The Wavewalker sailed for three more days, and the weather worsened, like an overripe fruit slowly spoiling. Troubled, the captain emerged from his chart room to stare at the clotted gray skies and the uneasy froth-capped waves. He spoke to Nicci as if she were his confidante. “With a full chest of wishpearls harvested, this voyage has been very profitable, despite the cost in blood. Every captain knows he might lose a crewman or two, though I doubt those divers will ever sail with me again.”
Nicci gave the man a pragmatic look. “You’ll find others. Where are they trained? One of the coastal cities? An island?”
“Serrimundi. Wishpearl divers are revered among their people.”
“I noticed the arrogance.”
“It won’t be easy to replace them.” The captain sighed. “Those three will talk once we get back to a port city.”
“Then invest your new fortune wisely,” Nicci said. “Those pearls in your hold may be the last you ever harvest.” The single pearl Bannon had given her was tucked away in a fold pocket of her black dress.
When the watch changed, a lookout climbed down from the high platform, and another scrambled up the ratlines to take his place. Nathan joined Nicci and the captain on the deck as the windblown, deeply tanned lookout approached. “The clouds look angry, Captain. You can smell a storm on the wind.”
Captain Eli nodded. “We may have to batten down for a rough night.”
“Are there more reefs to worry about ahead?” Nathan asked. “Will we run aground? It would be much harder to find Kol Adair if we’re stranded out on a reef somewhere.”
“Yes, I’m sure it would be quite inconvenient all around.” The captain sucked on his unlit pipe and pressed a hand on his cap to keep the wind from snatching it away. “We are in open water. No reefs that I know of.” The sailor nodded and went back to his duties.
When the other man was gone, Nicci lowered her voice. “You said that your charts were no longer accurate and you weren’t exactly sure where we were.”
Captain Eli’s expression was distant. “True, but I don’t think reefs appear out of nowhere.”
As the blustery wind increased, the anxious crew performed only the most important chores. The potbellied cook came up with a bucket of frothy milk, fresh from the cow kept tied below. “She doesn’t like the rocking of the waves,” he said. “Next time the milk may be curdled when it comes out of her teats.”
“Then we’ll have fresh cheese.” Captain Eli took a ladle of the proffered milk.
Nicci declined, but the wizard was happy to taste it. He smacked his lips after he drank. The cook offered milk to the surly wishpearl divers, but they scowled at the bucket, focusing their glares on Nicci.
“She might have poisoned it,” said Rom.
Hearing this, Nicci decided to drink from the ladle after all.
As the wind whistled through the rigging and the hours dragged on, Nathan suggested that he and Bannon practice their swordplay on deck. The clang of steel rang out in a flurry as the two pranced back and forth, dodging coiled ropes and open rain barrels that had been set out to collect fresh water in anticipation of the imminent storm.
Bannon had gotten noticeably better as a swordsman. He had a reckless energy that served to counteract his gracelessness, and Sturdy lived up to its name, receiving and deflecting blow after blow from Nathan’s much finer blade. For a while, the performance distracted the uneasy crewmen from their gloom.
By the time the young man and the wizard were both exhausted, the afternoon clouds were so thick with the oncoming storm that Nicci couldn’t even see the sunset on the open water. Instead, she merely watched the daylight die.
“Will you show me some magic?” Bannon suggested to Nathan, climbing up on a crate that was too high to serve as a comfortable chair.
“Why would I show you magic?” Nathan asked.
“Because you’re a wizard, aren’t you? Wizards do magic tricks.”
“Wizards use magic. Performing monkeys do tricks.” Nathan raised his thick eyebrows. “Ask the sorceress. Maybe she’ll perform a trick for you.”
Bannon glanced over at Nicci, swallowed hard, then turned back. “I’ve already seen her magic. I know what she can do.”
“You know some of what I can do,” said Nicci.
The carrack rocked back and forth in the rough seas, rising on the swells, then dropping into the troughs. Though most of the Wavewalker’s crew had iron stomachs, some sailors bent over the rail and retched into the open ocean. The masts creaked and groaned; the sails rippled and flapped.
Captain Eli stood with hands on hips and his woolen jacket secured with silver buttons across his chest. “Trim the sails! The wind is getting stronger, and we don’t need any torn canvas.”
Above, the lookout had strapped himself to the mast to keep from being flung overboard when the ship lurched.
With an exaggerated sigh, Nathan acceded to Bannon’s request for a demonstration of magic, even though the young man had not continued to pester him. “All right, watch this, my boy.” The wizard knelt down, smoothed the ruffles of his fine travel shirt, and briskly rubbed his palms together as if to warm them up. “This is just a small hand light, a flame we could use to ignite a fire or illuminate our way.”
“I use sulfur matches, or flint and steel,” Bannon said.
“Then you have magic of your own. You don’t need to see mine.”
“No, I want to see it!” He leaned closer, his eyes bright. “Make fire. Show me.”
Nathan cupped his hands to form a bowl. His brow wrinkled, and he stared into the air, concentrating until a glimmer of light appeared. The wisp of flame curled up and wavered, but when a gust of wind whipped across the deck, the hand fire flickered, then went out. Nathan could not sustain it.
The wizard looked completely baffled. Nicci had seen him create blazing balls of fire before with barely a glance, not to mention far more horrific wizard’s fire that caused great destruction. As if incensed, he concentrated again, then scowled when only a tiny thread of fire appeared, which was again extinguished by the breezes.
“Is it supposed to be that difficult?” Bannon asked.
“I’m not feeling at all well, my boy,” he said, in an obvious, awkward excuse. “Magic requires concentration, and my mind is troubled. Besides, there’s too much wind for a proper demonstration.”
Bannon looked disappointed. “I wasn’t aware that wizards could use magic only under ideal conditions. You told me I had to be ready to fight with my sword, no matter my mood.”
“What do you know of wizards?” Nathan snapped. “Your sulfur matches couldn’t light a fire in a situation like this either.”
Stung, Bannon conceded.
In a more apologetic voice, Nathan said, “It isn’t you, my boy. My Han seems to be … troubled. I’m not entirely sure what to do about it.”
“Your Han?”
“It is what we call the force of magic, the force of life within us, particularly within a wizard. The Han manifests differently in different people. My Han was intertwined with prophecy as well as the ability to use magic, but now that’s all untangled. I’m certain I’ll get it sorted out.”
“Are you sure you’re not just seasick?” Bannon asked, with a teasing lilt in his voice.