Authors: Licia Troisi
The sorcerer laughed. “You can sleep easy, Dodi. As far as Aires is concerned, I’m practically invisible.”
Dodi narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be so sure, Sennar. Don’t be so sure.”
For the next month, sailing was smooth. There was a strong wind behind them and only now and then did the ocean rouse itself.
Sennar had grown accustomed to the ship’s rocking. Mornings, leaning on the gunwale, he watched the ocean return the sun to the earth, and the sight instilled him with calm. In truth, he was enjoying the journey. Maybe he’d complete his mission after all and come out of this alive.
He missed Nihal. One evening, he wrote her a letter. He’d already begun reciting the spell that would speed it on to her when he paused to read it over one last time.
What the devil am I thinking?
He tore it in half and tossed it angrily overboard. He watched as the scraps of parchment were carried off in the waves and then he returned to the hold, alone with his thoughts.
The problems began during the fifth week of sailing. The sea grew more treacherous and unpredictable, one storm after another. They’d arrived in uncharted waters. No one had ever come this far, and keeping their bearings proved difficult.
One evening, Rool called Sennar into his cabin.
“According to my calculations, we should be within sight of the unknown islands any day now. These here.” He pointed to the map. “But as it stands, we haven’t seen so much as a shadow.”
“How bad is it?” Sennar asked, troubled by the news.
“Bad. The pantry’s almost empty. When we last restocked, we were assuming that we’d have filled up again by now. If we don’t find that damned archipelago soon, we’re in trouble.”
As the days passed, the crew stared out with more and more apprehension at the flat, empty ocean. But the horizon offered nothing new—only a cruel and intense blue.
Sennar decided he would give up half of his daily food ration.
“Are you always so considerate, Sennar?” Aires asked when she found out. They were seated beside one another on deck.
“I feel responsible for this,” he replied, with remorse.
“What a good boy you are,” she answered, laughing. “The kind of guy worth marrying.”
Sennar was shocked to see her so at ease. Even Benares and Rool seemed unperturbed. For them, this was all just routine—the risk, the hunger, the wild unknown of the sea.
“You’re not afraid of what might happen?” he asked her.
Aires stretched her legs out and rested her feet on a barrel of rum. “Scared? Of what? Taking risks is the spice of life. It’s more fun that way. If you can’t manage to have a little fun in the short time we’re given, what’s there to live for? Besides, it’s a challenge.” She turned to face Sennar. “Do you know why I accepted your proposal?”
“For the money?”
“Bravo, my little sorcerer. You know, you really are sharp, when you want to be,” Aires quipped. “But without adventure, the money means nothing. To go where no one else has ever stepped foot … Do you ever think about the fact that almost no one else has witnessed this blue in front of us? That no one has ever lived to tell about it? Well, I plan to make it all the way there. And then I’m going to turn around and go back. That way I’ll know I’m the greatest. For now, just quit panicking—all your worrying won’t bring you one foot closer to your destination.”
And then came a dead calm. The sea was as flat as a puddle, bluer and bluer at the horizon. Without any rainwater to collect, their water reserves diminished rapidly. Rations were cut, and with hunger came discontent. Not everyone was as strong-willed as Rool or as reckless as Aires.
Sennar spent his nights poring over the map, trying to figure out how far they’d come, how much farther there was to go. More than once he resorted to magic, hoping to discover whether or not they were on the right path, but rather than point the way to the islands, the rays of light he conjured merely trailed off in the evening dark toward unknown places.
When some of the pirates began to blame Sennar for involving them all in his own hopeless mission, it was Benares who came to his defense. “Are we all men here, or what? The sea is our home, dammit. Did anyone force you to be here? Whoever wants to turn back to shore, grab a boat and get rowing. End of discussion.”
Soon, there were no more birds. Not a gull, not an albatross, not a single flock migrating toward remote lands. Even the fish began to dwindle. Their daily catch grew lighter each day, until the sea became a complete desert. The boat drifted heavily over the water, engulfed in an unnatural silence. If not for the gentle lapping of the ocean against the sides of the keel, they might as well have been anchored in port.
“Land ho! Land ho!”
The shout came with the breaking dawn. The sea was calm. A wind picked up at their backs and sped the ship onward.
Sennar rushed up on deck. The captain arrived a moment later, spyglass in hand. At the horizon there appeared to be a dark, unresolved line.
“Can it be?” Sennar asked, breathless.
Rool took a long look before drawing any conclusions. “I’m not sure,” he replied. He lifted the scope to his eye again. “There’s something strange about it.”
All morning the crew stared anxiously at the strip of black, the tension rising.
Sometime around mid-afternoon, the ship shook with a lateral blow, as if something had struck it, and tilted dangerously on its side. The crewmen lost their balance, but the ship was quick to right itself, tossed back in the other direction by a sudden gust of wind.
Sennar and the captain fought their way down to the deck. In a single moment, a violent wind had taken hold of everything, as if meaning to sweep it all away. And yet, the sea remained calm and the sun went on shining. The wind was coming from nowhere.
“Adjust the sails, quick!” Rool shouted as he made his way to the gunwale.
Sennar managed to grab hold of the ship’s edge despite the harsh wind lashing his face. He looked up. He was speechless.
An enormous black cloud moved threateningly across the sky—an endless dark mass, changing form as it rushed toward the ship. Sennar fell to the ground, unable to breathe. Two hands grabbed hold of him by the tunic.
“What is it?” Rool asked, fixing his enflamed eyes on Sennar.
“I don’t know.”
“Is it magic? Answer me!”
“It’s … it’s … probably, yes,” Sennar stammered.
Rool let go his grip and began shouting orders, but the crew was frozen with terror.
“Are there any men left on board or are you all a bunch of sissies?” the captain roared. “To your places, now, before I toss every one of you overboard!”
No one had seen anything like it. Sennar looked out over the edge of the ship again, just in time to glimpse the dark cloud approaching with frightening speed. The wind stole his breath. He closed his eyes. When he reopened them, night had descended.
Immense bolts of lightning flashed on the slate-black sky. Hard rain beat against the deck. And then catastrophe.
Gigantic waves beat against the ship, tilting it onto its right side, then onto its left, nearly swallowing the vessel with every rocking swell. A forceful gust threw Sennar down on deck. Benares pulled him up by the collar.
“You’ll only get in the way here. Go back down into the hold.”
He didn’t have to ask twice.
Sennar collapsed into the hold, ran to the nearest corner, and pulled his knees up to his chest. Around him the wooden planks creaked terribly. The ship tossed about in the shifting winds and towering waves.
For a moment, Sennar was unable to move, paralyzed by fear, listening to the wild footsteps above, the thump of bodies thrown to the deck by the storm, the squeaking of rats that had taken refuge in secret hiding spots. Then he began to feel like a coward.
I can’t just sit here, I have to go up and help.
But his legs wouldn’t obey. He forced himself to think. After all, he was a councilor, he’d been in plenty of hopeless situations, and it was always logic that saved him in the end. He went through all the spells he knew, but nothing seemed right to combat the apocalyptic storm raging outside. Some sorcery was behind it, without a doubt. A completely new spell or, more likely, a seal.
Perfect
.
As long as it’s a spell, all I have to do is find a way to counteract it
, he said to himself firmly.
Sennar, clinging to the support beams down below as the ship jolted back and forth, cringed and forced himself to think harder. In the end, it was the ship’s movement that gave him the idea. It would be difficult to pull off, but it was the only way. Whatever it was they were up against must have been brought about by forbidden magic, so no matter his solution, he’d merely be putting nature back on its proper course. Sennar planned the exact steps he’d take once up on deck and then made for the ladder.
The sails were fluttering maniacally. Sennar joined a group of pirates who were trying to reign them back in. Between roars of thunder he could half see the figure of Aires, standing at the helm, trying desperately to keep the ship on course. But there was no course left to keep. Sea and sky were one dark tangle, indistinguishable in the surrounding gloom. Even with Rool’s help, the wheel slipped from her hand and went spinning like a top.
When the mainsail ripped, Sennar put both hands on the gunwale and began to pull himself up the ship’s length, water splashing over and soaking him from head to toe. After several lunges, he was able to reach Aires, still holding fast to the helm.
“A rope,” Sennar yelled. But his words were swallowed in the wailing sea.
“What?” Aires called back.
“I need a rope.”
Aires passed him one and Sennar tied it around his waist, making his way toward the mainmast. He lifted his gaze and watched as it swung dizzily from side to side.
I can do this. I have to.
He began to climb, but his hands slipped on the soaked wood. So he pulled out Nihal’s dagger, the one he’d won from her in a duel on the day they first met. Lodging it deep into the wooden pole, he pressed his body tight to the mast and began to haul himself up with his free hand.
With every moment, he felt himself closer to losing his grip and tumbling down. Blood trickled from his hands.
As a child, he remembered, his friends had all been avid tree climbers. But not him. Not at all. Agility was not his strong suit.
Now look at me, hanging from a ship’s mast like an acrobat, right smack in the middle of the worst storm I’ve ever seen
. The thought nearly made him laugh.
He forced himself not to look down.
I’m almost there, just a little more,
he repeated, urging himself on. But the crow’s nest seemed unreachable. When he finally pulled himself up and into the basket, he let out an ecstatic howl. Incredible—he’d made it.
He tied himself to the mast and got to his feet. Up here, the ship’s rocking was unbearable. He felt his stomach turn and nearly retched.
Not now!
He closed his eyes, concentrating with all his might, then raised his bloody hands to the sky and recited a spell at the top of his lungs.
From his ten fingers came ten rays of silver light, bending the clouds to form a dome overhead. A silver sphere issued from the dome and encircled the ship. It was a relatively basic defense enchantment, a simple shield, but the sheer size required, enough to shield the entire ship, made it a superhuman achievement.
All was suddenly calm on deck. One by one the men got to their feet, glancing first at the force field, then up at the crow’s nest.
Then came a torrent of joyous shouting.
“Sorcerer! You’re extraordinary!” exclaimed Aires.
At Rool’s orders, everyone returned to their places. Aires went back to steering, and Dodi, aided by several other pirates, hauled in the tattered mainsail. The rest of the crew took up the long oars attached to the ship’s side and began rowing with great force.
The ship advanced slowly, like some creature just roused from a deep sleep.
Beyond the force field, bolts of lightning continued cutting across the sky. The cracks of light flashed on the violent sea, awash with a grey foam. Breakers crashed furiously against the silver barrier.
Sennar could sense the power of the ocean as it pressed against his defenses. He emptied his mind of everything but the spell he was reciting. Which wasn’t so hard to do, with his arms aching and his hands full of pins and needles. Soon he felt nothing at all, only the sensation of the magic formula flowing through his fingers like flooding rivers.
“Is there any opening ahead?” he asked desperately, even though he knew he’d be the first to notice, from up in the lookout tower.
“Nothing yet!” Aires shouted from below. “Don’t let up!”
With every second, Sennar could feel the strain of his body increase. One wave after another pounded against the barrier, until the force field began to shrink. He wouldn’t be able to hold the ocean off much longer.
Everyone on board was exhausted—Aires and Benares, still struggling with the rudder, Rool glaring into the dark to find any sign at all that would guide them in the right direction, the rest of the crew digging their oars into the ocean’s raging current.
Sennar was on his knees, his arms on the edge of the crow’s nest, his palms open.
The force field shrank visibly.
Rool was the first to notice. “Hold off, Sennar! Hold off!” he shouted.
But the sorcerer seemed to have slipped into unconsciousness.
“Devil take him! It’s going to cave in! This is what happens when you leave things up to a little kid,” Benares spat.
Aires shot him a disapproving glance. “Quiet! If it weren’t for him, we’d already be dead.” Then she raised her voice. “Stay strong, Sennar! We’re out of this thing, we’re almost out of it!”
But there was no response from up in the crow’s nest. The silver shield grew even smaller.
“Pirates, all of you! Paddle faster!” Rool ordered, but he knew he was asking too much of his men. “We’re done for,” he murmured.
“Look!” Benares shouted suddenly.
A gap appeared in the wall of black clouds. A blade of light sliced through the darkness. Aires broke into laughter, nearly losing hold of the rudder.