“This was later. Ian was gone.” Bannon frowned. “I set off at dusk as the tide went out, and I knew the full moon would light my way throughout the night. I hoped to see the selka, but in my heart, I suspected they were just stories. I’d been told so many things that turned out to be untrue.” He looked sickened, but with obvious effort he restored his expression to a happy grin. “There’s always a chance, though. I rowed into the darkness as the stars came out overhead, and I kept rowing until my arms felt as if they would fall off. After that, I just drifted in the open water. For about an hour I could see the dark line of Chiriya Island, with the lights of hearth fires and lamps from the shoreline villages high above the beaches. Then they vanished into the distance, and I kept on rowing.”
“Where did you think you were going?” Nathan asked. “Just heading out into the open sea?”
Bannon shrugged. “I knew the Old World was out there, a continent filled with cities like Tanimura, Kherimus, Andaliyo—a whole continent! I figured if I simply went far enough, I was bound to bump into shore sooner or later.” He glanced away in embarrassment. “Growing up on an island did not give me a good grasp of large distances. I drifted all night, and when dawn came I saw only water—water in all directions. Like this.” He gestured over the side of Wavewalker.
“I didn’t have a compass or nearly enough supplies. I drifted on the open sea all day long under the baking sun, and I began to grow deeply worried. The heat of the day burned and blistered my skin, but the next night seemed colder than ever. And by the third day, I ran out of water and most of my food. I felt like such a fool. I saw no sign of land, had no idea which direction the Old World lay, or even how to find Chiriya again.
“I cried like a heartbroken child, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I stood up in the wobbly fishing boat and shouted into the distance, hoping someone would hear. That made me feel even more foolish than crying.
“That night the moon was still bright, but a thick blanket of fog settled in—although it wasn’t a blanket, it was cold and clammy. I shivered, more miserable than ever. I couldn’t see anything around me—not that there was anything to see. The moon was just a gauzy glow overhead.”
His voice became a whisper. “On a foggy, silent night you can hear sounds from far away, and distances deceive you. I heard splashes that I thought were sharks, then it sounded like swimming … an eerie voice. I called out again for help. In my imagination I thought it might be the selka come to rescue me, but common sense told me it was just a distant whale, or even a sea serpent. I shouted and shouted, but I heard no answer. Maybe my voice startled whatever it was, and I listened to the silence, nothing but the lapping waves and another distant splash, something that might have been laughter, a giggle … but that couldn’t be true.
“I was so distraught, anxious, exhausted—not to mention hungry and thirsty—that I eventually collapsed during the darkest part of the night and fell into a deep sleep.”
Nathan smiled to encourage the young man. “You have the makings of a storyteller, my boy. You’ve got me intrigued. How did you ever get out of it?”
“I don’t know,” Bannon said. “I honestly don’t know.”
Nathan frowned. “Then you have to work on a better ending for your story.”
“Oh, there’s a good ending, sir. I woke up the next morning, and instead of the silence of the endless waves, I heard the rush of water against a shore, surf riding up on the shingle. I realized that my boat wasn’t rocking anymore. I stood up and nearly fell out. I had washed up on the shore of an island, a place I recognized! This was Chiriya, the same cove where Ian and I used to swim.”
“How did you get back there?”
The young man shrugged. “Sweet Sea Mother, I told you—I don’t know. Sometime during the night when I was unconscious from exhaustion, something had taken me back to our island, brought me safely to shore.”
“Are you sure the currents didn’t just circle you around to your starting point? In the fog, how would you ever know?” Nathan looked down his nose. “You’re not saying it was the selka who rescued you?”
Bannon seemed embarrassed. “I’m saying that I found myself safely back on shore, where I had started from, and I don’t know how. In all the vast ocean and all the islands in the sea, I had come back to the very place I called my home, the cove where I’d started from.” He paused for a long moment, then looked at the wizard and smiled in wonder. “And in the soft dirt of the shore, beside my boat—which had been dragged much farther up out of the water than even a high tide would have left it—I saw a footprint.”
“What kind of footprint?”
“It looked human … almost. But the toes were webbed, like a sea creature’s. I saw the faint impression of what looked like a fin’s edge and sharp points like claws, instead of human toenails.”
Nathan chuckled. “A fine story that is! And you said nothing had ever happened to you.”
“I suppose.…” Bannon did not sound convinced.
The jellyfish swarm showed no sign of abating. Egged on by his crewmates, the broad-shouldered Karl picked up a barb-tipped harpoon and tied a rope through the metal eye on the tail end of the shaft. As the others cheered and hooted, the veteran sailor leaned over the side and tossed the harpoon down to pop one of the jellyfish like a large ripe blister. The iron point pierced the membrane, bursting the gelatinous creature into a smoking puddle. As the residue drifted out among the other jellyfish, its companions scooted away from the remains like fleeing robber bugs.
With guffaws of laughter, the other sailors ran to get more harpoons, but when Karl pulled the harpoon back up by the rope, he grunted in amazement. “Look! Look at this.” The sharpened iron tip was smoking, and it began to droop as acid pitted and ate away the metal.
The other sailors stopped, poised to throw their harpoons as part of the game to pop the jellyfish. Curious, Karl extended a callused finger, but before he could touch the smoking iron tip, Nathan barked a warning. “Leave that alone, or you might lose a hand as well as a harpoon tip.”
Captain Eli scolded them all. “I told you to leave those jellyfish be! The sea has enough dangers for us. We don’t need to make any more.”
With a clatter, the other sailors lowered their harpoons, then sheepishly stowed them away.
CHAPTER 11
The Wavewalker sailed south for a full week. Captain Eli bypassed the larger coastal cities in the Old World, and Nicci was concerned about the changed currents, altered wind patterns, and unreliable stars in the night sky. “Are we lost?” she asked, standing next to the captain at the bow one afternoon.
“Lady Sorceress, I know exactly where I’m sailing.” He wiped the thin end of his pipe between thumb and forefinger, then inserted it back into his mouth. “We are heading straight for the reefs.”
Overhearing, Nathan stepped up to them. “That sounds ominous.”
Pushed along by a steady sea wind, the Wavewalker moved at a fast clip. The captain gazed ahead. “Not if you know where you’re going.”
“And how can you be sure? You claimed the charts and currents were no longer accurate,” Nicci said.
“They aren’t, but I’m a captain, and the salt water of the sea runs through my veins. I can feel it in my senses. But before I can trade in Serrimundi or Lefton Harbor, I need to take on my most valuable cargo. Tomorrow morning, you’ll see what I mean.”
Captain Eli was right.