"There are patches of ice on the ship."
Tresslar didn't turn to look at her. "Hmm?"
"I think something might be wrong with whatever warming spell you placed on the Zephyr."
That got the artificer's attention. He snapped his head around to face her, features twisted into a disapproving scowl. "What are you talking about? When I cast a spell, it…" He trailed off and rubbed his free hand over a tiny spot of ice on the railing in front of him. His expression softened, as did his tone. "Oh. I see what you mean. I'll tend to it at once."
Tresslar touched the golden dragonhead on the end of his wand to the ice on the railing. As near as Asenka could tell, the artificer didn't do anything, but a moment later tiny curls of steam issued forth from the dragonhead's nostrils-though there didn't appear to be any sort of opening in them. The steam touched the ice, melting it instantly. The wispy coils didn't evaporate, though. Instead they began to expand, spreading all along the port railing, then-Asenka looked over her shoulder-to the starboard railing. The steam, moving more like fog now, rolled down the railing and onto the deck, picking up speed as it spread. It coated the deck, the cabin, the mast and sails, and even the containment ring and Yvka's chair, though it never touched any of the people on the Zephyr. There was only one other thing that the steam didn't come in contact with: Makala's obsidian coffin. The warm white mist passed around the black sarcophagus, coming no closer than three inches to the unholy dark stone. Once it had covered the entire ship, the steam-coating lingered for several seconds before finally dissipating in the wind.
Asenka could feel the difference at once. The air around them was noticeably warmer, as was the deck beneath their feet.
"That was most impressive," Asenka said, and she meant it. "Thank you, but it was nothing. A mere trifle." Despite Tresslar's words, it was clear her praise pleased him.
Since he seemed in a better mood now, Asenka decided to keep talking. "Earlier, I noticed you were holding your wand out before you almost as if it were a fishing rod."
Tresslar chuckled. "I suppose I was fishing, after a fashion. The golden dragonhead has the ability to absorb and store magical energy. I can then release this energy at a later time and use it for whatever task I wish. Though it's easier to simply cast the same sort of spell that was originally absorbed. Using heat energy to create heat, as opposed to trying to use it to try and create wind, like the elemental bound in the Zephyr's containment ring. That sort of thing."
Asenka wasn't exactly sure what Tresslar was talking about, but she nodded anyway. "So you were… what? Fishing for magic?"
Tresslar grinned. "Precisely. While the dragonhead needs to be in direct contact with an enchanted object to draw its full energy, it can absorb a certain amount of background magic. Many sea creatures possess mystic power to varying degrees, and the dragonwand is capable of taking in the magical residue they leave behind. It's not a great deal of energy, mind you, but I learned a long time ago that it doesn't pay to let the wand's energy level dip too low."
A faraway look crept into Tresslar's gaze, and Asenka wondered what the elderly artificer was recalling.
The dragonhead on the end of the wand was a beautiful piece of workmanship, with red gems for eyes and teeth made of crystal. "It's a most remarkable device," Asenka said. "I've never seen an artificer carry anything quite like it before."
Tresslar snapped back to the present. "And no wonder. I'm the only one in the Principalities-or Khorvaire, for that matter-who has anything like it." He looked down at the dragonwand, turning it this way and that, as if examining it for the first time. "It may well be the only object of its kind in all of Eberron." He spoke this last bit softly, as if talking to himself.
"I sense there's a story for the telling here."
Tresslar looked up at her, as if startled. "Well… yes, but it's not one I've ever told before." He glanced toward the bow where Diran still stood motionless, staring out at the slate-gray waters of the Lhazaar. "Not to anyone."
"A story might help pass the time until we return to Perhata."
Tresslar looked at her a long moment before finally saying, "Yes. I suppose it would."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I was twenty-four, and I'd been sailing on the Seastar with Erdis Cai for almost two years."
Asenka blinked in surprise, unsure she'd heard correctly. "You mean Erdis Cai, the explorer?"
Tresslar gave her a small, sad smile, so unlike his previous boastful attitude. "The same."
"But the Seastar hasn't been seen in the Principalities since before I was born!"
Tresslar's smile grew a bit wider. "It was a long time ago."
"I meant no offense, but if you sailed with Erdis Cai, then you must know what happened to him and the rest of his crew. There are so many stories…"
Tresslar's smile fell away.
Asenka sensed there was another tale here, one that was difficult for Tresslar to speak of. Still, one story at a time. "So you were twenty-four," Asenka prompted.
"Yes, and the Seastar was headed for Trebaz Sinara."
Asenka almost interrupted again, but she stopped herself. Trebaz Sinara… Every child in the Principalities had grown up listening to stories about the fabled island. According to legend, Trebaz Sinara was inhabited by the most terrible of monsters and surrounded by treacherous reefs that made landing there all but impossible, but legend also told that the island contained the hidden treasure of two thousand years of pirate raids-gold, precious gems, dragonshards, mystic relics… objects of unimaginable wealth and power. There were also said to be ancient tombs on the island, but who had built them, or what dark secrets they held within their sealed walls, remained a mystery.
Asenka knew that Trebaz Sinara was a real place, but she'd never spoken to anyone who had actually been there. Tresslar suddenly seemed less like a crotchety old man than a figure who had stepped right out of legend. As attentive as she'd been before, she was doubly so now.
Tresslar continued. "We'd sailed past the island numerous times on our way to Regalport or Orgalos, but we'd never attempted to make landfall before, though every time we passed Trebaz Sinara, Erdis made sure the Seastar always came in view of the island, even if it added days to our journey. He would stand at the railing and gaze out upon the deadly reefs that ringed the island, and though he wouldn't say anything, his eyes gleamed with desire, and we all knew that he was trying to imagine what riches and adventures might lie waiting for him there.
"Two weeks earlier we had put in to Skairn for supplies, and Erdis, who was something of a card sharp, had entered a high-stakes game of three-pronged crown between a number of prominent, not to mention notorious, sea captains. It was even rumored that several barons were in attendance. However, since Erdis was the only one of the Seastar present, I cannot confirm this. The game lasted for three days straight, and when it was over, Erdis had managed to double his money, but one of the players who owed Erdis had run out of funds, and he paid off his debt with a treasure map.
"I know what you're thinking: every lowlife gambler in the Principalities tries to pay off his or her debts with false treasure maps, but this debtor was a merchant lord of some repute and was also a longstanding acquaintance of Erdis's, so he accepted the map without even looking it over, though in truth Erdis was doubtful it would prove to be of any real value. Once back aboard the Seastar, and after getting some much-needed sleep, Erdis finally examined the map. He couldn't believe what he was looking at: the map depicted the northeastern tip of Trebaz Sinara, and what's more, it showed a route through the reefs. Erdis could no more resist the map's lure than a starving wolf can resist a plump, slow-footed sheep, so we set sail immediately. Two weeks later we dropped anchor off the coast of Trebaz Sinara.