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Kolor looked at the wee bird in wonder, and then hissed to Brekki to proceed.

Once again oars quietly dipped in synchronization, and the Nordavind glided on.

And still the dim glow of the sun edged up through the shrouding mist.

A candlemark passed, and then another, fog aswirl in their slow wake.

Time edged forward.

Another candlemark slid by, and then once again Scruff snatched a tress and dove into the pocket, and again Camille hissed a warning to Kolor. Oars were raised, and all fell silent, but for plip s of water dripping from the blades. Left and right did eyes stare through the grey shroud, and once more to the larboard did a surge in the water come, this time close enough to see the point of the heave as something enormous just under the surface passed by. Yet what leviathan thing or creature caused the bulge, none could say, for only the surge did they see.

Once more they waited in silence, until finally Scruff took to Camille’s shoulder again. And once more did they quietly row.

And still the glow of the sun crept across the fog, yet it did not burn away the cloaking mist, as if the shroud itself defied all. Even so, the sun, or rather its diffuse glimmer, provided a guidepost to steer by, else they could have been rowing in circles, for all Camille knew.

Becloaked in mist, across the chill, glassy sea they went, Brekki mutely marking the beat, oars dipping in concert, the Nordavind gliding in near silence, though ripples of passage spread wide.

The glow of the sun passed through the zenith and started a slow slide down the sky, and still the ship went on, none knowing how far they had come nor how far was yet to go.

And somewhere in the deeps, an unknown thing did glide.

“Captain, ahead,” sissed Big Jack. “I think I see…”

The day had fallen toward midafternoon, the glow now angled in the shroud off the starboard beam, and all hands wondered if they would ever come to the end of this dismal murk, with its chill dampness reaching unto the very bones. Yet the fog seemed to have thinned a bit, and Camille and Kolor strained to see what Big Jack “There!” sissed Camille.

A distance ahead and dimly seen through the clammy mist a wall of twilight reared up into the sky.

“ ’Tis the border,” grunted Kolor, grinning. “We’ve come to the far side.”

Forward they glided, Brekki meting out the slow and silent beat.

Yet as they neared, Scruff again grabbed a golden tress and dove into the pocket.

Ares oppe! Brekki silently signalled.

Slowly the ship glided to a stop. plip!.. plip!.. plip!.. dripped the lifted blades.

No heave in the water came.

No leviathan moved past. plip…

They waited…

… eighty-three souls afloat on the glassy surface of a windless, becloaked sea.

A full candlemark slipped away, the diffuse glow of the unseen sun eking downward through the mist.

And still Scruff remained in the pocket.

“Skipskaptein Kolor,” whispered Brekki, then he glanced at Camille and switched to the new speech, “if we do not move soon, we’ll be caught on this sea in the night.”

Kolor nodded, but did not reply.

And still they waited… silent on a waveless sea…

The glow sank…

Kolor glanced at Camille and turned up a hand.

Camille glanced down at Scruff. The wee bird yet trembled in the high vest pocket, tugging now and again on her hair. She looked back at Kolor and shook her head.

Finally, Kolor took a deep breath and whispered to Brekki, “Ahead a stroke at a time, long pauses in between. If something lies in wait, mayhap we can slip by.”

Brekki signalled, and oars dipped and pulled a single stroke.

Ripples eased across the water…

The ship glided forward then slowly came to a stop.

Another single stroke…

More ripples…

Another glide and stop…

Another str From below the Dragonship itself, monstrous suckered tentacles came looping up out of the water to lash through the fog and grasp at the sides of the ship. Recoiling Dwarves cried out and snatched up axes at hand, to hack and chop at the boneless limbs, but their blades did not cut. A huge, slimy arm wrapped about Belkor at the tiller and he was wrenched overboard, his screams lost as he was lashed under the chill sea. A tentacle whipped ’round one of the sternward Dwarves, and Kolor snatched his axe from his belt and leapt forward to hack at the slimy thing, to little effect, the tough hide resisting his furious blows, and the shrieking Dwarf was yanked into the water and down. Another ropy arm came coiling at shrilling Camille, but Big Jack, shouting a wordless howl, with a great overhand stroke slammed Lady Bronze down onto the grisly member, shearing through, black blood flying wide. As the shorn-off tentacle lashed and writhed, the gushing stump was whipped back into the water, and the creature below went mad. The water foamed in its fury, and a great stench filled the air. And then another tentacle came hurtling out of the water to whip around Big Jack and savagely contract in a crushing embrace. Without conscious thought, screaming, Camille leapt forward and slammed Lady Sorciere’s staff down on the ropy arm, and lo! a splinter stabbed in, and the tentacle fell limp to the deck, to be slowly dragged back overboard. Released, Big Jack staggered and fell, Lady Bronze clanging to the deck, even as another tentacle whipped forth. Shrieking, once more Camille struck with the staff, and that arm too fell slack. And again she struck and again, and two more tentacles fell away. And shrilling, Camille raced down the ship, striking left and right, left and right, left and Of a sudden the monster was gone, leaving stunned Dwarves behind.

Camille stumbled forward another step or two, then fell to her knees, weeping hysterically.

“Quick,” shouted Kolor, even as he leapt to the steerboard. “To the strokes! Let us leave this bedamned sea behind.”

Dwarves leapt to obey the command-some oars broken, some gone, some yet in the strakes-and in moments the craft was under way, Kolor calling the cadence, for Brekki was among the missing.

Wincing a bit from bruised ribs, Big Jack lifted Camille up in his massive arms and carried her to the bow. And he sat with her in his lap and stroked her hair as she clung to him and sobbed uncontrollably.

And even as Scruff scrambled free of the vest pocket, they came to the twilight border and through and into the slanting sunlight beyond. And a strong wind blew off the starboard stern, filling the four square sails, and across the waters fled the Nordavind, leaving the Sea of Mist behind.

Steadily the Nordavind hove across the deeps, days passing one by one, the disk on Lady Sorciere’s staff waning from full, to gibbous, to half, and then crescent, time rapidly running out. And when there were but four days left ere the whole of the moon would be gone, in late afternoon, a broad, mountainous island came into view. Camille stood in the bow of the Dragonship, her heart thudding in her breast. Delirium or no, the dying man had been right, for not only was an island where he said it would be, but Camille could see a great citadel sitting on a high hill, the mighty fortress looking down upon a small, seashore town. As to the rest, much was covered with trees, though a great spread of cultivated fields surrounded the citadel itself. It had to be Troll Island.

“This ain’t right,” said Big Jack behind her. “You going alone onto th’ isle just ain’t right.”

Camille shook her head. “We’ve argued this out for a whole week, Jack, and my mind is firm: Lady Sorciere said I must go alone, and alone I will go.”

At Camille’s side, Kolor said, “It’s no use, Big Jack. Besides, she’s right. If Lady Sorciere said to go alone, then you, me, my crew, we’ll just have to let be.”

“Still, it just ain’t-”

“Jack, I am the only one who can easily pass for a Human slave, not the Dwarves, and certainly not-”

“But I’m Human,” protested Big Jack.