Aphenglow was shaken awake from a deep sleep, lost in a dream that she immediately forgot. She was so disoriented that for a moment she could not remember where she was.
“Aphen, wake up.”
Cymrian. She could not see him. She struggled against the blanket wrapped about her, aware that she was lying on hard planking. The smells of damp wood and caulking overlaid with pungent aromas of old-growth forest invaded her senses, and she remembered.
She sat up too quickly, struck her forehead against a low crossbeam, and was immediately dizzy. She slumped back, trying to find her balance. Hands caught her and held her. Cymrian again. “Steady.”
“Where are we?”
“Hiding. But it’s time to move along. It will be daylight soon, and that warship will be searching for us.”
She nodded, her head against his chest. She could smell the damp in his clothing. “The storm?”
“Passed about an hour ago. It went on for hours. Worst I’ve seen in quite a while.”
“But they didn’t find us?”
“They didn’t find us.”
She remembered the rest then. They had sprinted ahead recklessly to outdistance the larger ship, catching her off balance while she was still at half speed, and had reached a jumble of rolling terrain where they were able to slip down into a heavily shadowed gap in the forest. They could not have been easily seen from the air even in good weather. In the wildness of the storm, they were virtually invisible. Resting less than ten feet above the ground and surrounded by trees much taller than the ship’s mainmast, they had hovered in silence and watched the larger ship pass overhead without slowing.
Not wanting to risk discovery by moving again too soon and less than eager to put themselves back in the air in the teeth of that storm, they had decided to lay low for several hours. Cymrian had persuaded the sisters to bed down belowdecks, and Aphen had gone straight to sleep.
She lifted her head away from his chest, swallowing against the dryness in her mouth. “Arling?”
“Topside already. She was awake before you.”
She started to get to her feet, her dizziness fading. Cymrian’s hands still held her, even though she had not asked him to, guiding her from a prone to a standing position. Wend-A-Way was steady, no sway or rock to her, and even though she must still be hovering, it felt to Aphen as if they were settled on the ground.
“Did she come back again after missing us on the first pass?”
“The warship? No. We’ve been alone since then. I don’t think they could have retraced their route even if they had tried. Not in that storm.” One of his hands moved to her arm. “Come. Walk with me. Give your eyes a chance to adjust.”
She allowed him to guide her to the wooden ladder that led from belowdecks. She climbed obediently, catching a hint of light through the open hatch. But when she arrived on deck, she found the world a place of heavy mist and layered clouds that closed away the sky and shut out the moon and stars. Ambient light that lacked an identifiable source reflected off particles of rain and mist, a wraith’s glow that lit the whole of the hazy shroud in which they were wrapped.
Arling was standing by the port railing watching the Elven crewmen, who were changing out the diapson crystals. She turned at the sound of her sister’s approach and smiled. “You were so sound asleep, I didn’t want to wake you.”
Aphen laughed. “Do you see anything out there?”
“Only mist and more mist. Cymrian says we need to lift off and find our course again before it clears.”
One of the Elven crewmen glanced over. “The sooner, the better. That was a Federation vessel chasing us.”
Aphen turned. “Federation? You’re sure of that?”
The man nodded. “I’d know one of those black devils anywhere.”