Aurian knew she must act swiftly. Rising to her feet, she made a scrambling dash for the foremast, clinging to it for dear life as the deck pitched and lurched beneath her. Biting her lip, she tried to focus on rinf’Straining sail, but it was impossible to concentrate on her magic and keep her hold on the mast. She looked round for Anvar. “Anchor me,” she yelled above the shrieking storm. “Hold me!” In a moment he was at her side, putting one arm around the mast and bracing himself against the tilting deck while holding her firmly round the waist with the other arm.
“Now!” Aurian lifted her hands—and with a sound like a I thunderclap, the sail split up the middle, ripping apart from top to bottom. Immediately the ship began to straighten as the canvas wound itself round the mast in a tangle of ropes. The captain stood gaping for a moment, then began to order the crew to cut away the wreckage and reef the foresail. Even with a single slip of canvas on the foremast, the ship ran hideously fast before the storm.
Anvar put his mouth close to Aurian’s ear. “It’s bad,” he shouted. “We’d better get Sara.” Holding firmly to each other and whatever else happened to come to hand, they staggered and crawled across the wave-swept deck, in constant danger ot being swept away by solid sheets of water that threatened to swamp the ship. It seemed a lifetime before they reached the sanctuary of the cabin.
The door was blocked by a tangle of flotsam, washed across the deck by the invading sea. Aurian cursed and raised her hand again. “Protect your eyes!” she yelled at Anvar. Shards and splinters flew as she blasted the mass away. Anvar wrenched the door open and they cushed inside, a swirling flood of icy water at their heels.
Sara screamed and scrambled onto the bunk as the waters rushed across the cabin floor. Anvar, fighting the force of the water, struggled to close the door without success, until Aurian also put her shoulder to it. Between them they forced it shut, preventing any more of the ocean from entering. Aurian, gasping for breath, looked ruefully down at the dirty water that lapped around her boots. “Well,” she said, “at least the floor’s had its first good wash in ages.” She ducked across the room for her staff, and thrust it securely into her belt. “Let’s go,” she said tersely. “We can’t be caught in here if the ship goes down.” “Lady, surely this must blow itself out?” There was a tacit plea in Anvar’s voice.
Anrian shook her head. “No, Anvar. This storm is Eliseth’s doing, and it won’t end until she runs out of strength, which won’t be for some time—or until the ship is sunk. Miathan wants us dead.”
Sara gave a frightened little cry. “We’ll be killed!” she wailed, and burst into tears.
Anvar looked at the Mage, gray-faced. “Lady, I can’t swim,” he said.
Aurian stared at him, bracing herself against the heaving floor. “What do you mean, you can’t swim?” she said.
“I can’t. Sara can—she had to, living beside the river—but my father always kept me too busy to learn.”
Aurian smacked a palm against her forehead. “As if we hadn’t problems enough!” she said. “Stay by me—I’ll try to help you. But to be honest, Anvar, you’ll only be out of this mess a few minutes quicker than the rest of us. Nobody could survive a sea like this.” She felt bitter, and wretched, and utterly defeated.
A volley of thunder overhead made them jump, and a vivid flare of lightning brightened the window. There was a rending crack overhead, followed by a crash that shook the entire ship. The lamp went out, plunging them into darkness. Aurian was thrown abruptly forward, falling with Anvar and Sara in a tangle of bruised limbs. She scrambled to her feet, clinging to the bunk to keep her footing, and formed a ball of Magelight. The floor was canted at a steep angle, toward the bow. Aurian swore. Anvar was still hampered by Sara, and the Mage pulled her away to let him rise. “Hurry,” she yelled. “We’ve got to get out!”
When they reached the deck, utter chaos met their eyes. The mainmast had been struck by lightning. Catching fire, it had snapped halfway down, falling into the rigging of the foremast, which had collapsed in turn, bringing with it a splintered area of the deck, and smashing the bow on the starboard side. It protruded across the water, unbalancing the ship and causing her to swing broadside to the battering waves that were already beginning to break her up. The sea was flooding in across the shattered bow, pulling the ship further under. The captain was still clinging desperately to the wheel—a futile gesture, since the rudder was out of the water.
The ship was going-’under. As they stood, paralyzed by the sight before them, she began to turn over. The deck was slanting too steeply—they were falling! Aurian felt Anvar grab her shoulder then lose his grip as she plummeted into the icy sea, felt the current trying to draw her down with the foundered ship. The water closed over her head in a froth of bubbles, and she struck out desperately, trying to get clear of the danger. But the current was too strong. She held her breath as she was sucked beneath the waves—then Miathan was back. She felt the grasp of his will, like icy claws sinking deep into her mind.
It was too much. When she was so close to drowning, when she needed all her resources to survive, he was there again! Aurian felt rage building within her like a crimson tide. She remembered Finbarr’s brave stand, remembered Forral, brutally slain by the Archmage’s vile creatures. Miathan had even deprived him of a decent warrior’s death. Unthinking in her blind fury, she opened her mouth to curse him aloud. Salt water seared her throat, flooded burning into her lungs. Well, she’d do her best to take him with her. With a wrench she broke from his grasp, ripping her consciousness free of her body and arrowing her will back, back to Nexis. He was there, hunched like a spider over his crystal. Aurian entered the crystal, and gathering all the force of her Fire-magic, she launched a bolt of energy—straight at his eyes. Miathan shrieked—a horrible, tearing sound, and clasped his hands over his face. Smoke leaked between his fingers as he reeled away, blinded.
Not enough. Damn this weakness. As her dying body pulled her back, Aurian tasted bitter failure. He still lived, she knew. There was only one comfort to cling to with the last shreds of consciousness as she was sucked back into the agony of her body. She had blinded him—destroyed his eyes irrevocably. That’s for Forral, you bastard, she thought. Then the darkness took her.
18
Leviathan
She was swimming. What the blazes was going on? This couldn’t be death—not another dark, freezing ocean! Some inner sense of time told Aurian that only a few seconds had passed since she’d lost consciousness—in fact, it was little longer than that since she had fallen into the sea. Then, to her utter astonishment, she realized that she was breathing easily. Breathing underwater! Aurian laughed aloud, the sound muffled and distorted as her lungs forced water through her mouth. So the legends were true, that you couldn’t drown a Mage! Her body must have made the change instinctively, adapting her lungs to deal with the new medium. I’ll wager Miathan doesn’t know about this, she thought triumphantly. He’ll think I’m dead, and I’ve given him too much to worry about, for him to suspect otherwise. Gods, I hope he’s in agony!
Then the Mage remembered Anvar and Sara. Their lungs would not adapt. They would be drowning! Heading back to the mass of floating wreckage from the stricken ship, she dived, trying to ignore the insidious thought that it would probably be useless. But she had promised Vannor that she would take care of Sara, and it was she herself who had brought Anvar to this fate. She had to try. But Aurian^bund it impossible to see anything beneath the dark waves. Even her Mage’s night vision could not cope with that. She wished she could be like the whales, with their extra sense that enabled them to recognize shapes in the blackest depths . . . Of course! Beneath the water, she sang—a song that she had only learned today but seemed to have known all her life . . . Aurian sang, calling the Leviathans in her mind, to beg for their aid. And to her relief, they answered.