The Greimasg'ah was silent for too long, and Avranvard began to wonder whether he was still listening. His voice came again, far colder than before.

You will not speak of him with disrespect. Unless the unexpected occurs, report in four days.

Avranvard waited, reluctant to answer after this rebuke. Her silence drew out until she knew he was gone.

She had angered him, and it was the last thing she wanted. A Greimasg'ah's discontent would not sit well when it came time to present herself to Most Aged Father. She stood up, taking a deep breath.

Most Aged Father had given his word. If she succeeded, she would be an initiate, and this eased her worry. After all, she had been given a purpose for the Anmaglahk. She reported directly to a Greimasg'ah, one of their greatest. As far as she knew, no initiate had ever done this before.

Avranvard hurried out before the hkomas missed her. As she emerged below the forecastle, half the sun peeked above the eastern horizon, dusting the ocean with sparks of light. When she stepped farther out and glanced upward, Sgailsheilleache stood gazing down at her with unblinking eyes.

For an instant, Avranvard could not take her eyes from his. Then she scurried off toward the stern, where her hkomas waited beside the helm. But Avranvard could not shake the sight of Sgailsheilleache's steady gaze.

Twelve more days past their southward turn, Magiere paced the deck, wearing her new coat and avoiding the rail-walls.

She should've felt grateful to be traveling by sea instead of land. But surrounded by this living ship, her thoughts wandered too often to the dead marks her hands had left upon an elven birch tree. Awareness made the vibration inside her sharpen to a shudder. She laced her fingers together, smoothing the lambskin gloves over her hands.

The season had passed into late winter, but at sea and just beyond the shore of the Elven Territories, it seemed colder.

Wynn sat on the deck talking softly to Chap-something they did more often these days. Leesil and Osha were still below, though Leesil was much improved. He ate almost normally, and as Sgaile had suggested, he was acquiring his 'sea legs'. Not that Leesil didn't still grumble and whine now and then.

Yes, Magiere should've been grateful. The Blade Range separating Belaski and Droevinka from the continent's eastern coast was impassable. She would've had to trek all the way down through Droevinka amid its civil war, then crossed the Everfen's vast swamplands into the Pock Peaks to reach the eastern coast. The journey would've taken another season, more likely two.

And yet Magiere was helpless to speed up their current pace.

She had suffered two more dreams of the six-towered castle on its snow-blanketed plain, and being blown through the night sky. With each dream, the pull south grew stronger. The only thing missing from those recent night journeys was the black-scaled coils circling about her.

The hkomas called for a stop at each harbor settlement, and Sgaile kept recounting the importance of this vessel. Dockhands unloaded supplies onto large skiffs, which were transferred onto inland-bound barges. The stops always took a day or more.

Several times, Magiere asked to go ashore. Any short reprieve away from the ship would've been welcome, though it meant walking on elven land again. Sgaile refused each time, claiming their presence would cause discord in any an'Croan settlement. Magiere knew he was right, but it didn't help.

She forgot herself in frustration and almost grabbed the rail-wall. Even with gloves on, she panicked and jerked her hand back at the last instant. The unnerving sensation she felt aboard this strange living vessel was less severe than what she'd suffered inside the elven tree dwellings. But this time she knew what her touch could do. The last thing Magiere wanted was to inadvertently draw life from the ship or injure it in any way.

At times, Magiere had to bite down to keep from shouting at the hkomas to sail more quickly.

"Yes, it is," Wynn said loudly. "Why do you always argue with me? I can clearly see mats starting on your haunches."

Magiere turned her troubled gaze on Chap and Wynn. The sage fished a brush from her pack, but Chap rumbled, swinging his rear out of reach.

"There is plenty of rope about to tie you up," Wynn warned, "like any other dog."

Chap wheeled and made a run for it.

"Get back here!"

Wynn snatched hold of his tail as her brush clattered upon the deck. With a yelp more indignant than pained, Chap swung his head over his shoulder and bared his teeth.

"As if you would dare," Wynn growled back.

With a lick of his nose, Chap dug in with all fours and lunged away.

"No… wait!" Wynn squealed.

She flopped forward on her belly, refusing to let go, and Chap's paws scrabbled on the deck as he gained momentum. Wynn's eyes popped wide as she slid along behind him.

Magiere sighed, starting after them. "Stop it-both of you!"

Then Chap rounded the back side of the cargo hold's grate.

Wynn flipped onto her back, still hanging on. Her little body whipped around the corner behind the dog and then rolled, swinging sideways toward the stern. Chap's paws scrabbled wildly as her weight suddenly threw him off balance. He flattened hard on his belly with a grunt, his legs splayed in all directions.

Both sage and dog spun across the deck. With a last yelp from Chap, they tumbled askew toward the aftcastle's wall. Magiere panicked as the two collided into a stack of coiled rigging rope and spare sailcloth.

Wynn sat up quickly, thrashing about as she tried to untangle herself. Chap rose on three legs, attempting to shake the fourth free of a knotted loop of rope.

"You two…," Magiere called out. "Stop acting like a couple of-"

"He started it!" Wynn yelled.

Chap shot a yip and snarl straight into her round face.

"Yes, you did!" Wynn growled back through clenched teeth. "And I have not brushed you since we left, you… you pig!"

She grabbed Chap's tangled leg and began jerking on the knotted rope to get him free.

An elven crewman leaned over the aftcastle above them.

Magiere caught sight of him just as he vaulted the rail-wall. His booted feet hit the main deck as he dropped directly in front of Wynn. The sage stiffened with a sharp inhale. Before she could move, the man snatched her by one wrist.

His amber eyes filled with anger as he jerked her up, until she almost stood on her toes. He hissed one quick string of Elvish at her. The only word Magiere caught was "majay-hi."

Chap twisted around and snapped at the man's shin, but the rope cinched tight around his leg and pulled him up short.

Magiere vaulted the hold's grate, shouting, "Get off of her!"

The tall crewman's hard and lined face turned toward her as she swung.

The back of Magiere's right knuckles caught his face, and she bored her left fist into his gut. He buckled, and one foot slipped from the deck as he careened back into the ship's rail-wall.

His grip on Wynn tore loose but jerked her against Magiere's shoulder. Magiere tucked her arm around the sage to catch her. Sunlight intensified all around Magiere.

The world turned searingly bright. Her eyes began to tear as her irises expanded to full black.

"Magiere!"

Sgaile appeared beside her with Osha right behind, holding off the angry sailor. The hkomas slid down the handrails from the aftcastle.

"He grabbed Wynn!" Magiere snarled and pointed at the sailor, trying to gain control before her dhampir nature spilled out.

"I saw," Sgaile answered quickly, "but you must stop this!"

The sailor struggled up, flailing off Osha's grip with bitter words. He shook his head, blinking rapidly. Blood trickled from the split skin over his cheekbone.