'That's not funny, Mel.' Bradan rested on his oars. 'You've not been the same since that battle with the Kalingos. Maybe there was something in the kanaima's curse.'
'I killed the kanaima,' Melcorka reminded him. 'I cut off her head.' She made a slicing motion with her right hand. 'Chop! Like that.'
'That's not like you, either, Mel, exulting in killing.' Bradan began to row again. 'I'll be glad to get you to land and back to normal.'
Returning to the tiller, Melcorka suddenly stood up. 'What's that ahead?' She pointed with her chin. 'The sea's changing colour. It's a browny-yellow.'
'I've never seen a sea like that before.' Bradan stared over his shoulder, resting on his oars. 'A yellow sea! Well, Mel, we travel to see new things.'
'It's not the sea that's yellow,' Melcorka said. 'There is vegetation on the surface.'
'The sea is growing plants?' Bradan shook his head. 'Truly, this world is full of marvels, unless it is only seaweed, of course.'
'I'd rather there was a breath of wind than a sea of weed.' Melcorka slumped back at the oars and pulled hard. 'Our lack of progress is terribly frustrating.'
'This is a big ocean,' Bradan said. 'We might be rowing for weeks and travel hundreds of miles and still be only a fraction of the way across.' He pointed to the sun. 'At least we are heading north and east, though. We are heading home.'
'Very slowly,' Melcorka said. 'I would give my arm for a slant of air, something to fill the sail and send us faster over the sea.'
Bradan grunted. 'The old sailor men have a method of calling the wind.'
'What was that, Bradan? What magic trick do they perform?' Melcorka grinned across to him. 'Do they sacrifice one of the crew to the sea-gods? Perhaps a long-faced, staff-carrying man?'
'Nothing as dramatic,' Bradan said. 'They stick a knife into the mast and whistle.'
'Oh?' Melcorka looked a little disappointed. 'Well then, if a knife and a whistle can call the wind, we shall try Defender.'
'No.' Bradan shook his head. 'If a knife can whistle up the wind, imagine what Defender could summon!'
Despite their apparent lack of progress, Catriona had inched closer to the browny-yellow sea. As Melcorka had said, it was a plant, but unlike any they had seen before.
'That stuff is moving toward us,' Melcorka said.
'Plants can't move.' Bradan pulled at the oars again. 'Unless the wind shifts them, and we have no wind.'
'This plant does not know it cannot move,' Melcorka said. 'It's reaching out for Catriona.'
Melcorka was correct. Even as Bradan watched, the vegetation was easing toward Catriona, with one tendril creeping up the prow and crawling along the short foredeck.
'I've never seen anything like that before,' Bradan said.
'Nor have I.' Stepping over Bradan, Melcorka unsheathed the dirk from underneath her arm and sliced at the stem of the plant. 'It's tough,' she called. 'Look at that!' The plant had begun to crawl up her arm. 'It's also fast!' She cut harder, lifted a length of the growth and threw it over the side.
'It's at the stern, too.' Bradan hit out with an oar. 'It's grabbing at my oars.'
'It's everywhere,' Melcorka said. 'It's all around us.'
'Time to get out of this patch of sea.' Bradan pulled hard at the oars, only to swear as the weed wrapped itself around the blades. 'Get away!' He hauled one oar free, just as more tendrils of the brown-yellow plant crawled on board.
'Enough of this!' Melcorka replaced her dirk, drew Defender and sliced at the ever-increasing number of plants that climbed onto Catriona. As fast as she hacked, more of the browny-yellow growth arrived.
'Bradan!' Melcorka threw him her dirk. 'Cut us free!'
Even with two of them hacking as fast as they could, the plants continued to advance, crawling up the hull and sending long, yellow-brown tendrils towards Bradan and Melcorka.
'What were you saying about Defender calling up the wind?' Melcorka asked. 'It seems like a good idea.'
Bradan sawed through a plant that began to explore his ankle. 'Be careful, Mel!' He held up a hand as Melcorka rammed Defender into Catriona's single pine mast. 'A weapon like that might summon more than we can handle!'
'Nonsense!' Melcorka said. 'We can't handle these plants. Anyway, it's only superstition and the more wind we have, the better! Give me my dirk!' She chopped at a tendril that was curling around the mast. 'It's not working. Is there anything else I have to do?'
'Whistle!' Bradan said, as the air remained still and the growth spread across Catriona. 'Whistle as though your soul depended on it.'
'Whistle?' Melcorka sliced through a plant that was coiling up her leg. 'I can't whistle.'
'Try!' Bradan tried to rip at a stem that curled around the tiller. 'These things are worse than the Kalinga.'
For a second, Melcorka looked over the side of Catriona into the yellow-brown mass that seethed across the sea around them. A ship-length to starboard, she saw the vegetation form the likeness of a human face, and the poisonous eyes of Kanaima were watching her.
'You're dead!' Melcorka said, so quietly that Bradan could not hear. Pursing her lips, she whistled as loudly as she could.
Bradan cringed. 'You may be the greatest warrior in the world, Mel, but you cannot hold a tune in your head, can you? That's a terrible noise you are making.'
'Then join me, Bradan! Make sweet music to call the wind.' Melcorka looked again, but Kanaima's face was gone. All she could see was plant-life covering the ocean and gradually smothering Catriona.
Bradan increased the volume of his whistling. He doubted it would help, but anything was better than not trying at all. The yellow-tinged sea stretched forever in all directions except upward, where the brassy sun powered down on them. Unless they found land soon, the plants would overcome them, or they would die of thirst in this pulsating yellow-brown expanse. Pushing out his lips, Bradan blew tunelessly.
'That's worse than me,' Melcorka said. 'It's like an old
