Knowing she had been found out, the privateer nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes,” the princess answered. “Especially after hearing what you said to him, just before he disappeared with Xanthus. Tristan’s heart still suffers from Celeste’s passing, but less so than before. In truth, he might be ready to start another relationship. But there is something else about my brother that you need to understand.” Turning back to the sea, Shailiha thoughtfully laced her fingers atop the polished deck rail.

“Until the return of the Coven, Tristan’s entire life-and mine as well-had seen nothing but wealth, ease, and privilege.” She smiled knowingly. “Many thought him arrogant and spoiled. And in some ways, I suppose that they were right. The strange thing is that he never wanted such pampering. He begged our parents night and day to let him pursue a rough-and-tumble career in the Royal Guard. But of course they could not allow it, for they knew that his path lay in a different direction. That always rankled him, and forced him to feel like his destiny was someone else’s to govern. To really know Tristan is to understand how much he hates being told what to do.” Shailiha paused for a few moments, thinking.

“Then, in the space of only a few hours, everything changed,” she went on. “The Coven resurfaced to capture me and the Paragon. Tristan had to grow up literally overnight, so that he could serve the craft, and what remained of his family and his nation. Now he is the ruler of Eutracia, and I am his successor. But it goes far deeper than that. You and the others probably believe that being royalty somehow makes fulfilling our destinies easier. If you do, you’re wrong. Given all the added burdens our offices demand, being the prince and the princess sometimes makes our lives more difficult. Many things weigh heavily on each of us.”

Tyranny gave Shailiha a wry look. “So what are you saying?” she asked. “That I should somehow pity you two? I’m sorry, Your Highness. If you expect that sentiment from me, you’ve chosen the wrong woman.”

Shaking her head, Shailiha laughed quickly down her nose. “No, of course not,” she answered. “What I’m saying is that if you intend to enter Tristan’s heart, go slow. He has many burdens with which to cope. You see, in his earlier, carefree days, he never needed to approach women-they almost always approached him, and he grew tired of it. I have often thought that one of the reasons he was so drawn to Celeste was that she was at first so unavailable to him, and on so many levels. The fact that he was the prince meant nothing to her, and he found that intriguing. It’s true what they say, you know.”

“What’s that?” Tyranny asked.

Shailiha smiled. “That we always want most what we cannot have,” she answered.

Tyranny stared at the deck for a moment. “Thank you for that insight,” she said. “I never considered Tristan that way.”

“You’re welcome,” Shailiha answered. “But don’t come crying to me if he remains aloof! Many women have tried to get truly close, but only Celeste succeeded. Even so, my brother can get under a girl’s skin.”

“I know,” Tyranny said quietly. “I have become one of them.” Looking out to sea, the privateer sighed.

“I will be eager to see him again,” she said, “if and when he returns to us.” Almost immediately, Tyranny regretted her remark. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “It’s just that-”

Giving her a little smile, Shailiha put one hand over hers. “It’s all right,” she said. “We all miss him. We must remain optimistic. When he finally comes home, we can take turns shouting at him for being away so long!” Both women laughed at that idea.

Just then they saw Traax running their way. Stopping abruptly, he clicked his heels.

“Begging your pardon, Your Majesty,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “The wizards are calling an emergency Conclave meeting.”

Tyranny’s wariness resurfaced. “What is it?” she demanded. “Have our patrols sighted something?”

Traax shook his head. “No, Captain,” he answered. “Nor do I know why the wizards deem this impromptu gathering to be of such importance. All I know is that we must go quickly.”

“Very well,” Shailiha said. “Lead the way.” Traax turned and hurried off with the women in tow.

Finally reaching the stern, Traax led Tyranny and Shailiha down a series of hatchway steps. Three decks down he left the stairway to continue along a lamplit hallway, then continued on toward the ship’s stern. Finally he stopped before mahogany double doors. Even before Traax knocked, the women could hear shouting coming from the other side. Without waiting for a response, the Minion commander opened the doors and the three of them walked into the room.

The chamber stretching before them was large and sumptuously decorated. Each Conclave member knew this place. Long ago, this suite of rooms had served as the captain’s quarters, when the ship had sailed against the Coven in the service of the Directorate. The arrangements were the same aboard each Black Ship. But here on theTammerland, Tyranny had graciously given these chambers over as the Conclave’s meeting place.

The room’s large rear wall was also the ship’s stern. It was laden with opened, wood-slatted windows and intricately carved artwork. A rectangular meeting table sat in the room’s center, around which all of the other Conclave members were already seated. Patterned rugs lay atop the hardwood floor, and upholstered furniture had been strategically placed around the room. A doorway in the right-hand wall led off to a bedroom, sitting room, and washroom. Soft light was provided by oil lamp chandeliers, each swinging gently in opposite rhythm to the rocking ship.

As she walked to take her seat at the table, Shailiha was surprised to see Faegan scowl and angrily bang his fists down atop his chair arms. The princess gave Tyranny a questioning glance, but all the equally confused privateer could do was to sit down and shrug her shoulders.

“And I’m telling you that this is my fault and mine alone!” Faegan shouted at Wigg. “I can’t believe I was so stupid! We simply aren’t prepared! If they were to attack now, our entire fleet might be done for!”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Jessamay countered. “Not one of us realized it, either.”

“What’s all this ruckus about?” Shailiha shouted, quickly taking control of the meeting. “Has something happened?”

Wigg laced his long fingers on the table top. “Not yet,” he answered. “But we just realized how perilous our situation might already be. Before we explain, you must order that each ship’s sails be furled, and that the fleet come to a standstill. If we drift, we drift. It can’t be helped. We must not travel any farther east until we have devised a proper plan.”

“What are you talking about?” Tyranny demanded. “After making such good progress, why on earth would you want us todrift? That is when a warship is at her most vulnerable!”

“Not in our case,” Wigg answered cryptically.

“Please explain,” Shailiha said.

“It’s about the Necrophagians,” Faegan answered for the First Wizard. “We believe it possible that they might attack at any time. We must not move farther east until we have devised a plan to deal with them. How foolish we were not to see it before now!”

“We all understand the threat,” Shailiha said. “But surely we do not have to worry about it just yet. Everyone knows that Necrophagian territory is in the middle of the sea, a good fifteen days’ sail from either coast. With the acolytes empowering the fleet, we have made good time so far. But even I am sea dog enough to know that we couldn’t possibly have reached the ocean’s midpoint this quickly.”

“Normally we would agree,” Jessamay said. “But during Wulfgar’s second invasion attempt, things changed. In truth, we might already be in Necrophagian territory.”

Tyranny leaned forward and gave Jessamay a hard look. “How is that possible?” she asked.

“You’re forgetting something,” Wigg answered. “Something that the rest of us also neglected before we sailed. During Wulfgar’s second invasion of Eutracia, we defeated theEnseterat, but not all his servants. When last we saw the Necrophagians, they were still alive. They had followed Wulfgar to a point near the Eutracian coast, where the climactic sea battle between the Minion fleet and the Black Ships took place. If they did not return to their old territory, we might already again be in Necrophagian waters. Either way, we must quickly form a battle plan to deal with them.”

“But how did Wulfgar manage to bring the Necrophagians that far west in the first place?” Tyranny asked Wigg. “To call them into his service, he must have had some power over them. Where did that come from? Even Failee didn’t seem to control them to such an extent. I don’t remember you, Faegan, or Jessamay telling us the answer.”

“That’s because we don’t have one,” Faegan said. “At least not one that we believe we can rely on. Because of the relatively short time Wulfgar lived at the Citadel, we can only assume that all of his gifts were granted to him by way of the Vagaries Forestallments. If that is true, then the Scroll of the Vagaries must contain the needed

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