As the wind whistled through the rigging and the hours dragged on, Nathan suggested that he and Bannon practice their swordplay on deck. The clang of steel rang out in a flurry as the two pranced back and forth, dodging coiled ropes and open rain barrels that had been set out to collect fresh water in anticipation of the imminent storm.
Bannon had gotten noticeably better as a swordsman. He had a reckless energy that served to counteract his gracelessness, and Sturdy lived up to its name, receiving and deflecting blow after blow from Nathan’s much finer blade. For a while, the performance distracted the uneasy crewmen from their gloom.
By the time the young man and the wizard were both exhausted, the afternoon clouds were so thick with the oncoming storm that Nicci couldn’t even see the sunset on the open water. Instead, she merely watched the daylight die.
“Will you show me some magic?” Bannon suggested to Nathan, climbing up on a crate that was too high to serve as a comfortable chair.
“Why would I show you magic?” Nathan asked.
“Because you’re a wizard, aren’t you? Wizards do magic tricks.”
“Wizards use magic. Performing monkeys do tricks.” Nathan raised his thick eyebrows. “Ask the sorceress. Maybe she’ll perform a trick for you.”
Bannon glanced over at Nicci, swallowed hard, then turned back. “I’ve already seen her magic. I know what she can do.”
“You know some of what I can do,” said Nicci.
The carrack rocked back and forth in the rough seas, rising on the swells, then dropping into the troughs. Though most of the Wavewalker’s crew had iron stomachs, some sailors bent over the rail and retched into the open ocean. The masts creaked and groaned; the sails rippled and flapped.
Captain Eli stood with hands on hips and his woolen jacket secured with silver buttons across his chest. “Trim the sails! The wind is getting stronger, and we don’t need any torn canvas.”
Above, the lookout had strapped himself to the mast to keep from being flung overboard when the ship lurched.
With an exaggerated sigh, Nathan acceded to Bannon’s request for a demonstration of magic, even though the young man had not continued to pester him. “All right, watch this, my boy.” The wizard knelt down, smoothed the ruffles of his fine travel shirt, and briskly rubbed his palms together as if to warm them up. “This is just a small hand light, a flame we could use to ignite a fire or illuminate our way.”
“I use sulfur matches, or flint and steel,” Bannon said.
“Then you have magic of your own. You don’t need to see mine.”
“No, I want to see it!” He leaned closer, his eyes bright. “Make fire. Show me.”
Nathan cupped his hands to form a bowl. His brow wrinkled, and he stared into the air, concentrating until a glimmer of light appeared. The wisp of flame curled up and wavered, but when a gust of wind whipped across the deck, the hand fire flickered, then went out. Nathan could not sustain it.
The wizard looked completely baffled. Nicci had seen him create blazing balls of fire before with barely a glance, not to mention far more horrific wizard’s fire that caused great destruction. As if incensed, he concentrated again, then scowled when only a tiny thread of fire appeared, which was again extinguished by the breezes.
“Is it supposed to be that difficult?” Bannon asked.
“I’m not feeling at all well, my boy,” he said, in an obvious, awkward excuse. “Magic requires concentration, and my mind is troubled. Besides, there’s too much wind for a proper demonstration.”
Bannon looked disappointed. “I wasn’t aware that wizards could use magic only under ideal conditions. You told me I had to be ready to fight with my sword, no matter my mood.”
“What do you know of wizards?” Nathan snapped. “Your sulfur matches couldn’t light a fire in a situation like this either.”
Stung, Bannon conceded.
In a more apologetic voice, Nathan said, “It isn’t you, my boy. My Han seems to be … troubled. I’m not entirely sure what to do about it.”
“Your Han?”
“It is what we call the force of magic, the force of life within us, particularly within a wizard. The Han manifests differently in different people. My Han was intertwined with prophecy as well as the ability to use magic, but now that’s all untangled. I’m certain I’ll get it sorted out.”
“Are you sure you’re not just seasick?” Bannon asked, with a teasing lilt in his voice.
“Maybe that’s exactly it,” Nathan said.
Disturbed by what she had seen, Nicci wondered what might be bothering the wizard. Nathan had lost his gift of prophecy with the shift in the world, but his core magic should have remained unaffected. Still, a fire spell was supposed to be quite simple.
“I’m retiring to my cabin.” Nathan turned away, trying to keep his dignity and balance on the rocking deck. “If I am hungry, I may go to the galley for supper when it’s ready.”
Nicci decided to take shelter in her own cabin as well. She didn’t want to distract the superstitious sailors by staying out in the worsening weather.
*
Despite the sorceress’s cold beauty, Sol had known that she was evil and dangerous from the moment he first saw her. His companions noticed only Nicci’s shapely figure, her long blond hair, and a face even more attractive than carvings of the Sea Mother.
When stuck alone on a ship, long at sea, sailors tended to lower their standards of beauty, but there was no denying that this Death’s Mistress was more beautiful than the most expensive whore in the cleanest brothel in Serrimundi. And Nicci was right here for the taking. Whenever the woman flaunted herself on deck, her black dress clung to her curves and rippled around her in the breezes, tightening against her full breasts. Sol imagined the breasts would be soft and pliable, just waiting to be squeezed. He tried to picture her nipples, wondering whether they were dark or pale pink, whether she would gasp if he pinched them.
The other two divers wanted to lay claim to her, but Sol was their leader, and he would have to be first. Their two comrades were dead, and the survivors deserved something. The sorceress owed them all a few rounds of gasping, squirming pleasure. In fact, she owed them the lives of their murdered friends, Pell and Buna. She had somehow used her magic to summon underwater monsters to kill them. Nicci had taunted the divers for days, rebuffed their attentions, insulted them—and now two of his comrades were dead. It was her fault.