The Long Journey Home (The Legend of Vanx Malic Book 8) by M. R. Mathias Page A

thinking hard on the subject, or maybe had fallen asleep with his legs dangling over the wheel deck’s edge.
    Vanx imagined the wrong wave causing the Zythian to slip and take a tumble while he pondered Chelda’s question. Then, as the answer came to him, he decided that if a wave shook Master Ruuk from that ledge, he’d land like a cat or a feather. He was Zythian, after all. His reluctance to adventure stemmed from him knowing exactly how precious his life was. A lot of older Zythians thought that way.
    “I suppose it is invisible.” Vanx said. “I lost the map—the whole scroll tube, actually—somewhere in there when I was fighting for my life.”
    “And mine, brother,” Zeezle reminded. “You were fighting for my life, too.”
    “Yup.” Vanx shrugged again, not wanting to take credit for anything more than trying to survive. “Either way, I think if you hold the map or are near the one who does, then you can see the place. I kind of remember looking back when those fish were schooling all around us, and I think it had already disappeared.”
    Master Ruuk wasn’t sleeping, and Vanx saw a smile spread across his face.
    “Makes sense to me.” Chelda said, and went back to helping Ronzon make individual chests to store their shares of coppers in.
    Zeezle put his arm around Vanx’s shoulders.
The question is, what are you going to do with that amber gem in your pocket?
He spoke in the ethereal.
    I was hoping that something on the map or the island would give me at least a clue, but I have no idea
, Vanx answered.
    Smash with hammer
, Poops said, giving Vanx and Zeezle a curious look.
    Where?
They asked the dog in unison; only Vanx added,
When?
    Poops sauntered away and then sat in the shade against the wheelhouse and started liking his gonads voraciously.
    Maybe it is the seed to your Elmwood Heart Tree, like the emerald was to the tree back in Harthgar
, Zeezle said.
    Maybe so
. Vanx nodded. He had a good idea where he would plant it if that was what it was. But they still had weeks of sailing to get there.
    Sea Mage Castavonti looked at Vanx when he noticed the slight change of course the
Adventurer
took. It couldn’t have been more than a degree, and it spoke to Vanx of the sea mage’s skill at his profession. Vanx also noted the man didn’t speak of the change to anyone, even him. Which could only speak of two things: trust, respect, or both. Or maybe fear?
    They fished a few times over the next ten days and weathered a decent-sized storm that left Chelda seasick and a sizeable knot on Master Ruuk’s head. The man refused to let Chelda stick him with the Glaive of Gladiolus, and that was strange to Vanx. So, one day while they had the fishing line out, and the sky was balmy and blue, he asked him why.
    “Why suffer the bruised noggin?” Vanx spoke quietly when no one else seemed to be paying attention.
    “This is how we learn, Vanx,” the Zythian answered simply. “This pain will keep me from dropping my guard and snoozing on the deck of a ship for the rest of my life. If she just jabs me and heals it, I don’t learn a lesson.”
    “That makes absolutely no sense.” Vanx laughed. He started to elaborate, but the line on the flinger rod started clicking away from the wooden reel fiercely.
    Vanx got to it and didn’t even have to say a word to get the ship moving in his favor. The
Adventurer
changed course as he needed without him or Castavonti having to touch wheel or rope. The only thing more amazing than the way the boat was obedient to his whim was the way Castavonti went about letting the rest of them think
he
was controlling the thing.
    This was no small fish, Vanx found, and even with the ship working fully in his favor, it eventually pulled the line to its limit and then ripped the whole rod from his hand.
    Zeezle, however, had another idea. His dagger cut the line as he grabbed the rod, a good three feet away from the rail, over open water.
    He didn’t fall into the sea, though. He