Traitor's Moon

own, an indefinable expression in her eyes that was neither sadness nor envy. “I’ll do well to keep it in mind once we get to Aurënen, won’t I? I understand negotiating with them is something of a challenge.”
    Seregil laughed softly to himself. “Well, their concept of hurrying will certainly be different than ours.”
    Alec was pacing the deck their third afternoon out when a lookout suddenly shouted down, “Plenimaran ship to the southeast, Captain!”
    Seregil was up on the aft castle with Klia and Captain Farren, and Alec hurried up to join them. Everyone was scanning the horizon. Shading his eyes, Alec squinted across the water and found an ominous shape against the late-afternoon glare.
    â€œI see her,” Captain Farren said. “She’s too far off yet to tell if she’s spotted us.”
    â€œIs it the Plenimarans?” Thero asked, joining them at the rail.
    â€œTime to earn your keep,” Klia told him. “Can you keep them from seeing us?”
    Thero thought a moment, then plucked a loose thread from his sleeve and held it up. Alec recognized the trick; he was testing the wind’s direction.
    Satisfied, Thero raised both hands in the direction of the enemy vessel and chanted in a high, faint voice. Drawing a wand of polished crystal from the folds of his coat, he flung it toward the distant ship. Glittering like an icicle, it spun end over end and disappeared below the grey-green waves. Tendrils of mist immediately curled up where it fell.
    Thero snapped his fingers; the wand sprang out of the water and into his hands like a live thing, trailing a thick rope of mist in its wake. Pulled by the wizard’s spell, heavy fog spread with supernatural speed into a thick bank that shielded their vessel from sight.
    â€œUnless they have a wizard of their own aboard, they’ll think we’re just a bit of weather,” he said, drying the wand with the edge of his cloak.
    â€œBut we can’t see them, either,” said the captain.
    â€œI can,” Thero replied. “I’ll keep watch.”
    The ruse worked. Within half an hour Thero reported that the Plenimaran ship had disappeared over the horizon. He ended the spell and the fog bank fell behind them like a hank of wool torn from a distaff.
    The sailors on deck let out a cheer, and Klia gave Thero an approving salute that brought a flush to the young wizard’s cheeks.
    â€œThat’s as nice a bit of magic as I’ve ever seen,” Farren called from the stern.
    From across the deck, Alec saw Seregil stroll over to the wizard. He was too far away to hear what passed between them, but Thero was smiling when they parted.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    Shouts of landfall woke Alec at dawn the next day.
    â€œAurënen already?” he said, scrambling from beneath the blankets. Seregil sat up and rubbed his eyes, then rose to join the crowd already gathered at the port rail. They could just make out a distant line of low islands on the western horizon.
    â€œThose are the
Ea’malies
, the ‘Old Turtlebacks,’ ” Seregil said, stifling a yawn.
    Klia eyed the close-lying islands distrustfully. “A likely place for an ambush.”
    â€œI’ve sent up extra lookouts,” Farren assured her. “We should reach Big Turtle by this afternoon. We’ll put in there for fresh water, then it’s just another day to Gedre.”
    This day seemed longer to Alec than all the rest put together. Bows slung ready over their shoulders, he and Seregil took their turn on watch, scanning the surrounding water. In spite of Klia’s concerns, however, they reached the outlying islands without incident and set a course toward the largest.
    Sitting atop the forecastle with Thero and Seregil, Alec studied the islands for signs of life. But they were arid, little more than domed masses of pale, sun-baked stone scattered over with patches of sparse vegetation.
    â€œI thought you said Aurënen was green,” said Thero, clearly less than impressed.
    â€œThis isn’t Aurënen,” Seregil explained. “No one claims them, really, except sailors and smugglers. Gedre is dry, too, as you’ll soon see. The winds sweep up from the southwest across the Gathwayd Ocean and drop their rain as they go over the mountains. Across the Asheks the green will hurt your eyes.”
    â€œSarikali,” Thero murmured. “What do