needle-like bowsprit. Sea-Water, rainbows in its spinning droplets, sprayed over the bow as the ship clove a wave in two. The clouds frothed overhead, slow and steady, greys and blues.
Farden frowned as the order was given to take in a little sail. It felt as if they were slowing. In fact, now that he thought about it, they hadn’t been going very fast for the last hour. ‘Heading inland?’ he asked.
Nuka nodded. ‘Avoiding the squall.’
‘What squall?’
‘That squall,’ Nuka flicked a finger at a patch of ugly cloud loitering in the southwest, a bruise of granite and indigo against the rest of the sky. It was nowhere near them, and Farden said as much.
Nuka smiled at him. ‘How many ships you sailed on, Farden?’
Farden thought about that. ‘Three, I think, and the last one sank.’
‘Then I’m guessing you wouldn’t want to make a repeat of the last time, eh?’
‘Not particularly.’
‘Then west nor’ west it is.’ Nuka slapped the wheel with a hand that resembled a side of ham. He turned to one of his officers, the first mate by the looks of him, a narrow fellow with a chin like a spade, and smiled. ‘As if a squall could sink this lady, though eh? Just slow us down a mite.’
The first mate shook his head and returned the smile.
Farden sipped his beer and found it sweet with a bitter, malty tang of an aftertaste. He washed his tongue around his mouth. ‘Won’t heading into the coast slow us down anyway?’
‘I’m aware of the shortness of time, good sir. The Arkmages have explained the situation to me at great length. This ship is faster than any that the Arka, or anyone else for that matter, have ever built. No doubt it took you three days’ sailing, last time you saw the Midgrir beaches, am I right?’
Farden nodded. That it had.
‘Well, it’s taken us barely two.’
‘But aren’t there rocks that we’ll have to avoid? Islands to go around?’
Captain Nuka threw him a warning look. ‘Farden, friend, don’t be mistaking my kindness and calmness for an invitation to keep rambling on and telling me how to sail my ship. I know you’re anxious. We all are. Elessi is a good friend of mine and Lerel’s too, so hold your tongue and be patient.’ Here Nuka left his wheel and came close to Farden. ‘Or, you can go belowdecks and sleep yourself into a better mood. It’ll be three days yet ‘til we make anchor in Hjaussfen,’ he said, one bushy eyebrow raised, awaiting a response. Farden said nothing. Instead he went back to the railing, taking his mug of beer with him. He sipped at it, shivering as the warmness slid down into his belly and reminded his skin how cold it was. ‘Patience,’ he whispered to the wind, as a gust of it slapped him in the face. Seaspray followed in its wake. Farden winced. Patience , he repeated the word in his head, clutching at it, pushing it deep into his mind and hoping it would stick.
‘Steady as she goes!’ Nuka bellowed over the sound of rattling pulleys and the thundering of a hundred shoes pounding up and down the long deck. The sails were being hauled down and rolled away. Sailors swung through the rigging, caring little for the fall or the choppy sea. The ship squirmed with activity.
And rightly so, for in their path an orange cliff stood boldly against the crashing waves, still a mile or two away yet, but tall enough to seem very, very close indeed. So close in fact, that for every two glances that the sailors gave their work, they gave a third to the cliff-face and its pounding, thundering roots.
The waters at the southern tip of Midgrir were a strange and vibrant green, a mixture of the sandstone seabed and the deep blue of the water that had drowned it. It made the danger a very colourful one, as if they were already stuck fast in the oily paints of some artistic rendering of a disaster to come.
Farden had put himself at the very back of the ship, where an enormous lantern hung out over the iron stern and its foaming wake. He
Farden frowned as the order was given to take in a little sail. It felt as if they were slowing. In fact, now that he thought about it, they hadn’t been going very fast for the last hour. ‘Heading inland?’ he asked.
Nuka nodded. ‘Avoiding the squall.’
‘What squall?’
‘That squall,’ Nuka flicked a finger at a patch of ugly cloud loitering in the southwest, a bruise of granite and indigo against the rest of the sky. It was nowhere near them, and Farden said as much.
Nuka smiled at him. ‘How many ships you sailed on, Farden?’
Farden thought about that. ‘Three, I think, and the last one sank.’
‘Then I’m guessing you wouldn’t want to make a repeat of the last time, eh?’
‘Not particularly.’
‘Then west nor’ west it is.’ Nuka slapped the wheel with a hand that resembled a side of ham. He turned to one of his officers, the first mate by the looks of him, a narrow fellow with a chin like a spade, and smiled. ‘As if a squall could sink this lady, though eh? Just slow us down a mite.’
The first mate shook his head and returned the smile.
Farden sipped his beer and found it sweet with a bitter, malty tang of an aftertaste. He washed his tongue around his mouth. ‘Won’t heading into the coast slow us down anyway?’
‘I’m aware of the shortness of time, good sir. The Arkmages have explained the situation to me at great length. This ship is faster than any that the Arka, or anyone else for that matter, have ever built. No doubt it took you three days’ sailing, last time you saw the Midgrir beaches, am I right?’
Farden nodded. That it had.
‘Well, it’s taken us barely two.’
‘But aren’t there rocks that we’ll have to avoid? Islands to go around?’
Captain Nuka threw him a warning look. ‘Farden, friend, don’t be mistaking my kindness and calmness for an invitation to keep rambling on and telling me how to sail my ship. I know you’re anxious. We all are. Elessi is a good friend of mine and Lerel’s too, so hold your tongue and be patient.’ Here Nuka left his wheel and came close to Farden. ‘Or, you can go belowdecks and sleep yourself into a better mood. It’ll be three days yet ‘til we make anchor in Hjaussfen,’ he said, one bushy eyebrow raised, awaiting a response. Farden said nothing. Instead he went back to the railing, taking his mug of beer with him. He sipped at it, shivering as the warmness slid down into his belly and reminded his skin how cold it was. ‘Patience,’ he whispered to the wind, as a gust of it slapped him in the face. Seaspray followed in its wake. Farden winced. Patience , he repeated the word in his head, clutching at it, pushing it deep into his mind and hoping it would stick.
‘Steady as she goes!’ Nuka bellowed over the sound of rattling pulleys and the thundering of a hundred shoes pounding up and down the long deck. The sails were being hauled down and rolled away. Sailors swung through the rigging, caring little for the fall or the choppy sea. The ship squirmed with activity.
And rightly so, for in their path an orange cliff stood boldly against the crashing waves, still a mile or two away yet, but tall enough to seem very, very close indeed. So close in fact, that for every two glances that the sailors gave their work, they gave a third to the cliff-face and its pounding, thundering roots.
The waters at the southern tip of Midgrir were a strange and vibrant green, a mixture of the sandstone seabed and the deep blue of the water that had drowned it. It made the danger a very colourful one, as if they were already stuck fast in the oily paints of some artistic rendering of a disaster to come.
Farden had put himself at the very back of the ship, where an enormous lantern hung out over the iron stern and its foaming wake. He
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