Nightchild

'Tell him that, he's driving,' said Hirad. 'Have you two got enough weapons? This could be a good night for knives, I think.'

'We're sorted out. Ready?'

'Of course not.'

Ilkar clapped him on the back. 'Then let's go.'

Hirad readied himself. Denser stood with his legs apart enough for Hirad to put his head through them and hang on to both his calves. 'I can't believe I'm doing this,' he muttered.

The hail came down harder. He heard a shout from Denser and a heartbeat later he was airborne and yelling his fear into the teeth of a gale.

'So kill me then!' roared the skipper. 'Kill any one you like. Because if we raise any more sail we'll all die anyway.' He shoved Selik away

from him, the Black Wing steadying himself quickly and coming back, dagger still drawn.

'And what the hell good is that handkerchief you've got fluttering up there going to do for us, eh?' He renewed his grip on the skipper's throat, three of his men in attendance should the elf try to fight him.

The fury of the storm had taken them all by surprise, boiling up from the south under cloud so low they felt they could almost touch it. The skipper had called all hands to the deck and they'd swarmed up the rigging to furl sail as waves crashed across his deck, hurling two Black Wings and a member of bis crew into the water to drown in the merciless ocean. Another of his crew had fallen from the rigging and he too would die, his body broken.

But Selik had stormed up to the wheel deck, demanding he go faster. Faster? They were lucky to be still afloat at all.

'I'll tell you what it'll do, you ignorant fool,' spat the skipper. 'It'll give us just enough manoeuvrability to keep our head to the wind so we can survive this thing. I take it you do want to survive?'

'Your tone will get you very badly hurt.'

The Captain grabbed Selik's hand and dragged the dagger towards his own throat.

'Then do it now, Black Wing, because I am past caring.'

Selik stared at him, jerked his hand away and backed off a pace, letting go the skipper's throat. He nodded.

'And what about them behind us?' he demanded, pointing over the skipper's shoulder into the filthy night.

'If their captain has any sense, he'll be doing exacdy what I'm doing,' said the skipper. 'They won't catch us, Selik, more's the pity. And even should they, what can they achieve? They can't get through Ornouth in a ship that large.' The skipper was telling the absolute truth. The draft of the ship they'd glimpsed was far too deep to ride the reefs into Herendeneth. Fortunately, a ship that large also had single-masted landing skiffs to offload cargo from deep water. Something Selik was probably unaware of. If Ren was aboard, she'd know when to advise dropping anchor. And he'd sign her any way he could.

'Unfortunately for the civilised world,' said the skipper, T know what I'm doing.'

Selik huffed. A contemptuous sound. 'Civilised, Yet you embrace the evil of magic. Elves. Little better than animals in your homy continent, I've heard.'

'Go away, Selik, and let me do my job or you'll be drinking sea water.'

'I will have you, elf,' said Selik as he turned and gestured his men away. 'Yours is a life borrowing heavily from the death.'

The skipper said nothing as Selik left the deck but his mind was ablaze with revenge. He allowed himself a small inward smile. The Black Wing fools had demanded light on deck as soon as night fell so they might walk in greater safety on the pitching deck. The ship would be visible for miles once the rain abated.

'Come on, Ren. Come on.'

The journey to the Ocean Elm was pure torture for Hirad. Clinging on to Denser's legs while the hail lashed into his face and drained his strength, the barbarian could see practically nothing ahead of him. Every now and again, Ilkar would flash into view but apart from that, all he knew was that when he could see the waves and feel the spray on his legs, Denser was too low.

They were heading in the right direction, that much he did know. Ilkar had sighted the ship soon after leaving the deck of the Calaian Sun and hovered in close to tell Denser. But how far away they were, he couldn't begin to guess and, as the wind and rain began to chill him, sending aches through his arms and inexorably numbing his fingers even through his gloves, it was close to being too far.

A sudden gust drove them downwards hard and fast, Hirad yelling as his boots sldmmed the top of a wave. Denser jerked back up quickly, too quickly for Hirad's cold hands and his grip was torn away and he swung like a human pendulum from the mage's left ankle, a couple of feet of rope all that separated him from drowning.

The sudden shift of weight unbalanced Denser completely and he plunged seawards, Hirad looking up to see him fighting for height and direction even as he was plunged into the sea. The cold flashed through his body and he gasped in shock. Water washed over his head and Denser, under the heavy drag, was all but catapulted into the wave in front of him, veering up and away at the last heartbeat, hauling the drenched Hirad with him.

The barbarian looked up again. Denser was shouting something but he couldn't hear it. The cold ate at him. They lurched sicken-ingly as Hirad swung back and forth, he trying to climb the rope that must be causing Denser agony, and the mage wrestling with his balance as he fought to keep them both from the ocean.

Hirad tried to swing his right arm round but couldn't get any momentum. The rope was cutting into his wrist and he grabbed on to it with his fingers, trying to relieve the pressure, praying now that they'd reach the Elm before Denser's boot came off. He tried again to get his other hand round but again fell short as the wind buffeted and blew him in dizzying circles. He felt sick now, the cold muddying his mind, the hail and seawater blinding him, the blood running down his arm from the rope-torn skin of his wrist.

With a thumping of air, Ilkar flew to catch him, driving upwards in one movement and hovering until Hirad found his grip again.

'Thanks,' gasped Hirad. 'Thank you.'

'We're almost there.' And then he was gone.

They changed direction, flying low over the waves and coming up to the rear of the vessel. There were no lights here as there were along its flanks and, confident that no elf who saw them would betray them, they flew in very close, below the level of the deck.

Here, despite the pitching of the ship, there was blessed relief from the storm and Hirad's pounding heart started to calm. Denser took them slowly upwards, Hirad bringing his knees up to his chest to clear the rail. Once down, he lay flat to allow Denser to land and heard the light step of Ilkar come by his head. His hands were too numb to untie the rope. Happily, Ilkar's weren't and, with it off his wrist, he could refasten it around his waist for later and survey the damage to his arm.

'That's going to hurt later,' he said. 'Your ankle all right, Denser?'

'It'll last,' whispered Denser. 'What's next?'

'We listen,' said Hirad.

They listened to the shrieking of the wind, the odd word that came to them on the gale and the protesting of the ship's timbers. It told them nothing of who was on deck, or how many, but after their silence it was at least obvious that there were no patrols. At least, not to the stern.

'If this is anything like the Sun, we'll have to get in through the aft doors,' said Denser.

'Very risky,' said Ilkar.

'Well, besides blowing a hole in the wood about here, I reckon that's our only choice,' said Denser.

'And we have to exit that way anyhow,' said Hirad. 'Or you won't be able to deploy wings unless you can cast underwater.'

'Then let's not waste any more time,' said Ukar.

Hirad nodded and drew two daggers, one for his right hand, one to be gripped in his teeth, leaving his long sword in its scabbard on his back. With Ukar and then Denser in his wake, he edged down the port rail towards the main deck, keeping low, the pitching of the ship a constant threat. The wood beneath his feet was slick with water and the hail was turning to rain, mixed in with spray from the sea. His hands were cold, the ache in his left wrist growing as he gripped the rail.

Flattening himself along the wall behind him, he moved on slowly, letting more and more of the deck reveal