When they had first arrived back at the ships, Tyranny had ordered a head count. It revealed that more than fifty of her total crew were still on shore. And she had immediately made it clear that she wouldn't hear of leaving them behind.

In a way Tristan agreed with her, but he also knew that if any of them were going to survive, they had to get going. Any crewmembers not back on board by the time they were ready to sail would simply have to turn pirate-if they hadn't decided to do so already-or otherwise take their chances on the island. Finally deciding enough was enough, he took Tyranny by the shoulders and forced her around to face him.

"And what about your brother, eh?" he asked sternly. "You still remember him, I assume! How much good do you think you can do him if you're dead? Isn't he the real reason you started all this in the first place?"

Letting go of her, he pointed to some slaves sitting on the deck. Sick, ragged, and coughing, many of them looked as though they wouldn't even survive the two days it would take to get home.

"And what about them?" he asked. "Your men still on shore may be left behind, but they knew the risks. If they don't get back in time, so be it. But these slaves you have shed blood to save rightfully deserve their own chance, don't you think? Or have you somehow forgotten about them, too?" His dark gaze didn't give her an inch.

"You trusted me once, and now I'm asking you to do so again," he said, somewhat more gently. Reaching into his boot, he withdrew the ancient slip of parchment and held it before her eyes. "I know this can't look like much to you, but I must get it home at all costs. There are things at stake here that you can't possibly imagine. Things of the craft of magic." Then his mood lightened a bit. "Besides," he added coyly, "wouldn't you like to live long enough to spend that one hundred thousand kisa I promised you?"

Her stance softened, and she looked to Scars for guidance. The colossus slowly nodded his head.

With that, Tyranny reluctantly agreed to Tristan's plan. They had labored hard all through the night, and the decks of The People's Revenge were now literally covered with souls from the other two ships. But her spars and sails looked to be in good repair again, and the morning wind was stiffening. Tyranny quietly came to stand next to Tristan at the gunwale. She looked as exhausted as he did.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"For what?"

"For convincing me of what needed to be done," she answered, tousling her hair with one hand. "Sometimes I can be a handful, I know. They don't call me Tyranny for nothing."

Tristan pursed his lips knowingly. "So I've seen," he said wryly. Smiling, he brushed an errant lock of her outrageous hair away from one of her wide, blue eyes.

"You still haven't told me why your blood is azure, or why it glows," she then said, surprising him. "How can that be? Who are you, really?"

Scowling, Tristan looked back out over the ocean. "Even my wizards cannot answer such things," he said softly, sadly. "All I know is that lately I have come to curse my azure blood, and a large part of me wishes that I no longer had it. I long to have normally endowed blood, like Wigg and Faegan. But right now that day seems far away, indeed."

Then he heard footsteps, and turned to see Scars approaching.

"All is finally ready for departure, Captain," the giant said shortly. "May I have your orders?"

Tyranny looked sadly out to where the two stripped, deserted ships lay. They had once sailed proudly beside her, swift and sure in their service. But now they looked for all the world like lost, tattered orphans, fearfully awaiting some unknown fate. Tyranny closed her eyes.

"Scuttle them," she said softly.

With a sad, resigned look, Scars raised one arm and gave the signal to the two crewmen still waiting aboard the other vessels. After signaling back they quickly disappeared belowdecks, only to come up a few moments later. Then they scrambled down into the small longboats that lay tied alongside, and hurried back to the flagship. Once they were aboard and the boats secured, Tyranny turned to Scars.

"Take us out," she ordered simply. The tone of her voice told Tristan that her normally commanding demeanor had returned. "Be quick about it. And be sure to give us a wide berth around the others," she added sternly. "I have no desire to be taken by the undertow as those two frigates go down." Glad to be finally leaving Sanctuary, Scars began barking out orders to make way.

Looking across the fog-covered ocean, she and Tristan watched as the other two vessels began to swallow seawater, their bows slowly nosing down into the waves. Soon the briny, encroaching ocean was crossing them amidships, and the frigates were standing at a sharp angle on their bows. Finally the waves closed in over their aft decks and they plunged toward oblivion. The swirling, dark blue water closed over them, leaving no trace.

Tristan turned to Tyranny. "I'm sorry," he said.

"I know," she replied quietly. They said nothing for a time as they watched the spinning whirlpools slow and finally vanish altogether.

Then he heard the flagship's sails snap open, and The People's Revenge started to move. Soon they would be out of the fog and on their way home. So anxious was he to see Eutracia again that he almost thought he could smell the rich, dark soil and the green, waving grasses of the Cavalon Delta. Looking up, he saw his blue-and-gold battle standard snapping back and forth in the wind, and it gladdened his heart.

It was then that he and Tyranny heard the arrogant, hateful voice come snarling across the deck.

"So tell me, lass," the pirate shouted out. "Is it that he's better'n me where it counts, or is it just the money you're after? Know'n ya as I do, it's probably both, isn't it, my little she-cat?"

Turning, Tristan and Tyranny looked over to where Rolf stood lashed to the mainmast, weaponless, hands bound securely behind him. His blond hair was matted, and an angry red welt swelled his chin where Tristan had hit him with the brain hook. His narrowed eyes gazed at Tyranny with an odd combination of hate and lust that Tristan found unsettling.

"You'll never make it home, you know," Rolf added nastily. "Sure'n it was a fine notion to make your ship whole again by robbing from the other two. And even I have to admit that she used to be uncommonly fast. But if I know my boys, they have already surrounded the island. Your new man here may have fooled them back at the tavern, but you'll never beat them out on the open sea, y'have my word on it. Ya should've stayed in the fog, lass, but y'couldn't keep that up forever, now could ya? Worse yet, you're now too heavy to slip by their two hundred ships, and y'know it." Then he cast his eyes lasciviously up and down her body.

"It seems you and I will get to enjoy our little reunion after all," he added wickedly.

He turned to look at Tristan. "And as for you, you clever bastard, I look forward to giving you a taste of my sword," he snarled. "We have unsettled business, you and I. I'm eager to know whether y'really are any good with that ridiculous-looking blade you carry. But time will soon tell, laddie, yes, it will. And time is the one thing ya don't have." Then he smiled. "That and another two hundred ships, of course."

Tristan wanted to untie him and take him on right then and there, but he reluctantly pulled himself back. Taking a deep breath, he looked Rolf in the eyes. "I welcome it," he said quietly.

Just then The People's Revenge broke out of the fog. As the stiff, easterly wind filled her sails, Tyranny ordered that the heavily loaded frigate turn west, toward the delta. But before her orders could be carried out, the crewman in the crow's nest started ringing the alarm bell for all he was worth. Looking up, she saw him pointing frantically out over the bow.