"Our search continues to go poorly," he said to the dwarf. "The Chosen One's wizards will not be pleased."

"I know," Geldon answered, equally dejected. "We are now just a bit more than two days from the coast. The farther west we sail, the less likely we are to find the prince. But orders are orders."

Saying nothing more, he turned back to the sea and again cast his eyes out over the waves. Traax, too, remained silent, lost in his own maze of concerns.

The silence was broken by the return of the last of the night's Minion search squadrons, coming to land on the deck.

At first glance these warriors seemed even more exhausted than the previous group had been. But then Geldon could see that they were talking animatedly among themselves; they looked almost happy, in fact.

The officer in charge hurried up to Geldon and Traax and bowed, clicking his heels. His name was K'jarr, and he was one of the finest long-distance fliers in the Minion force. Geldon found himself holding his breath in anticipation.

"Speak," Traax ordered quickly. "Do you have word of the prince?"

"Regrettably no, sir," K'jarr answered. "But we have discovered something else that might be of use to us in our search."

"And that is?"

K'jarr smiled. "We found a small patch of fog. It is less than a two-hour flight, south-southwest from the fleet's current position."

At first Traax seemed annoyed by what he viewed to be an inconsequential find. "And this is important because…" he said, exercising his considerable authority as he allowed his words to trail off.

"Its nature is highly unusual," the officer answered. "It does not ebb and flow with the winds, as one would expect. Instead it just stays in one place constantly, somehow always retaining its shape. Then, after about an hour of high surveillance, we began to observe the ships."

Geldon's eyes lit up. "What ships?" he asked eagerly.

"A great many vessels came and went from within the depths of the fog," K'jarr replied. "It is difficult to say for sure, but to me they looked like fighting ships. It seemed they were preparing for something. We continued to circle high above, using the clouds for cover. I doubt that we were observed. Instead of soaring down to investigate further, I thought it best to bring the squad directly back, so as to give you my report as soon as possible."

After nodding his approval to the officer, Traax turned questioning eyes toward Geldon. "Does any of this mean anything to you?" he asked urgently.

"No," the dwarf answered. "But if ships are coming and going from the midst of this unlikely haze, there must surely be more to it than meets the eye. If it truly does not move, then it is probably some manifestation of the craft. Magic is afoot."

"Exactly," Traax answered with a menacing grin. It was the first time Geldon had seen him smile since Tristan disappeared. "Do you think your wizards would mind very much if we made a small detour?" he asked conspiratorially.

Geldon thought for a moment. "I'm not sure," he answered. "But we're about to, anyway." He looked back at the officer who had just given them the mysterious news.

"Give the heading to the helmsman, and tell him to make the appropriate course change," he ordered. "We are going to investigate this immovable fog bank of yours. How long do you think it will take the fleet to reach it?"

"If the winds hold, we should be there by dawn," K'jarr answered. "Perhaps sooner."

"Very well," Geldon said. "Go now."

The officer bowed to both of them and clicked his heels together, then left.

"Tomorrow should prove to be a most interesting day," Traax said quietly.

Taking a deep breath, Geldon looked back into the Minion's intelligent, hazel eyes. "And so it shall," he agreed.

Neither of them fully realized just how meaningful Traax's observation was about to become.

CHAPTER

Forty-eight

S erena was worried. Wulfgar had changed.

Not so much that she did not continue to love him, and not in any way that made her fear for her safety. If anything, he seemed to love her even more. But he was more commanding, more sure of himself, more discerning in his thoughts and actions than she had ever seen.

Plus, he seemed to have an even greater desire to be free of the confines of his quarters. He would often stand and stare at the restless sea for hours, saying nothing. And then, without a second's warning, he would begin pacing the rooms like a caged, predatory animal, eager to be released on an unsuspecting world. More than once she had asked him what was preoccupying him so, but somehow he never answered her, distracting her instead with a kiss or by bringing up a different subject.

Since she had come to Wulfgar's quarters to live, he had been taken away by the demonslavers twice, and it was only since then that she had begun to notice the changes in him. She was sure his visits outside of these rooms were the cause of his strange metamorphosis, but she was at a loss as to why and how.

As he continued to pace back and forth before the azure window that Krassus had created, Serena realized that it was as if Wulfgar had been suddenly, involuntarily thrust into something far larger than himself and was being inexorably carried away upon the swelling rise of its tide.

"What is it, my love?" she asked gently. "What troubles you so?"

He stopped for a moment and turned to her, a short smile on his lips. Reaching down, he gently stroked one of her cheeks with the back of his hand. She took his hand into her own and pressed it closer, never wanting to let it go. Lifting her face, she looked into his eyes.

Wulfgar's eyes had always been beautiful. Hazel, compassionate, and strong, they had been one of the first things that had attracted her to him. But since his two mysterious visits to the outside they seemed literally to shine, as if they had been shot full of energy that was waiting to be released. They were mesmerizing, and she quickly found herself lost within their polished depths.

"There is nothing wrong, my darling," he answered softly. "Everything is finally starting to become as it should be. As it was foretold it would be. Only during my last few sessions with Krassus have I finally come to understand. There is much to tell."

"What do you mean?" she asked, still pressing his hand to her cheek.

Sitting down beside her, he looked lovingly into her eyes. "You are to become my queen," he said simply.

His words passed though her heart like a sudden storm. Stunned, she searched his face. "But you are not a king," she answered gently, not wanting to hurt him. She was surely honored by his words, and wanted to be with him forever. But a queen…

"I don't understand," she said, finally letting go of his hand. As she did, she found that her own hands were now trembling.

"I know," he answered. "At first neither did I. But Krassus has begun to show me the way. I no longer fear him, or his demonslavers. In fact, I now embrace them. Just as you soon will."

Realizing that she was curious, he turned his right wrist over and narrowed his eyes. As he did, a small puncture formed in his skin. Stunned and frightened, Serena instinctively pulled back. But Wulfgar only smiled, tacitly telling her that it was going to be all right.

He then turned his wrist over again, and a single drop of his blood fell to the silk bedsheets. As she watched, Serena's eyes went wide.

The blood twisted its way into a small pattern with curved lines on the top, and straight, angular lines on the bottom. It also had many smaller lines leading away from it, like branches shooting off from the trunk of a tree. It seemed to stir something within her-something long hidden, and immensely powerful. She looked back up at him, a thousand unanswered questions on her face. Wulfgar pointed down at the bloody signature.