Then she felt strong hands grab her from behind, and Tarl’s shout broke her concentration. “No! Stop!” He pulled her around to face him. “Don’t kill my brothers! There’s no need to kill them!”
Shal stared at him, taken aback by his regained strength, but not comprehending his message at all.
Cerulean nosed in and blocked the cleric, pushing him back with his body. Shal took up the spell where she had left off. The waters hadn’t stopped swirling. A few movements of her hands and the water was churning with renewed ferocity. The schooner swirled crazily and within minutes disappeared nose-first into the growing spiral. The whirlpool swallowed the boat like a giant maw gulping down an insect. Then the swirling stopped, but the water continued to froth and boil.
Shal spun around and quickly ran to Tarl, who was sitting on the deck behind Cerulean. She squatted beside him and held his face in her hands and made him look at her. “Are—are you okay, Tarl? Do you know where you are?”
“I’m … sorry,” said Tarl, rubbing his head with both hands. “I was dreaming … about the graveyard. It was so real…. The vampire was standing right there.” Tarl pointed at the rail along the stern, where Shal had been standing only moments before. He killed them … my brothers, one after another. He wouldn’t stop killing! I’m … sorry.”
“Hey, it’s all right, Tarl. Are you sure you’re okay now? Really okay?”
“I … I guess I am.” Tarl held his hand out to Shal and started to stand. “I feel completely rested, as if I hadn’t used my clerical powers in days. I’m just jittery from the nightmare. Is your shoulder all right?”
Shal didn’t get a chance to answer because both she and Tarl turned as one when the captain shouted, “Sail’s loose again!” and they leaped like a team for the wayward piece of cloth. Unfortunately the winds were wilder than they had been, stirred even at this distance from the whirlwind force Shal had generated, and the sail flapped high, slapping loudly against itself. It slipped teasingly down and then flapped up again before they could catch it.
It took several tries before Shal caught hold of the sail. Tarl retied the knot, and they went to the bow of the boat, where Ren was securing another guy wire at the captain’s direction. As before, once the sail was secured, it filled gloriously, and the small ship scudded forward at a brisk pace.
The captain had steered wide to avoid the still-blackened waters at the mouth of the Stojanow River, and now the ferry was finally approaching the opposite shore.
“You’ll be wantin’ to debark in a hurry,” said the captain, addressing Ren. “You can be certain if a ship of the Black Watch goes down, there’ll be more followin’. There’s no way I can anchor. I’m afraid that horse is gonna break a leg tryin’ to make it down to the water. How’d it get on here, anyhow?”
“The same way he’ll get off,” answered Shal, pointing to the cloth at her belt.
I’ll try the gangplank, the horse argued.
And what? Dive off it? Shal pursed her lips, stared him down, and pointed once more. With no further complaints, Cerulean dove in.
“Well, I’ll be!” The captain looked in awe at Shal. “I thought that little storm ye whipped up was pretty fancy, but makin’ a horse disappear into your belt—well, that’s some magic!” He wagged a finger at the three of them and said, “Now, get off a my boat while the gettin’s good. The water here should be about ten foot deep, so its safe to dive.”
Shal quickly added some of their gear to the Cloth of Many Pockets, then she, Ren, and Tarl dived overboard and swam for shore.
The captain had already turned the ferry away and was well out in the water before the three even made it to the rocky beach.
“So what now?” Shal pulled off her soaked leather boots and stood in a sandy section of the boulder-strewn beach. “We got out of the city, but the captain was right. The Black Watch will be after us again. And you can be sure they’ll let Cadorna know we’re alive. We’re not accomplishing anything sitting on this beach.”
“You’re right. We need to get away from the beach,” said Ren. “We’ll go north and west, toward the graveyard. We’ll rest for the night, and then we’ll help Tarl get his hammer back.”
“No,” said Tarl softly.
“I understand,” said Ren. “If you aren’t ready, I have my own sights set on Valjevo Castle and that gutless monster that sends out assassins to murder women.” Ren wiped his salt-caked lips on his sleeve.
“No,” Tarl said again. “I’m ready. What I mean is that you won’t go with me. I’m the one who lost the hammer, and I’m the one who’s going to go get it.”
“Be realistic, Tarl,” Shal protested. “Just because you’re a cleric doesn’t mean you have to be a martyr!”
Ren walked around in front of Tarl, put his big hands on his friend’s shoulders, and gently pushed him back until he could sit him down on one of the boulders on the beach. “Shal’s right. Anyhow, we’ve been through all this before.”
The three argued heatedly until finally Tarl agreed to let Ren and Shal go with him. Since none of them wanted to sit in wet clothes with dusk setting in, waiting for soldiers to follow, they hiked inland, wide of the river, until they were a short distance from the graveyard, in a place with sufficient brush and cover to set up camp. Shal made a smokeless, arcane fire, but unfortunately it was heatless, too.
Ren volunteered to collect some wood. As he saw it, nobody from Phlan would attempt to come this way before morning, if at all. The creatures they had to worry about would more likely be repelled by a fire than drawn to it.
Alone together as they laid out their bedding and prepared a meager meal of dried fruits and meat, Shal and Tarl shared a brief few minutes of awkward silence.
Tarl cleared his throat and spoke hesitantly. “Shal, I really don’t know how to say this. I—I know you care for Ren—”
“It’s not the same,” Shal said softly.
Tarl looked straight into Shal’s green eyes. “Meaning?”
Shal held out her hands for Tarl’s. She had been so unsure of herself when they first met on the docks of Phlan that she was aware only of his tremendous kindness. Ren’s attraction to her had seemed justified somehow by her resemblance to Tempest, but Tarl’s she had not fully accepted. Even after he healed her in the temple, she’d felt he might simply be caught in the overwhelming emotion of the moment. But right now, as he grasped her hands and pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, she knew that Tarl’s affection was both strong and genuine. “Meaning I love you, Tarl.”
As warm and wonderful as she had felt every time Tarl had healed her, she felt twice as good now. A special electricity, an uncanny awareness of his touch, coursed through her as she felt his fingertips ever so gentle on her neck and back, his soft kiss on her forehead, and then the warmth of his breath in her ear as he whispered, “I love you, too, Shal.”
There was a considerable thrashing in the brush nearby, and the two pulled apart instantly and drew their weapons just in time to see Ren returning to their makeshift campsite.
“You’re not very graceful for a ranger!” Shal jested, fighting her own embarrassment.
“Every bit as graceful as I want to be,” said Ren, smiling wistfully.