Luck in the Shadows

school leaping in flight before the dire form of the ship's namesake, a grampus. Though not large as whales go, it looked positively enormous to Alec. The thought of such monsters swimming about under their very keel left him with a decidedly uneasy feeling.
    The western shore of Skala presented a rugged face. The harsh granite bones of the country lay exposed at the coastline and again in the peaks of its mountainous spine. Between these two stony extremes lay fertile terraces and valleys, the forests and harbors where the Skalan people had found purchase
    centuries before. Above the surf-scoured ledges of the shore, the higher ground sloped back from the sea in a series of ascending undulations to meet the inland mountains.
    Looking shoreward, Alec could make out wagons and riders moving along a coastal highroad.
    A company of horsemen gave off glints of metal through the cloud of dust that half obscured their numbers.
    "That there's the Queen's Highroad," Biny informed him. "It runs all 'round the peninsula, then up the isthmus and clear to Wyvern Dug."
    That evening they put in at a little harbor to unload a shipment of wine and some of the poultry crates, taking on a consignment of copper bars in exchange.
    When the hold was quiet again, Alec settled down next to Seregil, hoping to get a little more broth into him. But after a few spoonfuls he choked and Alec gave up. Seregil's breathing was harsher now, rattling in his throat as his chest slowly rose and fell. As he listened, Alec felt despair crystallizing into a hard lump in his throat. Unable to bear it any longer, he dug down into Seregil's battered pack and found the knotted scarf containing the jewelry. Stuffing it into his tunic, he hurried above in search of the captain and Sedrish.
    "You've got to look at him," he told them, trying to keep his voice from wavering. "I don't think he'll make it at this rate."
    In the hold Sedrish bent over Seregil's still form, then shook his head. "The boy's right, Captain. The man's sinking."
    Talrien felt Seregil's pulse, then sat down on a barrel frowning. "Even if we make straight for the city, passing all ports of call, I don't know that it will be soon enough."
    "But you could do that?" Alec asked.
    Meeting Alec's bleak, determined gaze, Talrien nodded. "I'm master of this ship. I say when she sails and where. It won't do my business any good to come in a week late—"
    "If it's money, then maybe this will help." Alec pulled the handkerchief from his tunic and handed it to him.
    Opening it, Talrien found the heavy gold chain, earrings, and the gold half sester Klia had given Alec.
    "I wasn't supposed to sell those things—he didn't want me to." Alec gestured anxiously in Seregil's direction. "If it's not enough, I think he can more than repay you once we reach the city."
    Talrien retied the cloth and handed it back.
    "I'll have you in Rhнminee by noon tomorrow. We can talk about price later on. Sedrish, fetch this boy some ale."
    When they'd gone, Alec lay down next to Seregil and pulled both their cloaks over them, hoping to lend the sick man some of his warmth.
    Seregil's skin was moist and cold, his eyes deeply sunken beneath braised-looking lids. For an instant Alec thought he saw a faint expression of pain across his features.
    With tears stinging behind his own eyes, Alec grasped one cold hand and whispered, "Don't let go! We're too close now, don't let go."
    Again he thought he caught the faintest flicker of emotion in that still face. Probably it was only a trick of the light.
    — the plain again. Unchanging emptiness and moaning wind. Unchanging emptiness and moaningwind.
    Ah, it was all too maddening! He wanted to curse, yell, kick, strike out. All he could do was spinaround and around like an idiot, sweeping the horizon for some sign. But in the midst of his fury he caught sight of a dark figure in the distance. The dark stalker, his final adversary in life, had it followed him even here?
    But no, even across the gulf of distance that separated them he could make out the figure of a man, the hood of his dark cloak drawn back to reveal the pale oval of a face. And the man was calling to him.
    No, singing!
    He could not catch the words but the melody was so lovely, so filled with welcome and promise, that tears sprang to his eyes. How far? How long to reach him? Impossible to judge distance in this cursed barren place, but no matter. He would run to him, for he suddenly felt wondrously light as he