of the table, holding his head. But where was Sniraga?
Taliktrum's voice, high-pitched with fear: 'Papa!' Years since he called Talag that.
Then Dri saw the cat. She had leaped to a dinner chair, rolling and striking at something-at Taliktrum, as the boy parried both her front paws, his sword a blinding arc. Steldak held her tail in one hand, and with the other slashed wildly with Fentrelu's knife. Talag, limp and bloodied, hung from Sniraga's mouth.
Dri sprinted for the chair. Blood was splashing from her hand but she did not feel it. Talag! Talag!
The chair crashed over, Taliktrum was pinned. And Sniraga, with one great bound, leaped through the open door.
Dri ran until she thought her heart would burst, no longer caring who saw her. Steldak held the cat's tail for half the length of the empty passageway. Then he too fell, gripping a handful of fur. Her neck gushing blood, Sniraga skidded around the corner and was gone.
The other ixchel escaped unseen. The prayers in the hold that night were not for Steldak-who offered suicide, and sat stone-faced, alone-but for Talag, their master, slain with no thought of self above the clan.
Running Before the Storm
2 Teala 941
80th day from Etherhorde
Druffle's ship was the Prince Rupin, but the only thing princely about her was her name. Pazel gasped at the sight. The vessel sagged at the waist like an old mule, her paint little more than a memory. Torn rigging dangled from her spars, and sailors aloft moved gingerly, as if expecting the footropes to snap. She had no gunports, but three rusty cannon pointed backward from the quarterdeck. Apparently she was used to being chased.
Her captain was a frowning, bushy-haired man with no love for Mr. Druffle, and, 'Right hazardous, and a fool's waste of time!' was his greeting as the skiff drew up to Prince Rupin's side. Druffle answered with a rude gesture involving the eel.
One by one the purchased boys climbed her ladder, followed by Druffle and his Volpek thugs. The boys huddled near the bow, ignored by the surly crew. Already men were straining at the capstan, weighing anchor. Bakru, Wind-Sire, they chanted, half asleep. Do not let your lions devour us. Soon they were drifting with the river's flow, leaving the islets behind, sliding into the sea.
Dawn was breaking, and Pazel knew from one glance at the water that it would be rough sailing. A fierce south wind battered them from portside, and yellow-black clouds like bad bruises were gathering ahead.
He wrapped the old coat about himself more tightly. The waves were ragged and confused. And yet (with Druffle at his elbow, urging him on) the captain ordered the mainsails set.
'The mains?' said Neeps, as if he couldn't believe his own ears.
Pazel looked at the wind-torn sea. 'Impossible,' he said.
The other boys looked at them anxiously. 'What's wrong? Are you tarboys? What's impossible?'
But it was happening. Sailors aloft-leechlines freed-the big square sails flashing open-
'Hold on!' Pazel shouted.
The ship leaped forward. Timbers groaned, old sheets struggled to rip bolt from frame; on the spars above men clung to anything that seemed likely to be there a moment later. The wind was soon moaning through the stays, and the waves on the bow were like men trying to kick in a door.
Pazel and Neeps had heard all these sounds before-but never all at once, and never on such an obviously ghastly ship. But if they were frightened, the other boys were terrified. One fell seasick in the first few minutes and had to lean over the rail in the lashing spray.
Druffle, however, looked almost merry. He staggered about the deck, black coat flapping scarecrow-like, gazing up with approval at the great spread of canvas.
'He's a loon!' said Pazel. 'This old hulk won't take such speed!'
Neeps shook his head. 'This is bad business, mate-I can smell it. But what are we to do? It's plain they don't want our opinion.'
'They don't,' Pazel agreed. But he couldn't take his eyes from the sails.
'Come on,' said Neeps. 'Let's get out of this wind. And talk, if we can.'
They took shelter behind one of the Rupin's sorry-looking lifeboats. At first they could still barely hear each other. But by lying on their stomachs with their heads close together, they managed to talk almost normally. And Neeps had much to tell about the Chathrand. The mystery of the slaughtered rats was just the beginning. A rumor had also spread among the tarboys that the ship's carpenters and blacksmiths were at work on a secret project, deep in the ship. Whole decks were off-limits, night and day, except to sailors cleared by Rose himself.
'Reyast heard talk of an iron door and a padlock,' said Neeps. 'He thinks they're building an extra brig.'
'But there's nobody locked up in the regular brig. What do they need two for?'
'Your guess is as good as mine,' said Neeps.
'I can't guess at all,' said Pazel. 'But you haven't told me what happened to you.'
'I'm coming to that. I told you it was Jervik's doing-blast him! — but it was also Thasha's. Honest to salt, that girl is a menace!'
It seemed Thasha and Syrarys had had a ripping fight. Thasha had caught the consort opening vials of Ambassador Isiq's headache medicine: vials sealed by Dr. Chadfallow back in Etherhorde. Syrarys claimed she was merely adding an herbal tonic to calm Isiq's nerves. 'Tasteless and harmless,' she told Thasha. 'You could drink it by the glass.' But Thasha didn't believe a word of it. She accused Syrarys of poisoning her father.
'But they're married-or close enough!' said Pazel.
'Well, mate, ain't that the question?' Neeps gave him a hard look. 'Is it close enough for her to inherit his gold, if Isiq knocks off?'
'Are you saying she wants him dead?'
'Who knows? Thasha might be cracked. She thinks that old crone Oggosk is spying on her-ever since the woman's cat got hold of her necklace. And she also suspects Jervik.'
'Jervik, a spy? Who would be fool enough to use him?'
'Nobody, but Thasha's convinced of it. We met an hour after they took you ashore. You might as well know she was crying her eyes out.'
'For her father?'
'For you, you thick stump. Days running.'
Pazel thought the wind had played a trick on his ears. Neeps couldn't suppress a laugh.
'Aye, Pazel, she's a wee bit fond of you! 'Money, why didn't I give him some money?' she kept wailing-not a bad question, either. But she's in trouble herself now. Her father took Syrarys' side in that fight. 'You may want what's best for me, girl,' he told her, 'but Syrarys knows what is.' That just about broke Thasha's heart. And it was while she was telling me all this-we were down on the mercy deck-that we heard a thump a few yards away. It was Jervik, and two other tarboys what've become his bootlicks. They were crouched behind a bulkhead, listening.
'They claimed Uskins had sent them to check on a noise in the rudder-chains. But Thasha went wild on 'em. 'Do I sound like a rudder-chain? Is that why you follow me around? Is that why you pressed that ugly ear to my door last night?' Jervik said he never did. But he said it with a wink at his mates. Oh, Pazel'-Neeps grinned from ear to ear-'he should have skipped that wink.'
'What happened?'
'She whacked him silly, mate. I've never seen the like. Jervik was pinned up against the wall before he knew what hit him, protecting his tender parts. One of his mates took off running. The other one grabbed Thasha's arms from behind. I got him off-clipped him two good ones in the stomach-but he, well-'
'He beat you,' said Pazel.
'Only because of his rings,' said Neeps, turning scarlet. 'Otherwise I'd have had him. Tubsung, that smelly hulk. Anyway, I blacked out for a moment. When my head cleared Tubsung was on the deck. So was Jervik, curled up in a ball. Thasha was standing over them, shouting, calling them worms. I mean loud, mate. Like screaming. WOOOORMS!'
