The cessation of the ship’s sounds woke Mirya sometime after sunset. She’d had two days to learn the noises of the ship: the steady rushing of the hull through the water, the creaking of timbers and spars, the ruffling of the sails in the wind, the footsteps and voices of the crew. Now those sounds had changed or simply ended, rousing her from her sleep. She could still hear the crewmen as they moved about the ship, but something was very different. The pirate vessel no longer rocked with the swells, and the sound of the wind had died away. The cabin in which she and Selsha were locked canted noticeably from forward to aft, as if the ship were aground on some sandbank or shoal.
She sat up, peering at the gloomy cabin. A fresh tray of food and a new waterflask had been set on the floor near the cabin door. Moving carefully to avoid waking Selsha, Mirya swung her feet out of the cramped bunk and stood up. She could feel the ship rocking side to side and the deck under her quivered. We’re still moving, she realized. But that made no sense. The deck remained inclined as if the ship were climbing over a wave, but it never seemed to reach the top and began to sink downward again. And it had grown cold too, startlingly cold. Her breath steamed in the air, and she shivered. Fortunately the drawers beneath the bunk held several spare blankets; she took one to wrap around her shoulders and another to cover Selsha.
“Where are we?” she murmured to herself and went to the cabin’s single small porthole to look. It was a thick piece of poor glass, green and bubble-pocked, and dirty on the outside as well. Through it she could tell night from day and perhaps discern the vaguest impression of coastline outside, but now all she could make out was darkness with what seemed to be a surprisingly bright moon low on the horizon. If she hadn’t lost track of the time, it was the second night since they’d left Hulburg and perhaps the third or fourth night since the wizard in the brown robes and his gigantic servant had broken into her house and carried her and Selsha away.
“Why didn’t I go to the harmach right away?” she murmured, berating herself once again. As soon as she’d heard Lastannor plotting with the Cyricist and speaking of an attack on the city, she should have done exactly that. But she’d been badly shaken by the discovery that Hulburg’s Master Mage, a member of the Harmach’s Council itself, was dealing with vicious Moonsea pirates and violent Hulburgan gangs. She’d lingered too long, listening on as she tried to decide what to do with what she’d learned. Then, after she’d been discovered and had made her escape from the inn, she’d found the streets of the Tailings filled with Cinderfists, all too clearly searching for her. She’d decided to head home to change out of the dingy hand-me-down garb the Three Crowns servants wore, hoping that a change of clothing might throw the Cyricist’s servants off her scent. But after she’d picked her way back to her house, dodging down dark alleyways and creeping through empty buildings, she hadn’t dared to set out again until she was certain she could reach Griffonwatch without meeting any of her pursuers.
It had seemed wiser to wait for morning to venture into the streets again, when the streets would be full of honest folk going about their business … but Hulburg’s enemies hadn’t given her the few hours she’d hoped she had. “What a fool you’ve been, Mirya Erstenwold,” she told herself angrily. She’d discovered the seriousness of her error when that … creature of Lastannor’s had wrenched her door off the hinges and seized her in its huge, clammy hands. Then the wizard had fixed his eyes on hers and had whispered a sibilant spell, the last thing she remembered before waking with Selsha in this tiny cabin a day-or was it two days? — ago.
Lastannor means to silence me by sending me away from Hulburg, Mirya thought unhappily. Like as not, Selsha and I are to be sold into slavery in some distant land. She supposed she should be grateful that the mage of House Marstel hadn’t settled on a more immediate and permanent method for silencing her, but then again, there hadn’t been any reason to take Selsha too. That was the one thing for which she absolutely could not forgive herself in this entire fiasco; through her own foolishness she’d managed to endanger her daughter’s life as well as her own.
Selsha stirred in her sleep. She sat up and whimpered when she realized Mirya was no longer in the bed. “Mama?” she cried.
“Ssshh, I’m right here, my darling,” Mirya said. She sat down on the edge of the bed and put her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “I’m here.”
“I dreamed of the big gray man again,” Selsha said. “He was chasing me. I couldn’t get away from him.”
“I know, Selsha. He’s one I’ve seen in my dreams too.”
“The ship stopped moving.”
“I’m not so sure of that. I think we’re still moving, but in a different way. How, I can’t imagine.”
Selsha nodded. She could feel the deck’s gentle motion too. “Where do you think they’re taking us?” she asked.
“I’ve no idea.” That mystery puzzled Mirya sorely. If she was right in her reckoning of the time, they could be anyplace in the Moonsea. They might even be passing down the River Lis to the Sea of Fallen Stars. But the coldness and clarity of the air felt more like the mountains to her. Perhaps they’d sailed into some secret passage leading under the mountains to Vaasa, or had used some sort of magic to leave the familiar waters of the Moonsea.
“Do you think Geran will come find us?”
Mirya draped her blanket around Selsha’s shoulders, sharing its warmth. “Oh, darling, I know he will,” she said. “When Geran Hulmaster finds that we’re not in Hulburg, he’ll set out to find us, wherever we end up.” She meant it to comfort her daughter, but she realized that she was comforting herself as well. Geran would return to Hulburg sooner or later, and he’d discover their absence. Whatever it was that bound the two of them together-friendship, the memory of innocent love, perhaps the hope of what might come someday-she trusted in it. He’d follow to the four corners of the world if he believed she and Selsha were in danger.
Of course, that didn’t mean that she intended to wait for a rescue. She remembered a thing or two about sailing from long ago. Given a chance, she might be able to steal a boat and find her own way back to Hulburg. It would be difficult and dangerous, but surely taking her chances on the open sea would be better than going along with whatever her captors had planned for her. With that in mind, she began to search the cabin for anything that might be useful in an escape attempt. For the better part of an hour, she scoured the cabin and its sparse furnishings. Eventually she did find an old, well-worn copper coin stuck between the deckplanks. Finding little else that she could use, she turned her attention to using the coin’s slim edge to loosen the screws holding the door’s deadbolt in place. But the confident stride of approaching bootsteps interrupted her. Hurriedly she stood back up, slipped the coin under the mattress, and brushed off her hands.
The lock turned, and into the room stepped a man dressed in a long red coat with gold embroidery at the cuffs. He was a lean, fit, middle-aged man of average height, with a gray-streaked beard of black to frame his wide jaw, and a sword hanging at his belt. Mirya glimpsed a couple of big, poorly dressed sailors behind the man in the coat. “Well, now, I see you’re up and about,” he said. “How do you find your accommodations, Mistress Erstenwold?”
“I’ve little liking for cages, no matter how they’re furnished.” Mirya folded her arms and studied the fellow. She’d seen him before, she was sure of it, but it seemed like it might have been a long time ago. “Are you the captain?” she asked.
“Not much for chit chat, are you? No matter. I’m a direct fellow myself. I am the captain, as you’ve guessed. Kamoth Kastelmar’s my name, and you’re aboard my ship, Kraken Queen.”
Mirya’s eyes widened. “The Kamoth who once was wed to the harmach’s sister?”