Pherris glared at Dalan, expecting some subtle mockery. Instead, he saw the man look at him with an expression of genuine sympathy. The rare gesture of support shocked Pherris. “Thank you, Master d’Cannith,” he said. “Fathers should not outlive their sons.”
“Since the day I first set sail as owner of Karia Naille,” Dalan went on, “I knew that the only reason you remained captain was because you believed you might find him one day.” Dalan smirked. “Call me selfish, but in a strange way I have always been grateful to Haimel for giving you a reason to stay on. No other captain could have taken us this far. I only hope now that you’ve found what you seek that you stay on for a while.”
“It’s been my life’s privilege, Master d’Cannith,” Pherris said. “If we get through this alive, I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be than on Karia Naille.”
“Marvelous,” Dalan said.
Pherris’s moustache twitched. He gave Dalan a shrewd look. “Though if I’m as good as you say, perhaps we could renegotiate my salary.”
Dalan’s eyes widened. “That is … something better left discussed at a later time.”
Pherris cackled softly. Actually seeing Dalan d’Cannith caught flat-footed was nearly payment enough. That was a rare treasure he’d keep as long as his memory lasted.
A sudden shift in the storm brought Pherris’s attention back to the matter at hand. He looked back down at the Seventh Moon, still hovering high above Fort Ash. A shockwave of white energy had erupted from the vessel. Pherris looked toward Aeven. The dryad had slid from her position next to her figurehead and curled on the deck.
“It’s starting,” she moaned. “The world is dying again.”
“Captain Gerriman!” Dalan exclaimed.
“I know, I know!” the gnome said, working the ship’s controls frantically. “Everyone hold on! Gerith, take care of Aeven!”
The halfling scrambled to the trembling dryad’s side. A wave of cold washed over the Karia Naille. The storm faltered.
“What’s going on?” Ijaac shouted, frantic. The dwarf still resolutely refused to look over the side.
Pherris steered the Karia Naille about and took her higher and deeper into the storm. Beneath them, the pulsating sphere of energy washed over Fort Ash and the Harrowcrowns. Pherris knew that the Legacy couldn’t harm the ship but was unsure if Tristam had finished the modifications that would protect Aeven from its power. He couldn’t take the risk.
“What about Omax?” Gerith said. “He’s still down in that!”
Pherris said nothing. He hated leaving the warforged behind as much as Gerith did, but there was nothing else he could do. He just had to hope that Tristam had found a way to protect them.
Then again, if Tristam had succeeded, the Legacy would never have been activated. Pherris tried not to think about that. He couldn’t let himself believe that this was it, that this was the time that Tristam and the others wouldn’t return. If he made that compromise he wouldn’t be able to help when they did need him. He wouldn’t give up on them until he knew they were dead.
Pherris risked a glance down at the Seventh Moon. The flaming red circle had not moved. The storm had dispersed. Everything below was peculiarly still. In the bow, Aeven had recovered somewhat and sat up beside Gerith.
“It has passed, for now,” she said, her voice a dry whisper.
“Damn it, Tristam, what’s going on down there?” Pherris said.
The Seventh Moon began to move, patrolling slowly over the Harrowcrowns. Lightning lanced from its bow, tearing into the forest periodically.
“Marth is looking for something,” Dalan said. “He’s trying to flush Tristam out. No doubt his soldiers are searching the woods on foot as well.”
“Want me to fly down and see what’s going on?” Gerith asked.
“Absolutely not,” Pherris said. “There’s no more cloud cover, nowhere for you to hide if the Moon spots you.”
“Good,” Gerith said. The halfling jumped over the side. His glidewing caught him in midair. They circled gracefully downward.
Instants later, the Moon began directing her blasts in midair. The ship started off at greater speed, lightning firing erratically.
“Fool halfling,” Pherris growled. “What are you doing?”
He realized Gerith was trying to lead Marth away. A split second later, a plume of magical fire below them marked Tristam’s signal. Pherris pushed the controls hard, turning the airship into a swift and powerful descent. Ijaac groaned miserably and climbed down into the hold. Dalan, sensing the rough ride ahead, disappeared into his cabin.
Pherris knew Marth would see Karia Naille as soon as she descended from the clouds; he was gambling that the Moon’s elemental was as stubborn and difficult as Aeven believed. As the ship circled lower, he saw four figures running along the road, waving frantically. The Moon had finally caught sight of them and was slowly turning about to pursue. Pherris swooped down over the road as close as he dared. The ship’s keel strut almost scraped the earth. Tree limbs lashed the ship’s deck. Karia Naille left a trail of smoking trees and singed grass in her wake as she pulled to a halt in front of Tristam and the others.
Ijaac threw open the bay door and hurled out the ladder. Pherris heard the bay doors close just as the Moon came into range. He flew her just over the road, skimming the forest for cover. Lightning streaked past them, blazing between the ship’s hull and the lower half of her elemental ring. Before the Seventh Moon could fire a second time, Karia Naille had gained speed and altitude, placing her well out of range. Rather than pursue them, the Moon turned and gained speed as well. The silver warship soared away through the sky to the west.
“Marth is leaving,” Pherris said, watching the ship soar away.
“He’s headed for Sharn,” Tristam said, climbing onto the deck. Seren, Shaimin, Omax, and Ijaac followed. Dalan emerged from his cabin. Gunther poked his head out and sniffed the air tentatively, then vanished back inside to his warm dog bed.
“What do we do?” Ijaac asked. “As slow as she is, her lightning will still rake us out of the sky if we try to give chase.”
“We don’t have to give chase,” Pherris said. “We can beat him to Sharn easily at the speed he’s flying.”
“We could muster aid when we arrive,” Dalan said. “I have a number of contacts on the City Council. He’ll arrive to find half the Brelish military waiting for him. They’ll blow the Moon out of the sky before he even has time to activate the Legacy.”
“What would you tell them, Dalan?” Tristam asked. “How would you get anyone to move quickly enough to help us without telling them what the Legacy is?”
“The time for secrecy is past, Tristam,” Dalan snapped. “Two hundred thousand lives hang in the balance, and countless more if this foolish act of terrorism ignites a new war. What does it matter if the Legacy’s secret is exposed, as long as we destroy it?”
“Because a weapon like that could do even more damage than Marth is planning and we both know it,” Tristam said.
Dalan bowed his head, conceding the point.
“There has to be a better way,” Tristam said. “We just need time to think of it.”
“What can we throw against an airship that can destroy all magic?” Ijaac asked.
“Another Legacy,” Pherris said.
Tristam frowned thoughtfully.
“Maybe Norra has found something,” Seren offered.
“Maybe,” Tristam said, though he was unconvinced. He looked down at Fort Ash. “Maybe there are more answers down there. Those undead were protecting something.”
“Marth said the caverns beneath Fort Ash contained the Prophecy,” Shaimin said.