until you open fire.'

'I'm not an islander,' grumbled the Captain.

I turned back to watch the approaching lorcha. 'He's rather far out of his usual haunts. I recall reading a report that the Banja's neighboring islands of Zanra and Trillora have both increased their navies thanks to Feldarain aid. It would seem that the Princes of Banjar are having to send their traders further afield these days.'

'Humpf! He can't possibly be thinking that he can do business with me, can he?'

'I doubt it. He's probably sailing all out like that to snatch up any worthwhile ships coming out of shelter form the neighboring islands before they scatter to the four winds.'

Occasional piracy was an ugly facet of the island way of life. However, the island way of life dictated that the boats that were sheltering together in a storm must put aside their trades and rivalries to observe a truce for the storm, plus a day afterwards to give all the kelp darters of the boats a fair chance to escape any armorfish that may have also taken shelter in the lagoon with them. To do otherwise would be like netting fish in a barrel. Fair is fair, even in piracy. Plus, it is widely believed to anger the island gods whom the islanders, including pirates, depended on for their luck and prosperity.

We watched in silence for a while as the Banjar continued to rapidly close with us.

'Surely he can't be thinking that we're potential prey,' the Captain muttered, shaking his head. He glanced aft, towards the canvas covered 10 cm cannon just visible on the after edge of the bridge deck beyond the boat davit. 'But then, I'm not fond of pirates, so let him try.'

'He does seem rather eager, doesn't he?' I muttered, as I considered the situation. Manned with 50 sailors, a Banjar lorcha would certainly eye every island ship they encountered with thoughts of capturing her, making her cargo their own, and selling her crew as slaves. However, one would think that a steel steamship from one of the southern continents would be another matter. At least in broad daylight. Steamships, like the 70 meter Cealan & Cha Line Island Crown, are always armed with a 10 cm cannon or two that can fire explosive shells capable of reducing the swift sailing, wooden sailing ships of the islands to driftwood in short order. Prudent would-be-pirates did not attempt to take steamships, at least in broad daylight. Given a dark, cloudy night, well, that might be a different story, if the pirate captain wasn't all that prudent. It was no coincidence that batten sails of the Banjar were dyed dark blue.

'Perhaps he's not seen your 10 cm pieces yet, since yours are not bow and stern mounted,' I said after a while. 'Not seeing them there, he might want to take a closer look at us on the off chance that the lack of bow and stern cannons is due to storm damage. I doubt that he'll venture any closer than he needs to spy your pair. But then again, maybe he's just taunting you. It would be in character.'

'Well, I've been sailing the islands long enough to be a bit of a character myself,' he growled, and turning to the first mate, who had the watch, said, 'See that the port cannon is armed and manned, Mr. Bril. I have the bridge. Two can taunt.'

'Aye, sir,' said Bril, with a grin, and hurried aft, calling out to the deck crew, who were hammering away on a storm damaged ventilator, to clear and man the gun.

Once the gun was cleared for action, Captain Wera altered course slightly to show the Banjars, now less than a kilometer off, that his gun was manned. The altered course also brought the gun to bear on the Banjar lorcha.

In response, the Banjar captain backed his sails, bringing his ship to a standstill, allowing the Island Crown to steam past; its 10 cm cannon tracking the lorcha with a crew eager for the order to fire. Like the Banjar crew across the way, the entire Island Crown's off duty crew were now lining the bulwark, eager for any action.

'That captain fellow looked a'mite disappointed,' muttered Captain Wera as he dropped his binoculars once we put the lorcha astern. 'An ugly looking chap.'

The lorcha reset her sails and, crossing our trailing wake of white water and a wispy white smoke, swung around to our starboard side and began to gain on us again.

'So he wants to see our starboard gun, as well, does he?' muttered the Captain. A jerk of his hand to his first mate, who was watching him from the gun mount, sent the gun crew scampering to the starboard cannon with the eager spectators joining them.

I followed the Captain across to the starboard wing of the navigation bridge and scanned the sea to see if there were any sails on the horizon that might prove more profitable prey for the Banjars than the Island Crown. No sails, but ahead and off to starboard, I saw a flash of color and a spark of reflection which was not a sunbeam off a wave.

I stared hard. I could just make out a handful of figures waving their shirts from what looked to be a raft when it rose to the top of the swell.

'Sir, I believe there are some shipwrecked survivors.' I pointed in their direction.

The Captain swung around and focused his glass on them for several moments before sighing, 'Ah, yes, I believe you're right. I don't suppose it would be proper for an Aerlonian gentleman to leave the Banjars to rescue them... Would it?'

I took it to be a rhetorical question, and didn't answer. It was his call. He turned back to the bridgehouse and called out, 'Quartermaster, 2 points to starboard, quarter speed!'

The quartermaster at the helm repeated the order, swung the wheel and rang the engine room.

Walking to the after edge of the navigation wing, he called out, 'Mr. Bril, See to the launching of the starboard longboat, and gather a boat crew. Lively now, we have some shipwrecked survivors to collect, before the Banjars can get to them.'

'May I volunteer to join the boat party, Captain?' I asked.

'Suit yourself, Lieutenant.'

'Thank you, sir,' I replied eagerly, and hurried to my quarters to dig out my sidearm and a box of ammunition from my kit bag. I shoved the box of bullets in my pocket and belted on my service revolver as I hurried around to the other side of the ship where the crew were freeing the longboat for launching.

'The Skipper has given me permission to join your boat crew, Mr. Bril – with your permission, of course,' I said, stepping next to him as he directed the operation.

'Oh, you're welcome enough,' he replied glancing aside to me, and noting my sidearm, added, 'Are we to expect trouble?'

'Armorfish for sure,' I replied, and glancing across the half a kilometer of water that now separated us from the Banjar lorcha, I could see activity around their stern boat as well. 'And well, it looks like the Banjars are just as eager to rescue them as we are. They're potentially lucrative slaves to the Banjars, so there may be a spot of trouble with them.'

'I doubt that your revolver will be able to settle any trouble with the likes of them,' he murmured, turning back to the davit to call out some more directions.

I had to admit that he was likely right. But we did have a 10 cm cannon.

04

I glanced up from loading my revolver at the crackling of gunfire. The rise of the swell revealed that the Banjars in the boat they had launched were cheerfully firing into the sea with their handguns and rifles – no doubt at any armorfish in sight. The wreck had attracted quite a pack of them.

There's a shared love between armorfish and humans. They love to eat us, and we find them delicious eating, as well. However, in this case they weren't being hunted for dinner. The Banjars were attempting to draw blood in order to attract the armorfish away from the wreck. Their handgun fire was just a playful lark, as revolvers aren't likely to do any harm to a three to five meter long armorfish with its hard, bone-like back plates with a double row of spikes. Oh, it might startle, and maybe annoy them, but that was about it. The larger caliber rifles, however, might draw blood, and since it takes only a trace of blood to attract their attention, any blood drawn might draw at least some of the armorfish away from the wreck, making getting the survivors off a little safer. Hopefully their ploy would work, since I could see quite a few glistening spiked backs not only circling the low, waterlogged wreck, but occasionally surging up onto its wave washed deck to snap at the six survivors perched on the top of a half-height cabin.

I snapped the cylinder of my revolver shut as the Banjar captain bellowed an order to his boat crew to cease firing and man the oars, in order to race us to the wreck. I had taken my station in the bow of the launch and had a boat hook close at hand to hold us alongside the wreck when we arrived. We had four men at the oars, with Mr. Bril standing in the stern manning the tiller. He too, was now wearing a holstered revolver, along with a rifle on the bench before him.

The larger crewed Banjar boat beat us to the wreck by less than half a minute. The Banjar captain, who was on board their launch, was already bellowing out orders for the shipwrecked crew to come aboard, or be dragged on board, when we arrived, tactfully on the other side of the wreck.

The wreck looked to be a single-hulled yacht of some twelve meters, wooden built with a single mast, that was now floating alongside on the Banjar side. The cabin down the center of the yacht was the last refuge of the crew, as water filled its interior and waves washed over its deck. Only the natural buoyancy of its wooden construction was keeping it afloat. The crew, save one, were sitting on their kit bags and seemed unmoved by the Banjar captain's orders. The one, a slim woman, was standing alongside the stump of the yacht's mast and had been telling the Banjars to shove off. All of the yacht's crew were dressed in loose, tan colored, calf-length trousers, a sailors' knives on their belts, and white, loose, open necked shirts with colorful bandannas, topped by a variety of brimmed and rather waterlogged woven grass hats. In short, the typical dress of a more cosmopolitan type of islanders.

'Push off, you lot!' roared the much more colorfully dressed Banjar captain, directing his attention to us, as I hooked the lip of the yacht's deck with the boat hook and pulled us close alongside. Adding, with an even darker glare, 'This is our salvage by right of first claim.'

His numerous boat crew growled, seconding his claim. They were a very colorful band of men and a few women. They were dressed either brightly dyed loincloths or baggy trousers, with skirts in reds, oranges and yellows, many with open jerkins of armorfish leather and armor. They also had several bandannas around their necks. The men and women both wove strings of shells and beads through their long hair, and all sported several armorfish leather belts around their waist for their long knives, short swords, and handguns. The barrel chested captain wore chains of gold under his open armorfish jerkin.

I gave him a casual island salute, touching my forehead with my fist. 'We do not contest your right of salvage...'

'We've already declined your offer of salvage,' snapped the rather savage looking young lady at the mast. 'They have no claim.'

'And wisely so,' I said, saluting her as well. 'We make no claim to salvage. We're here to offer you and your crew passage to Fey Lon, courtesy of the Island Crown, and, I might add, passage home as well, if necessary, courtesy of the Aerolonia Navy's distressed mariners' fund.'

'Bugger off, mate,' growled the Banjar captain. 'I'm giving you one and only one warning. They're mine, and I intend to have them, one way or another. And there's nothing you can do about it,' he added with a sweep of his hand to his crew at his back, who outnumbered us three to one, and outgunned us by a far greater margin.

I bit back my first impulse to mention our 10 cm cannon in the offing. It would be of no help here and now. Instead I smiled and said, 'We don't want trouble. Trouble will only feed the armorfish...' One of which, as if on cue, surfaced and slid over the battered railing and across the mostly submerged deck of the launch to snap at the crew on the cabin, and then at us in the boat, before wiggling back into the water. It then swam under our boat, raking its spikes against its bottom, just to prove its point.

'I don't mind trouble. And I wouldn't mind feeding you to the armorfish or making you guests of the Bird-of-night as well,' replied the Banjor captain. 'So bugger off and let me take off this sorry lot of hopeless excuses for sailors.'

'I will make a great deal of trouble for you if you try,' snapped the lady at the mast.

I had only one card to play, and it was a weak one. But as I said, it was my only one.

'We're within the waters of the Principality of Merkara. Piracy and slavery is outlawed in Merkara waters. As an officer of in Aerlonian Navy, and an ally of the Prince of Merkara, I'm ordering you to cease your efforts to take these people prisoners. They have refused your offer of aid, so please return to your ship and be on your honest way.'

He laughed. I didn't blame him. Given the circumstances, I had to make a great effort to play that card without laughing myself. Still, it was on the table.

'And if I don't? Are you going to try to stop me?'

'I'll see that you're hunted down and hung as pirates. We'll be in Merkara by this evening (a lie) and I'll report you as a pirate upon arrival,' I replied, boldly enough. They did hang pirates in the Principality of Merkara, and who knows, perhaps Captain Wera would briefly call on Merkara... 'Plus, we're only three days out of Fey Lon and its Aerlonian naval base. There's likely a fast corvette or frigate at anchor that would like nothing better than to hunt down a Banjar pirate.' That part, at least, might not be all bluff.

The Banjar Captain considered my threat for a second or two, and then grinned, 'The seas are wide.' And adding, with a sweep of his arm, 'Bak, Nan, Lee, jump to it and haul our guests onboard. The rest of you, keep yon crew in your sights, but don't shoot until I give the order. We don't want trouble, now, do we?' he added with a laugh, watching me.

As Bak, Nan, and Lee, made their way to the gunwale of the boat, armed with thick canes to beat the yacht crew into submission, I let my hand fall to the handle of my revolver at my side.

And yet...

I looked across the wreck to the thickly packed Banjar boat. I could think of nothing else to do. Nothing wise, anyway. A gun fight would not only result in getting myself and my shipmates shot and possibly killed, but would likely kill the survivors on the wreck in the crossfire as well.

I glanced back to Mr. Bril. He was in command of the boat. He shrugged, and then looked back at the Island Crown. It was now up to Captain Wera aboard the Island Crown and his 10 cm cannon...

The Banjar captain's smile widened, as he read my thoughts on my face. As far as he was concerned, this was an islander affair and the continentals would stay out of it, when it came to more than talk. 'Off you go mates,' he snarled to Bak, Nan, and Lee, who had prudently paused on the gunwale to survey the surrounding waters for armorfish.

But before they could be off, the grim faced lady at the mast lifted her arm, and pointing it at them, said in a clear, cold, loud voice, 'Die.'

I can't say, with certainty, what happened in the next few seconds. But something did happen. I was left with an impression that there was some sort of flickering and then, silently, Bak, Nan, and Lee collapsed into the arms of their comrades behind them, as if dead.

For several long seconds I, and everyone else on both boats, just stared at the limp bodies, trying to make sense of what just happened. And then we all turned to the grim faced figure at the mast. She still had her arm outstretched, and was now pointing directly at the Banjar captain.

'Now go,' she commanded, in her hard, cold voice.

The Banjar captain, after staring in disbelief at his collapsing men, roared, 'Bak, Nan, Lee, jump to it, I said! Get her!'

Held upright only by their comrades behind them, the three limp men didn't jump to it.

One of the rowers behind me – a native islander – was next to speak. 'Sorcery,' he muttered quietly. And then loudly in rising panic, 'She's a sorceress! Why, they're the fire-cursed Vente, mates!'

This sent a startled ripple of fear through the Banjar boat's crew. The other islander on our crew gasped as well.

'Leave now, Captain, or you, and your crew, will all die,' said the alleged sorceress, pointing directly at him.

Undaunted, the Banjar Captain roared, 'Shoot her!'

'Die,' she commanded, in reply.

A flicker?

And he did, folding and collapsing like Bak, Nan, and Lee into the arms of his crew behind him.

'Fire-cursed magic!' exclaimed our islander crewman behind me.

A couple of wild shots followed, but almost to a man, the Banjar crew decided not to die. They flung themselves into a flurry of howling activity, not to open fire, but to escape the fire-cursed Vente wreck with its sorceress. They scrambled to their oars, and frantically pushed their boat away from the wreck. Once clear, they started rowing for their ship, putting their back into it, without orders to. The slender woman at the mast kept her arm pointing at them until the were out of reliable gun shot range.

And just to be fair, our two islanders had tried to follow suit, but Bril and I held the boat tight to the wreck, while Bril howled, 'Hold up, you blasted fools. What are you up to? I gave no orders!'

I suppose to most islanders, no orders were necessary to get clear of a fire-cursed Vente sorcerer, given their dark reputation. Islanders learned to fear the Vente from a young age. The stories of the Ventes arriving in the moonless darkness of the night to carry very naughty children away with them, were used to frighten naughty children into behaving. The Vente were, however, more than just stories to scare children. They were part of the dark pantheon of island mythology – like demon armorfish, the volcanic fire gods, or the storm gods with their lightning ships of blue fire. I'm far from certain that the Banjar captain could have even made them approach the wreck if they had known they were Vente. Or that he would've even tried.

Of course, like the demon armorfish and the storm gods, the Vente were mostly myth and legend, at least this far south in the Tropic Sea. Actual Vente or not, it was the fact that the woman at the mast pointed to four men, told them to die, and they did, that made them Vente. That was enough. And, truth be told, if I'd been one of them, a true islander, I'd be rowing hard with them as well.

But I wasn't quite a true islander, despite having been born and raised in the islands. And I was university educated. And I didn't believe in the island gods and magic. And finally, she wasn't pointing at me. That said, I could not say what had just happened. It didn't seem like one needed to believe in magic, for magic to work...

Dropping her arm, the woman, the alleged sorceress, turned to us. 'Is your offer still open?'

'Ah, yes... Yes, of course,' I stammered, and glanced back to Bril. I was, after all, only a passenger. 'I'm right, aren't I, Mr. Bril?'

Luckily, Bril, likely as stunned as I was by what had just happened, was an Aerlonian, and viewed island superstition with either humor or disdain. He merely nodded "Yes" absently, adding, grimly, 'That's what we're here for.'

That was good enough for me – especially since I didn't think we really had an alternative.

'Right, then, let's get everyone on board,' I said, as brightly as I could, turning back to the sorceress. 'And the sooner the better. We want to be on our way before the Banjars find their courage again.' I braced a foot on the gunwale and held out my free hand to help haul the crew onboard.

She nodded and turned to her crew with a nod. They stood, and, as she slowly named her crew, three men and two woman, one by one, they grabbed their kit bags and jumped down to the narrow, wave washed deck, and crossed it in a bound or two. I helped each to climb aboard with my free hand. Each gave a nod of thanks and settled on the nearest bench or in the hollow behind me.

The slender sorceress was the last to collect her kit and, timing her jump to the swell, she landed on the deck, just as an armorfish, half the length of our boat, leaped straight out of the sea behind Bril to land on the wreck's deck with a thump and a mighty splash. With its many teethed jaws wide open, it swooshed across the slippery deck towards the sorceress.

She made a desperate leap for the boat. I abandoned the boathook to free both hands and caught her by the waist, lifting her up, over my head, hoping to get her clear of the snapping jaws of the armorfish. I staggered back and twisted to avoid going over the other side of the boat, to collapse into the collective laps and kit bags of her crew around me. She landed on top of me – her damp chest on my face.

She quickly pushed off, her hands on my shoulders, to scowl down at me with her cold blue-green eyes for a second or two.

I smiled, and asked, a bit breathlessly, 'Still have all ten toes?'

'Yes,' she replied, coldly, without a smile, and rolled off of me to take a seat with her crew, who quickly made room on the bench for her.

'Are you done having fun up there, Lieutenant?' called out Bril, as I sat up and took a seat facing aft at the very bow of the boat.

'I believe so. Home, Mr. Bril,' I replied cheerfully, much relieved that we had carried off the rescue against all odds. I settled back as we pushed off the wreck, and took in the mythical Ventes – if indeed that was who and what they were. They looked no different than any other islander.

I beamed a friendly smile at the six waterlogged survivors sitting silently on the benches and crouching before me, and asked, 'Victims of the typhoon, I take it?'

The sorceress gave me one withering look of disdain with her cold blue-green eyes for uttering such an inane question, and looked away and back towards the wreck.

The fellow by the name of Vara, who may have been the captain of the yacht, replied quietly, 'The storm was mostly to the south of us. Still, we were making for shelter along a white-water reef, looking for a passage into the lagoon of yonder island, when a white squall struck us with great force, driving us over the reef and into the lagoon, taking off our mast in the process. Before we could clear the wreckage and get some steerage, the squall drove us across the lagoon and over the reef once more, this time taking out a large section of our bottom hull. We managed to lighten the boat, and get a couple of lines around the hull to hold it together and stay afloat all night. Luckily you came along, so we haven't suffered all that much.'

I nodded sadly. 'Ill luck and good luck. The hazards of the sea. I appreciate your loss. Still, you're alive and safe,' I added with an encouraging smile. 'And you've nothing more to worry about. The Aerlonian Navy base on Fey Lon has a fund to see that shipwrecked and stranded mariners get home.' Though, if they were actual Vente Islanders, that might prove difficult. But that was a problem – and perhaps an opportunity – for another day. It may also explain why my assurances didn't seem to cheer them up. Still, I suppose returning home, no matter what island home it may be, without the yacht you set out in, was never going to be all that happy of a return. It was, however, better than being a lump in an armorfish's belly.

'Oh, by the way, my name is Taef Lang, Lieutenant, LT, Aerlonia Navy. I'm actually just a passenger aboard the Island Crown, on my way to Fey Lon. I'll be happy to look after matters concerning your return when we arrive.'

Vara nodded, glancing to the sorceress, who continued to stare back at the wallowing wreck.

I decided to play the Aerlonian, and fain ignorance of islands myths. So I looked to the sorceress, and asked, 'How did you do that? To the Banjars, I mean. Just pointing at them... It was like magic,' I added with a forced laugh. And then adding, authentically curious, 'It wasn't magic, was it?'

She ignored the question. But I continued on, nevertheless.

'Did you really kill them? Not that I blame you. You would've ended up as slaves or worse. And to be honest, I don't know what we could've done to prevent them from taking you, if you hadn't sent them packing. Captain Wera would not have needed much of an excuse to sink the Banjar ship, but we would've all been feeding the armorfish by then, so I guess we all owe you a debt of gratitude,' I said, rambling on, to no effect.

I looked to Vara, and the rest. They offered to add nothing more, taking their cue from the sorceress.

Still, undaunted, I said, 'Well, we have Vara and Muse, Hiks, Kin, and Ade, here.' I nodded to each in turn, and then returned to the sorceress with a smile, 'But I don't know your name, ah... Miss?' I didn't dare to call her a sorceress to her face.

She ignored me.

So I laughed and added, 'Oh, well, I suppose we've already met.'

She turned her head and focused her cold gaze on me for a chilling moment or two. Thankfully she didn't point at me, but I had the feeling she was fighting that urge. Finally she said, scornfully, 'Forgive us. We have suffered a very exhausting experience and are not in the mood for palaver. You can interrogate us once we have time to recover.'

'Of course. Sorry. I was, actually, just trying to make polite conversation,' I said, contritely. 'But, as you say, we'll have time enough to chat once you've rested.'

Which was wishful thinking, as it turned out.

Chapter 02 Harbor, A Favor, Duty, and Home

01

'A word with you, Lieutenant,' said Captain Wera, as we rose from our midday meal.

He led me out on to the deck, and up the several flights of stairs to the navigation bridge. Our new passengers, having eaten earlier, were now lounging in deck chairs on the bridge deck below us.

'What do you make of them?'

I shrugged. 'Not a very talkative lot. I can't tell you much of anything.'

'Humpf...What exactly happened on the wreck?'

I told him.

'How'd she do it?

'I've no idea. Magic is as good an explanation as any.'

'You don't believe that, do you?'

'I don't. But then again, I've yet to come up with a better explanation.'

He "humpf"-ed again. 'Are they the Vente islanders that our islander crewmen claim they are?'

'There are several island versions of the Vente, sir. In the children's version, the Ventes are often described as demons to scare naughty children into behaving. We can dismiss that one. There also is the more grown up version, though is still fanciful. In that version, the Ventes are wielders of magic, members of the large pantheon of island demons and gods, as powerful sorcerers.

'However, remarkably enough, given their mythical reputation, the Vente Islands do, in fact, exist. They're an island principality off the southwest coast of Norterra. There's a thin file on them at the Admiralty which I happened to browse through, one quiet afternoon. It contained mostly hearsay. The usual legends collected from throughout the islands, and a few brief comments by continental explorers who made it to their islands one way or another. They never got beyond the fringe islands, since they were warned off by very credible threats, threats that did not rely on magic. A very secretive people, it seems.'

'Humpf. Pretty far from home, if they are Ventes.'

'True. Nearly 4000 kilometers. That's hard to explain. Naughty children can't be all that rare in the islands,' I added with a smile.

Wera gave me a dark look.

'Well, you probably had more words with the so-called sorceress than I. What do you think?' I asked.

'She paid for her crew's passage with a gold coin, so I guess I don't have to think too hard.' He pulled the small gold coin from his vest pocket and handed it to me. 'Recognize it?'

I studied it, and handed it back to him. 'I believe Mira is the dynastic name of the Princes of the Kinjini Islands. They're another northern continent island group, so that would fit the Vente theory.'

'Humpf.' he said. 'Could they be pirates? Do we need to keep an eye on them? I don't want to wake up one night with my throat cut.'

'I don't think you need worry too much. The Ventes are not known to be pirates. Nor do pirates go cruising in 12 meter yachts.'

'All pirates have to do is get a band onboard a ship, and then, in the dark of the night, they spread out and start cutting throats – or do whatever she did to those Banjars. Find out all you can about them.'

'Yes, sir. I'll try. Still, they paid for their passage, and she had a very good reason for doing whatever she did, so I don't think that you have anything to worry about.'

'I wasn't worried,' he replied shortly. 'I'm simply doing my duty and looking after the safety of my ship. Keep an eye on them and see what you can find out about them. You've got nothing better to do. Let me know if you think I need to take precautions,' he added, and dismissed me with a nod.

'Aye, aye, sir,' I replied, and with a smile, headed down to the bridge deck to look in on my new fellow passengers. As a matter of fact, I had two professions at present. Both would have me trying find out more about these rumored Vente, even without Captain Wera's, ah, request.

My real profession was that of an archaeologist. At least, I had a degree in archaeology – the study of the non-written history of the world that the Founders called Dara – with my name on it. I hoped, when I finished my current, and temporary profession, to find a place in my field, and specialize in the non-written history of the Tropic Sea islanders, since I was an islander. Or rather, half of one. I am the son and grandson of Aerlonian merchants who operate a chain of general merchandise stores in the Merkara and Fey Lon Islands. However, I was born and grew up on Lil Lon Island, a small island just off the coast of Fey Lon Island, and as such, I grew up pretty much island fashion.

However, being born of Aerlonian born parents, I'm considered a citizen of Aerlonia. As such, my father, with a daughter and a son both expressing interest in joining him in the mercantile business, was happy to send me off to the University of Layfarm on the continent of Aerlonia, if only to reinforce our Aerlonian heritage.

And so, with my professional, and personal, interest in Tropic Sea island history and culture, the chance to interview people from the most secretive of the island cultures was a gift of the islands gods. And with less than three days to interview them, so I didn't need Captain Wera's request to get to know them.

They were also people of interest in my current, and temporary profession as a lieutenant, limited time, in the Aerlonian navy's "political" department, which is to say, intelligence, liaison, and covert operations.

After graduation from Layfarm, I decided, perhaps unwisely, to fulfill my entire lifelong civic service requirement, as an Aerlonian citizen, by signing up for a four year stint in the Aerlonian Navy. I hoped to serve my four years sailing in the Tropic Sea amongst the islands that I wanted to spend my life studying. However, with my university degree, I was signed on as an ensign LT and the navy does not feel it is worth its time to make a seagoing officer out of a limited time officer. So I was assigned to duties as a file clerk at the Admiralty in Kanadora, Aerlonia's capital city.

I would like to believe, but knowing the navy as I do, I doubt, that my assignment to Admiral Ply's Department Seven, and specifically its Section 3, Tropic Sea Section, was due to my academic qualifications or the fact that I was island born. However, my knowledge of the islands, as an islander and as a scholar of the islands, quickly earned me a promotion to a lieutenant, LT, as an "operations analyst." The job largely consisted of condensing field reports into briefing papers for those above my rank and pay scale. The work was sometimes interesting, sometimes boring, and sadly, disconcerting.

I quickly discovered that I was dealing with the records of a secret war between the two great southern continents of Aerlonia and Feldara. Both continental nations embraced the Founding Principles, which included the nonviolent settlement of disputes – in principle. And in everyday life, the two continents had been at peace for more than two hundred years. However, in the islands, they were financing, and encouraging wars and raids by islanders, in order to advance their national interests – who, truth be told, needed no encouragement to raid and war.

There are well over 10,000 islands in the Tropic Seas ruled by thousands of princes and tribal chiefs. There are more than 137 island empires ruling five to several hundred islands, each island with its subordinate princes. Alas, the guiding principles of the Founders are not carefully observed in the islands and raiding has always been part of the island way of life. This tradition was now being using in a proxy war between the two continents in order to gain control of the Tropic Sea as a precondition to claiming, and settling, the untamed northern continent, Norterra. As an Aerlonian, I found this disheartening. As an islander, I was angered and embarrassed that our darkest passions were being so easily stroked and enabled. And, as a student of island history, I knew that Island princes could never be trusted to remain loyal in the face of a better offer from the other side, so that it promised to be an expensive and endless war.

However, after more than two years working in Section 3, I managed to snag a Section 3 field appointment as an intelligence agent in the Fey Lon Islands. The base was actually located on my home island of Lil Lon. While I didn't relish taking a slightly more active part in the proxy war, the Fey Lon island empire was a quiet backwater of that secret war, so I decided I could do it without too much guilt.

So, in light of my commission as an intelligence agent, of sorts, our shipwrecked passengers offered an opportunity to fatten up that thin file of the Vente Islands back at the Admiralty. And, in doing so, arrive with something of an intelligence coup to impress my new chief.

With all this in mind, I walked back to the bridge deck where the alleged Vente were lounging in canvas deck chairs in the bright, hot sun. The still unnamed sorceress seemed to have fallen asleep. Her hat was held in her hands on her lap. Her pale, sand colored hair was blowing across her face in the breeze. Her eyes were closed, and in sleep, her closed and cold expression had faded to reveal a rather pretty face – high cheekbones, a wide forehead and mouth, all rather regal. The face of a proud sorceress. Vara was watching me, warily, from the chair next to hers. I decided that my investigation could wait until they had recovered from their ordeal, so I merely nodded to him, and moved on.

Little did I know then, that I had seen the sorceress at her best, and would learn little more than what I knew then.

I'll state simply, my best efforts to find something, indeed, anything about the new passengers over the following two days were a failure. The best I could do was engage them in general conversations on commonplace island topics, and then, only when the sorceress wasn't around. Like it or not, they learned a lot more about me, as I tried to prime the pump, so to speak, but, as I said, to little avail. One of the women crew members, Kin, would talk island cooking; ingredients, spices, dishes, island specific recipes – something we both had an interest in. I at least, because I was missing island food after nearly seven years on the continent.

I had not even that much success with the sorceress. Awake, she wore a cold, guarded expression, which, in my presence turned to a scowl, as if she was barely holding back her impatience to be rid of me. Maybe she never forgave me for my stupid question. And well, to be honest, I found her too unpleasant to be worth the trouble, so I was content to pass the time in idle, and largely useless conversations, with her companions, when I could catch them out of her company.

And so, my mission to learn the secrets of the Vente ended in almost complete failure. Almost, only because I got interesting sounding recipe for "three pepper, fire-roasted, chicken" from Kin.

That, and the fact that we didn't wake up with our throats cut.

02

It was an unexpected mix of emotions that the roadstead of Fey Lon – a reef sheltered lagoon between the big island of Fey Lon and its little sister island, Lil Lon – evoked in me, as the Island Crown slowly glided between the two tall beacon towers marking the passage through the eastern reef between the islands. With no breeze, save a whisper from the Island Crown's walking pace, the heat, the moisture, the smells of jungles, smoke, spices, rot, and the seashore met me as old, long lost friends.

To the north lay the large island of Fey Lon, which stretched more than a hundred kilometers to the northwest. Close at hand, its capital city of the same name clung to the steep foothill of an ancient volcanic crater rim. Its tree-lined streets wound up to the tall, lava peaks, black rock and clinging green jungle. To the south lay the small island of Lil Lon, some three kilometers in length. It also had a volcanic peak and a small town of foreigners and traders clinging to its steep foothill. Like Fey Lon, its city was almost hidden in a tamed jungle. The remainder of the volcanic rim had fallen into the crater to give Fey Lon's lagoon a bottom and two low breakwaters and submerged reef on both sides.

The islands, in the yellowing light of the sinking sun and the deepening purple shadows, not only dredged up seven year old memories, but uncertainties as well. I leaned back against the steel wall of the saloon under the bridge deck and explored my feelings. It had been nearly seven years since I sailed from this harbor for the continent. And while the harbor, and my old life growing up here, had not aged in my memory, those seven years would had, no doubt, left their mark on my family, friends, and everyone I knew here. And me, as well. What would I find here, now?

I was slightly apprehensive about my new posting as well. After spending the last two years compiling and filing intelligence reports from the islands, I'd a good idea of what would be expected of me. My apprehension likely stemmed from the uncertainty of how I would fit in. The political office of Fey Lon's naval base was not large, four officers under a Captain Falaer Char and an administrative staff of three. If personalities clashed, it could be a long eighteen months.

And lastly, I was feeling my failure with our shipwrecked islanders. The sorceress had briskly dismissed any offer of aid from the Aerlonian navy, saying that they would make their own way home, so even that avenue of information was closed to me. And with that failure, my initial hopes of starting my new posting with an intelligence coup died. Indeed, I couldn't even say for certain that they were Ventes. All I could do now was tell an unbelievable story about a sorceress killing pirates by pointing at them. I didn't know how well that would go over with my new chief.

The sound of the engines changed – full astern, killing the last of our motion. And then a sudden silence as the engines ceased to pound, followed by a great rattling forward as the Island Crown dropped its anchor, to join the three other continental steamships, and a single, light grey navy steam-frigate in the deep water roadstead. The now silent ship shuddered slightly as the anchor took hold. And as it began to leisurely swing about, I could hear Mr. Derth call the deck crew over to rig the gangplank ladder.

I heaved myself fully upright, with the idea of collecting my kit and catching the first bumboat for the naval dock. It was past dinner time, but I'd best report to someone at the base before climbing further up the hill to the town, and my childhood home. Glancing across the deck, I saw the three Ventes, who had been taking in the sights, suddenly start and call softly to the other two on the other side of the deck. When they arrived, one of them seemed to point discreetly to the Lil Lon side of the harbor, where dozens of island boats of all sizes, lighters, and barges bobbed at anchor. I stepped over to the bulwark to see what had sparked their interest. By the time they had to walk over to the other side of the ship as it completed its slow arc and tugged once again against the anchor, I felt that I had found what they were very interested in – a twelve meter, single masted, single hulled yacht with a dark green hull with a polished teywood half-height cabin that ran from the forecastle nearly the full length of the boat. In short, the sister ship of the wreck we'd taken them off of. In a harbor of perhaps a hundred boats and ships, it matched none of them in style and colors, suggesting, but not proving, that it hailed from some distant island. Perhaps Captain Char might find that interesting enough...

Time to get moving. I turned and climbed the stairs and stepped around to my cabin. Inside, I donned my light uniform jacket and cap, slung my kit over my shoulder, and with one last look about, went out and back down to the main deck where the deck crew was securing the steep stairs and small landing stage at the waterline.

'That anxious to leave us?' asked Mr. Derth, as I arrived.

'I'm home, Bere. And I have a new chief to report to. I don't know if she's still on duty – it looks to be past dinner time – but I think it pays to look eager on arrival, even if she isn't at her desk.'

'Aye,' he nodded, and returned to his task. 'We'll have it rigged in a minute or two more – if you gentlemen put your backs to it!' he added in a sharp loud voice towards crew members who were swinging the little landing platform out and over side.

'A word with you,' said a quiet voice from behind me.

Turning around I found not the captain, but the sorceress in the shadows, looking as dour as ever. 'Of course. At your service,' I replied, trying, but failing, not to sound surprised.

Without another word, she turned away and started for the far side of the ship. I set my kit down and followed her, across and then up the steep ladder to the cabin deck. Once in the shadows of the passageway she stopped and turned to me.

'I have a question for you.'

I nodded. 'Fire away.'

'I understand that you're reporting for duty at the naval base here.'

'Correct.'

'For how long? How long will you be here?'

'I've eighteen months of service yet to serve. I expect to serve them here.'

'Will you be here, on this island, all of that time, or will you be at sea most of that time?'

'Can't say for certain where my duties will take me. I am, however, more or less a clerk and not a ship's officer, so that I expect to spend most, if not all, of my remaining time here on shore.' I could have inserted a question of my own like "Why do you ask?" But I had a feeling that giving this information freely would buy me more answers than questions would.

She considered me with her icy, blue-green eyes, for several seconds in silence. I waited.

'Will you do me a favor?' she asked, with a little wince, as if it hurt. As it probably did.

'Yes, of course,' I replied, without hesitation. From my training I knew that it was always useful for an intelligence agent to have people in your debt. A debt that you might need to call in someday. Not that I expected to have any need to call in any debts. As a limited time lieutenant, I'd likely be tasked with no more than collecting gossip from merchant traders and travelers, and writing up reports that would eventually end up in Section 3 – where my replacement would read and file them away, as I had done for the last two years. But you never know.

'No questions?' she asked, suspiciously.

'Only one for now. Your name. Later, well, I'll expect some answers, depending on the nature of this favor.'

She considered me with another long scowling look. 'Lessie.'

'Ah, Lessie, ah...?'

'Just Lessie.'

'I should've driven a harder bargain,' I said, with a grin. I should've. 'Oh, well. What can I do for you?'

She lifted a hand to her neck and drew a golden cylinder on a chain out from under her blouse. She lifted it over her head to hold it in her hand and consider it in silence for several long seconds. It looked to be some ten centimeters in length and two in diameter, and it was engraved in a complex decorative pattern – not with any characteristic design I could put an island culture to. The chain ran through a hole through the very top of the cylinder.

'Keep this for me,' she said suddenly thrusting the golden cylinder to me. 'Keep it well hidden and tell no one about it. Return it only to me, or to a messenger who gives you a coin like this,' she added, drawing an intricately carved shell-coin from her pocket. 'It must match in both design and size. Take this one.'

I took it and the cylinder. The cylinder of gold was not as heavy as I had expected. 'What is it?'

'Nothing you need to concern yourself with,' she snapped, adding, 'It has nothing to do with you, or your country. There is no dishonor in holding it for me.'

'Answers when you come to retrieve it?'

'Some.'

Better than none. 'How long before you return?'

She shrugged impatiently. 'I don't know. It depends... Two, three months, at least. Likely more. I don't know...'

'You realize that I am not my own master. I could be sent away on assignment. Unlikely, but if that happened, I might be away for some time. Do you want me to take this along with me, or should I leave it here for you to collect?'

'It must not be lost,' she snapped, her cold eyes almost flashing.

'Right. Well, lets say that if duty requires my absence from Lil Lon before you return to collect it, I'll leave it with my father in a sealed box with strict instructions for him to turn it over only to someone asking for a box and who shows him the coin that matches this one exactly.'

She scowled and wanted to object. But...

'It can't be helped. But don't worry, I'll hint that it's part of my current profession, which he knows.'

'How can I find your father?'

'We own the Lang Mercantile Store on Lil Lon, the small island across the way. That will make him easy to find. Just ask to speak to the owner, March Lang. Tell him that you're here to collect the box I left with him, and show him the coin.'

She seemed to be barely containing her frustration at this complication, but managed to say nothing as she sought a better solution.

'Or you could simply wait for my return. I can't imagine that I'd be away for more than a month or two. I don't really believe I'll be away at all, but it is best to have a contingency plan.'

She gave me a long, cold look, as if considering just how likely – or unlikely – my return would be if I was sent off on my own. Not likely, seemed to be her conclusion. Still she hesitated.

So I added, 'And when my enlistment is up in eighteen months, I may well return to Aerlonia. So if you're not back before then, I'll either have to leave the box with dad or you'd have to follow me to Aerlonia.'

'Oh, just leave it with your father, if necessary. But you must not tell anyone else about this. No one at all. None of my people, none of yours. No one must know about this. No one. Do we have an understanding?'

I nodded, 'Yes. This is our secret. Ours alone.'

For some reason she gave me a doubtful look, but nodded. 'Our secret,' she said, closing my hand over the cylinder with her cool hand. And with that, she turned and stalked off down the passageway.

I watched her go. When she disappeared into her cabin, I opened my hand, considered my promise, sighed, and draped the chain over my head, slipped the gold cylinder under my shirt, and pocketed the shell-coin.

'What has curiosity gotten you into, Taef Lang?' I asked myself. 'Trouble,' I replied, with unnerving certainty.

03

I said my goodbyes to Captain Wera and the crew and made my way down the gangplank ladder to one of the several waiting bumboats. As I settled into the broad boat, I said to the boatman, 'Naval wharf, mate.'

'Aye, mate,' he replied and set his boat gliding across the smooth, gently heaving surface of the lagoon harbor – a dark mirror of the gold and deep green island before us – with a slow sweep of his oar.

The three other steamships anchored in the deep water roadstead were surrounded by the lighters and barges that transferred cargoes between ship and shore. They were idle now. Islanders, unlike their continental cousins, don't care to work around the clock. Islanders believe in tomorrow, so all the stevedores were now enjoying their evening meal, or relaxing with a glass of island beer while it was being prepared.

There was a large, soot stained coaling hulk, looking like a giant black bug with its unruly array of cranes, anchored on Fey Lon side of the deep water lagoon. A second one, the Aerlonian naval coaling station, floated on the Lil Lon side, along with the three Aerlonian naval store ships anchored in a neat row. Dozens of island trading ships and boats lay at anchor before us. Beyond them, a ragged collection of floating wharves and harbor side dives lined both shores. Above the Lil Lon wharves, at the top of a neat green lawn that rose 100 meters up the island's steep hillside, stood the Aerlonian Navy headquarters – a wide island style building with a two story veranda. It was framed by elegant clumps of pale stemmed battoo trees and stood against a dark backdrop of a deep green tamed jungle. I could see that a few lights were still on.

It was all so familiar – the sights, the smells, the sounds of the little lapping waves, creak of the slowly swinging masts of the boats about us, and the ruckus calls of the harbor birds overhead. Nothing was out of place. Nothing had changed. The island way of life was entirely intact and as I remembered it. What could go wrong?

But I had a spot of business to attend to before I reported in, so I turned to the boatman and pointed ahead, 'See that green hulled foreign looking yacht?'

He peered ahead and nodded, 'Aye, mate.'

'Take us close around her stern, slowly. I want a look at her.'

He nodded and altered our course slightly.

Now, given the subtle electricity in the air among our shipwrecked passengers since they saw the green hulled yacht in the harbor, I couldn't help but feel a sort of prickling on the back of my neck from their eyes as we altered course towards this green hulled yacht. Looking ahead, there were two nondescript crew members on the deck of the yacht looking my way. I couldn't tell if they were watching our approach, or staring at their fellow islanders aboard the Island Crown behind us. In any event, I saw no reason why I should care. All I wanted was a closer look at the yacht, thinking that it might provide a few details as to its origin – a home ports or name that might hint of it. I also made a point to try to memorize the style of the flowing gold paintwork that decorated the bow, stern, and deck line of the hull. All of this was just basic intelligence work. Little details can sometimes tell big stories.

Amber light flowed from the cabin portholes and out its aft hatchway into the cockpit in the stern of the yacht. I'd seen five figures from the Island Crown, but the rest proved to be shy and failed to join the two on deck as we slowly glided within several meters of the yacht's stern.

I lifted my cap to them. 'Beautiful evening, isn't it mates?'

They replied with a suspicious glare. However, they didn't point their arms at me, so I passed by without incident. I was disappointed, but not surprised to find no ship's name or port painted on the stern, only the flowing gilded lines; I still counted the encounter on the plus column.

Once through the anchored boats, the boatman brought his boat alongside the floating naval wharf. I handed him his fee, and shouldering my kit, climbed the short ladder to its deck. At the land end of the wharf I saluted the guard and started up the steep, seashell paved walkway that stretched up the long hill to the administrative building. I walked a bit unsteadily – still feeling the phantom waves from a dozen days at sea – as I slowly made my way up the unmoving hill. I was hot and sweating by the time I reached my first stop, the gatehouse three quarters of the way up the slope. Clearly, I was seven years older and seven years out of the heat of islands.

'Lieutenant LT Taef Lang reporting for duty,' I said to the young ensign manning the gatehouse.

He returned my salute absently, adding as he consulted his roster papers, 'Welcome aboard, sir. Ah, yes, you're on the list. One of Captain Char's crew, I see.'

'Aye. Just off the Island Crown. Who should I report to?'

He glanced up the hill. 'I see a light in Captain Char's office, so I suspect she's still working, so you can report directly to her. Otherwise, just leave your name at the desk and turn up tomorrow morning some time.'

Ah, the island way of life! Amazing how fast it even seeps into the navy.

'Thank you, ensign. I think I'll catch my breath a moment before continuing on. I find that I'm still at sea as well.'

'Take your time. No one hurries on the island,' he replied with a grin.

'I'll have to relearn that. But I think I can...' And we gossiped a bit. I shared some of my past here on the island, while he, some of the base and officer gossip. Again, just basic intelligence work – learning what I might expect, in this case, nothing alarming.

Having caught my breath, I said goodbye and, shouldering my kit bag once more, started up the seashell gravel walk once more. Crunch, crunch, it softly whispered with my weary footfalls.

Building the administrative building 100 meters up a steep hill was blasted inconvenient. But prudent. Well, overly prudent. There are some 2130 islands in the Tropic Sea (the number varies by the week) having either an active or lightly sleeping volcano on them. And it is estimated that there are as many still under the sea that could explode at any given time as well. As a result, tsunamis are common – a three to five meter surge is almost a monthly occurrence in some parts of the Tropic Sea, and yearly in all. Ten, twenty, or thirty meter surges happen often enough that if you die an old man or woman, you'll have experienced several of them. It is for this reason that every port floats – docks, wharves, warehouses, and even shipyards are built on rafts and secured on long, heavy chains to survive all but the rarest and greatest tsunami. And that is the reason why every permanent building is built at least fifty meters above sea level. And that is why I was once more out of breath when I reached the wide paved terrace of the administrative building and had to stop to catch it again before reporting.

I turned, dropped my kit, and once more fanning myself with my cap, drank in the view over the harbor lagoon, to the large island, and the city of Fey Lon. It was the capital of the Principality of Fey Lon, an island empire of some 123 islands in a roughly hundred kilometer circle around Fey Lon Island. The orange roofed city of Fey Lon wrapped itself up and around the hill at the foot of a steep, jungle draped ridge fragment. It, however, wasn't quite as prudent as the Aerlonian Navy, since its buildings began within 50 meters of sea level and rose in terraces and tree-lined streets to its crowning feature, the wide, rambling, white stucco, orange roofed, palace fortress of the Prince of Fey Lon. Looking off to the northwest, Fey Lon Island stretched into the distance as a row of five jungle clad volcanic peaks that faded into the yellow-orange haze of the low, setting sun. A patchwork of green fields and jungles stretched up from the sea to the steep foothills of the volcanic peaks. They were now tinted a mix of ruddy orange, in the fading light of the day, and velvet purple, in the shadows of the approaching night.

Below me, black and white seabirds wove invisible webs over the anchored ships and boats in the harbor, their harsh cries faint but distinct. Overhead the liquid calls of the soaring night hawks broke the stillness, while from behind me came the soft songs of the jungle birds of Lil Lon's yards and gardens, all of which only enhanced the stillness of the falling night.

I mopped my face with my handkerchief, settled my cap on my head once more, slung my kit over my shoulder, and turning, crossed the terrace to push through the wide paneled doors. It was slightly cooler inside, and dimly lit by a lamp at the reception desk at the center of the wide central hall that ran the width of the building. It was manned by a solitary duty officer, a lieutenant, who looked up from his novel as I entered.

'What can I do for you?' he asked, closing his book and giving me a curious look, no doubt trying and failing to identify me.

I put down my kit, gave him a salute, just to be on the right side, and identified myself, adding, 'I'm just off the Island Crown. I thought I'd best report in straightaway, just to start my assignment on the right foot.'

He nodded, and pulled out his roster. 'Ah, one of the spy chappies. Captain Char hasn't come down yet, so you can report directly to her. Room 211. Up the stairs to your right,' he added with a nod of his head.

'Right. Thanks. Can I stow my kit here for a bit?'

He nodded yes, so I left it and started up the wide stone staircase. Room 211 was the only doorway along the long corridor with a faint patch of light from inside before it, so it was easy to find.

The main room contained six desks. The outer wall consisted of floor to ceiling glass paned doors that opened out onto the veranda, and offered a view of Fey Lon across the harbor. The light was coming from a small office off to one side.

Captain Falaer Char was working at her desk by the light of one dim electric lamp. She was probably a woman of those ageless middle years, but in the light, her face was shadowed, lined and drawn.

Sensing my presence, she looked up from her papers.

'Good evening, Captain,' I said, and saluting, added 'Lieutenant LT Taef Lang reporting for duty. sir.'

She leaned back in her chair. It creaked. And gave me an "island salute" – a halfhearted effort to salute that ended up most as a little wave of the hand. She looked me over. 'Welcome aboard Lieutenant. Just arrived?'

'Yes, sir. From the Island Crown.'

'So you survived the typhoon.'

'Aye, It just brushed by us. Even so, I'd much rather have been snug on the lee of a large island than to have been aboard the Island Crown.'

She nodded, and searched her desk for one of the papers. Finding it, she glanced over it before saying, 'You're a native of Lil Lon.'

'Yes, sir. Born and raised here, though it's been seven years since I've been back, except for a few short breaks from school.'

'Have a family here?'

'Yes, sir. Lang Mercantile.'

'Ah, yes, of course. Seen them yet?'

'No sir. Wanted to report in first, sir.'

'Good. Well, it's late. I'm about to wrap things up. Why don't you report to me tomorrow... Let's say at ten, after I've had a chance to make my morning report. We can get you set up then. Planning on living at home?'

'Ah, I think not, sir. I may look in for dinner, but, well, it has been seven years, and I've grown up a bit since then...'

She gave me a little smile. 'Yes, I hope you have. Right. Until tomorrow, Lang.'

I hesitated a moment, but decided to ignore that dismissal. 'Ah, Captain, can I ask you a question?'

'I suppose,' with a sigh.

'Have you ever encountered a Vente islander? They're the stuff of legends and children's nightmares here in the islands, but they actually do exist. I looked up their file at the Admiralty. The most reliable accounts claim that they inhabit a group of islands off the a western coast of Norterra.'

'Is there a reason for this question, Lang?'

'Yes. The day after the typhoon, we picked six shipwrecked sailors off a waterlogged 12 meter boat. I have some reason to believe they might be Vente islanders. That, at least, was the conclusion the islanders of the Island Crown came to. The reason I bring this up, is that they may still be aboard the Island Crown, and I suspect that there is another Vente – if that is what they are – yacht in the harbor. They seemed to recognize it, and the boat struck me much like the wrecked yacht we took them off two days ago.'

'They're the supposed magic wielding sorcerers, aren't they?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Did they use any magic?'

'Well, sir. I'd have trouble explaining what we witnessed in any other way – though I'm sure there must be some explanation other than magic. But either way, it was, well, something hard to explain.'

'And you want me to...?'

'I don't think there is anything we can do. I just wondered it you cared to look them over, or at least have a look at their yacht. You can see it from the veranda. I doubt they'll be here long.'

She sighed, pushing her chair away from her desk and grabbing a pair of binoculars off one of the filing cabinets, sighed, 'This magic you saw. What was it?'

'I'll show you their boat, and make my report,' I said as I followed her out though the open glass doors onto the balcony. I pointed out the Island Crown, and added, 'I think that bumboat has the possible Vente islanders aboard...'

'There's another pair of binoculars in the top drawer of the first filing cabinet,' she said.

The bumboat with Ventes aboard had nearly reached the yacht by the time I was back with the glasses and had them in focus. I recognized the sandy haired Lessie as she led her crew aboard.. She was met by someone who briefly embraced her and then they ducked down into the cabin.

As I had predicted, as soon as the shipwrecked sailors were aboard, they began to clear the yacht to sail. As we watched, I made my report. Captain Char made no comment as I talked. '... I am sorry that I can tell you no more about them, than that. They kept largely to themselves these last three days. And when I did manage to draw them into any conversation, they would say nothing about themselves. And I didn't have any reason or authority to question them...'

'Yes, Lieutenant.'

'I have, however, tried to memorize the style of their yacht's decoration that might make identifying them in the future easier.'

'Very good, Lieutenant,' she said, rather wearily. I wasn't certain of what type of impression I was making with her.

By the time I'd come to an end with my tale, the Ventes had hauled in their anchor, hoisted their batten sail, and began to ease their way through the crowded inshore anchorage for the deep water and the twin towers that marked the passage through the western breakwater and reef.

Suddenly it struck me as I watched the yacht glide over the smooth dark waters, 'There is no wind to speak of, Captain.'

'Yes, Lieutenant. More magic?' She gave me a sidelong look.

'Ah, they must have some sort of engine,' I said, 'Though...'

'Yes, Lieutenant?'

'Well, I rather doubt that the wreck we came upon had an engine still on board. I thought it was floating on the buoyancy of its wood construction alone. Though the Vara fellow, who I believe was the yacht's captain, did say that the reef they were driven over took off the bottom of the boat. Perhaps they lost it then, or managed to throw it, and everything else overboard, before the weight sunk the ship... But then, if they had a motor onboard, they must have been rather careless to be caught in the sudden squall...'

She gave me another sidelong look, and sighed. 'You can put it all in your report tomorrow. It is getting late. Go home. See your folks and family.'

'Yes, sir.'

'You did say that the Banjar ship was the Bird-of-night didn't you?' she said as I turned to leave.

I nodded, 'Yes, sir.'

'Good night, Lang.'

'Good night, Captain.'

I had said nothing about the little gold cylinder that hung on my chest, and felt a bit guilty about that. I told myself that it was a personal affair, and that in the end, I hoped to learn a lot more about the Ventes when "Just Lessie" returned to fetch it. The end would hopefully justify the means.

I collected my kit, and continued up the hill in the swiftly falling night, to the gravel road above the administration building. I turned left and followed it around to the island's west side where it turned into Lil Lon's wide main street. I passed the Lang Mercantile building – dark, of course – in the middle of the single long block and continued on to the next side street, and then zigzagged my way up several more streets to Nirivara Street and the big Lang bungalow "Seaview" on the steep hill which, indeed, offered a view of the Tropic Sea stretching to the west.

Because my sailing arrangements were up in the air to the point where any letter would probably have traveled with me aboard the Island Crown, I had not let my family know of my return. This made my appearance a complete surprise to my folks, my younger brother, and sister. I had arrived just before dinner was ready, so my timing was perfect. And within minutes, I was home, and perhaps to my surprise, it felt right.

Late that night, sitting at my old desk in my childhood bedroom, I pulled out the golden cylinder from under my shirt and laid it on my desk in the small circle of light from the Batto nut oil lamp. Next to me, on the faintly illuminated bookshelf was my complete collection of 23 "Zar Lada, Island Explorer" books. More than any other single source, young Zar Lada's fantastic adventures amongst the islands of the Tropic Seas, featuring stories of haunted islands, lost civilizations, Founders' ruins, cursed temples, savage people and animals, and treasures, had sparked my interest in archaeology. I would, however, never have guessed that upon my return to the islands – as an adult, no less – I would find myself dealing with a sorceress and a mysterious golden cylinder. I wasn't Zar Lada, but between my studies and the Vente, I seemed to be tasting a little of the life I had dreamed of as a boy. I had to chuckle and shake my head at my good fortune.

I studied the cylinder's engravings. They did not seem to be in any of the island decorative styles I had studied. But, interesting enough, had a certain Founders' look to them, a certain logical precision, though what that purported, I must admit, escaped me.

It wasn't heavy enough to be solid, and when I shook it, I'd the impression that something inside moved ever so slightly.

I considered my promise, and decided that I'd made no promise not to have a peek at what it contained. However, try as I might, I could find no way to open it and dared not make any effort that might show that I had tried. An hour and a half later, and now, too tired to care, I gave up. I placed it, and the shell coin, in an old box I found in my desk drawer. I then slipped that box into my childhood hiding place – a hollow under a loose floor board in my bedroom closet. My naval quarters would be small, bare, subject to inspection, and in island fashion, not particularly secure, so it was far better to keep it hidden in my old bedroom until called for.

Chapter 03 Sella Raah

01

Throughout the long reign of its current Prince, the Principality of Fey Lon has been a reliable friend of Aerlonia. As a result, it is well supplied with modern ships and arms that keep rivals well at bay. That means that the long established Aerlonian naval base on Lil Lon is a quiet backwater base. And though its intelligence section no doubt played a role in the shadow war between the continents, that role was above my rank and posting. My assigned duties were neither glamorous, demanding, nor the least bit dangerous. They were hardly work at all.

I had effortlessly slipped into my new posting. Captain Char had far wider responsibilities than keeping a close eye on the two agents assigned to collect shipping information and sailors' gossip. So as long as we, Lieutenant Katha Vine and I, filed our daily reports, we conducted our business largely independent of the naval establishment.

Katha proved to be a young, cheerful, and outgoing career officer, who, like me, was island born. Her mother was an islander and her father, an Aerlonian sailor. As a result, she knew her way around the islands, the harbors, and the sailors who plied the seas between them. We quickly found that we had complimentary tastes. She was a girl who could look after herself, and she enjoyed spending the night in the company of tipsy sailors in the dim-lit harbor dives. And though she offered to split our duties, I assured her, that if she preferred the company of tipsy sailors to the clerical task of recording ship and cargo arrivals, and departures, and talking to ship owners, traders, and captains over iced kaf on the shipping exchange terrace, she was more than welcome to it. She grinned, thanked me, and said that she hoped I wouldn't die of boredom. The next day she took me around to the exchange, introduced me to the brokers, the traders and people in the know, and then cheerfully handed those "boring" people off to me.

Though we went about our business in civilian clothes, there was never any effort on our part to hide our purpose. Spies, we were not. We had a generous allowance to treat our informants to drinks and meals, and within two months, I had become one of those persons to "know" in the trade. I could, and would, gladly exchange useful trade information, acquired from one source, for useful information from another. And since my sources were far more varied than those you'd find on the exchange terrace, I had a lot of useful tidbits to share and barter with.

I started my day at the shipping exchange, writing down arrivals, departures, and the movement of cargoes between the islands. After that, I would meet some of my shipping friends on the exchange's sunny terrace for iced kaf and sweets, and perhaps, with a lunch to follow. I'd then wander down to the harbor and talk to the small traders and ship captains, buying drinks as needed, or sharing some trade gossip that they might find useful. An hour or so before the dinner hour, I'd walk up the long hill to the administration building to write up my daily report. After that, I had my evening free. I would often have dinner at home, sometimes bringing Katha along, who would be just getting ready for her "day" in the dockside bars and saloons of Fey Lon and Lil Lon.

I had been assigned one of the "shanties" on the Western Beach. These shanties were tiny, stilted, double huts that the navy had built to house the unmarried officers. When my mother had objected, saying that I had "a perfectly good and unused bedroom at home," my father laughed and leered at me. He said that I was all grown up now, so that I no doubt had my reasons for not to wanting to live in a comfortable home with the old folks. I didn't dispute that, but after being away for seven years, sadly, I'd no pressing reason for wanting to return to my childhood room, save that, well, you never know.

In any event, Western Beach shanties were considered the best quarters on the island – by the young officers. Their main attraction was that they were nearly a kilometer away from the rest of the naval establishment and our superior officers. They did have several disadvantages. Not only were they tiny, barely furnished, and had a lot of steps to climb, or crawl, to reach them, they were also well below that 100 meter above sea level standard that the administration building had been built to. Or the more common 50 meters. Apparently young, single officers were expendable. Not that we minded. Being both young and single, the freedom they offered was worth the remote chance of being swept away to sea by an extremely rare tsunami. The shanties were not actually on the beach, but set in a batto tree grove on a steep hill, some 15 meters above high tide. And for added safety, they were built on top of five meter tall stilts – a long climb, late at night. It was reported that the bungalows would float if they should be carried off. But then, so would all the other wooden debris. We didn't care. We were young.

Katha and I shared one of the shanties with double quarters. Each side featured a bedroom alcove off a small sitting room. Each had a primitive kitchen in one corner, with an icebox, a batto-nut oil stove, and a sink with water pumped up from the rain water tank beneath the shanty. They shared a wide veranda facing the sea. However, since she worked late into the night, I usually had the entire shanty to myself, all evening long. Like my work, I quickly adapted to living on the beach. The shanties were widely scattered enough that the frequent parties didn't disturb me, when I wasn't attending them. Most evenings I would sit on the veranda looking down through the elegant stands of batto trees, and out, beyond the white sands that stretched to the tumbling waves of the sparkling sea. Sipping a glass of iced kaf, I'd listen to the soft, rhythmic hiss and crash of the surf until I fell asleep in my chair. The island life.

02

I set the tall glass of iced kaf on the small table and settled onto one of the low chairs next to it, deep in the shadows of my shanty's veranda, as usual. Access to ice was considered one of the perks of being in the navy, and on this lush, hot evening – an evening like every other one – it was the navy's chief perk. It wasn't too late, and it wasn't too early, either. Tomorrow would be the first day of the three day holiday celebrating the birthday of the Prince of Fey Lon. And with the exchange closed, I could sleep late.

Islanders believe in celebrating holidays. And lots of them. But to be fair, they usually didn't have routine off days, like Aerlonians do, so it balanced out. Except that island free days tended to be a lot more lively. The highlight of the Prince's Birthday was the hour long fireworks battle on each of the three evenings fought between the city of Fey Lon and its little sister island/town, Lil Lon, in the air over the harbor. The two sides took turns launching rockets over the harbor, each launch featuring a bigger and an ever more elaborate explosion in an effort to top the opposing island's previous one. And each day they launched a more spectacular fireworks than the previous one. Besides the fireworks, the holiday meant that the exchange was closed, ships languished in harbor, and I had all day to wander down to the harbor to see if any trader worth interviewing had arrived. Which was to say that it was even more of a holiday than most days were for me. And so, as I said, it wasn't early and wasn't late, and I wasn't in a hurry to retire to a hot room and my thin, lumpy mattress to sleep.

It had been three months since I had returned to Lil Lon, and I had readjusted to the heat, humidity, and the slow pace of the islands. And I enjoyed my work, such as it was. And I'd came to love my little shanty on the beach.

Katha was on "duty" carousing in some harbor bar. And, it seemed, so were my fellow officers, since all the other shanties were quiet and dark. I had the night and the Western Beach to myself.

It was a black velvet and silver night – moist, hot, and almost windless. A night nearly as liquid and lush as a warm bath. Beyond the veranda railing, the shadows below the tall, arching batto trees were of the deepest of blacks, while the sand, in the light of the two moons was silver-white between the shadows and down to the beach. The sea, beyond the creamy, hissing tumble of surf, was an inky blackness that stretched and sparkled in the moonlight out to where the starry, cloudless night sky fell to the sea. Occasionally, there was a breath of a breeze that shivered the sword-shaped batto leaves and brushed a cool, but invisible hand over my moist face. From the tame jungle that rose up the slope to shops and houses of Lil Lon behind the shanty, the night insects chirped and whistled over the relentless surf curling, crashing, and hissing a retreat. And yet, all one heard was a lush silence.

'Lieutenant Lang?'

I started, and stared about. I may have dozed... I must have dozed, since Irra now hung low on the horizon at the end of a long silver trail. Its silver light faintly illuminated the veranda. And there was a girl peering at me from the steps. She hadn't been there before.

'I'm sorry, did I wake you?' she asked, with a smile, knowing the answer.

'Humm... You may have....' I muttered, rubbing my eyes. I looked at her moonlit face. It almost seemed familiar, but I couldn't place it. 'Ah, have we met? No, of course not. I would've remembered you,' I added, with a smile, that I hoped was charming rather than leering.

She smiled and shook her head no.

So, with a sleepy smile, I climbed to my feet, adding with a wave of my hand,

'Please, come on up. You have indeed found Lieutenant Taef Lang. What can I do for you?'

'My name is Sella Raah,' she said as she stepped onto the veranda and extended her hand in greeting.

I shook it. 'Delighted to meet you.' I was. She was very pretty. She was dressed in a knee length wrap around skirt of many colors – now only shades of greys and silvers in the faint moonlight, with a pale blouse and several light and colorful scarves around her neck and down the front of it. Her hair was long and as black as velvet shadows, with strings of pearls and tiny shells woven through it as it fell past her shoulders. And she had a very pretty, open, friendly, and confident face.

'I'm a writer. Or I want to be one,' she began with a shy smile, lifting the notebook she had in her other hand almost apologetically. 'I am writing a book featuring the mysteries of the islands. I've been traveling the islands collecting stories, and well, trying to sell them to newspapers and magazines as I go. Without too much success just yet...' she shrugged. 'Here and there the odd story...

'Anyway, the reason I'm here tonight is that I understand that you have encountered the legendary sorcerers of the Vente Islands. I've heard several versions of the story and wanted to get the real story. I know it's rather late, but I wanted to call on you when I might find you at home.

'Ah, yes, that...Of course...'

'Did the beautiful Vente sorceress really summon storm clouds with a sweep of her hand and strike down the pirates to a man with bolts of lightning?'

I shook my head no. 'Sorry. You know islanders. They like a very romantic story. I'm afraid the affair was far more mundane than that.'

'I thought it was too good to be true. But she did strike down the pirates, didn't she?'

'Oh, yes, but only four Banjars. That, however, was enough to set the rest of them scrambling for their oars to escape her. However, I can't explain how she did it, so it still is rather mysterious.'

'Please, could you tell me the real, first hand, version of the incident? I'm trying to weed out all invented parts of all the fantastic stories that one hears. I hope to find the true heart of the mysteries and magic of the islands. I want to know if there is any real magic in the stories or are they just heavily embroidered mundane events? So you can understand why I'm eager to talk to you, a true eye witness to Vente magic. And being an Aerlonian naval officer, I know that you'll not embroider the story like the typical islander with all their superstitious ideas about the Vente and their magic powers.'

I shrugged. 'It's unbelievable enough as it is. It doesn't need to be embroidered.'

'Excellent. You're just the sort of person I am looking for. Can you tell me your story?' she said so earnestly, that I could not refuse. Not that I cared to.

'Yes, of course. Please have a seat,' I said with a wave to the second chair. And seeing my glass of kaf on the table between them – the ice had melted – added, 'Would you care for a glass of kaf. I can offer it with ice, courtesy of the navy.'

'That would be wonderful,' she replied with a friendly smile. I liked her already. She smiled a lot, and I liked girls who smiled a lot. She stood, discreetly, on the outside of the screen the door asking me a few casual questions about my work in the navy – 'I collect gossip.' – as I went about finding a second glass, the pitcher of Kaf and the ice from the ice box in the faint silver light of Irra streaming in from the doorway and the screen window.

We settled into the chair on either side of the small table with our glasses of iced kaf and I told my story, as I have told it here, more or less. She took notes and asked me questions now and again.

'So you saved the Vente sorceress from certain death at the jaws of the armorfish!' she gushed.

'Well, I wouldn't go quite that far. She made a great leap and I may've helped lift her out of the way of that armorfish on the deck, but it's hard to say what would've happened if I hadn't caught her.'

'Oh, don't be so modest, Lieutenant. So what happened after that? After you were holding her in your arms? Did she gaze into your eyes with a wondering look of gratitude? Did she sigh modestly, and thank you, in a shy, quiet voice and look away blushing?'

'Hardly. Remember she's likely a Vente islander. They're not known for being shy and modest.'

'True. They're known for using naughty children in their stews.'

'Well, yes. There's that, though I'm sure that's just another one of those myths. But they are a very secret and unwelcoming tribe of islanders.'

'And wielders of magic, as you saw for yourself. But back to the sorceress you were holding in your arms.'

'It wasn't quite like that. I had collapsed into the laps of her crew and she was on top of me. I wasn't quite holding her in my arms. Truth be told, I could hear her heart beating, since my ear was next to her... ah...'

She laughed. 'Oh, my. You will certainly have to marry her now!'

'The gods of the islands forbid!'

'And why not? It would make a nice ending to my story. I bet she was young and beautiful enough.'

'Well, maybe. In the abstract. I saw her sleeping on a deck chair once, so I'll admit that she was young, and even pretty, asleep. But when she was awake, she was cold, unfriendly, and scowling all the time. A very grim, and unpleasant girl, all in all.' And giving her my best smile, I added, 'I much prefer cheerful girls who laugh a lot.'

'Still, I suppose you'd be a bit grim too, if you found yourself on the top of a low cabin on a waterlogged wreck with armorfish snapping at you from the wave washed deck. But back to the boat, with her, ah, on top of you. What did she do, if it wasn't sighing modestly and thanking you in an awed voice?'

'She pushed herself off of me and stared down at me with her cold blue-green eyes, as if she was angry at me, without a word.'

'And what did you do?'

'Ah, I just sort of smiled and asked her if she still had ten toes.'

Sella laughed, 'That was sweet. What did she say?'

'Well, I don't think she thought it was sweet. All she said was "Yes."'

'You're not being very helpful here, Lieutenant Lang.'

'I'm sorry. But I believe you are looking for the truth. I'm afraid that we can't make an island romance out of this incident. From the time we met, to the time we parted company, the sorceress never failed to look at me like she was trying very hard to hold her impatience to be rid of me in check. Perhaps, given the Vente reputation for secrecy and aloofness, she resented me for my part in rescuing her and her crew. Maybe just for the necessity of having to be rescued at all. Still, her crew was polite enough, and thankful for every kindness, though they didn't say more than what was necessary, especially when the sorceress was around.'

Sella sighed. 'That's a shame.'

'I tried, but she was always a very cold and unpleasant person to be around.'

Sella shook her head. 'That's sad. It would've made a much better story if she was beautiful, alluring and so very grateful.'

'It would've been nice. But the Vente are not known for being nice,' I said, reaching for the kaf glass on the table between us.

'And yet, Lieutenant Lang, she entrusted you with the golden key, which she held dearer than her own heart. That's very telling, I think...'

I froze in the act of taking a sip of kaf. Looking across to her, and her little smile, I realized that I could never be a spy.

Her smile widened, sweetly.

'What do you mean?' I asked, as a matter of form, not believing for a moment that I could bluff my way out of this. And seeing her smile widen still more, surrendered and asked, 'Who are you?'

She ignored my question. She leaned forward to put her hand on my arm 'I like you. I approve of her choice. Of course she's proud, and shy, and may've been hurt in the past, so she may've not been as nice to you as I know she can be. But she would never have entrusted her golden key to anyone but the man she'd fallen madly in love with.'

'Don't talk rot. Who are you?

'Who do you think?'

'Ah... Well, I must suppose that you're a Vente islander'

She laughed and leaned closer, and shook her finger at me, 'I've come for you. You've been a very naughty boy, Taef Lang.'

I shook my head, 'Not that naughty. Now tell me who you are, and why you're here.'

'I told you who I am. I'm Sella Raah. And Lessie, Lessie Raah is my sister. My twin sister. My younger twin sister,' she replied with a cheerful laugh. And giving my arm a gentle squeeze added, 'Don't worry, some of us Vente are very nice, some of the time. And as I said, I like you, and I can see why Lessie fell in love with you.' She then sat at back in her chair and regarded me for a few moments.

I regarded her as well. 'Yes, I can now see the resemblance. I thought you looked familiar. I bet if you ever scowled, I'd have recognized who you were right off.'

She laughed. 'Yes, I know how she is these days. She can be a trial. But don't judge her too hastily.' She paused and shook her head sadly. 'Right from the beginning, things did not work out as she would have liked. Though she would never admit it. I think the fact that I got out of the gate seven minutes before she did, making me her older sister, has always seemed unfair to her. She sees herself as the wiser, elder sister. But, well, she's not.'

'And that matters?'

'Yes it does. It matters a lot. One will rule, one will not. But that's in the future.'

'Ah...' I muttered. Looking back, I suppose it was clear from how the crew treated her, that Lessie was someone special. An island prince, if not the heir.

'But there's more to it than that. There's my black hair. I know that she feels her hair should have been black. She's never forgiven me for the fact that my hair is as black as the night and shows off pearls and silver beads to such a wonderful effect. Her pale, sandy white hair would look wonderful with colorful gems and bright beads, but that is not Lessie's style. She sees herself as dark, and as mysterious, as the moonless time of night. While, I, as you may have noticed, am as bright as a cheerful day, even with my hair of the starry night. So you see, everything turned out wrong. No wonder she frowns, at times. I forgive her for it. But perhaps now, that will change...' she concluded, giving me another long, wondering look.

Against my better judgment, I found myself asking, 'Why?' And regretting it.

'Because she found you, Lieutenant Lang and fell in love with you,' she said, almost seriously.

'Ha. As I told you already, she looked on me with disdain and impatience.'

'And yet, she trusted you with the golden key.'

'It had to be mere expediency. I was a means to some end,' I said, no point in denying that I had it, since I'd already given that away.

She shook her head. 'She gave you the thing she holds most dear in life, to keep and hold for her return.'

'She told you this?'

'No. Of course not. I am first born and have the black hair. The golden key was all hers. She found it – which is to say that she picked it up first after it fell from the secret compartment in great-great grandfather's desk. We must have been eight or nine at the time. We were playing in a dusty, cobweb draped trunk-room filled with old discarded furniture, when either she or I accidentally bumped a secret lever that released the key from the desk. She grabbed it before I could, and claimed it as her own.'

She then sighed, 'Even back then, I knew that being first born, with my black hair, that I should not overrule my younger sister's claim to the golden key. It was something special that she needed to call her own. Still, I have some claim to it as well.'

'The key to what? And why a key? It certainly doesn't look like a key.'

She shrugged. 'We just call it a key. It is a case, since we know it to be hollow with something inside. We imagined it to be a treasure map, or a key to a secret door in the Residence. We spent many an hour over the years trying to open it.'

She paused, gave me a look, and said in a mock mysterious voice, 'It can not be cut or even marred... It is gold like no other gold.'

And then she continued, 'Now, well, I can only suppose that Lessie finally found its secret, and ran off – without me – to find its treasure. I wasn't happy about that, of course. It was only her key because she picked it up first. But then, Lessie often makes me angry. Still...'

'You have your black hair,' I muttered.

She smiled modestly. 'Yes, I do. And when I remember that, when I remember my good fortune, and her lifelong disappointments, I can easily forgive her. And I have forgiven her. She can have the treasure of the golden key to herself.'

'Where is she, then? And why are you here, instead of her?'

'Ah, Grandfather was not happy about her commandeering one of his very special yachts, and then, well, losing it.' She shook her head sadly. 'He wasn't happy at all... She's not free to travel at the moment.'

'So why are you here?'

'I'm here for the golden key.'

'Even with your black hair?'

'Oh, I don't know how to open the cylinder, so it's of no use to me, not without Lessie. I just want to hold the key so that she won't run off again without me. She owes me that much. We're sisters, after all. And I was next to her when we found it. I should be present when the key – if that's what it is, is turned.'

'Why are you so certain that I have it?'

'Because she had it when she set out. It was her second heart. Her hope. It was always with her. But She didn't have it when she boarded the Starsea in Fey Lon harbor three months ago.'

'I don't see how that means that I have it.'

She just smiled at me.

'Besides the fact that I already seem to have admitted that.'

'Oh, it was simple detective work,' she said with a little laugh. 'She didn't have it with her when she boarded the Starsea. She couldn't bring it onboard because she didn't want to share the discovery with me. She may have also feared that Grandfather – who, I should mention, is the Captain, the Prince of the Vente Islands – would find out about the golden key upon our return. And if he did find out about it, that would put an end to all her dreams. Of course, she could've lost it to the sea in the shipwreck. But if she had, she would've cried all the way home. She didn't. Which meant that she must have hidden it away or given it to someone to keep for her until she could return while on the Island Crown.

'She could not have trusted her crew to keep it secret. They are Grandfather's crew. And, hiding it aboard the Island Crown itself, or giving it to one of its crew members would've made recovering it very hard. Who knows where the ship or the crew member would be when it came time to recover it? So, had she any other options?'

She paused, and smiled, reached over and tapped her finger on my arm. 'But you see, I heard the story of your encounter with my sister from the crew of the Sealight before I came. Plus, I learned that you were onboard for an assignment on Fey Lon. You, and only you, could be easily found. There was never any doubt as to who she entrusted it to. And now, within minutes of meeting you, I am certain why she entrusted it to you.'

I ignored that, and instead, leaned forward and asked, 'How did you know what happened to them? And how was it that you were waiting for them here, in all the thousands of islands?'

'When she commandeered the Sealight and took off without me, I immediately suspected that she was off to find our treasure – without me. It was a selfish thing for her to do, running off like that. So I commandeered the Sealight's sister yacht, the Starsea and followed her.'

'How? How did you follow her? Boats leave no trails in the sea.'

She gave me a little smile. 'Vente sorcery.'

'Really?'

'Wasn't I waiting for her arrival in the harbor? Need I say more?'

'Oh, go on.'

'Well, the fact is that we weren't all that that far off when you rescued her. We could see that Lessie and the crew were rescued by the Island Crown's boat, so we just followed you back to Fey Lon, slipping ahead when we were certain of your destination.'

There were enough sails about that morning, to make that part of her story believable. And I'm sure we paid no attention to a small yacht following us.

'Well, now that you found me. What can I do for you?'

'I'd like for you to give me the golden key, to hold for my sister.'

'Why? Why not wait and come with your sister the next time.'

'Simply because I don't want to risk her going off again without me. And well, it may be a long time before Lessie will be able to collect it. A very long time. She's very stubborn.'

'Ah, yes. You said she's being held, a prisoner.'

'Of sorts. Grandfather was terribly angry what with the loss of the Sealight, and he demanded an explanation for why she had taken it, and then sailed it so far from the islands. What could she say? How could she explain her actions when we arrived back home, without a valuable yacht?'

'Indeed. So what explanation did she, or you, for that matter, offer?'

Sella laughed. 'Why she offered none at all, of course! And what could I say without implicating myself in the secret of the golden key? I just said that I went after her to try to keep her out of trouble. None of this satisfied Grandfather, who, I fear, has grown weary of our escapades. So, as a result, she is now under house arrest in a remote, ah, island. Grandfather vows to keep her in exile until she confesses to whatever it was she was up to. Lessie is very stubborn, so she may be there for years.

'You see,' she added with a confidential smile, 'I fear that we have been somewhat of a trial to Grandfather. Our parents were killed when an extraordinarily large tsunami smashed the little boat they were sailing in into the rocks. We were only four at the time. Since then, we've grown up under the nominal care of our paternal grandmother, together with a succession of nannies and governess. Mother was an outer islander, not a true Vente – it was a big scandal at the time – so our maternal grandparents were never welcomed in the Residence. Anyway, the first five governesses did not last long. The sixth, Tes, who confined her activities to covering up for us, we kept...

'I suspect that we've been something of a trial to everyone. Always welcomed wherever we go, but never for all that long. At least by the old folks. We were always trouble, and now, I fear, Grandfather has lost patience with us. He feels that we haven't grown up. And he's now trying to exert his authority both as grandfather, and as Captain of the Vente, over Lessie and I. Too late... Far too late,' she sighed, and then gave me a sweet, but mischievous smile.

'But back to the business at hand,' she continued. 'Hand over the golden key. Please. I promise to return it to my sister, on the condition that the next time she sets out to find the treasure, I must be invited along.'

'Has she agreed to this arrangement?'

'No. As I said, she's stubborn, and out of reach.'

'Ah, you see, Sella, I promised your sister to only turn it over to her, or to someone bearing a token we agreed on. She made no mention of you. So I think I must decline. Talk to your sister, and if she can't come herself, get the token from her. I don't know where I'll be when my navy days are over in 15 months. So if Lessie plans to be stubborn that long, she needs to come to terms with you.'

I didn't care to go into our alternative arrangements. I didn't want to get the family involved in this, ah, situation.

She gazed at me for some time. 'Lessie has chosen well,' she muttered. And then in a louder voice, continued, 'You must admit, Lieutenant Lang, that I have been very forthcoming with you. I have taken the time to explain who I am, and the circumstances surrounding my visit. I believe that I have established my identity and my relationship with my sister. And, I have asked, ever so politely, that you turn the golden key over to me, who is, whether Lessie thinks so or not, part owner of it.'

'You have done all that. And I have enjoyed our conversation. But I have seen how your sister deals with pirates, and I do not wish to incur her wrath by breaking our understanding.'

Sella smiled wickedly. 'You understand what the word "sister" means, don't you?' she asked, and then slowly raised her arm to point at me from across the table. 'The power runs in families.'

I could not take her seriously, and I'm fairly sure, I wasn't meant to. 'I don't believe in magic, and you are not like your sister. You have black hair to show off your pearls, and almost enough charm to talk me out of my promise. Let your sister have her golden key.'

She just laughed, dropping her arm. 'You are right, of course. But I must warn you, Lieutenant Lang, you must be careful with your heart and your compliments. There is one thing I will not do, and that is steal the man my sister has fallen in love with from her.'

'You needn't worry about that. Trust me. Still, I have a feeling that it would be safest for me, if I were to heed your warning. We can just be friends.'

'Friends! Why thank you Taef. We've become friends in the light of Irra which is held to be very auspicious. But I truly believe she has fallen in love with you. So treat her well, for believe it or not, I love her for all her thorns, as I trust you will, in time. I would love to love you like a brother.

'But enough of that. You are trying to seduce me away from my purpose. I have once more risked the wrath of Grandfather by commandeering his remaining favorite yacht to recover the golden key. Hand it over.'

'Sorry, no.'

She turned away and whistled like a nighthawk, which brought the shadows below the shanty alive. Three young men dressed in black swiftly and silently filled the veranda.

'You don't object to my friends searching your quarters do you?'

If I were Zar Lada, of those books I read growing up, I would've objected – and prevented them. Zar could've handled three of them. He was far more adept in Hi-ra Kara Island style martial arts than I. But then there was Sella. I didn't think even Zar could've handled her. So I decided that I should put my youth, or at least that part of my youth, behind me.

'I don't fight battles I can't win. Though I will say this, I swear on my honor that it is not hidden in my mattress. It is thin and lumpy enough as it is, so please don't tear it up searching for something that isn't there.'

They glanced to Sella, who nodded. 'I think we can trust Lieutenant Lang on his honor. Search everywhere but the mattress.'

As soon as they disappeared into my quarters, she leaned over the little table to me and whispered, 'It's not in there, is it?'

I shook my head "no."

She leaned back and sighed. 'So I must come up with an alternate plan.'

I stifled a sigh of relief. She had not made the connection between the Lang Mercantile and Lieutenant Lang. I didn't know what I would do if she threatened to send her three friends searching the family house.

They stepped back out in less than five minutes. My quarters were quite sparse, since I had all the comforts of home a quarter of an hour's walk away.

'You're not going to freely tell me, are you? Do I have to order my friends to break a few bones?'

'Would your sister ever forgive you for breaking a few bones of her love?'

She laughed, and shook her head. 'You have me there, Lieutenant. Fortunately, I have already come up with an alternative plan.' She paused, smiled, and watched me.

'And that is?'

'Grandfather wants an explanation for her actions. I will give him one. I will bring to him the handsome lieutenant that Lessie met while cruising the islands one day, oh, say six months ago. I will tell him, that this lieutenant has haunted her every waking hour, until she could no longer bear being parted from him. Mad with love, she commandeered the Sealight, and sailed to her lover.'

It was my turn to laugh. 'He'll never believe that!'

'We can but try. If I can sell Lessie on going along with the story, we might just be able to bring it off. Grandfather is rather clueless when it comes to his granddaughters. And if the story can spring Lessie from exile, then all three of us would be free, someday, after your marriage, to go in search of the golden treasure!'

The thing about Sella Raah was that I could never tell when she was joking and when she was serious. The line between the two seemed very fluid. In this case, I didn't even bother to object. I merely said, 'Plan three?'

She shook her head. 'Two plans are my limit. Will you come peacefully, or must I order my friends to, ah, convince you?'

'You're really serious?'

'Yes. It is the only way.'

'No it isn't. Talk to your sister. Bring back her token, and in a month's time or two, you'll have the key to your golden treasure.'

'No. Getting back here again may prove be problematic. Grandfather will likely take measures to insure that his government boats, which have been commandeered on such a regular basis by his granddaughters, have orders to stay put. No, you're sailing for the Vente Islands. The only question is how do we get you to my yacht. Must it be tied, gagged and carried? Or would you care to accompany us, un-bruised and under your own power, on your word of honor?'

I glanced at her three friends. They still weren't a battle I was going to win, so the question was, how much did I need to resist, as a matter of principle? I didn't relish the needless bruises. Luckily, I found that I could justify getting shanghaied for the information I would be able to bring back from the Vente Islands. They would have to return me here, if they ever wanted to recover the golden key. That thought worked for me. 'Let me write a quick note, pack a kit, and I am yours to command.'

She shook her head. 'I think not. I think you'll just mysteriously disappear. A tragic encounter with a armorfish during a midnight swim – your clothes carried away by the tide. Or perhaps too many drinks down by the harbor, and a short-handed Zanra Island trader... It must look unpremeditated. It will make it easier for you when you return. If you do. Gil, take my glass, wash it, and put it back. We'll leave Lieutenant Lang's here on the table.'

I bit back an objection. A mysterious disappearance would be hard on my family, but as hard as it would be, it was safer for them if Sella and her Vente friends remained ignorant of them. Sella may be charming, but the Vente did have a reputation. And then too, an abduction would be easier to explain than a deliberate desertion to Captain Char.

Gil returned a minute later, and Sella rose. Shall we go?'

I rose, and said, 'Lead on, as far as I'm concerned, I am on an ad hoc mission to discover the secrets of the Vente sorcerers.'

She gave me a rather chilling serious look, but nodded, and said, 'Then let's be on our way. Our dinghy is at the edge of the last wharf. And please be careful, Taef. We have a reputation that is not entirely unearned.'

03

The yellow lights of the harbor dives glistened on the water, and outlined the dark forms of the boats riding at anchor, as Sella's crew rowed the crowded dinghy between them to the yacht. It was the same yacht I'd seen three months ago. The watchkeeper, on board, caught our line and one by one we clambered up and onto the moonlit deck.

'Let's get under way,' said Sella quietly when we were all aboard.

Her crew silently went about their business while she and I kept out of their way. Once the anchor and sail were ready to be raised and everyone was in their places and looking at her, she nodded. The anchor was cranked up as the dark green batten sail was raised and hauled around to catch the whisper of a breeze. The yacht came ever so slightly to life. Sella then nodded to the woman at the helm and the Starsea jumped to a fuller life with a low hum and a churning of the water around her as she gently surged ahead.

'Ah, a motor, not sorcery,' I said, looking, hopefully nonchalantly. 'We had wondered about that, the last time you left Fey Lon.'

'We?'

'My chief and I. We watched your last departure from the navy building on the hill. You were clearly traveling faster than the wind would've driven you. Sorcery seemed unlikely, but there was no indication of any type of engine. Some sort of electric motor, perhaps?'

'Consider it sorcery, Lieutenant.'

'Why?'

'Because you don't want to know too much.'

I bit back another "Why?" and said instead, 'It doesn't feel like sorcery.'

'What does sorcery feel like?

'Ah...' she had me there. 'Seriously, it isn't sorcery, is it, Sella?

She leaned close and said, quietly, and far more seriously than she had been on the veranda, 'We are the sorcerers of the Vente Islands. We have secrets to keep. You will only be allowed to leave the islands if you can be trusted to keep them. I would suggest that the fewer secrets you know, and have to keep, the easier it will be to leave. Plus, the less things you can't reveal, the more comfortable you'll be with your conscience Lies and duty do not mix well. I suggest that you become a believer in sorcery, Lieutenant.'

'Ah, point taken. But I'll certainly have to make some sort of report to explain my absence.'

'Yes, of course. There are secrets, and there are secret secrets. If you, indeed, ever go home, you'll have enough secrets to satisfy your superiors. For now, let's just say that the aft compartment is off limits to you,' she said. 'Otherwise you have the freedom of the Starsea.'

I nodded, 'I shall temper my curiosity.'

'If you ever want to see home again, you will. I am bending, if not breaking, the age-old rules by inviting...'

'Abducting.'

'...you to visit Vente. Please don't give me reason to revisit my decision. I may have acted hastily... But that can be easily remedied,' she added with a nod to the boat's railing.

I gave her a sidelong glance. She seemed very serious, but as I said, with her, the line between serious and teasing was very fluid. She may well have been simply playing at being ruthless. Still, 'Point taken. Curiosity tempered.'

As I leaned back against the cabin, and watched Lil Lon slowly glide by, I began to revisit my decision – while I still could do something about it. As she pointed out, I was only two steps and a dive away from reversing it. Those harbor lights were still well within my swimming range. Five minutes from now, they'd would be too far astern.

Had I been too hasty, too thoughtless, when my curiosity found a way to surrender so easily? For it was curiosity more than any sense of duty that had me here. Of course there was those three large men. It had seemed to make sense at the time. All I was doing was saving myself aches and bruises. But two steps and a dive would remedy that. Now.

I had to admit it had been an ease choice. Too easy. Yes, there was the prospect of gaining some information on the infamous, but little known Vente Islands. And yet, I probably had enough new insights about them, from even this brief encounter, to write a report that would spark a renewed interest in those remote islands. And I still held the golden key, so Lessie, or a messenger, would have to return someday. Which could be looked on as either good, or bad, as an opportunity, or as a danger. Whoever came back might not be as pleasant as Sella had been. So far. Did I want to live in fear?

'You've grown rather quiet, Lieutenant,' said Sella softly.

'Like you, I'm reconsidering my decisions.'

'Regretting them?'

I shrugged. 'Maybe. Maybe not.'

'You don't have much time left to decide.'

I gave her a sidelong look and meet her gaze. Her face, coolly lit in the silver light of Arra, was impossible to read. 'You don't seem to be very concerned about the outcome.'

It was her turn to shrug. 'I think, Taef, if we leave this harbor together, our fates are tied together. We'll have stand together or feed the armorfish in Vente. If you stay, I will trust you. But if you stay, you'll have to become half Vente if you ever hope to see this harbor again. So, if you feel that your duty to Aerlonia and the navy will not allow you to keep the secrets I will ask of you, you should probably try your luck in the water, while you still can. If you still can.'

With her words, I found that I'd made my choice. 'I am an islander, Sella.'

'I thought that you were an Aerlonian, which is why you're in the navy.'

'I was born and raised in the islands, of Aerlonian parents. And though I've spent the last seven years in Aerlonia, I'm finding that I may be more of an islander than an Aerlonian.'

'Not just because of me, I hope.'

'No. There's a shadow war between Aerlonia and Feldara being fought using the island princes as puppets. I find that even being a tiny part of this shadow war bothers my conscious more than I would've imagined. The Founders would have wanted their descendants to live in peace, not wage wars. As an islander, I resent that our darkest impulses are being used by the two continents to promote their own aims as part of their age-old rivalries.'

'Divided loyalties are best resolved. Don't make that choice too late, or you will serve neither.'

I shrugged. 'Perhaps I have. And you? Why will we have to stand together?'

'Because I may've gone too far this time. As I said, Grandfather has grown tired of our escapades. If you don't back up my story, it will not go well for either of us.'

'He's that powerful?'

'He is the Captain of the Ventes. Its prince, almost. It is both a ceremonial and an executive position. He has ceremonial duties, but he also makes executive decisions together with an elected Captain's Staff. Traditionally, the Captain is a hereditary position. Someday, hopefully far away in the future, I, as the first born daughter of his first born child, should become Captain of the Ventes, though he has threatened to disinherit me...'

'Because of your antics?'

'Because we abuse our position as his granddaughters rather shamelessly. Being his granddaughter is what allowed me to command the services of this crew and boat. That, and a command token,' she added with a smile.

'It's the way we've operated our whole lives. That said, I suspect that our many escapades have provided the Captain's household with so much private amusement that they are a little too willing to accommodate us. I took command of the Starsea and its crew, ordered them to take me here, and then shanghaied you without, as you've seen, even a blink of an eye. Oh, I flashed my command token just to give them cover, but they knew it was just another lark of mine. And when we get back, they'll have a new story to tell about the Captain's granddaughters, after getting chewed out by Grandfather as idiots. But up to now, it has been harmless play. The loss of the Sealight hanged the complexion of our escapades... Lives could have been lost, and a valuable boat was...'

She sighed, and then continued. 'I've a feeling this whole affair is something different, something far more dangerous, than our past escapades. And yet, we're acting like we did back when we were 15. But we're not 15 any more. The golden key, and its golden treasure was just the romantic notion of girls of 15. What is it really? Why was it hidden in an ancient desk of a long dead Captain. And who's to say he even knew about it? The golden key likely dates back a thousand years, since it has to be a Founder's artifact. And if it is, indeed, a key, what door does it open? And what lays beyond that locked door? What needed to be locked and hidden away? Perhaps Lessie knows...'

'She must know something,' I said.

'No matter. I doubt that anything would've given her pause. It is her dream of being something other than a second daughter. And I'll have to stand next to her – whether she likes it or not – as you likely will, if you don't take those two steps.'

She then turned to me and smiled rather sadly. 'It is a shame we're not 15 again, with nothing to worry about, save that we might be found out. And then we had good old Tes to smooth things over. All things considered, it might be wisest if we both jumped ship. Shall we?' she added with a nod to the dark, dancing liquid slowly drifting past.

'After you,' I said with a little sweep of my hand.

'That's a rather slippery-eelly reply, Lieutenant Lang,' she laughed, settling back against the cabin.

'Maybe. But then. We seem to have been talking so long now that we're now beyond my swimming range. And probably on purpose.'

She shook her head. 'That's no excuse. You were free to jump at any time.'

I sighed. 'That would've been impolite. No turning back now.'

Chapter 04 The Red Island

01

Once beyond the breakwater, and into the long swells of the Tropic Sea, the Starsea leaped ahead at the speed of a steam launch, with little more than a quiet purr from its "magic" engine and the churning of its propeller. I was shown to a narrow bunk in the hot, stuffy, forecastle, but my head was too filled with questions for sleep. Instead, I found a spot on deck against the cabin that sheltered me from the spray the Starsea would occasionally toss up. There, I tried to put my thoughts in order, as I watched the five volcanic peaks of Fey Lon slip by, one by one, against the starry sky. But even when we reached the last one, Non Tar, and its little trail of smoke was pink in the first light of the new day, I still hadn't gotten them in order. However, by then, I was weary enough from trying, to seek out my narrow bunk, and fall quickly asleep. The bright day was slanting into its skylight when I awoke. To my surprise, I found that my thoughts had arranged themselves rather nicely, as I slept.

I was a political officer, not a line officer. A political officer was allowed, nay, expected, to use his, or her, initiative to further the interests of Aerlonia, should the opportunity arise. As it did for me. And while my current mission was well above my rank and pay scale, the opportunity to fill in a fairly large blank spot on the map of the northern Tropic Sea needed be grasped when offered. True, I was now working more for Admiral Ply's Department Seven, and Command Commander De Lore's Section 3 at the Admiralty, than Captain Char, and the Fey Lon establishment. But that too, could be justified. Of course, I'd have to make it back to make my report, but given that the golden key remained on Lil Lon, that seemed almost inevitable. There would be compromises that I would have to make. But political officers, I think, had to make compromises, when necessary, to do their job. So, with that settled, I rolled out of the berth to the slightly slanted and gently bounding deck, washed up, and climbed up the short hatchway to a bright, warm morning with a cheerful smile.

Sella was sitting on the cockpit windward cowling, along with several of the crew and the man at the helm.

'Good morning all. Sorry I slept in so late.'

'Morning, Taef. You're our guest. You can sleep in whenever you want,' said Sella, brightly.

'There are no guests aboard a boat this size. What can I do to pitch in?'

'Can you slice vegetables?' asked Nina, the female crew member at Sella's side, slipping off the cowling to stand.

'I learned on my mother's lap,' I replied cheerfully.

'Can he be trusted with a knife?' asked Nina, turning to Sella.

'Just don't turn your back on him,' replied Sella with a laugh.

'Come along then. It's time to get the midday meal underway,' said Nina.

I followed her down to the cabin and sliced the vegetables.

Later, while I was washing the midday meal dishes – I volunteered for galley duty as well – Sella came down, and sitting on the edge of the cabin's table, said, 'You're making me nervous.'

I turned to her. 'Why?'

'You're altogether too chipper for a prisoner.'

'I thought I was a guest.'

'I misspoke, too chipper for a guest.'

'Then it must be the pleasant company of my hostess.'

She tried to put on a scowl. 'I've warned you...'

I laughed, 'Yes you did. So how about this explanation. Did I happen to mention last night that my real career is archaeology?'

'No? Well it is. That's what I studied at the university and hope to spend my life studying the ancient histories of the islands – once this hitch with the navy is behind me. You've just given me the opportunity to discover some of the secrets of the most mysterious islands in the Tropic Sea. And from what I've seen already, I suspect that I'm going to discover something very interesting, indeed.'

'There'll be many secrets to keep.'

'Yes, and yet... I think that you'd be wise to allow me to make a discreetly edited report. Someday, Sella, when you're the Captain of the Vente, if not before, the Vente are going to have to deal with the arrival of the steel warships of Aerlonia and Feldara, since your islands lay directly in the path of their ultimate goal – Norterra. Right now, in the files of my employers, you're just an island tribe who are held in superstitious regard by other islanders. It might pay to reset expectations, since I think, even on my so far brief experiences with the Vente, that our current expectations do not match reality. I can't say now how they should be reset. It's probably above my rank and pay scale to make suggestions, but it is something you, as the future Captain of the Vente, might want to think about before we return to Lil Lon to collect the golden key.'

She gave me a long shrewd look. 'That almost sounded like a threat.'

'Not mine. But there is a threat on the distant horizon that you or your grandfather will have to eventually deal with. I'm just suggesting that I, and the information you send back with me, could be used to make those first meetings on a more equal footing.'

'Oh, I don't think I'll have to worry too much about that,' she said, flashing me a superior, and vaguely threatening look. And left it at that. 'Carry on, Lieutenant. Those dishes won't wash themselves.'

So, as a galley hand, I quickly settled into the routine of the voyage, a voyage that was likely to take ten to twelve days to reach the Vente Islands, even though the Starsea was relentlessly driven on by "sorcery" as well as sail. While a 12 meter boat is not an overly large boat to cross thousands of kilometers of ocean, it could be done in relative safely in the Tropic Sea, since one is never out of sight of an island. With a proper chart, navigating the Tropic Sea is simply a matter of following sight lines and connecting the dots on the charts to the proper islands. A proper chart also has the silhouettes of the most distinctive islands running along the side of it to help identify the most prominent islands should one lose one's bearings in a storm or thick weather. The Starsea had a complete collection of Tropic Sea charts and the crew kept a meticulous record of their course.

Though unnecessary for navigation, the Starsea kept its dark green batten sail raised, so as to look like every other boat in a sea often sprinkled with sails of local fishing boats and island traders. However, it was often trimmed to avoid holding back the yacht's "sorcery" driven speed rather than to catch the often slight airs we found as we sailed to the northwest, approaching, and then crossing, the equator.

While I assumed there is some sort of mechanical engine in the after compartment driving the propeller – likely a large electric current engine, since the cabin was lit with electrical incandescent wire lamps – I couldn't explain how it continuously drove the Starsea without a steam or fuel engine to drive the dynamo. In that respect, "sorcery" was a pretty accurate description of it.

Sella's five crew members, like those I'd known aboard the Island Crown, were quietly friendly, but confined their conversations with me to the everyday topics of the Starsea and the fleeting hour. I was treated as a guest, and save for galley duties, my time was my own. I was, however, invited to join in their voyage-long dice game – Sella cheerfully accepting my Fey Lon paper money at a modest trader-exchange rate. Seeing how remote Vente Islands were from Fey Lon, Fey Lon currency would be almost non-negotiable in their neighboring northwest islands, so that her rate was quite generous. But then, Sella Raah, if one overlooked the fact that I had been shanghaied, treated me like an old friend. She spent a lot of her free time in my company. And, unlike her crew, she was generous in her conversations, which seemed almost unguarded. Almost. I quickly learned to steered clear of asking too many questions of Vente life, since she would wag her finger at me, as if I was trying to trick some forbidden knowledge out of her. And yet, she regaled me with, no doubt carefully edited, tales of hers and Lessie's exploits while growing up as the granddaughters of the Captain of the Ventes. I learned much about their life, and with it, a glimpse of Vente life as well.

They had been raised by a series of nannies, governesses and tutors. Many of her stories were how they avoided these adults, and the rules they tried to impose. She mentioned many places in her stories which they seemed to be able to travel between at will. Clearly, I was dealing with a person of position, if not power. Yet.

'Our tutors despaired of teaching us anything at all. Even so, Lessie is very wise and knowledgeable. She has spent many hours in the Residence and even University library reading ever so many books!' Sella would add, always making a pointed effort to paint Lessie in a kinder light than the Lessie I knew. But, I must confess, with little success. The Lessie Sella described was not the Lessie I knew.

On the other hand, I suspect that Sella now knows more about me, and my life, both in the islands, and during my University years in Aerlonia than, well, anyone else. One pays for generosity with generosity, and since I didn't have secrets and sorcery to hide, I answered her many questions about my life, and the ways of Aerlonia, as best as I could from my experiences, and from my vantage point of another islander.

The second day of the voyage found Sella and I sitting in the shade of the low cabin forward. We had crossed the equator during the night and the air was heavy and hot even as the Starsea plowed steadily through it, tossing up a refreshing spray as it sliced through the slowly heaving blue-green sea.

'You'll like Lessie, once you get to know her,' Sella said, after many minutes of sitting in silence, and not for the first time.

'If you say so,' I replied, doubtfully, not for the first time. More likely, the twenty-fifth time.

'No, no! You will. You really will. She is really...' She paused, seemingly to carefully consider her words, as I glanced aside to her. She could sugar coat Lessie all she wanted to while growing up as young girls. But I'd met Lessie as a woman. She could not expect me to believe any sugar coated version of Lessie grown up.

She looked at me, and said very seriously, 'Lessie is unhappy. And shy. And proud. And prickly because she is shy, and proud, and unhappy. But she is never mean, or cruel, or spiteful. Well, almost never. And when she is, I can't blame her. You see, fate played that cruel trick on her – giving her the mind and spirit of the future Captain of the Vente, but not the birthright – by a mere seven minutes.'

'Don't forget, no night black hair as well,' I added.

She smiled, in spite of her best intentions. 'Yes, there is my black hair. And the fact that I am in many ways her opposite, and yet, somehow, she knows that I will make, in time, an outstanding Captain, in ways she never could.

'That is why, I think, the golden key is so important to her. She sees it as her way to become the person of importance, that she thinks she needs to be, and cannot be, as the younger sister of the future Captain who... '

'Has hair as black as the night,' I muttered under my breath.

'Quit that,' she laughed. 'I'm trying to be serious. My point is that all of her prickliness can be fixed, if she finds a new life for herself with a true friend who can see through her thorniness and make her happy.'

'I thought that the treasure of the golden key would change her.'

She sighed, 'It may take both. But you're the other half, Taef. And that is why you must come to like, and then love, my dear sister. You must save my sister from a life of unhappiness.'

I shook my head. 'I can assure you that I'm not the one. She gave the golden key to me out of expediency. She could find me when she needed the key again. Trust me, there was no love in her eyes. Not even friendship. Just cold impatience and thinly veiled contempt in them. It was simply something she had to do, and did it. She doesn't need or want to be liked. And I doubt that she wants to be happy, as we understand it, either. There are people like that.'

'You're wrong! We grew up together. Often we were all we had. She used to laugh. She used to be happy. Oh, she has always been far more serious than me, but as she grew older, when she found out how our birth order would arrange our lives, she may've felt, sometimes, that fate had played a cruel trick on her. Sometimes, when we fight, she will say things she doesn't mean. But we are always sisters who love each other dearly.

'And just between you and me, Taef, I don't think her unhappiness entirely comes from our birth order. I think that she has been disappointed in love as well. Early on... But try as I might, I can't say by whom...'

'I think you have a very romantic nature, Sella. You may be letting that color your judgment when it comes to Lessie,' I said.

She turned and gave me a long hard look. 'Don't underestimate me, Taef. I'm a Raah, and the Raahs have been part of the ruling establishment of Vente since its founding. You don't keep that position for as long as we have by being romantic.'

'Lessie is a Raah too,' I replied. 'And yet you keep giving her all sorts of romantic motivations for her actions that can simply be explained by expediency. You can't have it both ways.'

'I can, if I want to,' she snapped, and then laughed. 'You just don't understand how much the golden key meant to her, and what giving the key to you meant.'

'She gave it to me to keep it out of yours or your grandfather's hands.'

Sella shook her head. 'No. The only reason she gave it to you, was an excuse to see you again.'

I gave her a disbelieving look.

'I mean it. It made no difference whether or not she had the golden key on her, I knew what she had been attempting to do. I would've, and, trust me, will, extract from her, her promise to include me in any plans to use that key. Together we could've kept Grandfather from ever learning about it. We've been keeping things from him all of our lives. No, she gave the golden key – dearer to her than her own heart – to you to keep for her, so that she had an excuse to return to you. She's in love with you. Of that, I'm certain.'

'No. That's all in your imagination,' I replied. 'You just want it to be. But it's not. Trust me, I was there. She looked at me, when she wasn't just looking through me, with ill concealed impatience and scorn. There was always a scowl on her face. As I said, I think Lessie is one of those persons who likes being unhappy. I don't think she'll ever change.'

'You're wrong. You're very wrong. Lessie treated you the way she did because she has fallen hopelessly in love with you. And I'll tell you why I know it – as a Raah, not as a romantic minded girl.'

'Make your case.'

'Lessie, as I said, is very proud, she's a Raah, after all. But she's also very shy. Now imagine what it was like for her to find herself at a point in her life where all her plans and dreams have gone terribly wrong. She and her crew had only narrowly escaped death, and when you arrived, may have been facing something even worse. Her dream of the golden key had ended on a waterlogged wreck surrounded by armorfish, and pirates. Once again, she was a victim of a cruel fate. And then, to make matters even worse, who should show up to save her in the midst of her greatest folly? A young, handsome lieutenant, who made her heart jump to her throat. In her mind, in her pride, she sees this as an even crueler trick of fate.

'She saves him, driving the Banjars away in fear with her power, and yet, even that triumph is diminished when he has to save her from the jaws of an armorfish with carefree ease, and a little joke.

'Do you wonder why she seemed so angry? Not at you, so much, but at the cruel fate that has haunted her. At the world that has denied her a chance to be happy. And then, to make matters worse, her pride and shyness prevent her from revealing her true feelings to him. And yet, even in her darkest hour, she did not give up hope. She left her second heart with him, so that one day she could return to him again. To you, to make things right. You see that, don't you, Taef?'

What I could see was that Sella was truly pleading for her sister. I had come to know Sella well enough to realize that she could use her gift of charm to weave a convincing story to get whatever she wanted. However, to her credit, in this case, what she wanted was her sister's happiness. Unfortunately, that was out of her power. And mine as well, for I didn't like the Lessie I knew, and truly doubted that she could ever change. Still...

'I will treat Lessie kindly. I will try to like her. More than that, I will not, and indeed, cannot promise. I'm sorry, Sella, but I cannot imagine ever falling in love with Lessie. She is simply not my type. I hope you understand. I have a life of my own to live.'

She gave me a long look, and then nodded. 'I like you for your honesty, Lieutenant Lang. But I think you'll change your mind once you get to know her as I do.'

She said it with such conviction that it sort of scared me. But only a little. I knew my heart. I was not looking for a Raah as a life's partner.

02

We had three days of clear weather and good sailing. Only once did we get drenched in a brief shower rolling off an island that we were passing. However, during the evening of the fourth day, the needle of the brass barometer in the Starsea's little saloon began to fall. It continued to fall all that night and throughout the following morning. High, thin clouds streamed across the brassy blue-green sky. The air grew even hotter, heavier, and ever more oppressive than it had been. It almost seemed as if we were sailing in the depths of the sea, not on top of it. As the morning progressed, the deep green sea, a darker mirror of the sky, began to subtly heave with long waves under the surface waves. Every sign pointed to a typhoon in the offing, and a close watch was kept to the east. However, steering northwest and traveling at our customary 10 to 12 kph hour after hour, there was some hope that we could sail clear of it.

But the needle continued to fall, and by midafternoon, the edge of the eastern horizon began to show a dirty grey-green streak.

Sella and Saffe, the Starsea's captain, stood staring to the east on the deck of the cabin above me, clinging to lines running along the mast. I was sitting on the windward cockpit cowling, arms wrapped around the railing behind me, as the Starsea tilted slowly, but ever more steeply, one way, and then the next, as the storm swells grew ever steeper. I was watching the eastern horizon as well – when it could be seen. While the darkening was still just a thin line, it was clear to me that we weren't going to outrun the storm. And since we were not a steel steam ship, we'd have to take shelter behind an island rather than ride it out in the open sea. At least, I hoped so.

Sella and Saffe jumped to the deck next to me and laughed, 'I guess we'd better have a look at the charts. We don't want to run it too close, do we? We won't have Lieutenant Lang to save us like Lessie did.'

'And don't forget it,' I said, as I followed them down the narrow hatchway with its steep steps to the low, dim lit saloon.

Saffe pulled out the local chart from the rack and spread it on the narrow table that ran the length of the saloon resting on the keel housing. 'Here we are, and here is that island we can just see the peak of to the north, It's less than an hour ahead,' he said, finger on the chart. 'The two more distant cloud crowns to the northwest are these two islands, here and here, but as you can see, the nearest one is the better part of two hours ahead, and this one, almost three. Too far.'

'Ah, but that nearest one is the red island. Let's see what we'd have to deal with,' said Sella bending close to read the tiny red characters next to the island in red ink.

Islands printed in red on the charts were islands best avoided, for one reason or another, as indicated by a code in tiny characters printed beside it. Islands could be red islands because they offered no safe anchorages, or that their surrounding reefs were too shallow with no passages through them. They could also be red because they were the home of unwelcoming natives, as well as active volcanoes, lava flows, and other potential dangers. I leaned over her shoulder to view the little red dot on the chart, with its little characters and printed bearing numbers and lines linking its neighboring islands.

'Why Dar Fu, is merely a taboo, cursed, or holy island!' exclaimed Sella, deciphering the first character. 'That often means ancient ruins! You'd like that, wouldn't you?'she asked, looking up and turning to me.

'If it has a safe anchorage,' I replied.

She looked to the chart again. 'It's uninhabited, so there shouldn't be any natives around to care if we violate the local taboo. And look here, it shows a nice, small sheltered cove on its west coast, so it should serve our purposes quite well. What say you, Saffe?'

Saffe nodded, 'It looks to be either Dar Fu, or Rin Sara, here. Both offer safe harbors, but Rin Sara might be cutting it close.'

'Oh, it must be Dar Fu! Safety first. Besides, Lieutenant Lang is an archaeologist. Ruins are his mug of kaf. He'd never forgive us if we passed up the opportunity to see if this little island has some,' laughed Sella, straightening up and beaming at me. 'Am I right?'

'You've won me over with safety first,' I said promptly, adding, 'But I must admit that the possibility of some ruins makes Dar Fu all that much more appealing. I don't seem to recall ever hearing of an island named Dar Fu, so if it has any ruins, they may be unrecorded.'

'I'm certain there are some. Islanders always consider old ruins haunted. And on an island that small, the whole island would be considered haunted,' said Sella. 'Am I right?'

I nodded. 'That's generally true. And indeed, always true when it came to the adventures of Zar Lada, Island Explorer!' I added with a laugh.

Sella and Saffe gave me questioning looks.

'Zar Lada, Island Explorer, was a series of boys' adventure books that I read growing up. Stories like, Zar Lada and the Emerald Tiger or Zar Lada and Serpent Spirits, and well, many more. Young Zar would accompany his rather helpless archaeologist father on his expeditions, only to discover all sorts of strange and almost forgotten ruins, savage islanders, and of course, cursed treasures. So here I am – shanghaied by a sorceress of Vente, and about to explore a haunted island, with, perhaps ruins, cursed or otherwise. It's all straight out of a Zar Lada book!'

'I'm glad to make you so happy, Taef,' laughed Sella. 'I can't wait to experience a cursed ruin on a taboo island. We should have at least an hour or two to explore the island before the storm strikes. And with an island that small, we've a good chance to find them, if there are any. Not afraid of curses?'

'Nah. Islanders often consider abandoned ruins cursed, since that conveniently explains why they are abandoned.'

'And you, an islander!'

'Well, even as an islander, as a "guest" of sorcerers, I don't think I need to worry too much about curses, ghosts, and such, do I?'

'We'll find out! Crack on, Saffe, let's have a boys' adventure and pay a visit to the ghosts of Dar Fu!'

03

The mast of the Starsea swung in slow long arcs against the brassy green sky as the storm swells rolled under it to the nearly vertical shore of Dar Fu island. There they rose up ten meters or more, rolled and broke backwards in a cascade of foam. Dar Fu island was a small, steep, volcanic island of a single peak and a few outcropping vent holes. It rose directly out of the sea, without beaches or reefs.

We had almost rounded the island's western shore without any sign of the cove that the chart promised, before Bren, at the mast, pointed and called out, 'Captain! Ahead!'

He was pointing to a narrow cleft in the steep cliffs of the island, which, upon our approach, proved to be a long, narrow passage – barely five times the beam of the Starsea. The jungle, high over head, arched over the passage, making it almost as dark as night. Captain Saffe had to do some deft boat handling to ease the yacht into the long passage through the white water and the heavy swells that wanted to push the Starsea onto rocks. Even in the middle passage, the storm swells surging through the narrow channel, pushed the yacht this way and that.

We emerged into the dim green twilight of a well-like cove, perhaps some sixty meters across with the surrounding hills almost as high. It was likely an ancient volcanic vent hole. A thick, deep green jungle fell to the water's edge, draped in big, sweet smelling flowers, long, thick vines, and twisted nanagrove trees, whose tangled claws of roots clung to the folds of the rocks. A narrow black sand beach circled the cove, save for the passage in and what appeared to be a pier of volcanic black rocks jutting out from the inner shore. We glided to within twenty paces of the beach before we could find a bottom for our anchor. We selected the port side beach, as the beach on the starboard side had several dozen pale white, four to five meter long, reef dragons lounging on its black sand.

'Well, isn't this cozy!' exclaimed Sella, looking about as we drifted to a halt at the end of the anchor cable..

'Ah...' I muttered, looking about. 'Very Zar Ladian.'

'Haunted?' she laughed, turning to me.

'I'll not go so far as to say it's haunted. But it's certainly gloom enough to be.'

Eerie or spooky could also have been used to describe it. Perhaps it was the brassy-green storm-tinted color of the sunlight slanting down from the jungle fringed sky overhead, that gave the cove its rather ominous air. Perhaps it was a touch of claustrophobia induced by the tall, steep, black lava and jungle draped crater walls that surrounded the cove. It felt like a trap. And, of course, the reef dragons did not improve the ambiance. No wonder this island was printed in red.

'Those reef dragons are very Zar Ladian as well. They're a perennial feature of those stories,' I added.

Still, the pale forms of the long reef dragon lizards didn't stir with our appearance. They just opened their black eyes and watched us without alarm, moving only their heads to follow our progress – no doubt calculating the odds of a meal in their lizard brains. The same can't be said for the island's birds. They sailed overhead – hundreds of them – with their long tails and rainbow colored feathers flashing in the sunlight that did not reach us, protesting our invasion in a chorus of strident calls that echoed eerily around us.

'What a gloomy place,' I muttered, looking about.

'Any cove in a storm,' laughed Sella. 'Still up to finding your ruins, Zar? Or is it all too gloomy?'

I had to grin. 'Seeing that this island is right out of a Zar Lada book, there should be a treasure in gold, pearls, and jewels, cursed, of course, but nice to look at.'

'Do you really think we might find any?'

'Nah, but if we are lucky, we might find some ruins. Indeed, that pier-like outcropping might count as a ruin already. As jumbled as it looks, I suspect it is artificial. If it is, there are certainly more ruins here. They'd likely be Tika Empire ruins from 800 years, or more, ago. A thousand islands in this part of the Tropic Sea were once part of the Tika Empire. And since they built in volcanic stone rather than wood, anything they built would have lasted. Given the small size of this island, it would likely be either a fort or a temple.'

Sella, who had been studying the island, pointed towards the jutting pier and said, 'Look, you can almost trace a path going up the cliff from that rock – there and there, and there. I bet that path leads right to the temple.'

Looking up the steep cliff, I caught the hints of a line of ledges through the openings in the jungle that Sella had seen. 'Yes, I believe you're right,' I replied. 'Assuming the reef dragons don't mind...'

'Oh, never mind them. They won't mind. They look pretty well fed. And besides, they probably can't reach the top of the pier. Still, we'll go armed. You, I, and a single volunteer, can take the dinghy across and see where that trail leads to.'

04

The reef dragons did actually seem indifferent to our company. They just watched us as we swung the yacht's dinghy over the side on its davit and onto the water. Sella had dressed for the expedition with tall armorfish leather boots, pants, woven grass hat, and an armorfish leather vest over her blouse. With a holstered revolver on one hip, a sheathed machete on the other, she looked, well...

'You look quite Zar Ladian, Sella!' I had exclaimed as she emerged from the cabin.

She gave me a cheery smile. 'I'm inspired.'

Bren, the crew member who had won the right to accompany us with a die roll, was also dressed for the occasion, and had a rifle slung over his shoulder as well to discourage any interest in us that the reef dragons might muster. And while an island this small probably didn't have any of the large jungle cats, being both uninhabited and rarely, if at all visited, if it did have any, they'd likely be very bold, so it was best to be prepared.

With only the clothes I was sitting on my veranda with on board, I was content to merely add a holstered revolver, and a machete. I borrowed a notebook and pen for notes and sketches. We all carried rolled up oil cloth jackets on a strap over our shoulders. Sella handed an electric current lantern to each of us. I shoved mine into a pocket of my oil cloth jacket.

'Shall we?' asked Sella, after Saffe and Gil had jumped down into the gig.

'Lead on,' I said, offering my hand to help her over the side, as did Saffe from the gig.

As soon as we settled in, Saffe and Gil rowed us across the cove to the black landing rock. The reef dragons slowly swung their heads to follow our progress. Several of them opened their wide, toothy mouths and licked their many teeth with their long tongues. However, they did not stir. They were patient.

The black landing rock was chest high when we stood. It was not too high to reach, but, hopefully, high enough to keep the low-slung reef dragons at bay.

'Off you go, Saffe. Don't worry about us should we not make it back before the storm. Just look after the Starsea, we'll find our way back when we can.'

He nodded rather glumly and pushed off. We waited on the landing rock, watching the reef dragons – and they us – until the dinghy made it back to the Starsea. We then turned and started towards the steep, jungle-clad crater wall.

'Look! We've come to the right shop,' I exclaimed eagerly, a few moments later, pointing to a three meter tall lava-stone statue, draped in flowering creepers and moss, peeping out from the edge of the jungle at the foot of the path. I cleared off some the vines and leaves. 'Distinctly Tika work.'

'What's it supposed to be? Asked Sella, stepping around at the angular black rock.

'A very stylized reef dragon standing on its hind feet. These blocks here are his fore feet, and these two up here, are his open mouth. The etched lines are stylized skin markings, and would've been colorfully painted back in the Tika days. Reef dragons are a very common motif in Tika culture. And the rarer black reef dragons were particularly prized. They kept them as pets.'

'Pleasant people,' muttered Sella.

'By all accounts, not very. They were a pretty bloodthirsty empire in their day. They liked to feed their captives and criminals to their pet reef dragons. The Tikas are not missed in the islands.'

'You're giving me chills,' said Sella.

I wasn't.

'Perhaps our lizard friends below are those Tika pets. Royal reef dragons,' she added. 'They are said to live many ages.'

'And they seem well fed,' muttered Bren.

'Well, I doubt that they live to be 800 years old.'

'Their descendants then.'

'Perhaps, but then, reef dragons aren't exactly rare in the islands. Lets push on, I'm eager to see what lies ahead. I seem to recall that the surviving Tika legends are thought to refer to at least several sacred sites that have yet to be identified,' I beamed at Sella. 'Who knows what we'll find?'

Sella laughed. 'Indeed, we won't know if we just stand around. Lead on Zar!'

I had to laugh. 'I must admit that I'm feeling more like Zar Lada than a scholarly Aerlonian archaeologist that I'm supposed to be.'

'Does Zar have a faithful companion?'

'One Palpue, a strong, brave, but rather dimwitted islander. I'm luckier. I have a black-haired sorceress, and a well armed Bren. We're well equipped to deal with both ghosts, and emerald tigers. Forward!'

The path ran along, and, at some points, was cut into the stone of the crater wall. Wherever there were rocks alongside the path, they were carved in intricate lines, mostly in the patterns of stylized reef dragons again.

'This has to have been a very sacred spot for the Tikas with all the effort they've put into it,' I said, pausing briefly to examine the carvings – and catch my breath.

It was a hot and steep climb. The path was wide enough for two to walk abreast, but we walked single file, shoulders brushing the stone cliff. There were places along the path where the vines fell in such profusion that we had to hack our way though. Since the cove was Dar Fu's only safe harbor, the vines seemed to confirm that the island was not only uninhabited, but rarely, if ever, visited.

The birds continued to dart this way and that around us as we made our way up the side of the hill, complaining all the time.

At the top of the trail we came to a small, bare, and windblown plateau. We paused to catch our breath, and take in the scene. The approaching storm was still mostly out of sight behind the island's peak, but its heralds, the racing dull green-grey clouds now covered the sky, were just scraping over the peak of the island above us. Below and out to the horizons, the sea was a deeper, ugly green plain of heaving storm driven swells. The path we'd been following up continued as a lava-stone paved walkway across the saddle of the crater, just visible in the tall, restlessly tossing grass. It disappeared into a thick jungle, and did not reappear on the far side.

'It looks like the jungle has taken ownership of the ruins,' I said, unable to keep a note of disappointment out of my voice as I surveyed the jungle below.

'Not worth going down to see?' asked Sella.

'Oh, it's well worth a look. Everything will probably be covered with vines, windblown ash, and mulch, so they'll just be lumpy shapes in the jungle floor that would have to be excavated. But still worth a look. Of course, if this was a Zar Lada book, there would be a complete temple in that jungle, complete with barrels of gold and gems. The Tikeans not only sacrificed captives to their reef dragon gods, but demanded tribute as well. So we might find a cave piled with gold, pearls, ivory-shells and the like. That's what Zar Lada would've found.''

'Then what are we waiting for?'
'Well, there'd also be savage priests guarding it, great snakes crawling through it, and, of course, many trap doors to the pools of reef dragons to fall through.'

'As I said, what are we waiting for?' laughed Sella, and started out. 'Too bad we didn't bring sacks to haul the loot away in.'

'We just weren't thinking,' I replied with a grin as I caught up with her.

The path led down into the jungle, and quickly became a steep, dark green ravine, with the hill on one side and the jungle that arched overhead on the other. Little of the dim green light from the sky made it through the foliage overhead. I was almost tempted to unpack the electric torch. There were many places where I had to hack through veils of vines and leaves to keep going. My shirt was soon clinging to my back, damp with sweat.

'I seem to hear the sea. If we're going to find a temple, it should be soon now,' said Sella from behind me.

I stopped to listen, and sure enough, I could hear the pounding crash of surf. 'Remember what I said about trap doors and reef dragons,' I said starting ahead again. But not for long, for we soon came upon some ancient volcanic rock steps that led down and, as stepping stones, across a mossy stream bed to a large vine covered volcanic rock wall, so high that it disappeared into the jungle foliage overhead. There were two large Tika reef dragon statues draped in vines, set on either side of a wide opening. The rough opening was lost in the foliage overhead. It appeared to be a breach in the wall that had been converted to an entryway, rather than a gateway. To our left, we could just catch a glimpse of the sea. We were close and low enough now that the great crashing waves sent foamy surges of seawater around the stepping stones we had to cross to reach the reef dragon guarded gate.

'Well, this looks very interesting,' I said, as I paused to catch my breath.

'A temple entrance?' asked Sella.

'So it would seem, though it looks rather improvised... We may need our torches,' I added as I reached back to dig mine out of the oil cloth jacket I had slung behind me.

The others followed suit, and we pushed on, crossing the stream on the broad, flat rocks and then hacking through the veil of vines and creepers that covered the entryway.

It quickly became clear, as I stepped into the dark passage, that this was nothing like I expected. And what followed was a jumble of surprises, surmises, mysteries, and awe inspiring discoveries, that if I recorded my impressions in order, would make for very confusing reading. I will, instead, distill what we found in a slightly more logical order.

The entryway proved to be a three meters wide fracture in the original structure, no doubt as a result of some earthquake or volcanic activity after the structure had been built. The wall was some two meters thick, and made of volcanic stone concrete. This wall extended up, high over our heads to become a great dome.

We emerged from the short, dark passage into a vast, dim lit domed cavern, every bit as large as the cove we had taken shelter in.

'Wow! exclaimed Sella, beside me.

Wow, indeed. The fallen debris from the crack in the dome had been converted to steps that led down to the smooth floor of the cavern. From the top of these steps we stood in awe, as we stared out across the great chamber. At its center was a perfectly round pool of black water, perhaps a meter below the floor of the chamber. This pool was circled by a floor paved in seamless black volcanic stone some ten to fifteen paces wide. The dome arched over our heads to a circular opening, now slightly jagged on account of the damage the dome had suffered. The opening was slightly smaller than the pool directly below it. The greenish light of the approaching storm streamed down through this opening and through a curtain of vines that fell to the surface of the pool from the top of the opening. It still provided enough light that we did not need our torches. Birds flirted and called to each other amongst the vines and fluttered in the darkness under the great dome, but otherwise the great chamber seemed long abandoned.

If it were not for the perfection of pavement, pool, and opening above, one might have imagined this to be some sort of natural cavern – perhaps a bubble of lava. But there was that perfection – and that perfection was far beyond the capabilities of the Tika to have wrought. It slowly dawned on me what this had to be.

'This must be a Founders' structure. Some sort of abandoned facility,' I muttered, after I'd taken it all in and considered it, minutes later. 'The Tika found it and converted it to a temple thousands of years later.'

There were plenty of Tika additions to the ancient Founders' structure. Closest to us/ on the steps, was a volcanic stone platform on the edge of the pool. It was built of large square volcanic stones that the Tika favored. They had to have been carried here, or more likely, lowered down through the circular opening. There was some debris on top of the platform – bits of the wooden poles and even a little of the fabrics that once decorated the platform. This platform was flanked on both sides by three squared off reef dragon statues much like the ones that were guarding the entrance.

Opposite this platform, across the black pool, stood three more block style statues of reef dragons in black volcanic stone, on a far more massive scale. The two flanking the main statue were in a natural position, resting on all four feet. They looked to be at least twelve meters long, and up to two meters high. Like all the Tika statues, their angular form was etched in stylized lines and patterns that still held traces of paint that had been used to decorate them. This, in itself, was a valuable find, as most of the similar statues have had their paint weathered away over the last 800 years. These long, low statues were the attendants of the great reef dragon god that stood upright on its rear legs between them, facing the sacrificial platform on the other side of the pool. This statue was constructed, like the others, of square blocks and stood some ten meters tall. Its jaws were open and its steeply arching back and tail sloped back some five meters behind it – fortunately for us, as it turned out. Behind this set of three great statues, the old Founders' facility stretched further into the island some fifty or sixty meters under a lower, arching roof. Our subsequent investigations with our electric torches found this area to have been used as the residence of the temple attendants, their wooden structures having fallen into piles of rubble. We found nothing left from the original owner, the Founders. Either they had completely abandoned the facility, or the Tikas had carried off whatever was left behind a thousand years ago. That was disappointing, but given the wonderful Tika remains, I could easily overlook that slight disappointment.

Having taken everything in that we could see from the steps, we wandered down into the great temple and over to the platform on the edge of the pool.

'Do you think the Tikas kept their pet reef dragons in the pool?' asked Sella as we stood on the edge of the raised platform looking down into what appeared to be a bottomless pool.

'I would imagine so. With the vertical bank and water level as it is, it should have kept them confined to it.'

'The water is not still. It must be affected by the sea and the waves. There must be a channel to the ocean,' Bren said, pointing to the water slowly lapping at the edge of the pool, below us on the platform.

'Interesting. That must have been part of the original design. Usually the Tika kept their pets in enclosed pools.'

'They must have had a way to call them, when they wanted to feed them,' said Sella. 'I take it that this platform was where the victims were fed to them.'

'Yes,' I said with a little shudder. 'Perhaps they kept them well fed so that there were always reef dragons in the pool. I doubt that the supply of sacrificial victims would keep the reef dragons fed, no matter how bloodthirsty the Tika were. Of course, they also used animals for sacrifices as well, depending on the occasion.'

'Where would the gold, jewels, and pearls be?' asked Sella, looking eagerly about.

'At the foot of yon reef dragon god,' I replied with a nod to the three great reef dragon statues across the pool, now mostly hidden behind the lace of vines that fell through the opening in the dome.

'Let's see what they left for us,' she said as she started down the steps.

'I rather doubt they left any behind,' I said, following her.

'I gather that they always did in your Zar Lada, Boy Explorer books.'

'That's Zar Lada, Island Explorer. And that's only in the books.'

'It wouldn't hurt to look.'

'No, it wouldn't. And I do want to examine those statues anyway. But really, the vaults of every island prince are filled with gold, gems and pearls. This site is so unique, and in such good repair that it is worth far more than a prince's treasure cave. I've seen engravings of similar statues like these, but never any in almost perfect shape, with at least some of their paint still intact. This may be the find of the century – for the Tika artifacts alone. And then there's the Founders' aspect.' If, of course, I could get word of the discovery to my future colleagues.

We continued on around the pool until we came to the three black stone reef dragon gods. We walked along the chest high body of the guarding reef dragon to reach the front of the great standing reef dragon god.

'Here is where the offerings were placed,' I said, pointing to a large hollowed stone coffer at its base.

Sella peered into its black depths. 'That's not fair! Where's our treasure? You're a pretty rotten Zar Lada,' she added, turning to me.

I shrugged, and flashed my lantern into the nearly pitch blackness beyond the statues. The darkness appeared to stretch some ways into the island. The light beam picked out those piles of wooden debris that had once been the residences of the temple's priests and servants. 'Maybe the treasure is in the coffers in the back rooms,' I said. 'Let's have a look.'

'You'd better be right.'

I was wrong. Though we could trace out the lines of rooms that the Tika had erected with wood panels, now collapsed into rotting piles, there seemed little else.

'It does not look like this temple was abandoned in haste,' I noted, flashing my torch about. 'This looks to be mostly wall panels and such.'

'How can we find the treasure if we're not allowed to dig through this rubble?' she asked, pouting, when I told them to leave everything as it was.

'Look for the glint of gold in the rubble,' I said. 'Look, but don't touch. We're not looters, we're archaeologists.'

'We are? How come Zar Lada always ended up with the treasures?' replied Sella who was clearly having fun. Bren, on the other hand, did not say much. But then, that wasn't unusual since the crew, save Saffe, were always pretty quiet when in the presence of Sella, the daughter of, and someday captain of Vente.

'Zar may've often found treasure, but he rarely ended up with any – either the bad guys made off with it – but because it was cursed, came to a sticky end. Or the poor island prince or princess who really needed it, ended up with just enough to make them happy,' I replied, as I flashed my torch about. 'Though I don't know why I'm explaining Zar Lada books to you.'

'Hummm if I'd known that...' she laughed. 'I wouldn't have been quite as excited to leave the boat to search for a temple...'

There was a faint flicker, followed by the still distant rolling of thunder.

'Speaking of the boat, I think we should be getting back to the Starsea,' said Sella. 'Unless we want to get really wet.'

I nodded. 'Right. Just give me a minute to copy the text from that memorial tablet we passed on the way here. That may help me put a date on this place,' I said, turning towards the pool and the tablet. 'Start out, I'll catch up with you.'

'Write fast,' Sella called out as she and Bren headed for the trio of statues and the entryway beyond them.

I wasn't given even a minute after I reached the tablet. I had hardly started copying the text when a knee high wave of water swished around me. I spun about to see the pool overflowing in waves of water.

'Taef! Trouble! Run!' Sella called out from the other side of the pool.

Trouble indeed, for with the rising water level came reef dragons. Lots of them.

Across the way Sella and Bren had to turn back, and run – or rather splash back to the three great statues as four or five living reef dragons had climbed onto the pavement between them and the steps that led to the entrance.

There were no reef dragons between me and the statues, but I found with a quick glance to my right that as many, or more, had landed on my side of the pool as well, with the closest one not twenty paces from me. He opened his wide, toothy jaws and bellowed in delight when he saw me.

Now reef dragons generally move about in a rather majestic manner as befitting the lord and master of the reef and beaches they care to inhabit. They can, however, put on a surprising burst of speed when they care to. Like when they're hungry.

I didn't hesitate, but turned and ran, splashing through the shin deep water, for the statues, as Sella and Bren had. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the reef dragon straightened up his crooked legs, and start off as well, so the race was on.

I managed to reach the tail of the long low reef dragon statue first, though I could hear him splashing and grunting close behind me. The Tika's blocky design allowed me to quickly climb to the meter wide back of the reef dragon statue by running up its tail made up of a series of shallow steps. I paused for a second, halfway along its back, to glance back to see what the real reef dragon had chosen to do.

He hadn't followed me up the statue, but also hadn't followed me on the poolside of the statue as I had hoped. He had chosen to take to the inside, and was now not five paces behind me, cutting me off from the standing reef dragon statue that Sella and Bren were now crawling up, its tail and arching back to its broad head high overhead.

I was certain that I wasn't safe here. I don't know if reef dragons could actually rear up on their hind feet, but I was pretty sure, he could rear high enough to get his forefeet on the top of the statue to pull me down if I let him get close enough. Or if I allowed more of his clan to join in the chase. So I raced on, towards the head of the statue. I glanced back. I still had a several pace lead. Looking ahead I could see more reef dragons. However, they were still thirty or more paces away. Far enough, I thought. Not that I had much of a choice.

On reaching the tip of the reef dragon's nose, I leaped for the stone offering box at the foot of the standing statue, landing on its inner edge, under the jaws the stone reef dragon high over head. Two quick, teetering steps, took me to its far side, leaving the pursuing reef dragon on the other side of the statue.

I jumped down and ran along the statue's far side until I could vault onto the highest block I could reach. From there, I swiftly climbed the steep steps up its broad, arching back to take a seat on one of the narrow steps below Sella and Bren, just below the neck of the stone reef dragon, well out of reach of the tallest reef dragon.

My pursuer, on the other side, grunted with frustration as it watched me climb to safety, and then yawned and licked its teeth to show its indifference to my escape. At least for the moment.

Bren had unslung his rifle and was eyeing the reef dragon alongside while Sella, seeing me safe, laughed, 'Quick thinking, Zar! I would imagine that it was like one of your books come to life.'

I couldn't think of a witty reply, and well, between the beating of my heart and catching my breath, I probably couldn't have replied anyway. After a few moments, I asked, 'What, in the name of the fire-gods, is going on? It can't be the tide. They'd never build it low enough that it would flood with high tide.'

'It's likely a storm surge from the approaching storm,' said Bren. 'It probably won't be too long before it starts to go down again. But what are the reef dragons doing here?'

'I haven't a clue,' I said, as the lightning flickered again, followed by a crash of thunder.

'Maybe they're afraid of lightning,' said Sella, still in roaring good spirits. 'I bet they're are our pals from the cove next door. So what do we do next, Zar?'

'I haven't a clue about that either.'

'Hmm. With that type of attitude we might be here for a while. Did anyone think to bring something to eat? I'm feeling a little peckish.'

Bren and I shook our heads no.

'Then we definitely need an escape plan. You've read all Zar Lada's books, Taef. What would Zar do?'

I gave her a wondering look. Maybe that carefree attitude came with being a sorceress. Still, I suppose we were safe enough, for now, perched high on the statue. Even if reef dragons could rear up on their hind legs. we'd be out of reach of them. But still... As I looked around, I could see that the full company of reef dragons from the cove, several dozen in all, had joined us. They were making themselves at home on the pavement alongside the pool. I counted eleven of them between us and the steps, plus the six or seven settling themselves down around the statues below us, perhaps on the off chance we'd fall off.

Our revolvers would only annoy them, for they, like the armorfish, had thick, armored hides. The rifle would do more than annoy them, but given their numbers, shooting our way clear didn't seem to be an option.

'Have you come up with a plan yet, Zar?' Sella asked, after another flash of lightning

'Well, if I were Zar, I would first assure you that you shouldn't worry. Everything will turn out alright. I'm here to look after you.'

'I feel calmer already,' she laughed.

'And then I would ask if you were brave enough to stay here all by yourselves while I go for help.'

'I think we might be able to manage that.'

'Excellent. Then, if I were Zar, I'd slip past you, and climb to the top of the statue, and out to the tip of its jaws. Then, after making sure I knew where every reef dragon was, I'd dive into the pool, quickly swim for those vines, and on reaching them, start climbing, no doubt with half a dozen reef dragons snapping at my heels. I'd climb all the way to the top, fight my way through the jungle and bring back the well armed crew of the Starsea, to chase away the reef dragons and rescue you.'

'Sounds like an excellent plan to me. Scoot over, Bren and let Zar, that is to say Taef slip by.'

'Stay where you are, Bren. Let me catch my breath first,' I replied, and settled back against the stone on the narrow ledge below Bren.

'You're not going to do it, are you?' she asked with mock suspicion.

'No.'

'Why not?'

'Because, unfortunately for you, you're not treed on a reef dragon god, surrounded by real reef dragons, with Zar Lada, Island Explorer.'

'Well, does Lieutenant, LT, Lang have a better plan?

'No. But then, I'm pretty comfortable here at the moment. And, well, seeing that you're a Sorceress of Vente, why do I need to make a plan? You can certainly deal with a few dozen reef dragons. I can't imagine that's beyond your powers. What with your black hair, and all.'

'I'm pretty comfortable here, myself,' she replied with a dismissive shrug and a smile.

'Your little sister knocked out three Banjar pirates with little more than a look.'

'One bullet will kill a Banjar pirate. It takes more than one to kill a reef dragon. Magic works the same way. And well, I count more than three reef dragons between us and the entryway,' she replied smugly.

I smiled and nodded, 'A reasonable excuse. But well, here we are... I guess our best, and only plan, is to just sit here and wait for the situation to change in our favor.'

Bren, however, was having none of that. 'Look, the water is already receding,' he said, pointing down to the pool. 'The surge is already passing the island. Once the water returns to normal, the sudden noise of a few gun shots should send the reef dragons scurrying back into the pool, and we can just walk out.'

'An excellent plan, Bren. Brilliant in its simplicity.'

'Good thinking, Bren,' said Sella with a bright smile. 'Well done.'

Which was enough to make him blush.

So we settled in and made ourselves as comfortable, as we could, sitting on the steep, narrow steeps of the god's stone back in the flashing gloom. Soon the wind was howling through the opening overhead and the rain was swirling down between the lacy curtains of vines. After much grunting, and yawning, the reef dragons settled down to apparently wait out the storm.

It took perhaps half an hour for the water to recede to its original level – a level that once the reef dragons were in the pool they would not be able to climb out again. The only question in my mind was if the sound of gunshots would scare the reef dragons, as, I said, simply shooting our way out was not likely an option.

'Shall we?' asked Sella, drawing her revolver.

'Just fire over them,' said Bren, taking ownership of his plan. 'The noise should be enough to send them back into the pool, as I doubt that they've ever been hunted on this island. Plus, we don't want to have to deal with a wounded and a very angry reef dragon. They're very clannish, these reef dragons.'

'Right,' I said, but I had to turn away to hide my smile. It is not coincidence that the Tika worshiped reef dragons. Reef dragons hold a special place in the hearts of islanders. They're respected, and in many island cultures, considered wise as well. Unlike the armorfish which are both killed and eaten with relish, the great pale tan and white reef dragons – with just as many teeth in their wide mouths as the armorfish – are never hunted. Of course, you respected them, avoided them, and you never gave them a chance to lunch on you, when you could help it. And yet, strangely enough, it was often the case of live and let live on both sides, though my pursuer apparently hadn't read that page.

I was enough of an islander to respect that view. The two "napping" dragons directly below us may have been playing coy, but you have to admit that they weren't at all rude. No roaring, no posturing, no futile attempts to scale the statue of them – they were secure in their position as monarchs of the reefs and beaches.

Our first volley, the bang of the rifle, and the cracks of the revolvers echoed around the vast chamber. It woke them up, and had them looking around. The second volley had them on their feet and grunting. The two below us gave us what seemed like a reproachful look with their black eyes, and waited for the third volley to waddle off, begrudgingly, towards the pool – not sure from what they were retreating, but all the others were too. It took a fourth volley to send most of the beasts into the pool and clear the pavement to the entryway of reef dragons. There were still a few holdouts on the far side, but we decided to save our bullets for our escape.

We quickly scrambled down the tail of the statue, jumped to the pavement, and raced for the entryway steps. We made them without incident, and after climbing the steps we stopped to don our oil cloth jackets before venturing out, and into the storm.

The trail up was like walking through a dark and flickering waterfall. Oil cloth or not, we were all soaking wet by the time we reached the windblown ridge line.

While protected by the volcanic peak from the full strength of the storm, the winds still tore around us, tugging and pulling at us as we crossed it in a crouch, holding hands. Given the winds, I was far from sure that it was wise to attempt to make our way back down the narrow path along the cliff, but standing about in the flickering storm wasn't much of an option either. Nor was going back. So, after a brief, yelled discussion, it was decided to proceed, carefully.

Holding hands, with Sella in the middle, we carefully edged our way down, our backs against the cliff wall, taking advantage of every vine and creeper to prevent the wind from tearing us off the path, and tossing us into the cove below. However, by the time we were halfway down, the sheltering hills had blunted the fierceness of the winds, and the going was easier. Saffe had been watching for our return through the falling rain, so he had the dinghy there waiting for us. Before I climbed down into it, I glanced across to the beach. Sure enough, the reef dragons were nowhere to be seen. While the water of the cove heaved and sloshed back and forth, from the storm swell, all there was of the wind, was its roar overhead, so our short journey back to the boat was quick and easy.

Back on the Starsea, we told of our discovery and adventure over mugs of hot kaf and bowls of island root and cabbage soup.

The typhoon lasted the better part of two days, during which time I transferred my few waterlogged notes to a fresh notebook. We sailed as soon as wind and rain died down, without returning to the temple.

I didn't object.

The Dar Fu Island find, with it superbly preserved statues, would be a very valuable find in island archaeology. If I could return with a proper team to explore the site, I would make a name for myself. However, whether or not I would ever be in a position to return was an open question. A very open question.

Chapter 05 Tara and Vente Island

01

We reached Vente waters seven days after sailing from Dar Fu and dropped anchor in the harbor of Tara, Vente Island's main seaport on the morning of the eighth day.

Vente Island proved not to be as I had envisioned it. It was not a typical Tropic Sea volcanic island, but rather a little crumb of the northern continent of Norterra, 50 kilometers to the north. It was twice the size of Fey Lon, and though it had a few ancient volcanoes, it was a mostly flat island, covered with an intricate quilt of farm fields and batto tree plantations.

Its busy harbor was sheltered by a wide bay. The harbor was filled with island trading ships and, surprisingly, a sprinkling of steam, and steam assisted, ships as well. Sella said that the Vente traded exclusively with a select group of islands and traders, who acted as middlemen for Vente exports and imports. She also said that trade was funneled entirely through Tara, hence the volume of trade in the harbor. I gathered that these selected trading partners were bound by strict rules, keeping their (lucrative) business with the Vente confidential. I saw no mention of this in the Admiralty files, so the system worked well.

'I am going to stash you at our family estate in the upcountry for perhaps a week or two, while I smooth over things with Grandfather and, hopefully, convince him to summon Lessie back from exile,' she said as the Starsea carefully edged its way through the busy harbor for the government wharf. 'No doubt he'll have a few heated words to say regarding his granddaughters' habit of commandeering government boats on a whim, along with the use of command tokens that they had no business possessing. Still, I'm sure it will all work out, once he understands that she acted out of a romantic impulse to see her true love and his potential grandson-in-law.'

'I'm neither.'

'You're the most likely prospect.'

'In your dreams.' Though, given her sour nature, that might be true; I might be the most likely prospect, though no likelier than any other fellow.

'And in hers,' she replied with a sinister little laugh. 'In any event, you might want to adjust your thinking while you wait to be summoned.'

I was in no position to object, and saw no reason to. In my role as an intelligence agent, Tara and Vente Island were gold mines of hitherto unknown information, even if it was still an open question as to how much of all this I could report on. However, given that there were non-Vente traders in Tara, I could make the case that an enterprising Aerlonian political officer could've made his way here, say, as a crew member of one of those non-Vente traders, and recorded all that I was seeing. In other words, all this was fair game.

We docked at a government wharf where I said goodbye to my shipmates. Sella would return to the Starsea upon "stashing" me at their country estate, and sail on to Teravena, the capital city of the Vente.

I was surprised to find that, unlike every other port I'd seen, continental or island, the Vente built permanent buildings right down to the sea. While they had floating wharves, their tall, very solid looking warehouses were build right across a narrow street from them. These warehouses had jutting turrets with long cranes that moved the cargo from the ship to wagons or the warehouses. The Vente seemed content to rely on their fortress-like stone warehouses to withstand the periodic tsunamis.

'Tsunamis that are more than a couple of meters high are very uncommon in these waters. But they do happen – Lessie and I were orphaned by one such tsunami,' she added, with a little shrug, as we wove our way through the wagons, carts, and bustling stevedores that filled the narrow street between wharf and warehouses.

We stopped in the shade of a little side street between two towering warehouses. She gave me a long, critical look, and sadly shook her head. 'You look like a down on his luck beach hermit. I really can't take you around town, much less up to Nar Varu, looking like this.'

'Sorry. But as you may recall, I wasn't given time to pack. Fifteen days with one set of clothes on a small boat will create that effect.'

'Yes, yes. My fault, entirely, so I must remedy it,' she said grandly. And looking up at the sky, added, 'It's nearly lunch time, but I can hardly take you around to the Cafe Vente as you are, so we must shop first. In any event, we'd need to get you looking like a proper Vente young man – with prospects – for our plan to succeed.'

'Thank you. I'd appreciate that. And a razor,' I added, scratching my fifteen day old beard.

'Yes, and a razor,' she agreed, with a smile.

And with that settled, we started up the narrow street to climb the hill to reach the city proper.

Close up, Tara still looked much like any continental city of the same size – solid, two and three story buildings, built to withstand earthquakes. Architecturally, the city had much in common with cosmopolitan island cities, which, in turn, had much in common with the continental cities. The wide, tree lined boulevards were busy with both horse-drawn wagons and carriages, and self-propelled vehicles powered by either electric current or oil engines.

'It's rather amazing how much Tara looks like modern continental cities,' I said as we turned down the wide boulevard from the narrow lane.

'We're all Children of the Founders,' she replied airily.

'Why, you still use the old style Founders' characters!' I exclaimed when I saw the store signs. The characters used on the southern continents, and in the islands, were a simpler form of the Founders' original writing. While, from my studies at the university, I could read the old style without a problem, an average Aerlonian, or islander, would have to struggle to read them, though they probably could decipher most, if only by context.

'We are all Children of the Founders,' she replied, again. 'We are, in fact, direct descendants of the Founders' northern most outpost. It was a small one, and perhaps because of that, we retained much of the Founders' culture, including their writing.

'The two southern continents, on the other hand, being longer settled and much more populated, and more dependent on City One, were unable to maintain a cohesive society after the destruction of City One, and so they fell much further, much faster. That, at any rate, is what my tutors would have me believe,' she added with a smile. 'No doubt you know much more about such things.'

'Oh, it's true enough. We fell far. However, the Founders' embers never quite went out. Their ideals were preserved for thousands of years by the Founders' Institutes on both continents.'

She nodded. 'And by the Vente who crossed the Tropic Sea to keep those institutes alive by blowing on those embers, making sure they didn't go out.'

'Really?'

'It has been our mission to keep the memory of the Founders alive. We have never been out of contact with the southern continents. Even today, students, scholars, engineers, and others study, travel, and live in the southern continents. They serve to cross pollinate our society with that of the southern continents, bringing back your useful inventions, and seeding some of our own as well.

I had to believe her. 'I suppose that explains why Tara looks so familiar. But why are you so secretive then?'

She gave a little shrug. 'In the past we feared that if the various continental empires knew more about us, we might not be powerful enough to defend ourselves, if they decided to conquer us. Today, I think it is more tradition than anything else. And, as you said, like it or not, it will likely come to an end in our lifetime. That is why I'm comfortable bringing you here. All this will not be a secret for long.'

We talked about this for a few more blocks until we reached Taleth & Kin, the shop Sella had chosen to outfit me as a Vente.

Either Sella was a very efficient shopper, or very hungry, since she took remarkably little time selecting, and purchasing, a modest wardrobe of Vente style clothing for the young man – with the necessary prospects – to marry the granddaughter of the Captain of the Vente. All I had to do was to make certain they fit. Since I found nothing in the Vente style to object to – it could be seen as either casual Aerlonian, or formal island style; trousers and shirts in darker, plain fabrics, all that was left for me to do was say, 'Yes, dear... If you say so, dear,' much to her delight. Indeed, so agreeable was I, that we purchased everything I needed, from shoes to the light woven-grass hat at Taleth & Kin. I wore the last set of clothes out, carrying the rest of my new wardrobe neatly rolled up inside a new oiled canvas roll-pack.

'Nothing can be done about those whiskers, at present. What can't be cured, must be endured' she said, shaking her head, after giving me a long, and slightly more approving inspection. 'Let's step around the corner to the Cafe Vente, I'm starving for something more than rice and cabbage stew.'

We dined on the Cafe Vente's terrace overlooking the towering warehouses and the blue water harbor dotted with ships. We didn't linger over kaf, but paid our bill and stepped back out onto the shady, tree lined boulevard.

'You can ride, can't you?' she asked, giving me a challenging look to let me know she'd not appreciate a "No" for an answer.

'I have, on occasions – a few picnic outings during my time at the university. Not a lot of horses on Lil Lon.'

'Good enough. It's only a couple of hours ride out to Nar Varu. There is a livery stable up the hill. I want to get you settled and be back on the Starsea by nightfall. Let's go.'

02

An hour later we had the long, sun washed gravel road to ourselves. Lush farm fields and batto groves stretched away to the light blue horizon around us. Tree shaded farmsteads and estates, lay here and there in the green fields, in the dazzling sunlight. Birds soared overhead, against the bright blue sky and the soft white clouds. Dragonflies zipped by, while butterflies floated lazily over the tall grass and wild flowers lining the road.

Nar Varu could not have been very far out of Tara, since, in spite of her apparent hurry, we rode at a, thankfully, easy pace.

'I will sail this evening for Teravena for my talk with Grandfather. If all goes well, it will take a week to summon Lessie from exile. I'll then return to bring you on to Teravena, once she's been summoned.'

'Growing a bit cautious, are we?'

She smiled. 'No point taking chances. It would be a shame to have you end up in the Vente version of the reef dragon pool. Grandfather does have a temper. It may take me a few days to smooth things over, so it could be longer.'

'What is the Vente version of the reef dragon pool?'

She gave me a long serious look, and decided not to say. 'Don't worry about it.'

While I think she was just having fun, I did not press the issue. I didn't need one more thing to worry about.

She continued, 'Lessie is going to be the main problem. She's locked away at a remote location, and I can't see her to clue her in, before I report to Grandfather. Now if he summons her to the Residence, I can probably tip her off to our plan before she sees Grandfather. But if not, we'll just have to rely on her following my lead... That might be just a little iffy...'

'Iffy? Lessie going on about her lovelorn quest to find her suitor? It's going to be more than iffy. Take my word for it. She will not be able to appear to be lovestruck over me without hours of practice before a mirror.'

She laughed. 'I'll make a note about that. Practice looking lovestruck. That should be a great laugh. Still, I wouldn't worry too much. We've been in and out of scrapes like this all our lives. She'll follow my line. My biggest worry is that he won't summon her, or will send someone to question her, before I can tip her off. That's the main reason why I don't plan to bring you on stage until I have the situation well in hand, and with decent chance of pulling it off. Once she's free, we can all then continue with Lessie's quest, after your marriage.'

'Now, I know that you're just teasing me. But to be absolutely clear, I'm not marrying Lessie.'

'If Lessie wants to marry you, you'll marry Lessie.'

'I beg to differ. However, the point is mute. Lessie's infatuation with me is either wishful thinking, or teasing, on your part.'

'I want her to find happiness. I truly believe that she gave you her golden key to be able to see you again. It will all work out, you'll see.'

'And if it doesn't?'

She sighed. 'I'll see that you get home, one way or another. Since you have the golden key, we need you safe and back on Lil Lon. If I can't take you back myself, I'll find you a berth on one of the island traders, and you can work your way back from those islands on your own.'

I nodded. 'Fair enough. And if I find myself in the Vente version of the reef dragon pool?'

'Oh, don't be so gloomy. It would only be a prison cell. I'll take the blame for everything. It'll take nothing to convince Grandfather of that. At worst, you might have to spend a few years, in prison, until you can convince Grandfather that you would never reveal our most closely guarded secrets.'

'I, however, am prepared to trust you on your word, And just to be clear, what you see here,' she swept her arm to include the whole island, 'Is what I promised you. You're free to use what you see to get back into the good graces of your boss back in Lil Lon. It should be worth something.'

'I'm sure it is. Our Vente file is very thin and mostly second hand accounts and hearsay.'

'However, what you see in Teravena, if you find yourself there, will be the secrets I'll expect you to keep.' She thought for a moment, and then added, 'All I need is your word of honor that you will keep our secrets, secret. In return, I will see that you get home safely.' And with that she gave me a rare, authentically, serious look.

I nodded. 'I promise to reveal only what you allow me to, unless it involves the safety of my country. In which case, I will make my objections clear.'

She nodded. 'Fair enough. I don't think you need worry on that account.'

03

Nar Varu was a picturesque collection of a dozen or so golden brick buildings at the end of a long, tree lined gravel drive. Besides the big house, with its ornately carved two story veranda, there were four guests' cottages around back, set in a large, formal garden. I was given one for my stay. The working part of the estate, the barns, sheds, and factories for the sugar cane and the Batto meal and oil, lay beyond the garden wall.

Sella was warmly welcomed by the estate's majordomo, Crey Del. She introduced me as a new friend of hers. The story we had concocted, was that I was the son of one of their trading partners, with a passion for island history. Sella had promised to approach her grandfather to fund an expedition to excavate a ruin on a small island. Sella added, in an aside to Crey Del, that she wanted to see what sort of temper he was in, before introducing me to him.

Crey Del took that news with a knowing smile, as she had assured me he would. 'He's an old sweatheart and a sport. You can trust him, and the rest of the staff as well. They know Lessie and I very well. They won't pry. Just be discreet.'

Luckily there were no other guests. And so, within an hour, Sella was on her way again, leaving me in the friendly hands of Crey Del and the small staff that looked after the house.

I was served dinner in the cottage, but after that, I just took my meals in the kitchen with the rest of the staff. The best lies are 95% truth, so over my meals, I simply cast myself a trader's son with a passion for archaeology, and described our find at Dar Fu, without naming it. I had to be rather vague about how Sella came to know me, but as she said, they didn't pry. I got the impression that it was largely immaterial what my cover story was. They knew the twins well, so they probably didn't believe a word I said.

To my surprise, I found that the big house had a library, with two walls of books, which served to reinforce the impression that the Vente were something more than islanders with a reputation for sorcery. You didn't find libraries of that size in the private homes of even wealthy islanders. While I was sorely tempted to investigate its books, I decided that it would not be prudent. No doubt the books contained secrets I would need to keep. So, despite my curiosity, I felt that it would be easier on my conscience not to have all those secrets to keep, once I reported back to Lil Lon.

04

The twin ruts of the farm lane stretched ahead through the sun drenched farm fields to the horizon line. Barka, the estate dog who had either adopted me, or been mysteriously assigned to keep an eye on me, ranged on ahead, searching the tall grass on either side of the lane for whatever dogs find interesting.

I knew that the lane and fields ended not ten minutes ahead, at the edge of a steep hill that overlooked more fields and batto groves falling gently to the sea; that was from here a thin dark blue line between the light blue sky and the lush green fields. I had walked this lane, and several others, over the last three days. Fifteen days on a small boat had given me an appetite for stretching my legs. These solitary walks had also given me enough time to question what I was doing here and why I hadn't lifted a finger to escape. Since I was a guest, not prisoner, I could have walked to Port Tara in several hours and tried my own hand at getting signed on to an island trader, and escaped. And, I reminded myself, I was still a Lieutenant LT in the Aerlonian navy. Did I need to know more than what I did already? Could I really justify staying on?

'Taef!'

I turned back to see Sella on horseback trotting up the lane. She waved, and I waved back and waited for her. That settled those questions.

Barka, hearing her voice, looped past me to greet her, tail wagging.

'Hello, Sella. You're back early. Things not go as planned?' I asked as she reined up beside me, quickly dismounted, stooped to give Barka a hug. And then, wiping his kiss from her nose, stood, and looking a me, started back in alarm.

'What?'

'That,' she replied, pointing a shaking hand in the direction of my face. That...'

'What?'

'That thing on your face.'

'Oh, you mean my mustache?'

'Yes, I suppose that's what it must be...'

'I thought Lessie might like it,' I said airily.

'You're lying, Lang. No one could like it.'

I beamed. 'Better safe than sorry.'

'Still, if anyone could, it would be my poor, unhappy sister. Born the second of twins, with pale hair, and now a lover with a growth like that under his nose; it would be the complete package.' She laughed, and then to my surprise she gave me a brief, sisterly hug, carefully shying away from my mustache. 'I am so happy to see that you are still here!' she added as she stepped back, as if she had been reading my mind.

'I shouldn't be, you know. But...'

She reached out and gave my arm a gentle squeeze. 'Yes, I know. It will make Lessie happy, mustache and all.'

I gave her a rather startled glance. 'I wasn't thinking of Lessie. I was thinking of you...'

'Taef, please don't.'

'Oh, not in that way, exactly. In a way, well, I guess, of repaying your trust. If I should decide to run, I won't do it behind your back.'

'Because we're friends,' she said, watching me carefully.

'Yes, because we're friends. And because you trusted me. So how did it go with your grandfather? Can I assume that since you're back early, it did not go as expected.'

Her face fell a little. 'Oh, I guess it went about as well as could be expected.'

'Which is to say, not well at all.'

She laughed, her natural cheerfulness returning in a flash. 'I'm here, so it could've been worse. Let's walk back to the villa, I have a lot to say to you, and if you choose to continue to help me, you have a boat to catch this evening,' she added, taking my hand to pull me along with her.

'A boat to where?' I asked as I fell in step with her, with the horse following behind us, led by a slack bridle she held in her left hand and Barka ranging up ahead, again.

'All in good time. First Grandfather. I knew that this plan was something of a long shot...'

It was my turn to laugh.

'Still, it was worth a try,' she said defiantly, or rather tried to, and failed. 'Anyway, I thought that the story of Lessie's passionate love would at least lighten Grandfather's mood a little and soften his inevitable anger. And, at worst, throw a little sand in his eyes... But he didn't even let me get started before he cut me off with "Enough of this foolishness. Do you really take me for that much of a fool?"

'Of course I had to answer, "Why no, of course not, Grandfather." But for some reason he didn't seem to believe me. Instead, he launched into a long, and very familiar rant about Lessie and me, touching on our complete disrespect and disregard for everything he said, and asked of us. Nothing new there,' she said with a shrug, adding bitterly, 'It's not like I sunk the Starsea, like Lessie sank the Sealight. Nevertheless, he went on and on about how he had forbidden me to borrow a government boat ever again, without his direct approval. And how, a mere two months after laying down this rule, I went and borrowed the Starsea and its crew, as if he had never said anything at all...'

'It sounds like he had a point.'

'Oh, he always has a point. But necessity must be served,' she added with a defiant grin. 'Grandfather's anger was always going to be a given. But I had hoped that by suggesting that Lessie's commandeering of the Sealight could be explained, she might be released from exile. I also hoped that by suggesting that if she could be made your problem, my dear Taef, Grandfather might find the prospect worth pushing it along...'

'My problem? She's not my problem.'

'A happy Lessie would be no problem at all for anyone. And I'm certain that you will make her happy...'

'Oh, never mind. I'm not going to argue about that again, and again. So what happened next?'

'Luckily, Grandfather went on so long about my shortcomings as a granddaughter, and his despair of me ever growing up to be a future Captain, that I had plenty of time to organize my plan of action in my head. I could easily tune him out – I know his speeches by heart – and insert my objections right on cue. I had worked out the outlines of plan two, in my head, by the time he dismissed me to quarters to await my punishment.'

'I think it's plan three. Plan two was the one that just exploded in your face.'

'Yes, you could be right. I do tend to lose track of my plan numbers. Not that it matters,' she laughed. 'In any event, I knew exactly what I needed to do when I left Grandfather's office. And it wasn't returning to my quarters to await word on how I was to be punished. I realized that I had a very narrow window to act before the gates of some sort of prison closed in on me, as they had on Lessie. So I quickly slipped away from the two young aides that Grandfather had assigned to guard me.

'I feel sorry for them. Grandfather is not going to be happy with them.

'I then secured the necessary funding, plus a few other items from my quarters before slipping out of the Residence complex, unseen, as I have been doing since I was six. My luck held, and I was able to catch the daily boat to Tara within minutes of its departure. So, at the moment, I believe that I have a sizable lead on any possible pursuit. However, we must act with dispatch to ensure that we both get to sea again, before Grandfather realizes that I have escaped, not only the Residence, but Teraven entirely.'

'And plan three is?'

'Plan three is to spring Lessie, sail for Fey Lon aboard our very own Night Song – a trim 12 meter sailing yacht that we inherited from our parents. There we will collect the key from you, and then sail on to wherever Lessie was bound to, to unlock its treasure.'

Which, in a flash, I realized was likely Sella's plan all along.

'Just the three of us?'

She shrugged, and gave me a sidelong look. 'I can't promise that. Lessie and I can sail the Night Song by ourselves. We've taken the Night Song all around the Vente islands alone before. You will, of course, sail with us to Fey Lon, since we will need you to collect the golden key. Unless you care to tell me where to find it. If you choose to do that, I will make arrangements for you to get home in a nice safe, roundabout way and we can forget plan ...'

'Three. And I don't think so.'

'Well then, it's plan three. Still, you must go so as a pure volunteer. I'll give you passage money for one of our trading partners' ships here and now. The choice is yours. I will say this; if you decide to stay on to help me free Lessie, everything you will learn will be under your promise of secrecy. But you will learn a lot. I don't think that you will regret it.'

'What exactly does plan three, that I won't regret, involve?' I asked, with some trepidation, since I had a feeling that I'd not be able to refuse anything Sella proposed.

'To put it simply, I will sail the Night Song to a small harbor, while you will travel, alone, to where Lessie is being held, armed with a forged letter and a command token. The letter and token will give you the authority to free Lessie, in order to return her to Teravena. When you meet Lessie, you will inform her of our plan, the prospects of which, will certainly motivate her to make her escape. You can rely on Lessie to handle the escape, and any complications arising out of your deception. She's an old hand at this sort of thing. She will see you safely to where I will have the Night Song waiting. When you and Lessie arrive, we'll sail to Fey Lon and pick up the golden key. After that, well, we'll see how it all plays out.'

'Why can't we both sail the Night Song to this harbor and both go to collect Lessie?'

'First, because it's a matter of time. We must act fast to ensure that Grandfather doesn't do something to change the present conditions. Second, I am not allowed to talk to Lessie. And even if I could contrive that, she may not fall in with my plan. Thirdly, you will be able to use a command token. It will no longer work for me. Grandfather said that he's issued a memo to all his officials that his granddaughters are never authorized to use command tokens. So only you could use one to spring Lessie, along with the story that she's summoned back to Teravena. Plus, wherever you go, you'd be unknown. The same cannot be said for me. You can travel freely, while I would have to slink about with a price on my head. I'll provide all the necessary funds, and all the directions necessary for an enterprising lieutenant in the Aerlonian navy to find his way to a large city, and a large house in that city. I've all the necessary funds, maps, and instructions back at the villa. If you give me your word that you'll keep what I show you secret, I'll go over them with you before you decide. If you then decide to help me, we'll go down to Port Tara and I'll see you aboard the night boat to Teravena'

Chapter 06 Travels in Teraven

01

I boarded the night boat to Teravena, using Sella's return ticket. Saying "No" to Sella was, as I feared, beyond my ability. She was a Vente sorceress, and it seemed her sorcery was the ability to get me to do whatever she wanted me to do. Of the twin sisters, she was, by far, the more dangerous one.

Standing on the dock in the quickly falling twilight, before I boarded, she took my arm and said; 'Three words of advice. 'First, it will be a bit chilly in Karitasha at this time of year, so you might want to purchase a wool vest. It also rains frequently in Kari Province at this time of year, so pick up an oil cloth jacket as well. Jun and Dara on Nightsky Street offer a nice selection of both. Their shop is not far from the train station.

'Secondly, If you care to know more about Teraven history, I would suggest Du Sun Sewja's "A Concise History of Teraven; From the Founders to the Present." It is relatively concise, and with a four day train journey ahead of you, you'll have plenty of time to read it. Huntine's Bookstore is right across the street from the station. They should have it in stock.

'And lastly, Lessie. The key to dealing with her dark looks and sharp tongue is a patient kindness. Not pity, mind you. She hates pity. Kindness. And patience. Trust me, if you are kind and patient with her, you will win her trust and respect. And her cooperation, which you'll need if you ever hope to see Lil Lon again...

'Oh, and you can't go wrong dining at Yin's Feast. They're a chain of dining houses across the street from all the train stations from Teravena to Karitasha. Good food, modest prices, fast service. You can eat a whole meal during the long stops with time to spare.'

'That's four words of advice.'

'That's because I like you, Taef Lang. Good luck.'

02

I stood on the pale wood deck in the light of the two moons and reviewed just why I found myself here, sailing for the secret country of Teraven.

During our walk back to the villa, and over the dining table in the cottage covered with maps and train schedules, she had eagerly outlined the logistics of my mission.

'Having spent all those years in Aerlonia, I don't think you'll find Teraven all that strange. If you should find yourself at a loss or questioned at any point, just say that you are an islander and this is your first time on the "Big Island." That explanation can be used to explain your accent, your ignorance, even your uncouth mustache.' And then. she went on to brief me on just what islands I should claim as my own – some very small and fringe ones.

On our way to Tara to catch the night boat she briefly outlined the history of Teraven, the secret nation in the heart of the Norterra continent.

It is, however, well beyond the scope of this account to delve deeply into even a concise history of Teraven. You can consult Sawja's book for that. But to get me a little familiar with Teraven, she explained that I would find a fully modern nation that encompassed half of the interior of Norterra. It consisted of a wide upland valley drained by the river Venten. Its western border was a 3,000 kilometer long, 500 meter high, escarpment that towered over a narrow band of coastal jungles and forests. To the north and east, it was shielded by a chain of rugged mountains and wild jungles and forests. The coastal tribes kept every Aerlonian and Kanadora explorer from ever reaching either the escarpment or the mountains. To the south, the Vente Islands and their inhabitants fiercely guarded the great bay and mouth of the Venten River.

While the Founders' settlements in the southern continents drifted downward to savage tribes and warring nations after City One was swept into the sea, Teraven held on to its Founders' society and machines, while they kept the embers of the Founders glowing in the southern continents. In the four thousand plus years since the founding, most of the machines of the Founders slowly died, along with the knowledge to repair them. However, many of the scientific principles were never completely lost. For example, Sella said that the electric current motor of the Starsea was Teraven-built, but its electric current power was provided by one of the very rare working Founders' power pods. Machines like this are all very rare – which made its loss all that more unfortunate. I gathered that the stories of sorcery the Vente were famous for, can be traced to these last working Founders' machines.

'And Lessie's ability to strike down pirates? Is that the product of a Founders' machine?' I asked.

Sella smiled, 'There are some secrets that, even I, am unwilling to share with you. Ask Lessie, if you dare.'

With the revelation of the continental Teraven, and Sella's stories about Vente, keeping the embers of the Founders glowing in the southern continents made a lot more sense, as well as their secret contacts with modern Aerlonia and Feldara. The scale of those contacts had seemed out of character for mere islanders.

In any event, Sella assured me that I would find Teravena, and all of Teraven, much like Aerlonia, given the long history of cross pollination between the continents.

As for my mission, it was to collect Lessie, who was being held as a guest in Hawker House, the provincial governor's townhouse in Karitasha, a four day's journey north, by train, from the capital city of Teravena.

She provided me with money, maps, rail timetables, and a tourist's guide book to Teraven. She also provided me with a letter of authority, on official Government letterhead, stamped, and signed with a very convincing signature of Captain Vin Raah. It authorized "Lieutenant Taef Laek," the name I was to use in Teraven, to meet, talk privately with, and possibly take, Lessie Raah into his charge. Sella assured me that they were so adept at signing "Vin Raah" in their Grandfather's hand, that, even he, would be unable to deny that it was his signature. She handed me the command token, that no longer would work for her, to vouch for my authenticity, and reinforce my authority. However, since the Teravenians possess a message-wire network as modern as those found in Aerlonia, I was to call at Hawker House after seven in the evening. This was to, hopefully, insure that there would be no one on duty at the Residence in Teravena who could cast doubt on my authenticity, should Hawker House officials seek confirmation of Lessie's release.

'I don't know how Grandfather will react when he learns that Lessie has flown the dovecote. He may not care. Or he may turn out his staff, alert the Civil Guard, and have every train station and crossroad watched between Karitasha and Teravena. It could go either way.'

'And what if Lessie doesn't care to leave Hawker House?' And share the treasure of the golden key with you? I thought, but did not say out loud.

'Don't worry, when she sees you, she'll fall in with the plan. She could have slipped out of Hawker House any time she cared to. What has kept her there is her streak of stubbornness. She doesn't want my help, and she had no better place to go – no friends, or family, who are in a position to defy the Captain. Nor the necessary funds to leave, without my help, which, as I said, she won't accept. So she just stays at Hawker House, being stubborn. I fear this could go on for years.'

'Given her attitude, why will she now accept your funds and leave?'

She smiled. 'Trust me, she will.'

I gave her a hard look. 'Why not send the funds to her, outline your plan, and let her make her own way to the rendezvous? Why do I need to go at all?'

'For the simple reason that they no doubt read her mail. Any funds I send would not reach her, and they'd learn of my plan. With you on hand, you can convince her that what I am offering is her best opportunity to recover, and use the golden key, that she's likely to have for years and years to come. And...' She gave me a long, knowing look and a sigh.

'And?'

'And, it will make her so happy to see you, Taef.'

'No it won't.'

'Oh, I know my sister. Never fear. When you appear, the world will change for her. Oh, she'll leave with you,' she added with a sly grin.

I was certain, or nearly certain, that she was fooling herself on that point. If she was, and if Lessie didn't fall in with her plan, I would have to make my way to Mima Cove alone and hold Sella to her promise of arranging my return home.

'Once you've sprung Lessie,' continued Sella, ignoring my skeptical look, 'You can rely on her to see you to Mima Cove. I have no doubt that the officials of Hawker House will send a wire as soon as Lessie leaves, which is why you don't want to spring her until they close for business at the Residence. They'll first hear of it in Teravena the next morning. With a lead like that, you can rely on Lessie to navigate around whatever shoals Grandfather may raise to recapture her, if he bothers at all.

'I'll keep the Night Song in our secret cove on Pirate Island. Once Grandfather gets wind that the Night Song is missing, and learns that Lessie has flown the dovecote, he'll likely send agents around the coast looking for the Night Song, so I'll be forced to lay low. Lessie, however, will know where to find me. She can just borrow a boat and row out to Pirate Island.'

She made it sound oh, so simple. But I wasn't hatched yesterday. Still, if I was to justify past decisions, I felt that I needed to learn all I could of Teravens, even if I couldn't report all the details, yet. I could, however, make it clear in what I could report, that the Teravenians, known as the Vente, were a power to be dealt with, shall we say, politely.

03

I didn't sleep well in my hot, tiny cabin onboard the steam powered ferry, and so, the dawning day found me on deck watching the northern continent glide into view. Resort towns and swimming beaches lined hills of Venten Bay giving way to docks, warehouses and factories as we entered the river. The voyage came to an end just after seven in the morning, at a dock several kilometers below the sprawling modern city of Teravena. Following Sella's instructions I caught the boat train to Teravena's large, red stone, River Road Station. There I purchased my set of tickets to Karitasha and, with three hours to spare, stepped across the street to breakfast at the brightly painted Yin's Feast buffet. Yin's offered a buffet of hot and cold food which you ate at long tables sitting on benches. While the food was as good as advertised, it was busy and noisy, not a place that one lingers over one's meal. But then, it wasn't serving people who had time to linger.

I, however, lingered a while over my breakfast just to hear my fellow diners talk. Not for so much what they said, but how they said it. We all speak the Founders' language, but we all speak it a little differently. In my training as a political officer, I was given a lecture in the importance of paying attention to how people spoke, since it could tell you a lot about them – clues to their native islands and social status. If, of course, you were properly trained and well traveled. The navy didn't waste its time properly training a limited time officer, so all I retained from my brief course was the importance of noting how people talked, and a little bit of how to mimic them. Of course I had spent several weeks with Sella and the crew, but I figured, given my situation, I'd better put all my knowledge to its best use to reinforce the background story that Sella had invented for me.

Still, given the hectic dining atmosphere of Yin's Feast, I left with plenty of time to explore the city within several blocks of the rail station. Like Tara, its most remarkable characteristic was its familiarity to the larger cities of Aerlonia that I'd visited during my student years. And yet, its little differences in the details gave it a look and an air of its own. One of the more notable differences was the number of electric current-powered vehicles that shared the streets with the horse drawn ones. In Aerlonia, these new self-powered vehicles were more often steam or oil-engined.

I walked through the doors of Jun and Dara soon after they opened for the day. I picked out, with the help of a salesman, a warm vest, a rugged waxed coat, with a green felt hat to go with it, using my story of an islander on the continent for the first time. I then looked into Huntine's Bookshop for the concise history, and also picked up three highly recommended adventure novels as well. Four days in a train compartment promised to be four very long days. After that I recrossed the busy street to the ornate red stone River Road Station, and sat in its cavernous lobby reading one of my new novels, "The River Pirate's Treasure" until it was time to board. I found my platform, my train, and then my day compartment. Sella had suggested a private sleeper compartment, but I settled for a day seat and a shelf in the sleeper car to conserve Sella's funds. This meant that I'd spend my days in the company of Teravenians and run the risk of awkward questions. On the other hand, since no one would ever even imagine that they were sitting next to an Aerlonian, I didn't think I'd be running any real risks. Plus, I felt that the conversations and manners of my fellow passengers would help me not only get to know Teraven better, but make me a more believable Teravenian. And I had my books to fend off unwanted conversations, should the need arise.

I was wrong.

04

It went well, at first.

I boarded my train early enough to secure a window seat, from which I spent the day watching the countryside slip endlessly by. It took the better part of half an hour to entirely escape Teravena and its environs. You could see that it was expanding – there were new, wider roads, and new, bigger buildings. But once we left the city behind, the scenery changed. The countryside took on a very long lived in look – quaint, and unchanging. There were farm fields, after farm fields, divided by deep set, narrow lanes, and peppered with small farmsteads, and little villages stretching up into the hazy hills. Every now and again the Venten River would loop close and its glittering surface was often streaked with long strings of barges. It looked, and felt, like nothing had changed in several thousand years – everything in its place, as it always had been. And you could almost feel the disruption that this rail line, now almost a hundred years old, had made as it was drawn across this perpetual landscape. It seemed like a half-healed scar running through this age-old countryside. It would likely take another hundred years for it to become fully part of the countryside – if more changes did not further wound this land.

The train, though an "express" still stopped every hour at all the fair sized stations, of all the fair sized river towns. At every other station it would take on coal and water, giving passengers just enough time to dash across the street and grab a cup of kaf, or a plate of food and/or boxed lunch from the Yin's Feast across the street, since there was no dining car on this train.

My fellow passengers were polite and pleasant. I made careful small talk with some, listened to others, and when I wasn't watching the countryside roll by, I read about the river pirate's treasure. When the night closed in, I was surprised by the ease at which I fell asleep on my curtained upper shelf in the sleeper car, after sitting most of the day. I guess after fifteen days aboard the Starsea and sleeping on its even narrower berth, I'd become accustomed to sleeping on shelves. As a result, I was wide awake by the time we rolled into Benavers early the following morning. After a hurried breakfast at Yin's, I set out again, on a new train, for the next leg of my journey – another day and night journey to Springsora, which my guide book promised to be a beautiful spa and resort town. Once again we arrived at first light, the following morning. With my next train not scheduled to leave for Slivara until late afternoon, I had most of the day to enjoy the advertised beautiful spa and resort town. Checking my roll-pack at the station, I spent the day exploring and, indeed, enjoying, the bright and cheerful delights of the famous resort city.

We made better time after Springsora, with ever fewer towns to stop at the further north we went, so that even with the later start, we would be arriving in Silvara early the following morning, though the actual distance was almost that of a full day's travel further south.

As the trains took me ever further north, the landscape gradually changed, becoming less closed in, less lived in. The fields were bigger, the farmsteads were less ancient looking, the roads longer and towns, bigger, but further apart. The crops and trees changed, and with them, the tone of the countryside. It was paler, dustier, and brassier, as we left the tropical climate slowly behind.

I had only just time for breakfast at Yin's in Silavar, before boarding my final train, with a boxed lunch, in hand. We would be arriving in Karitasha around supper time, giving me an hour or two to kill before calling on Hawker House. However, after our noon stop, and some three hours before reaching Karitasha, my luck changed.

'I hope you will not take offense, young man, but may I ask you a personal question?' began the rather distinguished looking gentleman who had been seated next to me in the compartment since Silavara. We had the compartment to ourselves, now.

Not really having a choice, I turned to him with a smile and said, 'Not at all.'

He nodded. 'Allow me to introduce myself. I am Loy Naetar, a professor of Social History at the University of Karitasha.'

'Taef Laek,' I replied simply. 'A pleasure to meet you.'

'The same, I assure you, for you are a very interesting young man.'

'I am?'

'Quite. You see, my specialty is the use of linguistics and phonetics to trace the spread of peoples across the continents and islands over time. I seem to have been born with an ear for speech patterns. It is a talent that has proven itself quite useful in my research and travels. I can see, or rather hear, links between island societies that may not be evident in other studies, of say, art or legends. Now, I could not help but overhear your conversation with our late compartment mate, the bright and talkative Miss Mol, And I could not help but notice some very interesting word choices and speech patterns in your replies. These, I must confess, sparked such a professional curiosity in me, that I have ventured to prying into a stranger's background.'

I felt a knot tightening in my gut, but at least his leisurely approach to his intentions had allowed me to clear my mind. 'Think nothing of it. As a son of a wide-ranging island trader, I've no doubt picked up many traits of speech from the many islands and many traders we've dealt with.'

'That I can believe. You certainly have a mix of island cultures in your speech. But what interests me the most is the Aerlonian in your pronunciation and word choice. Indeed, I believe that I can pin point the exact city in Aerlonia where certain words and phrases you use are spoken.'

'And that is?' I asked, with what I hoped to be an easygoing smile, while I frantically considered the implications of his claims, and my possible responses.

'The city, and more even specifically, the University of Layfarm.'

To be that specific, Professor Naetar, must have attended the University of Layfarm as one of the hidden scholars that Sella had mentioned. I didn't dare to deny his claims, and quickly decided that it didn't matter, I likely would be a fugitive by tomorrow anyway.

I laughed, 'I should be impressed, but even my mother noted changes in my speech upon my return. And not just that I had fallen into the habit of using, shall we say, certain, not strictly related, adjectives when speaking of everyday things. What college were you a member of, Professor Naetar?'

'I'm a Grentarian,' he said with a smile, watching me closely.

'I'm a Deventorian, reading archaeology,' I replied. 'Who would ever have guessed that two old Layfarmers would meet in a rail compartment on the River Road to Karitasha? What are the odds?' I exclaimed, extending my hand. 'A pleasure to meet you, professor.'

'Delighted. There are actually several of us old Layfarmers at the University. Are you traveling to join the faculty?'

'I wish. But alas, I owe some duties to the Captaincy, which I must discharge before beginning my real career. I am traveling to Karitasha on official business. But tell me, when where you at Layfarm?' I asked, to deflect questions about me and my present position.

What followed was nearly three hours of old boy reminisces of our Layfarm days. Being unfamiliar with how real Teravenian students were selected for overseas study, I had to invent a way to get me to Layfarm in an extraordinary way. It involved having my father being a part time intelligence agent of the Teraven navy. He had cultivated a long friendship with an Aerlonian island merchant, much like my father, who had suggested and sponsored my admission into Layfarm. This arrangement had been cleared and paid for out of naval intelligence funds. I was now paying back those funds with my service. I was pretty certain that knowing the Aerlonian navy as I did, I knew more about the Teraven navy, and its intelligence operation, than Professor Naetar did, so I could speak with confidence, while still speak guardedly, since it was an intelligence matter.

'I hope you will have time in Karitasha to get together with the other old Layfarmers. I am sure that they would be delighted to meet a fellow student of their old university – we must, of necessity – lose track of many schoolmates and old teachers.'

'Alas, not this time. I'm on a strict timetable. I'm here to deliver a message and return promptly with a response. But I am fortunate to have met you, Professor. You see, having attended Layfarm outside of the normal channels, I knew of no one else from Teraven attending the University, nor do I know of any, like yourself, who have attended it. I shall certainly make it a point to look you up once my time of service is over, and well, by then, I'll be looking for a post.'

'I'm delighted to have met you, as well. I am happy that you are not the spy I first took you for,' he said with a smile. I got the impression that there was a little challenge in that smile as well.

'A spy? From Aerlonia?'

'Nonsense, of course. Just my imagination running away with me after finding myself in a train compartment with a young fellow who had been at Layfarm and was reading Sewja's A Concise History of Teraven From the Founders to the Present.' he said touching his finger to the volume on the seat next to me.

'Well, you were half right. I have been a spy, of sorts, but for Teraven, of course. But consider the implications of an Aerlonian spy on a train to Karitasha. What would that imply about our national policy of secrecy, if Aerlonian spies are taking trains to Kariasha?' And then I laughed. 'Well, you needn't, as I have been just reading a roaring adventure story about just that,' I added, standing to pull out "The Agent From the South," one of the adventure novels I had purchased for the journey, from my roll-pack and handing it to him. 'I've only started it, but I'm sure he'll never return to Feldara.'

He smiled, and idly paged through the book before handing it back to me. 'I will have to read it, just to know what to do, should I find another spy on my next journey. Alas, I see this journey is coming to an end.' That, with a nod to the window, which showed a series of stone buildings, warmly lit in the low light of the late afternoon sun.

'After four days on a train, it is more like "At last" for me. And I will likely find myself back on a southbound train tomorrow, if not before.' I said, as the train began to slow.

'Where are you bound for, if I may ask?'

'Hawker House, the Governor's town house,' I replied, finding no good reason to keep it secret.

'Ah,' he signed. 'A message from the Captain, is it?'

To this I just smiled, a response in keeping with my supposed mission.

'Just so. No gossip. I'll give you a ride there. I should have a carriage waiting for me, and it is not out of my way.'

'That's hardly necessary. I can find my way, and need to stretch my legs.'

'I insist. It will save you time on your mission.'

I'd a sudden feeling that for all my talk and stories, Professor Naetar was not yet completely convinced that I wasn't an "Agent From the South," so I nodded and said, 'Thank you.'

05

The sun was low and ruddy in the western sky, and the air of Karitasha crisp enough that my new wool vest was a welcome addition to my wardrobe when I stepped out of the Karitasha's Amber street Rail Station along with Professor Naetar. The mountains to the east glowed warmly in the dying day's last light. I had checked my roll-pack at the baggage window, to be ready for what I hoped was a quick return journey as the Captain's messenger.

'Ah, yes. There's Hicks with the carriage. Come along, Laek, let's get aboard,' said Professor Naetar, eagerly.

I climbed aboard, not without misgivings. It was too early to call on Hawker House, but what choice did I have? Hopefully it was near enough to closing time at the Residence, that no one of importance would be in to answer any wire-message inquiry the keepers of Lessie Raah might see fit to send.

Karitasha, as the provincial capital of the remotest province of Teraven, and as a university town, was larger and more hectic than I had expected. The Professor pointed out its finer points as the horse drawn carriage navigated the busy, stone paved streets, before turning down a side street lined with tall stone and brick mansions. He had Hicks pull up and stop before a tall, imposingly ornately carved stone one in the middle of the long block.

'Hawker House. And here, I must bid you goodbye. Hopefully we shall have an opportunity to get together again, when you are at your leisure.'

'I hope so, as well. And soon. Until then, thank you for the ride, and your reminisces. It made the long journey even more memorable for this islander's son,' I said, sincerely, unfortunately.

I alighted, and stood and waved goodbye to the Professor, before the stone steps of Hawker House. As I watched the Professor's carriage slowly make its way toward the corner, I had the impression that the Professor was watching me, as well. Perhaps it was my imagination. Still, I thought it best to ease his mind, so I turned and bounded up the steps to lift the big brass doorknocker on the dark wood door. I gave it several sharp raps, as an important man with business to attend to would do. I didn't have long to wait, since the door attendant answered promptly. I told him that I'd come from the Captain's Residence carrying a message to Lessie Raah from her Grandfather, and that I had been instructed to deliver it to her personally. I had flashed my command token and waved my forged paper. As he opened the door wider to admit me, I glanced aside, just enough, to catch, from the corner of my eye, the Professor's carriage only now making the turn at the corner. So much for your doubts, Professor Naetar, I said, rather bitterly, to myself. He had forced my hand. Hopefully it wouldn't matter.

In any event, I found myself in a high-ceiling hall, with the attendant asking me to wait for the proper official to deal with this matter. A few minutes later, an important looking gentleman appeared, who introduced himself as Faradry, the Governor's majordomo. He asked the purpose of my visit, as if the attendant had not told him already.

'I have a message for Lessie Raah from the Captain, sir.' I replied.

'Your credentials.'

I gave him the letter, and showed him my command token.

'Why aren't you in uniform, Lieutenant Laek?' he asked as he scanned the letter.

'This is a confidential matter, sir,' I replied. 'We're not to attract attention.'

He scowled. 'What is the message. I will see that she receives it.'

'I'm sorry, sir, it has not been committed to paper. I am charged with delivering it personally to her, and returning with her response.'

'I've received no notice of this. Can't this wait until tomorrow?' he asked, exasperated, if not quite suspiciously.

'I'm sorry sir. Perhaps notice wasn't considered necessary. All I can say is that I've been on the road these last four days with orders not to tarry along the way. I am certain that I can discharge my mission within the hour or less. The Captain expects a prompt response, so I hope to deliver my message, hear her response, and be on my way again on the 8:10 to Springsora,' I replied briskly, in my best naval officer's voice.

'Oh, very well. I believe that she's in the back garden. Wens, please show Lieutenant Laek to the garden.'

'Thank you, sir,' I said with a little bow and a smile. 'Lead on, Wens.'

Wens led me through a door at the back of the entry hall, and then down a short corridor to a second, glass paneled door that opened to a terrace, and beyond it, the mansion's back garden. After he ushered me out, and followed me, as well.

The back garden was deep and enclosed by tall stone walls. It was laid out in a maze of bench lined paths, flowerbeds, and carefully trimmed bushes under ornamental trees. Looking about, I didn't see Lessie, as I walked down the steps into the shadow draped garden. The sun was hidden behind the opposite mansion and while the sky still glowed overhead, evening had already settled in deepening shadows behind its walls and under its ornamental trees. I followed the pale gravel path deeper into the garden, Wens trailing beside me, the slight crunch of our footfalls sounding loud to my ears in the cool silence of the walled garden. I had nearly reached the end of it, searching the shadowed benches and alcoves on each side for Lessie, when I spied her sitting in a deep, dark alcove, draped with a climbing rose at the very end of the garden, I turned to Wens and said, 'Thank you. I believe we've found her.'

He may've hesitated a moment, but then nodded and turned to the mansion. I watched him go, and didn't move until he disappeared through the glass doors. What I had to say to Lessie was only for her ears.

After searching the shadows for anyone else who might be about, I continued on. Lessie was sitting sideways on the bench, her chin resting on her arms, her arms resting on her drawn-up knees. She was dressed in a dark vest and slacks. She was apparently deep in thought, since she did not stir when I stopped beside her, and said, 'Hello, Lady Raah.'

'What?' she asked, glancing my way.

There was no sign on her face that she had recognized me. Of course my face was in the shadows of the tall wall, and I had added the mustache since we'd last met, but I breathed a little easier.

'I've come from your sister, with orders to spirit you away.'

'Why?' she sighed, without movement. Her face, framed by her pale hair was a cool pale blue in the shadows, calm, perhaps even soft, but perhaps that was the shadows. She showed no interest, or eagerness, at my announcement. Nor any sign that she knew me.

'She is, of course, concerned about you, and your plight. And she wants you free to resume your quest.'

'Why?'

'Because she feels that your happiness depends on it.'

'She told you that?'

'Yes. And she told me about the golden key. She has a plan to continue the quest you started, and has sent me to fetch you.'

That stirred her out of her apathy. She started, and looked a little closer at me, and asked sharply, 'She told you all that? Who are you?'

That made it very clear to me that she didn't recognize me as Lieutenant Lang. Clearly I wasn't her heart's desire as Sella would have it. Not, mind you, that I was at all surprised. I had been pretty certain that it was all in Sella's very active imagination. But it was a great relief, nonetheless.

'She told me because I am a necessary component of her plan. As for who I am, well I'm the fellow who has the golden key. You gave it to me to hold for you back on Fey Lon.'

'You?' she exclaimed, swinging her legs off the bench and rising to take several steps closer to peer at me for a long moment. She did not fall into my arms, or faint. Instead, she snapped, 'What are you doing here? Does she know how dangerous it is for you to be here? How could she do that? Why, if you get captured, I'll never recover the key. What could she have been thinking?'

'Sorry, I'm just a pawn in this game. I'm here to collect you because she couldn't do it, and well, she needed to sail your yacht to Mima's Cove.'

'How, how did she find you and bring you here?'

'She knew that you did not have the key when you came aboard the Starsea. And she knew that you would've only given it to someone you could find again. She learned of my connection with the Banjar incident, and jumped to the right conclusion.'

'And you gave it to her.'

'No. Which is why I'm here, I suppose. She didn't have the coin, and for some reason, chose not to have her crew beat me into revealing where I had it hidden. Instead she more less shanghaied me, and carried me back to Tara, with the crazy idea that I might be offered up as an excuse for you running off the Captain's yacht. Or at least that is what she told me. More likely she had this plan in mind the whole time. Who knows? I can never tell when your sister is serious or kidding.'

'It is easy to underestimate my sister, and her drive. What's her plan?'

'She will have sailed your yacht, the Night Song, to a place called Mima Cove. She'll wait for us on Pirate Island. Once we show up, we'll sail to Fey Lon to pick up the key. After that, the two of you will continue on with your original plan.

'However, if you don't care for this program, I'll just leave you here, and tell Sella that you like it here. She has promised to send me home one way or another, so you can collect the key, as we agreed, once you are free to do so. The choice is yours. I have a command token, and a forged document, that should allow you to leave Hawker House. Sella said that once free, you would know what to do.'

She turned and walked up the path for ten paces and then back.

'Did she provide you with funds?'

'Yes, very generously I believe.'

'Hand them over. '

I reached for the chest pocket of my shirt under the vest and drew out the rather thick sheaf of notes, and handed them over, as ordered.

She quickly counted them, and recounted out half and returned the rest to me. And then she returned to pacing for several minutes in silence. I waited for more orders.

'You shouldn't have come this early. I suspect that Faradry has already dispatched a runner to the wire-office with a query to the Residence about your mission. If you had only waited until later this evening, we'd have gotten a twelve hour lead.'

'That was my intention, but, circumstance dictated otherwise...'

'What circumstance?'

'Well, as luck would have it, I found myself in the same compartment with a certain Professor Naetar of Karitasha University...' I began and briefly outlined my encounter. '... So with my story more or less a leaky boat, I felt that I had to prove my authenticity by accepting his offer of a ride, and make my entry to Hawker Hall in his sight. Hopefully that will be enough to reassure him that I am not an Aerlonian spy.' I said, and added, with a laugh, 'Though if I had been a real spy, Teraven would need to be overrun with Aerlonian spies, for him to have run across such an obvious one on the train.'

Lessie didn't laugh. Lessie never laughed. Instead she, snapped. 'That silly...' and bit back "fool" or "idiot" or some such descriptive term. 'Sending you here is treason. It is against our age-old policy. What could Sella have been thinking? Grandfather has threatened to charge us with the crimes we've committed. It may've been an idle threat, since Sella went off in the Starsea, and is not behind bars. But sending you here – to Teraven proper – is pure treason, and I don't think that even Grandfather would be able to overlook that, if he finds out about it...

'And then you, like an idiot, go and ignore her precautions... Why did you not book a first class compartment? She provided plenty of funds. Why did you risk discovery?'

'I thought there would be no great risk – my accent could be explained away as an islander, and who would've thought that I'd find myself in the company of a linguist, who just happened to attend the same university as I did in Aerlonia? Really, what were the odds?'

'You...' she snapped, again biting back some choice words. 'Do you realize that it's treason for me not to turn you in? Oh, Sella can talk her way out of any charge. Plus, she is the future Captain of Teraven... While I would likely spend my life within far higher walls than these, just for not turning you in.'

'You needn't know who or what I am, should worse come to worse,' I pointed out. 'If it does, all you know is that I'm a messenger sent to you by your sister.

'As for treason, well, I've given my word to Sella, and now to you, that I won't reveal the secret of Teraven. She has given me leave to report what I saw in Tara and on Vente Island, as it would be possible for any intrepid spy to sail there as a seaman in disguise. Hopefully that will be enough to keep me out of the brig when I return to Lil Lon. And allow me to return your key to you whenever you decide to call for it.'

'Isn't that treason as well?' she said, giving me a disgusted look.

I shrugged. 'If it is, it is above my rank and pay. I'm an archaeologist. My current employment in the navy is merely my required civic duty as an Aerlonian citizen. My task was to collect trade gossip to further a proxy war, which, as an islander, I find immoral. But that too, is above my rank and pay. Teraven can keep its secret as far as I'm concerned, for as long as it can. Which won't be all that long, regardless of what I report, or don't report. Trust me, the southern continents will be knocking at your door in our lifetime.'

She gave me a long, sour look, and turned away, to pace some more.

'Sella has given me no option, just as she intended,' said Lessie stopping before me. 'Given that, we must act with dispatch to get whatever lead we can. I don't know if Grandfather will care if I fly the dovecote, but Sella has already riled him up again, so we must assume that he will. A lot. It's a big country and we are commonplace enough... And even if Grandfather sends out people who know me, we'll only first meet them half way to Mima Cove, since they can travel towards us no faster than we can travel towards them. We have a choice of three rail lines, but he has enough staff to cover them. Still, we'll deal with anyone who find us, if and when, it is necessary.

'Give me five minutes here to pack, and then return to the hall and wait for me.'

'And if they object to you leaving?'

'They will. It won't matter. We're leaving, and they won't be able to stop me.'

And with that, she stalked off to the mansion, entering it by side steps down to the basement, no doubt to avoid being detained before reaching her room.

I spent those five minutes pacing, and questioning my compromises, before returning to the mansion, and the wood paneled entry hall to await Lessie. Wens was there, but said nothing. I remained silent as well, until Lessie appeared at the head of the stairs in a long dark traveling coat, a hat, and a roll-pack over her shoulder, along with Faradry in tow. He was urging, or rather, ordering her to return to her room. She ignored him.

Five minutes; packed and ready to travel... Lessie Raah may've been standing behind the door when personality was being handed out, but she was efficient.

'Sir. Neither you, nor Lady Raah, is to leave until I hear back from the Residence. I have strict orders not to release Lady Raah without direct wire-authorization from the Captain. Wens, summon Cley to watch them.'

I bowed, and said, smoothly, 'Of course, sir. As you wish.' Knowing full well that what I, Faradry, or her grandfather wished, counted for nothing with Lessie Raah.

She breezed past me and opening the door, turned and snapped, 'Come along, you,' and walked out.

I shrugged to Faradry. 'I'll see what I can do, sir,' I said – a lie – and followed her out Behind me, I could hear Faradry, say 'Follow them Wens...' before I shut the door, and hurried down the stairs to catch up with Lessie.

'Run ahead and hail a taxi,' she ordered. If Wens was to follow us, that made sense, so I ran to the busy street at the end of the block. This, being a wealthy neighborhood, meant that I quickly spied, and waved over, an idle two-wheeled cab. It pulled up as Lessie arrived, and I turned to help her aboard, but she didn't need my help, so I climbed in after her. Wens was on the pavement in front of the mansion when we lost sight of him as the taxi rattled past the side street on its way to; 'Amber Street Station. Quickly now.' at Lessie's directions.

Chapter 07 On the Run

01

Lessie leaned closer, and said, quickly and quietly as the taxi rattled along behind the rapid clip-clap of its horse. 'Amber Street Station is merely a feint. We will change taxis at Amber Station, and travel – in separate taxis – to the West Line's Kari Boulevard Station. Book a sleeper compartment on the first train that you can book all the way to Nera. Got that?'

'Yes.'

'A private sleeper compartment this time.'

'Yes,' I sighed. 'Lesson learned.'

'Don't linger around the station after you book your compartment. Arrive shortly before departure time. When they don't find us at Amber Street, they may well cast a wider net.'

'Right. Anything else?'

'Find someplace to shave off that mustache.'

'Why?'

'It makes you look ridiculous. And remember, impersonating a Captain's courier is a criminal offense. They can wire every civil guard station in the land to pick up a young man with a ridiculous mustache, and they'd have you in a cell by tomorrow morning. And neither Sella nor I would be able to spring you.'

And before I could object, she continued. 'Give me the command token and the letter. They will only incriminate you now, should they search you.'

I dug them out of my pocket. 'Anything else?'

'If you are questioned, do you have a reason to be traveling?'

'I'm the son of a Vente island trader on a holiday visiting relatives. As such, I'm not all that familiar with Teraven. I can convincingly talk trade and the islands. Good enough?'

'It will have to do, but be discreet. I can look after myself, even if I can't avoid Grandfather's men. Do not interfere with anything that happens to me. You must get to Mima Cove or all is lost. You'll never leave Teraven if you are captured.'

'How will I find you on the train?' I asked, as we pulled into Amber Station's busy forecourt yard.

'I'll find you,' she snapped. 'Make your way to Mima Cove, if I don't.'

She quickly alighted and disappeared into the crowd as soon as we came to a stop. As I paid the taxi man, I caught sight of her boarding another two-wheeled taxi. I collected my roll-pack from the baggage window, and then deciding that Lessie was right about the mustache – the part where it could be used to identify me, not that it was ridiculous – so I found a deserted rest room, and scraped it off with my razor in one of the stalls. I also exchanged my vest for the waxed jacket and the green felt hat to emerge a new and different young man. I hoped.

I took a taxi to Kari Boulevard Rail Station, and after studying the train board, booked a sleeper compartment on the 8:12 train to Taraveye and Nera. I then left the station, as ordered, and walked out into the cool twilight evening. I found a small, quiet restaurant several blocks from the station. There, I passed the next two hours in a back booth, lingering over dinner, dessert, and several cups of kaf, while I started reading the adventure novel involving the Feldorian spy. It was hard to know who to root for.

A little after eight I drifted back to the rail station, found my platform and boarded the train, seemingly without attracting any notice. I slipped into the narrow, barely lit compartment, tossed my roll-pack on the narrow bunk and settled in with a sigh. A few minutes later, with a clang and a lurch, I was once more on the move. It was getting old.

02

The sleeper compartment proved to be half the size of a passenger compartment. It had a bunk instead of a bench, and a fold down upper bunk instead of the luggage rack. Across the narrow aisle was a shallow wardrobe, with a tiny sink fed from an earthenware jug set above it with a tarnished mirror between the sink and water jug. It had one dim current light overhead, though it brightened up as the train began to move, no doubt switching from cell to dynamo power. There were two small lights set at the head and foot of the bunk for reading, I guess. The conductor came around to punch my ticket before we had left suburban Karitasha behind, and as darkness fell, I propped up the thin pillow against the wall, and drawing a long breath, smiled.

I was amazed how relieved I felt. Heading back may've had something to do with it. There was almost no way I could be identified as Lieutenant Laek now, so I was as safe as I likely could be in Teraven. However, most of my relief came from knowing for certain that Sella was wrong about Lessie's feeling towards me. I had been almost certain that I was right, but my recent reunion with her had eliminated the "almost." Lessie may've been able to kill three Banjars by pointing at them and telling them to die, but Sella... Well, I had to believe that she was the more powerful sorceress. She seemed to be almost able to bend reality to her will – or whim. I was sitting in a sleeper compartment in Teraven on account of her power with words alone. But, thankfully, she could not change Lessie... Though in truth, she was running Lessie just about as efficiently as she was running me. I could only hope there was a limit to her powers.

I didn't know how Lessie would find me, or even if she would. And I didn't care, so I settled in to read my book until I was ready for sleep.

I was at least dozing when there was a sharp rap on the compartment's door and it started to open. I swung my foot off the bunk to stop it from opening all the way.

I didn't recognize her. Not at first. Not in the dim light. Not in my semi-dozing condition. Not with her ugly spectacles, her reddened lips, her powdered cheeks and her hair tightly drawn into a small bun at back. She was wearing a dark blouse, with a scarf around her neck, and dark slacks. Her customary outfit, I found.

'Let me in,' she hissed sharply.

Ah, then I recognized her. I let my leg drop and sat up, shifting away so that she slipped through the door to stand in the narrow space between the bunk and the wardrobe. I gave her a long look, and said, 'And you thought my mustache was ridiculous.'

'It was, she sniffed. 'And too distinctive. I want to know what Sella is up to – the complete story.'

'What's with the glasses and makeup?' I asked, staring up at her.

'We often had reasons to go about disguised. We had many. The simpler the better. This is one of them. Now tell me what she's up to.'

'Well, it's effective, I'll give you that. But is it necessary, now?'

'I hope not. But why take chances? Now, quit evading my question.'

I stopped evading her question. 'Right. Have a seat,' I said padding the bunk next to me.

She gave me a sour look, but sat, and I related the complete story of Sella's appearance on Lil Lon and the subsequent events.

'... I have a hard time deciding when Sella is kidding and when she's serious. For instance, was she ever really serious about selling this story of you running off to find some lover you met in the islands to your grandfather?'

'What do you think?' she asked giving me a sour look.

'Well, I knew it wasn't me, of course, though she insisted that it could be. Still, it seems, ah, rather farfetched. It would be something that she would seem more likely to do it than you...' I may have said too much, but it didn't seem to upset her.

'Of course she wasn't serious. She was just sowing confusion.'

'Do you think it worked?'

'Since she got out of his office alive. Maybe. But she never believed that such a silly story would've been believed. Grandfather is not a fool. No, right from the start, she brought you back to use you to pry me out of Hawker House. This was her plan all along.'

'Really? She said it was plan two. Or was it three? I've lost track.'

'Oh, don't be an...' She left "idiot" unsaid, and then continued on, 'Underestimate Sella at your peril. Granted, she's sweet, charming, fun, and even caring, but she's a Raah, with all the family's famous sharp edges and hard steel in her. It's only that the Raah in her is well hidden. In me, it's not. No, she used you to force me out of my exile. She knew that I could not risk your arrest because that would deny me access to the key...

'You didn't tell her about our alternate plan, if you were no longer on Lil Lon, did you?' she asked, sharply, looking at me.

'No, of course not. But, of course I had no reason to put it in place, and when Sella arrived and shanghaied me, I didn't have time to put it in place...'

'Where is it now? Is it safe?'

'Oh, it's safe enough. Indeed, it's hidden where I don't think anyone would think to look.'

'Where?'

'Ah, I think I'd best keep that to myself, for the moment. I don't want to make myself too expendable...'

She glared at me, for a moment. 'We do have some sense of honor. I assume you have one as well. If it appears that you won't be able to return, you will tell me how to find it, won't you?'

Agreeing to that might make me more expendable, but we needed to trust each other, so I said, 'Of course.'

She nodded. We sat in silence for a while.

'You realize that she returned to Fey Lon just to collect you, not to collect the gold key,' she said, out of the blue.

'How can you be sure?'

'Because the golden key, alone, does her no good. She doesn't know how to open the case. She needs me for that. She could've gotten it from you, one way or another, but she would still have to return it to me, with no guarantee that I would, once again, act on it, or share it with her when I had it once more in hand.'

'You gave it to me to keep it away from her.'

'I gave it to you to insure that whatever happened, it was out of both Sella's and Grandfather's reach. My crew did not know our purpose or destination. And while the crews of both yachts were willing enough to oblige us as long as we give them official cover, they were, in the end, the Captain's men, and questions would have been asked and answered. I couldn't risk having the gold key on me upon our return.'

'Sella brought you here to force me to act. By putting you into jeopardy as a potential spy, and having you come to me alone, she hoped to force my hand. I don't know what Grandfather would do with, or to, you, if you should be captured, but she figured that I couldn't run the risk of you getting captured and thrown into prison, or worse.'

I'd a feeling that there was some truth to that. And yet...

'I don't think you are giving her full credit. As you said, she shouldn't be underestimated. Whatever I've done for Sella, I've it done out of friendship. I will readily admit that it is hard to say no to her, but that is because she is generous with her friendship. I also think I'm here because she loves you, and wants you to find your treasure. Of course she wants to be there when you do, but I do believe that she considers it to be yours. In short, I don't think that you can know, for certain, from what wellspring her impulses come from – from her kindness, her openness to friendship, or her calculating Raah side.'

'I can see that she has you under her spell. Be careful; she has many.'

'She is a sorceress, alright,' I laughed. 'But she has already cautioned me that it is only friendship she has to offer. But I do believe that it is an authentic friendship, not one of expediency. While it's true that I haven't known her for long, I did spend fifteen days in her company on our voyage here. I could see how her crew liked and respected her. I could see that she is genuinely nice and caring. So I count her as a friend. We could be friends, as well,' I added, and regretted it, as soon as I said it. I needn't.

'I don't have friends. I am not the type of person that makes friends. And whenever someone says that they want to be my friend, I know it's out of misguided pity. I don't need friends. Sella thinks I'm as I am because I'm unhappy. I am as I am, because that is who I am. I'm perfectly comfortable with who I am, whether other people like it or not.'

'Well, my offer was simply one of practicality. It seems our fates, if all goes as planned, are to be tied together for the next few weeks. At the moment we're partners in your escape, and after that, we'll be spending several weeks aboard a small boat together. It would be nice to have a good working understanding.'

She gave a little shrug, but stared straight ahead. 'Fine. A partnership of expediency.'

It was all I wanted. 'I'm comfortable with that. As long as we can trust each other to look after each other, that's all that matters. The why doesn't matter.'

She gave me a quick glance, that I assume sealed our understanding.

I expected her to go, after that. But she didn't, which left me with a dilemma. I didn't know what to say to her. I'd a feeling a conversation with her would feel more like an interrogation, and an unsatisfactory one at that. Still, the silence was uncomfortable.

'I picked up three adventure novels to read on the train. If you would like, you could borrow one to read. And of course there is that blasted Concise History, as well.'

She gave a little shake of her head "No."

'Well, if you'd like to know a little more about me – or Aerlonia, for that matter, feel free to ask.'

'The less I know, the better.'

So we sat, for perhaps a quarter of an hour in silence, before she said, 'See if there's anyone in the corridor.'

I stood and carefully stepped around her – she had to slide over so I could open the door. I looked out. 'It's empty.' And then had to step out into the corridor so that she could get out through the narrow door.

'We don't know each other. You have maps, so you can find Mima Cove without me if necessary.'

It wasn't a question, but I nodded, 'Yes.' And as she slipped by me, I said, 'Good night.'

She said nothing.

I stood, swaying with the roll of the train and watched her until she reached the end of the carriage and disappeared behind the compartments. There was an authenticity about Lessie, as there was about Sella. Lessie was an authentically unlikable person. One might pity her, but as she said, she was content to be who she was, which was fine with me just as long as Sella was wrong about her.

03

'Rise and shine – Taraveye, Rise and shine – Taraveye.' said the conductor, knocking on each of the compartment doors as he passed them. A few minutes later the train was slowly gliding alongside the station's platform. It come to a rest with a sigh of steam.

I stretched out my body's many kinks and quickly dressed. With the train window streaked with raindrops, I donned my waxed jacket and joined the stumbling line of sleepy passengers parading down and out into the cool, misty air of the platform and the new day. It was gloomy, and if not quite raining, it was trying to. I followed the line into the dim waiting room, and looked around for Lessie. She was there, by the door, and seeing that I had found her, pushed through it, and out into the cool, misty morning.

We had an hour's layover in Taraveye, while new carriages were added to the train, and the engine was coaled and watered, giving us plenty of time for breakfast. There was the usual bright lit, Yin's Feast across the street, but Lessie continued on, down the street. I followed her, half a block behind. I figured there must be a better place, since she wasn't alone. A dozen or more passengers were trooping off in the same direction as well.

It was too early for most of the shops to be open, but a couple of blocks from the station, the brightly lit windows of Coros Bakery were a beacon of cheerfulness in the grey of the morning. I followed Lessie, and the others, into a paradise of warmth, the aroma of fresh baked bread, and hot, strong kaf. Nothing about Coros Bakery jarred my early morning senses. Beyond the bakery counter stretched a dimly lit row of booths in dark wood, where my fellow travelers were settling in. I took the empty booth opposite Lessie's, and settled into its corner, with a brief smile, not returned.

A minute later a gentleman came down the aisle, glanced at Lessie, met her icy glare, and turned to me. 'Do you mind?' he asked indicating the bench on the other side of the table.

'Not at all,' I said with a wave of my hand.

He had just settled in when the waitress came by. 'Your usual?'

'Aye, Klaris.'

'And you sir?'

'A cup of kaf, and, what else would you suggest?' I asked Klaris and my table mate.

'You can't go wrong with a couple eggs, sausages, a couple of hard-backed rolls, and a sweet roll or two with your kaf. That's what I order,' offered my table mate.

'Sounds wonderful, his usual for me, as well, miss Klaris,' I replied with a smile. She smiled and nodded.

She returned shortly with two steaming cups of kaf, and over them I learned that my table mate was a traveling salesman, a "bagman." I, in turn, spun my story about being the son of an island trader on a rare holiday on the big island. We talked trade over breakfast. Working in Lang's Mercantile growing up, I'd come to know many bagmen, and so he was a comfortable table mate over a perfect, and leisurely breakfast. Lessie left before I finished my last cup of kaf. At the counter I filled a travel canister with hot Kaf, purchased half a dozen fresh rolls, some small, hard sausages and a chunk of cheese to take with me, so as to avoid the risk of starving.

As it turned out, the carriages they added were a buffet car, and a lounge car. And by mid-morning I was bored enough to risk a little socializing in the lounge car. What Lessie didn't know, wouldn't alarm her. Of course, she walked through for lunch, and gave a very brief, but very dark look. Oh well.

Vale Sora was our long evening stop over. With more than an hour to spare, I explored the stone and brick built city near the station and found a bookstore still open. I returned to my compartment, collected my books and traded them in on three more inexpensive adventure novels by Friser Refe, my new, favorite Teraven author. I was happy to unload Du Sun Sewja's fine, but incriminating history. I felt slightly guilty, as a scholar and student of the Founders, about that. But, as an islander visiting relatives on a holiday, I'd have a very hard time explaining that type of book, should Lessie's Grandfather call out the civil guards to search every passenger from Karitasha. Sometime tomorrow morning any agents dispatched from Teravena would have reached all the stations we'd be calling on. I hadn't finished it, and would probably regret not doing so,, but I didn't care to take the risk.

I was not surprised when, late that evening, there was a knock on my compartment door, and Lessie slipped in, still looking like someone's eccentric aunt. I was pretty certain that her brief knifing look would not be enough for her. I curled up my legs and swung them to the floor to sit up.

'What are you doing hanging about the lounge? Didn't you learn your lesson?' she hissed.

I shrugged. 'I'm sorry, but I just can't spend four days reading books in this little cell. My story is readily accepted, and the odds of meeting a second Layfarm educated linguist in Teraven is pretty remote. Besides, I don't want to act like a fugitive. If the train is searched, if we are questioned, I'll want some fellow passengers to be able to vouch for me.

'Now, quit glaring at me and have a seat,' I added, reaching for the waxed paper bag on a shelf in the wardrobe. 'I still have a couple of rolls and some cheese. The rolls won't be half as fresh tomorrow.'

I could see that she was searching for something not very nice to say. Perhaps realizing the futility of it, she settled for 'Don't be an idiot.' And then, opening the door, she disappeared after a quick glance up and down the corridor.

I took a bite from one of the rolls, and returned to Refe's "The Continental Agent" set in a, not quite unrecognizable, Aerlonia.

04

It was a fine, bright morning when we pulled into Nera Station. Looking out my small window, I could see no one that looked out of place on the platform, nor in the station as we filed out to stretch our legs and enjoy a hot breakfast. This time around, Lessie and I breakfasted at Yin's, but at separate tables, of course. I then spent the morning finishing up "The Continental Agent" in my compartment before heading out to the lounge where I played cards all afternoon with some social bagmen. I managed to keep my losses to pocket coins until we arrived in Oriva. Once again, nothing seemed out of the ordinary – no one seemed to be studying the passengers as we alighted. We were back aboard an hour later for the overnight journey to Tingsun.

I tried to check my growing optimism that Lessie's grandfather did not care where she went. That, or he did not have enough personnel who knew her well enough to identify her, and to man every station or overland road. And yet, we had now passed the point where agents could've been expected, so it almost seemed to be the case. Our luck continued to hold, as there was no one looking out of place on the Tingsun station platform either, when we arrived the following morning.

And it was a fine, sunny morning. We had traveled far enough south for it to be a nearly tropical again. Lessie had not bothered to visit to scold me, so I had time to start Refe's "Island of the Dragon" before I fell asleep. I saw her at Yin's for breakfast, but she must have stayed in her compartment for the rest of the day, since I did not see her again until that evening. At each of the stations, I could see no obvious agents waiting on the platform. They had, after nearly seven days of rail travel, become a very familiar scene. Oh, the faces and stations varied, but the people on them all played their familiar roles – the relatives waiting to greet the alighting passengers, new passengers with their luggage around them, bagmen chatting with other bagmen, porters, the relief crew, the mail agent, and the station manager, watch in hand.

And no one was out of character on the Crynar platform as well. Lessie didn't alight at this long stop, so I stayed onboard as well. We were to leave the train at the next station, Tenarbridge, and would have more than enough time there to dine while waiting to catch the local train that would take us on to an even smaller station at Tapars Grove.

Still, by the time we came to a stop at the pale brick station of Tenarbridge, I was hungry, and so, with my roll-pack slung over my shoulder, I eagerly followed Lessie out of the station and across Station Street to yet another Yin's Feast. Yin's was getting old, but this would be my last meal there since we were putting the mainline stations behind us.

I followed Lessie through the line and settled at one of the long tables with my back to her, half a table away. Given Lessie's personality, this was as close to her as I cared to be. It was, by now, rather late for diner, and the large dining hall had only a handful of customers, so we had our respective tables to ourselves.

I was only halfway through my feast when a trim young man, without a tray of food, slipped past me. He was dressed in blue trousers and a shirt that had some sort of thingamajigs on his shoulders. A uniform. Trouble.

He stopped beside Lessie and said quietly, 'Hello, Lessie.'

She glanced up and said, 'Lieutenant Fel.'

'We need to talk.'

'Talk.'

He started to glance my way. I turned to stare at my plate. There was a long stretch of silence, during which time I had the feeling that that young man was glancing between Lessie and me, in a meaningfully manner. Lessie paid him no heed.

At last he gave up. 'I like your disguise. You haven't used that one in a while. I could hardly recognize you.'

Silence.

'Your grandfather wants to see you.'

'I have no desire to see him.'

'He's rather insisting that you do.'

'As my grandfather, or as the Captain of Teraven?'

'I believe as both. He was quite, ah, concerned about your disappearance.'

'I'm sure he was. However, as an adult, I can come and go as I please. He can ask, but not order me to attend him. And as I've said already, I've no desire to see him. So if you're here as an official of the Captaincy, show me your warrant.'

'I have a token in my pocket. Do I need to show it to you?'

'I've got one as well. They cancel each other out.'

'I've never heard that before,' he laughed.

'Look it up in regulations when you get back to the Residence, Lieutenant Fel.'

'Listen, Lessie. I'm sorry, but I have to take you back. I know that you and Sella are in trouble again. And I'm really sorry about that. I wish that it wasn't me who found you, but I have my duty to perform.'

'Not my problem.'

'But you're mine. And to the Residence you must go, young lady,' he added, trying and failing to humor her.

'Do you think you can take me in alone?'

'I hope you will allow me to, but I've got four fellows outside. I didn't want to embarrass you.'

'I wonder what Sella will say, once she finds out about this?' she sighed. 'What will she think of you, when she hears that you had four thugs dragged her sister into the Residence like a common criminal?'

'They're not thugs.'

She may've shrugged.

'I really hope it doesn't come to that.'

'It will, Fel. Sella is a kindhearted girl. But she won't stand for anyone mistreating her sister, orders or no orders.'

'I'm sure she'd understand that I had no choice...'

'You have a choice, Carz. I'm sorry that it has to be you. We are fond of you, and it's not as if you haven't kindly turned a blind eye to a few of our little transgressions in the past. I would hate for that regard to...' She left that hanging, and then continued, 'I know that Sella is very fond of you. Now, I won't say that you must choose between Sella and duty. And I can't say what's in Sella's heart, but I can say that you'll be doing yourself no favor if you bring me in, against my will, on no more than the orders of Grandfather. Charge me with a crime, if you dare.'

'Listen Lessie. I have a sealed envelope in my pocket with orders to use it, if I must. Please don't make me use it.'

'Poor Sella when she sees me being dragged in...'

'You know as well as I do that Sella's not going to see you being dragged in.'

'And why not? What has happened to Sella?'

'Don't play that game with me, Lessie.'

'You seem to forget that I've been locked away in Karitasha for the last four months...'

'Please, Lessie. Don't make me feel more terrible than I do now.'

She was silent for a moment or two, and then said, 'Let me finish my meal.'

'Of course,' he replied, sitting down next to her.

I finished my meal and left without being accosted by the four large Teraven Navy sailors in the station forecourt across the street. I slowly made my way past them, thinking. Well, really there was nothing to think about. We had agreed that I would proceed to Mima Cove regardless of what happened to Lessie. She had assured me that, come what may, she could look after herself. I saw no reason to change that plan – here, at least.

I boarded the local train without being questioned. Whether they didn't care enough about the young man who showed up at Hawker House with forged orders, or if Lessie was keeping Lieutenant Fel occupied with speculation on how his actions would affect Sella's affection for him, I could not say. But they remained at Yin's until my train puffed out of the station.

I let Tapars Grove, our original destination slide by, and rode the train on to Krim Creek, where the next train to Teravena, the one that Lieutenant Fel and Lessie would likely be on, would stop. If Lessie could deal with Lieutenant Fel and his crew, Krim Creek would be where she would likely alight, since it was the last stop before Teravena.

I had an hour, and finding a livery stable, turned out the proprietor to hire and saddle two horses for myself and my wife, who, I said, was still at the station. I made up a story about riding up to my aunt and uncle's farm, two hours up the road. I then walked the horse back down to the station's courtyard to wait in the lush warm night, for the next train. As its scheduled time grew near, a trickle of locals drifted past me, gathering to greet the arriving passengers.

Fifteen minutes later, I watched the big steam engine glide, majestically, to a brief rest a cloud of steam beyond the station building. I stayed with the horses in the dark courtyard, in order to make a clean escape, if necessary.

It wasn't necessary.

Lessie strolled out of the station's front door, her roll-pack slung over her shoulder. She was alone and, thankfully, now undisguised. In deep into a soft, warm moonlit night, I don't think she recognized me standing by my pair of horses.

'Lessie,' I called out softly, as she was about to stalk past me.

She stopped and stared. And I, almost, think that she may have even smiled. Ever so slightly, ever so quickly. But it was dark enough that I can't swear to that.

'Lang,' she said, and stepped over to us.

'Well done,' she said with a nod to me, and greeted the horses with pat on their necks. Then, slipping the strap of her roll-pack over her head, she added, 'Let's be off. We've got a long night ride ahead of us.'

We mounted up and rode out of town in silence.

With the open road ahead, I ventured a question. 'Lieutenant Fel?'

'If I can handle Banjar pirates, I can handle poor Carz.'

'The same way?'

'Yes.'

'You killed him?' I said, shocked.

'No, of course not. I put him to sleep, just like I did the Banjars. He should be awake by the time the train pulls into West Bank Station.'

Sleep instead of death; I found I was relieved to discover that. Perhaps because I feared the same fate...

'And his four helpers?'

'They are traveling in a separate compartment. Carz needed some privacy to plead his case.'

'Will Sella forgive him?'

'Of course she will. The question is, will Grandfather?' she said grimly, but with, perhaps, a faint smile.

'How do you do it?'

'What?'

'You know, make them sleep?'

'Oh, it's a talent of mine. I'm a sorceress, after all.'

'Poor Lieutenant Fel. I gather that he is rather taken with Sella. Are they a couple?'

'Jealous?'

'No.'

'Ha.'

'She's already made that clear that we can only be friends,' I said, but stopped there, not wanting to say why.

'I'm sorry.' She wasn't.

'I like Sella, but believe it or not, I'm looking forward to a life of archaeological digs in the islands and, eventually, a university professorship. I've a feeling that Sella is not looking forward to digs and university towns.'

'She'll be the Captain one day. It's a busy life, at least that's what Grandfather says. Since we rarely see him, that might be true. And as far as Lieutenant Fel, he's one of a multitude that Sella has to choose from. He is, however, one of the nicer ones. But who knows what, if anything, will be left of him, and his career, after he reports to Grandfather.'

'Still, it could be said that he has no better luck dealing with the Raah twins than your grandfather has.'

'True. But he'd be rather reckless to point that out to Grandfather,' she replied, and then switched subjects. 'We have the better part of a day in the saddle ahead of us. If we pick up the pace, we can make Harvestvale in two hours and spend the night there.'

'You don't expect pursuit tonight?'

'By the time they get to Teravena, it will be too late to return. With a fresh start in the morning, we can make Castle Vel by mid morning. Grandfather likely has the castle and road down to the coast watched already. And will certainly have it watched when he hears Lieutenant Fel's report. It will be obvious that I am making my way to the coast, and now they will know the coast I'm heading to. Still, Castle Vel can't be avoided, we'll just have to deal with what we find.'

Not knowing what we would face, and not particularly wanting to – I wanted to sleep tonight – I said nothing. I urged my horse ahead to catch up with Lessie, who, with that explanation, had ordered her horse to a gallop. And so, through a quiet, warm night we followed ancient, narrow, hedge bordered lanes, through rolling farm fields by the light of the two moons to the rhythmic beat of horse hooves on gravel.

05

Castle Vel, according to my guide book, is famous for its ancient castle and wall that sealed the top of a long ravine that had once allowed the fierce coastal tribes to reach and raid the high plateau of Teraven. Those wild tribes have long since been tamed and absorbed, making the castle and wall mere tourist attractions these days. We rode into Castle Vel's outskirts shortly before noon. Lessie stayed behind at a small tourist kaf house just out of town, while I went on ahead to turn over the hired horses to the livery stable's Castle Vel branch. She feared that the livery stable might be watched.

It may have been. I noted several, young, neatly dressed, idlers across the street from the stable. They looked too well turned out to be as idle as they acted. But they paid no attention to me, so that may've have been all in my imagination. Still, I took a roundabout way back to the kaf house – using what I could recall from one morning's lecture on how to avoid being followed – another part of my political officer's training. I reported back to the customary grim Lessie over lunch. After adding a small canvas bag with food for dinner, and possibly breakfast, to our roll-packs, we set out through the picturesque back streets of Castle Vel.

The castle consisted of an ancient fortress facing what was now a winding road down to the sea. Flanking it were two long walls that ended in steep cliffs on both sides that sealed the breach in the escarpment. Castle and walls were now set in a wide, green park that was crowded with tourists and picnickers. We stopped in a narrow alley across the street from the park to allow Lessie time to search the crowd for people she might recognize.

'What are the odds that three of Grandfather's staff are on holiday in Castle Vel?' she said after studying the lay of the land for a while. 'And seem content to hang about the gatehouses? There are probably more along the wall. They're out in force.'

'Are they going to be a problem?'

'We won't get by them in daylight. Have they already captured Sella?' she asked herself, out loud. 'Or has Grandfather made a shrewd guess? We're getting too old for these games,' she sighed.

I offered no opinion.

'Let's see what our prospects look like going along the wall,' she said, turning back down the alley. We circled around to view the far end of the wall.

The further away from the castle it ran, the less of a wall it became. By its end at the cliff, it was a weedy pile of rubble. The only sections still standing were the gatehouses, which allowed tourists access to the parks on both sides of the wall. We pulled up next to a stone wall across the street and studied the wall from the corner of a suburban lane. Three or four young men could be seen loitering around each of the two gates we could see.

'Recognize any of them?' I asked.

'No, but I recognize what they are,' she replied, turning back. 'Let's find a place to hide out until night.'

A good guess, or had Sella's plan come undone? Either was possible. One thing was clear, however; the Captain of Teraven was very angry with his granddaughters.

We found a small, wall enclosed park, with stone seats against the wall in the shade of some gnarled old trees, where we passed the long, warm afternoon. I made a couple of attempts to make polite conversation, which annoyed her. I then took out "The Island of the Dragon" and read.

Sometime later, I felt Lessie staring at me. I turned and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

'Where did you hide my key?' she asked.

'Oh, you don't have to worry. It's in a nice safe place. No one will ever find it.' I replied, and with a cool smile, added, 'It's as safe as I am.'

She gave me a dark scowl and turned away without another word. Had she given me any reason to trust her?

At dinner time, we ate our boxed lunch, and then she sent me out to buy further supplies. 'Once we're on the road again, we'll have nearly a full day's travel before us, so we'll need food and drink to last – but not weigh us down.'

It was twilight when I returned with the supplies. We divided them up and set out for the far end of the wall, where it was low enough that we could cross it without having to go through the gateways. We once more stood against the wall of a suburban house, while Lessie peered around the corner, scouting the two gatehouses.

'I can't be certain. There's likely men in the shadows of the gatehouse, but they're not actively patrolling the wall. No matter, we must risk it. Better now, when there's still people strolling about, than later. Follow my lead. Don't stop. We'll cross the wall and head directly for the woods on the far side. It will be a very steep hill at this point, but that can't be helped. We'll eventually come to the road below. They won't be guarding the whole length of it. Any questions?'

'No. Lead on.'

She slipped her arm under mine and pulled me close. 'We're lovers looking for some privacy. That will explain why we're exploring the ruins of the wall.'

'Ah, I suppose,' I muttered, suddenly nervous.

We slipped our roll-packs down to the hollows of our back to hide them as best we could and started across the road, at a meandering pace. We slipped into, and kept to, the deep shadows of the trees, whenever possible, as we made our way to the ruins of the wall. At this point it was merely a ragged jumble of tumbled wall stones and debris, pale in the light of the newly risen moons. No one emerged from the gatehouses. We found a low spot, and jumped up, onto the jumble of stones. Lessie quickly led me up and across the pile of rubble and dropped back down into its shadow on the far side.

'Straight into the woods. Stop for nothing,' she whispered, and started off, across the open lawn, bright in the moonlight. She pulled me along, arm in arm, not quite running, but very eager to find a secluded spot. It was a journey of 40 paces, and I expected a shout of "Halt, you two!" any second, but we reached the dark shadows of the woods unchallenged. We pushed our way into the underbrush, and then within a few steps, started down the steep hillside.

For the next hour we slipped and scrambled down a steep, rocky slope, in the nearly pitch black forest. We often had to cling to the low branches of trees, or the thick underbrush, until we found some footing below us. Eventually, we reached the pale band of the moonlight speckled road. Luckily it was dark, since the descent did nothing for our clothes or appearance. There were, thankfully, no Captain's men waiting for us as we emerged from the underbrush. We brushed ourselves off, and then set out, down the still sloping road, keeping to its shadowed edge. We followed the road as it wound its way down to the foot of the escarpment, and then through the forested hills, until well past midnight.

The moons were in the western sky when she suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me over, breaking my idle chain of thoughts, which I immediately lost.

'What?' I exclaimed.

'This way,' She hissed

I looked about. Saw nothing. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing. This lane,' she pointed to the vague outlines of a pale lane under the arching trees, 'leads to the Merath's Lodge. They are old friends of the Raahs. Sella and I have stayed here many times. We can spend the rest of the night here.'

'How will we explain our sudden appearance – at this time of night?'

'Don't be an idiot. We won't explain anything,' she hissed, clearly exacerbated. 'There are several cottages on the Merath ground. I know where they hide the keys. They're probably unoccupied. I doubt any of the Meraths are here at this time of the year. All we have to do is to make sure one is empty, slip in, and spend a few hours sleeping on a soft bed. We can slip away with first light; no one the wiser.'

'You've sold me on that plan.'

'I'm not surprised. Seeing that Castle Vel was guarded, we must assume Mima Cove will have its watchers as well, so there is no point arriving too early. Sleep now while we can. We still have a long walk tomorrow, and then, perhaps, a long night, since we'll have to find a boat to borrow, in order to reach pirate island.'

'Ah, borrow a boat?'

'Steal a boat.'

'Right.'

After following the nearly pitch black lane through a pine woods, we came to a broad, moonlit lawn with a large, rambling dark house at its center. There were no lights showing in the main house nor in the vaguely seen four cottages set along the edge of the woods.

'Likely only the staff is in residence at the moment. They live in the lodge. I know where they hide the key to that cottage,' she said, pointing to the first cottage set against the moonlight etched island pines. 'Follow me.'

She found the key behind a loose stone in the foundation and carefully unlocked the door, easing it open.

'Stay here until I make certain it's deserted,' she hissed.

She came back a minute later, 'It's ours for the night.'

We didn't dare light a lantern, so we had to stumble through the dark cottage and up the narrow stairs to the two, hot and stuffy, bedrooms under the sloping roof. She took one, I the other. I quickly undressed in the patch of moonbeams slanting through the small window, which I opened, and despite the heat, was asleep almost before my head reached the pillow.

06

I didn't wake up until bright sunlight had replaced the moonlight and a young girl – a maid – let out a startled shriek from the doorway.

I suppressed my own yelp. I sat up and put on what I hoped was my best, friendly smile, and said, 'Good morning, I seemed to have overslept.'

Since she didn't run screaming down the stairs, I likely succeeded.

Instead she asked, 'Who are you?'

'A good question.'

'He's a friend of mine, Dorie,' said Lessie, behind her, making her jump and squeak, this time, as she twirled around to face her.

'Oh, its you, Lady Raah. I, I didn't know... I wasn't told.'

'We arrived late last night, quite unannounced. A hurried decision. We're sorry to have startled you.'

'Are you planning to stay on... The Gan party is set to arrive today. I was told to freshen up the cottage.'

'Oh, no. We're just passing through... Come with me, I'll tell you all about it while... Lang, here, gets dressed,' she said, as she ushered Dorie out the door.

I had to smile as I climbed out of bed and dressed in clean clothing. She had certainly forgotten my given name. A few minutes later, I clumped down the narrow staircase to find Lessie and Dorie huddled around the small kitchen table. Dorie looked up, blushed and gave me a rather strange smile, which made me rather uneasy. Lessie looked at me strangely as well. In her case, I think she was trying to look... affectionate?

I no doubt looked as embarrassed as I felt. Dorie flashed Lessie a quick smile, and said that she'd best get on with her work.

'What time is it?' I asked Lessie as Dorie slipped shyly past me and fled upstairs.

'Mid-morning.'

'That late?'

'Yes, my dear,' she replied, just loud enough for Dorie to hear her. 'I thought you needed your rest,' she added in a bantering tone that wasn't evident in her face.

'Ah, yes. And now I'm starving. What's for breakfast... My darling?' I asked, just loud enough as well – if that was our story, I'd play along, if only to annoy her.

It worked, but she kept it out of her voice. 'Oh, I'm sure you are. All we have is what we brought with us. I've eaten. But hurry, we need to be on our way.' That last was true enough.

And so, ten minutes later, we were, on our way, back on the tree shaded road to the sea.

'Did you really suggest that to Dorie?' I asked, as soon as we were out of earshot.

'What do you think?'

'And she believed you?'

'Come up with a better story,' She snapped and gave me her darkest, most dangerous scowl. 'And why not?'

I realized that I'd reached the edge of a cliff, and that it would be now wise to step back. 'Ah, how did you explain the two beds?'

'I was up before you and had already made my bed before she arrived.'

'Why didn't you wake me up?'

She looked away. 'I felt an hour or two wouldn't make a difference. No point arriving in Mima Cove before late afternoon. We won't attempt to reach the island before nightfall.'

'Why, thank you, my darling.'

'Don't...' she snapped.

'I'm just teasing.'

'Don't.'

'Right. So what was, or is, our story?'

'That we've run off and are on our way to the Beling Lodge, down the coast another 30 kilometers. Grandfather didn't approve of you, so we were traveling in secret. I asked her to say nothing to anyone up at the lodge about it. And that I'd fill her in on all the details when I was around next time. Dorie will keep our secret, at least for long enough that it won't matter.'

'Well, there's an element of truth in it, which helps make it feel believable. Still, it must have been hard for you to tell it with convincing sincerity. And by the way, my given name is Taef.'

'It was, and I'll try to remember your name in the future. Now stop here and give me time to get ahead. We don't want to be seen together.'

I wasn't sure why, but I stopped and gave her a hundred pace lead. As I watched her walk ahead, I thought how, with anyone else, the whole episode would have been a lark. We would've been laughing halfway to Mima Cove. But with Lessie, it was all just a grim necessity. Thankfully, Sella, however dangerous she might be, would at least be pleasant company to Fey Lon. And then, hopefully, once I turned over the key, I'd be free of the Raah Twins. They could write me a letter to tell me what they found behind the door.

07

We reached Mima Cove, after crossing the coastal road, some time after midday. It proved to be a small hamlet of holiday cottages set on the hills above an island-studded bay. Several shops, a tavern or two, and three restaurants, constituted its high street along the coastal road. Since Lessie had been a regular visitor at several of the larger houses around the bay, she sent me ahead to buy lunch, and dinner, as well, which we ate sitting on a low, overgrown stone wall of one of the estates, with the deep blue of the bay below us peeking through the leaves.

'As soon as you've eaten, go down to the harbor and have a look around. This is not a holiday season, so it should be very quiet. Some fishermen on the pier, a few boat owners messing about aboard their boats, a few locals. Note anyone who looks out of place. Let's see if they're here in force, as well. And don't give yourself away, either.' Lessie had said when we finished or meal.

The harbor wasn't large, just two floating piers. There were a handful of yachts and a couple of fishing boats tied up alongside of them. There were a couple dozen rowboats for hire pulled up on the sandy beach. What was most notable, however, was the silence. You could hear the lap of the waves against the piers, and the wind hissing through the pines of the surrounding hills. Mima Cove was not bustling. The rowboats on the beach suggested that it had its bustling days, but this was not one of them.

I felt uncomfortably out of place, even idly strolling about, especially, when I noticed that I was being watched by a fisherman on the pier, a bather on the beach, and a fellow lounging in the shadows of snack stand, with a half filled glass of white kaf in his hand, who casually looked away as I glanced towards him.

I was tempted to walk up to the stand and order a glass of kaf as well, just to, well, to allay any suspicion, but I had no great confidence in my Teravenian accent. Instead, I wandered back up the hill with the feeling that I was being followed. I didn't dare to look back, as that would be out of character. But I turned into the gateway of one of the large lodges, and sprinted for the trees that lined its low stone walls to find cover. If I had been followed, he didn't followed me in, and so after about 15 minutes, I found a place to climb over the wall, and carefully made my way back up to Lessie, higher in the hills, to made my report.

'I'm not surprised. I'd be more concerned if you'd seen no one, for they must be watching Mima Cove. Hopefully Sella made it to Pirate island and kept the Night Song well hidden. We'll know tonight. I know of several estates along the bay where we should be able to find the necessary rowboat.'

And with that determined, we settled back against the wall to await the night. I pulled out the "Island of the Dragon" and offered Lessie her choice of the other two. Once more, she declined with a shake of her head. I read until I fell asleep.

The sun was already nearly touching the sea beyond the bay when I awoke. Lessie hadn't seemed to have moved at all, and if she had napped as well, she had awoken before me.

'Supper time,' I said, putting my book away, and searching our bag of supplies for the rolls, cheese and hard sausage that I knew was in there. These were, of course, not the island foods I'd grown up eating, but having spent seven years on the continent, I had widened my culinary tastes considerable. 'Seen anything interesting?'

'A naval launch patrolling the mouth of the bay.'

'Trouble?' I asked, handing her a cup of Kaf from my canister.

'If they haven't captured Sella, nothing that patience can't solve,' she said looking out over the bay. 'Grandfather can't keep all these aides and the navy tied up searching for his wayward granddaughters forever. I have to believe that the Captain's Council will object to him spending government money to try, and fail, to keep his granddaughters in check.' And with that, she ate her meal without further comment.

We did not set out until the day's glow in the west had faded and Irra, the first of the moons had risen. We followed a dark, moon-light dappled lane around the northern shore of the bay until we came to a tall, closed and barred wrought iron gate, flanked by three meter tall stone tall walls on either side.

'The Wayling's Mima Cove Lodge,' she said, and slipped into the head height shrubbery along the wall. I followed her in, shoulder to the wall, brushing the branches away for five or six paces before she stopped, and started to climb the wall, using a fracture in the wall and several missing stones for foot holds. I waited until she was up and over before making my way up and over as well.

'What are you? Some sort of high society burglar?' I asked, as I landed beside her in the shadows. I could see the large lodge across the tree shadowed lawn. It was mostly dark, with only the hint of lights towards the back of the lodge.

'As the orphaned granddaughters of the Captain, many important families were delighted to host us,' she said quietly, starting off, but keeping to the dark shadows under the trees that lined the wall. 'As we grew older, that delight tended to wear off quickly. We were best enjoyed in small dosages. Nevertheless we stayed at many of the great houses, and country homes, of the most important families of Teraven. Sella was quite popular with the young members of these important families, so we were shown many of their secrets, including how to get in and out of their estates unobserved.'

'And yet, at least until recently, you've been allowed to run loose,' I said, shaking my head.

'Youthful indiscretion is one of the perks of hereditary leadership.'

'So it would appear.'

We made our way around the lodge and then down the hill to the shore. There were several boats too large for our purpose tied to the floating dock, but we found a rowboat alongside the boat shed that was small enough to flip over and drag down to the beach.

'Oars?' I asked once we had it in the water.

'In the boat shed,' she replied, starting up again for it.

'Locked, as I thought it would be,' she hissed, after trying the door. 'Stay here while I get the key to the boat shed.'

'How?'

'By going up to the house and getting it. They always keep the keys to the boats and shed just inside the back door.'

'There's lights on, and people about,' I said, looking up the hill. 'Is that wise?'

'Just the servants. Do you have a better plan?'

She had me there. 'Well...'

'Stay out of sight. I'll be back in a minute,' she hissed, and started up the hill.

We needed oars, so I stayed out of sight. She returned two minutes later and after trying several keys, found the right one and swung open the wide door to the warm, dark, and musty smelling shed, filled, presumably, with marine supplies, since only a few vague shapes were outlined in the faint moonlight. The oars were, thankfully, close at hand, and she sent me down to the boat with them. And then, after locking the door again, she headed back to the lodge. It was an unnecessary risk in my opinion, since the missing boat would tell the tale, but I kept that thought to myself. I set the oars into the oarlocks and waked the boat out until its bow just touched the sandy bottom.

She returned shortly without raising any alarm, and climbed aboard, taking her seat at the stern of the boat. I pushed us off, jumped on board, and stumbled to its bench. Taking the oars in hand, I swung us around and set out across the glittering, faintly heaving surface of the bay, towards the black islands.

I rowed while Lessie hissed instructions – more this way, more that way, too far that way – for the better part of half an hour before we glided into the deep shadows of some overhanging island pines and came to a soft stop.

'Quietly now, just in case,' she whispered.

In case of what? But I didn't ask. I just carefully unshipped the oars and set them between the two benches, and climbed over the side and into the warm, knee deep water to pull the boat up to the shore. Lessie rose, and carefully stepped, bench, to bench, to bow, to island, and into the underbrush.

'Tie up the boat and come along,' she whispered.

I tied up the boat and followed her into the inky blackness of the island, avoiding as much underbrush as possible. We must have landed on the far side of the island, since it took us perhaps a quarter of an hour dodging bushes, trees, and outcropping rocks before reaching the Night Song. It materialized suddenly as a pale deck just below the rocks we had stepped out on. Looking around, it almost seemed like it was part of the island, since it nearly filled the little inlet. Looking up, I could see that its mast was sprouting branches and leaves, no doubt to keep its presence here secret.

Lessie studied the yacht for several moments, before jumping to the after deck alongside a small mizzen mast and then down into the cockpit and calling out, 'Sella?'

Moments later a dark figure came flying out of the hatch of the low cabin and seeing Lessie, leaped over to embrace her. They hugged and kissed each other on the cheeks.

'I am so happy to see you!' exclaimed Sella. 'I knew I shouldn't be worried, and yet, I couldn't help worrying.'

'I'm delighted to see you as well. I feared that you had been captured. It seems that Grandfather has turned out the entire Residence to capture us.'

'Ha! Still here we are! Taef?' she added suddenly, looking about.

'Present,' I said, leaping down to join them on the deck.

Sella slipped by her sister to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek as well. 'Now, wasn't that a grand little adventure. I bet you two had a lark!'

'Oh, it was a lark alright,' I laughed.

'You didn't have any trouble, did you?'

'Oh, just a little, now and again. We ran into a friend of yours,' I replied.

'Fel,' said Lessie.

'Dear Carz. I hope he was a dear and let you slip by him,' she said, turning to Lessie.

'I slipped by him, but not because he was a dear,' she replied tartly. 'He claimed that regretfully it was his duty to turn me in, all the while pleading with me to square it with you.'

'Oh, that batto-rat!' exclaimed Sella. 'Rest assured, my dear sister, I'll make him pay for that!' But she was too happy to put any venom in that. 'Still I'm sure you could handle poor Carz.'

'Obviously.

'And then there was Dorie...' I said teasingly. And instantly regretted it. What was I thinking?

'Dorie?' Sella looked puzzled.

'The maid at Merath's where we spent last night,' snapped Lessie. 'We stayed in one of the cabins, where she found us in the morning, because Lang overslept. I gave her a silly story and she bought. Now to business. It appears that there's a navy launch patrolling the entrance to the bay.'

'Wait a minute. What sort of silly story?' asked Sella, glancing between Lessie and me, with a widening smile as her imagination supplied the answer – and perhaps more.

Neither of us cared to answer.

Lessie hurried on; 'Later. Have you timed the patrol?'

'Later, then. Promise?'

Lessie may've nodded.

'As for the patrol, they run it like clockwork,' replied Sella, with a grin. 'I've got the timing down. We'll have no problem slipping by them. We've nearly an hour of moonless night before it brightens in the east.'

'Good. Then let's clear this camouflage, and get her set to sail,' said Lessie. And then turning to me, added, 'Sella and I can see to clearing the boat. Why don't you go along to the point and keep watch for any other patrol boats.'

'Are you sure you don't need help?'

'Yes,' she snapped.

'Run along, Taef,' said Sella, with a laugh.

I ran along. The rocky point that I sat down onto to keep an eye out for patrols wasn't all that far away, but it was just far enough away that I could not hear their actual words. They spoke in level, low voices, but I could just hear enough to know that they had a lot to say to each other. And often, it seemed, in uncompleted sentences. They knew each other that well. It was kind of them to send me off to keep a lookout.

Irra had already set, and Arra was a hand's height above the horizons when I heard the low rumble of an oil engine, and Sella calling me back. I was given a long pole, and between Lessie and I, we guided the Night Song out of the narrow cove that Sella had, somehow, managed to get her into on her own. Once free, we boarded her, and after watching the patrol boat glide past to the south and disappear beyond the southern point, we set out on motor alone, reaching the outer islands just as Arra set.

I must say this, the Raah girls knew how to sail a boat. With the Night Song equipped with all the labor saving winches and gadgets one could wish for, they quickly raised and set both the dark green, batten mainsail, and jib, plus the small batten sail on the short mizzen mast just aft of the sunken cockpit, with practiced efficiency, while I manned the tiller in the cockpit aft of the low cabin. With the sails set, and drawing, Sella took over the tiller. And so, in the faint light of the stars, we set out with the bow waves rolling alongside of us and the unseen west wind filling the sails just enough to gently tilt the Night Song to port. With only the glowing binnacle before the tiller for light, we slipped through the darkness southwards, leaving a faint phosphorous trail behind us.

'I'll take the first watch,' said Sella faintly outlined in the light of the binnacle. 'You two go below and get some sleep.' She gave me a wink as soon as Lessie turned away.

'Yes, sir,' I said, and followed Lessie down the steep steps into the very dark cabin. She took a small electric current lantern off its hook next to the hatch, and briefly turned it on.

'Take the forecastle berth. I'll take the berth here and the next watch,' she said with a wave to the narrow door forward.

'Yes, sir,' I said, and slipped around the saloon's central table and into the slender, triangular forecastle, just ahead of the returning darkness, as she switched off the lantern. I tossed my roll-pack onto the bunk to use as a pillow, and as I laid down on the narrow berth, I wondered, before I fell asleep, if I would miss this strange life with the Raah sisters, or not. I fell asleep before I could decide.

Chapter 08 The Night Song to Fey Lon

01

Just before midnight of the following day, I quietly climbed the steep stairs of the hatchway to the cockpit with a warm mug of kaf in hand. Sella had the watch, and stood on the slanting deck, tiller in hand, etched in the warm glow of the binnacle before her. Arra, low in the western horizon, cast its own cool light on the sea, the Night Song, and Sella. I glanced up at the sails and noted their settings, since I wasn't a mere passenger on this voyage. Both the main and little mizzen sail were braced to port, driving the Night Song along on the light western breeze over a smoothly heaving sea. And overhead, a million stars glimmered.

'A beautiful night,' I said quietly, as I stepped aft to stand beside her. 'You're relieved.'

'Thank you,' she replied just as quietly, and after a yawn, stated our course, pointed out two islands, dark notches on the horizon, and then pointed them out on the faintly illuminated map on the binnacle. 'Steady as she goes.'

'Steady as she goes,' I repeated formally and stepped over and exchanged places with her, setting my cup of kaf in the gimbal stand on the binnacle to keep it from sloshing over and took the tiller in hand. I could feel the gentle pulse of the ship's life in its lively little pulls and pushes. 'Sleep well.'

But instead of going below, she hopped up on the cockpit cowling behind me and sitting against the mizzen mast, said with a teasing smile, 'This must be a boyhood dream come true.'

I shifted my position to keep an eye on both the binnacle and her, and replied cautiously, 'How so?'

'Oh, come now. Here you are sailing the Tropic Sea alone with two beautiful young women, twins, in fact. That must be the dream of every red-blooded boy.'

'I seem to recall that my red-blooded boyhood dream was sailing the Tropic Seas with a faithful sidekick and finding ancient ruins and treasures, as you well know. If I happened to save a pretty girl from reef dragons now and again, fine and good. But I can't say sailing alone with beautiful twins ever entered my mind – as a boy.'

She gave me a little kick with a bare foot. 'Oh come now, you expect me to believe that?'

'As a boy. As a young man... Well, here I am, so I don't have to dream, do I?' I was, however, quite sure it was a dream, in that regards, anyway.

She smiled. 'So what are you going to do about it?'

'Have you changed your mind, Sella? About being just friends?'

'No.'

'Then nothing.'

'Oh, Taef, don't be like that.'

'Like what?'

'Shy, proper, deferential, and so unbelievably chaste. Gather your courage. Now is the time to be bold – you've got days and days to win her over. You can do it. I know she likes you...'

I just shook my head.

'She does! But she's proud, so it's up to you to make the first approach.'

'Anything for a laugh, hey, Sella?'

'Not at all. I want Lessie to find her happiness.'

'And me?'

'You too, of course.'

I shook my head again. 'In that case, I'm sorry, but no. I am perfectly willing to try, mind you, try to like Lessie, as a friend. But no more. She's not the girl I'm looking for.'

She leaned closer and put her hand on my shoulder. 'She's not the girl she appears to be. I know just about everything about her, but the secrets of her heart. For that, I'm left to guess, to observe, and to draw conclusions. I can tell you this; she wasn't always as she is now. Growing up she was always quieter than I, more clever, more daring – the mastermind behind our devilment. But at some point, around when we were fifteen or sixteen, she changed. It didn't happen all of sudden. But over time she grew colder, harder, remote, and unhappy. As you see her today. I have to believe that she was terribly hurt or devastatingly disappointed in love. She has her pride, you know, and if she was rejected – even kindly, well. She had friends, boys, back then... And one of them must have been very special to her, so perhaps it was unintentionally, even unknowingly.. And well, there were several more, ah, more forward ones, that, if she had fallen for, well... As I said, she does not speak of it, so I am left to guess.

'I suppose I should've seen what was going on with her, but then, I was young as well, and wrapped up in my life and my fantasies. If I wasn't so self-absorbed, I would've noticed more, and perhaps could've helped her. Not that she would have listened to my advice, but I could have helped her heal her broken heart before it grew so customary. I feel so guilty for not seeing her hurt... How could I have missed it?' she sighed.

'Perhaps because it didn't exist. Lessie told me that she is who she is, and that she is happy as she is. Some people are just like that. I worked in my folk's store all the while I was growing up. There were certain customers, Mrs. Gan, Miss Treta, old Mr. Yatana, to name three that I recall, who were always grumpy, always unhappy with this or that. Always put upon. They never changed, and I think they would frighten you if they ever did. Some people like looking at the world through dark spectacles. I think your sister is one of them. Perhaps instead of trying to change her, you should just accept her as she is.'

She shook her head, 'No! I know my sister, and she's not as she appears to be. Not yet, anyway. And I know that she likes you, Taef, as much as she will let herself like someone. She wouldn't have trusted you with the golden key if she didn't. And I could sense, in the way she told the stories of your adventures, that you have not disappointed her. I assure you that her pride would not have allowed her to invent that story for Dorie if she did not think that you were worthy of being her lover, her love.'

'It was just expedience, no more,' I replied, with just a shade of doubt that I tried to hide. Expediency did not, it seemed to me, fully, explain letting me sleep in. Maybe it was just gratitude. I knew, however, that I had pleased her when I had anticipated her escape.

'No. She was trying out the idea. Give her a chance. Don't judge her as she is. She'll change if you give her a reason. Give her that reason.'

'Why? Try as I might, she's hard to like. And I certainly can't pretend to love her. She'd know. So I'd only wound her again. She said that she doesn't have friends because she senses that it's often more about pity, than friendship. How much more hurtful it would be if I pretended love, even if it was out of genuine friendship? I don't want to love her. She is not my type. And I don't want to be untrue to her.'

'You could try, for my sake.'

'And end up with her giving me a shove overboard in the dark of the night for playing her false. No thanks. I don't want to feed the armorfish.'

'Is there someone else?'

'Well, no.'

She stood and stepped close. 'Will you keep your heart open for her?'

'My heart is open for the right person. Some day.'

'You can't rule Lessie out, not after only a few days of knowing her.'

It struck me that that wasn't quite a question. And that Sella, for all her teasing and charm, was a girl, a woman, who seemed used to getting her way, one way or another. I decided that it was a simple enough request.

'I have been, and will continue to be open to all the friendship Lessie is willing to share with me. I will never, intentionally, hurt Lessie. I will be true to her, as I am being to you now.'

'Oh, I suppose I must be content with that. Don't run us into any islands. Goodnight Taef.'

'Goodnight, Sella.'

I watched as she disappeared down the hatch way, and sighed. Zar Lada never had problems like this.

Still, it was hard to be downcast under a million stars, a warm steady breeze a smoothly polished sea with a sheen of starlight and a fine, friendly, yacht in hand.

02

Four hours later, Lessie relieved me at the tiller. I gave her the course and our position and turned the tiller over to her.

'A word with you,' she said as I stepped out of her way.

'Yes?'

'Sella and I will sail on alone after Fey Lon, once you have turned over my key – to me. We've not discussed this yet, but I will insist on it. If I must share the secret of my key, it will be only with her. I wanted to tell you now, and take full responsibility for that decision.'

I felt no great disappointment. I was curious where all this was leading to, but I'd already known enough things that I could not reveal. One more thing did not greatly appeal to me.

'That is perfectly fine with me. Right now I'm still a shanghaied sailor. But once I'm back on Lil Lon, my status will change. I'll be the navy's again and sailing on with you and Sella would be somewhat problematical for me.

'That said, while I can see that you and Sella can sail the Night Song, there's more to sailing the Tropic Sea than just sailing the boat, as you well know. There's weather, wars, and unpleasant people plying this sea. Your Vente reputation may not protect you. I am willing, out of friendship and concern, to stay on. A third person may come in handy.'

I hadn't really meant to offer that, as it would be problematical, as I said, but I did. Out of, I guess, friendship.

'That will not be necessary. Our powers don't decline with distance, so you needn't worry on that account. And if we should sail into something truly dangerous, a third person would unlikely make any difference. You'd merely suffer a fate that you didn't deserve.'

I shrugged. I wasn't compelled to disagree, but I had a feeling that if Sella had been telling me this, I might have objected more. 'If that is how you feel, I'll not object. Good night, Lessie,' I said and turned to go below.

'There is one more thing.'

'Yes?' I said, turning back to her.

'I want to apologize for how my sister has treated you. She used you ruthlessly, if not recklessly, to force me to share the key, the discovery, and the treasure. She put you, and the secret you hold for me, into such jeopardy that I had no choice but to fall in with her plan.

'Had you been captured in Teraven, you would have spent more than half your life behind walls – until Sella, or should I say, if Sella, was appointed Captain of Teraven. No one in authority would have allowed you to leave Teraven on your word of honor.

'She may never have considered it reckless. She believes that she can charm her way out of any adverse consequences. But for you, it would've been different. This time, she went too far for her charm to work. We won't be able to return home for years, no matter what we find when we turn the lock. We are now on our own, and must pay the price of our games.'

'You know for certain that it is a key in the cylinder?'

'Yes, I opened it. Inside is a map and a Founders' key – a slender rod with markings that can be slipped into a hole to be "read." They were used to open, authorize, or start things.'

I nodded. 'Yes, I've come across references to such an artifact in my studies. Studies that might come in handy once you find your treasure,' I said. She had indeed described a Founders' key, so her treasure suddenly seemed a whole lot more real, and appealing.

'I have also made a study of Founders' artifacts,' she replied, sharply. 'What we find is less important than just finding it.'

'Well, I have discovered my own treasure, so I won't begrudge you yours. If you like, I will tell you where to find your key, should something happen to me.'

'I would appreciate that.'

'It is hidden in my old bedroom in my family's house on Lil Lon. The house is called "Seaview" on Nirivara Street, on the western side of the island. It is a wide house surrounded by two verandas. My old bedroom is on the upper floor, the last room on the right, when looking at the house from the street. I keep a key to the glass-pane doors on a hook under the seat of the built-in bench on the veranda. The bedroom should be empty. Open the closet door and push down on the floor boards next to the wall in the closet – on the left hand side. One will be loose and you'll be able to push it down and slide it forward. In the hollow will be a box with your key and the coin. Got it?'

'Seaview on Nirivana Street, upper floor, right. Key under the bench, loose floorboard in the closet.'

'Right. There's a trellis in the back that you can climb to reach the upper veranda. I used it all the time growing up. Watch your shadows, as both other bedrooms on that side will be occupied. It's best to wait until the moons set.

She nodded. 'Don't worry. Sella and I are old hands at that sort of thing, as you know.'

'And perhaps... Just perhaps, I should add that I don't know how my employers – the navy, to be precise – have taken my disappearance. It is remotely possible that they might be keeping an eye on my house. Political department personnel – intelligence officers – tend to be a rather suspicious lot. Who knows what they may suspect in my disappearance? I'm just a limited time officer, a small kelp darter in the affairs of the island. But, you see, there's a complex web of intrigue running through all the islands, and so they might connect my disappearance to some larger intrigue. Who knows? Still, as long as I'm alive you shouldn't have to worry about that. I'll take you to my home, collect your key, and you can be on your way. I'll deal with the consequences once you've sailed.'

She nodded. 'Goodnight.'

And I replied the same, and quietly climbed down the steep steps to reach the dark saloon, lit by a small oil lantern over the table. The galley was off to the left of the stairs, to the right, storage lockers and an access door to the small engine compartment. There were two benches on either side of the central table set over the housing for the retractable keel. Sella was sleeping on the starboard bench, so I slipped around the port side and into a narrow passage, the wardrobe on one side, the head on the other, before ducking into the low, triangular shaped forecastle with a single berth on one side and some narrow lockers on the other. I undressed and slipped into the berth that Lessie had recently vacated.

03

I awoke with sunlight falling through a small skylight over head, dressed and slipped into the saloon. From the hatchway I could hear the sisters carrying on one of their very quiet, but very intense, sisterly confabs, so I kept to the saloon and ate my share of the breakfast Sella had made until Lessie came down.

'It's settled,' she said, seeing me. She said nothing more while she quickly ate the breakfast waiting for her. After a couple of unsuccessful attempts at conversation with her, I took my cup of kaf up the ladder to keep Sella company.

'She told you?' asked Sella as I came up to sit alongside her on the cockpit cowling.

'Last night.'

'She's so frustrating. But we mustn't despair. We have some fourteen days of sailing to reach Fey Lon to break through her thorny shell.'

I gave her a warning look. 'You know, Sella, there are limits as to what you can charm me into doing.'

'I haven't found them yet,' she replied smugly.

What could I say?

We had warm, wonderful weather, reliable winds, if sometimes faint while crossing the equator, but never failing – and only two brief rain storms, the barometer holding nice and steady. And though the sea often had half a dozen sails, none of them paid any uncomfortable interest in our little boat.

On the third day we called on the last Vente island for fresh supplies. We had enough canned supplies to last a month or more, but fresh fruit, vegetables, eggs, and cured meats were a welcome addition to our meals. Sella and I went up to the market to do the shopping while Lessie watched the boat. We didn't spend more than an hour in port and the island never stopped rocking, but it was still a nice break. We briefly called on islands every two or three days for fresh supplies until Fey Lon was only two days of sailing before us.

Life aboard the Night Song was just as pleasant as the weather, set within the relentless regiment of watches. We divided up the galley duties, slept out of the way, and generally got along like a well oiled machine, despite Lessie's thorns. If I wanted company, I'd seek out Sella. If she was sleeping, or I wished to read, or be alone, I could go forward and sit against the low cabin to stare out at the islands, the sea with its colorful dabs of sails, and the vast sky, letting my mind wander, and nap.

Lessie pretty much kept to herself when I was awake and about. She didn't actually avoid me – she couldn't on a 12 meter yacht, but even when we were together – we made the midday meal together, she was remote, and seemed either annoyed or on the edge of being annoyed. It was only when she was alone, on the deck ahead of me, when I had my afternoon watch, that her normal scowl would mellow into a thoughtful, rather forlorn look.

04

As I brewed a small pot of kaf in the saloon before going up to take my midnight watch, I had to laugh, rather regretfully. Twelve days on a small boat with two very pretty girls – if one wasn't so grim – and I was treating them, and being treated by them, as a brother. I don't know how I could ever explain that, except to say that I hadn't a choice. I was a storekeeper's son, and they, the daughters of the hereditary rulers of a great nation. There was, in both the charming Sella and thorny Lessie, a formidable core of cold steel that effectively made any romantic thoughts just a dream. A storekeeper's son did not mess with sorceresses, or Raahs.

And yet, it was a dream voyage – warm, bright days of blue skies and bluer sea, with good company – in Sella, anyway. The winds stayed fair – we rarely had to touch the trim of the sails. But I was also sailing towards an uncertain reckoning with Captain Char and the Aerlonian Navy. And as the days passed, too quickly, that began to weigh on me.

As I climbed to the deck, Sella, at the tiller, pointed almost directly ahead, 'What do you make of that?'

On the south, southeast horizon, I could see a red glow, far too early for sunrise.

'An erupting volcano.'

She nodded. 'Must be, likely a hundred kilometers or more away yet. Sight lines suggest a handful of possible islands, including Fey Lon, though it is still almost 500 kilometers away.'

'I'd be surprised if it was any of Fey Lon's five volcanoes. One still smokes, but none of them have shown any fire in living memory.'

'Well, keep an eye on it. We may need to alter our course. And try to get a better reading on it before the sky brightens. Until then, steady as she goes.'

'Aye, aye. Steady as she goes.'

Sella didn't stay to chat, but went down the hatch to get some sleep.

All the islands of the Tropic Seas are volcanic, and many of them have active volcanoes. Fiery eruptions, like the one over the horizon are not rare, when one considers the Tropic Sea as a whole. But then, they're not exactly an everyday experience in the islands either. Depending on the size of the island, an eruption like that could have people abandoning their homes and taking to their boats.

I kept an eye on it during my watch – it may have grown a little brighter and showed more of a brighter center, its sight line did, indeed, cross the island of Fey Lon. But, unless it was a vast volcano, I had to believe that it was much closer than the 400 kilometers we were away from Fey Lon. By the time Lessie relieved me at the tiller a thin plume of smoke had spread across the southern horizon, and glowed pink in the light of the new day.

Throughout the day, the plume of dirty yellow smoke spread further overhead while we sailed more or less towards it. The smoke dimmed the day, turned the sun red, and darkened the sea to a brooding yellow-green. By midday we could see the faint glow of fire reflected in the clouds ahead, even in the sunlight.

'It has to be closer than Fey Long, and that would make it an island in the making, since I can't fit a closer island on the chart to it,' said Sella, as I emerged from the cabin to take my midday to four watch at the tiller.

'As likely as not,' I said, and glanced at the chart under its pane of glass that showed the volcano's sight line and our course line drawn on the glass with a wax pencil.

They were closer together than I cared to see. 'We might want to alter our course a bit.'

'That's what I'm thinking,' she replied, and called out to Lessie, who was washing up the dishes in the saloon, to come up and discuss what to do. Since they were more experienced sailors than I, I let them settle on a new course. Sella swung the Night Song directly south, putting the brightest spot on the horizon on our port beam before handing the tiller over to me. 'Steady as she goes.'

All afternoon we continued to draw ever nearer the eruption, despite our course change. Its smoke become an ugly, dark, blood red hand that stretched over our heads. And by end of my watch, a lightning laced column of smoke arising from the volcano could be seen, though the volcano itself remained below the horizon. With both Sella and Lessie keeping an eye on it, and without orders to further alter course, I kept our course. It did, however, slowly creep aft along the starboard side, so we were slowly sailing past it, and not directly towards it.

I turned the tiller over to Lessie at four, and made dinner, which we all ate on deck. Night came early with deep red skies arching overhead. A red world.

Sella went down to get a nap and I kept Lessie silent company in the cockpit. It was not an evening to be alone. Sella was back up an hour before her watch, and so the three of us were on deck when the sky, to the east, suddenly and silently grew as bright as day.

'That's not good,' I muttered. 'Not good at all.'

'Better take in the jib, Taef,' said Sella, I'll take in the mizzen.'

I made my way forward and had the jib hauled down when the first low, rolling rumble reached me from out of the night. It continued to build in volume while I quickly finished stowing it. That done, I stood next to the main mast, and holding on to one of the lift lines, looked east. The sky continued to brighten – a glowing read stain spreading across the sky. And then, the glistening sea began to rapidly rise, swallowing the ruddy sky, lifting the Night Song with it. We shot up, as the first of the tsunami waves swept by us. On the crest, and then, the Night Song tilted steeply to port as we plunged for the sea bottom on its backside. I had to cling desperately to the line in my hand to keep from being flung overboard.

Lessie pushed the tiller to starboard to bring the boat facing the waves, with only partial success, as the mainsail grew slack in the hollow of the wave.

Several seconds later, as we reached the bottom of the racing wave, we were so deep in its hollow, that I needed to crane my neck and look almost directly up to see the red glowing sky, as the next wave – a racing mountain of water it seemed – reared up out of the darkness and raced for us. I was certain that we were about to be buried beneath the sea in one swoop.

Lessie had now managed to swing the Night Song bow on to the approaching mountain of water, to avoid being flipped over.

'Drop the mainsail, Taef! Sella shouted from the cockpit, where she was clinging to the edge of the cabin.

I twisted around and fell to my knees. Releasing my grip on the lift line, I grabbed hold of the sail's winch, and unlocked its crank with one hand. With a sharp pull, I backed off the crank's brake completely, releasing the barrel so that it could spin freely, which allowed the mainsail to plunge to the deck in an unruly mess over and around me.

As I crawled out from under it, the Night Song was shooting up at a steep angle, like a startled bird, on the racing slope of the next great wave. I held on to one of the battens of the sail as I slipped down the steeply sloping deck towards the cockpit aft. It seemed inevitable that the Night Song would be tossed backwards and buried in the onrushing mountain of water. But, to my wonderment, we reached the wild, white water top of the vast wave only to see yet another great wave racing behind the first. All we could do was hold on for dear life and hope that the Night Song's luck held. Two more great waves quickly followed, but each was less than the one before it.

From the top of the last great wave we saw a strange sight – an onrushing wall of sparks. They engulfed us seconds later as the wind rose to a hot, howling gale. They were not sparks, however, but glowing volcanic stones, which began to rain down on us. They hopped and rattled across the deck, sizzling, while others exploded when they hit the water around us. We took shelter under the unruly mainsail draped over the cockpit. I could hear the sail being pelted by these glowing hot embers, some large enough to bounce the sail over our heads. This rain of rocks may not have lasted more than a minute, but as those glowing hot stones and rocks rained down around us, that minute seemed to never end.

And just when it did – when rain of rocks began to let up, we smelled smoke. Risking the still falling rocks, Sella and I dashed out from under cover to see that a number of the glowing embers had lodged in the folds of the sail, which the gale force winds were now fanning into flames.

'I'll get the fire buckets!' yelled Sella, as she raced down the hatch. I followed her to the hatch, grabbed the first bucket on a line that she handed to me, and raced for the side of the boat. The fire bucket had a line that allowed it to be tossed alongside and drawn up at least half-filled with water. Sella and I frantically scrambled to fill the buckets and douse the little flames before the whole sail went up in flames.

The hot gale was still roaring and the glowing rocks were still occasionally falling around us, but, if we hoped to save the Night Song, we could not afford to give them any mind.

A small rock thumped off my back and left a burn hole in my shirt, but just a red mark on my back, and I brushed another tiny one out of my hair.

Working frantically, we managed to put all the small fires out within two or three minutes without the whole sail going up in flames. After that, we stayed on deck to douse or kick overboard the glowing embers that still occasionally fell from the sky.

As the sea settled and the rain of stones tapered off, Lessie had started the motor, and slowly swung the yacht back on its course. In all, the whole desperate affair may have not lasted more than fifteen minutes before the Night Song began rolling along again in the black sea under the red sky. An hour later, a hot, wet rain began to fall, full of ash that covered the ship with a thin layer of black mud.

In the murky red light of the unseen volcano, and under the leaky cover of what was left of the mainsail, the three of us kept watch in the cockpit, recounting our terror until midnight. Thankfully, the hours went by without a repeat of the great explosion, and at midnight, I suggested that the girls get some sleep.

'Don't worry about relieving me on the hour. Just get some sleep. I'm wide awake and too wound up to sleep.'

Sella brought up a small pot of kaf before she retired. Much appreciated.

I stood my watch steering by the compass alone. Lessie relieved me at four, as usual. I made a pot of kaf for her as well.

05

The day dawned dirty yellow, the sea covered in the haze of smoke like fog, and sprinkled with floating cinder-stones. When we attempted to raise the mainsail, it quickly became apparent that there were more holes than sail. Plus, half the battens were either loose or burned through. It looked more likely to disintegrate in any sort of wind than drive us forward, so we lowered it again and raised the jib and mizzen sails, which were in slightly better shape, to conserve our engine fuel. Unlike the Starsea, the Night Sea had a conventional oil engine, designed to be used as an auxiliary, rather than a main engine. We spent the morning swabbing the poor Night Song to clear it of its coating of ash, and examining the other, luckily minor, cosmetic damage, that the rocks had inflicted on her.

We sighted the loom of Fey Lon Island the following morning. A welcomed sight, for whatever uncertainties Fey Lon held for me, it was, at least, home. And I was ready for home.

During the day the northern shore of Fey Lon grew more distinct, more green – a patchwork of jungles and fields in sunlight and cloud shadows. Its sea birds now weaved through the air overhead, and fished in the sea around us. We steered to sail past the island's western point. Late in the afternoon, as we rounded the point, I pointed out a small bay with a town above it.

'That's Tar Kya. We have a store there, so I've been there many times while growing up. We might want to consider putting in there for repairs rather than continuing on to Fey Lon. It might be safer. I'm not claiming to be famous, but I am known to a lot of people in the harbor there, including the naval personnel who keep an eye on it. I would be expected to report back in as soon as I arrived, and that might put you in an uncomfortable position, since you won't be able to sail until the mainsail is repaired. You'd likely find yourselves at the center of some unwanted attention...'

Sella nodded. 'I take your point.'

'And I should add that the island's rail system is Fey Lon's pride and joy. It circles the island. I could catch a train from Tar Kya and be in Fey Lon within three hours. Which means that I could collect the key and return here within the day, so that you would never have to sail into Fey Lon anchorage.'

'We could take the train and collect my key,' said Lessie tartly.

'As you wish,' I replied, with a smile. 'It would save me the trip back.'

'How much trouble do you think you're in?' asked Sella.

'Hard to say. Being a political officer, and not a line officer, I do have a greater degree of flexibility to pursue my assigned duties. Intelligence work is not watch keeping. However, I have not actually been pursuing my assigned Fey Lon duties... And though my old Admiralty chiefs will appreciate all that I can report, how much good will that buy me here and now, is an open question. Suffice to say, it is far better that you're not in Fey Lon when I do report.'

'Perhaps I could...' began Sella.

'No,' snapped Lessie. 'I know that you think you can talk and charm your way out of anything, but it didn't work with Grandfather this time. We can't risk that my key would be discovered and lost to us.'

'What can the Aerlonian navy do in Fey Lon?' asked Sella, turning back to me. 'What type of authority do they have in this Principality?'

'Technically we're just advisers. However, these island princes are always very concerned about spies, assassins, and agents of revolution – all the islands are rotten with intrigue. All the navy would have to do is to suggest that they might want to detain you, and well, there you'll be.'

'Point taken,' Sella said with a nod. 'Let's look into Tar Kya and see what can be done with our poor, holey mainsail.'

Below the lush green hills and the town of Tar Kya, the harbor proved to be in great disarray. Planks, sheds, batto trees, and half submerged boats bobbed in the waters of the small harbor. Boats could be seen in the batto groves and the large floating wharves had been washed out of their accustomed places by the great wave. The usually bustling little harbor was still bustling – everyone was clearing up the debris and setting things to right, as best they could.

Judging from the height of the boats on the shore, the tsunami that washed around to this side of the island must have been some ten meters high – considerably smaller than the one we had experienced at sea. However, this was the sheltered south side of the island. The north shore of Fey Lon likely experienced a once-in-several-lifetimes sized wave. Hopefully, seeing the new volcanic island emerge, and knowing the likely consequences of that, everyone had taken prudent precautions, like sailing their boats to the south side and moving themselves to the high ground.

'Do you think we'll be able to get any repairs done here any time soon?' asked Lessie, looking grimly about as we slowly drifted into the little bay.

'It is probably the same all the way down the coast to Fey Lon, and far worse along the north shore. I don't think we have a choice. However, we should have no trouble finding fishermen who know how to sew sails, and who are looking for money to pay for the repairs on their boats.'

Lessie sniffed, 'Are there any professional sail makers here?'

'No doubt there are several. However, I'm thinking that a sail patched "island style" may be a better choice. Seen from a distance you'll look like some poor island fisherman, a boat not worth a would-be-pirates bothering to turn pirate for.'

'We have no reason to fear would-be-pirates,' she replied tartly.

'Well, dark green sails are not in style in these islands, so you probably wouldn't be able to find matching canvas in any event.'

'Well, let's see what's available,' said Sella, diplomatically, to keep peace between her (forlornly) hoped for would-be-lovers.

We spent the five days finding and getting an old fisherman to sew patches over the many holes in the mainsail, in a variety of colors – island style. We laid in a good supply of food and fuel from the Lang Mercantile, though I dared not go there myself. While it had been seven years since I was last in Tar Kya, from Sella's description, the staff had not changed much. Mostly, I stayed aboard the Night Song, since I knew that both the navy and the island police had agents who routinely looked in on these smaller ports for unusual visitors. That said, our obvious need for repairs was the perfect cover, so I did not lose sleep over the prospect of being discovered here.

Sella decided that we'd sail to Fey Lon, altogether, rather than take the train. I am sure that she was still hoping for some miracle between Lessie and me. But our sea voyage together had not changed either of our minds. I never saw her smile. She exhibited no more desire for my company than I did hers. In that, and only in that, were we well matched.

With sails patched, and supplies onboard, we decided to make for the small fishing harbor of Alca Cove, on the east side of Lil Lon rather than sail into Fey Lon harbor itself, where our arrival would likely be noted. The navy, I knew, did not pay attention to Alca Cove. And if the local authorities did, I didn't think our brief stay would attract undue attention. From the cove it was a 20 minute walk up and around the little island to Seaview house on Nirivana street. Thus, within an hour of our arrival, Lessie could have her golden key back, and be on her way to wherever and whatever that key would lead her to.

We set sail at midday in order to arrive as the sun was setting on the other side of the island. I packed my roll-pack, reluctantly leaving my novels behind. They would've made good souvenirs of my own adventure. But even without considering their stories of an unknown country, the unique style of their characters, and language would've made them impossible to pass off as coming from either Aerlonia or Feldora, or indeed, any of the islands I was familiar with.

On our arrival, we quickly launched the dinghy. Lessie climbed down and aboard, while I said my goodbye to Sella on the deck. She had a tear in her eye, and assured me that I'd not seen the last of her. I told her that I would try not to take that as a threat.

The short twilight was already fading to night as I rowed the dinghy to the broad beach. The holed fishing boat in the batto trees just beyond the beach suggested that it' too, had been recently swept by the big wave. Pulling the dinghy up onto the beach, I turned and waved to Sella one last time. I would miss her always cheerful company. But not her carefree disregard for trouble.

Lessie was dressed in dark colored slacks and blouse, as usual, as was I, to better avoid unwanted attention until I formally reported. She had stood next to me, silently, as I waved goodbye, but, I could sense, impatiently.

Turning away from the sea, I swung my roll-pack over my shoulder and said, 'Right. Let's get you your key and relaunched on your quest.'

She didn't bother to reply, but started up the steep slope of the beach, silver in the moon light, towards the inky shadows of the batto trees, and a pale path that lead up from there to the lowest shore road that circled Lil Lon.

Chapter 09 A Return to Lil Lon

01

We climbed the steep, sandy path, in silence. Since we never had much to say to each other, I was comfortable with that silence, and passed the time picturing my reappearance, perhaps from the dead, upon reaching home. Once we passed the first row of houses on Shore Street, I turned right – away from the harbor and naval base. And then left, at the first steep "up" street we came to, in order to reach the next higher ring street. Lil Lon streets circled the base of its volcanic peaks in a series of rings. I repeated the process three more times, passing Nirivana Street without mentioning it, to reach the street above it. My plan, just to be on the safe side, was to cut across our up-slope neighbor's yard and enter my old home from the back. While I couldn't see Captain Char assigning an agent to watch my old house, intrigue runs deep throughout the islands of the Tropic Sea. No doubt, my small part in untangling those intrigues had infected my imagination. Better safe than sorry.

It was a soft, warm, silver blue night in the light of the two moons rising in the east. A million stars glittering overhead. The shadows under the trees of the tame jungle were as black as ink. But where the moonlight fell, the streets and lawns glowed in their cool light. The golden light from the oil lamps splashed out from the windows of the houses lining the streets, adding just a dab of color to the lawns and flower beds they fell on. It was still early, so there were people out and strolling about. And from beyond the hedges that guard the island lawns and homes, snatches of conversations and laughter came drifting through their open windows and from the shadows of their verandas.

Having worked our way around to the west side of the island, we had put the moons behind the island's peak. That left only the million stars, the last, lingering light of the day in the west, and the golden glow from the windows to guide us along the pale, crushed volcanic rock streets. But that was enough – these were very familiar streets.

Infected, as I was, with island intrigue, I occasionally glanced back to see if we were being followed. But of course we were not – not that I could see, anyway. Clearly, the sooner I handed over the golden key, the more comfortable I'd feel – at least until I reported to Captain Char in the morning.

When we came to the Vinaw's house, "Island Bloom," I stopped in the deep shadows of some overarching island pines to survey both the street and the yard. There were lights on, but no one appeared to be on the veranda outside.

'Wait here, I want to make certain no one's on the back veranda,' I said quietly – actually the first words I said to her after leaving the beach.

'This isn't your house?'

'No, it's the one directly above mine. I thought it best to slip in from the back.'

She nodded, and did not complain.

I slipped through the gate in the hedge and, keeping to the shadows along the edge of the yard, checked out the back veranda, and the back of my house below.

'All clear. follow me,' I whispered upon my return, and led Lessie around to the rear of the Vinaw's yard.

At the edge of the two back yards, a series of natural stone terraces and an elaborate rock garden separated the yards. I offered my hand to help her make the necessary jumps and navigate the narrow paths, but she ignored it, much to my relief. Within minutes she'd have her golden key and be on her way, out of my life.

I stopped short of the soft, golden shafts of lights from the kitchen and living room that splashed across the pavement stones under the veranda, and considered my next move.

'There's the trellis I spoke of,' I whispered, pointing. 'But as you can see, with the lights on, it's not a very secret way of gaining access to the upper floor. And well, I don't see any reason why we shouldn't just walk in. They know the story of our meeting, so I have a simple and believable explanation for your appearance here. We should be able to conclude our business without much fuss.'

'Go in. Keep them occupied. I'll climb the trellis, get the key from under the bench and collect mine. I remember how to find it.'

'That doesn't work for me. I need your appearance for my alibi. Come along and meet the family,' I whispered, taking hold of her hand. She refused to move, but I wasn't having any of that. 'Oh, come on. Don't be shy,' I added with a little laugh, pulling her along. Probably neither the wisest, or safest thing to do, but she needed her golden key, so she reluctantly gave in.

I pulled her through the back door into the central hallway. To my left was the kitchen, and I could see mother washing the dinner dishes through the doorway. I carefully slipped off my roll pack and without letting go of Lessie hand, I stepped into the kitchen.

'I'm home, Mom!' I called out cheerfully, adding, as I had for many years, 'What did you save for me? I'm starving.'

She stopped washing, and stood still for a moment before turning around to stare at me, and then at Lessie. 'Are you a ghost or are you real?' she whispered.

'A ghost? You've lived in the islands too long, Mom. Of course I'm real. And hungry,' I replied, stepping into the kitchen to embrace her.

'Who?' she whispered, looking past me.

'In a minute, Mom,' I whispered as I stepped back. 'Is everyone home?'

I'll spare you the happy details of my unexpected arrival. After I had hugged Dad, Sis, and Bro, who had come running when I called out to them, I found them staring at Lessie, who had retreated to the back of the hallway near the back door.

'Allow me to introduce you to a friend of mine. Lessie Raah. You remember my story about the shipwrecked Vente and the Banjar pirates the Island Crown encountered on the voyage here? Well, Lessie is one of the Vente from that wreck.' I said, as I once again had to more or less pull her beside me.

'Don't be shy. Meet the family,' I said. I was being slightly cruel, I knew, to both her, and Mom, who was staring at her, with wide eyes. She clearly had remembered my description of the Vente "sorceress." I'm certain that Dad, Sis, and Bro recognized her as well from my descriptions of her at the time, but their reactions may not have been pure dismay, like Mom's.

'Back when we first arrived in Fey Lon, Lessie had asked me to keep a certain token of authority for her. She didn't want it falling into the hands of the Ventes on the boat waiting in the harbor for her. Island politics, you know. That token also explains why I was shanghaied. People wanted it and thought I knew were to find it. But, as I said, that's a long story that can wait until later. Right now, I need to return the token to Lessie and see her on her way. Then I'll be back to answer all your questions. Captain Char can wait until the morning.'

Mom tried to cover her relief with an attempt at a welcoming smile, and would she like something to eat or drink?

Lessie made an equally tentative effort at a smile, falling somewhat short, and said, 'Thank you, but time is of the essence. My sister is waiting aboard our boat and we'd like to conclude this affair as quickly as possible. We're far from home and eager to return, as we have things to do.'

'Right,' I said. 'I hid the token in my bedroom, so I'll just run up and get it.' I said as I selected and lit one of the small oil lanterns from the table by the staircase.

'I'll come along,' said Lessie quickly, eager to escape both questions and to once more hold her gold key.

'As you wish,' I said, lifting my bedroom key from the hook next to the staircase.

She followed me up the staircase that opened to the upper veranda, and then, along the veranda to the glass-pane, double door of my bedroom. I unlocked the door and stepped into my old, and very dark room. Making my way across the room to the desk opposite my bed, I set the lantern down, and stepped around to the closet. Lessie trailed behind me to stand at the desk.

I opened the closet door, and kneeling, found the loose board and lifted it off. It was too dark in the closet to see the box, and so, with a sudden sharp prang of apprehension, I shoved my hand into the dark hole, and, much to my relief, felt the box. 'Found it!'

I pulled it out and climbed to my feet. I set it in the brightest spot on my desk next to the lantern, said, 'It's in here,' as I lifted off the cover. Under the letter I had left explaining who this belonged to, if it was never collected, the gold cylinder glowed softly.

She reached for it and grasped it. And, after carefully examining it, perhaps to see if I had succeeded in opening it, held it in her closed hand and released her held breath. She then slipped the loop over her head and tucked it under her blouse.

'Do you want the shell coin?'

She thought for a moment, and then shook her head no. 'Keep it. If some day Sella ever wants to contact you, she can send a messenger with a matching coin. I'll see to that.'

'Right then. Just to be clear, our understanding is that I can tell my bosses all I observed on Vente Island and nothing of Teraven.'

She nodded. 'A token of authority will serve well as a reason. It is plausible. What went on in Teraven could just have easily have gone on in the islands.'

'Right. I'll sleep on it and hopefully have a persuasive story in hand by morning...'

She was silent for a moment, and then said, 'Thank you.'

'My pleasure. I guess it all worked out alright, in the end. I'll guide you back down to Alca Cove. Don't want you wandering around in circles.'

'I can find my own way.'

'No, it's all part of my service,' I said. 'I want to see you safely off. Let's go. I'm sure Sella is impatiently waiting.'

She probably would've objected more, but she was impatient as well. I told my family that I was just seeing Lessie back to the harbor and would return shortly. And then, we set off, once again via the back yards. We retraced our steps, zigzagging down and around the island to the path that led to the little harbor. As before, we walked mostly in silence.

'Care to stop and kidnap some naughty boys and girls as long as you're here?' I asked as we started out. That, after all, was what naughty children were told the sorcerers of Vente did. if you grew up on the islands.

'That's Sella job,' she replied.

I laughed and stared at her for a second. Was that a true glimmer of humor? If it was, she played it completely deadpan, and said nothing more the whole way back.

At the bottom of the sandy path, at the edge of the shadows, I stopped. My heart was noticeably beating, I believe from it being the end of an almost unbelievable adventure. An adventure straight out of my old Zar Lada, Island Explorer books. What more could a fellow want?

'I'll say goodbye to you here, Lessie. I hope you find a wonderful treasure.'

She just nodded, and said, 'Goodbye.' And continued on ahead.

'Have a safe voyage,' I called after her, and mentally kicked myself. Don't be too nice, I warned myself. Not this close to the end. But I needn't have worried, as she continued on without looking back or any further comment.

She pushed the dinghy out into the gently lapping water, quickly climbed aboard and deftly rowed out to the Night Song.

I was ready to turn away when I noticed a dark figure shoot up from the cockpit and the figures merged. Sella? But it couldn't be, because a second one rose up half a second later. They looked to hold Lessie between them and seemed to be talking quietly, though I could not hear their words. I had a distinct feeling she knew them.

And then, she twisted out of their grasps and lunged for the side of the yacht, trying to escape. She didn't succeed. They caught her, and quickly dragged her unwillingly back into the cockpit. She surrendered, and was handed to a third figure in the hatchway and down into the cabin, followed by the two others.

02

I stepped out, into the bright moon-light, undecided as to what, if anything, I needed to do.

Whoever they were, they had been hiding and waiting for Lessie's return. They spoke for some time, something I didn't think any common harbor pirates would do. Lessie obviously wished, in the end, to escape. And while she had handled both the Banjar, and poor Lieutenant Carz Fel, she seemed to have been taken, or talked into captivity.

I hesitated. I was fairly certain that it was a Vente affair. And none of my business. Except that Sella was a friend, and Lessie... Well, they had come so far that it would be a great shame to be thwarted now, if I could prevent it.

I found myself starting forward across the sand. Running, even as I told myself not to be a blasted fool. But I didn't listen to myself, and splashed into the warm water and began to swim out to the Night Song. I swam to the stern of the dinghy tied alongside, and carefully heaved myself aboard it rather than the Night Song, since its deck was a bit too high to easily reach, quietly, from the water. From the dinghy I silently climbed into the cockpit and stood, dripping, in the dark shadow under the folded mainsail to consider my next move. I tiptoed to the hatchway, leaving a trail of water behind me. One of the fellows seemed to be talking, low and urgently. He had a lot to say, but said it quietly enough that I caught only snatches of it. Sella responded angrily. And from what I could discern, she was refusing to go along with the program, as proposed. As I suspected, from what I could overhear, they knew each other. As they talked, I had time to think.

I didn't come up with much, except that I needed to see the odds I was up against. I silently climbed to the deck, and carefully peeked into the first cabin porthole.

Sella and Lessie were seated on the far berth and I could make out four men arrayed on the other side of the central table. Neither Sella nor Lessie were bound in any way, which I thought was rather careless of their assailants. Sella was clearly angry and glaring fiercely, while Lessie sat sullenly and silently, watching them with coiled anger in her gaze. Sella might argue, but Lessie would act, given any opportunity.

The leader, I gathered his name was Marn, from what Sella said, turned to one of his men and said something. The fellow nodded and started for the hatch.

Decision time. Vente affair or not, I decided to try to give Sella her choice. I started forward and crouching down below the front of the cabin, waited to see what the fellow was up to. He had apparently been ordered to raise the anchor, since he started forward alongside the cabin. I slipped around the other side and ducked behind the folded jib sail on the top of it, to await his arrival.

Reaching the bow, he bent over to release the steel rod used as the winch lever to haul up the anchor. Setting it into the winch, he began to ratchet the anchor up with his back to me. As the Night Song began to inch closer to its anchor, I darted around the jib in a rush, to give him a shove in the back, with a little lift that carried him clear of the low railing, and into the water with a startled exclamation.

Splashing about in the dark waters, he cursed and called out a warning to his mates.

I lifted the steel lever from the winch, and tapped its cold steel on my palm. It would do. With one in the water, and counting the girls, the odds were now numerically even. I stepped up to the shadows alongside main mast, and, keeping an eye on the fellow in the water, waited to see what happened next. I was content to let his calls bring the rest of them up to the deck – hopefully, one at a time.

However, it seemed that his first cries weren't heard – or not heard clearly enough – in the cabin to spur any action, since nothing happened.

He then tried to pull himself aboard. I darted forward and gently tapped his fingers on the edge of the deck with the rod to discourage the attempt.

With that, he started to swim around the Night Song, making for the rowboat that they came in, which was tied alongside, I hurried around to untie it and hauled it around to the stern, where I could watch it from the cockpit. I couldn't prevent him from climbing aboard the rowboat, but I had my steel rod to discourage him reboarding the Night Song. I slipped into the inky shadow under the mainsail to await further developments, while keeping an eye on him.

I didn't have to wait long. A second fellow popped out of the hatch.

'Is that you, Fen? What's all the blasted fuss about?' he asked – mistaking me, a dark figure in the shadow for his mate.

The fellow in the water – who was probably in the process of climbing aboard the rowboat, called out, 'There's an intruder on board, Ned!'

But by that time Ned already knew this, since I had stepped into the moonlight with my lever raised to strike. 'Join your mate, over the side,' I growled. 'Or I'll help you along with this.'

He hesitated and I swung for his shoulder, just to let him know I meant business. He leaped back against the cabin and ducked, but my blow brushed across his shielding arm. I raised it for another blow. 'Jump! Or get your head bashed in,' I growled again, in my best navy petty officer imitation.

He decided to jump, and quickly clambered up the hatchway and over the side and into the water, but not before calling out 'Look out Marn! Trouble!'.

I took up the call, and yelled down the hatchway 'Intruder aboard, Marn! Help!'

I heard Sella laugh, and then there came the sound of a scuffle.

A moment later I heard someone say, 'You wouldn't do that, would you Sella?'

A flash of light shot out of the hatch and portholes, followed by a sharp crack.

Of course she would.

'Now see, I've put a bullet hole in my poor boat. The next time I'll actually try to put it in you, dear cousin,' laughed Sella. She may've said it with a laugh, but anyone who knew her, would likely know that she wasn't bluffing. 'They're coming up the hatch, Taef. See them over the side, will you?'

I heard Lessie say, 'Give it back to me,' as the first fellow climbed up the hatchway.

I stepped back and directed him to their row boat at the stern. The last fellow emerged, with Sella following him up, holding a small revolver in her hand.

'Neat work, Taef!' she exclaimed, and turning to Lessie, who had emerged behind her added, 'I told you he was worth keeping.'

'Give Lessie the lever,' she said and handing me the revolver added, 'Guard them. Let them sit in their rowboat while Lessie and I get the dinghy on board. Treat them as harbor pirates, and just shoot'em if they try anything. You can shoot harbor pirates out of hand,' she added with a laugh. I was pretty certain that she was just having fun now. But you could shoot pirates out of hand in the islands.

'A friend of Sella?' asked the leader of the gang, who had quietly settled aboard their rowboat.

I didn't think I needed to answer.

Undeterred, he continued, 'I don't think we've met. I'm Marn Mara, Sella and Lessie's cousin. And you are?'

'No one you know,' I replied carefully. I wasn't about to incriminate either myself or the girls by admitting my non-Teraven identity. 'Can I take it that the Captain sent you here to collect your cousins?'

'He sent my father, and my father sent me here,' he replied. And then lowering his voice, he added, 'Uncle Vin, that is to say, the Captain, is far from happy with his granddaughters. He's decided that he can't let them get away with doing whatever they want, on a whim.'

'Rather too late, I gather.'

'Perhaps. Nevertheless, the time has come. I was hoping that I could convince them to come home and face the consequences now, before this whole affair gets entirely out of hand. If you are truly their friend, I hope you will try to convince them to return home.'

'That, I fear, is beyond my powers of persuasion.'

'If we don't bring them back, the Captain has threatened to name my father and his offspring as his successor in line over Sella.'

'Sella wouldn't like that.'

'As well I know, and for that reason alone I don't want to be in line to be the Captain, as I would be, as I am my parent's first born. So I can assure you that it is very important to convince them to come home with us.'

I shook my head. 'No chance of that. But I wouldn't worry over much. This time I gather that the Night Song is their own yacht. They can sail it where they please. And right now, they're sailing away from all the trouble they've made. All in all, that might be for the best. It should allow tempers to cool. I think that perhaps, just letting them go would suit everyone's priorities, including your own, at the moment.'

'That's what they told me. Do you know what they're up to, where they are going?'

'I truly don't know. Does it matter? They do realize that they've burned their boats so to speak, and so they won't be back very soon,' I said, carefully. 'It seems to me to be the best possible solution, at the moment. It saves the Captain a great deal of embarrassment, and gives your cousins time to grow up a little more.'

'I don't like the idea of them sailing alone in the islands. Who are you? And why are you sailing with them?'

'I'm from Casea. (Their mother's home island.) I'm currently aboard more or less on a whim of theirs. Care to volunteer to take my place?'

'If need be. I had hoped that I could convince them to just come home and take their punishment.'

'I gather that didn't float with them.'

'No, it didn't,' he replied with a shrug.

'From what I could see, you used a rather heavy handed approach.'

He laughed. 'Live and learn. We didn't care to end up "an air-brained idiot" like poor ol'Fel. The Captain wasn't happy with him. So we had to take precautions...'

'Ah, yes...'

At this point Sella returned after they had stowed the dinghy on the cabin roof. 'Has cousin Marn convinced you to turn us in? You have the revolver, you know,' she asked as she started the Night Song's engine, adding in a loud voice, 'Whenever we're clear, Lessie.'

'He thinks its your wisest course, Sella.'

'And you?'

'Ah, that's a matter that's above my rank and pay scale.'

She turned to Marn in the boat. 'I'm going to tow you and the boys out to sea for a while. It will give you a good workout rowing back, and time for us to get a good lead on Uncle Derth's steam yacht. You can use all this as an excuse for letting us get away, if you need one. It's a better offer than being shot as harbor pirates.'

'You wouldn't do that.'

'Perhaps not. But I will be very, very cross with you if Uncle Derth ends up hauling us back. Do you want to risk that, cousin?'

'Put that way, no.'

'Right. Then hold on,' she ordered, and then turned to me. 'If you want to sail with us, Taef, you're more than welcome to. If not, now's the time to swim for shore. Your choice.'

'Did Lessie agree to that?'

'Of course she did,' she replied. I'd a feeling the "of course" was a lie.

'Would you rather have Marn here? He said that he'd sail with you if I choose not to.'

'That's sweet of you, Marn, but Cynda would never forgive me for taking you away from her for what will, likely, be years,' Sella said, turning to him in the rowboat. But then turned to me, 'No, it's you, Taef, or we sail alone.' And then she leaned close and added, 'But I want you along.'

And seeing the look of surprise on Marn's face, she added in a whisper, 'Lessie is very fond of him...' and winked.

He gave me a sharp, startled look.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head "No" just a little.

'She is, too,' hissed Sella, as Lessie called out, 'Clear!' from the bow.

'Well it's over the side, or Lessie, Taef,' she said cheerfully as she put the engine into gear and began to swing the Night Song about. I didn't believe Sella for a minute about Lessie, but still, the smart thing to have done would have been to hand Sella the revolver, and dived for shore. But, I didn't, for what I hoped was a good, responsible reason – I didn't want Sella and Lessie sailing the Tropic Sea by themselves. Their sorcery hadn't prevented cousin Marn and the boys from capturing them, and there were far, far worse fellows than Marm to be found almost anywhere in the islands.

We towed Marn and the boys out for a couple of kilometers into the slowly heaving night sea, shimmering under the two moons and stars, before we backed the sails to untie their rowboat to set them on their way back.

'Take your time rowing back, Marn. You don't really want to catch us. That would be ugly. Grandfather wants to be rid of us for a while, and we're obliging him. We won't be back until we're missed. That's a promise.'

'Please, please Sella, don't do anything foolish. Don't take unnecessary chances. Don't press your luck. I have to believe that you've used up a lifetime of it already,' Marn said earnestly.

Of course, she was already likely doing something foolish, taking unnecessary chances, and pressing whatever luck she had left, but she replied, cheerfully, 'I will follow your advise Marn. As I always have.'

He just groaned and shook his head. 'Good luck! Safe voyage!'

'Safe voyage yourself, my love to Cynda,' she replied. 'And Uncle Derth.'

Lessie, standing behind her, added, 'Don't worry. We'll be fine. Tell Grandfather not to worry.'

'Your grandfather made a pretty good guess where to look for you,' I said, after we had once more gotten underway.

'Oh, it was easy enough to have guessed where we were heading,' said Sella, at the tiller. 'And our repairs gave them time to catch up and lay in wait for us. Marn said they kept close watch on the anchorage and the small harbors around Lil Lon where they knew they'd likely find us.

'We can defy Grandfather, but our poor crews cannot. If you get hauled before the Captain you don't spin him tall, unlikely tales, like we do. That was a given. When we, ah, went sailing, we were always careful to flash out our command tokens and wave our forged orders before their eyes – not that Saffe and the crew of the Starsea actually believed them, but it gave them the cover they needed to escape their dreary routine and have some fun. So yes, they told all they knew – but not what they don't know – and we didn't tell them more than they needed to know for exactly that reason.'

'Do you expect to be chased by your Uncle? If he has a steam yacht...'

'We'll alter our course when the Arra sets, but Marn will very likely take his time reporting back, so I actually don't think he'll bother, especially when you consider that he might be the next Captain of Teraven if we don't reconcile with Grandfather...

'Of course, failing to bring us back might not sit well with Grandfather...' she added with a merry laugh. 'Still, I made certain that Marn understood that a very ugly scene would ensue if they did bring us in, while promising to stay clear of Teraven for several years to allow Grandfather's anger wane. And I also promised that we'll have grown up when we return.'

'Spinning tall tales again?'

She smiled. 'Who knows?'

Chapter 10 The Key

01

I stood my usual watch during the moonless hours of the night. Lessie relieved me precisely on time, and set a slightly different course. She had nothing to say to me. My impression was that she had, at best, very reluctantly agreed, but resented my continued presence onboard. I hung around on deck until the eastern horizon was bright enough to see that it was clear of steam yachts before slipping down the hatchway and past the sleeping Sella to the berth in the forecastle.

I slept late. And even after I awoke, I stayed in my berth while I inventoried the ultimate consequences of what I had done. In the new day, it was not a pleasant inventory. I had made some rather hasty decisions that I probably wouldn't have made this morning. Until last evening I could look Captain Char in the eye and say that I had been abducted. And I could justify my cooperation with the Vente on the grounds of collecting intelligence. Last evening I turned a blind eye to duty in the name of friendship – not dishonorable, but it meant that I would need to do some pretty fancy talking to justify abandoning my duty – however menial it was. What could I say? Hopefully I would have an answer to that question by the time I was asked it. Nevertheless, I had the feeling that I was going to pay a steep price, when all was said and done. And so with that gloomy thought, I pulled myself over the low railing and out of the berth on to the sloping deck. Judging from that slope, and the lively action of the Night Song, we had a wind, and Sella was driving her.

'Ah, our hero is finally awake – just in time to prepare the midday meal! What would we have done without you?' exclaimed Sella, her black hair streaming to the lee as I climbed up the hatchway to join the girls in the sunlit cockpit. Lessie, as gloomy as ever, sitting on the windward cowling, may have slightly nodded, or not.

'Good morning, ladies,' I said. 'A beautiful morning.'

'Just barely,' muttered Lessie darkly.

A rather bracing spray of seawater flew past, flung up by the bow of the racing Night Song. Above, the sails were taut with a brisk east wind and driving the yacht along at an exhilarating clip. The sky was cloudless and blue, the sea bluer, and streaked with whitecaps.

'You seem to have her showing her wings today,' I said ignoring Lessie's customary ill temper.

'No tarrying now. We've a treasure to find, don't we sister?' laughed Sella.

Lessie just gave her a scowl, which had no effect on Sella.

'All thanks to the bravery and quick thinking of Taef taking on those four harbor pirates, single-handedly.'

'Which was completely unnecessary,' said Lessie, sharply. 'We could've handled Marn, the boys, and Uncle Derth, by ourselves. We were just waiting until they moved the Night Song to the anchorage. There we could've made such a fuss that Uncle Derth couldn't touch us. He has no authority over us, even if Grandfather had issued warrants for our arrest. In Fey Lon he was nothing but a pirate, and we could've put a bullet in any of them, any time, really, if and when it was needed. We didn't need him at all.'

'Oh, come now, Lessie. That's just idle speculation. He didn't know who it was that had captured us, when he swam out to save us. And even if we could've talked our way to freedom, he saved us from having to make such a fuss that we might never be allowed home again. We owe him a lot. You owe him a lot. You have your golden key again and its treasure ahead, thanks to him.'

Lessie slipped off the cowling, stepped around me and hissed, 'We need to get lunch going.'

Sella watched her climb down the hatch, sadly shaking her head. And then quickly brightening, said, 'Don't mind Lessie. She's has her pride. We both do appreciate what you did for us. And we're both glad that you're along.'

That last was a lie, and we both knew it, so instead I asked, 'Could you have talked your way free last night?'

'Oh, I suppose we could've, though we would've likely had to scream bloody murder to attract the attention of the harbor guard, or at least have shot a few holes into the poor Night Song. But it would have been very unpleasant for everyone, so you spared us all an unfortunate scene.'

'Why didn't you use your revolver to chase them off yourself?'

'I couldn't readily get at it. Marn and his pals were between me and my revolver. He kept a pretty close watch on me. He knows us well. So it was only when you distracted them, that I could lunge and grab the revolver from behind the sewing kit on the shelf behind him with any chance of success.'

'You keep a loaded revolver behind the sewing kit?'

'And another one in the bedding drawer under the port berth, and there's one under the linen in the drawer under the forecastle berth as well,' she replied, brightly. 'Plus those in our arms chest. It's best to be prepared, don't you think?'

A thought crossed my mind – for what? But I decided not to turn over that rock, and said instead, 'Oh, I approve – I think. So what about Lessie's, ah, magic power? The one she used on the Banjas, and Lieutenant Fel? She told me that it only puts them to sleep. So why didn't she use her so called powers on Marn and the boys?'

She leaned close. 'They learned their lesson from poor Carz. They knew what to look for, and took it from her before she could use it.'

'So it's not a magic power?'

'Did you still think it was?'

'Well, no... But what is it?'

'Ask her.'

'And she'll tell me?'

She smiled, 'Maybe, if you are really, really, nice to her.'

'I'm not that curious. Well, I suppose I'd best be getting down and helping her with lunch.'

She smiled broadly, 'Yes, my dear Taef, run along and help her cut the vegetables. That's a good start.' She gave me a knowing wink, and I gave her a halfhearted scowl.

She had collected the vegetables for the noon meal on the saloon's central table and had taken a seat on the windward berth. I collected a knife and took the berth opposite her, and started slicing an onion that had rolled down to the raised edge of the table.

'You know that she's just teasing the both of us, don't you?' Lessie said in a low voice.

I looked at her across the table. 'Yes, I know. But I also know that she loves you and is concerned about you. She wants you to be happy. She thinks someone to love and be loved is what you need. Now, I'm not that one, but I am a friend. We already agreed to that in Teraven. Friends, just as we are.'

She just scowled.

'Don't worry. I'm an easy friend to have. I don't want to change you. I'm content with you and us, just as we are. We'll stand by each other, like it or not.'

She gave me a long look. 'You're just as annoying as is Sella.'

'It must be hard to be so gloomy among cheerful people.'

'There you're wrong. It's easy, because they are so annoying.'

I laughed, 'Then I'll try to be less cheerful when I'm with you. What are friends for?'

'No you won't. You can't.'

'Oh, I could be. I burned a lot of boats staying with you and Sella. I left my family without a word. I suppose if my body doesn't wash up on the beach with its throat cut, they'll assume I went off with you for some reason...' I gave her a wink.

She gave me a scowl.

'And I am now guilty of dereliction of duty after running off with you on my own accord. That could well be a big black mark that I'll have to carry around my whole life. Oh, yes, I could be just as gloomy as you, if I liked being gloomy. But, unlike you, I don't.'

'You should've thought of all that last evening.'

'No truer words have been spoken, Lessie, no truer words.'

02

The following morning saw the dawn of another perfect Tropic Sea day. I had the first afternoon watch, as usual. A pale blue sky arched down to the deep blue horizon in every direction. The sun was bright and hot, the breeze steady and every so often it tossed up spray from the bow wave. Blue-green islands notched the horizon under their crowning cloud. And the sea was speckled with the various colored sails of fishing boats and small traders. The sea, indeed, the world, was wide, small, familiar and yet, always new. And with the new morning, I found my regrets of the previous day gone. That was the island way of life, I guess.

Two days later we called on the island of Gardara for fresh supplies. Sella bought me some clothes, since once again, I had started the journey with only the clothes on my back. And a razor. They made a point about that.

The barometer needle began to fall early in the third day. The fall was nothing alarming, but bore watching. By noon, storm clouds and scattered storms could be seen on the eastern and southern horizons. We sailed on, dodging several showers until late in the afternoon, when there was nothing but storms ahead. So, with a small, low, uninhabited island surrounded by a wide reef close at hand, and a protected cove on its western shore, we altered course for it. Taking in the sails, we crept along the edge of the whitewater reef until we came upon a break and slipped into the lagoon. We anchored in three meters of crystal clear water in a small bay surrounded by a wide, white beach, which happily, was entirely lacking reef dragons.

'It must be a popular island picnic spot,' said Sella, pointing to several fire pits in the sand among the scattered stands of the elegant batto trees. 'Shall we? We look to have a few hours before the storms will reach us.'

'Sounds like a plan,' I said.

Lessie nodded.

We launched the dinghy and loaded it with a pot, wok, kaf pot and two holstered revolvers, just to be safe. That done, the girls dived into the water, clear enough that they looked to be flying over the sand and coral bottom. And, oh so slim, and graceful. And they were even more so when they stood on the beach and Sella waved me in. I wondered, and not for the first time, if I was really, really lucky – or really, really unlucky.

I rowed the dinghy to shore, and after unloading it, the girls went to collect some island greens and vegetables that we noted were growing, semi-wild, beyond the beach. No doubt they had been planted many generations ago by fishermen and picnickers – a common practice in the islands. I slung a canvas bag on a strap over my shoulder, and waded out to the rocky point to see if I could net some blue shellfish – my customary task for our family picnics. I was a bit out of practice, but managed to net half a dozen – enough.

We built a fire, stir fried the vegetables, boiled the shellfish, and brewed a pot of kaf. It was a jolly picnic, at least for Sella and I. Even Lessie may have enjoyed it. She was, if not quite jolly, quite mellow, for her. She said nothing more than what was necessary to me, but bantered with dry, but not bitter, humor with her sister, something she rarely did in my company.

After we ate, we lounged in the shade under a stand of batto trees, not saying much while watching the storm line roll in to the south. It featured five slender waterspouts that skipped and danced over the water with elegant abandon. But soon after that, the first of the dark storm clouds started streaming over our heads, and with them, the low rumble of thunder. We gathered our gear and rowed back to the Night Song, arriving alongside just as the first, big, warm drops of rain began to plash down on the deck. I hastily secured the dinghy astern as the wind rose and scrambled down the hatchway into the saloon just ahead of the first flash and crack of lightning.

The girls had lit the lanterns, and so we settled into the small, hot saloon as the day quickly darkened into a gloomy twilight, while the Night Song bounced and tugged at its anchor.

Over the steady drumbeat of rain on the cabin roof, Lessie sighed and said, 'I suppose this is as good of a time as any to lay out where we are going.'

'It's about time, sister,' said Sella.

'Reach behind you, Lang, and bring down the No. 8 chart envelope,' Lessie directed.

Not good. But not a complete surprise either. I turned and searched for the waxed canvas envelope in the racks above the berth that contained the charts for that south central section of the Tropic Seas. I'd drawn a line from Teravena to the point where the Island Crown found the survivors of the Sealight and then extended it further. It took me into the No. 8 section of the Tropic Seas – the section just north of the Central Sea between the two continents. A section of the Tropic Sea where the proxy conflict between the two continents was at its hottest.

I set the waxed envelope on the table, undid the flap and slipped the charts out.

Lessie, without glancing at the large scale index map, said, 'Find chart 17.'

No, not good at all. From my two years in Section 3, I knew that chart 17 would be somewhere in the central Five Island Sea that lay between five of the largest islands of the Tropic Sea, each with their own rival island empires. These five empires were frequently at odds, a condition that the two continents were happy to exploit for their own ends. So, as a result, the islands in the Five Island Sea changed ownership regularly. When I left the Admiralty, four of the five islands were engaged in a wide ranging war of raids and island invasions.

I pulled out chart 17, and unfolded it on the table as Lessie stood, and drawing out the gold cylinder from under her blouse, turned away, so neither Sella nor I could see how she opened it. Turning back, she drew out a thin rod wrapped in a tightly rolled piece of paper – or rather the untearable sheet that the Founders used as paper.

'This, I believe, is a Founder's key,' she began, laying the thin golden rod down in the pool of lamp light. 'The paper wrapped around it is a map,' she continued, rolling out the thin sheet. Sella and I placed our fingers on its corners to keep it from rolling up as Lessie pointed out its chief characteristics.

'As you can see, it is a printed map with some handwritten instructions along the side. I assume that all the lines and numbers are related to how the Founders mapped the world. Since the coordinates are meaningless to us, I had to spend many months going over every chart of the Tropic Seas to find a cluster of islands that exactly matched the Founder's map. The insert, as you can see, is a topographical map of one of the islands. The small circle is labeled "Redoubt Facility." The line from the cove to it is hand drawn. The writing alongside it is brief directions on following the course the line traces. Based on the map and written directions, the Redoubt Facility is located in an old crater of the main volcanic peak of the island. One can only hope that they chose their location more wisely than they did for City One, and that it has not erupted since they established it.'

Not a foregone conclusion. The Founders appeared to have underestimated the frequency and intensity of the world's volcanoes – to a nearly fatal degree – as we, the distant children of the surviving Founders know so well.

'Are you aware that there is, in the southern continents, an ancient legend concerning a so-called "Last Redoubt of the Founders?" It is said to have been located in numerous locales, some of which are also legends. It is now thought to be the wishful thinking of the survivors after the Great Wave and the destruction of City One. This would seem to indicate that there may indeed be a volcano under the column of smoke, so to speak.'

Lessie nodded. 'We have a tradition of being "Guardians of the Redoubt," though the term has lost any meaning. Until now, with the golden key.'

'Did Zar Lada, Boy Explorer...' began Sella.

'Island Explorer,' I corrected her, playing our game.

'Ever discover the Redoubt of the Founders?' she continued.

'As a matter of fact, yes he did, in "Zar Lada and the Island of the Redoubt."'

'Do you happened to know where young Zar found his Redoubt Island?'

I gave Sella a stern look. 'It has been some time since I read the Zar Lada books...'

'Last year?'

'It's been many years.'

'Ah, huh. So you say. What did ol'Zar, the boy explorer, find on the Island of Redoubt?'

'I believe that was the story where he found one of the Founder's smaller space ships and other marvelous Founder machines, but, alas, he only discovered it just a few days before the entire island was destroyed in a volcanic eruption. Zar was lucky to escape with his life and the legendary Founding Stone of Terra that all the Terra ships carry with them to the stars.'

'Oh, my! Let's hope we're luckier than your intrepid boy explorer.'

'If you two are not going to take this seriously...' snapped Lessie, reaching for the little map. 'You can drop me off on one of the larger Islands and I'll make my own way there.'

'Sorry, my fault, Sis,' said Sella laying a hand on Lessie's arm. 'I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease Taef. He's so much like Zar Lada, brave, daring, honorable, youthful...' And faltering before Lessie exasperated gaze, continued, 'Oh, alright, please continue. Where is your Redoubt Island?'

Lessie leaned over the table and pointed. 'Here is the island group, a little less than 300 kilometers west of the island of Jalora.'

She had her finger resting nearly in the center of the Five Island Sea.

I stood to better study the chart. I could see many familiar names.

'You're frowning, Taef,' said Sella.

'Sorry. But you see, I'm very familiar with the Five Island Seas and its islands. Not that I've ever visited them, but I probably spent half of my time during the last two years in the Admiralty reading, compiling, condensing, and filing field reports from these islands. Currently there's a large scale war going on between Jalora and Lin Mora on one side, fueled by Feldara, and Nara Bin and Si Darta on the other, backed by Aerlonia. Cay Car, the largest of the Five Islands, here, in the north, is sitting this one out, or was, when I left the Admiralty. Raids and invasions are constantly crisscrossing that section of the Five Island Sea.'

'Islanders are always raiding and warring,' said Lessie with a dismissive sniff. 'I don't see how that matters to us. The island group we're concerned with is a very small, unimportant one. Only the largest one, Bar Cor, appears to have any sort of population to speak of. The island on this map is not only uninhabited, but is said to be cursed.'

As indeed, it was printed in red, with the notation that indicated that it was held locally to be cursed or haunted.

'Humm, Could it be cursed because of ancient ruins?' I mused.

'So you're saying that it is already known.'

'Probably not. Since these islands are so close to both continents, they have been extensively explored by archaeologists for a hundred years. I have to believe that every red island in this group would have drawn the interest of at least one archaeologist at some point during the last century. And I can assure you, if the ruins were identified as Founders', I would be familiar with them from my studies.'

'Zar Lada,' whispered Sella.

'Four years of studying archaeology at Layfarm,' I replied.

'The islanders would never have a reason to climb to the top of such a steep peak. So it is unlikely that the curse has anything at all to do with the Redoubt Facility. So we can expect two sets of ruins; one native which is known, and the other, the Redoubt, yet undiscovered, at its peak,' snapped Lessie.

'It may be cursed for other reasons. In any event, I don't think the Redoubt Facility is the reason it is cursed,' I admitted. Of course, you could have the wrong island, but I didn't care to mention that. There was only one way to find out.

'My main concern, however, is getting there safely,' I continued. 'There is a great deal of back and forth raiding going on, as well as some large scale invasions, and even fleet battles. From the look of it, I doubt that Bar Cor would be worth raiding or invading. However, it is in the path of those raids and invasions. And more to the point, all the island Principalities have issued privateer licenses to anyone who wants one. And knowing the islanders, any shipowner open to the idea of an occasional spot of piracy, has doubled their crews, purchased a license, or has decided not to bother with one. In short, there are no would-be-pirates in the Five Island Sea – there's nothing would-be about them these days. And with few, if any actual traders plying the Five Island Sea to capture, even a little yacht like the Night Song might be worth their effort to capture a crew to sell to the plantation owners.'

'So you're saying we should just give up?' Lessie sneered.

'I'm suggesting that a treasure that has remained hidden for more than 4,000 years can wait for the war to die down, as it will, sooner or later.'

'And how long is sooner or later?'

'They've been going at it hot and heavy for almost two years with nothing much to show for it. I'd say they'll call a truce within a year or so.'

'War or no war, I rather doubt that there will be fewer pirates anytime soon,' said Lessie.

Which was probably true. I shrugged, 'It is yours and Sella's decision. I just thought I should mention the situation as I know it.'

'Sella?' Lessie turned to her sister.

'We can't make any final plans here. Let's sail on and see what our prospects are. You said that Cay Cara was sitting this war out?'

'It was, at least when I left the Admiralty.'

'Any objections to putting into one of it ports to get a feel for what's going on in the Five Island Sea?'

'I think that would be wise. I suggest that we make for Dela Dare. It is a sizable city and port on Cay Cara's western tip. Once there, modesty aside, I think I can get a feel for our prospects, since my job for the navy was acquiring useful information from island traders. Plus, we'll need to equip ourselves with suitable clothing and gear if we have to cut our way through jungle and scale a volcanic peak. You don't want to tackle an expedition like that in shorts and sandals.'

'Right. Sounds like a plan. Lessie?'

She nodded, and collected her map and key.

'Right, let's chart a course for Dela Dare. We should be there in, what? Nine or ten days if our luck holds out.'

It didn't.

Chapter 11 Chase and Rescue

01

Five days later found me climbing up the hatchway carefully, nursing a mug half filled with kaf after my midday meal, to relieve Sella at the tiller. The Night Song was bounding along, tossing spray across the deck as it plunged through the choppy seas. But the brisk breeze was warm and the sun was hot, so the spray was welcome. I glanced up at the sails, angled off to the lee with the breeze on the beam and stepped across the slanting deck to stand next to Sella.

'Your lunch is hot and waiting for you. I have the watch.'

She smiled, and recited our course bearing and started to point out the visible islands and their positions on the chart, when she stopped and said, "Oh-oh...'

Not four kilometers ahead, off the port bow – to the windward – was a small jungle green island, and just slipping out from behind that island, were three rusty red sails, which, when we were on the crest of the wave, were attached to a long, low, black hulled ship with a white bow wave.

'That doesn't look good,' she muttered, as she studied the black hulled ship and its course, as each wave brought it into full view.

'Should I get the glasses?' I asked, setting my mug of kaf in a gimbal holder.

'Have Lessie bring them up. I have a feeling that we had better assume the worst. We're going to need to turn and run.'

I stepped over to thehatchway and called down to Lessie to bring up the glasses.

She shot up out of the hatch, quick enough, perhaps guessing what the request implied. And then, as Sella pointed ahead, she studied the ship without a word for half a minute.

She turned back with an even grimmer look than usual and said, 'It has too large a crew to be a trader.'

Sella nodded. 'Thought as much. Well, let's go about. We'll make them work to catch us, if they can.'

Lessie hurried forward to handle the jib, while I lowered the small mizzen. With that done, Sella called out 'Helm up!' and swung the Night Song to the lee while I hauled the main sail around, first to catch the now trailing wind, and then further around to set it on the opposite track. Sella was taking no chances, we were reversing our course and fleeing. With the mainsail set, I once more raised and set the mizzen and took up the glasses to see how the black hulled ship responded. I didn't get more than a glimpse of the large cannon it carried on the deck between the fore and main mast before it had altered its course to follow us. But even if I hadn't seen it, I could've guessed the business of the ship. It was a ship built for speed, with a low black hull, three tall sails, and a crew that lined the windward bulwarks watching us. A trader might have only half a dozen men. This one had several dozen. It was soon bow on, and the chase was on.

Sella started our engine and the Night Song skipped ahead a little faster. We were going to need all the speed we could muster.

'Do you want me to relieve you?' I said, handing the glasses to Lessie.

Sella, still staring back, shook her head. 'I think I'd best keep the helm.'

I didn't argue. She knew the Night Song better than I, and I was certain that she could get the most out of her. I'd a feeling that we'd need the most out of her. 'I'll bring up your meal, then.'

She gave me a quick smile, and turned back again to watch the rust red sails just seen over the rolling waves, astern.

She ate at the tiller, and every so often Lessie and I would trim the sails ever so slightly as Sella sought to get the most out of the wind and the Night Song.

At first it seemed that we were keeping our lead, or even pulling ahead, but as the afternoon wore on, the black hulled ship grew larger, as its greater size and sail spread gave it an advantage in the stiff breeze and short choppy seas.

Lessie relieved Sella for her mid afternoon watch, and I continued to act as the crew. Sella drew out the charts and began to study our options. Taken at sea, we'd face not only the loss of the Night Song, but likely indentured servitude on some island plantation. In other words, we'd be sold as slaves. The price we'd fetch made chasing us worthwhile. Given that, a better option would be finding an inhabited island and taking to the jungle. As long as it was inhabited, we could eventually buy our passage off of it, assuming we could escape the pursuing crew. But we'd loose the Night Song.

'That island just off the starboard bow,' she pointed to a hazy green island, some ten kilometers away, 'Is actually two islands with a narrow channel between them. The chart shows a shallow bar linking the two islands on both side ends without any marked passage. We can probably slip over them, but they can't. Once inside the outer lagoon, the passage narrows, but there's probably enough water to get to the other side with our engine. If we can sail through the passage, we'd force them to sail around the island if they cared to continue the chase. But that would give us a good seven or eight kilometers lead. They'd be unlikely to catch us before night.'

'And if we can't cross one or both bars?'

'We'll just have to abandon the Night Song and take to the jungle. Anyone have a better idea?'

Lessie and I shook our heads no.

'Then alter our course for the islands, Lessie. Taef and I will go below and gather our gear and arms so that we'll be ready for whatever...'

Lessie nodded, and I followed Sella below and was directed to pack a roll-pack of food as she shoved hers and Lellie's clothes into another. With that done, Sella knelt and lifted up the floor boards to get to the iron ballast. She removed a few heavy plates, and reaching in, pulled out a small, wet, canvas bag that chinked. 'Our treasury. Here, shove this in with the food. And make sure you don't forget and leave it behind when things get exciting. We'll need both.'

As I shoved the cold, damp, and delightfully heavy bag into the roll-pack, Sella went over and unlocked the arms locker. She handed me two holstered revolvers and two boxes of ammunition. Adding, with a smile, as I strapped one of the belts on, 'One of those revolvers is for Lessie, Zar.'

'Oh,' I said with mock sadness.

She then handed me a sheathed machete, 'For chopping through jungles or pirates.' And, finally, one of the carbine from the locker.

'It uses the same bullets as our revolvers. I intend to make them pay,' she added grimly.

'How's your sorcery?' I asked innocently.

'There is that too. But it has a limit. If bullets will do, we'll stick with bullets.'

She then went over to the engine compartment behind the hatch stairs and opening the door to the hot, oil scented compartment, she pointed to the seacock that would let the seawater into the boat.

'If we have to take to the island, we'll want to scuttle the Night Song to keep them from running off with it. One of us will need to open the cock. If it's you, be sure to unhook the cap and take it along. We wouldn't want to make it easy for them.'

'Right,' I nodded, as we shouldered our roll-packs and climbed back up and into the breeze and brightness, carrying our gear and arms.

I had the tiller while Lessie buckled on her revolver when I heard a boom. Looking back, I saw that the pirate had altered course a bit and a puff of smoke streaming back from its cannon that the course alteration had allowed to bear on us. A second or two later, a geyser of water erupted well astern of us as the sell exploded.

'They must be trying to frighten us,' laughed Sella. 'They'd better be careful. They'd have nothing left to plunder if they actually hit us! '

'Very careful,' I said, with grim smile. Still, hitting a small boat like the Night Song from that distance in this choppy sea would take a great deal of luck – probably bad luck for both them, and us. They may've hoped, as Sella suggested, to frighten us into giving up, as they probably had already realized what we planned to do, after noting our change of course.

I gauged the distance between us. It had closed to less than a kilometer. With still four or five kilometers to go, maybe twenty minutes, we might be in small arms range before we reached the islands. However, they'd never be able to board us before we reached the reef. They had, however, rigged their long boat over the side on its davit, so they were clearly planning to continue the chase, no matter what we did.

With the island looming ever closer, there was another boom and another geyser, this time off to port, but not far behind us. And then, five minutes later, another shot, this time still off line, but landing well ahead of us. I also heard the faint crack of rifle fire. That was likely more expressions of gleeful anticipation, or rather frustration, as they likely realized that we would cross the bar before they could come alongside, unless something untold happened.

'Taef, would you go down and get set to lift the keel on my word. We'll never clear the bar with it down.'

'Aye, aye,' I said and headed down, my machete clanking down the steep steps as I made my way down. I tipped the table over on its hinge to get at the crank that would lift up the knife keel the Night Song used in place of the more common outriggers and double hulls many of the smaller island boats preferred. And then, I waited.

The thump of another shell sounded rather loud against the hull, but I had no idea if it was close or just a phenomena of the water.

'Are you ready, Taef?' Sella called down.

'At your word.'

'Soon....'

A minute or two later I heard the clatter of the mainsail coming down, fast, and Sella calling out 'Lift the keel!'

I frantically cranked to get it up only seconds before I felt the Night Song shutter and slow suddenly as it scraped onto the sand bar. Still, its momentum and the waves continued to drive it forward. Behind me, the engine roared in its compartment. Even so, the boat continued to grind slowly to a stop. And for a moment, it seemed like we came to a complete stop. But then, a few heartbeats later, a wave pushed us clear enough for the engine to drive us forward again and we were gliding into the lagoon beyond.

I climbed up to the top of the hatchway. The pirate had backed his sails on the far side of the bar to come to a rest, even as they were frantically lowering its longboat.

'I have a feeling that they know this island better than we do, since they're coming after us,' remarked Sella, standing against the cabin next to me and looking back. 'Nothing to be done about that now. Steer for the passage, Lessie. We'll see to where and what it leads.'

We motored across the clear blue green lagoon towards the dark channel between the two steep banked, jungle clad islands. The water got shallower as we entered the passage between the two islands. Their jungles grew down to the shores, with the nanagrove trees marching out into the water on their tangle of roots. The further we motored into the blue green channel, the narrower the passage became and the higher the hills that bordered it. Colorful birds darted between the arching branches overhead, and the heat, now that we were out of the breeze, grew more oppressive. The passage continued to narrow and becoming so shallow that we seemed to be just floating on air rather than water a few centimeters above the sand and bits of coral. Great rocks now rose out of the jungle on either side, creating a series of cliffs, ten to twenty meters high, surrounded by tall nanagrove trees and vines that arched overhead.

The passage twisted ever so slightly to open up a view of its far side. It widened beyond the bend and turned into a wide, white sand beach stretching from one side to the other. There may be a little sheen of water over the beach at high tide, but now it was dry sand. A large tribe of reef dragons were sunbathing on it.

Sella sighed, 'Well, it was worth a try. Let's put ashore – there between those two rocky outcroppings where we can climb to the top of the cliffs. They'll have to brave our fire from above to get at the Night Song, or drive us off, which will take some doing.'

Silently, Lessie pushed the tiller around and the boat swung towards the larger island's shore. She killed the engine and we gently nosed into a tangle of nanagrove tree roots. Looking back, we could see a pirate crew was climbing over the side of their ship and into the long boat. We wouldn't have much time to prepare for them.

As the boat ground into the sand, Sella said to me, as she reached for her pack and slung one of the carbines over her shoulder, 'This will have to do. Go down and open the seacock and bring the cap up with you – and don't lose it.'

I quickly climbed down and unscrewed the cap, releasing a geyser of water. I unhooked the cap and slipped it into the pants pocket that didn't have the box of ammunition.

By the time I climbed back up to the cockpit, Lessie had the gear roll-pack slung over her shoulder, carbine in hand. She was watching Sella with her belted holster and carbine held high, wading across the channel – the deepest part being only waist high at this point. The reef dragons were watching her as well, but they were still a good ways off and didn't seem inclined to stir. As I have said, there seems to be a sort of unwritten understanding between humans and reef dragons. We leave each other alone. Mostly.

As soon as Sella reached the far shore and started climbing up into the jungle, Lessie started off, saying without turning back, 'Drop the anchor and let's go.'

I shouldered the heavy food and treasury roll-pack, made my way forward to release the anchor and then climbed into the tangle of exposed nanagrove roots to reach the steep slope itself. Lessie had already started up the slope, so I followed behind her, climbing the steep rocky ravine between the trees, at times hauling myself up on my hands and knees to reach the top of the rock cliff overlooking the Night Song.

'Stay here and guard the boat,' she ordered, and set out along the edge of the cliff. She and Sella clearly meant to ambush the pirates as short of the Night Song as time and terrain allowed.

'Do you want the machete?' I called out, but she ignored me. Apparently I had nothing to do but wait and see how things evolved.

I found a spot that allowed me to fire down at the boat with a nice rock for cover, set the heavy roll-pack down and waited for the quiet beauty of the spot to be marred by gunfire and blood. It was a very beautiful spot. Below me, the channel with its crystal clear water and sandy bottom, tinted ever so slightly blue, lay like a pane of glass between the two islands. The lush, steep jungle slopes arched over the channel. Birds fluttered between them, bugs buzzed, flower to flower, through the foliage, while the reef dragons, on the bright white beach, barked a few lazy comments, and dozed peacefully.

Looking outwards, I saw that the pirates' launch had crossed the bar and pressed on. I counted a crew of twelve; eight at the oars, one rifle armed pirate forward and two aft, plus one fellow manning the tiller. They were all armed with revolvers and swords as well. As the Night Song came into view, the oarsmen paused, at a command from the officer at the stern, who studied the yacht, and then, the jungle around them. As well they should, since two sharp shots broke the warm lush silence, sending a flock of birds screeching and fluttering overhead. The reef dragons turned and raised their heads to watch.

'Those were warning shots. Turn back. The next shots won't miss,' called Sella, unseen, from the jungle across the way.

The pirates responded with a three gun volley into the jungle towards the sound of her voice. It was not a particularly wise reply, since the next shots were Sella's and Lessie's carbines that dropped the pirate in the bow with a moan.

More sharp cracks rapidly followed, bringing curses, moans and confusion as the launch drifted to an uncertain stop in the middle of the channel, still thirty meters from the Night Song, and still out of my range, armed as I was, with only a revolver. Sella and Lessie, having emptied their six shot chambers into the boat, paused to reload. Silence, save for the protesting birds and the moans and curses of the pirates, returned to the passage. It gave the pirates time to make a decision, to either press on or retreat. In my naval orientation I was taught that tackling shore batteries from ships was almost never a wise decision. I believed that the pirates had now learned that lesson, the hard way. Those that could, took to their oars and swung the boat around and pulled back towards their ship, followed by a few shots to encourage them.

The battle, however, was not over. Spying their retreating mates, the pirates decided to bring their big gun into play. From my position, the pirate ship, beyond the bar, was just in view between the cliffs and jungle. As soon as their mates made it back to the lagoon I saw a puff of smoke and heard the boom from their amidship cannon. I instinctively ducked behind my rock to await the explosion – which took place somewhere in the jungle above and beyond me. Still, it was close enough for some dirt and light debris to rain down on me through the foliage overhead.

This caught the attention of the reef dragons who decided, as one, to be somewhere else, and scurried with remarkable rapidity, into the lagoon on their side of the island.

Another boom and another explosion, this time lower, and ahead of me. A great tree swayed and fell with a crash, closer than I would've liked. That encouraged me to find a slightly more sheltered position. Glancing around, I found a narrow, rock lined crevasse behind me. Grabbing the precious roll-pack, I took my cue from the reef dragons and did some scurrying myself. I dropped into the crevasse, turned and called out, 'Lessie! I've found some good cover! Hurry up before they can fire again!'

Either she was too far away, or had cover of her own, since she didn't bother to reply before the next boom had me ducking. I could hear it crashing into the jungle ahead. This one may have landed close enough to Lessie for her to decide to take up my offer. She came running, half crouched, in my direction less than a minute later. I called out, and waved when I saw her. She altered course and dropped into the narrow crevasse beside me, panting. We sat down side by side and waited for the next round.

'What exactly do you think they hope to accomplish?' she muttered between breaths. 'They surely don't intend to level the jungle to recover a little yacht.'

'Maybe they intend to sink it out of spite.'

'Well, if they're trying to hit it, we won't have to worry about that.'

There was another boom, and a subsequent explosion – somewhere in the jungle. Leaves fluttered down around us. And then another, fainter boom, followed by a fainter explosion – from somewhere else. We waited, and when no further shot was fired, we exchanged puzzled glances, and stood up to peek over the top to see what was going on.

The pirates' launch had reached the ship, and its crew, those that could, were climbing up the hull, even as the ship's crew were hauling the sails around in order to get underway. As we watched, we heard another faint boom followed by a large geyser of water on the far side of the pirate ship as a shell exploded.

'Help appears to be on the way,' I muttered. 'But who?'

'Probably just a bigger pirate,' replied Lessie, being Lessie.

02

'Lessie, Taef! Are you two alright?' called out Sella from across the way. She stood on the top of one of the rock outcroppings where the channel narrowed.

'We're fine,' I replied, as we walked to the edge of the cliff. 'Can you see what's going on?'

'They're running, but I can't see from whom. Too far down the coast. We should probably stay put until we know what's going on. I'll see if I can get a better view.' And with that she disappeared into the jungle to make her way closer to the outer lagoon.

'A bigger pirate,' muttered Lessie beside me, again.

Ten minutes later Sella was back on the rocks. 'It looks to be a naval warship, though of what navy I can't tell. They're lowering a boat as well. Would you care to meet them aboard the Night Song, Taef? Lessie and I can cover you.'

'My pleasure. We should have nothing to fear. Do you want me to screw the cap back on the seacock?'

'You might as well. Then see who they are and what they want. Call us down if you think it's wise.'

'Right,' I called back and then turning to Lessie, 'We'd best keep my roll-pack up here, as it has your treasury, as well as our food in it. And I might as well appear nice and harmless. You can cover me,' I added unbuckling my gun belt and handing it to her.

She took it without a word and I started back down the steep slope to the boat, and made my way through the roots to the boat.

Water was ankle deep when I stepped down into the cabin. I had to kneel to screw on the cap to the seacock and considered starting the engine to get the pumps running, but decided that might be premature. Though I hoped not. I returned to the deck and made myself busy hauling the hastily dropped mainsail onto its rack above the cabin, while I waited for the arrival of the naval launch. Given the naval activity in the Five Islands region, it could be just about any navy – Aerlonian, Feldarian, or Clay Carian. In any case, I didn't think we would have anything to fear from them.

I was just finishing up straightening up the mainsail when the sound of "put-put-put" could be heard. I turned and saw a small launch manned by six uniformed sailors swing into view. On seeing the Night Song and me, the officer, standing at the stern of the launch waved. A good sign. I waved back.

They sported the light powder blue uniforms of the Feldara Union Navy, our opponent – once removed. We were, of course, at peace with Feldara and even if I flashed the thin, shiny tin Aerlonian Navy identification card in its leather sleeve that I carried in my inner pocket, we'd have greeted each other with professional courtesy. But I had no intention of flashing, or even mentioning my somewhat iffy employer to our rescuers. I'd be just an islander, which, given my circumstances, was probably closer to the truth than being a lieutenant, LT, in the good'ol Aerlonian navy.

'Hello, Hello!' called out the cheerful officer in the stern as the launch approached, adding with a laugh, 'The navy to the rescue!'

'And much appreciated,' I replied, catching the line one of the sailors tossed to me as the cheerful officer killed the launch's engine and skillfully swung the boat alongside.

'Permission to come on board?' he asked, as I tied up the launch to the low railing.

'By all means.'

Though a rather round man of middle age, he boarded with a quick, spry leap over the low railing. 'Tal Mey, first officer of the Tropic, Feldara Union Navy,' he said with a smile, extending his hand. He had the Feldara gold insignia of a commander on his shoulder patch.

'Taef Lang, crew of the Night Song,' I replied, shaking his offered hand. 'Welcome aboard, Commander Mey. And thanks for coming to our rescue.'

He gave me the slightest sharp look before he laughed, 'Well judging from the cannon fire and the number of chaps who were unable to make it aboard what looked to be a Nara Bin raider, you didn't need much rescuing.'

I realized once more that I'd never be a good spy. As an islander, I probably shouldn't have been knowledgeable enough about Feldarian naval insignia to know that he was a commander.

'I wouldn't say that. We did manage to discourage their landing party but there was nothing we could do about their cannon fire. I don't know what they were aiming to do, or at what, but I'm sure glad you showed up to chase them off.'

'Alas, that's all we could do. This is Cay Cara territory and their navy reserves the right to police it without our help. As I said, while it certainly looked to be a Nara Bin ship, which shouldn't be in these waters, if it had been a Cay Carian of some sort and we had sunk it, well, there'd be a great deal of paperwork and explaining to do. Better just to chase them off than sink the wrong ship.'

'No harm done. It is, after all, the way of the islands, unfortunately.'

'So it is. Can we be of any assistance? Is your boat damaged?'

'Scuttled. It can be pumped out. Thanks, but we'll be fine.'

'Ah, yes, "we." I take it that we're being watched and covered?'

'Just as a precaution. I guess I can call the owners down.' And with that I waved and called out, 'The Feldarain navy to the rescue. You can come on down!' my voice echoing between the rocky outcroppings.

Lessie arrived first, looking very much like a pirate with the two gun belts and the machete belted over her hips and the carbine slung over one shoulder with one of the roll-sacks on the other shoulder and second one in hand. And despite her youth and sandy white hair, she looked dangerous enough to be a pirate herself.

'Lessie Raah, Tal Mey,' I said by way of introduction.

'Delighted to meet you Lady Raah,' Mey said with a smile and a little bow.

She nodded, 'Mey.'

He laughed, 'Clearly that pirate miscalculated. This little boat has a lot of barbs.'

'One of these gun belts is Lang's' she snapped. 'But we do have barbs.'

Luckily, at this point, Sella appeared on the opposite shore and called out cheerfully, 'The navy to the rescue!' and raising her firearms began to wade across.

'We can bring you across in the launch, my lady!' exclaimed Mey after giving me a quick appraising look.

'Too late now. Besides I'm still wet from wading across in the first place,' she called out gaily.

I glanced to the beach, but the reef dragons had yet to return. I took her carbine and gun belt as she waded along side and both Mey and I offered her a hand, but she climbed with graceful abandon and stood dripping on the deck, perfectly at ease.

'Sella Raah,' I said, 'Commander Tal Mey, Feldara Union Navy.'

She smiled and took his hand, 'I was so very glad to see you. I was afraid that my sister and her friend, Taef, would get hurt by all those cannon shells that pirate was lobbing at them. It is too bad you missed them.'

'Alas, diplomacy required that I miss. Island politics is too intricate to risk sinking a possible prince's nephew's privateer.'

'No matter. You sent him running.'

He nodded, and then looking about, said, 'Forgive my curiosity, but what brings you to these seas? Your single hulled yacht is quite unusual for these islands. The local craft are almost all double or triple hulled. You're not from the Five Islands, are you?'

'Oh, no. My sister and I are taking a grand tour of the Tropic Sea,' she laughed, and then leaned closer to him and said in a confidential tone, 'We had a little falling out with Grandfather and decided to take a long cruise to allow tempers to cool.' And gave him a wink.

He chuckled, and asked where about in the Tropic Sea we hailed from.

'Oh, from the northern islands,' she replied.

'Would that be the Nar Dars, or the Resadoras? asked Mey as he continued his subtle interrogation, with Sella just as deftly deflecting each little query, along the lines of:

Naming a no doubt fictional island that he admitted he hadn't heard of.

Was she aware that there was a war raging in the Five Islands?

No, but no matter. There are always wars going on in the islands.

Still, it brings out lots of pirates and privateers. These aren't the best cruising waters.

Well, yes. We've just discovered that (laughingly). But pirates are always a small risk anywhere in the islands. If you want to sail them, the little risk has to be run. We got a little unlucky, and yet here we are, safe and sound, after all, aren't we?

Where are we bound for? Oh, we are planning to call on Dela Dare. I heard that it is almost like a continental city and has lots of shops with continental goods.

Why that's wonderful! We must certainly get together when we're both in port.

Escort us? Do you think that necessary?

I would advise it. He hasn't run off all that far. You don't want to risk him swooping back.

Perhaps you are right. I can't imagine he's too happy about how things turned out. Pirates have their pride. And well, I would imagine cannon shells don't grow on batta trees. We'll be ready to sail within half an hour or less, once Taef here gets the engine running and pump going...

I took that as my orders, and left Sella to continue to banter with Mey while Lessie stood by and scowled, to start the engine and get the bilge pump working.

'He's not!' I heard Lessie exclaim when I returned to the deck. It was not hard to guess what Sella had said to spark that remark.

It didn't take more than 15 minutes to pump enough water out of the boat to float it once more. And with that, Commander Mey, and his crew, left for the Tropic, which proved to be a rather old fashioned steel steam frigate that still carried three masts with large batten sails. While it looked to be an older ship, I suspected it carried the sails to extend its cruising range. Coal was sometimes hard to find in the islands, especially if you happened to be sailing beyond the range of allied islands. It looked to mount two 15 cm cannons fore and aft and likely an 8 cm cannon amidships on each side.

Later that evening, with the lights of Tropic ahead of us, Lessie and I kept Sella company at the tiller.

'Commander Mey seemed a very delightful fellow, don't you think, Taef?'

'Yes, very delightful, though he seemed to have a lot of questions.'

'Oh, I'm sure he was just making polite conversation,' Sella replied with a laugh, but neither of us believed that.

'And you were having fun answering all of them without really answering any of them.'

'I was being discreet.'

'And more than a little mysterious,' I added.

She flashed me a smile. 'Me? Mysterious? Why I'm as open and free as an island breeze. It's Lessie who's silent and mysterious.'

Lessie sniffed, but remained silent, and mysterious.

'Well, just a friendly suggestion. Lieutenants are the usual watch officers of a warship of that size. The fact that he's a commander suggests that he may have other duties. Whether or not finding all he can about us, and what we're doing sailing in these Tropic Islands in a 12 meter yacht, would fall under his other duties, or not, I couldn't say. But I suspect it may.'

'You're saying he's another sneaky political officer, just like you.'

'Only likely far more competent,' I admitted.

Lessie sniffed again. This time, I think, in agreement.

Chapter 12 Dela Dare

01

We made Dela Dare in the deepening twilight three days later. We had sailed the pirate out of sight, by the first evening, and the Tropic had sailed on head, with a goodbye wave from Mey, during the evening of the second day.

As we glided into the bay, shimmering with the lights of the city at its far end, along with the lanterns of the modern freighters and passenger ships at anchor. The Tropic lay at anchor with the other warships off the navy pier. We sailed past it to drop anchor among the smaller island traders nearer the city. The familiar smell of the sea, the shore, and dinner hung over the harbor. Having grown up over the anchorage at Fey Lon, it was a comforting smell. A safe harbor.

We were just finishing breakfast, the following morning, when we heard the cheerful voice of Commander Mey call out, 'Ahoy, Night Song! Anyone aboard?'

Sella nodded, so I stepped over to the hatchway and stuck my head out. He was alongside in a small dinghy with a two man crew. I said, 'Good morning, Commander. Come, join us for a cup of kaf. We're just finishing a rather late breakfast.'

'Good morning, good morning,' he beamed cheerfully, a minute later, as he stepped down into the snug cabin and looked about the snug little saloon – the cheery sunlight slanting through its row of portholes made its varnished woodwork glow golden. 'My, that kaf smells inviting. Delighted to see all of you, of course. Not that I worried too much, but delighted nevertheless,' he added, taking a casual, but careful glance around the neat cabin.

The girls greeted him, Sella cheerfully, Lessie with her usual halfhearted attempt at a smile.

'Shall I pour you a cup?' I asked.

'Inviting, but no thank you. I've had several already, and I'm on my way to see the admiral and file a whole sheaf of reports and requests. I'm just calling to extend an invitation to all of you to dine with the Captain and myself this evening aboard the Tropic. We're a very casual ship. Come as you are, nothing formal.'

I gave Sella a cautionary glance, but she ignored it.

'Why, thank you, Commander...'

'Tal,' he corrected her, with a smile. 'Commander is just the decorations I wear on my shoulder, and that is of necessity. This isn't business, it's pleasure.'

'Why thank you, Tal. We'd be delighted. I'm sure we've all grown tired of our own cooking.'

'We have an excellent cook, and being in harbor there is nothing to prevent her from excelling. Good. Shall we say, six this evening?'

'Six, it is,' said Sella. 'We'll come hungry. We're planning to do a day's shopping. We haven't sailed this far, fighting our way through pirates to do any less. Indeed, several days' shopping.'

He smiled absently, but did not reply for a second.

'Anything else we can for you?' she added.

'Oh, I'm sorry. I got lost for a moment planning the menu. I enjoy my meals too much, I fear,' he replied, with a smile and padded his belly. 'Excellent. I'll leave you to your shopping. You'll find the old Tropic across the bay. We'll be expecting you.'

After I had seen him over the side and on his way, I returned to the cabin to finish my cup of kaf.

'You know he's fishing for information about us, don't you? I've been trying to place him. His name must have crossed my desk in a report at some point, but I can't put my finger on it.'

'Oh, come now, Taef. Don't be a political agent, seeing spies behind every batto tree. Wondering what we are doesn't make him some sort of secret agent. Of course he finds us mysterious. We are. And of course he'd like to discover more about us. So what? Even if we have to reveal that we're Vente islanders, what difference would it make? What harm is there in revealing ourselves to be the mysterious Vente sorcerers of island fame? That should prove interesting enough to satisfy him. That is neither island nor sea, as far as I can see. Who cares what he thinks we are? This is Cay Cara, not Feldara.'

'Perhaps...'

'And our story about falling out with Grandfather is absolutely true.'

'True,' I muttered. But then, if he was indeed an officer in the Feldara Union Navy's political directorate, he could call on the Cay Cacarian intelligence department to watch us, so it wouldn't matter whether this was Cay Cara or Feldara. Still, that should be nothing to concern the girls about. I, on the other hand, would have a hard time explaining the tinplate navy-id I had in my pocket... 'So what about me? Am I to be a Vente sorcerer as well?'

Lessie sniffed, and Sella gave me a long look, and then shook her head, sadly. 'No... I don't think we could pass you off as a Vente. Your accent is not quite like ours, and you'd know so little about the Vente islands, and too much of somewhere else. No, I think you'll just be some would-be-Zar Lada we hired during our voyage. That will also be true.'

'That being the case, what are my wages?' I asked, 'Perhaps we should discuss that.'

'Room and board,' replied Sella, adding airily, 'Take it or leave it, mate.

'You're too generous, sister,' muttered Lessie.

'Yes, I suppose I am.'

02

We took a trolley up to the city of Dela Dare in the hills surrounding the bay. It proved to be a modern city of two and three story stone and brick buildings, much like Tara, or a continental seaside town. Its streets were wide, batto tree lined boulevards, with electric current powered trolleys running up and down the center median, along with a scattering of oil engined vehicles imported from the continents.

The island of Cay Cara was the largest of the Tropic Sea islands, being almost 400 km long and 300 km wide. It ruled over a long established and extensive island empire outside of the Five Island Sea, so that it was a wealthy, modern, and stable nation that drew many tourists from both Aerlonia and Feldara, who we saw everywhere we went.

Fine shops lined the wide boulevards, and this time, we visited all of them. Or perhaps, it just seemed like that to me. We purchased the boots, some rugged clothing, and some packable tools, shovels, spades, tape measures, and the like, that we would need to do an initial survey of any ruins we might find on "Redoubt Island," as we had come to call it. However, we also spent a lot of time in shops where the girls inspected, and occasionally bought, some fine continental clothes.

Loaded down with packages, we returned to the Night Song shortly before four. We briefly rested, and then donned some of our finest clothes, before I rowed our dinghy across the bustling harbor toward the anchored warships on the far side.

We passed five steam freighters and two passenger liners from the continents tied up alongside the floating wharves as I rowed past them. There were more freighters in the roadstead. They were either loading or unloading their cargoes from or to the flat cars of the trolleys that ran down the long wharves (clearly, some continental practices had infiltrated into the island of Cay Cara, since a true island work day was done by five). Half a hundred smaller island traders lined the smaller wharves along the shore or lay at anchor in the harbor awaiting either their turn, or a cargo. A cloud of white seabirds soared and swirled over the fish market at the seaward point of the harbor. And beyond all this hubbub, the stately, white hulled warships of Cay Cara, plus several Feldara naval ships, including the Tropic, lay serenely at anchor. All of them were modern armored warships with turret cannons fore and aft. All of the Cay Caraian ships, as well as the Tropic, sported tall sail masts, despite being equipped with modern steam engines and propellers. As I mentioned, coal had to be imported from the continent, so while they would use it when they had it on hand, courtesy of the Feldara Union Navy, I suspect that Cay Cara didn't care to rely solely on that supply, with its strings attached, hence the sail masts. A prudent policy.

The Feldara navy painted their Tropic Sea ships with white hulls and light powder blue upper works – colors that showed rust, so that though it was almost six when we reached the landing stage of the Tropic, there was a crew over the side on a scaffold scraping and painting the streaks of rust off of the Tropic's hull.

We tied up alongside the floating landing stage, and were greeted by a junior officer who had clearly been briefed to expect us. He politely welcomed us aboard and led us up the stairs along the hull to the forward deck without questions. There he asked us to wait a moment while he informed Commander Mey of our arrival. Being a naval ship, it had a large crew, and all of its male crew seemed to have had business on the forward deck – something pressing to do with its large gun turret, but not so pressing that they couldn't stop and chat with us – that is to say with the girls – before being moved on by a petty officer, who would then apologize, at some length.

'It must have been a long cruise,' said Sella, with a quiet aside as one of the petty officers reluctantly went about his business.

'Oh, I don't think it would take a long cruise to find an excuse to say hello to two very attractive young ladies,' I replied.

'Why he's not only handsome, but gallant, as well. Don't you think so, Lessie?'

Much to my relief, she merely sniffed disdainfully.

At that point, Commander Mey appeared, half running. 'I'm so very sorry to have kept you waiting. Please excuse my rudeness! I was taking inventory in the storeroom and lost track of time, and Lieutenant Ret had to search the entire ship to find me. Oh, how I hate being in port – so much paperwork! But never mind. Let me take you around to the Captain. And I should mention before you meet her, that I happen to be married to her, so don't be scandalized by any lack of proper naval decorum,' he added with a laugh. 'This way!'

He led us up the stairs to the bridge and the captain's office. The door was open and I could see the captain working behind the large desk that took up half of the cabin. 'Airia, our guests have arrived.'

She looked up startled, and removing her spectacles, exclaimed, 'Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I lost track of time. You would not believe how much paperwork there is to take care of after a long voyage.' And rising, stepped around the paper strewn desk to greet us in the companionway where there was more room.

'My wife, Captain Airia Mey, our new friends, Sella and Lessie Raah, and Taef Lang,' he said, introducing us on by one.

I fear I started in surprise at the mention of her name. And I think she noted it.

As I have remarked before, I was lucky that I was merely a limited time officer in the political branch of the Aerlonian navy, since I would make a very poor spy. Any career as a spy I might have aspired too would, no doubt, have ended badly, since I did not hide surprises well. I started at the mention of her name with the sudden realization why Commander Tal Mey's name seemed familiar. In my head, they were familiar to me as Mey & Mey.

Luckily Sella kept their attention for several moments, giving me time to decide on my course of action. Despite my initial impulse to keep my familiarity with Mey & Mey to myself, I realized that my other limitation as a spy – that I did not lie well – had to be taken into account. I needed to mix my lies with a generous helping of the truth. The image of Zar Lada came to mind, and I realized that I could do just that. I could offer an innocent explanation of how I knew who they were, leaving out only certain facts. And not only that, but that by identifying them, I would hope it would make Sella a bit more cautious when spinning our tales. As I said, I could hope.

So, by the time Airia turned to me to shake my hand, I was ready. 'I am delighted and honored to meet you Captain Mey. And I must apologize as well. I'm embarrassed to admit that I failed to recognize your husband until just now. I guess I never pictured Airia Mey and Loutal Mey – Mey & Mey – as naval officers.'

She gave me both a shrewd, searching, and a questioning look behind her modest smile.

I plunged boldly ahead. 'I first discovered "Island Myths and Legends" by Loutal and Airia Mey in the local library years ago, back when I was just a young teenager. I was a big fan of the Zar Lada books at the time, and here, in your book, were the true stories and the real legends that Cline Kan must have mined to write his books. And well, as I grew older I tracked down and read your "The Peoples of the Islands" and "Human Dispersion Patterns Across the Islands of the Tropic Seas," as well. Of course those were much more scholarly, but they were still full of the magic of the islands. They've greatly influenced my life,' I may have gushed on a bit, but I was truly delighted to meet the authors of those three books that had, indeed, steered my life to archaeology – and if I am to be honest – to have played a part in steering me to Cay Cara in the company of two sorceress of Vente.

I turned to Commander Mey. 'Forgive me, I guess I always thought of your books simply as Mey & Mey's. Your name seemed vaguely familiar, but I simply didn't think to connect Tal Mey with the most famous scholars of the islands, Mey & Mey.'

'I'm blushing,' he said with a smile.

Turning to Sella and Lessie, and hopefully shooting warning glances out of my eyes, I continued 'Captain and Commander Mey are numbered as the world's most acknowledged experts on the peoples of the Tropic Islands – their history, societies, myths, and legends. They have traveled throughout the islands for many years and have written what is considered by scholars to be some of the most complete accounts of the human settlement of the islands.'

'You make me blush,' exclaimed Commander Mey. 'While it is true that my wife and I have crisscrossed the Tropic Seas for many, many years collecting stories and studying the people, we are still far, far from setting down a complete account of the peoples of the islands. Why you are living, breathing proof of that.

'Now that you have uncovered my secret, I must admit that in addition to wanting to introduce you to my wife so that she could enjoy your delightful company, I also wanted her to meet you young people, who I found to be something of an enigma. Despite all those years of sailing the Tropic Seas and all the islands we've called on, I cannot place you in any island group that I am familiar with. Curiosity has unmasked me!' he laughed.

Sella clapped her hands and laughed, 'Oh, an enigma! How delightful. Lessie is always the mysterious one, while I am always considered an open book. But to be an enigma as well... Oh, I'm honored.'

I don't think anyone believed her, about being as open as a book, anyway. Even Captain Mey gave her one of her shrewd, measuring looks. If we didn't have a believable story to tell about our travels, or at least a story more believable than the real story, I'd have been very nervous in the company of the Meys. But as I have come to know Sella, I knew that I could trust Sella to dazzle our hosts into believing whatever she decided to make our story. I would just have to follow her lead.

The Captain smiled and said, 'I apologize for both my dear husband and myself. We love a good mystery, and could not resist. I am rather relieved that our plot has been unearthed and exposed. It will make a more comfortable meal. Please feel free to remain mysterious. But enough of this. Come along, let's not stand around talking in the companionway. The wardroom is this way, and we must hurry, as I'm sure our meal is ready to be served. We eat promptly in the navy and if I told cook six, the meal will be ready at six.'

Over the meal we talked of our encounter with the pirates prior to their arrival, and they talked of their work and cruises. The Tropic is officially employed by the Feldara Union Navy's Hydrology & Meteorology Directorate to study the weather and ocean currents. 'But we are given great latitude as to where and how we wish to study the weather and ocean currents,' said Commander Mey with a wink.

'While we do useful work for that department, our studies of the islands and their peoples is our true passion. Our commission allows us to pursue this passion since our historical studies help the Admiralty, and politicians, in Jacartha understand the islands as they are today as well. And I should add, we can publish what we find, without any interference, so the arrangement works to everyone's benefit.'

'It sounds like an ideal arrangement. You never have to worry about finding funding,' I remarked.

'In many ways it is ideal. Until we find ourselves hip deep in paperwork, like we are now, after a long cruise,' said the Captain with a grim smile. 'Another added benefit is that we can travel most everywhere in the Tropic Sea in relative safety. We don't have to worry about pirates, or even unfriendly princes. And the old Tropic has weathered everything the typhoons have sent our way.'

'I wonder how the Tropic would have weathered what we experienced not three weeks ago,' said Sella, and then launched into a colorful, and accurate account of our encounter with the new born island off of Fre Lon. Our hosts were so enchanted with our experience, that their questions took us well into the dessert and the kaf. I thought perhaps we might escape without more careful questions. But no.

'This has been a delightful meal and evening,' said the Commander with a sigh. 'You've managed to entertain and amaze us without ever having to deflect a subtle question on our part about your origins. I salute you. Well done.'

'Oh, I wouldn't think of disappointing you,' laughed Sella. 'You likely saved our Night Song, if not our lives. We owe you an explanation. But I'll begin with a question. What islands haven't you visited? If we are indeed the enigma you take us for, then that should provide a clue, if not the answer.'

He gave her a measuring look. 'Hmm... That implies that you are from some known unknown island, not a completely unknown island.'

She shrugged. 'I suppose so. Though I don't know what you don't know.'

'Allow me, Tal,' said the Captain, 'Before I get a headache trying to follow all those knowns and unknowns. 'We have touched on, but not explored in any great depth, the various north western Tropic Sea islands, such as the Kartha Island Principalities, the Nigwola, the Bath Eras island groups.'

'So make your guess.'

'This is more of a wish than a guess,' began the Commander, with a smile. 'But having said that, my intuition suggests that you might be from the fabled Vente Islands of the northwest sea.'

Sella smiled. 'You have accurate intuition. You have indeed been dining with several evil sorcerers, or in this case, sorceresses from the dark isles of Vente, the scourge of naughty children throughout the islands. And some naughty adults as well,' she added with a glance in my direction.

'Are you truly Vente?' exclaimed the Commander leaning forward.

'Lessie and I. Taef here, well, let's just say that he was a very naughty boy in his youth. And when his parents warned him that if he continued to be naughty, the Vente would come in the middle of the night to steal him away and do whatever we do – I understand that it varies from island to island – he just laughed at them. Well, it took us a while, but we got around to coming for him, and he's not laughing now,' she said, lowering her voice dramatically. 'Are you?'

'Well, let's just say that I'm happy that I can still laugh when I care to. There have certainly been some times that I didn't feel like laughing.'

'So how did you get to know these Vente sorceresses?' asked the Commander.

I glanced at Sella, who answered for me, 'Completely by accident. As we told you, my sister and I have had a bit of a falling out with our Grandfather, the Prince of the Vente, and we've had to take leave of the islands until passions cool. Taef had saved Lessie from some Banjar pirates...'

'He did not...' 'I did not..' Lessie and I exclaimed together.

Sella laughed. 'Such modesty!'

'I was a mere passenger on a freighter that came upon Lessie and her crew on a waterlogged wreck at the same time as some Banjar traders and I invited myself along on the boat that was sent out to collect them. There was a disagreement with the Banjars as to whom would take on the shipwrecked mariners, which Lessie settled...' I paused, and glanced at the girls.

'Lessie settled it?'

'Yes. Once she made it clear who and what she was, the Banjars decided to pass on her and her crew,' I said carefully. 'Childhood memories linger on, I guess.'

'Yours didn't,' noted the Captain.

'Well, I was traveling on a continental steam ship, and they never heard of the Vente, so it didn't matter to them. And well, you've met them yourselves now, and, as you can see, they are quite delightful, unless you happen to cross them.'

'Why thank you, Taef,' laughed Sella. And then turning to the Meys, added in a low voice. 'Of course he has to say that, if he knows what is good for him.'

They laughed.

'Well, anyway, Lessie and Taef became friends...' she added.

Lessie sniffed a denial.

'And well, when Lessie got into trouble after sinking one of Grandfather's favorite boats, plus this and that, it became necessary for me to kidnap Taef to use him as something of a hostage, to free Lessie from her confinement, and escape the islands. We've kept him around ever since as he can steer, cook, and stand a watch. Plus, he said that he would worry about us if we didn't take him along on our cruise. That was sweet of him, but not necessary since Lessie and I are perfectly capable of sailing the Night Song and looking after ourselves.'

We stayed a half an hour more while Sella answered some of their questions about the Vente Islands, deftly avoided answering most, while subtly warning them to keep well away from the Vente Islands, until the day when the Vente felt like opening their islands to outsiders.

'Well, that went well, don't you think Taef?' asked Sella as we rowed back to the Night Song.

'As well as could be expected. I suppose that we owed them some sort of explanation, though I doubt that we've completely satisfied them. I don't know how much interest in us they might have, but I think it would be prudent to act as you have presented yourselves to be, by joining the other tourists and visiting the famous sites of the islands. And then, perhaps, we might want to sail down the coast and call on several more cities and see more sights before steering for the Five Island Sea, a place where tourists would not venture.'

'Will we ever get to my island?' snapped Lessie.

'It must wait. The Meys as much as said that they are intelligence agents. Trust me, the mystery we present, even if it doesn't matter, would be hard for them to resist solving. It's likely second nature to them after all these years. And when you consider that you are from some islands that they've yet to visit, and are unlikely ever to, you can imagine just how interesting you two girls are to them. If we don't act in character, they will be even more suspicious. And as I said, I'm sure they have links to their counterparts here in Cay Cara.'

'Listen to him, Lessie. He's one of them himself. He knows. We'll shop and see the sights. Why not? It will be years before we dare go home. No point taking unnecessary chances.'

Little did we know we were taking unnecessary chances by staying.

03

We had spent four days in Dela Dare seeing the sights – the old castle on the point one day, and the justly famous Hala Jin garden the next. On each of those days we had either lunch or dinner with one or both of the Meys. The third day dawned stormy. We ended up spending it aboard the Tropic with the Meys and various officers, rather than in the stuffy, bouncing cabin of the Night Song in the choppy anchorage. While it is easy to attribute our popularity to the Meys' curiosity, I don't think that was the whole of our appeal. Sella was always a delight to be around. Lessie, not so much. Well, not at all. But to her credit, after you had attempted to include her in the conversation and got only monosyllabic replies, and gave up, Lessie was content to sit quietly, making no effort to cast her shadow over Sella and her lively conversations.

I quickly found out that I could easily deflect any questions as to my background by leading Tal Mey to talk about his life's work. Having already established my interest in the history of the islands – as a hobby – he could be kept talking for hours on his adventures, and on his new discoveries that would be included in their next book. All I had to do was to be careful and not get too technical in my questions, and I could enjoy private lectures by the world's greatest authority in the field of study. I hoped to follow in his and his wife's footsteps – if I could get away from the Raahs, and the navy, alive and free. In short, we, well, Sella and I, enjoyed our days in Dela Dare. Lessie, not so much, but then that could always be said of Lessie.

As it happened, on the evening of the fourth day, Lessie and I were lounging on top of the Night Song's cabin, Lessie, with her back to the mast, while I rested at the after end of the cabin against the stand that the furrowed mainsail rested on. The heat of the day still lingered on, along with its distinct harbor fragrance. The boats and ships around us glowed yellow-orange in the light of the sun sinking over the anchored naval ships with the silhouettes of batto trees and rooftops beyond them. Sella was having dinner aboard the Tropic with Airia Mey. Lessie had been invited as well, but had declined. I had lunched with Tal, but he had duties to perform aboard the Tropic, so Lessie and I had some time to ourselves. Even in the company of Lessie Raah, you had time to yourself.

'We sail tomorrow. That should make you happy,' I said, after a long silence.

'Just down the coast to Ni Roe.'

'For a couple of days, and just to make it look like we're the tourists we claim to be. Safety and secrecy first. Then on to Tana Ver Island, for another day or two. After that a quick, two day dash to Redoubt Island and your heart's desire.'

'It's not my heart's desire.'

'Just because Sella and I are along?'

She said nothing for a while, and then shook her head, 'It doesn't matter.'

'You know that neither of us will make any claim to whatever we find. It is yours. I know that Sella did what she did – kidnapping me, and all, for you. She wants you to be happy.'

'You're naive.'

'How So?'

'Nothing is simple with Sella. Oh, she wants me to be happy. But there is more to it that that. Much more.'

'I know that Sella can be sort of manipulative – she knows what she wants, and I suspect usually gets what she wants. But in this case, I really think that she wants you to find your happiness. It is important to her that you once more become the sister she knew you to be when you were younger.'

'I am whom I am.'

'Yes, and I accept that. But Sella is hoping that what you find on Redoubt Island will make who you are a brighter, livelier Lessie.'

She shook her head, and I didn't argue the point.

'I don't care what I find there. I don't care if we find nothing. What it is, is not what is important,' she said quietly after a while.

I gave her a long sidelong glance. 'I find that very hard to believe, after all the effort you've put in to discovering and reaching Redoubt Island.'

'Redoubt Island doesn't matter. It never mattered,' she said with a shake of her head. She looked to me, and seeing my disbelief added, 'What mattered was that I was doing something on my own. Something as Lessie Raah.'

'Rather than as Sella Raah's twin sister?' I ventured.

'No. Not exactly. Sella is Sella. She is always going to dominate any room, shine in any company, and she is welcome to do that; that's who she is. I don't want to be like her. I like being unnoticed.

'No, this was something I just wanted to do all by myself. Ever since I tripped the secret latch and the golden cylinder fell into my lap, it has seemed like my destiny. I would discover its secret. It didn't, and doesn't, matter to me, what that secret is. What was important to me was that it was mine.

'But now, it isn't mine,' she added, bitterly.

'Of course it is yours. You discovered the secret of the gold key, you found Redoubt Island on the map. Whatever we find there will be your discovery. The thing is that you could've never made this final step all alone. You had the crew of the Sealight along with you on your first attempt. Now you just have Sella and I along – people you can trust. We know what you, alone, have accomplished, and will give you full credit for it.'

'Oh, I suppose. It doesn't matter.'

What more could I say? I watched her for a while longer, but she just stared off into the sunset. If you believed her, happily, enough.

I may have dozed. It was now almost night when the dark figure of Lessie stirred and rose to stand next to the mask, and ask, 'Who goes there?' And then 'Keep off!'

I turned about to see a longboat full of men coming alongside. My first thought was that it was Sella being rowed back from the Tropic. But they wouldn't be arriving from that direction, or with such secrecy. Who then?

Whoever they were, they didn't keep off. Instead they lifted their oars and banged against the hull of the Night Song. Several of them rose and grabbed the low railing.

'Shove off. You've got the wrong boat,' said Lessie. No one believed that.

'I've come for you,' growled a dark figure leaping from the boat to stand on the Night Song's narrow deck. 'You killed my son and I've come to kill you.'

'You're the pirates,' said Lessie.

He didn't deny it. Instead he said, 'You shot down my son and I shall have my revenge.'

'You killed your son,' snapped Lessie. 'You killed him. You chased and attacked us. You then sent your son in on that boat to capture or kill us. I didn't see you on that boat. No, not you. You were safe and sound aboard your ship while you put your son in the way of a bullet. What did they expect to accomplish but to catch bullets? Idiots. But you're not an idiot, since you weren't along. No, it was you who killed your son the moment you ordered him to take that boat in. Better him than you...'

Ah, good old Lessie pouring oil on troubled waters – and then lighting it on fire. As she ripped into the pirate captain, his crew were climbing over the railing to join him on the deck. There had to be ten or more of them. The wisest thing we could be doing at this moment would have been taking to the water. Given the darkness, and the many boats about, we would've had a good chance of escaping with our lives, at least. The second wisest thing we could have been doing was screaming bloody murder. Harbor pirates are not welcome in any island harbor, and we could certainly count on aid from any of the occupied boats within shouting range. And there were several. I had to believe that the stupidest thing we could have done was argue with a grieving, enraged pirate who had apparently followed us to Dela Dare to extract his revenge while his crew slipped aboard our boat.

'Now clear off – all of you,' continued Lessie. 'Before you all end up dead, like his son. Move, while you can.'

I don't think that they realized that I was also aboard. It was nearly night. The moons had yet to rise, so we had only the last glow of sunset and the lights of the city and ships. The wooden sail stand I was leaning against likely hid me from their view. And no doubt, Lessie's bravado kept their attention, as it was perhaps meant to, to allow me time to do something. But what? With the cabin below in the dark, I didn't think that I'd have time to slip down, find one of the hidden revolvers, and return in time to save Lessie from being captured or killed by the pirate gang. And then too, they likely had revolvers as well, but would be reluctant to use them, as gunfire would give away their game. If I used one, that would put an end to their reluctance. I didn't like the odds.

All I could hope for was that Lessie was only planning on some token resistance before taking to the water. But I had to do my part. I silently undid the strap holding the furled sail to the stand and slowly and carefully gathered my feet under me.

'I'm going to kill you, personally,' the pirate growled.

'No you're not. You're a yellow coward. You've brought ten other men along because you haven't the guts to kill me yourself,' continued Lessie, undaunted.

'Oh, not here and now. I intend to kill you slowly,' he growled. 'I want her alive. We'll have our revenge! Get her, men!'

And with that order, everyone swung into action.

Lessie leaped over the sail, to land on the other side of the cabin and give the pirate chief a sharp kick in the face that sent him tumbling back into this long boat.

And as the rest of his gang surged towards her, I heaved the sail off of the rack with my back, and twisting about, swung it across the cabin and into the men on the deck beyond, catching them with their backs to me. The sail sent five or six of them tumbling over the low railing and back into their long boat, loudly cursing.

Lessie, now just forward of the mast was still surrounded by dark figures attempting to reach her and pull her down. That, however, appeared easier said than done. Clinging to the lift line along the mast to steady herself, she seemed to be using very effective kick fighting skills to keep them all at bay. Still...

I leaped over the sail and kicked the back of the knee of the fellow closest to me, and as he began to collapse, I hit the side of his neck with a knife-hand blow, and shouldered him over the side and into the harbor. That left two for Lessie, which she seemed to be able to handle without my help. Well, she'd have to handle them without my help, as a glance back showed that the fellows I'd knocked into the boat had sorted themselves out and were climbing aboard again, I turned, and jumped down to the deck and skipping along it, put a foot into all the faces I could reach. Cursing, they drew their knives... They had all decided that I wasn't included in their orders to be captured alive.

I had to jump over one swipe, and seeing the flash of others, retreated back to the top of the cabin, out of their reach, for the moment. This however, allowed them to reach the deck again. I hadn't Lessie's kick fighting skills, and I feared that if I tried, one of them would grab my leg, and drag me down, to finish me off.

I slowly backed toward Lessie, to take my stand near the mast, but on my side of the sail. I figured that we could cover each other's back. I still thought a dive into the dark waters of the harbor was called for – we'd hurt some, if not all of them, and if we could escape as we were, I'd call it a victory. Of sorts. But, of course, Lessie had other ideas. And the problem, for me, anyway, was that I was now likely to face opponents armed with knives or clubs, without a weapon of my own. Zar Lada faced similar circumstances many times in his adventures, and I had taken Hi-ra Kara Island fighting style courses in my Zar Lada inspired youth, but this was real. Very real.

The first fellow to reach the deck came after me with a gleam of steel in his hand and took a low upward swipe with it that I managed to dodge, and grabbing his wrist, I pulled him close and gave him a knee in the groin. Between his momentum, and me being off balance and on one foot, we both tumbled to the deck. However, since I hadn't been kicked in the groin, I was able to give him a punch to the face, and rolled free, grabbing the knife he had dropped before I rose. I gave him another kick that sent him rolling to the deck below. The next fellow jumped over him, and advanced a little more slowly, perhaps catching the glint of steel in my hand.

I caught some movement in the corner of my eye, turning just in time to see a figure lunging up from the far side of the boat at me. One of the pirates had the presence of mind to circle around the cabin. I started to turn to meet his attack when there was a faint flicker of blueish light, and the fellow's lunge turned into a diving fall, dropping his knife and striking me at knee level, and rolling off, apparently unconscious.

This, however, was enough to distract me from the fellow in front of me, and as I turned back, he lunged and caught me in my left shoulder. I swung my knife hand around to strike him back. He lurched back, dragging me with him until his fall pulled his knife out of me. Only then did I know I'd been knifed.

I staggered, and then, saw an explosion of light and pain that swept around from the back of my head. And then nothing.

Chapter 13 On My Own

01

It was still dark when I noticed something again. 'Lessie?' I croaked, taking up the last thought that was going through my head as the lights faded. I hadn't held up my end.

'She's fine. Not a scratch. More than I can say about you. How do you feel?' said a quiet, unfamiliar, voice beside me.

'Terrible.'

'I'm not surprised. But you'll live.'

I tried to move my head, but that really hurt. Hurt more.

'I can't see.'

'That's just the bandages. You took a nasty blow on the side of your head, and bandages are partly covering your eyes. We'll fix that in the morning. Just lay quietly. You will likely have suffered a concussion. The knife wound to your shoulder missed everything vital, so that should heal as well. We have bound your arm to your chest to allow the wound time to begin healing. And you may suffer some nausea from your head wound. Otherwise, you're fine.'
I wasn't fine, but I let it pass. 'Where am I?'

'In the sick bay of the Tropic. Your friend and the boat crew arrived on the scene just as you went down. Everything was quickly settled soon after that with the surviving pirates taking to the water.'

'How many did they capture?'

'Three. The rest managed to escape, but your friends were more concerned about you than chasing swimming pirates.'

I guess that was all I needed to know, and lost interest in the conversation, and in being conscious, until I was sick, as predicted. After that I sort of lost interest in living for a while.

02

'Good morning, Lieutenant Lang, How are you feeling?' asked Commander Mey as he strode into the sick bay with a wide smile, with the sun slanting through the sickbay portholes. An orderly had been keeping watch, but either did not know or feigned ignorance of the events of the previous evening.

'Are you keeping a watch over Sella and Lessie? If that pirate captain is alive, he'll come after them again,' I said, trying to sit up, using the one arm that was available to me.

'Relax. They are safe, and in a lot better shape than you are. How are you feeling?'

'Terrible,' I replied, 'And just for the record, it's "Lieutenant LT Lang." LT, as in "limited time." Lang,' I replied. Apparently they had found my navy identity tinplate in my pocket. Feeling as terrible as I was, I found that I didn't care. It didn't matter.

'Is that important?' he asked, sitting down on my cot next to my feet, to beam at me. 'The LT part.'

'It is to me,' I growled. 'This was supposed to be just a four year parentheses in my life plan. It may well be shorter – or longer. Hard to say.'

'But you didn't think it important enough to mention it to me, and the Captain.'

'I don't see how it matters. I'm not here to count the turrets on your cruisers in the harbor.' (We already had people here doing just that.) 'And when it comes right down to it, I don't know how current the tinplate is. I disappeared into thin air almost three months ago. I don't know how the navy handles things like that. I could be considered the late lieutenant RT Lang, for all I know.'

'Oh, I suppose it doesn't. We're just rather chagrined that you pulled that deception off so easily.'

'I was only trying to keep things simple. I am, of course, up to speed about what is going on in the islands between our two governments. Truthfully, being island born, I don't like it. We should be inspiring the islanders to adopt the principles of the Founders rather than encouraging their darker leanings. But that's neither island or sea. All I was doing was trying to keep two rather fearless and headstrong young ladies that I care for, a little safer than they might have been if they had been sailing the islands alone, as they had planned.'

'A noble impulse. But not in the line of duty, I take it.'

'I will argue that it was in the line of duty. But whether or not my superiors will see it that way, I leave it up to you to decide. I'm sure you know more about matters like that than I do.'

He smiled. 'Perhaps. I can imagine, however, that it will be somewhat of a challenge to convince your commanding officer that sailing off into the sunset with two beautiful girls constituted duty.'

''Well, I was actually shanghaied to free Lessie, it's after that that things got a bit iffy, since I could've left their company on a dozen islands that we have called on. Still, Sella will someday be the ruler of a rather large, and as you may gather, advanced island group on the very doorsteps of Nortera. I think I can justify not only my cooperation with them, but my concern for their safety as well.'

He grinned, but said nothing.

'And for that matter, it's not that you haven't been cultivating their friendship as well, and likely for the same mix of reasons.'

He nodded, 'Guilty. But as you say, it's a pleasure, as well as a duty. I've grown quite fond of them.'

'And, I should point out, that I've done nothing to discourage their friendship with you and Captain Mey. I haven't been playing the political officer, and I don't see you as the enemy.'

'We're not enemies, Taef. I may not be island born, but between you and me, both Airia and I feel as you do. But, I suspect, like you, we've had to make compromises in order to pursue our interests in the peoples of the islands. Luckily, we're given a long leash and can generally stay clear of the island politics. So you needn't worry on that account. You're just a new friend.'

'Thank you. Though I do have one confession to make.'

'And that is?'

'I have actually been secretly interrogating you, as well. Before I joined the navy to complete my civic duty, I had earned a degree in archaeology from Layfarm University. And being island born, I was looking to follow in the footprints of Mey & Mey, once my civic duty is completed. So you can imagine what a delightful surprise it was to discover that I was in the company of my heroes! And how wonderful our conversations have been. I hope you will forgive me for being less than forthcoming. I hope, in time, to become much more than the amateur island historian I've presented myself as.'

'Why that's wonderful!' he exclaimed. 'I'm delighted to hear that! We must have many more conversations while you recover. Traveling as we do, we fall so far behind on all the news out of the academic world of the continents. You must bring us up to date on all the latest developments. Layfarm, you say? Are professors Greh, and Kilfer still active?'

'Oh, yes. Both are going strong. I had both for several classes.'

'Grand. And once you get out of the navy and established in our field a little, perhaps we can together use our friendship with the Raahs to lift the veil of secrecy from the Vente Islands...'

'I would like that idea, but well, we must see. They are very secretive, needlessly, I think. Hopefully Sella will see that.'

'No matter. If Sella is to be believed, you may be a Vente yourself someday.'

'Huh?'

'Lessie...'

'Oh, that is only a game Sella's playing for some reason. Perhaps she just likes to tease. Lessie may be a fine person underneath her nearly constant frowns, and is certainly a fearless demon in a fight. But, well, she's not my type. I'm looking for someone a little more cheerful, well, a lot more cheerful. Sella thinks Lessie will change, but I don't see that happening. Some people just like being the way she is.'

'Sella seems to often get her way...'

'Not in this case. Lessie is no more enamored of me than I am of her.'

'I'll have to take your word for it. But that brings us around to the next subject that I needed to talk to you about.'

'Which is?'

'In view of the continued danger from the pirates, and in view of your wounds and likely recovery time, the Raahs decided to sail on without you. They sailed shortly after dawn. I have a letter, here, from Sella, and a pouch with your "wages" to see you home. I locked that away with your other possessions,' he said as he handed me Sella's letter.

I took it numbly. I suppose it had to happen sooner or later...

'I am sorry, but they were quite determined' continued Mey. 'I offered to post guards on the Night Song, and to accompany them ashore, but they'd not hear of that. So, all in all, it seemed that sailing on, down the coast and around Cape Dre to the east seemed the best alternative. They assured Airia and I that they were perfectly capable of sailing the Night Song between them. I'm sorry that we could not convince them to stay under our protection.'

I toyed with the letter. 'Nothing to be sorry about. If they were too proud to accept guards, sailing now, before the pirates can strike again, makes the most sense. The longer they stayed on here, the more danger they'd be in. I would have liked to sail on with them, but at present I'd just be a burden to them with just one working arm. It's one thing to lend a hand, it's another thing to expect them to sail the boat and look after me, even for a few days. All good things must come to an end.'

'All too true. You would've had to leave them sooner or later.'

'Oh well. So, when will I be back on my feet?'

'On your feet, by the dinner time. However, we'd like to keep you onboard, not only for your safety, but to make certain that your knife wound doesn't take a nasty turn. If all goes well, the doc says you can be on your way in three or four days. Right. I better let you read your letter and get some more rest. If you need anything, just ask the orderly on duty.'

'Thank you Tal, and thank the Captain as well. I appreciate all that you've done for the girls and me.'

'I assure you, it has been our great pleasure.'

I had to grin when I opened the envelope. There were two sheets. Since I'd never seen the old style characters in handwritten style, I had to decipher rather than read it. Luckily, both were short. The first was a letter to me.

Dear Taef,

Tal assures us that you are in no danger. You are, in fact, in far less danger than we are. After considering all our options, we have decided to sail on, leaving you in the care of the Meys. It was not an easy decision, but we feel that it was the best one for all of us. We promise to be more careful in the future,. We will find a nice peaceful island and spend our exile there, so you needn't worry about us.

Thank you for everything you've done for Lessie and I. We won't forget you.

Love,

Sella

P.S. I put six gold pieces in a pouch to see you home. I've enclosed an excuse that, hopefully, will keep you from being shot.

Lessie must have added the "Raah" in the corner, as far away from "love" as possible.

The second was a letter designed to keep me from being shot went like this;

Sir,

Please excuse Lieutenant Lang's recent extended absence. I carried him off to the Islands of the Vente to assist me in various internal endeavors. His generous help, friendship, bravery, and personal integrity, has made a very positive impression on me. As the future ruler of the Vente, his friendship will color our future relations with Aerlonia, as long as he is treated with the respect that his mission to the Vente deserves.

Yours,

Sella Raah.

'Well, that should do the trick,' I laughed after I had deciphered it. Of course Sella Raah would mean nothing to them, and a future prince never holds much water either. In the islands, would-be-princes often never live long enough to be princes. And since they'd likely have to rely on my translation of it, well, I had a feeling I'd still need a pretty convincing story, and all the intelligence I could offer them on Vente Island. Still, it wouldn't hurt.

I considered showing the letters to the Meys, if only to show them how old style characters were written by hand. And well, they may have read them before I did, in their role of Feldarian Union Navy political officers. But I decided to let sleeping dogs sleep, and did not.

03

Three days later, after expressing my appreciation for their kindness, I said goodbye to Captain and Commander Mey. They had me rowed ashore and hustled into a carriage to be driven up to the Dela Dare's train station. There I purchased a ticket and boarded a train for Tai Falls, a popular tourist city in Cay Cara's central heights, 200 kilometers to the east, and 40 kilometers from the sea.

We planned to make it hard for any revenge seeking pirates to follow me. In addition, I wanted to give the Meys' the impression that I had accepted that the Raah girls had sailed on without me, as they may well have – Lessie would've for certain. However, our plan, before the pirate raid, had been to sail down the coast, acting like the tourists we were pretending to be. If they had followed that plan, they would be in Ni Roe, a small harbor city that happened to be just 40 kilometers south of Tai Fall and would be sailing for Tana Ver Island that very night, and Redoubt Island a day or two later. Nevertheless, I didn't intend to join them in my current state of health.

I was on the mend, but I did not want to risk either an infection or ripping open my knife wound by some fall or while climbing the volcanic peak. I did not want to risk becoming a burden. I knew that I was a burden to Lessie already and I didn't wish to annoy Sella as well. They had made it perfectly clear that they were capable of reaching Redoubt Island without me. While I was curious as to what they might find, what I needed to do, was to clear my name with the navy, and then start my true career. My future did not depend on Redoubt Island. I had Dar Fu to (re)discover when the time was ripe.

My health was not the only reason for my caution. Even in the relatively short time I had known the Meys, I knew from their academic careers, they were driven by a great sense of curiosity and a desire to solve mysteries. I had to assume that these characteristics carried over to their naval duties as well. I had the distinct feeling that they still found the Raah sisters, as well as myself, something of a mystery. Oh, they were subtle and polite in their interrogations, and we had our stories down pat. But if you examined them closely, they likely raised more questions than they answered, since they were designed to hide the full truth. For example, we had no clear answer as to why we had sailed some 4000 kilometers across the Tropic Sea just to be tourists in exile, when there were hundreds, if not thousands of equally interesting islands far closer. What I did not know, was whether or not their curiosity was strong enough to keep an eye on us while in Cay Cara.

I knew from all the reports I'd read, and filed, during my Section 3 days, that Cay Cara was a hotbed of intrigues. I had no doubt that, if the Meys were curious enough, they could use their naval connections to call on a web of agents in Cay Cara to keep tabs on us, even without bothering to have us followed. So, it seemed to make sense, if I wanted the Raah sisters to find their treasure, to both stay well clear of them and play the role of a convalescent in some highland resort city. I had told the Meys that I wanted to fully recover before proceeding to Cape Dre where I would likely find a continental company steamer that would take me either to Fey Lon directly or to an island port where I could get a steamer for Fey Lon. Tai Falls filled the bill on both accounts. It was on the way to Cape Dre, but only a short train ride south to Ni Roe on the coast where I might, or might not, find the Night Song.

Cay Cara is a land of fields and wild flowers. As the largest of the Tropic Sea islands, you could get fully away from the sea, and once inland, it had a continental feel to it. It had a central chain of old and extinct volcanoes, their steep flanks deep green in the jungle. Jungle lined rivers flowed down from those blue-green peaks like veins. Below the peaks, the countryside rolled away to the unseen sea, a quilt-work of farm fields and red tile roofed villages, linked by narrow lanes lined with wild flowers. The train rattled and squeaked along at faster than a walking pace, but at a pace that allowed plenty of time to enjoy the beautiful countryside, and fragrant, warm air that drifted through the open windows during the nearly five hour journey to Tai Falls. Well, to be fair, there were something like a hundred stops between Dela Dare and Tai Falls. Or at least that was the impression I was left with. But, in short, a fellow in a hurry to Tai Falls might be advised to walk. I was in no hurry, so I enjoyed the journey.

Tai Falls's main attraction was a wide, if not spectacular, waterfall and the sixteen little islands in the river Tai below the falls that had been developed into a beautiful park of flowers, walks, pavilions, and ornate bridges. It was a perfect place to convalesce. I spent several hours each morning, before it grew too hot, and several in the evening, in the park doing just that. On my fourth day, I called at a doctor's office to have my stitches removed, and to get a clean bill of health, paid for my room and took the evening train to Ni Roe.

I had a lot to think about. I tried, and failed, to determine what I hoped to find at the end of my train ride. Did I want to see the Night Song bobbing in the harbor of Ni Roe? Or find it gone?

This uncertainty perhaps rose out of the fact that in the last week my life had returned to something approaching normal. Did I really want to return to the extraordinary and the rather dangerous company of the sisters Raah? I already had all I could tell about the Vente Islanders. Whatever Redoubt Island held, it would be Lessie's, and she was welcome to it. The central question was, could my presence make a difference? I found that impossible to answer.

I alighted from the train in the deepening twilight, and walked out of the station onto the street. I stood and turned towards the harbor. Did I really want to go down to the harbor?

I found that my greatest fear was of Lessie. What if Sella was actually right about her? I didn't want to hurt her, but I also didn't want her.

On the other hand, I wasn't looking forward to facing Captain Char either. But Captain Char was unavoidable. Lessie Raah was.

I could catch an eastbound train and follow the program I had outlined with the Meys and find a steamer to Fey Lon, without ever running the slightest risk that Sella was right. And yet, I hated to admit that I was a coward. I mean, even if Sella was right, that didn't mean that I was doomed to accept Lessie as my life's partner. I had a choice in the matter, as well. I pictured a nice, cheerful, bright girl who would be happy to sail with me to island digs, and yet, not be bored being the wife of a university lecturer. I told myself that come what may, I wouldn't settle for anything less.

And so, in the end, I realized that I was standing here out of friendship and concern, and that friendship, and my concern hadn't ended.

So I pushed on down to the edge of town with the harbor, glittering in the light of the moons below.

I scanned the harbor for the Night Song, and found her. Delighted or dismayed? Both.

Chapter 14 Across the Five Island Sea

01

I walked down the hill to the white sand beach. I made my way between the dark shapes of the beached fishing boats to the edge of the beach nearest the anchored Night Song. Its cabin portholes were glowing softly, so I cupped my hands and called out 'Ahoy Night Song!' several times before Sella popped out of the hatchway. She looked to shore and seeing me, waved, called down to Lessie, and disappeared over the far side, only to reappear in the dinghy a moment later.

'We were beginning to get really worried about you, Taef,' she exclaimed as the bow of the dinghy ground into the sandy beach.

'Well, here I am hale and hearty,' I said as I tossed my roll-pack into the boat and waded into the water to shove the boat off the sand. With it afloat, I, carefully, climbed over its bow and onto the forward bench. 'Sorry to keep you waiting, but I wanted to be sure that I could be of some use to you, and not turn into a burden.'

She swung the dinghy around and took a few strokes before turning around and saying, 'We felt real bad about not waiting to see you in the morning. But we decided that leaving you like we did would be acting in the character of the daughters of a prince, leaving an underling behind when he suddenly became a burden. We didn't want Tal and Airia putting guards onboard the Night Song. Who knows what all they'd find poking their noses into our stuff when our backs were turned. We knew you'd understand our intentions without us having to hint and wink while we said our goodbyes.'

'Of course I knew exactly what you were thinking, and why you acted as you did. It was a great relief to me. There was no better way to keep you safe with that pirate gang still at large.'

She paused rowing to reach out and put her hand on my arm, 'Thank you for standing by my sister like you did, outnumbered as you were. And yes, I must admit that I'm very angry with you for getting yourself stabbed and causing us both to worry so much these last days, but I've now forgiven you.'

'Thank you. I apologize. It was thoughtless of me. I'll try not to let it happen again.'

She gave me a smile, took my hand and gave it a squeeze. 'Good. Lessie won't show it, but she was terribly worried about you.'

'Ah-huh.' I said, but didn't argue.

She didn't show it when we arrived alongside.

'It is about time. We've waited long enough,' she said as she caught the rope I tossed to her.

'And hello to you, too, Lessie. I would've been here sooner, but I didn't want to put you into the position of having to nurse me back to health.'

'A wise decision,' she replied, and after tying up the dinghy alongside, went forward to start raising the anchor.

I tossed the roll-pack onto the deck, and carefully climbed on board with a bit of help from Sella.

'Are you truly recovered?' she whispered.

'Oh, yes. Had the stitches out today. Just being extra careful. I don't want to risk opening the wound again.'

'Good. Take the tiller, Taef. We'll motor out. It appears that Lessie is in a bit of a rush. We'll get the dinghy onboard before setting the sails. Up to standing watch?'

'Oh, yes. I wasn't about to show up until I could.'

Lessie stepped into the faint light of the binnacle to stand next to me in the early hours of the following day.

'I have the watch,' she said quietly.

'And you're welcome to it,' I replied, and read off our course and pointed to our position on the chart.

She took the tiller, and I stepped back and sat down on the raised windward deck around the cockpit.

'I want to thank you for saving my life,' I said quietly.

'I believe Sella and the Tropic crew did that. They arrived within a minute after you went down. You weren't in that much danger.'

'I was before that. When you used your magic.'

'Did I?'

'Most certainly. I didn't see him until he was almost within knife reach, and I had my hands full with the fellow before me. I would've had couple of knife holes in me and would likely have been dying if not dead. As it was, I only ended up with one stab wound, and here I am.' Like it or not.

She said nothing.

'Well, putting that aside, I was just wondering why, if you could use your Founders' weapon...'

'My Founders' weapon? What do you mean?'

'You know, the device you carry with you to put people to sleep, as you say. The thing you used to down those four banjars when we picked you off of the wreck. The thing you used to free yourself from poor Lieutenant Fel back on the train back in Teraven. You used it again on that fellow before he could sink his knife in me aboard the Night Song. That Founders' weapon.'

I waited for a while, but since it didn't seem like she intended to offer any explanation, I continued, 'Why didn't you use it to defend yourself?'

'I didn't need to.'

'Well, I suppose that I can't argue that. You looked to be in your glory. Still, a little demonstration of your so called sorcery might have sent them fleeing like it did the Banjars.'

She didn't answer.

'I suppose that one doesn't use either an ancient Founders' weapon unless one has to. It has to be some 4,500 years and, I would suspect, every use can not be replaced. All of which makes me very appreciative of you for using it to save me.'

'Are you planning to spend all night talking?'

'No, I guess not. I just wanted to take this opportunity, when we were alone, to thank you without Sella making a big deal about it. Neither of us likes that. We stood by each other, as we had agreed, and I'm happy we did. Happier that you did.. And on that note, I'll bid you goodnight.'

She may have said a quiet goodnight as well, reluctantly.

But I didn't mind, I was glad that we were friends like that. And only like that.

02

It rained, on and off, and the wind blew in fits and starts, the entire following day, but we sailed on, almost directly south without encountering more than local fishermen casting their nets along the reefs of the rain shrouded islands we sailed passed. We slipped back into our old routine without any effort. For the most part. Lessie was increasingly anxious now that we were so close – within days – of her dream. She expected disaster, and the moment she allowed herself to grow eager, almost excited, she'd curse herself for tempting fate and would go back to darkly expecting disaster.

The possible disaster that she expected, arose with the dawning of the second day.

Sella shook me awake in the dim-lit forecastle bunk. 'Would you come up on deck. We have a visitor that you need to deal with.'

'Huh? A visitor?'

'Pull your pants on while I fill you in,' she said, and politely stepped back into the short passageway. 'We have a warship alongside – I don't recognize the flag it's flying. They've sent over a young officer to, ever so politely, insist that we allow him to take our boat to an island off to the west.

'The thing is that he's no islander. He has a continental accent and his uniform looks just like yours, not like the Meys, so I asked him if he was an Aerlonian.'

'And he said?'

'He hemmed and hawed, and insisted that it didn't matter. He had his orders, and he assured us that we would only be held there for a few days, before being released to continue on our way. Nothing to worry about. I asked him what this was all about, but he was very evasive. A routine measure, he assures us.'

'Humm...' My mind was racing ahead. I needed to assume that he was an Aerlonian, so I would need a story...

'Making matters rather iffy is that Lessie isn't taking a prospect of a few days' delay very well. Given her eagerness to see her island, now that we're so close, she's unwilling to let some youngster in a uniform boss her around on the open sea. She's already called him a bloody pirate. I can't really blame her, but I'd rather settle this a bit more diplomatically. So I'm hoping that you, being an Aeloninan naval officer yourself, can talk him out of the necessity of carrying us off to some island for some reason for some days.'

'I can try,' I muttered, buttoning up my shirt. 'Give me a minute to get myself looking something like an Aelonian naval officer.'

I slipped into my sandals, ran my fingers through my hair, splashed some water from the jug in the galley and looked wishfully on the pot of kaf, but decided I hadn't time for that.

The day, as I climbed into it, was new and still hazy. Lessie was still at the tiller, though our sails were flapping. Fifty meters to starboard was a sleek, modern steam frigate in its working, dark grey, paint scheme. While she was flying a Si Darta ensign, I recognized her as an Aerlonian Stalker Class frigate. As far as I knew, we weren't giving those ships away, so I had to believe the Si Darta ensign was a polite deception. They had not bothered to aim the two twin 15 cm gun mounting turrets at us, but they had sailors standing by a half of dozen smaller caliber guns. A tall, thin, and very young officer in an Aerlonian naval uniform was standing along on the deck, holding on to the railing along the top of the cabin. There was a motor launch with six sailors bobbing alongside.

I was happy to see a single wavy line on his shoulder strap and collar – an ensign. I outranked him, even as an LT, which would make dealing with him a whole lot easier.

'Good morning, ensign. What can we do for you?' I asked cheerfully, as I made my way to him from the cockpit.

He gave me a look of impatience mixed with anxiety. He'd been ordered to take command of this boat, and was annoyed that his orders were being resisted. He was also worried about how his slow progress in following his orders looked to his captain who was no doubt watching him from across the way.

'I have made that clear already. I am sorry, sir, but I have orders to take command of this boat and sail it to the island off the starboard bow,' he said with a sweep of his hand.

I glanced to the distant green-grey island perhaps ten kilometers off our starboard bow. At the very top of the swell, I caught a glimpse of a long grey line of ships that looked to be anchored in the island's lagoon. I waited until I could confirm that with the next wave.

'Ah, an operation a'foot, eh, ensign?' I said, turning to him with a smile. 'Hush-hush, I suppose.'

'I am not at liberty to say, sir. Please sir, if you will allow me, I and my crew will take temporary possession of this craft. It will be released back to you in due time.'

'That won't be necessary, ensign,' I said, pulling out my tinplate badge and holding it before him so he could see it. 'I'm Lieutenant Lang, and we're sailing under Admiralty orders. Since it would be detrimental to my mission to be taken up and confined with a gaggle of other island boats, I must decline your request.'

He looked at my tinplate and to me. 'Sir?'

'Admiralty orders, Department Seven, Section 3, if you get my drift, ensign.'

He looked trapped. I'm sure he was reluctant to be sent packing. The captain wouldn't like seeing that. But, well, I out ranked him and was ordering him to shove off with vague admirals looming unseen behind me.

'What ship?' I asked, to give him time to think.

'The Harrier, sir.'

I have a good memory for details, and I recalled several reports that had crossed my desk to be condensed and filed that mentioned the Harrier. 'Ah, would that be Captain Nevis, I believe.'

He nodded.

'Excellent. He's familiar with Section 3 operations. He'll understand. Will that be all, ensign?'

He hesitated a moment, and surrendered. 'Yes, sir.'

'Excellent. Carry on, ensign. My regards to Captain Nevis,' I said in my best imitation of a naval officer, of the non-limited-time sort. It was good enough to evoke a salute from the young ensign, which I returned, island style.

After he reboarded the launch, and as soon as the launch was clear, I made my way to the cockpit.

'Let's get underway, Lessie,' I said as I hauled the mainsail around to catch the wind. We surged ahead.

'Well done, Taef. You almost had me fooled there, for a moment, anyway, that you were a real naval officer,' said Sella, beaming.

'I am a real naval officer. Or was.'

'Who would've believed it? So what was that all about?'

'There's a large fleet in yon island's lagoon. I suspect that they're collecting a major invasion fleet. Must be something big, since they seem to be using the Aerlonian navy in picket duty. No doubt they're collecting every boat in sight of the island so that word of it doesn't get out before it sails.'

'Are we now clear to sail on?' Lessie asked darkly.

'Ah, if I were a betting man, I'd say "no." I suspect that Captain Nevis will want a word with me. But don't worry, I don't think he'd dare risk sinking a Section 3 operation, however many questions he might have. I'm going down to put on some fresh clothes and grab a cup of kaf. Call me if, or when, they decide they want a further chat.'

That was ten minutes later.

Sella called down, 'They're back and they want a word with Lieutenant Lang.'

I had changed, washed up, and with half a cup of warm kaf in me, I was ready to face Captain Nevis of the Harrier. Remarkably, I found that I was almost eager. I'd read hundreds of reports, half of them concerning these islands, so I knew how to act my part. The only dark cloud on the horizon was the fact that Lieutenant LT Lang was missing – absent without leave, especially if my parents had mentioned my brief appearance to Captain Char. Now, I didn't think that was important enough to be included in the dispatches of forces operating 1500 kilometers away from FeyLon, but this was the navy, so you never know.

When I appeared on deck, the ensign called out, 'Captain Nevis requests your presence onboard the Harrier, sir.'

I saluted him with my cup of kaf, emptied it and setting it down, waited until the launch was eased alongside. I dropped down into it, next to the ensign. We motored over to the Harrier's lowered rope and steel step ladder. The sea wasn't rough, so I waited only a moment or two for the hull to lean a little away, and quickly climbed up the ladder to the deck.

I saluted the officer of the watch who was waiting for me, and glancing up to the foreign ensign, I decided that I didn't have to salute that. The watch officer noted that with a resigned shrug, and said, 'This way, Lieutenant Lang. The Captain wants a brief word with you.'

He led me up to the captain's small office just aft of the low navigation bridge, knocked, and upon a muffled, 'Enter,' opened the door and ushered me in, closing it behind me.

Two steps carried me across the small cabin to the edge of Captain Nevis' neat desk, where I stood at attention and saluted, real navy style. 'Lieutenant Lang reporting, as ordered.'

He returned my salute, island style. 'At ease, Lieutenant,' he said, leaning back to study me for a moment or two. As I did him.

He was a rather nondescript naval officer – weathered and weary looking, with a closely trimmed beard showing grey. His shrewd eyes took me in, with veiled skepticism. His instincts told him something was fishy. Ah, but what?

'You have your tinplate, I take it?'

'Yes sir.'

'Rather unusual to carry that along on an "Admiralty" mission, isn't it?'

'I couldn't say, sir. This is not my usual line of work. But I'm not a spy, if that is what you mean. Not really...'

'Ah, huh. We'll get to that in a minute. Let's see your tinplate, Lieutenant.'

'Yes, sir,' I replied, reaching for it in my pocket and handing it over to him.

He studied it, and the etched-glass image of me it held, for some time.

'An LT Lieutenant. Are we that desperate now that Section 3 is sending LTs into the fray? No offense intended.'

'None taken, sir. As for your question, you can rest easy, sir. Section 3 is well supplied with career officers with far more experience than I, for our regular missions.'

'And just what is your mission?'

'I'm an archaeologist, sir. I'm serving my civic duty in the navy. As it so happened, Commander De Lore of Section 3, found that he was in need of someone with my expertise for a mission. He asked me if I cared to volunteer. He said that I'd be foolish to accept, but then offered me the chance to survey what might be a hitherto unknown Founders' ruin on a small uninhabited island. Foolish or not, that was not something I could pass up. And so, here I am.'

'Section 3 is sending out people to look at ruins?'

'Founders' ruins, sir. In an unimportant island group nominally controlled by Jalora Principality, but could be taken without a great deal of trouble if it was deemed desirable.'

'Is this your cover story, or is this for real?'

'It is for real, sir. An Intula Island trader put into this island during a storm, and did a little exploring. They came across a recent landslide that apparently peeled off a thick coating of dirt, moss, and debris on what appeared to be a large metallic object. As I am sure that you are aware, we would like to add the Intula Islanders to our list of reliable allies, so that investigating their report may not only bring us knowledge of a Founders' machine or ruin, but would please the Intula Prince by showing him that we were not only grateful for his report, but took it seriously enough to promptly followed up on it. It is all part of Department Seven and Section 3's mission, sir.'

'The name of this island?

'Invawa, sir.' I'd took the time to choose a small, far southern and inhabited island on the chart to name, and practiced my story, while I awaited my likely summons.

He toyed with my tinplate and considered me for a while in silence. I was familiar enough with the situation to know that the Intula Islands, though outside the Five Island Sea, were considered important enough to be courted. I was also fairly certain that the Harrier was never assigned to that island group, so I wasn't sweating. Much. Captain Nevis was too old in the service to accept just anything at face value, and yet too old in the service not to know that strange missions came out of Department Seven and Section 3.

'How did they happen to find you in all of the navy? And why you, besides your expertise?'

'I don't know who exactly realized that they had an actual archaeologist in house, so to speak, but someone did. And lo! It was someone who had been condensing and filing reports in Section 3 for several years. Someone, who was not only island born and raised, but very familiar with not only Section 3 type of operations, but with Section 3 operations in the Five Island Sea, making an extensive briefing unnecessary. Stranger things have happened, I guess. In any event, here I am, sir.'

He had a hard time believing that, but then, there I was.

He decided to try another tack.

'I gather that your crew consists of two young women. You seem to be a very lucky young man.'

'Yes, sir. And no, sir. They are the granddaughters of the Prince of Intula. Very proud, capable, and strong minded young ladies. Pleasant company, but not young ladies that invite too much familiarity. I have very strict orders, in that regard, sir.'

'The granddaughters of the Prince, you say?'

'Yes sir. So you can see the importance of the Aerlonian navy making a good impression all around.' Just a little hint.

He sighed, and gave up. Almost.

Shaking his head, he handed back my tinplate, said, 'Here. Take it. Be sure to drop it over the side if you happen to fall into the wrong hands. Good luck, Lieutenant.'

'Thank you, sir. I hope to find something very interesting. A new Founders' ruin would make my career,' I added eagerly, which was true enough, even if that was a little bit of acting.

'I suppose it might,' he said, still watching me closely. 'Oh, by the way, I haven't been to the Admiralty in some time now. How is Admiral Dew these days?'

'Still on duty, sir. I don't recall a day that I didn't say good morning and good night to him. They tell me he's been at his post since the founding and shows no sign of retiring.'

'Excellent. Give him my regards upon your safe return. Now be on your way.'

'I will. Thank you sir. Fair sailing, Captain.'

I had to smile, after I turned away, and stepped over to the door. "Admiral Dew" was the nickname of the ancient reception desk officer of the Admiralty, so the question was far from innocent.

'How did it go?' asked Sella after I had climbed back aboard the Night Song and told them to set the sails.

'You know, Sella, I'm getting quite concerned. I seem to be able to twist and bend the truth to my will like a true political officer. I think I've been around you too long.'

'Me? I never lie. When have I ever lied to you?'

I gave her a meaningful look and glanced to Lessie.

'There, you see, you can't come up with even one time,' she replied, cheerfully ignoring my implication.

'You're good. Really good,' I replied. 'But somehow you always seem to get your way, no matter what.'

'And just you remember that, Lieutenant.'

Chapter 15 Redoubt Island, Island of Sorrows

01

The rest of that day, night, and the following morning proved to be, thankfully, uneventful. We sailed through a sea nearly deserted. The only sails we saw were those of small fishing boats. Perhaps, after two years of war and raiding, neither the traders, nor the pirates who preyed on them, found any profit in sailing the Five Island Sea.

Shortly before noon, we spied the tip of a steeple-like spire that we took to be Redoubt Island. By late in my afternoon watch, we were well within the small island group that circled that very forbidding looking, black spire.

'I suggest that we circle the island to make certain it matches the map,' said Sella sitting on the windward cowing next to me.

Lessie, at the hatchway studying her island through the field glasses, said nothing.

'Lessie?'

'It is the one. Still, circle it. The trail to the Redoubt takes us almost entirely around the island. We might as well see what we'll be facing.'

'Right, then. Let's first find the small cove. We can look in on the cove without committing ourselves. The chart shows no reef, so take her in close, Taef. Let's take a good close look at what we're facing.'

I altered our course to bring us close to the towering black island. For black it was – a series of ascending black, lava peaks arranged around the central peak which arose from a steep, jungle fringed shore, Dark green fingers of the jungle followed the narrow valleys and twisting ravines upwards. The jungle looked to be almost as black as the rocky pinnacles that arose out of it, perhaps because of the singular lack of flowering vines and trees. Indeed, the whole island seemed to have a rather sinister air about it. No wonder it had a local reputation for being haunted. It was not a friendly island. Some islands are just like that.

As the chart indicated, like Dar Fu Island, Redoubt Island arose straight out of the sea like a fortress, without a fringe of beaches. It was, however, a much taller island and, as I mentioned, a more unfriendly looking one as well.

As we neared it, we discovered one of its more sinister features. Great flocks of large black sea birds, known in the islands as the birds-of-sorrows, swirled around its sharp peaks and out over the sea around it. Apparently it was a popular nesting island for these birds-of-sorrows. They are rather large seabirds, with a wingspan of up to two meters, long, crooked necks, and wicked beaks. They hunt fish by diving under the water, and eat the dead sea creatures that are washed up on the shore. They are notorious in the islands for their ill temper, and dangerous beak, especially when they get tangled in a fisherman's net. In island folklore, they are held to be the spirit homes of those who died unhappy. Every black feather is said to be a sorrow. As we neared the island, they certainly did not seem happy. They crisscrossed overhead, eyeing us with their red eyes and screeching unpleasant taunts.

Sella and I exchanged glances, but said nothing. Lessie's dream island seemed more like a nightmare than a dream.

'That looks to be the mouth of the cove,' said Sella, pointing as we glided by, a hundred meters off the shore.

Again, like Dar Fu Island, the cove appeared to be an old volcanic vent crater – a modest cove surrounded by steep crater walls and a black jungle. I didn't see any reef dragons in this one, however. I had a feeling that even they found this island too unpleasant to share with the birds-of-sorrows. The cove appeared to be right where it was shown to be on the Founders' little map, confirming to Sella and I that we had found the right island. Lessie likely never doubted it.

We continued on, ignoring the harsh taunts of the birds-of-sorrows, to circumnavigate the entire island. As we made our circuit, Lessie, with a copy of the directions in hand, stared at the towering island, pointing out features that seemed to match those described in the brief directions. 'That looks to be the ledge noted here, that's the peak noted here, there's the cleft that we follow up to reach the central crater,' she said with growing excitement, pointing out each of these features as they appeared, completely ignoring the unfriendly birds-of-sorrows that swirled around the island.

Sella cheered every discovery and I nodded my head and agreed – though the sinister black island had peaks, ledges, and clefts to spare. She flashed me a broad smile behind Lessie's back as if to say, "See, I told you she would be a different girl when she found her treasure."

An hour later, as we finished our tour of its western shore and were about to round the island to make for the cove, we came upon a tri-hulled, blue sailed, boat tacking down the other side of the island, as we had just done.

'Continue on,' snapped Lessie. 'We'll turn back only after it's out of sight. We don't want to attract any curious company.'

'Aye, aye,' I said, and adjusted our course and sails to continue on, away from the island as if we had just been passing it. We continued slowly on that course until the blue sailed boat was lost behind the island and the sea around us was clear of any other sails, save a tip or two to the west where the largest island of the group lay. Lessie took the tiller with her watch, and we came about and sailed once more for her sinister looking island. We reached the mouth of the small cove with only an hour of daylight to spare. Sella and I took in the sails, as Lessie, steered us in using the motor.

With the sun low in the west, hidden behind the island, the small cove was a pool of deep twilight. The tall, dark, jungle clad hills on either side added to its rather brooding air. As did the big, black birds-of-sorrows resting on the high branches. They watched us now, in brooding silence. As with all these deep, volcanic crater coves, we had to nose the boat right up to the bank to tie up, as it offered no bottom until we were under the arching cover of the overhanging batto and nanagrove trees. Since we wanted our presence in the cove to be kept a secret, we tied up against the shore of one of the outer arms, opposite the main island.

'That looks to be the ravine we start from,' said Lessie eagerly pointing across the cove as we ate our evening meal on deck. I was happy to see that she had become fully alive, even eager, despite the dismal aspects of the island. Her usual scowl was gone, and if it was not quite replaced with a smile, she looked far more attractive – bright, and determined – her eyes never leaving the dark jungle and black cliff that towered over us.

After the meal, we turned out the implements we had purchased in Dela Dare – the small folding shovels, spades, a spiky hammer, measuring sticks, lines and stakes, and divided them into three packs in the soft golden light of the oil lamps. We then added dry rations for three days. Perhaps because of the brooding air of the island, we decided to stand our usual watches. There was something about the island and cove that inspired an unacknowledged uneasiness in all of us. Though, perhaps, for Lessie, it was just excitement.

02

I shivered. It almost never gets cold in the Tropic Sea. The nights can grow almost cool in the early hours of the day, and sometimes a downpour will pull cold air down from aloft. But even so, it will be sweltering again within an hour after the storm. But the night air of Redoubt Island had a certain chill about it that had nothing to do with its temperature. It had everything to do with the atmosphere of the island.

I was standing my usual midnight to four watch by sitting against the mast and keeping my eyes open with a cup of kaf close at hand. I had the binnacle lantern lit, illuminating the outline of the cockpit aft. The jungle, arching overhead, hid the night sky. Out, across the cove, the deep, velvet black sky glittered with its diamond dust of stars. The black, lazily undulating water of the cove would occasionally toss up the glimmer of a star, but otherwise it was as black and silent as the night. An eerily silent night. The bird-of-sorrows were presumably sleeping, but the usual island chorus of insects and night birds were strangely silent, or missing entirely. It seemed, in the eerily chill hours of the new day, that Redoubt Island was not only the island of the birds-of-sorrows, but an island of sorrows.

It was the unusual silence that made the sudden sound of the surf along its outer shore seem so loud. It crashed, and crashed again. Looking to the mouth of the cove, I could see the white lines of breakers surging through the mouth of the cove, sending waves fanning out into the cove.

The Night Song began to rock, and then was lifted and flung against the roots of the nanagrove tree that we had tied up to.

A tsunami.

There was little I could do. The shores of the cove were jungle lined right down to the waterline, so we'd not be tossed far inland, should it be a large one, but... I didn't think it was wise to be tied to the tree roots at the old sea level, so I jumped down to the narrow deck, only to be tossed into those roots when the next wave hit, lifting the stern of the boat sharply and banging the boat into the roots. The wave surged over me, swishing through the roots. Luckily I ended up deep enough in them not to be crushed by Night Song. As it receded, I managed to grab its low railing and pull myself back onboard. I staggered to the bow. Drawing the knife from its sheath on my belt, I knelt and sawed away at the line anchoring us to the nanagrove roots. Another wave washed over me, tossing the boat once more against the roots as I managed to cut the line. We'd still be tossed against the trees, but at least not held under water by the bow line, should the waves get taller.

Both Sella and Lessie were out of the cabin and in the cockpit when the next wave struck – smaller than the one before.

'I've cut the line, we're free to get off the shore if we can!'

However, the next wave seemed a little smaller than the one before. We still banged against the tree roots, but with less violence. Still, we didn't want to risk the rudder or propeller being damaged, if it could be helped

'It looks like it's just a little one,' said Sella, as she started the engine.

She was right. It proved to be one of the common, garden variety of a meter or two high tsunami and within minutes the cove had once more settled into a smoothly undulating sheet of water lapping the shore with soft hisses.

'Would you run down and fetch Taef the torch. I'd like to find that rope he just cut. Ropes don't grow on trees, you know,' she added giving me an entirely theatrical scowl.

Sella backed the Night Song a little ways from the shore, until I collected the current torch from Lessie. She nudged the boat in, and I found the rope, though I had to climb into the roots to fetch it, and we tied up once more against the shore.

And so, wet, and even more chilled, I finished my watch, with the uncomfortable feeling that this unfriendly island had just issued a warning to us. In any event, the cool brooding silence returned. I was never happier to see the dim form of Lessie emerge from the hatch to relieve me. I wished her goodnight, and quietly made my way through the cabin, to tumble into the forecastle berth for an hour or two's worth of sleep.

03

Lessie turned us out at sunrise, and drove us hard to gulp down a hasty breakfast and mug of kaf. She finished early, and had the dinghy alongside by the time Sella and I had strapped on our revolvers, grabbed our packs, hats, and hiking sticks, to emerge from the cabin into the bright new day. The morning sun brought an improvement to the cove. It was, almost, pleasant looking – certainly striking, with the series of black lava peaks rising, bright in the morning sun, to the central spire from the jungle fringe far overhead.

We moved the Night Song away from the shore and anchored in deep water with enough cable to survive another small tsunami. That done, Lessie hustled us and our gear into the dinghy and rowed us across the cove. After pulling up and securing the dinghy, we shouldered our packs and set out. We had landed on a steeply sloping ravine near the center of the cove; black cliffs towered over us on either side. Ahead, a steep, rocky but mostly jungle-free slope rose towards another cliff further up. A trickle of a stream flowed down the center of the ravine.

Lessie had a larger copy of the Founder's map that she had made, and with it in one hand and a hiking stick in the other, started up as soon we had shouldered our packs. I couldn't help but notice that Sella, who usually dominated any company with her conversation and good cheer, was remarkably subdued. Oh, she was cheerful and helpful, but she appeared to be carefully playing a supporting role to her sister, who was now living her long held dream. I admired her for that.

'After you,' I said, with a sweep of my hand, and followed Sella, once she started after her sister.

We started up the bright, grassy slope along that thin trickle of water running over mossy rocks down the center of it. Where the shouldering rocks allowed, the jungle arched over us, though the center of the slope, with its little stream, remained clear of trees and underbrush. It did not take long for me to notice that flat rocks were conveniently placed to act as steps on steepest parts of the hill. Looking back and ahead, I could trace a slightly hollow path of sorts that zigzagged up the slope.

'Is it my imagination, or are we following an old path?' I called to the girls up ahead.

'I was wondering that myself,' said Sella, turning back. 'But then, since this is a sacred or haunted island it may have been used for some sort of ritual observance in the dark, old days. It doesn't look to be used much now, if at all. We'll have to see where it leads.'

We paused alongside the mossy little waterfall trickling down from the top of the cliff at the head of the ravine to consult the map, mop our sweaty brows, and catch our breaths. Overhead, flocks of birds-of-sorrows were flying out to sea, though some twirled down to land on the Night Song.

'We're going to have a mess to clean up when we return,' I said.

'Can't be helped,' snapped Lessie. 'Let's go on. We follow this cliff to the right.'

As did the faint path.

We followed it up a much narrower ravine between two black cliffs. As before, flat boulders were set into the steepest parts of the trail. Twenty minutes later, Sella and I were climbing the last several steps to reach a broad, sunlit ledge when Lessie, in the lead, stopped, stood, and staring out over the cove, uttered a curse.

We hurried to join her. Looking down on the cove we saw a tri-hull boat with a dark blue sail nosing into the cove.

'Isn't that the boat we saw yesterday?' said Sella.

'It could be,' I replied, cautiously, though intuition told me it was.

Lessie cursed again, and then sighed, 'Will I ever be allowed to succeed?'

'Of course!' exclaimed Sella. 'Tomorrow. But now we must go back down and guard the Night Song. We can't leave it unattended. Quickly, now.'

Neither Lessie or I argued. We turned back and raced down the steep slope as fast as we could without breaking our necks.

Even so, by the time we arrived back on the shore, the blue-sailed boat had anchored on the far side of the cove, away from the Night Song. They had launched their dinghy, and one of the sailors was rowing it over to the Night Song. By the time we launched our dinghy and were rowing back, he was standing in its cockpit watching us.

As we closed with the boat, though he wasn't wearing his uniform, we recognized the familiar form of Commander Tal Mey.

Sella hailed him, 'Ahoy, Commander!'

He waved, and as we pulled close, said, 'You can shoot me, if you want. I feel terrible enough as it is.'

'Why would we shoot you, Tal? What a delightful surprise,' exclaimed Sella, brightly. 'I am sorry that you are feeling so bad. Is there anything we can do, besides putting you out of your misery?'

'Can you allow me time to explain, and to apologize before you do so?'

'Why, of course. We've no intention of shooting you. Not until we hear what you have to apologize for, at least,' laughed Sella.

'Thank you. You may still want to shoot me, but I must take my chances.'

'Oh, you make it sound so serious, Tal. We're old friends. You saved our lives. We've not forgotten that. Let us get on board and you can make your confession.'

He was, indeed, looking very uneasy and embarrassed, when we climbed back onboard. Sella greeted him cheerfully. I shook his hand with smile and a nod. Lessie didn't shoot him.

'So tell us, what brings you to this lonely island, on this bright morning?'

'You, of course. Curiosity is my blessing, and my curse. But let me begin by saying that I know that I am entirely in the wrong. Airia tried to tell me I wasn't behaving properly, but you young people were simply too mysterious to let you slip out of my life as an unsolved mystery. I do not have, and never had, any sinister intentions. It was just my blasted curiosity – a curiosity that has driven me to crisscross the Tropic Sea for four decades seeking out mysteries, myths, and legends. And finding them, uncovering the facts behind them.

'One of those mysteries, which I have encountered, but not uncovered, was the legends and stories of the sorcerers of Vente. I've studied the Tropic Sea cultures for decades, collecting stories of these secretive sorcerers and their powerful magic. Not only the stories the islanders tell to frighten their naughty children, but the stories they tell to frighten themselves. Where there's smoke, there's a volcano, and after I stripped away the most outlandish aspects of these stories, I came to wonder if the basis of their powers lay not in the supernatural, but in the working relics of the Founders.

'Both continents, as well as many islands, have legends of the of the so-called Lost, or Last, Redoubt of the Founders. A place that survived the Great Wave and the following long descent into darkness. I have long toyed with the idea that the Vente may have access to such an outpost like the legendary Redoubt.

'I'm sure you can see where this is heading. I meet three young people, two of whom claim to be mysterious Vente. But as they are some four thousand kilometers away from those islands, it should be a claim that I could easily dismiss out of hand. Except I couldn't, and can't. While their yacht has some decorative characteristic features of the northern Tropic Sea islands, its design and oil engine are continental characteristics that are rarely found in the northern islands that I do know of. But in your cabin I spied a most inexplicable feature...'

'That being?'

'Three books with titles printed in Founders' text. I've never seen the ancient characters used on an island or continent. But, if the Vente were descendants from the legendary Last Redoubt... You can see where my thoughts ran to. And you can imagine how tempted I was to return to the Night Song when you weren't aboard, to give them a closer examination. But I resisted that impulse. Barely.'

'They're Taef's. He says that they're quite good stories. But then,' Sella added with a shrug, 'he's a big fan of Zar Lada, Boy Explorer, books as well, so I'm not sure he's the best judge of reading material.'

'But are they Vente books?'

'Yes. Our characters are our own. I gather they are closer to the ancient style than what is current on the continents.'

'Wonderful! But, I seem to have lost my chain of thought...'

'You were apologizing, or was it pleading for your life?' said Sella, with a smile, a Vente sorceress' smile.

'Both. But I guess there's not much else to say. You can see where this was leading. You, and your presence in these southern islands, was too much of a mystery to let go, unsolved. And with the Tropic coaling and taking on supplies for our journey home to Jacartha for a long refit, I had some time on my hands. I felt justified in taking an extra week or two to see what I could discover about you. We never sail on a schedule anyway. And so here I am.'

'As an intelligence officer of the Faldora Union Navy?' I asked.

He smiled and shrugged. 'Let's say that I used my privileges as such, but only to pursue my own island research. I never took you to be spies. Still, I had our people keep a watch on you, and when you sailed, I, fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, had access to a boat and a crew experienced in tracking ships without being seen. So I followed you.

'You can imagine how chagrined we were, when you not only doubled back to catch us at our own game, but then managed to lose us for a time, as well. It never occurred to me that you would be interested in the Isle of Sorrows. Though, given your archaeological training, I suppose that the Shrine of Sorrows, as Professor Var Denpar called it, might be of some interest.'

I nodded, but said nothing. The Shrine of Sorrows was news to me.

'I've not visited it myself. Indeed, I suspect that Denpar was the first and last continental scholar to visit and describe it. And that was a hundred years ago. I vaguely recall reading his brief account and sketches in my collection onboard the Tropic. It was likely a local island cult that had fallen out of fashion even when he was here.'

'Oh, we knew nothing about that. It is just that Taef can never pass by a red island without insisting that we explore it. He claims that all cursed, haunted, and taboo islands have ruins on them. That's what makes them cursed, haunted, or taboo,' laughed Sella. 'Our stopping here was purely on Taef's insistence. He was certain we'd find some sort of old ruin to explore, and I gather that he was right,' she added, effortlessly running with Mey's suggestion, much to my admiration and appreciation.

'I must admit that she's right. Cruising as we are, taking a day or two to explore a red island in search of whatever it has that gives it a local bad name, seems worthwhile. You never know what you'll find. Indeed, we hadn't gone far before we had noted an old path which we were following when we saw your boat entering the cove, and decided that we had best return. So we were bound for something called the Shrine of Sorrows, were we?'

He nodded, 'As I said, I've not visited it myself. But I seem to recall that it consists of a large statue – half natural, half carved – depicting the island's main feature, a birds-of-sorrows and some decorative carvings. I believe they used to sacrifice captives to it – though that died out long ago, as it has on most of the islands today.'

I turned to Sella, 'See, I told you. Never pass up a red island.'

'It sounds like something we wouldn't want to miss. But we still have time today, so no harm done. Perhaps you would care to join our little expedition?' she asked Mey.

'Why, yes. Of course, if you won't mind. I've forced myself on you already. I don't want to make matters worse.'

'Oh, we'll make a picnic of it. Why, with two archaeologists and a big statue of a birds-of-sorrows, we'll have such a jolly time! We'll give you time to pack some gear – pack some food, as we may have to spend the night if it proves interesting to you fellows. We'll can start as soon as you're ready.'

'Excellent,' he exclaimed, and climbed to the cockpit cowling to reach his dinghy, when he turned back and said. 'I really appreciate your understanding. I am truly sorry for what I've done.'

'Think nothing of it, Tal.'

As he rowed off, I turned to Sella. And jokingly asked, 'You're not planning to shove him off a cliff are you?'

'Why, my dear Taef, would you think that? Lessie, on the other hand,' she laughed, turning to Lessie, but found that she had silently slipped away, and now stood on the bow of the boat staring out over the cove. Sella frowned, and said very quietly. 'Go and talk to her, Taef. I suspect that she's very disappointed.'

'Why me?'

'She'll listen to you. She won't listen to me.'

'No she won't...'

'Oh, go, Taef. Don't be shy,' and adding in a louder voice. 'I'll make us a fresh pot of kaf, while we wait for Tal to get his gear together.'

She then gave me a shove to get me moving.

Reluctantly, I walked forward and stopped beside her. She paid no attention to me, but continued to stare at the golden cylinder she held in her hand.

'Do you want to talk?' I asked, quietly.

'No.'

'Then, I suppose I will. I know you're disappointed over the delay. But it's only for another day or two.'

'Oh, what's the point?' she sighed. 'Nothing ever goes right. I give up. I should just throw this cursed key into the sea and put it all behind me.'

'Why would you even think of doing that? Mey is just a minor snag. We go up and view this birds-of-sorrows shrine. Come back down, and we all sail away. We'll double back in a day or two to continue on your quest. He won't dare follow us any more.'

'Don't be an idiot,' she sighed.

'What do you mean?'

'Do you think Mey bought Sella's story? He's not an idiot.'

'Why would he doubt it?' I asked, though I have to admit that I shared some of her skepticism.

'He doesn't believe anything about us. He has to know that we're keeping something from him. And even if he doesn't return here tomorrow, and we do, and find the Redoubt, do you doubt that he'll be back to search for what we really came here for, sooner or later?' She gave me a darting glance.

'Ah...'

'Sella thinks that she can charm and talk her way out of everything. You think so as well. But, unlike you, Mey's not an idiot. He'll be back, find it, and will claim it all. But, perhaps, without the key, he may not be able to discover just what it is – not for a long time.'

'Perhaps. But you told me that it wasn't the treasure you were after. It was, well, simply solving the mystery and seeing it to the end. You can still do that...'

'Oh, why bother now? I found the key, I found the secret of opening it, I searched the Tropic Sea to find the exact island, and now I'm here. I've done all the work, but climbing the peak and turning the key. Do I really need to do that?'

'Yes, you do,' I replied, confidently. 'You need to see your dream to its end, so that you can go on with your life. You can't quit now.'

'This... This is not my dream. It didn't include Sella, it didn't include you, and it certainly didn't include Tal Mey. And yet, after all my efforts, you're all here to share in the discovery. Why should I share it? Why shouldn't I just toss this into the sea and forget about it?'

'Because...'I began cautiously, thinking furiously. I had a feeling this was more than dramatics. This was a personal crisis. A crisis of identity. I had a feeling that she could really toss it into this bottomless cove at this moment in time.

'Because?' she said in a low voice, still staring out over the cove.

'Because the moment it left your hand, you would instantly regret it – really, really regret it, and you know it. It has been a driving force in your life. It has been your identity separate from Sella. For years it has made you Lessie Raah, not one of the Raah twins, or Sella's sister. Toss it away now, and you could be tossing your future happiness away with it.'

'Oh, why not? What does that matter? Who cares?'

'I care. You're a friend, and I care about you,' I said. While it wasn't a lie, I also knew it could be a dangerous thing to say, since it was open to misinterpretation, so I hurried on; 'But there's more involved here than Lessie Raah. You're holding a legacy of the Raahs. Very likely a legacy of the Captains of Teraven going back thousands of years. It is a Founders' relic, after all. It may well have been entrusted to the first Captain of Teraven in the days of the Founders. It's simply not yours to toss away. It's yours to guard, and, perhaps, open a new chapter in the life of Teraven, the islands, and even the continents. It is a grave responsibility that you've assumed, and now you must live up to it. I can understand your frustration. But I also know that you are not some spoiled, spiteful girl who will betray the trust of 30 generations of Raahs in a moment of anger and disappointment.'

'I'm not? Oh, then what am I?' she said, turning to me and looking directly at me, and not through me, for perhaps the first time.

'You're the serious, thoughtful, and beautiful granddaughter of Vin Raah, Captain of Teraven,' I said throwing caution to the wind. I knew I couldn't spend even a moment in thought. 'You're smart, brave, and very determined. And you will always be remembered as the discoverer of the key of the Raahs and the Redoubt of the Founders.'

She turned away again, and didn't say anything for a moment, but she didn't toss the key into the sea either. And then, in a low voice I barely heard, 'It's my secret to reveal.'

'Yes, we know that. Today, we'll walk up to this Shrine of Sorrows, poke around a bit. Have a picnic, and, if necessary, sail away for a day or two before returning and continuing on your quest. Nothing, but a few days has been lost.'

'And then the Meys will come back, search this island from shore to peak and find what you say I was supposed to be guarding.'

'Perhaps. But that's not a given. They may never find the way to the Redoubt. However...' I paused, still thinking furiously. One crisis may have passed, but perhaps, just perhaps...'

'However, what? she sighed.

'However, I've been thinking that you might want to consider what happens after you turn that key. What happens after we come down from the peak.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, let's assume that we do find some sort of significant Founders' facility. What next? This island is probably too far from Teraven for Teravenians to exploit your discovery. You will have discovered an ancient Founders' site all on your own, but no one besides the three of us will ever know, unless the Meys do return and find it for themselves.'

'If you know about it, others will eventually know about it as well. It is your profession, after all. You won't, and probably couldn't, just let it remain unexploited.'

I shook my head. 'No. I consider it yours, and yours alone. You did all the work. It's yours. That's simply professional etiquette. Besides, I have Dar Fu to rediscover when the time is right. I don't need Redoubt island. It's yours, Lessie. But you might want to consider...' I paused to think of what I wanted to propose.

'Go on. I know that this is leading somewhere.'

'It occurs to me that together with Commander Mey here, we have representatives from the three continents. Whatever Meys may be in the Feldorian navy, I know for a fact that they freely publish, and share, their archaeological and historical research with the world. Unlike the Meys, I'm not famous within the archaeological field, though I know several of my university professors who are.

'Now, I'm thinking that if you were to include Tal Mey in our discoveries... If you were to work within the international archaeological community that transcends political rivalries, you could put together a multi-national research effort – the two continents, Teravenians, and the local island empire, and share the results with the entire world. This would insure that Teraven would have full access to whatever the site would produce, as would everyone else. It would be a win for all.

'And a win for you as well, since all the work you did to bring this discovery to light, would be known to all – in whatever detail you wanted. Lessie Raah would always be a part of the story of the site. I can't promise you fame and fortune, but your efforts would be remembered within the archaeologist field for ages to come. It's something every young would-be-archaeological dreams of. Trust me on that.

'I offer this only as something for you to think about. No decision has to be made before you know the scope your discovery. If it looks like something worth making into a joint project, we can always sail back to Dela Dare and bring the Meys in.'

She didn't say anything.

'Will you think about it?'

She nodded, yes.

'Good. You know, I bet the kaf is ready. Would you like me to bring a cup up for you?'

'If you like.'

'Right then. I'll be right back,' I said and stepped aft.

'How's it going?' whispered Sella after I stepped down into the cabin.

'I think I've talked her out of tossing the key into the cove. She was pretty upset. I think I've given her something to think about. But who knows?'

'But she's not furious?'

'No,' I said, 'Upset that nothing has gone as she dreamed it would, but more despondent than angry.'

'Good work, Taef. You're just what she needs,' she said as she handed me two mugs of kaf.

I gave her a dark look, and climbed back up to the deck. Lessie, had taken a seat on the sail next to the mast. I handed her the mug of kaf and asked, 'Do you want to be alone?'

'It doesn't matter.'

Not the answer I expected. She was never shy about letting me know when she didn't want me around. So this reply was, almost, a request to keep her company. It made me nervous. But what could I do, but take a seat on the sail as well, not all that close, and sip my kaf in silence? Across the cove, I watched Mey gathering his gear and briefing his crew.

Chapter 16 The Shrine of Sorrows

01

I downed the last of my kaf, as Mey was rowed alongside by one of his crew.

'All set!' he called out cheerfully. 'How long do you plan to spend on the dig?'

I shrugged. 'Hard to say. We packed enough food to spend to a day or two on the island, if we found it interesting enough.'

'Excellent, excellent! I don't think Denpar spent a lot of time here. His description is very brief. It might pay to spend some time and do some real work. And your are right, you never know just what you'll find,' he said, and turning to the oarsman, added, 'Give us a couple of days before you start worrying. '

'Right, then,' I replied, and turned to Lessie, 'Shall we get your expedition underway again?'

She gave me a sidelong look, finished her kaf, and said, 'Yes.'

We landed on the island and, shouldering our packs, started up the slope once more. This time, Lessie hung back, letting Sella and Mey take the lead. They chatted cheerfully, for as long as they had the breath to do so. I stayed back with Lessie. We, however, didn't talk. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, and ignored me. I was fine with that.

As before, we followed the faint path upwards, coming to, and passing, the ledge where our first attempt had ended. The path continued to wind its way through narrow clefts between the peaks, and across the steep slopes of their outer edges. With our frequent rest stops, it took us almost two hours to reach its end.

The end came suddenly, at the turning of a sharp bend in the narrow cleft between two cliffs. We stepped out onto a flat, round natural, arena of sorts, perhaps 30 meters around. It was surrounded on three sides by tall, vine draped cliffs. The open side faced outward, to the sky, and sea, far below. In the center of this space stood a great black boulder, more than twice the height of a man. The boulder had three lumps or peaks; two sharp ones on either side and a slightly higher, more rounded one in the center. The two side peaks had been carved to make them resemble the outstretched wings of a bird-of-sorrows just before it takes to flight. Feathers had been rather crudely etched into the rock's surface. The center hump had been shaped to represent the head of a bird-of-sorrows, turned in profile to reveal its long beak and one eye. Its long, crooked, neck was carved in slight relief below it. It was an impressive work – primitive, but seemed to capture the rough spirit of its subject. Even without the alterations, it was easy to see how the boulder would've resembled a bird-of-sorrows. Unfortunately, we were not alone. Its worshipers were present and they were not welcoming.

The thirty or forty birds-of-sorrows surrounding their stone image immediately objected to our presence with loud, harsh squawks, beady red eyes, and wings extended to make them look very large and dangerous.

'Oh my!' exclaimed Mey as we filed in beside him. 'What a wonderfully primitive work! As crude as it is, it seems to capture the form, and indeed the essence, of a bird-of-sorrows.' And over the loud protests of the living birds it captured the essence of, he added, 'Though it appears that we have crashed some sort of service or celebration. We don't seem too welcome.'

'Indeed,' I remarked, loudly, keeping a careful eye on the unwelcoming flock of birds-of-sorrows. They had not taken to the air, like one would've expected them to. Instead they held their ground, and protested our presence in a chorus of rasping calls, all the while glaring at us with their red eyes and flapping their wide wings angrily, And even as we stood there, more were arriving. I could see more big black birds gathering along the edge of the surrounding cliffs, and soaring across the sky overhead.

'They do seem rather bold for their kind. I've never known them not to take flight when approached,' Mey allowed, adding with a glance to us, 'Let's see if we can shoo them off so we can study this remarkable statue.'

He took several steps forward.

They clearly had no intention of being shooed off. The closest ones spread their wings, raised their long necks, opened their sharp beaks, and eyed Mey with their angry red eyes, daring him to come just a little closer. Indeed, they edged a little closer to us.

He paused, shook his head, and retreated. 'Hmmm, I have a feeling we now know why old Denpar's sketch and description of this remarkable site was so brief. Still, we should be able to deal with them. They're not reef dragons.'

He was, right, of course, birds-of-sorrows were not reef dragons. They were merely your garden variety of seabirds, if on the large side. They generally didn't bother anyone larger than a kelpfish or something already dead. The only time they were dangerous was when they got caught in a fishing net. Then, well, trying to get them untangled was almost impossible, since their beaks were long, sharp and they had a willingness to use them. And when angry, they regurgitated their foul smelling stomach contents, and spat it at whoever made them angry. Fishermen unlucky enough to net them, usually just stabbed them with long spears.

'Oh, let's get on with it! Just shoo them away,' said Lessie impatiently.

I quickly glanced aside and gave her a questioning look. There was no reason to shoo them away, not now, at least. Not if we wanted to send Mey on his way. This was the perfect excuse to cut this expedition short, and turn back.

She ignored my unspoken question. Perhaps she had forgotten our plan.

So I spoke up. 'They seem to be daring us to try. I for one, am not inclined to take their dare. They seem pretty determined to defend their god. How much more can we add to Denpar's notes from here?'

'Oh come now, Taef. You're not afraid of a few birds-of-sorrows, are you?' laughed Sella.

'Yes I am. This gang, anyway. They have beaks, and seem more than willing to use them. And I also don't relish the thought of fifty birds-of-sorrows spitting regurgitated fish at me.'

'What about you, Commander Mey? Are you frightened of them as well?'

'Normally not. But in this case, well, they seemed to have taken a rather territorial attitude to their statue. Perhaps it is some sort of ancient ritual. Perhaps they expect to get fed.'

Sella laughed, 'Fed? Did anyone bring any fish to feed the birds?'

'I suspect that a couple of hundred years ago, they collected here for more than fish. Back then there were many island cults that offered sacrifices to the local gods. Sometimes it was animals, and sometimes people, captured enemies or criminals. Of course, almost all of those practices have died out. But perhaps that old ritual became so ingrained into the behavior of these birds that they still expect something to eat when the see people on this island. Our arrival certainly seems to have attracted a lot of attention.'

We had. A black cloud of big birds-of-sorrows was circling overhead to land on the rocks and trees surrounding the clearing. But curiously enough, not on the statue of the bird-of-sorrows.

'Then I guess we have no option, but to turn back,' Sella said, and turning to Lessie, added. 'Do you agree?'

Lessie didn't hesitate. She must have been considering it all the way here. 'No. We'll push on. We'll see what we came here to see. Mey can tag along for the ride. Gunshots should scare them away long enough for us to reach the far side.' She drew her revolver.

Sella stared at her sister for a moment, and then nodded. She turned to Mey at her side, and said, 'We believe there is another ancient site upon this island that might interest you. Lessie has just invited you to accompany us, as a guest. It is her find.'

He turned to Sella, and then Lessie, and gave them questioning looks.

Lessie merely nodded

Looking very serious, he nodded and said, 'Thank you. I would be delighted to accompany you – as an observer. I freely acknowledged that is your find, and yours to do with as you want. I promise to respect all your conditions. I assure you that you need not worry about me; I have more than my share of fame.'

Lessie shrugged. 'We shall see what it involves. However, according to my map, if we're to find anything at all, we must get past these birds. The route continues through that opening in the cliff beyond the statue.'

'Gunfire might alarm Tal's crew below. Perhaps if we spread out and all of us tried to shoo them off it might work. We only need a clear path and a few seconds to dash across to the other side,' Sella said, and then whipping off her hat and spreading her arms exclaimed, 'Shoo, you birds!'

Instantly, they all fell silent.

'Huh?' I exclaimed looking around. Everyone, and I'm including all the birds-of-sorrows in "everyone" was staring at Sella.

She looked around at the silent, intense birds, and giggled. 'It seems that I have some sort of unknown power over birds-of-sorrows.'

It did, indeed.

Boldly, she tested that power by taking several steps forward. Silently, the birds-of-sorrows shuffled back, away from her, their red eyes following her every move.

'It's not an unknown power,' said Lessie, looking about. 'It's your black hair, sister. It's as black as a bird-of-sorrows' feather. They have accepted you as one of their own!'

Sella glanced back, laughed, 'You must be right. Follow me,' she added, taking another step forward. The silent birds continued to retreat.

'I don't really know what's going on here, I must admit,' said Mey, drawing his revolver, just to be safe, while following closely behind Sella. 'But whatever it is, let's take advantage of it. Quickly, follow Sella. Where do we need to go, Lessie?'

'Straight on ahead, across to that island-side opening in the cliff.'

I drew my revolver as well, afraid that the strange spell would suddenly break and we'd have the whole flock of birds-of-sorrows on us in a flash. But Sella was now the queen of the birds-of-sorrows, and walked confidently ahead, talking quietly to her subjects. Who, in turn, continued to shuffle meekly out of her way.

We quickly walked behind the statue and made it to the far side without incident.

'I don't believe that,' I muttered, as we entered another narrow passageway.

'I don't either,' Mey called back. 'It almost seems like they have some sort of ingrained memory of the past. Perhaps the priests or priestesses of this temple all had black hair. But that doesn't really make any sense. That's an island explanation. But for the life of me, I can't come up with a better one.'

'My sister has always been proud of her black hair. Now we know why,' said Lessie without looking back. 'It is as black as a bird-of-sorrows' feather.

Sella laughed. 'It seems that all my sorrows are in my hair; perhaps that is why I am so cheerful.'

Once in the narrow passage between the cliffs, we left the birds behind, and continued up the narrow path, which turned into a narrow ledge that wrapped around a tall, steep cliff.

'We seem to have left the old path behind. There's been no sign of it since leaving the shrine,' said Mey, perhaps ten minutes later, when we stopped to rest on the steep slope that, not far below us, fell straight down to the sea. 'May I ask, where we are going?'

'To the crater at the very top of the highest peak. I have a route map. Follow me,' replied Lessie, taking the lead now. Having made her decision, her subdued cheerfulness, and eagerness had returned.

'And what do you expect to find there?' he asked, as we fell behind her.

'A Founders' facility. Perhaps the Last Redoubt.'

'Oh, my!' exclaimed Mey. 'Oh, my!'

We carried on for another half of an hour before reaching some relatively level ground and calling a halt for lunch. After our meal, we rested for the better part of an hour, since it appeared that were about two thirds of the way to the top.

That final third, however, proved to be the most difficult part of the journey, as it involved several hard scrambles up steep slopes on our hands and knees. At other times, we were traversing ledges so narrow that I had to walk with my shoulder brushing the cliff while the outer edge was close enough that I could easily see down to its distant bottom, and inevitably, imagine slipping over. Further down and away, I could see the small cove, with its two boats, like toys in a puddle. But for the most part, I kept my eyes on Lessie's backpack before me and hoped that she had a head for heights. There were several spots along this narrow ledge where we had to scramble up to a higher section, but in reality, there was nothing too dangerous – just very uncomfortable.

We had circled halfway around the central peak, to its west side, when we reached, what Lessie assured us, was the last stretch – a narrow, dark shadowed, fissure in the towering cliff of the central peak. It had a trickle of water running down through it.

'I don't think you'd want to be here in a storm,' I remarked as we started in.

'I'll remember that,' snapped Lessie, striding into the mossy, dark, and very slippery passage.

'Just thinking out loud.'

'Don't.'

From the back I couldn't tell if her reply was ill tempered, or an attempt at humor.

The damp fissure was so narrow in spots, that we had to slip off our packs in order to squeeze through the slick gap between the moss covered rock walls. After fifteen minutes of splashing, climbing, and scraping through this fissure, we followed Lessie out and onto the grassy central crater of Redoubt Island, otherwise known as the Island of Sorrows, damp, green-stained, and somewhat worse for wear.

The central crater was perhaps a hundred meters around, that was enclosed on three sides by the tall, nearly perpendicular spires that formed the island's steeple-like peak. At their highest, they towered another hundred meters above the crater. However, they tapered down and disappeared altogether as they circled around to the west, leaving a gap that was open to the sky and the low, golden sun, just above the neighboring island. At the foot of these tall cliffs was a narrow pond which supplied the trickle of water we had been splashing through. Otherwise, the crater was a smooth, treeless expanse of rough, turfy grass that fell towards the open side of the crater. It had one, and only one feature: a small building.

It could just be seen over the wind blown grass. It looked to be round and topped by a low, concrete dome.

'That's definitely a Founders' structure. The rest of them are no doubt buried,' I said, putting the best spin I could on it. 'Let's have a closer look.'

Lessie started off, without a word. We followed.

Chapter 17 The Founders' Redoubt

01

We made our way down through the wind tossed grass, golden in the light of the setting sun. Rounding the curve of the little hill and starting down, the building proved to be a low tower, perhaps ten meters across and four high, on its outward facing, western side.

On reaching the stubby tower we circled around to its warmly lit western face. It seemed featureless. It was, however, made from a concrete that used local stones, as was the Founders' custom.

Mey stood and silently stared back up the hill for a while.

'No sign of any ruins under the grass,' he mused, and then added, 'But I can't help thinking that the hill looks too perfect to be natural,' He then raised his hand and pointed, 'And those bare spots look more like concrete than natural rocks. I wonder if there is a single large domed structure under the grass. If that is the case, this might be the entry way.'

'Why, I believe you're right!' I exclaimed, looking back up the hill. All of the places where the wind had blown bare of grass seemed to show a smooth dark stone, different from the surrounding lava peaks. 'Why, I'm so sure of it, I don't even think we need to walk up and examine those patches.'

'So am I. That being the case, the door would be here, buried under 4,000 years of drifting volcanic ash. Let's hope it's not ten meters down. Only one way to find out,' he added eagerly, as he knelt and slipped off his pack, to unstrap the short shovel attached to it.

Caught up in his excitement, I followed suit, and within a minute we were digging chunks of turf and black, ashy dirt away from the outward facing bottom of the tower. We were in luck. The first few shovelfuls hinted at a hollow, and a few more offered a glimpse of the top of a metal door set into the concrete, greatly encouraging our efforts. Lessie and Sella joined in, shifting the dirt we flung back further away. With a half an hour of shoveling, we had cleared away the upper half of a golden metal door, and, more importantly, an ornate golden metal plate set in the concrete of the wall.

'This plate must be used to open the door,' I said, sitting back, and wiping the sweat from my brow. 'We have a key, but I don't see a keyhole. And it doesn't seem to want to move...' I added as I brushed away the last of the dust and tried pushing it this way and that without success.

'Let me see,' said Lessie.

Mey and I backed away to let her examine it.

She did something to it, and it snapped open.

'How'd you do that?'

'It works on the same principle as the key holder,' she replied, absently, and then added, 'There's a keyhole inside.'

She stared at it for several seconds, before drawing a breath, and then lifting the golden cylinder out from under her shirt and over her head. Bending close, she did something to the golden cylinder to open it, and withdrew the thin rod within it.

She turned to Mey. 'This artifact has been kept by our family for ages – perhaps since the founding. It was lost until Sella and I found it in a secret compartment of an old desk. I have made it my mission to discover what it is, and this is were my efforts have led me. This is, according to a note within this case, is called the Redoubt Facility. Does anyone have any objection to me trying this key in this door?'

Mey muttered, 'Oh, my...' while we looked at each other, and...

'Just open it, Lessie,' said Sella. 'That's what we've come this far to do. Let's see what you've discovered.'

She shoved the key into the small hole and gave it a little twist. Nothing happened for a second or two, and then the metal door began to slide aside, grinding slightly, to reveal a profound darkness beyond. And yet, by the time it had opened completely, there was a flickering of light coming from the doorway, that grew brighter as the seconds ticked by.

Since we had only cleared the top half of the door way, we gathered around on our knees to peer in. All we could see was a metallic grid that had light shining up through it.

Lessie took a breath, removed the key, and turning about, dropped down onto the grid, and started forward. Sella gave me a glance, so I followed suit.

The air smelled stale, cool, unused.

Lessie was already walking deeper in, so I followed.

The platform circled around what was likely a lift shaft since it had a metal door facing us. Around the back side of the lift shaft was a set of stairs leading downwards. Lessie was already starting down them, so I followed her, as Sella and Mey jumped down onto the platform behind me. We circled the lift shaft twice to reach a broad platform that opened onto a great domed space, very much like the dome on the island of Dar Fu. There wasn't a pool in this one, so no reef dragons. This one, however, did have working lighting – glowing panels set around the base of the dome. Looking up, I could see an arrangement of metal panels on rails at the top of the dome that likely could be opened. The Founders had flying machines, so it may have been a door for them to fly in and out of. The floor of the great chamber stretched ahead of us, fifty meters or more across. It was entirely bare. Whatever it had been built to house was no longer here.

We silently looked about, I, at least, in a confusing mixture of awe at one level and disappointment at another. Glancing at Lessie, beside me, I couldn't imagine what she was feeling.

'This is certainly no ruin,' I said to her quietly, 'You've taken us to a working Founders' facility. There's nothing like this in the world.'

'There is. The Residence at home is built around a similar Founder's facility. And we still have some of their great machines – though they're just museum pieces now,' she replied quietly, without looking at me.

'That's there. This is here. And this can be shown to the whole world. That makes a great difference,' I replied, carefully. And then added, 'But we're certainly not seeing all of it. For starters, I would think that you would need some sort of dynamo room to generate the current for the lights. Let's go down and see what we can find.'

She shrugged. 'If you like.' And started off down a second set of metal stairs.

Our footfalls on the metal steps echoed through the great chamber as we made our way to its floor. There was nothing more to see from the floor than what we'd seen from above. We didn't care to venture too far, but just hung around the platform. At first, I didn't even see any doors along the walls, but then Mey pointed out a large metal plate in the floor on its far side, suggesting that there was much more to this facility than this big, empty barn.

Lessie seemed lost in thought, so Sella said, 'What do you say we put off further exploration until tomorrow? It's getting late and I'm getting hungry. If you want, we can collect our gear, and camp in here tonight.'

None of us cared to do that, so we trooped out, closed the door behind us with a twist of the key, and set up camp a good distance below the entry tower, in a hollow between some low, grassy ridges or dunes.

02

We made a pot of island soup on a small oil stove, and then brewed a pot of kaf, using water from the pool under the cliff. As we ate, we talked about what we had discovered, and what we might discover tomorrow, and in the years to come. We, meaning Sella, Mey, and myself. Lessie said little. After our meal, as we lounged against a long, grassy dune in the last glow of sunset, the aches and sore muscles from our long climb began to make themselves known.

Lessie rose and walked down to the edge of the cliff, to sit alone.

As it grew dark, Sella leaned over to me and whispered, 'Keep her company, Taef.'

'Why? She wants to be alone.'

'She can be alone with you. Go. Don't always be so shy, Taef.'

I shook my head and said firmly, 'Sorry. No. You keep her company.'

'Please, Taef?'

I sighed, and climbed to my feet, with a stifled groan, and walked down to the edge of the cliff. I needed to develop some backbone when it came to Sella.

I settled next to Lessie, but not too close. Just close enough to keep her company, within the broad meaning of the word. The western sky still faintly glowed yellow and green, but overhead, the stars were out. Below, the sea was dark, and on the nearest island, I could see specks of lamp lights from the villages, here and there. The birds-of-sorrows had settled in for the night, so only the whisper of the wind broke the silence.

'You don't have to do everything she tells you to,' said Lessie quietly, after a while, and without looking at me.

'I was telling myself just that, a moment ago.'

'I don't need company. I'm fine. Go back.'

'She'll be angry with me if I do.'

'I'll be angry with you, if you don't.'

'It looks to be a game I can't win, so I think I'll just stay here and annoy you.'

'Why?'

'Because it hurts to move.'

That didn't seem to amuse her, so I got a little serious. 'Then how about this; because we're friends – on your terms. No pity. We don't have to do much, or anything together...'

'Then, as a friend, go away.'

I laughed. 'No. Just ignore me, as a friend.'

She did.

After a while, I spoke again. 'Are you disappointed?'

'No. I'm relieved that my quest is over. It was never about a treasure. It was about doing something on my own. I've accomplished that, or as much of it as I likely would ever have been allowed to do. Now I'm free.'

'To do what?'

She didn't reply.

'You realize, I'm sure, that this is a wonderful treasure. We've only scratched the surface of the treasure here. I'm certain that there is more than one level to this facility. And given its perfect condition, it may well be a treasure trove of Founders' artifacts, all in perfect condition and possibly even in working order. This is something far more than an archaeological find. And it's yours.'

She shook her head. 'No. Not mine. Not anymore. I'll leave all that to you, Sella, and Mey. As far as I'm concerned, we can head back down tomorrow. All of you can begin planning on how to develop this site without me.'

I gave her a long look, in profile, of course, because she was ignoring me. It was hard to tell exactly, but I didn't think she was scowling. Not smiling either. But then she almost never looked happy. Perhaps "thoughtful" might describe her expression. Or lost. I was sorry her quest hadn't seemed to change her all that much. Then, I reminded myself, be careful what you wish for.

'We can talk more about that tomorrow,' I said.

03

I awoke as the glowing sky of the new day washed over the peaks behind us. Lessie was up and had the little stove going with a kaf pot on it, steaming.

'Good morning, Lessie,' I said, sitting up and stretching my aching muscles. 'That kaf smells wonderful.'

She may've nodded an acknowledgment.

Mey looked to be up and about already. He returned a few minutes later with a canvas bucket of water from the pool for a second pot of kaf. Sella, beyond Lessie, was stretching as well, tossing off the light cover that kept the dew from soaking us over night.

We had just divided the first small pot four ways, and put more water on to boil, when Sella exclaimed, 'What! Who?' as she shot to her feet to stare up the hill.

I twisted around, and saw, in the shadow of the eastern cliffs, five, rather formally dressed people walking down through the dew-damp grass towards us. They were led by a white-haired woman of advanced years.

We were all standing and staring, by the time they reached us and stopped.

'Good morning,' said the white-haired lady with a smile and an accent so heavy that it took me a moment to realize what she said.

'Good morning,' replied the always nimble Sella, with a cheerful smile. 'I'm afraid that we've already divided our first pot of kaf, but we have a second one brewing. Would you care to join us?'

It was clear that Sella's rather unexpected reply had her puzzled for a moment or two. But then she nodded, and said, a little clearer, 'Why thank you. It smells heavenly. But first, may I ask who you are? And why are you here?'

Sella laughed, and said, 'Why, I was about to ask you the same thing. We thought that we had this island to ourselves. We didn't see anyone on our way up.'

Again, it took her a second or two to translate Sella's accent. When she had unraveled it, she nodded, and said, even clearer now, 'We are from the facility. You called on us yesterday.'

I, and no doubt we all, stared at them. I couldn't believe that. But I could think of no other explanation.

'Perhaps I should introduce myself and my watch crew,' continued the woman, seeing that we were stunned. 'I am Karivara Dar,' and proceeded to introduce the four younger people who stood slightly behind her – two men and two women. 'We, as I said, are from the facility. We were, ah, asleep when you called. I am very curious as to who you are, and how is it that you have called on us.'

But Sella, recovering quickly, was having none of that. She liked to be in charge, so she ignored the question and instead asked, 'Karivara Dar is the name of the Captain of the Settlement mother ship Terra Venture. Are you named after her?'

'I am her,' the white haired lady said simply. Adding, to herself, 'So we're not forgotten.'

'That would make you more than 4500 years old,' I said, finding my voice. 'That's impossible.'

She looked to me and smiled a little sadly. 'There are two schools of thought about my age. As a matter of fact, I was born some 14,000 years ago on Europa. I spent some sixty years traveling in space ships between the planets and moons of the Terra System. And then after being appointed captain of the settlement ship Terra Venture, bound for Dara lll along with our two other ships, I spent 9,373 years in a stasis chamber. Which is to say, in a rather quantum state – neither dead nor alive – but held, or frozen so deeply, that even the atoms of my body barely moved. Think of it as a very deep sleep. Once we arrived, I awoke and then spent a hundred years helping to introduce and establish humans on this world. I, and my fellow captains, then turned the reigns over to the first generation of Darians and retired. I was called back into service some twenty years later, soon after the great disaster. I worked for ten years trying to keep everything we had built together, before returning to a stasis chamber until I was awoken yesterday.

'So, am I 15,000 years old or am I merely 191 years old, counting only the years that I was fully alive and breathing?' she asked with a faint smile.

'We count the time we're asleep as part of our age... But I suppose that's not quite the same thing. And it's not important. What is, is that you've been, ah, asleep ever since shortly after the Great Wave, and now, somehow, we seemed to have awoken you. For some reason...'

'Yes, with the turn of the key, that you apparently possess. When you opened the door to the facility, it began a process that revived me and my watch crew here.

'But I suppose I owe you a longer answer than that. And that answer is that we've been here for a long time, waiting for that key to be turned. As you may, perhaps, know, a great tsunami, almost half a kilometer high, washed City One – the heart of the newly established colony – into the sea. I wasn't there, but I was devastated anyway. It had been a terrible miscalculation to have placed all of our technology in one locale, and in that steep sided, funnel shaped bay. But there was nothing to be done about that after the whole city was swept into the bay. With so many key people lost, I was called back to service to help direct our recovery efforts.

'We hoped to be able to recover from the sea bed enough of our machines and technology to get the colony back on track. However, it was estimated that, with the personnel and equipment we had left to do that job, the project would take upwards of a hundred years to complete. And, with so many of the younger scientists and engineers lost with City One, the burden of restoring those machines would fall on my generation. However, a hundred years would take us well past the time we had left to live, in our natural lives.

'So this facility, known as the Redoubt, was built, at this remote site to keep it safe, come what may, and equipped with the remaining stasis chambers. I was given command of it. And then I, and 136 senior scientists and engineers, were once again laid to rest in stasis chambers, to be preserved until the time when enough of the lost machines were recovered that our expertise could be put to work reestablishing the key technologies of the colony.'

Here she paused, Looked about, and then continued, 'However, I gather that our clocks were correct and that close to 4,500 years have passed since we were put in stasis. It would seem that the efforts to restore City One failed.'

'City One was never rebuilt, though I cannot say much more than that with certainty. What we know of the Founders, is a mix of legends and, more recently, the archaeological studies of the few remaining ruins of the original Founders,' I replied almost automatically, while I tried to grasp the full implications of what Captain Dar had just revealed.

Captain Dar, sighed. 'Oh, well. Here we are. And so are you, so it seems that all was not lost.'

Sella, who had been staring intently at Captain Dar, stepped forward. 'Are you really Karivara Dar, the mother of Kit Raah, of the Teraven Station?' she asked, quietly, almost undaunted by meeting a long dead, but now, apparently, a living, legend.

Captain Dar nodded, 'I am.'

Sella laughed, clapped her hand and stepped forward to embrace Captain Dar, kissing her on both cheeks. 'I am so happy to meet you, Great-Grandmother!' she exclaimed stepping back and beaming happily at her. 'My name is Sella Raah. Lessie here,' she glanced back to Lessie, standing quietly behind her, 'is my twin sister. We are your great granddaughters, many times great!' she laughed. 'Our grandfather, Vin Raah is Captain of Teraven Station. The Raahs have been the Captain of Teraven Station, since your son took command of it. It has been a hereditary position down through the centuries. For 4,500 years the Raahs have kept the faith, Great-Grandmother! I am so amazed and happy to meet my first grandmother!'

It is amazing how Sella could so easily take charge of any situation with goodwill and enthusiasm. Even standing next to a living legend, her brightness dominated the scene.

Captain Dar watched her with first wonder, and then smiled. 'Yes, you are certainly a Dar and a Raah,' she muttered, and pulled her close once again to kiss her on the cheeks as well, before beckoning Lessie to approach. She did so, much more shyly, and was embraced as well.

'And who are these gentlemen?' asked Captain Dar, as the girls stepped back.

Sella did the honors. 'This is our friend, Commander Loutal Mey of the Feldorian Navy, that is the nation of the southeast continent. He is a highly regarded historian and archaeologist of the Tropic Sea islands. And this young man is Lieutenant, Limited Time,' she added with a gay laugh, 'Taef Lang, of the Aerlonian navy, which is to say the nation of the southwest continent. He is a boy island explorer.'

'I am also an archaeologist. Your granddaughter likes to tease.'

Sella laughed, and continued on, explaining how they came upon the golden key...'We added Taef and Tal here, along the way... And well, here we are.'

'Indeed,' said Captain Dar. 'Indeed. I hope that we have awakened upon a world that I will be proud to call my own.'

'Oh, I believe that while you will find your world, while not without its warts, is on the whole doing quite well, considering our unfortunate start,' said Sella. 'Though, I must admit, it's taken us a while...'

Captain Dar sighed, 'We have so much to catch up on. And we haven't even had breakfast yet. Will you join us? We have much to discuss. So much to learn.'

Chapter 18 The Dream of the Redoubt

01

I looked astern. The spire of Redoubt Island, or the Island of Sorrows, was already sunk beneath the horizon. It could've been a dream. It certainly felt like a dream. The blue sail of Mey's boat, dark in the moonlight, was ahead and leading the way. We were bound for Dela Dare, after having spent just three days on Redoubt Island. As I said, the whole experience had the air of a dream, so please forgive me if I relate it in the jumbled fashion of a half remembered dream.

We spent the first day, deep in the bowels of a working Founders' facility talking. We started talking over breakfast. A breakfast that was made by a machine – not island food, but better than the dry rations we had brought along – and then spent the rest of the day talking to Captain Dar, and her crew. However, by the midday meal, a dozen other elderly men and women had been revived and had joined the party. Captain Dar introduced them as her department heads. They had been revived to hear our description of our world in order to decide their course of action.

It was all a strange, wonderful, and in some ways, an uncomfortable experience.

In the first place, we found ourselves in a perfectly working Founders' facility full of wonders – from the machine that produced our meals to the little machines that recorded not only our voices, but our pictures as we talked. Everything was conducted underground, in the cool, windowless, world that seemed natural to them, but vaguely oppressive to us.

The Founders themselves were much like us – though there was a certain air about them that is hard to describe. Perhaps I can put it best, if I say that despite the fact that they were our ancestors, the founders of our world, they seemed not quite of our world. As indeed, they weren't. All of them had been born on the various worlds and moons of a star in our sky. And all of them, so very, very long ago. Their spoken language, like their written one, was now almost unintelligible to us. However, with the help of a small watch-like device they wore on their wrist, they quickly adopted to the "modern" version of their own language – when talking to us, at least.

As I said, we talked. We were "debriefed" together and separately in order to give them an idea of how their world had evolved, and if, and how, they might fit into it.

We could ask questions as well. We learned that the great chamber, the hangar, as they called it, was once filled with machines. Apparently at some point, all of them were needed and withdrawn without awakening the sleepers. The directions to the Redoubt from the cove were added to the map when it was realized that there were no longer flying machines that could reach the Redoubt from the air.

I mentioned our discovery of the Founders' dome on Dar Fu. Captain Dar said that it was one of the ocean survey stations that were established before the humans went down to the planet. She said that during the first 25 years, "in orbit" machines were used to study the planet from the top of the clouds to the depths of the ocean. This information was then used to make a medicine for the 12,000 settlers in the stasis pods aboard the three ships This medicine would allow them to live here on Dara lll as if it was their own world. This information was also used to "engineer" the 30,000 human embryos in stasis – our direct ancestors – plus those of the animals, and plants that the humans brought with them – so that they wouldn't need the medicine to live and prosper here.

In the evening we were offered rooms with soft beds to sleep in, but we chose to return to the surface, to the air, the sun, and even the birds-of-sorrows to spend the night under the stars. Perhaps because we had talked all day, or perhaps because we had so much to think about, and absorb, we had little to say to each other.

The following morning, we returned to the Redoubt, and after breakfast, Captain Dar, knowing that we were under a time limit of sorts, told us that they were holding a staff meeting that morning to decide how to proceed. While we were free to further explore the facility, we quickly drifted back out into the world and had our own staff meeting. We agreed to act as one, and only with everyone in agreement.

We had our last meeting with Captain Dar after the midday meal.

'The skills that we possess have no immediate use in this world,' she explained. 'Most of the expertise my fellow scientists and engineers have to offer are dependent on science, technology, and machines that, not only do not exist, but are still hundreds, if not thousands, of years in the future, even if we shared our knowledge of them.

'Our mission is clearly over. And as such, we are unanimous in our desire to end it, and rejoin the living. Any help in this matter you can offer us would be appreciated. However, you should not feel obliged to offer any. I believe that we could obtain help from the neighboring islands. We have gold to pay for what we need. And I should also add that there is no hurry. We can spend years or decades in our stasis chambers, until you are in positions to help us, if you choose to do so.'

Captain Dar went on to say that they did not wish to be seen as some sort of demigods, or become some sort of a circus act. Nor did they want to be used as pawns in the political rivalries of the continents. They hoped that they could emerge and blend into their world secretly, at least at first. Once they had established themselves, and gotten to know the world better, they might make themselves known. They hoped that we might help them achieve these aims. They assured us that they could pay in gold for everything necessary to accomplish this.

Sella quickly spoke up and said that they had nothing to worry about. Her grandfather would certainly honor their wishes and see to all their needs. And even though a government would be involved, she assured Captain Dar, that it would be her family helping her. They could settle wherever they cared to. And that she would guarantee that whenever they wanted to share their knowledge, they could share it with the whole world. In that, we were all agreed.

Captain Dar thanked her, but said that they hoped to avoid all government contact, at least for the first few years, while they rediscovered their world.

Commander Mey spoke up next. 'With all due respect, Captain Dar, but I don't believe that is either possible, nor desirable. I can assure you that you and your crew could not possibly settle on any major island, or the two continents, without it being noted. Every major island keeps a close watch on who comes and goes, and 137 mysterious people arriving and settling would not go unquestioned.

'I completely understand your desire to stay out of the limelight. Indeed, I think secrecy is the best policy, for now, to avoid a great disruption. However, I don't think you can accomplish your goals without the help of our world's governments. If you wish to rediscover your world, you must embrace its governments, continental and island. Not only can they provide you with staff to help you settle in, they could take you to all the places you would want to see in order to learn about our world. And since you have, right before you, representatives from the continents and islands, who have agreed to act as one, you need not fear becoming pawns. We will see to it that this is a truly international effort before the wheels are put into motion. One that everyone will share in. And I should add, that since we all, continents and islands alike, share the basic tenets that you set for us, you can trust us.

'And I believe that I can speak for my friends, when I say that we would be willing to bring your message to the attention of our governments in the utmost secrecy. And that we personally, would guarantee that they would treat you as you wished to be treated.'

Captain Dar nodded. 'I take your point. How would you suggest we proceed then?'

'I have given it some thought. It might be best that you, personally, introduce yourself, and present your ideas and conditions to the leaders of our countries. I suggest that you do this using the recording devices that you have used to record us. If each of us could take such a device along with us, we could use it not only to make your case directly to the leaders of the nations, but as a token of authenticity, which we will need with the fantastic story we must tell.

'The four of us, would, of course, keep the secret of the Redoubt to ourselves. Once our respective governments have agreed to the terms you set out and had, together, worked out a plan to bring you fully into our world, we could meet and review them. If, and only if, we all agreed that your terms were fully met, would we reveal your secret location in order to put those plans in effect. I suspect that arrangements could be in place within a year or two, at most.'

After some further discussion, Mey's plan was agreed to by all. Captain Dar, joined by some of her staff, made the requested recording, outlining the events that lead to the creation of the Redoubt, and now, their presence in a world 4,500 years after their time. In addition, they explained what they hoped they might accomplish, and how. Each of us was then given a small, watch-like device and taught how to operate it. Despite its small size, when you stared at it, it projected an image directly into your eyes that filled your entire field of vision. It was so real, that it seemed as if the people in the recording were in the room with you.

We said goodbye to Captain Dar, and her staff, early the following morning. We made our way back down the peak, still in somewhat of a daze. Sella was greeted almost cheerfully by the birds-of-sorrows attending their stone god, and so we passed them by without incident. We made some initial plans on our trek down and sailed that evening for Dela Dare where we would finalize our plans.

Chapter 19 Home Again, Again

01

As I said, we had sunk Redoubt Island beneath the horizon by the time I took my night watch at the tiller. Overhead a million stars winked and shimmered. To the west, a silver-white trail led across the dark sea to Arra just above the horizon. A dark peak of an island notched the sky to the east. I was steering in the faintly luminous wake of Mey's long range scout boat, a hundred meters ahead. The sea slapped the hull and gurgled and hissed past. The Night Song talked to itself in a hundred little creaks and groans as it plunged through the sea. She talked to the wind in the shiver and flap of its sails. And she carried on a conversation, of sorts, with me, through the tiller in my hand. It was a world I had grown quite familiar with, but tonight it all seemed somehow more real, more immediate and yet, even more strange – how did I ever find myself at the helm of a Vente yacht in the Five Island Sea on a night like this?

Arra sank beneath the sea. Another island appeared against the stars. But all I had to do was steer in the luminous wake, so my mind wandered, more or less, around and around the events of the last three days.

I was startled when the dark form of Lessie appeared beside me. 'You're relieved, Lang.' It seemed too soon.

'Four already?'

'Yes.'

'Right then. The course is set by Mey's boat.' I said, and looking about, found an island or two that I pointed out on the dimly lit chart, and turned the tiller over to her, with a final 'Goodnight.'

She said a quiet goodnight – unusual in itself, since it was usually only a nod of acknowledgment – and I left her to find my berth and the sleep I needed.

The Night Song bounded merrily along, her tiller lively in my hand. She gaily tossed up a glittering spray of cool water with every wave met. The sun was hot on my shoulders, the wind warm, the sea and sky bright and cheerful. Mey's boat was still ahead, the only sail in sight. I didn't share her delight.

'You're looking pretty grim, Taef,' said Sella, setting herself beside me on the cockpit cowling. 'What's on your mind?'

'Oh, I'm just contemplating the future, my future,' I said with a shrug. 'I don't expect to have much to do in the process, other than telling my story, hopefully, only a couple of times, but then what? What happens a year or two from now, once we meet again and the process begins? What will be expected of me, of us, after that? I used to have a plan for my life, but now....'

'All that doesn't make any difference. We don't have to look after the Founders. We can be as involved, or as uninvolved with them, as we choose.'

'Yes, perhaps. Still, my field of archaeology is going to change drastically. Much of what we know is going to be obsolete, much of what we did will be unnecessary now that we will have people who can tell us first hand stories of the earliest days of our world. We'll no longer have to dig in ruins and make guesses.'

'But there is still 4,500 years of history that they slept through. The Founders aren't the beginning and end of archaeology. Besides, you were planning to be the boy explorer of the islands. They have nothing to say to that.'

'True. Still, for me, a lot of the wind seems to have gone out of my sails. We can sit down and talk to people who not only know the greatest mysteries of our world, but can tell us all about where our ancestors came from as well. That rather dwarfs jungle shrouded island forts and temples.'

'And great, rotting chests overflowing with gold, pearls, and gems?'

'Even that. At the moment, anyway. Oh well, I always have the Lang Mercantile. I can once again take my place behind the counter to sell the finest dry goods, hardware, and notions on the island. And pass along all the latest island gossip as a free service, as well.'

'That's just your bad mood talking, Taef. I'm sure Lessie will have something to say about that.'

I gave her a dark look. 'Just leave it, Sella. That tease has grown old and tired.'

'I'm not teasing.'

'Well, in that case, she can be in charge of hats, perfume, shoes, and fabrics when we get our own store. Though, perhaps it would be best, if she just stayed home to keep the house and raise the kids. I don't think she's cut out to be a salesperson.'

'You're really dreaming if you think she'll settle for a life as mundane as that. I think being the partner of the boy explorer of the islands is what's she's contemplating. She's mentioned the Meys several times to me, and how nice it is to see how they sail the islands and work together.'

'All of which makes that mundane life of selling hardware all the more attractive to me.'

Sella narrowed her eyes and gave me a hard look that was almost, but not quite, believable. 'Don't even think of breaking the heart of my sister,'

'The thought never crossed my mind, because it's all in your imagination. The prospect is no more real than your squinty eyes and fake frown.'

'It's fake now, Taef, only because I know you. When the time comes, you won't break her heart. I fear it's been broken once already. I won't see it broken again,' and with that grim warning, she stood and went forward to sit against the cabin with her sister.

02

We made Dela Dare in three days. We stayed two days with the Meys to make plans. We agreed that we would conduct our private correspondence using the Lang Mercantile on Lil Lon as our drop box, so to speak. None of us knew where we'd end up, but I could arrange with my father to forward any letters to our last known addresses, if necessary.

Given the Raah's relationship with Captain Dar, Sella had to admit to the Meys that the Vente were descendants of the northern continent outpost of Teraven Station. However, she said that the outpost was on the coast and continued to refer to herself and Lessie as Vente rather than Teravenians. And in all their conversations, she talked as if the Vente only occupied the islands off the Norterra coast. Indeed, I from what she said, I gathered that she had not revealed to Captain Dar the full extent of their nation.

'I shall leave all that up to the Grandfather. I don't want to get into trouble by revealing our great secret,' she said, with a wink.

'I'm sure you never do that,' I replied. 'Unless it was necessary.'

'But only if absolutely necessary,' she nodded, with mock seriousness.

We sailed on the morning of the third day, even though we could've talked for days about what we had learned and what the future held, with a promise to keep in touch.

I was eager to be off, as I felt a growing urgency to put an end to this adventure – to start the next, and then, hopefully to find a normal life, either as an island archaeologist, or as a shopkeeper. We kept an eye out for the pirates, but we sailed through their old hunting grounds without seeing any sign of them, or any other would-be-pirates.

Five days out of Dela Dare I relieved Sella at the helm at midnight, as usual. And as usual, she lingered to talk a while, sitting down on the edge of the cockpit cowling next to me.

'I'm so happy to see how much Lessie has changed,' she began.

I scowled. Talking about Lessie had grown old.

'Has she changed? I've not noticed it.' Much, anyway.

'Don't be that way, Taef. Of course she has. Surely you can see that?' And seeing me shake my head, continued, 'She's far more at ease with herself now, having accomplished the goal she set for herself so long ago. She's still thoughtful, but not brooding like she used to be. She's not almost angry all the time, like she was. She's discovering happiness again.'

'I haven't seen much of a difference. She says no more to me that she did before.'

'She's shy. But there's a new light in her eyes. She looks oh, so much more beautiful than before, don't you think?'

'I'll go so far as to say that her customary scowl is less of a scowl, which is a big improvement to her looks. But she's still cool, aloof, and says only what she must to me.'

'She's a Raah. We're proud people, we Raahs. But unlike me, she is very shy. Shyness and pride alone make her seem aloof. She doesn't really want to be that way, not with you, Taef. But you scare her...'

'Me? Oh, come now, nothing scares her, or you, for that matter.'

Sella smiled. 'Oh, it takes a lot, I admit. But it isn't you that scares her. It's how she feels about you. It frightens her how much she feels about you. It scares her.'

'She's told you this?'

'Not in so many words.'

'As in none.'

She shrugged. 'I know my sister. We're twins. We grew up always knowing what each other was thinking.'

'Except in love.'

'Ah, there you have me. Perhaps... Still, in this case I know I'm right. Why are you so set against her, Taef?'

'She's not my type.'

'And what is your type?'

'Bright and cheerful.'

'Lessie could be bright and cheerful, with you.'

'That would be the Lessie of our imagination, and you have a great deal of imagination, Sella. I can't fall in love with a figment of your imagination. I have to deal with what is real. The reality is that Lessie Raah is not in love with me. And more to the point, not only am I not in love with her, I don't want to be. She is simply not my type.'

She laughed. 'I think you're frightened of her.'

'And I'm frightened of you as well,' I said with a smile.

'And yet, you could fall in love with me, if I let you.'

I gave her a look, and decided to be honest. 'No, Sella. We can be the best of friends, but never lovers. I would disappoint you. Under all your smiles, laughter, and fluffy imagination, and, I believe, a true concern for others, you are a Raah. You're a member of a family that has ruled a fair part of the world for 4500 years. I'm a shopkeeper's son, who would be happy, I think, as a boy explorer of islands, or a university lecturer. You wouldn't settle for that. You're destined for greatness, and as you say, Lessie is a Raah as well. She won't settle for the life I want.'

'I wouldn't be so cock sure of that, Taef. She doesn't have black hair. And she wants to start a new life. I think she might well be a girl explorer of islands, or even a university lecturer. She knows an awful lot about an awful lot.'

'Oh, just give up, Sella. She'll find someone, some day. Don't worry.'

'She's found you. She's saved your life twice, and she can't keep her eyes off of you. I really don't know why you can't see it. It was love at first sight, Taef.'

'I was right there, at first sight, and it wasn't love in her eyes.'

She pouted. 'Don't be like that, Taef.'

'Sorry. This is a battle you're not going to win.'

She shook her head, 'I don't lose. But let's not argue. We'll just let nature take its course, brother.'

She scared me.

'And what about you? Do you have your story down?' asked Sella several nights later. We'd been talking about her return home, and how she was looking forward to seeing her grandfather again, with the message from his great-great-to the nth-degree grandmother.

'Yes, more or less simple truth. I'll keep you, Vente, and Teraven a secret for now; it's not important. Luckily I have had several months to study your imaginative use of blended facts and fantasies to use as a guide when I spin my tale.'

'Why, Taef, I do believe that I've just been insulted,' she laughed.

'It is your heart and intent, not your methods, that I judge you by. And you've got a good heart and good intentions, Sella, so it's hardly an insult.'

She smiled and laid a hand on mine. 'It is just those smooth, sincere sounding lines like that, make you so appealing to both Lessie and I.'

I laughed. 'Just like that one. I've learned from a master.'

She shook her head, 'No. I don't think I've taught you anything at all.'

'Oh, I suppose that I must take some responsibility. I seem to spin half-truths into the whole truths far too easily to be completely comfortable with myself. And yet, necessity drives. In any event, I may not trust your stories completely, but I trust you.'

She slipped off the cowling and stood next to me, and whispered, 'I am sure that I'm going to love you, as a brother, in the coming years. Good night, Taef.'

'Oh, get along, Sella, dream in your berth,' I replied, and watched her disappear down the hatchway. I'll say it again, she frightened me.

03

The familiar peaks of Fey Lon and Lil Lon stood dark against the velvet night sky with its drifts of diamonds and the glow of moons in the western sky. I had directed Sella to a small cove on Lil Lon's western shore. The dark shapes of fishing boats lined the beach, while several larger ones bobbed off shore. She took us within twenty meters of the shoreline before dropping anchor. We quickly shifted the dinghy from the cabin roof to the sea alongside. And then it was time to say goodbye.

I found that I was, suddenly, not eager for the journey to end. I must admit that the prospect of facing Captain Char, may have had something to do with that. And beyond that meeting, all the unknowns.

Still, it was more than the uncertainty of the future, that made me reluctant to leave the Night Song. It was the end of an adventure. While it had its moments of terror, and of strange magic, it seemed now, at the end, to have been a wonderfully simple and carefree life – a life that I had a feeling was going to be rare for some time to come.

And I had a feeling I would miss Sella Raah's company, however dangerous that company is. Lessie Raah was a different story. If she had changed, as Sella maintained, she hid it from me. She remained cool and aloof the entire voyage home, saying little more to me than what was strictly necessary. And, if she looked nicer without her customary scowl, little else had changed. She was, after all, who she was. This was all to the good, as far as I was concerned, for my feelings toward her had not changed either. And yet, for some reason, I couldn't quite dismiss Sella's romantic fantasies about us, try as I might. So, if I was wrong, this would be Lessie's time to act...

I collected my roll-pack from the cabin and returned to the deck. I tossed it into the dinghy, and turned to the girls.

'Well, I guess this is goodbye, for now. I hate to leave you, knowing just how helpless you are, but I guess I must. Sail directly home. No side stops on red islands, mind you. Straight home. And perhaps try to grow up, just a little, as well. But I'll leave that up to you. I can't say I'm looking forward to having to grow up, myself.'

'Oh, we'll get by, somehow,' laughed Sella. 'We'll do as you say, and sail straight home. As for growing up, let's not.'

'Alright, we won't...' I laughed. And growing more serious, 'I really would like to drag this goodbye on and on, but I guess it's time to pay the piper, and see where that lands me. No point putting it off. I will miss you.'

'We will miss you too, Taef,' said Sella.

Lessie said nothing, until Sella nudged her with an elbow.

'Goodbye and good luck,' she said, extending her hand.

'Good luck to you as well. And just let me congratulate you on what you have accomplished. You've made a mark on the world, in a very good way. You can be proud of what you've accomplished. I'm glad I was a part of it. Goodbye Lessie,' I said politely, carefully taking her hand nonchalantly.

She nodded, quickly slipping her hand out of mine, turned, and walked to the bow of the Night Song.

I let out a held breath.

And with that, I didn't linger. I followed my roll-pack over the low railing and dropped it into the dinghy. I helped Sella aboard, and we set out, I in the bow, she rowing facing forward so we could have a few last words together.

We rowed in silence until the bow of the dinghy scraped and bounced along the sand in the lapping waves.

She leaned forward, and put her hand on mine. 'She's proud. Taef. Don't be discouraged. She's just playing hard to get. Wait until you see her again. She'll be a completely different girl, once all the work she did comes to fruition,' she said quietly. 'You'll see...'

I took her hand, leaned forward, and kissed her on the cheek. 'Thank you, Sella. I've had the time of my life. Take care until we meet again.'

I then stood and stepped out of the boat into the warm sea. Grabbing my roll-pack, I slung it over my shoulder and gave the dinghy a shove to free it from the shore.

'Goodbye, Taef,' she said, took several strokes back, and then swung the dinghy around to head back to the dear old Night Song.

'Goodbye, Sella,' I called out softly.

I stood in the warm sea, the little waves lapping my knees, and felt a sudden urge to turn and stalk off, up, into the dark shadows of the batto trees without looking back. Was it intuition? Or fear? In either case, I resisted the urge. I'd faced real danger, and real fear, during these last months, and I wasn't about to give in to a little nervousness now. I'd see them off, like a proper friend. And so I stood and watched Sella row back and the girls haul the dinghy back aboard with the davit. Lessie then went to the bow to ratchet up the anchor while Sella took the tiller and started the motor.

When the anchor was up, Sella started the engine and started to swing the Night Song around. And as she did so, Lessie, still at the bow, slowly raised her arm to her side, and tentatively, shyly, began to wave goodbye to me.

What could I do, but do the same? I raised my arm, and returned her wave, as reluctantly as she was tentative.

And then, she stopped, and I seemed to feel her gazing into my eyes. Just my imagination, of course. Still, a shiver ran up my spine. In the cockpit I could see Sella waving her arms wildly in triumph, stopping only when Lessie turned around to join her.

I stood still in the gently lapping waves, my heart racing, until the Night Song slipped out of sight beyond the rocky point.

I should have run when I had the chance.

I took a deep breath, and told myself that it was just a friendly, goodbye wave. It meant nothing more than goodbye, and likely, good riddance. It couldn't be anything more than that. I'd have known. I believed that for several seconds before I once more plunged into dark doubt as the sea swished about my knees.

Why, I told myself, we'd been companions for the last several months. We were friends, of sorts. So, of course she would wave goodbye. It was the polite thing to do. And I believed that, as well, for a few more seconds.

I should've run...

I drew another long, deep breath. No matter. Sella was not a sorceress. She couldn't just talk me into anything she cared to, despite all the evidence to the contrary. I wasn't a bird-of-sorrow, after all. I tried believing that as well, but soon gave up.

I turned, and grimly marched out of the sea, across the long white sand beach, into the velvet shadows of the batto trees, and up the steep slope to the lowest of the island circling streets. I'd report to Captain Char tonight – no matter how late it was. Did they shoot deserters out of hand in the navy? I found that the prospect seemed to cheer me up, a little.

04

On reaching the lowest road, I turned and followed its moonlight splattered course, and then wove my way up the familiar streets to my home. It was late, and it was completely dark.

Good.

I slipped through the gate, and keeping to the shadows, walked around to the back. I put a foot on the trellis, and then a second. It creaked a bit, but held, so I carefully made my way up and over the railing. The moons were already in the west, so it was velvet black on the veranda as I tiptoed past my brother's room. I found my key on the hook under the bench where I kept it, and carefully opened one of the glass paneled doors just wide enough to slip in. In the moonlight pouring in through the western double doors, I made my way across my old room to the closet.

I had decided not to show Captain Char the viewing device right off. I wanted to talk to her first, see what the prospects were for getting orders to bypassing three or four levels of command and report directly to Admiral Pall, who would probably be only a step or two below the Aerlonian Prime Minister. The fewer people who knew of it, the easier it would be to keep it secret.

And I didn't want it found on me, should I end up getting tossed into the brig. So with that thought, I slipped the viewing device into my customary hiding place under the floor board in my closet.

I found my uniforms hanging in the closet, no doubt returned here with my other personal effects, when I didn't. I slipped into the shorts and shirt, and took the cap off the shelf and put it on, as well. If I was to be shot, I might as well be shot in uniform. I also dug out Sella's "please excuse Lieutenant Lang's absence" letter from my roll-pack and slipped into my chest pocket to explain my second departure from Lil Lon, if necessary. I mean, why not?

I slipped back out, locked the door, and climbed back down the trellis and made my way back to the road. I followed it around to the harbor and the main base. I didn't know Captain Char's bungalow number, so I stopped at the guardhouse on the road above the administration building. The sentry didn't know it either, so I had to walk down to the building and ask the duty officer at the central reception desk.

He looked up as I pushed through the door, and recognizing me, stared open mouthed.

'Evening, Pen,' I said, giving him a sketchy island salute, adding, 'At ease, ensign.' That was a joke.

'Taef! What are you doing here?' he asked.

'Reporting in to the Chief. I take it she's not in her office at the moment.'

'Of course not. But, but where have you been? What have you been up to?'

'Long story. I'll fill you in later, if they don't shoot me. I'll need Char's bungalow number then.'

'You're not thinking of waking her up at this time of night?'

'That's my plan. The conscientious officer reporting in at his first opportunity. I'm just off of a boat and have my story in hand, so there's no point waiting until morning, when she can have the guards on me the moment I show my face.'

'Are you going to be in big trouble?'

'Nah. I'm a political officer, not a line officer. I'm expected to use my initiative to exploit unexpected opportunities. That's my story, anyway. Her number, Ensign Qin.'

He looked it up and wished me, 'Good luck.'

'Thanks. I'll probably be back with the Chief, so stay awake.'

The married officers quarters were across the road and up the hill. All the small bungalows were dark, but they were numbered up from the gate, so I counted them off, came to hers, and carefully walked up the steps. After checking to see that I had the correct one, I rapped loudly on its front door until a faint light appeared and the door opened.

I was greeted by a large man who shined a current lantern's beam on me. Her husband. He stood behind the screen door and stared grimly at me for a moment, trying to place me. 'Who are you, and what's your business calling at this time of night?' he barked.

'Lieutenant LT Lang reporting to Captain Char. Is she in, sir?' I asked, blinking in the beam of light.

'Did he say "Lang," Dent?' said a sleepy voice from the darkness behind him.

I didn't wait for him to answer, but called out, 'Good evening, Captain Char. Please forgive me for reporting in at this late hour. I have just arrived back and felt that it was better to report directly,' I said, as I made out a vague figure in a pale robe behind the fellow at the door that I took to be her husband.

She replaced Dent at the door and gave me a long look. I gave her an island salute, which she didn't return.

'Where have you been, and what have you been up to?'

'A long story, sir. One, I fear, that I can only relate to you in absolute confidentiality,' I said with a nod to her husband. 'I'm sorry, sir, but I am under very strict orders about that.'

She stared at me for a while longer through the screen, sighed, and said, 'Come in Lieutenant. Let me get dressed and we can go down to my office to talk.'

As I stepped in, she turned to Dent. 'Would you be so kind, my dear, as to light the stove and put on a pot of kaf. I have a feeling that this is going to be a long night.'

'I'm afraid so, Captain.' I sighed. 'I'm afraid so.'

The further adventures of of Sella, Lessie and Taef can be found in "The Prisoner of Cimlye" available in print or as a free ebook from this ebook store.
