The bunk was shaking. It did that whenever the ship was rocking in just the right direction and frequency. It wasn’t helping Meleng sleep.

Not that it made it much harder either. It wasn’t like he slept well these days. Most nights, he had at least one nightmare, and he’d already had two tonight. He’d seen so much death recently—on Scovese, in Ninifin, and elsewhere. The Youth Guard falling one after another to Ses-Tlacotl’s spear. Fra-Mecatl lying face-down in the mud. Inhuan dying to save his life. The images never went away. They were with him every night, every time he closed his eyes.

Akna had been having similar dreams—worse even—and before they’d gone separate ways, they would comfort one another. He wondered how she was doing. He hoped she was all right.

He had talked to Jorvan about his dreams on several occasions, and Jorvan had always tried to be comforting. But Jorvan wasn’t experiencing the same thing, and couldn’t fully understand. He had no intention of confiding in Sinitïa about them, and he was glad he hadn’t woken up screaming in the last few days since she had joined them. He dreaded her seeing that from him.

He rolled onto his side and peered over the edge of the bunk. Jorvan and Sinitïa were both fast asleep. Jorvan’s wings twitched a couple times, spreading out for just a moment, almost touching Sinitïa’s bunk, coming only a few inches short of her face.

Sinitïa was on her side, her face smooshed into her pillow. A couple strands of her hair hung over her nose and mouth, and blew out each time she breathed out, then back as she breathed in again. She looked so peaceful, so innocent.

Even more than he dreaded her hearing him scream in his sleep, he dreaded her experiencing the death and violence herself. And it was inevitable. There were still Darkers trying to kill them. Felitïa’s role as Will-Breaker—whatever that entailed—was far from over, if it had even begun. There would be more conflict. More fights. More deaths. The chase through Beldrum two days ago was nothing compared to what likely lay in the future. He couldn’t imagine what it would do to Sinitïa. How it would affect her. Change her. She didn’t deserve to have to bear the weight of such violence.

On several occasions, Meleng had pondered delivering her back to the Palace. As poorly as she was treated there, at least she would be spared the death and violence ahead of her.

But no. She’d made her decision—probably not as informed a decision as would be ideal, but she’d made it, and he had agreed to her coming along. There was no changing that now. The betrayal might destroy her as much as what lay ahead if she came along. So that was it. Her course was set.

Thinking of courses, the Lustrous Rose was due to sail out today. The crew had finished de-icing yesterday, helped by sunny, slightly warmer weather. At least, so he’d been told. He, Sinitïa, and Jorvan had spent the day below deck. The only remaining problem was that the local forces were still watching the ship. According to Gen and Ting, there were soldiers all along the pier, but with more concentrated near the gangplanks onto the Lustrous Rose. There was also a trebuchet pointed in the ship’s direction, albeit unloaded at this time. However, Gen remained confident they would be able to leave without incident. As long as they did nothing to draw attention and behaved like any other ship in the harbour.

Meleng wasn’t sure how long that would be from now, though. He wasn’t even sure what time it was right now. It probably wasn’t dawn yet, but he couldn’t be sure. It was hard to tell time without ever going up on deck and having no windows—ports?—to look out.

He could get up to check, he supposed, but he didn’t want to disturb the others, especially Sinitïa. Let her have her peaceful sleep while she could.

He rolled onto his back and tried to sleep again. It didn’t work, so he stared at the ceiling awhile.

Word came maybe an hour or so later that they would be leaving in the next hour. Captain Gen requested to speak with them as soon as possible. Since they couldn’t go to the Captain’s cabin without going out on deck, Gen came to them.

“We’re going to be fine,” he said. “They haven’t denied us permission to leave, so we’re going ahead with our scheduled departure. A couple ships are already preparing for departure, so we shouldn’t draw any particular attention. That said, Jorvanultumn, please be ready to assist us should something go wrong and we need to make a run for it. If you could provide us with the wind to outrun any ship that comes after us, I’d very much appreciate it.”

Jorvan nodded. “I will do what I can.”

Gen clapped his hands. “Excellent. In that case, wait just below deck and be ready to come up at a moment’s notice. Let’s hope it’s not needed though.”

Meleng and Sinitïa waited with Jorvan. Crew darted back and forth between them, while Ting and other officers yelled orders. Eventually, there was a judder as the ship started to move.

Miana Ting appeared at the top of the ladder. “Jorvan, we need you. Just before we set sail, we received an order to stay. We’ve decided to run for it, but they’re already bringing grapples to stop us.”

Jorvan dashed up the ladder.

“What should we do?” Sinitïa asked.

“You two stay there,” Ting said.

“I might be able to help,” Meleng said.

Ting shook their head. “You’ll just be in the way. Let us handle this.”

“But I can do something about the grapples. Jorvan can give you wind; he can manipulate the water for you, but he can’t do anything about the grapples. I can.”

Ting regarded him for a moment. “We already have people ready to cut them.”

“The ropes are thick. It’ll take them too long. I can do it faster.”

“How?”

“Just let me show you.”

Ting stared at him a moment longer. The ship lurched and Sinitïa stumbled into him.

“Please let him,” Sinitïa said. “He’s really good with magic!”

Meleng wasn’t sure he’d rank himself as highly as Sinitïa, but he could handle this.

Finally, Ting nodded. “All right, but if you get in the way of the crew or do anything that causes us to lose speed, I’ll haul you back down here myself. Understood?”

“Understood.”

Ting stood aside and he ran up onto deck. Crew were rushing about while the officers bellowed orders. He wasn’t sure where Jorvan was and he resisted the urge to look. Instead, he turned his attention towards the dock.

The ship had only pulled a few yards away from the pier. Already, two heavy grapples were hooked over each rail, each attached to a thick rope soldiers on the pier had tied to the heavy posts. Two crew members were at each grapple, one trying to release the grapple itself while the other tried to saw through the rope. As he watched, a third grapple connected with the rail.

Meleng ran over to the new one first, since there was no crew already there—though a couple were approaching it when he got there. He waved at them. “It’s all right. I’ve got this. Stand back.”

He began to trace inscriptions onto the grapple, then stopped. No. The rope would be better. Less dangerous. No shrapnel. He traced the equations onto the rope.

The crew hadn’t listened though. One of them grabbed his arm and pulled him away before he could finish. “I don’t know what you think—”

“Let him finish!” came a barked cry from Ting. “Stand back as he asks!”

The crewman let him go, and Meleng rushed to finish the equation. He released the spell and jumped back as the rope frayed and burst apart. That section of the deck came free.

A fourth grapple connected and he ran to that next, reasoning that the crew might be most of the way through the first two by now. He traced the equations onto the rope and jumped aside again.

He looked back. The crewman cutting the rope of the first grapple made it through just then and that one came free.

Splashes came from the water. Meleng took a quick glance over the rail. Unarmoured soldiers were jumping into the water and swimming towards the ship. Not many, but he dreaded what might happen if they got aboard.

He rushed to the remaining grapple. “Please, move aside.”

The two crewmen did as he asked and he traced the equations onto the rope. It burst apart.

Freed of the grapples, the ship lurched forward. Meleng slipped and his head hit the deck. It took him a moment to regain his senses and when he did, there was a hand reaching down to him. It belonged to one of the crew. Meleng took it and let the man help him to his feet.

The crewman chuckled. “Need better footing, mate, but good work on the grapples.” He slapped Meleng on the back, then rushed off to respond to the orders the officers were barking.

Ting stood just a few feet away. As sailors rushed between them and Meleng, Ting said, “Good job. Now stay out of the way.”

Meleng nodded and looked for a spot that was out of the way. He wasn’t sure there was one.

He spotted Jorvan though.

The Isyar was flying above the masts, circling around the main mast. He rolled as he flew, his arms, legs, and wings moving as though in an elegant aerial dance. It was strain he shouldn’t be putting on his injured wing yet. If he kept doing this, he might permanently damage himself.

Wind was whipping up. It was blowing through Meleng’s hair and ruffling through his clothes. It was making it colder, but the sails were filling out and the Lustrous Rose’s speed was picking up.

A new yell came from somewhere farther down the deck. Others repeated it, passing it down along the deck to ensure all heard it.

“Trebuchet!”

The warning was yelled up the main mast to the crow’s nest, and presumably to Jorvan. Would Jorvan be able to hear way up there with the wind rushing around him?

Meleng turned and looked back towards the pier. The ship was pulling away from the soldiers in the water, but the trebuchet was another matter. Soldiers were loading it and turning it to point just ahead of the ship’s current position.

There was nothing Meleng could do about it. Not that he could think of, at any rate. It was too far away. He could strengthen the deck or hull, but not without knowing where it would hit. It would take far too long to strengthen everywhere.

He glanced up. Jorvan had changed his pattern. One arm now pointed straight to his side, moving in a separate pattern to the rest of his limbs.

By the trebuchet, water was lapping up over the edges of the pier. The soldiers there paid it no mind and continued their jobs. The trebuchet was almost ready.

A large wave leapt up and over the pier. The trebuchet rocked a little, but remained in place. The soldiers, however, couldn’t hold against it. The wave swept them off their feet, a couple of them sliding off the pier and into the water.

That would slow them down at least, Meleng thought, but by how much?

Another cry repeated down the length of the ship.

“Blockade!”

Meleng didn’t have a good view of what was ahead of them, and he was hesitant to move anywhere in case he got in the way. So he looked up to see what Jorvan was doing.

The Isyar no longer had one arm extended, and had returned to his original dance. As the blockade warning reached him, however, he turned and flew off over the bow and out of sight.

What was he doing? Surely he wasn’t going to attempt to attack one or more ships in the blockade by himself, was he?

Meleng looked about, at the sailors continuing their duties, at Ting standing midship and watching over what the crew was doing, back to the pier where the soldiers had recovered and finished readying the trebuchet.

It launched a massive rock at the ship. The rock flew high and then down through the rigging near the bow before crashing into the water on the other side.

Not as damaging as it could have been had it been a direct hit, but enough to cause problems. Crewmembers were already rushing to deal with it.

Meleng wished there was something more he could do. Or at the very least, he wished he could see more of what was going on.

What was Jorvan up to?

Midship, Ting had gone over to one of the large chests attached to the deck near the main mast. Most of them were open and the crew was pulling rope and other supplies from them, but this one was still closed. Taking out a key, Ting unlocked the chest and opened it. They pulled out a sword and passed it to a nearby crewmember. They then pulled two more out and moved aside. The armed crewmember began taking out more swords and passing them to other crew who rushed by.

Ting strapped one of their two swords to their belt, and walked over to Meleng. They held out the second sword to him.

Meleng stared at it. A cutlass if he knew his swords—which he didn’t really. “I…”

“Take it and go to your girlfriend. If we’re boarded, defend her with your life. They probably want her alive, but in the heat of battle, all kinds of things can happen.”

“I...I don’t know how…”

“I don’t give a shit.” Ting stared at him, eyes narrowing. “You can hold it. You can swing it. You got us into this by bringing her aboard, so do your part.”

Meleng took the sword and wrapped his fingers round the hilt. It was heavy to hold in one hand, but there wasn’t room for a second hand on the hilt.

Ting nodded. “Good. Now go to her.” They turned away and went back to directing the crew.

Meleng sighed and headed back below deck. He really wished Ting would stop calling Sinitïa his girlfriend. Why did people do that? Why couldn’t he and Sinitïa just be friends?

He navigated past sailors rushing about, doing his best not to get in anyone’s way, and reached the top of the ladder. There was no sign of Sinitïa.

Maybe she’d returned to their cabin.

Moving about below deck was easier than on deck, though there were still a few crewmembers who darted past him. It didn’t take long to reach the cabin.

Sinitïa wasn’t there.

Maybe she’d gone to paint the sheep again? It would be an odd choice at a time like this, but couldn’t think of anything else.

There was a terrible crashing noise. The ship lurched sideways. Meleng fell through the open door of the cabin, landing on Jorvan’s bunk. He barely avoided impaling himself on his sword.

They’d been hit by something.

The trebuchet?

It had to be.

Meleng rushed to the hold. There was no one there, only the sheep bleating and running about in their pen. Otherwise, very little in the hold looked disturbed. The cargo had been well secured in place.

So where was Sinitïa? She wouldn’t have gone up on deck, would she?

Gods, she might have.

He ran back up on deck, pushing past everyone he encountered. “Sinitïa!”

He paused only momentarily at the scene on deck. A giant funnel of water spun between two other ships—military ships maybe—to the starboard side of the Lustrous Rose. The two ships were each heeling heavily to opposite sides. The Lustrous Rose was turning towards port and gaining speed.

Meleng dashed about the deck, ducking under rigging and around crew, doing his best not to accidentally hit anything or anyone with the sword. Near the bow, on the starboard side, a portion of the deck was broken apart. There was now a gaping hole there.

“Sinitïa!” Gods, what if she had been there?

He hurried on. There she was! Thank the gods! She was standing near Captain Gen on the poop deck, clutching at a post as the ship rocked. Jeanne stood by her legs. She was staring starboard at the ongoing display. Meleng ran towards her. He stumbled and almost fell on a couple of occasions, but managed to stay on his feet.

He passed Miana Ting, who shook their head, but didn’t say anything.

“Sinitïa!”

“Meleng!” Sinitïa let go of the post with one hand and waved. As she ship rocked more, she grabbed the post again.

He ran up to her. “You were supposed to stay below deck.”

She frowned and looked away from him. “I wanted to see what was going on.”

“Already been through that with her, lad,” Gen said. “She’s a stubborn one, but she’s staying out of the way. Watch over her and stay out of the way yourself.”

Meleng stumbled up to Sinitïa, Jeanne barking at him as his legs brushed against the dog. He grabbed hold of the post with his free hand and tried to hold the sword up in some sort of defensive position. He doubted he was holding it right.

“Sorry,” Sinitïa said.

“It’s okay,” Meleng said.

She touched his sword arm. “You should bend your elbow a little. You’re too stiff.”

“Oh.” He gulped and did as she said.

“I think we’re going to get away,” Gen said, “so you probably won’t need that sword, lad. We’re not going to be boarded.”

Meleng lowered the sword, though he wasn’t sure where to put it.

“Nice work with the grapples, by the way,” Gen said.

“Thank you.”

“But we’re going to have to sit down and have a long talk after this is over. I know I agreed to your terms for passage, but I didn’t quite realise what I was in for. I take full responsibility for my part, but given the circumstances, I’d like a few more details if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” Meleng said.

Gen just nodded.

Sinitïa smiled at him, her cheeks dimpling. “Have you seen what Jorvan’s doing?”

He nodded.

“It’s amazing!”

Meleng looked towards the funnel and two ships. There was no sign of Jorvan, though the Isyar couldn’t be far. He hoped Jorvan was fine. The strain he must be putting on his wing…

He looked back at Sinitïa. She was staring at him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah.” She frowned and scrunched her nose. “I guess I shouldn’t have come, should I?” Meleng started to respond, but she continued, “I knew they would search for me, but I didn’t think it would be like this. I didn’t mean to put everyone in danger. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Meleng said.

“It’s just, you’re my only friend, and I wanted to see you. You are my friend, right? You’re not using me like Mother and Annai say?”

He moved closer and put an arm around her. “Of course I’m your friend, and I’m glad you came.”

She smiled. “Then I’m glad I came, too.”

They stood there and watched as the Lustrous Rose made it farther out to sea. After a while, the funnel stopped spinning and the water collapsed back into the sea. Shortly after, Jorvan flew back over the Lustrous Rose. The wind picked up and the sails filled out more.

Meleng wasn’t sure how long it took, but first the harbour, and then the two pursuing ships got gradually smaller and smaller before disappearing over the horizon.

Jorvan landed on the poop deck and fell to his knees. Meleng and Sinitïa rushed over to him.

“You should have enough wind to get far ahead, Captain,” Jorvan said. He gasped for air.

“Are you all right?” Sinitïa asked.

Jorvan nodded. “I am just exhausted.” He stood up. His injured wing twitched and a brief grimace passed his face.

“Your wing,” Meleng said.

“It will be fine.”

“You shouldn’t exert yourself so much. Your wing won’t heal properly.”

“There was no other choice.”

Meleng sighed. “I know, but please just be careful.”

Jorvan nodded. “Of course.” He walked over to Captain Gen.

“I don’t think there are words enough to express my gratitude, Jorvanultumn,” Gen said. “We would not have escaped without you.”

“You would not have needed to escape if we were not here.” Jorvan looked away as he spoke. When he was finished, he turned back to Gen. “Was anyone hurt?”

Gen shook his head. “Not seriously. A few minor injuries, I’m told, when the trebuchet hit us, but we were lucky overall.”

“I did my best not to harm any of those chasing us, but I cannot guarantee no one was harmed.”

Gen patted Jorvan’s shoulder. “To be completely honest, Jorvanultumn, the well-being of our attackers in not high on my list of priorities at the moment, so don’t feel bad if any were hurt. I mentioned to Meleng a few minutes ago, though, that I do want to speak to the three of you later, once we’ve established a secure lead and everyone has had a chance to recover a little. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check in with my officers. Jeanne, come!” He moved off, the dog following at his heels.

Sinitïa frowned and watched the dog go.

“We should head below deck,” Meleng said. “Get out of the crew’s way.” He reached for Sinitïa’s hand, but remembered the sword in his other. “I should return this.”

Sinitïa looked back at him. She linked her arm around his and huddled close to him as they made their way across deck. Jorvan followed.

Ting was already shaking their head when Meleng first saw them. He held out the sword as he approached.

The first mate took the sword from him and passed it to a nearby crewmember. “You made it to her in the end, at least.”

“She ran off.” Meleng glanced at Sinitïa, who blushed and buried her face in his shoulder.

Ting shook their head again. “Yes, I noticed. Below deck with both of you. Jorvan, if you are able, we could still use you.”

Jorvan straightened up. His injured wing twitched. “I am very tired, but I will do what I can.”

Meleng turned sharply, inadvertently yanking Sinitïa. “You need to rest.”

“I will—”

Meleng turned back to Ting. “According to Captain Gen, you have a strong lead for the moment. Jorvan has exerted himself beyond what he should have. He needs time to rest.”

“I will not deny him rest if that is what he wishes,” Ting said.

Meleng looked back at Jorvan. “You really should rest.”

Jorvan bowed his head. “Very well. I will rest. My apologies, First Mate Ting. However, if other ships start to gain on us, please let me know, and I will do what I can then.”

“As you wish.” Ting stood aside and let them continue on their way.

They descended below deck to their cabin. Once there, Sinitïa flung herself onto her bunk. Jorvan sat on the edge of his and Meleng sat beside him. The Isyar slumped forward, hanging his head low and breathing heavily. Meleng figured he should climb up to his own bunk and let Jorvan rest. After all, he was pretty exhausted too. It was still early, but with his lack of sleep during the night and all the excitement just now, Meleng was certain that if he lay down, he’d fall asleep instantly. However, Jorvan’s wing was still twitching constantly.

“Let me see your wing.”

Jorvan made the slightest of sounds and turned a little to allow Meleng better access to the wing.

Meleng felt gently along one of the leather-like flaps, then along one of the delicate bones. Despite the lightness of his touch, Jorvan flinched. The entire wing trembled, and Meleng withdrew his hand. At several of the joints, the normally grey skin had taken on a pale pinkish-red colour. Where the bone had broken, it was a much darker, dull red. Meleng reached out again, trying to touch the wing with even less pressure than before. Jorvan flinched again, but this time kept his wing under control. The bones were so fragile.

“You have got to take better care,” Meleng said.

Further along the wing, nearer the tip, a tear that had nearly healed had reopened. It wasn’t bleeding, thankfully. “Hold on. I need to put some stitches in again.”

He retrieved his scrip from his bunk, and took a needle and thread from it. He lit a candle and held the needle in the flame until it became too hot to hold any longer. Then he threaded the needle as it cooled, pulled a small bottle of alcohol from his scrip, and turned back to Jorvan. “Spread your wing.”

Jorvan turned a little more to give himself room, then spread his wing as much as the cramped space would allow.

Meleng squeezed along the side of Sinitïa’s bunk. She had fallen asleep and was sprawled out, leaving little room. However, he was able to find a bit of space at the very edge near the tear in Jorvan’s wing. He poured a little alcohol along the torn edge of each flap. Then he began to sew them back together. “You do too much. You’ll be lucky if this tear doesn’t scar.”

“Would you have me do nothing?” Jorvan said. “Leave others in need? Let them die?”

“No, of course not. Just...I don’t know...less.” Meleng sighed. “It’s not just today. You’ve been over-exerting yourself for ages and not giving yourself time to recover. First, you kept pushing yourself in Ninifin, in a climate that could have killed you. You fought battles when you could barely stand. Even after breaking your wing, you’ve kept pushing yourself.”

“There has not been any other choice.”

“Really? You want to help people, but you won’t be able to help anyone if you’re dead.”

“I am not in danger of dying. If my wing does not heal, I will not be the first flightless Isyar.”

The ship swayed and Meleng let go of the wing to avoid pulling on it. When the ship levelled again, he resumed the work. “You shouldn’t speak like that.”

Jorvan looked up at Meleng. “I am sorry to worry you.” He looked so tired.

“It’s okay. I know there hasn’t been much other choice. Just be careful, okay?”

Jorvan nodded and gave a feeble smile. “I will try.”

Meleng finished stitching the wing, then sat beside Jorvan again. They sat in silence for a while, Meleng watching Sinitïa sleep.

Eventually, Meleng said, “You should get some sleep. I’ll let you rest.” He stood up and started to climb up to his own bunk.

“May I ask you something, Meleng?” Jorvan said. “About Sinitïa.”

Meleng paused. “Of course.” He sat beside Jorvan again.

“I have noticed First Mate Ting and several other crew refer to her as your...girlfriend.”

Meleng grimaced.

“I know I have not mastered the language perfectly, and I realise Sinitïa is a girl and a friend, so the term is literally correct. However, if I understand correctly, the two words used together in that manner indicate a romantic or sexual coupling. Yet I—”

“Ting says that to make fun of me,” Meleng said hastily.

“Then it is not true?”

Meleng shook his head. “No, not in that way.”

“In another way?”

“No, I just…”

“I have only had a few days to observe the two of you together, but your behaviour with her is very different from your behaviour with other people, as is hers with you. When you speak of your journey to Scovese, you speak of her in a different way to others as well. When I travelled with Rudiger and Zandrue, I noticed they too behaved in different ways with each other than with others. I am not saying it was the same as you and Sinitïa, but…”

Meleng sighed. He did act differently with Sinitïa, he supposed, but then, he acted differently with everyone, didn’t he? Everyone was different.

“I am sorry,” Jorvan said. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s all right,” Meleng said. “Believe me, Sinitïa and I are just friends.”

Jorvan smiled. “I believe you. I am simply trying to understand human romantic relationships. They confuse me.”

“Yeah, they confuse me too.” Meleng glanced over at Sinitïa, who was still sleeping soundly. “I suppose she’s a different sort of friend though. What’s it like with Isyar?”

“Simpler,” Jorvan said.

Meleng chuckled. “That’s not very specific. What was it like with you and your...fomase? Is that the correct word?”

“It is, but it is pronounced fomase.”

Meleng couldn’t tell any difference between that and how he had pronounced it.

“We just knew. Isyar just know. When the bond forms, we gain an empathic link. We can almost feel each other’s senses. There is no denying the bond the way some humans deny the attraction they have to each other.”

Meleng frowned. “I thought you said you believe me.”

“I do. I was referring to the way Rudiger and Zandrue behaved before admitting their situation to themselves and others.”

Meleng smiled and nodded. “Oh, I see. Your way does sound a lot simpler.”

Jorvan chuckled. “It is, though the bond can sometimes form with people you do not expect it to. There was someone I grew up with. We were very close. She, I, and everyone we knew expected the bond to form between us. Instead, the very first time I saw Fevionawishtensen, the bond formed with her. Chiansamorkin—the one I grew up with—was very upset when she learned. When I left Isyaria, she had not yet bonded with anyone. I hope that has changed. I would like her to be happy. So you see, there can be some complications, even with Isyar.”

Meleng patted Jorvan’s arm. “I should let you relax.”

“This has been very relaxing,” Jorvan said, “but I understand what you mean. It will try to sleep. Thank you for your concern for me.”

“You’re welcome.” Meleng climbed onto his bunk.

“You are a good friend, Meleng.”

“You too.” Meleng lay down and closed his eyes. Sleep came quickly.

* * * * *

Jorvanultumn sat up after Meleng had fallen asleep. He was exhausted, but he had suffered worse exhaustion. Right now, his mind was too active to sleep.

The ship was on its way at last—truly on its way to their destination. He was taking a risk doing this, returning to Isyaria with his elispt not even half complete. It would only be a brief deferment; he would not be in Isyaria long. That was what he had been telling himself, and what he would tell his diare. He was confident Davorultumn would accept the explanation, although he would be unhappy about it. Yet there was the possibility he would not. Jorvanultumn was risking great shame.

His own shame he could handle, however.

What about Fevionawishtensen? What would she think?

It had been so long since he had seen her. He longed to see her again. The sooner, the better. Yet he knew it should be much longer yet. Would she hate him for that?

What he was doing was necessary. He was convinced of that, and there was no way he was going to change his mind. Yet he could not avoid the worry he would not be able to convince Mikranasta to return with him to Quorge to help Felitïa, and thus he would have broken his elispt for nothing but a fruitless endeavour. He would have disappointed Fevionawishtensen without accomplishing anything.

The thought was terrifying.

Then there was Sinitïa. He looked over at her, the soft glow around her flickering as she slept. It was not that unusual to see humans with magical talent. About a quarter of them had it, and most went untrained. However, with most, their glow was faint enough that it was barely noticeable and easily ignored. In Sinitïa’s case, the glow was too strong to ignore. He had never before seen a human with so much raw talent. Not even Felitïa had as much and Felitïa had more than any other human he had previously seen. Sinitïa’s talent exceeded even his own. It approached the level of Chiansamorkin’s, one of the most powerful—in raw talent—Isyar Jorvanultumn knew.

Normally, untrained humans with talent would never know of it. At Sinitïa’s strength, however, the possibility existed of accidentally tapping into it without realising. She could burn herself out—literally—in an instant. She needed training. No Isyar would agree to train a human, yet Jorvanultumn doubted any human teacher could handle the power they would be unleashing. He might have to teach her himself—another thing that would ostracise him from his people.

He had not yet told Meleng just how much potential Sinitïa had. He would have to tell him—and Sinitïa—eventually, and it would have to be before they reached Isyaria, as Isyar there would almost certainly react to her. Yet he worried about Sinitïa’s reaction. Her innate curiosity would likely lead to her trying to experiment with her talent, increasing the danger of her accidentally killing herself.

He would discuss it with Meleng first, and they would come up with a plan. There was time yet.

Jorvanultumn looked at his bunk. He was not going to sleep now. He was much too nervous.

Being careful not to wake Meleng or Sinitïa, he stood up and went to help on deck.