Kitiara's fingers would not grasp the amethyst. They were already stiff and cold. Sturm gently lifted the magic crystal.
Was there enough power in it to save Kit's life? Did he, a sworn opponent of magic, dare use it to heal her?
Her breath came short, in hard, ragged gasps. Death had
Kitiara in its grasp. There was no time to debate. Sturm closed the amethyst in his fist and placed his other hand on
Kitiara's injured shoulder.
"Forgive me, father," he whispered. "This is for her life."
The stone was hot for the merest second, but not enough to burn him. Kitiara gave a sharp cry and then went limp in his arms. He thought he was too late, that she was dead.
Sturm opened his fingers, to see that the amethyst was clear again. He peeled back the bloody cloth over Kit's wound and saw that it was healed.
Smoke from the hatch was getting thicker. Sturm put an arm under Kitiara's legs and staggered to his feet. Muffled screams filtering through the open hatch proved that the
Gharm hadn't yet overcome the fire.
The smoke got so bad that Sturm retreated to the poop deck, carrying Kitiara. The wind switched from port to star board, never allowing the ship to drive clear of the fumes.
When the first tongues of flame licked out of the hold,
Sturm felt real fear. How could they escape if the ship was on fire? The Werival's longboat was missing.
At that moment, the wall of rain off the starboard bow parted, and out came the brown hull of the Cloudmaster.
The flying ship was skimming over the waves so low that a few high swells lapped the bottom of her hull. Sturm saw the gnomes at the bow, waving white handkerchiefs.
A great shout of triumph escaped his throat. "Kit, wake up!" he cried. "Kit, the gnomes are coming! We're saved!"
Fire blasted out of the fore hatch, and with it, the figure of the Gharm. Blazing from head to toe, the hideous ghoul bounced from bulwark to bulwark, shrieking its cursed life away. Unable to bear the burning any longer, the ghoul finally dived into the churning waves.
The bows were burning now, and the foremast was begin ning to smolder. The Cloudmaster drifted past the stern.
Sturm left Kitiara lying on the deck and grabbed a boat hook from the rail. As the gnome ship coasted slowly along the port side, Sturm hooked it and drew it tightly to the car avel.
The gnomes clutched the Werival's sides as Sturm lifted the limp Kitiara over his shoulder. He sprinted for the rail and leaped, one foot kicking the rail top as he went. The gnomes let go, and the Cloudmaster sank toward the sea.
"Too much weight!" Wingover cried. "Out ballast!'
Amidships, Sighter, Cutwood, and Birdcall threw doors, window glass, and other loose objects over the side. The ship rose again into the low clouds.
"W-welcome aboard!" Stutts said heartily.
"Glad to be here," Sturm said with genuine relief. He lay sprawled on the deck.
"What happened down there? asked Wingover.
"It's a long story."
"Is the lady well? She seems unconscious," said Sighter.
He lifted one of her arms and let it fall.
"She'll be all right," Sturm said. The Cloudmaster broke through the top of the clouds. Below, the cyclone's whirling mass spread out in all its glory. The gnomes set the sails and put the setting sun to their backs.
"It was very clever of you to start a signal fire," Wingover said. "But it got out of hand, didn't it? I mean, you might have destroyed the whole ship before we ever arrived."
Sturm felt a crazy desire to laugh. Instead, he said,
"That's not the way things went." He paused to yawn prodi giously.
"Did you find anything useful on that vessel?" Sighter asked. But by then Sturm was already fast asleep.
Chapter 35
Sturm smelled land: wet soil and flowers and fresh- ly turned fields. The sun was in his eyes. He sat up. He was in the wheelhouse, alone. The windows and doors were gone, as was most of the roof. He went out on deck. At the bow was Sighter, surveying the ground below with his tele scope. Aft, by the former tail post, sat Kitiara, Stutts, Fitter, and Rainspot. Kitiara was talking rapidly and making wild gestures with her hands.
"— and then Sturm stepped in and chopped the monster's arm off!" The gnomes all went Ohh, and Kitiara described how the arm had withered before their very eyes.
Stutts saw Sturm approach. "Ah, Master B-Brightblade!
You're awake. We are just hearing about your t-tremendous adventure on board the cursed c-caravel."
Sturm grunted something noncommittal and looked at
Kitiara. "How do you feel?" he asked.
"Fit as can be. How're you7"
"Rested," he said. "How long have I been asleep?"
"T-two nights and a day," said Stutts.
"Two nights!"
"And a day," added Fitter.
"I came to about an hour ago," Kitiara said."I slept like a dead woman, but now I feel better than I have in ten sum mers."
"You almost were a dead woman." Sturm explained how the Gharm had poisoned her and told her that the elven pen dant had saved her once again. Kitiara brought the ame thyst out of her blouse. Not only was it clear once more, but it was seamed with hundreds of tiny cracks.
"I don't remember using it," she said, puzzled.
"You didn't. I did," said Sturm. Kitiara's eyes widened in surprise.
He turned and went into the dining room. There the water barrel sat, almost empty. Sturm downed a dipper of tepid water.
Outside, Wingover said, "I thought men of his order would not use magic under any circumstance."
"They're not supposed to," Kitiara said. She began to tuck the pendant back under her blouse, but as she did, it crum bled into dust. She stared sadly at the flakes on her tunic;
Tirolan Ambrodel's gift was no more. Then, brushing them away, she rose and said to the gnomes, "Excuse me, fellows.
I need to have a word with Sturm."
Kitiara found Sturm standing by the port rail, staring at the green land below.
"Northern Ergoth," she said." Wingover spotted a flock of terns and followed them. The birds led them to land."
Sturm stared on, saying nothing. "Not very scientific, I thought, but Wingover says, 'Anything that yields good results is scientific."'
"I am tainted," Sturm said quietly.
"In what way?"
"I used magic. Such a thing is forbidden. How am I ever going to become a knight?"
"That's ridiculous! You used magic on Lunitari when you had those visions," she said.
"Those were inflicted on me; I had no choice. On the ship,
I used the power of the pendant to heal your wound."
"I call that a right proper thing to do! Are you sorry you didn't let me die?" she asked sarcastically.
"Of course not."
"But you're 'tainted' nevertheless?"
"I am."
"Then you are a fool, Sturm Brightblade, a hidebound fool! Do you honestly believe that an ancient set of rules for knightly conduct is more important than a comrade's life?
My life? He did not answer. "There's something twisted about such thinking, Sturm."
Sturm shook his head vigorously. "No, Kit. I would have given my life to save yours, but it is a cruel turning of fate that made me break the Measure."
Her jaw clenched in anger and she said stiffly, "I never realized how little value you place on friendship. You want me to believe in your dusty old code. Just like Tanis. He tried to make me into something I wasn't. He couldn't con trol me, and neither can you!" She stamped the deck, barely containing her fury.
Sturm folded his hands and regarded them carefully. "Vir tue is a hard master, Kit. The Measure and the Oath were never meant to be easy burdens to bear. A knight carries them like ponderous stones on his back, and their weight makes him strong and upright." He lifted his gaze until their eyes met. "You will never understand, because all you want from life is to give your burden over to someone else. A lov er, a servant, even a brass dragon. As long as someone else can bear the burden of honor for you, you don't have to feel guilt, or face the consequences of your acts."