"No," he seethed. "She's coming back to answer for what she did to me! And she's coming back because this is where she belongs!"

"As you command, but I want it known that I protest the decision."

"Protest all you want, Jervis, you're not changing it," he snorted. "She's your problem until she gets here. Handle her."

"Your Majesty is too kind," Jervis drawled, then he blew out his breath and cleared his throat. The two sailors, thinking that the audience was at an end, scrambled away quickly and quietly and reported their gossip to the other sailors.

That gossip floated around, going from sailor to Marine and Marine to sailor, until it finally had managed to drift to the ears of Miranda. The mink, hearing it while playing a game of kiss and tell with a rather handsome leopard Wikuni Marine, relayed the content of the message back to Keritanima as they sat eating breakfast the next morning. Keritanima gave her maid a calm look after learning what transpired between Jervis and her father, then she smiled. "Good," she announced. "That's exactly what I wanted him to hear."

"Explain why losing the trump card of getting him with Sorcery is a good thing," Miranda asked curiously.

"Because I'm not going to kill him, Miranda," she answered sedately. "But if thinks I mean to, he'll waste precious time and resources protecting himself against it. Those are resources we don't have to outmaneuver when the time comes to do things for real."

"Ah. Personally, I think broadcasting what you can do is a bit excessive."

"It's something Jervis already knows. He would tell everyone eventually. Best to get it in the open now."

"Clever."

"Thank you," she smiled. "Pass the biscuits, will you?"

Rumor spread to the other ships as they travelled west, and those rumors ended up in messages sent by priests back to the homeland. The rumors spread in the streets of Wikuna, the kingdom's capital, and as rumors tended to do, they got wildly exaggerated and out of control. But the rumors served their own purpose in Keritanima's plan, when they reached the ears of the heads of the twenty-nine Great Houses of the Wikuni nobility. Twenty-eight of those men and women heard the rumors, realized that they had some basis in truth, and then began thinking of ways they could benefit from the fateful final meeting of father and daughter. More than one dreamed of wresting the Sun Throne away from the house of Eram. And they began to make plans of their own.

Time aboard a ship, even a ship with such dangerous individuals, tends to blur as days pass to weeks that pass into months. For over a month, the convoy of Wikuni ships sailed west, due west, with very little change happening aboard ship. The spy Jervis did seem to back off from the Princess, giving her all the space she seemed to want to continue with her endless writing. The satchel at her feet expanded in volume with each passing day, and still its contents remained a complete mystery. Some sailors managed to discover that Jervis had made several attempts to procure the satchel, but each ended in disaster. It also caused the deaths of the three non-priest Wikuni that had boarded with him, as they were killed in the act of trying to get their hands on the satchel or read their contents. After losing his three colleagues, Jervis seemed to lose all interest in making yet another attempt. The way he looked at the Princess changed over the days, days of terse comments between them, as the rabbit tried to get the Princess to open up and talk to him, and she threatened him with physical or magical violence every time he got on her nerves. Because she most certainly had the power to kill him instantly any time she wished, the rabbit Wikuni was wise in backing off whenever the Princess' hackles started to rise.

Aside from the fatalities among the spy's group, there was little more to make the voyage exceptional. The convoy, too large to be challenged by pirates, Zakkites, or singular trading ships that they encountered, continued west under nearly full sail, racing for a date with destiny. The presence of her Highness, her retinue, and Jervis became routine to the sailors and Marines guarding them, a routine of fear of the groups and a tense feeling that the entire ship could explode into chaos at any moment. The sailors that managed to eavesdrop on Jervis' communications with the King were disappointed that his report rarely changed from day to day. Each report said little more than the Princess was continuing with her writing, he had no way to find out what she was writing, and then he would report how many times that day the Princess had threatened to execute him. Damon Eram was highly unhappy each time he received the report, demanding to Jervis he find out, but was at a loss when the rabbit calmly asked who would take his place when Keritanima killed him. The daily report seemed to take its toll on the frumpy, buck-toothed rabbit Wikuni, his fur shedding at a frightful rate and his eyes sinking into his head as the days passed. His spotless waistcoats and trousers became wrinkled and slightly unkempt, and his face showed the strain of being trapped between the demanding monarch and his dangerous daughter.

For everyone on the ship, the first sighting of land, of Wikuna, was an event of titanic relief. For the sailors and Marines, it was a material reminder that they would only have their unusual passengers aboard for ten more days, the time it would take to skirt the coast and reach the capital city of Wikuna. For Jervis, it seemed even more of a relief, a stark assurance that his difficult position would not last much longer. Even the Princess seemed releived and enthusiastic about seeing her homeland, but the dreadful look of malicious eagerness on her face frightened those who glimpsed it as the crew and passengers assembled on deck to marvel at the forested coastline of southern Wikuna.

With the sighting of land, the convoy turned north, carried along by stiff southerly winds blowing before one of the mighty hurricanes that were common in the Sea of Storms during the summer. That black mass hung behind them like the shroud of Death, threatening the ships with destruction should they not flee before its might. To the relief of most on the ship, the hurricane turned inland, to swamp the land, rather than continue north and threaten their convoy. Some of the sailors were on hand to overhear the Princess talk about it with her strange human companion, as they stood at the stern and looked back at the leading edge of the storm. They both wore heavy, waterproof cloaks to protect them from the occasional squall lines that raked over the formation of ships.

"How did they know it was there?" he asked her curiously. "And why give it a special name?"

"Think of a hurricane as a gigantic storm," she replied calmly. "Sometimes they can get to be the size of a large island. Their winds can rip trees out of the ground." She pulled her satchel up under her cloak as the rain hit again. "The priests on board know magic that predicts the weather, as well as locates storms and threats to a ship on the sea. That way, Wikuni ships can navigate around dangerous areas."

"So those winds are why we've pulled up half our sails, but we're going faster than we were two days ago."

Keritanima nodded. "If the captain were to put on full sail, it would tear the masts out of the deck."

"I guess the priests know where it's going, so it's safe for us to go on."

She nodded again. "The magic of weather forecasting is pretty demanding for a priest, but it's gotten to be very accurate."

"How long did it take your people to learn about sailing?"

"We've always been sailors," she replied, looking down into the water. "Since the beginning of our history. I guess it's in our blood. We've arranged our entire society and our priest magic to center around sailing and trade."