As soon as the ships left the waves, Minion shipwrights had performed airborne inspections of the ships’ hulls. Everyone was relieved when the warriors reported that they saw nothing suspicious. The ever-skeptical Wigg had insisted that one of them carry him in her arms and let him see for himself, but even the First Wizard could find no apparent damage.
Still, Wigg remained concerned. He knew that these first inspections might mean little, for if azure water had seeped into the ships’ timbers, it could be doing damage sight unseen. Because there was no way to be certain, all he could do was wait and continue to order regular inspections. Of perhaps even greater concern was the supposedly great distance to Shashida-if indeed that was where they were headed. But other worries also gnawed at the old wizard-concerns that had less to do with the perpetual light, the monotonous view, or the state of the ships’ hulls.
Like Tristan, Wigg was bone-tired and sick of seeing so much death and destruction. The three centuries since the end of the Sorceresses’ War had given him a long time to reflect. Then the Coven had unexpectedly returned, and with them yet another period of violence, political uncertainty, and upheaval in the craft that had persisted almost without pause right up to the present day. Although he tried his best not to show it, the defeat of the Coven and the powerful Vagaries servants who followed them had taken their toll on him. There had been little time in which to simply laugh, live, and love-the truly important things that make life worth living. Moreover, he adored Abbey and missed her keenly, every passing day forcing him to wonder whether he would ever see her again.
But even these concerns paled when compared with the singular worry that had troubled him from the moment the subtle matter had been so unexpectedly released in the Redoubt and tempted him and his friends into this strange quest. More than anything, he worried about what they might find in Shashida and what effect it would have on Tristan.
Wigg was not Tristan and Shailiha’s father. Even so, since their births he had carefully watched theJin’Sai andJin’Saiou grow to adulthood. He had done all that he could to shape their values and beliefs according to the principles of the Vigors, and had he been their real father he could not be prouder. He had witnessed their nearly simultaneous births while using the craft to help their mother, Morganna, deal with her pain, and he had comforted Nicholas I as he watched his wife suffer. As had been foretold in the Tome, an azure glow surrounded the blessed event, assuring all that the Chosen Ones had finally come. And since the deaths of the king, the queen, and the other members of the Directorate of Wizards on that tragic day of Tristan’s aborted coronation, Wigg knew that he alone could best serve as the Chosen Ones’ mentor. As his responsibility grew, so did his worry for them.
This is what vexes me so, he realized-the loss of so many loved ones and friends to the horrors of the Vagaries. The loss of the Chosen Ones would be felt by us all, to be sure, but such a catastrophe would tear my heart in two.
In truth he had always worried more for Tristan than for Shailiha, and there were ample reasons why. Tristan was the impulsive one, the headstrong one, the one who always challenged every answer with yet another question. Shailiha was more thoughtful and better able to harness her emotions. She was every bit as capable a leader as her brother had come to be-perhaps even more so, given her greater proclivity to think before acting. But because Tristan was prophesied to be the first of them to try and bring peace to the warring nations of Rustannica and Shashida, Wigg’s worry for him was the greatest.
Every soul aboard these two ships was risking his or her life to find Shashida, and not knowing the nature of its culture was also deeply unsettling. If the Ones truly were the world’s greatest masters of the Vigors, it should follow that they would be compassionate and understanding. But what if they were not, and their only interest in Tristan was some arcane use of his blood to win their terrible war for them? Wigg wondered. Could this be what the Tome referred to when it said that Tristan’s blood would serve some higher purpose than had ever been seen before? After so many aeons of war, had the Ones become like thePon Q’tar, and were they now willing to win at any price-including Tristan’s death? Or in the end would they-
Suddenly an urgent pounding was heard on the doors. Pushing aside his thoughts, Wigg placed his wine glass on the table.
“Enter!” he called out.
The doors parted and Scars stood there. Without invitation the first mate hurried into the room and approached Wigg, a concerned look on his face.
Wigg sat up quickly. “What is it?” he asked. “Has something happened?”
“One of the Night Witch patrols found something ahead in the channel,” Scars answered. “Tristan wants you to come right away.”
Wigg came to his feet, his eagerness temporarily brushing aside his pain. “Is it Shashida?” he asked breathlessly.
“I wasn’t told,” Scars answered. “Come-we must hurry!”
Just then Wigg felt theTammerland stop in midair, telling him that Jessamay was causing the ship to hover. Wasting no time, Wigg and Scars headed for the cabin door.
When they reached the bow topside they found Tristan, Tyranny, and Jessamay there, huddled around a lone Night Witch commander and simultaneously bombarding her with questions. Many warriors had also rushed forward to hear what she had to say. Wigg approached and elbowed his way through the crowd.
“A ship, you say?” he heard Tristan ask. “What kind of ship? Where is she?”
The Night Witch Tristan was questioning looked rather young, and she seemed intimidated by her anxious superiors. She looked at herJin’Sai with an expression of subservience.
“Yes, a ship,” she answered. “She looks very old and her timbers are black. I daresay she’s easily the size of ours.”
Seeing Wigg, Tristan asked, “Could she be another Black Ship? Did Black Ships exist before those that you and the other wizards built to serve in the Sorceresses’ War?”
Wigg scowled. “It’s possible, I suppose, although I never considered it. The plans and accompanying enchantments for the Black Ships were found in the Caves of the Paragon, so someone might have used them before we did and then returned them to their hiding place. We always assumed that the documents were left behind by the Ones, but we could never be sure.”
Wigg gave the Night Witch a commanding look. “What is the condition of this ship?” he asked. “Is anyone aboard her?”
The Night Witch shook her head. “We saw no one,” she answered. “Nor did we board her, for fear that craft use might be afoot. Her hull is nearly gone, and she lies beached on a huge rock shelf along one channel wall. She rests on what remains of her port side. Much of her is smashed beyond salvage.”
Wigg nodded. “You were right not to board her,” he said. “Can you tell us anything else?”
“Only that if you wish to view her, you should do so from a hovering litter,” she answered. “The channel narrows up ahead and it looks barely large enough for our ships to pass through. From here on, the channel zigzags. Trying to keep the ships away from the rock walls while also inspecting the wreck from the ships’ decks would be difficult.”
“How far away is she?” Wigg asked.
The young Night Witch thought for a moment. “Distance is difficult to gauge here, but I would guess that the site is about two leagues off our bow. Fresh warriors should be able to keep a litter hovering for a sufficient time as you search the wreck and then bring you home without difficulty.”
“Thank you,” Tristan said. “You have done well. Go and rest.”
After clicking her boot heels together, the tired young warrior gave Tristan a short bow, then went off to go belowdecks and find a place to sleep.
Tristan gave Wigg a wry smile. “What say you?” he asked. “Do you feel up to a little adventure?”
Perhaps it was only his earlier thoughts come back to haunt him, but Wigg sensed peril up ahead. The discovery of a vessel resembling a Black Ship gone aground in this newly birthed channel seemed imposs
ible. Of even greater concern was whatever terrible force had tossed her onto the rocks, and that the channel narrowed markedly. Even so, he knew that this find must be seen.
“Very well,” he answered Tristan. “But we must be careful.”
Tristan looked over at Scars. “Wigg, Tyranny, and I will go,” he ordered. “Have a litter made ready at once. Two hundred armed warriors will accompany us. Tell them to stay alert, because we cannot know what awaits us. You and Jessamay will stay here to mind theTammerland. And send a messenger to theEphyra, informing Astrid and Phoebe what’s going on.”
As Scars rushed off, Tyranny gave Tristan a grateful look. “Thank you for taking me along,” she said. “Truth be told, if you hadn’t asked me, I’d be pitching a fit right now.”
Tristan let go a short laugh. “I know,” he answered. “But don’t chalk it up to kindness. I will need a maritime expert out there, and that’s you.”
He turned to see a litter being untied from the deck and a host of warriors rushing to man it. “Let’s go,” he said to Wigg and Tyranny. “If nothing else, this should prove interesting.”
Wigg raised an eyebrow in Tyranny’s direction and the privateer smiled back, acknowledging Tristan’s gift for understatement. They climbed into the litter, and the Minion bearers took it aloft.
No sooner had the litter become airborne than its passengers heard a great tumult from theTammerland ’s crowded decks. As hundreds of Minion warriors cried out in wonderment, Tristan, Wigg, and Tyranny turned to look.
The subtle matter secured in Wigg’s quarters had somehow freed itself from its glass vial and come soaring through one of the open windows on theTammerland ’s starboard side. The amazing substance twinkled brightly in the light of the radiance stones as it flew in a long stream to find its freedom in the air above the water. Everyone stood gaping as it collected near the departing litter for a moment, then streamed away over the water and down the length of the channel.
Knowing how important the magical substance was to their safe return home, Tristan shouted out orders to the litter bearers to follow it and keep it in their sight. Like Wigg, he was terrified that they might lose possession of the subtle matter forever.
What is it doing? Tristan asked himself as he felt the litter lurch forward and pick up speed. And what in the name of the Afterlife caused it to so suddenly free itself? Suspecting correctly that the ride was about to become a wild one, Tristan gripped one side of the litter for dear life, then shouted to Wigg and Tyranny to do the same.
As they tore down the length of the channel in pursuit of the subtle matter, the oncoming wind ripped at their hair and clothing and caused their eyes to water. Tristan had never seen Minion warriors fly so strenuously, and he knew that they couldn’t keep this pace up for long. But the priceless subtle matter was pulling away from them, despite how hard the straining Minions pulled the litter through the sky. Knowing that they would soon lose track of it, Tristan made a decision.
“Despite your injuries, can you empower this litter and fly it faster?” he shouted at Wigg. “We’re falling behind!”
“Yes!” Wigg shouted back, trying to be heard above the rushing wind. “But if I do, the litter bearers must release us and then follow as best they can! That means we will arrive at the shipwreck unguarded, and there is no guarantee that I can keep pace with the subtle matter! I won’t be able to keep this speed up for long, but it seems that I must try if we are to have any chance of staying with it!”
“Then do it!” Tristan shouted back.
He immediately worked his way to one side of the litter, then the other, as he barked out identical orders to the bearers. On his hand signal, the Minions simultaneously let go of the litter, then started trying to keep pace alongside.
To Tristan’s horror, the litter plunged straight down toward the azure waves. Just as it was about to hit, Wigg’s use of the craft blessedly took hold and the litter lurched upward again and gained more speed. But as he strained to look ahead, Tristan could see that their maneuver had cost them precious time and that the subtle matter had gained even more ground in its chase toward the unknown.
Suddenly a sharp right turn loomed up ahead. The subtle matter veered effortlessly to negotiate it, then disappeared around the bend between the two rock walls. Hanging on as best they could, Tristan and Tyranny nearly fell from the careening litter as Wigg banked it hard to the right, trying to make the dangerous turn. Zooming through the narrow bend, the litter righted quickly and tore on in pursuit of the fleeing subtle matter.
Tristan strained his vision to try to make out the subtle matter, but the oncoming wind made seeing difficult. Holding onto the litter for dear life, he inched his way closer to Wigg.
The strain showed clearly on the wizard’s face, forcing Tristan to wonder how much longer Wigg could keep them aloft. No one knew what effect the azure water might have on humans should they crash into the channel, and the prospect terrified him. Inching closer, he placed his mouth near Wigg’s ear.
“Can you see the subtle matter?” he shouted.
“Yes!” Wigg shouted back, the wind whipping violently at his hair and robe. “But it still gains ground! When we reach the wreck we must decide!”
“I know-we must either carry on after the subtle matter or stop and view the wrecked ship!” Tristan answered. “But the ship is going nowhere! We must keep after the subtle matter at all costs!”
“Perhaps!” Wigg answered, every fiber of his being trying to summon yet more power into the speeding the litter. “But I’m nearly exhausted! If we crash into the azure water, no one knows what will become of us!”
As another sharp bend approached, Tristan considered Wigg’s warning. The subtle matter was important, he decided, but it wasn’t worth their lives.
“Then put the litter down alongside the wreck, if you must!” he shouted.
Still trying to keep the subtle matter in view, Wigg nodded, then threw the litter around another sharp bend, nearly driving the litter into the rock wall on the left-hand side. Then came another quick series of sharp turns. During the third turn, the right leading corner of the litter struck the rock wall, smashing part of the litter to bits. Most of the litter’s right side suddenly gave way and tumbled into the azure water with a great splash. As Wigg desperately negotiated the next few blind turns while also trying to keep up speed, the damaged litter rocked sickeningly, threatening to throw everyone from its meager safety and into the sea.
As the litter rounded the next bend, the sidewalls started to narrow dangerously, adding another threat to the pursuers’ plight. Then they were suddenly around the bend and chasing down another length of straight channel. As the litter carried them along above the waves, Wigg, Tristan and Tyranny finally saw the shipwreck in the distance. Looking farther, they saw something else-something disheartening and totally unexpected.
They were fast approaching a dead end.
Like the channel walls, the rocky edifice at the channel’s end rose straight up out of the sea. Its craggy surfaces reached all the way to the radiance stones lining the channel ceiling, and it stretched from one side to the other, leaving no option but to stop the litter in midair. As Wigg slowed the litter, Tristan scanned the wall. He could find no cracks or caves in it, telling him that their journey to Shashida had reached an abrupt and unsuccessful end. Tristan and Tyranny looked around for the subtle matter that had led them here, but it had vanished.
Using his last bit of energy, Wigg gently set the litter down atop the huge rock ledge in the right-hand channel wall. The litter was dwarfed by the ledge and the great wrecked ship that lay on it. As the three passengers left the wrecked litter, the two hundred armed Minions finally reached this strange place. At a hand signal from Tristan they drew their dreggans and landed warily atop the rocky shelf.
Tristan gave Wigg a sad look. “It seems that this is where our dream ends,” he said. “I had such hopes…”
“You’re right,” Tyranny said. “We can do no
thing but go back. If Khristos still waits for us on the far shore, we will have to fight our way out of the Caves.”
“So it would seem.” Wigg replied. “But for now let us finish what we came here to do.” As Wigg turned to look at the great wrecked ship, so did Tristan, Tyranny, and the hundreds of warriors.
Despite her ravaged condition, the vessel remained magnificent. Easily the size of theTammerland, she rested on her port side, just as the young Night Witch had reported. Her hull seemed cannibalized, as though her hull ribs and timbers had been chewed on by some great unknown beast. In some places, parts of her ribs still arched away from her gunwales like wizened fingers. Broken masts and sail spars lay everywhere atop the rocky ledge, and battered and torn sailcloth draped her topside like dingy burial shrouds.
Like those of theTammerland and theEphyra, her timbers were dark as night. Seeing such a once magnificent vessel looking as if it had been fed upon by some ravenous creature was an eerie feeling. As the wind blew through her wooden bones it whistled hauntingly, as if trying to warn the audacious visitors to flee before they too came under the spell of whatever had done this terrible deed.
Tristan walked to the wreck and reached up to touch one of the few remaining hull ribs. Ashen flakes loosened from it to drift away on the channel breeze. Hoping to find more clues to the ship’s history, he led Wigg and Tyranny on a long walk down her side and toward her stern. An elaborately carved plaque affixed to her stern readIntrepidus.
“Is that Old Eutracian?” he asked Wigg.
The wizard nodded. “In our modern tongue, she would be known as theIntrepid. ”
“She is easily as large as theTammerland, and she shows similar lines,” Tristan said. “I think that she was built from the same plans that you and the Directorate members used so long ago to build your fleet against the Coven. Could she have been one of yours?”
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