To Jak, Cale said, "Go release the slaves, little man. See if any of them can sail this ship to take the rest back to land. We are leaving as soon as they're out."
Jak nodded. "I saw keys for the cages on one of the corpses." He turned and sped off.
"Show me, Mags," Cale said.
Magadon furrowed his brow in concentration and a rosy glow haloed his head. He held out his hand to Cale. Cale took it, felt his mind meet Magadon's, and saw what the guide saw through Riven's eyes. .. .
They were on a ship sailing its way through the night and the dark water. A soft, inexplicable green glow shrouded the entire vessel. Cale had no notion what it was. The ship sported three masts to Demon Binder's two, and its sails were triangular rather than square.
Riven stood on the maindeck and looked out over the sea. An enormous peak exploded up from the sea behind the ship. Sheer sides rose from the waters and extended toward starry skies. A single tower on a high promontory was backlit by the starlight.
Cale knew the name of the island, though he had never seen it before. Everyone who lived near the waters of the Inner Sea had heard of Traitor's Isle. Sailors used the island and its magical tower as a distance marker. Cale let the mental image of the ship sink into his mind. He extended his senses to feel the shadows aboard and. . . .
Felt nothing.
He tried again but still could not feel the shadows aboard the other ship. Something was blocking him.
The green glow. It was somehow blocking his ability to transport himself aboard. He clenched his fists in frustration. He considered trying to transport them into the water near the ship, but dismissed the idea. Even a small mistake in the transport could leave them alone on the open sea. Besides, even if he could put them next to the ship's hull, how then would they get aboard?
"What is it?" Magadon said.
"A problem," Cale answered, and left it at that. He released his hold on Magadon and considered.
He looked toward the hold. Jak had hung a rope ladder from the top of the hatch. One by one, the freed slaves climbed up it and stood on deck. They wore only ragged tunics and trousers. All were bootless. All had a tenday's growth of beard on their faces. Many coughed or swayed on their feet.
Their gazes went to the dead and unconscious Thayans, still scattered about the deck, to Cale, to Magadon. Most gave hard smiles and nods.
They stood about near the hatch, obviously unsure what to do. Other than the coughing, they looked to be in decent health, nothing like the slaves Cale had seen in Skullport.
Cale and Magadon walked over to the slaves as more continued to climb the ladder. Before Cale could speak, one of the former slaves, a short, thickset man of about thirty winters, stepped forth and said, "Seems we owe you thanks, lubber, for freeing us and giving these Thayan flesh peddlers what they deserved." He grinned-his front teeth were gone-and extended his hand. "So, thanks to you."
Cale took the man's hand in his own. Nods around. Murmured gratitude.
The man had called Cale "lubber." Cale's hopes rose.
"You are a sailor, then?"
"Aye," said the man.
"As are we all," said another bass voice, from just inside the hold. A thicket of black hair appeared in the hatchway, followed by a head the size of a bucket, and a body as large as a great orc. A black beard, shot through with gray, hid his mouth, but the man's dark eyes carried a hardness Cale had seen only in his own reflection and Riven's single eye. An overlarge, misshapen nose jutted from his face like a weathered crag.
"Captain on deck," said the man with whom Cale had been conversing, and the rest of the former slaves stood at attention.
"Ease, men," the captain said, and lifted himself fully out of the hatch. The men relaxed and the captain's gaze swept the ship, the sea.
"This whore is still underway. Jeg, Hessim, Veer, Pellak, get the mainsail furled. Nom, get her anchor down until we know what's what. Ashin, get on the helm."
Without hesitation, the men snapped to their duties. Cale considered protesting, thought better of it, and got out of their way.
"Runnin' hard at night," the captain said to Cale. "Thayans are fool sailors. You're not seamen, are you?"
"No," Cale answered.
"But you two and the little fellow would be the men who freed us."
Cale nodded, as did Magadon.
"Then you have my gratitude and that of my crew." He extended his hand. "Captain Evrel Kes, out of Marsember. These are my men. "
Cale took his hand. Despite the captain's age and the fact that his large body had gone somewhat fat, there was strength in his grip.
"Erevis Cale," Cale answered.
"Magadon, out of Starmantle."
"Jak Fleet," said the little man's voice as his red head popped out of the hold and he climbed onto deck. To Cale, Jak said, "That's everyone. Still some stores down there. Grain and spices, I think."
Cale realized the captain had come up from the hold last, only after all his men had been freed and sent above. Cale liked him already.
Above and around them, Cale and his comrades watched as the captain's men scaled the mast and began drawing up the mainsail. They hollered down to Nom to drop anchor.
"I can see, you fish turds," Nom shot back from the bow, and released the anchor.
Evrel smiled at his men's banter.
From the helmsman's perch, Ashin called, "This one's still alive, Captain."
"As are a few of these," called another crewman, sticking his foot into one of the Thayans Cale had left unconscious on the deck.
Evrel looked at Cale and said, "The punishment at sea for slavery is execution."
Cale saw no bloodlust in the captain's eyes, no need for vengeance. Evrel was simply proposing to do what he saw as his duty.
"You are captain of this ship, now," Cale answered, and not even Jak protested.
Evrel nodded. "You know the law of the sea, Ashin. They go over. All of them."
Ashin nodded, heaved the still immobilized slaver over his shoulder, carried him to the side, and cast him over. Three other crewmen threw the unconscious Thayans over the rail.
"The corpses go after them," said Evrel to the crew. "Step to it, lads. This ship stinks badly enough."
The crew gathered the remaining dead and pitched them over, but not before stripping them of weapons and valuables. The captain watched it all, then turned back to Cale.
"I left my manners in the hold," he said, and smiled. "Well met, Erevis, Magadon, and Jak. Now, if you were sailors, I'd wonder at a mutiny. As it is, I wonder how you got aboard. I do not see another ship."
"Spell," Cale said, and left it at that.
Evrel frowned. Cale knew that sailors were notoriously suspicious of magic, and captains more than most.
"You're hunting Thayans, then?" Evrel asked. "Or slavers maybe? Or did this crew in particular do something to run afoul of you three?"
Cale shook his head. "None of those. What we are hunting escaped us. The slavers just got in our way."
The captain stared at him a moment.
"Reason enough," Evrel said. "And fortunate for me and my men. I'll remember to stay out of your way."
The dropped anchor noticeably slowed the ship. The rest of Evrel's crew, having cleared the decks of bodies, set about familiarizing themselves with the vessel's operation and layout. The heavyset man Cale had spoke with earlier issued frequent orders. Cale assumed him to be Evrel's first mate. He soon walked over to confer with his captain.
"My first mate," Evrel explained. "Gorse Olis."
Gorse nodded a greeting. Cale, Jak, and Magadon reciprocated.
Jak asked, "How did you and your crew end up here, like this?"