She saw her mother standing as if carved from stone, with the proud sail billowing overhead. Beyond, past the transom and far down the foam-flecked line of the longship's wake, two black smudges lay against the horizon. These were the flat-ships of the sea creatures, and they remained well back.
Then her eyes were drawn back to the ship with a shock as Robyn groaned and staggered on the afterdeck. Immediately Tavish reached her side, holding Robyn's elbows and gently lowering her to the deck. Keane knelt beside the queen in another instant as Alicia raced down the center of the hull.
"I'm all right!" Robyn insisted as her daughter got there. Robyn sat up and brushed away the hands supporting her. "You'd think I was an old woman!"
"Are you really okay?" inquired Alicia, kneeling before her mother. For a moment, Robyn's eyes softened, and the younger woman saw a terrible exhaustion there.
"I… I just need to rest," the queen assured her.
For the first time since her mother's collapse, Alicia looked overhead. The once proud sail hung slack, undisturbed by any breath of wind, as if the real breeze had abandoned them at the same time as did the enchanted one.
"Swing out the oars! Clear those benches!" barked Brandon, and his crewmen scrambled to obey. He turned to Alicia, her own concern mirrored in his eyes. "We'll try to keep ahead of them until nightfall. Then we'll lose them in the dark and turn back to the west."
"Will that work?" asked Alicia, hating the sound of the question. Her faith was wavering, but she didn't want that fact to show.
"It's all we've got," replied Brandon with a shrug and a quizzical look at her.
Alicia rose from her knees and looked over the transom. Already, it seemed, the black dots had begun to grow.
In the darkest hours of the night, the longship Princess of Moonshae advanced across the black sea to the muffled strokes of oars, but no other sounds. For hours, the vessel slipped across the placid sea. The men labored at the oars. Even the Ffolk took turns wielding the heavy oaken poles, but they had no way of knowing whether or not the sea beasts on their great rafts were closing the distance.
Past midnight, the crew shuffled places once more. Those who had been resting took places on the rowing benches, while the exhausted sailors from the earlier shift tried to catch a little rest.
It was after this adjustment that the sailor, Luge, found himself at an oar, seated beside the gunwale of the longship. On each night of the voyage, he had performed his task faithfully, dropping one of the tiny bells over the side, plainly marking the longship's course for the pursuing hordes of the Underdeep.
Yet tonight he found himself with a problem. For the first time, the crew remained active through the hours of darkness, and Luge had yet to perform his duty. Not understanding why, he grew more and more agitated as time passed. Now he tried to maintain the pace of his oar while slipping a hand into his tunic, fumbling at the concealed pocket.
"Careful, by Tempus!" snarled a fellow sailor as Luge's oar collided with his neighbor's.
"Sorry," he grunted, turning to nod at the grumbling northman. At the same time, he placed his hand on the gunwale and allowed the tiny bell to drop into the water.
Immediately it began to ring.
The wind had abandoned them completely, Alicia told herself when she awakened to the pale blue light of predawn. An utterly still expanse of water surrounded them. It was too dark to see very far, but she had to wonder about the presence of the twin rafts.
Diffused light gave way to a banner of sunrise on the horizon, and details became apparent up to a mile away, and then two, except that there were no details, save for the eternal calm of the sea.
Then they could see three miles, and at the same time, they discovered the rafts. No one had to announce the observation; it was silently shared by every person on the ship. The two flat slabs came at them like huge, implacable sharks. They were close enough for the crew to hear the snapping of wide, fishlike jaws, and the slicing noise of the two massive rafts' passage over the water.
Not a breath of wind stirred the flat, seemingly endless sea. The only waves were the twin plumes cast by the Princess of Moonshae. The vessel, despite the efforts of the straining oarsmen, seemed to labor only with great reluctance through the water. In the hush, the rhythmic cadence of the sea beasts' paddling came to them, a dull pulsing that moved through the sea, sounding a beat of approaching doom.
"Stroke, you miserable lubbers!" shouted Brandon, but men could not increase their effort when it was already strained to the maximum. A martial chord suddenly rang through the air as Tavish again raised her harp, the need for stealth past. The playing of that enchanted weapon filled the weary sailors with strength, and once again the longship moved with a feeling approaching speed.
Yet it was not enough. After a few minutes of watching, it became apparent that the monsters still closed the gap between them.
"How did those devils find us?" spat the Prince of Gnarhelm, glaring to the rear as if his anger alone could incinerate the bizarre rafts.
"Through the dark of the night, no less," Alicia agreed. Subconsciously she looked for Keane. It seemed that now, with disaster so near at hand, the wizard was the only one who could offer them a chance of escape.
But he wasn't even paying attention. The princess saw him in the prow, peering before them, studying the flat water in their path. The mage's posture, his whole attitude, depicted raw tension. Abruptly he pulled a small vial of dust from a pouch of his robe and pinched a small portion of it between a finger and thumb. Then he let the dust fly, at the same time chanting the command words for a spell.
Alicia noticed that many of the crewmen were also watching the mage-as if they expect him to pull some kind of miraculous rabbit from his hat, she thought with annoyance. Then she realized with a flash of shame that she had been doing the same thing.
Abruptly all thoughts of salvation from that quarter were dashed when the mage stiffened, then whirled back to face Brandon and Knaff the Elder, who still manned the helm.
"Turn!" shrieked Keane, more agitated than Alicia had ever seen him. "That way-turn left!" He pointed, the tension in his body transferred in full to his voice. "Now, if you value your lives!"
Knaff hesitated a moment, looking to Brandon, but the captain didn't question the mage's warning. "Do it!" he bellowed, and the helmsman threw the rudder hard to port.
At her leisurely speed, the Princess of Moonshae didn't heel or rock from the force of the turn. Instead, the longship meandered through a sweeping, gradual change of direction. To Alicia, it seemed as though they were mired in mud. She stared at Keane, at the calm sea beyond him, and wondered if he had lost his mind.
A danger of the turn became apparent when she looked backward. The two broad rafts seemed much closer, and now, with the longship sailing across their path instead of away from them, they seemed to advance with shocking speed.
Then she became aware of a sound or vibration-an ominous rumble so deep that Alicia felt rather than heard it. The others, too, sensed the disturbance. All talk ceased, and even the oarsmen cocked their ears at the water as they strained with redoubled efforts toward their task. Alicia saw, with a sickening sense of shock, that the faces of many of the veteran seamen had blanched with terror.
The Princess of Moonshae began to tremble with a vibration that could no longer be doubted. It seized the vessel as if in a giant fist, and the longship quivered helplessly in its grasp. Still Alicia couldn't hear any audible noise, but the rumbling sensation reached into the pit of her stomach.