barreled into Jervik, who stood blocking his way.
'Pazel!' said the big tarboy. Still struggling to be friendly-or at least nonhostile.
'What is it?'
Jervik glanced in the direction of the lifeboat. 'He's an Ormali same as you, right?'
'Druffle? That's what he told me. Listen, I really have to-'
'Then you can wish away his hex.'
'What?'
'His hex. His spell on the wind. It's muketch magic, ain't it?'
Pazel just looked at him. The boy was perfectly serious.
'Jervik,' said Pazel carefully, 'the man rowing that boat isn't doing the magic. And I don't know any spells, muketch or otherwise.'
From the older boy's face it was clear he didn't believe a word. Or didn't wish to. Then, to Pazel's amazement, Jervik slipped the brass Citizenship Ring from his finger and held it up.
'Yours,' he said, 'if you'll just do as I'm askin'.'
'But I don't know any magic.'
'Come off it,' said Jervik. 'All those talks with that mink-mage-thing? That Ramachni fellow? Yeah, I know about 'em!' He looked a little sheepish, suddenly. 'There's speaking-tubes all over this ship. You can listen at 'em, too. Swellows made me do it.'
I'll bet you volunteered, thought Pazel. But there was no point in denial now 'I've learned a few things from Ramachni, that's true. And they might even help us, if you'll just-'
Jervik pawed at him. 'Do it now! Wish his spell away!'
'Let me go,' said Pazel, his voice hardening. 'Before it's too late.'
But Jervik was too frightened to hear. His bullying instincts returned with a vengeance: he seized Pazel by the arms and shook him. 'Wish it away! You're the only one who can!'
I'm going to have to fight this idiot, thought Pazel. And feeling the immense strength in Jervik's arms he knew he couldn't win.
But suddenly the big tarboy screamed in pain. His leg lashed out, and something small and black struck the open hatch-cover with a thump, then fell senseless through the opening below.
'Bit me!' howled Jervik, releasing Pazel and clutching his ankle. 'That damn blary rat!'
Felthrup!
Blood covered Jervik's hands. Pazel threw himself down the ladder, fearing the worst. There lay the short- tailed rat: barely able to raise his head. Was that Jervik's blood alone? Pazel couldn't stop to find out. He scooped up the lame creature and made a dash for Thasha's stateroom. Men stared at him: other boys were running with gunpowder and cannonballs. He was bearing a rat.
Thasha waited in her doorway. 'Felthrup!' she cried. 'What's happened to you?'
'M'lady-' squeaked the rat.
'Hush!' said Pazel. 'Just rest! You're a hero already.'
They laid Felthrup on Thasha's pillow. His breathing was shallow, and he blinked as though his eyes could not focus.
'Leave me,' he said. 'Do what you came to do.'
As Pazel tried to make Felthrup more comfortable, Thasha turned to her clock. Around and around she spun the hands. 'If he's not in his Observatory, we're done for,' she said.
'Just hurry,' said Pazel.
When the clock read nine minutes past seven, she stopped. 'We have to wait three minutes,' she said. 'That's just how it works.'
They were the longest three minutes Pazel had ever known. Above them, Uskins was shouting, 'Fire! Fire!' But not a cannon sounded: the water-weird still lashed at the gunports. Suddenly Thasha gave his hand a fond squeeze. Pazel squeezed back, but as he did so he felt a certain unpleasant tightness in his chest.
When the minute hand moved for a third time, Thasha bent down and whispered: 'Ramachni!' The clock sprang open with a snap.
There was a whirl of black fur. Almost before they saw him, Ramachni had bounded onto Thasha's bed. Gently, the mink licked the black rat's forehead. Felthrup gave a whistling sigh.
'He will sleep now,' said Ramachni. 'But we must make haste.'
'You knew we were coming?'
'Oh no, dear girl! But I certainly hoped. Whole days have I waited at my desk. And I have certain tools for doing more than just waiting. Listen carefully, please: neither of you have ever faced a danger like the one trying to board this ship. We must work together or be swept away.'
Thasha put her shawl over the clock. 'It's Arunis under that canvas, isn't it?'
'Yes.'
'Can you beat him?' Pazel asked.
'Not in this world, where I am but a shadow of myself,' said Ramachni. 'But we can beat him. Thasha, you will be called on to show great courage, and great self-control. Pazel, you will have but one chance to speak a Master-Word. As you know, you will forget it the instant you speak, and nevermore hear it in your lifetime. You must choose well.'
Pazel looked into Ramachni's bottomless black eyes. A word that tamed fire and a word that made stone of living flesh and a word that blinded to give new sight. The simplest Master-Words of all, the least dangerous. But if he chose wrong, Arunis and the Shaggat would win, and nothing would stop the war.
'Why can't you just tell me which Word to use?' he begged.
'For the simplest of reasons,' said Ramachni. 'Because I don't know. But remember this, both of you. We are not fighting Arunis and his beast alone. We are fighting an Empire. Sandor Ott is defeated-perhaps. But many hands are yet turning the wheel he set in motion.'
At that moment they heard feet running in the outer stateroom. Thasha's door flew open and Hercуl stood there, breathing hard, his sword naked in his hand.
'Ramachni,' he said. 'The hour is come.'
Dollywilliams Druffle stopped his rowing. The little dog wagged its tail. The lifeboat had come within thirty feet of the Chathrand. Beside the motionless behemoth it was little more than a bobbing cork. A hideous smell rose from it, as of sun-rotted meat.
The water-weird still shimmered against the gunports, a moist cloud shaped like a man. Otherwise the sea lay as if dead. No wave nor puff of wind could be felt. High overhead clouds were racing, but they might have belonged to another world. Here nothing moved but the gulls.
'You there, smuggler!' cried Rose suddenly, leaning down from the rail. 'Get hence with that corpse! Release this ship! You're in the Straits of Simja, no great distance from either shore. We'll lower you a mast and sailcloth, if you need them. You can sail where you like.'
Druffle said nothing. His back was still to the Chathrand.
'Do you think that rain-fairy is going to scare us? By the Pits, I'll see those gulls glut on your entrails before I let you touch my ship!'
He stormed down the ladder and into the wheelhouse. A moment later he emerged with an immense harpoon. Raising the weapon to his shoulder, he closed one eye and rushed the rail with the force of a buffalo. The harpoon sailed straight through the water-weird and right for Druffle's neck. The freebooter never saw it coming.
But at the last second, like a dark flame, a figure leaped up from beneath the cloth, knocking Druffle sideways. For an instant it looked as if the harpoon had pierced them both. Yet there it quivered in the boat's hull, and neither man had been slain.
'It's the soap man!' blurted Uskins.
Looking steadily up at the Chathrand, Arunis slowly pulled his old scarf from about his neck. A small red spot stained the white cloth. He bent and wiped it on the canvas, which still appeared to be covering something rather large, and wound it about his throat once more.
'You're a good shot,' he said. 'But the day may come, Captain Rose, when you regret lifting your hand against me. Or even against my servant. Not that Mr. Druffle is particularly vital to my purposes. He was, of course-when I
