‘I can offer you a draught that could alleviate their effect. Something that might put you in a deep, non-dream state.’
‘Could. Might. What am I, Phoenix, a rat for testing your potions on?’
‘I only make the reservations because we’re talking about you. An ordinary man would succumb to the draught. With you, there’s no telling, but it’s worth trying. It wouldn’t harm you whether it blocks the visions or not.’
‘Whatever I get isn’t dreams, so I can’t see how the depth of my sleep would make any difference. Besides, I don’t want them blocked.’
‘You don’t? After all you’ve done to be rid of them?’
‘Since they started changing in character they’ve become more interesting than vexing to me.’
‘And there speaks the man who loathes magic so much.’
‘Of course I’d rather be without them. But it seems there’s some kind of meaning in what I see.’
‘I thought you couldn’t understand the visions,’ said Phoenix.
‘I’m not saying I can, only that they’re trying to convey something. And they have an incredible vividness, as real as being awake.’
‘You know, there’s an old sorcerers’ adage that goes, “Who’s to know which is real, our waking lives or our so-called dreams?” The Craft has always believed that the realms of the unconscious communicate with us. So maybe these visions are telling you something.’
‘You make it sound as though I’m causing this to happen myself.’
‘Are you saying you aren’t worth listening to? That you’d turn a deaf ear to your innermost fears and hopes?’
‘None of it’s coming from me, Phoenix. This is from outside.’
‘Then I won’t try to persuade you about the draught. If you’re sure.’
‘I’m sure.’ Kutch and Serrah were walking well ahead, with Darrok in the lead, Pallidea at his side. ‘Right now,’ Caldason said, keeping his voice down, ‘I’m more concerned about the boy. Do you think he’ll be able to handle this voyage?’
‘Kutch’s young and inexperienced. He can be rash. But you of all people should know that he has heart and spirit. Above all, he has a natural affinity with the Craft. I think he’ll cope.’
‘It’s putting a lot on his shoulders.’
‘Weren’t you even younger when you had to face the world on your own account? Nevertheless I take your point, and to be on the safe side I’ve had glamoured detection devices installed on board. Kutch’s aware of this, and knows how to interpret them.’
‘What do these things detect, exactly?’
‘In essence they’re a crude form of the ability Kutch has naturally. They detect magical activity. That could prove useful in your search.’
They arrived at the crowded end of the quay at that point, ending any further questions Caldason might have. When he saw them, the packet’s skipper, Rad Cheross, hurried over.
‘How’s it going?’ Darrok asked him.
‘We’re not far short of being ready, which is a relief as I’d like to use this mist for cover while it lasts.’
‘When do we leave?’ Caldason said.
‘An hour, maybe two,’ Cheross reckoned.
‘Think we’ll have any problem slipping by Vance’s ships?’
‘It’s a big ocean. They can’t be everywhere. Fortunately the packet’s fast, should we run into trouble, and having a couple of decoys helps.’
‘How much do we have in the way of provisions?’ Serrah wondered.
‘Enough for a month. A bit more if we ration. But that’s it, unless you like fish. There’s nothing else in the parts we’re going to.’
‘I’d hope to be nowhere near as long as that,’ Caldason told them.
‘Suits me.’ Cheross glanced at the loading work. ‘Excuse me, will you? I want to keep on top of this.’ He turned away.
‘Well, it seems to be going to schedule,’ Darrok said. ‘Anything we’ve overlooked, anybody? Speak now or it’s too late.’
‘My only worry’s leaving Kinsel so soon after his rescue,’ Serrah admitted, ‘particularly given the state he’s in.’
‘He’ll be fine with us,’ Phoenix promised. ‘The care he’ll get will be just as good whether you’re here or not.’
‘We’ll all be keeping an eye on him,’ Pallidea added.
‘Put it out of your mind, Serrah,’ Darrok chipped in. ‘Concentrate on getting the job done and yourselves back here.’
‘Thanks, Zahgadiah. We will.’
‘Right, I’m going to see if I can hurry things up.’
‘Anything we can do?’
‘Just don’t go away.’ He tilted his disc and stretched a gloved hand. ‘Pallidea.’
His lover deftly climbed aboard. The saucer rocked gently, then shot off.
Sensing that Caldason and Serrah could use a moment alone, Phoenix took Kutch aside for a last-minute pep talk.
‘What’s the cut-off point for this trip, Reeth?’ Serrah said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘We’ve never discussed how long it’s going to go on for.’
‘You heard Cheross. There’s only enough food and water for a month.’
‘That’s too long to be away from this place and you know it. And I wouldn’t put it past you to make us eat fish and drink rainwater if you had to prolong it.’
‘Phoenix has narrowed things down to a specific number of islands, which should save some time.’
‘Yes, about fifty of them.’
‘A little more than that, actually.’
‘What worries me is that if you don’t find what you want you’ll just go on looking indefinitely.’
‘I won’t do that, Serrah. There is a cut-off, and we’ll both know it.’
‘I’m not trying to dampen your enthusiasm. You know that, don’t you? I just don’t want you to be too disappointed if this doesn’t work out.’
‘I’m used to disappointment.’
‘Not in all things, I hope.’ She smiled.
Darrok returned at speed, alone this time, and hovered in front of them. ‘Seems they’ll be finished in under an hour, so be ready. And let’s have no tearful farewells, shall we? I can’t stand ’em.’
Two hours later they were well underway, far enough out to make the island a black ribbon on the horizon, with grimy white seagulls the only relief from steel-grey ocean and sky. The mist was clearing.
At the stern rail, Caldason, Serrah and Kutch watched as the two decoy ships disappeared around the island’s east and west headlands.
‘I can’t believe we’re actually going at last,’ Kutch said.
‘I should think Reeth’s even more pleased,’ Serrah replied. ‘Aren’t you, love?’
‘It’s good to be on our way,’ Caldason agreed.
‘You could be a little more enthusiastic about it.’
He smiled, mildly. ‘I’m just tired.’
‘You do look bushed. Take a nap. There’s nothing you can do here.’
‘Maybe I will. You’ll call me if-’
‘What’s going to happen in the next couple of hours?’
‘Vance could happen. We’re not clear yet.’
‘If we get our throats cut I’ll be sure to wake you. Now get some sleep.’ She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
Caldason nodded, heavy-eyed, then turned and made for their cabin.
It was part of the crew’s modest quarters below decks, and tiny. Once inside, he didn’t even bother kicking off his boots, simply unbuckling his scabbard, laying it aside, then stretching out on the bunk.
The second his head touched the pillow, he flew.
Far below lay the ocean, drab and choppy. The packet ploughed through it with ballooning sails, looking as fragile as a child’s toy in the vast expanse. He travelled at a greater speed than any seagoing vessel, so that in an instant he passed the ship, then left it behind.
Drawn northward, on the same course as the packet, his velocity increased. He soared into piercing airstreams, yet was untouched by them, as though invisibly cocooned. And he was unaware of the sting of ice crystals when he sliced into low clouds.
He covered an enormous distance but glimpsed no other craft. At least, that’s how it seemed. His speed was such that something as minuscule as a ship was easily overlooked in that immense ocean. He was likewise oblivious to land masses. Although he thought he saw, just fleetingly, a canopy of dark shapes hugging the surface of the ocean. Some were the size of islets, others no more than specks, and there was a profusion of them. They could have been the island group the packet was bound for; they were gone so quickly it was impossible to tell.