As the days passed the wind stayed constant but someone was needed at the tiller even at night. Amber struggled with its weight so Miro never slept more than a short amount at a time. It was wearying, and with the monotonous diet of fish he felt his strength steadily sapped.
With a great continent to aim for, they had little chance of becoming lost. Miro hoped they would find land soon.
They grew more confident and after two days they hoisted the mizzen stay sail. The caravel picked up speed, leaping through the water, flying like a bird.
Miro and Amber sailed this way for six days. They relied on each other heavily in a way they never had before and their relationship became strengthened by shared hardship and cooperation.
On the seventh day, the storm struck.
It came from nowhere. Miro saw dark clouds gathering in the west as the sun dipped below the horizon. Even as the light faded, he saw the sky roiling and then heard the sound of sudden thunder.
Miro felt a surge of fear. He didn't dare to change course yet the storm lay directly in their path.
As the sun disappeared below the horizon the light faded to black. But then lightning flashed, sheets of white spreading across the sky, and it started to rain. Water came out of the sky in a torrent, heavy drops that stung the skin.
"Amber!" Miro called.
He saw her exit the companionway, silhouetted by the next flash of lightning. "Amber!" he cried again.
He felt helpless, unable to take his blistered hand from the tiller.
"What should we do?" she came forward to hear him.
"We're in the path of the storm," Miro yelled. "I need you to take the sails down. Soon as possible!"
The lightning was now overhead and it was jagged, forks of white energy striking the sea again and again. The downpour increased intensity until Miro could no longer see, the water hitting his face and eyes with ever greater force.
A mighty wave lifted the caravel up and then crashed down on the deck. The prow went under the next wave and the Intrepid threatened to tip. Miro thrust hard with the tiller, pointing the caravel into the wave. He realised he couldn't hold his course any longer; he needed to ride the waves and prevent a surge from the side rolling the caravel over.
Miro peered through the torrent and could see Amber still hadn't managed to take down the sails. With the sails still set, a squall would capsize the ship. He wondered if he should leave the tiller and fetch his cutlass from the captain's cabin. Perhaps he could cut the sails down — they would lose them, but it was better than drowning.
Miro's decision was made for him when with a mighty crack, the main mast snapped at the deck, coming down with a great crash.
The ship turned in the sea, and Miro felt the muscles in his arm screaming as he fought to keep the caravel perpendicular to the huge rolling waves.
"Amber!" Miro cried. Had she been injured when the mast went down?
He shielded his eyes and then in a flash of lightning he saw her. She had the cutlass in hand as she cleared the fallen sail from the deck. Half of the sail was in the water, making Miro's task at the tiller nearly impossible.
Miro was completely soaked, the rain splattering against his skin, stinging his face and back. The size of the waves increased until they were as tall as mountains, mighty walls of water with curling caps. If a wave broke on top of the Intrepid, they were doomed.
Amber managed to free the fallen sail, and Miro turned the caravel against the next monstrous wave. The bucking motion of the ship was so strong he felt his grip on the tiller was the only thing keeping him where he was.
Then with another terrible crash the mizzen mast went down. Amber ran across the swamped deck to free the smaller sail.
Miro concentrated on keeping them alive.
The night grew darker, and the thunder grew louder. Lightning flashes seemed to come with every breath Miro took, as the storm became ever more vicious, the howling wind stronger, the waves taller still.
Miro pushed at the tiller, feeling the caravel come round to meet the next terrifying wave.
The wind whipped against the fallen stay sail, and a stout length of wood, still attached to a line, flew up into the air.
It snapped against Miro's head with a crack.
He fell down, and everything went black.
20
ELLA had now left the Akari, fortuitously travelling with Hermen Tosch as far south as Mara Maya, the Louan capital. She studied both the damaged book of the Evermen and the new skills she'd learned from the Akari on the journey south. After Mara Maya, Ella bid farewell to the trader. From here on she would make her own way to Stonewater.
Barnabas, the cantankerous old necromancer, had taught Ella the things she needed to know. Her plan had advanced one step further.
She now knew a being of incredible evil was in Merralya. The Empire needed Killian.
Ella finally allowed herself to believe that her plan could work. She thought it through again.
Only one of the Evermen could take Ella through the portal.
Killian, as Evrin's descendant, had their powers.
Logically, one of Killian's parents was also descended from Evrin, and also had their powers.