Higher and higher she soared as the sea breeze billowed her black gown. She landed gently atop one of the wall guard paths, then turned west to look out over the Sea of Whispers.
The dark blue ocean tide was high. From where she stood she could smell the salt air and hear the waves crashing in their endless assault against the shore. The white gulls called noisily to one another as they sought out their next meal.
Enjoy what peaceful time you have left, Jin’Sai, she thought. You will soon pay for your crimes.
CHAPTER IV
“NO, NO, NO!” WIGG CRIED OUT, RAISING HIS HANDS INfrustration. “You’re losing her again!”
Seeing that it was already too late, the First Wizard braced himself.
The great ship fell a good ten meters through the air, then slammed mightily back down onto the ocean. The impact shot seawater plumes high into the sky, and the vessel heeled hard to starboard. Faegan’s chair on wheels nearly tipped over. Wigg slipped to one knee. Seawater fell down, drenching everyone again.
It was plain to see that the two wizards were becoming furious. For her part, it was all Jessamay could do to keep from howling outright. Twice this morning she had already laughed uproariously, adding to the wizards’ growing aggravation and embarrassment.
Sister Adrian stood nearby with a sheepish look on her face. Her red acolyte robe lay soaked against her skin, making her plump figure look thinner. Her sandy hair lying wet on her shoulders, she pursed her lips, then looked toward the deck.
She would have to try harder next time. If she didn’t succeed soon, she feared that the First Wizard’s head might explode with frustration.
It was a sunny day in Eutracia, and the sea winds were light. It was a perfect time to start the acolyte’s training, the two wizards had decided. But as they stood on the drenched deck, they were starting to have their doubts about this project.
With the consuls’ safe houses finally dealt with, the group had returned to Tammerland two days ago. They were all glad to be home, but many important actions still awaited the Conclave’s attention. By mutual agreement, the most vital of these was to devise the plan of attack against the Citadel.
There was more than one reason why capturing the Vagaries scroll had become so important. Without it, Serena and her traitorous consuls would be far less powerful. Wigg and Faegan were acutely aware that the longer she held the document, the greater the likelihood that she would imbue herself with yet more Forestallments. And with the scroll safely in the hands of the Conclave, other Vagaries practitioners would find themselves at a distinct disadvantage. But no matter the Conclave’s battle plan, the siege of the Citadel would be problematic. With the bulk of the Minion armada destroyed, the Black Ships would have to take them there.
Providing I ever get these monstrous vessels to obey my commands, Adrian thought. She had to admit that as the morning wore on, she was becoming less and less optimistic.
Fuming and stamping about like a wet hen, Wigg angrily shook the water from his robe. Then he reached over one shoulder to grasp the braided queue of gray hair falling down his back. After squeezing out the seawater, he tossed the braid back again.
Adrian heard a strange noise. She turned to see several fish flopping around on the deck. Pointing a finger at them, she called the craft and tossed them overboard.
Faegan tilted his head. Inserting a finger into one ear, he tried to free some trapped seawater from his ear canal. His gray hair lay all about his shoulders. Finally overcome, Jessamay just had to laugh again. Wigg scowled.
“What’s so funny?” he demanded. “This is serious work!”
“That might be,” she answered, “but I just can’t help it!”
The blond-haired sorceress was as wet and frustrated as the others, but it didn’t seem to bother her. Smiling, she placed her arms akimbo.
“You should see yourselves!” she exclaimed. “Wigg, I haven’t seen you this perplexed since you were a boy! You had just accidentally blown up your father’s laboratory. As I remember, Faegan was in on it with you. You two were inseparable, even then! Let me remember-what was it that you miscreants were trying to do? Ah, yes- something about perfecting a spell that would allow you the power to turn lead into gold. I thought your father was going to kill you both!”
“I remember,” Wigg grumbled. He looked down at Faegan to see the crippled wizard still trying to drain his ear.
“They wereyour calculations, you know!” Wigg hollered at him.
Faegan looked up crookedly. “Oh?” he shot back. “Just who can remember back that far, eh?”
Wigg quickly pointed a bony index finger. “You can!” he thundered back. “Or have you forgotten about your power of Consummate Recollection?”
“Uh, excuse me,” Adrian said as she walked nearer. “With all due respect, this isn’t getting us anyplace. Our goal was to teach me how to empower the Black Ships-not to fight among ourselves, remember?”
Sighing, Wigg rubbed his brow. “Yes, yes, I know,” he said. “But you aren’t grasping the concept.”
All morning, Wigg, Faegan, and Jessamay had been trying to teach Adrian how to fly one of the Black Ships. Six of the huge vessels had survived Wulfgar’s attack on Tammerland. The five others lay quietly at anchor nearby. If the Conclave’s plans were to succeed, the ships would be needed soon.
Each ship was easily four or five times the size of the largest that had once served the Eutracian fleet. Every part, including the sails, was solid black. Each of the ships’ five black masts rose dozens of meters into the air. Eight full decks lay below their topsides. Despite their huge size, these potent vessels could not only rise from the sea, but fly through the air with great speed. Due to other enchantments, they were nearly impervious to traditional forms of attack. One Black Ship is easily the equivalent of many normal vessels, Wigg was fond of saying.
Several weeks earlier, Tristan had ordered that a bright red image of the Paragon be painted onto each ship’s huge foresail. It had taken an entire Minion host more than a week to finish the job. When freed to the wind, they were an amazing sight.
The ships were all more than three hundred years old. Once the mainstays of the Directorate of Wizards’ battle fleet, they had been sunk by the Coven during the Sorceresses’ War. Using a Forestallment found in the Scroll of the Vagaries, Wulfgar had raised them and pressed them into his service. Now spoils of war, they were again firmly in the control of the Conclave. But the specialized gifts of those trained in the craft were required to unleash their amazing abilities.
Walking back over to her three teachers, Adrian looked at them humbly. Seawater still dripping from his robe, Wigg shot her a questioning glance.
“Are you ready to try again?” he asked.
Adrian nodded. “Yes, but I believe it would help if you explained the theory once more.”
“Very well,” he answered. Taking a deep breath, he looked into her eyes.
“As I have told you, this is a binary spell,” he started, “and they can be tricky. ‘Binary’ means two parts. As you can imagine, tri-spells and quadra-spells are even more difficult. In this case you are not trying to levitate the ship, then push it forward over the waves. Instead, you must change the atmospheric conditions surrounding her. Using the calculations we provided, first you must create a strong vacuum, just above the ship. If the spell is strong enough, the vacuum will attract the ship, causing her to rise.
“Performing the second part of the spell-while also maintaining the first-is the truly delicate part,” he went on to say. “You must simultaneously enlarge the vacuum and cause it to flow down toward the bow. Only then will she hover while being pulled forward. Instead of the wind pushing her from behind, this vessel ispulled into the emptiness of the morphing vacuums. And as we have already seen, if both parts of the calculations are not properly maintained, then the spell fractures, and the ship falls back into the sea. Now then, shall we try again?”
Nodding, Adrian recalled the complicated series of calculations. She raised her arms.
At once the ship started to rise. She wobbled a bit as her massive hull laboriously left the ocean surface.
