all her sacrifices would be wasted.
And her thrice-hated brother would win in the end. That, more than anything else, she simply could not bear. She would walk her chosen path to the bloody end, regardless of the cost. No price was too high to finally see her vengeance done.
And then, as if in response to her thoughts, a wall of greenish mist rolled in from the east, heralding the arrival of the Ship of Bones.
The dread vessel slid forth from the mist in complete silence-no splashing of water against its hull, no flapping of sails or creaking of rigging. In fact, the ship seemed to swallow all sound, for Nathifa could no longer hear the wind or the waves, or even the dry rasp of her hand as she rubbed Espial for whatever cold comfort the mystic object could give. The green mist reached the Zephyr and rolled across the sloop's deck, bringing with it a cold more intense than that of even the most frigid winter nights on the Lhazaar, for this was a cold that affected not the body, but the spirit.
Like all born and raised in the Principalities, Nathifa grew up hearing the legend of Prince Moren and his Ship of Bones. An evil man cursed for his misdeeds in life, Moren was doomed to sail the Lhazaar Sea with a crew of undead pirates in search of living sailors upon which to feed. As the tales would have it, on nights when two or more moons were full, the Ship of Bones silently sailed the dark waters of the night searching for any vessels unfortunate enough to cross its path. Although in this instance, Moren found the Zephyr because Nathifa had summoned him.
Nathifa had always wondered what the Ship of Bones would look like. Was it just a name to inspire fear or was the vessel truly constructed from bone instead of iron and wood? She now knew it was the latter.
The hull was made from the curving rib bones of some enormous creature-a dragon, perhaps, though one larger than any Nathifa had ever heard of. The ship's three masts were formed from massive leg bones that appeared human, save for their great size. Giant bones, Nathifa guessed, but from giants larger than any she'd ever dreamed could exist. The sails were fashioned from sewn-together patches of leathery skin, torn from the bodies of Moren's victims, she wagered, most likely while they were still alive and screaming in agony. At least, that's how she would've done it. The bones were lashed together with strips of flesh, lengths of muscle, strands of sinew, and coils of intestines. It was, in its own dark way, magnificent.
Nathifa could see none of the crew as the Ship of Bones drew alongside the Zephyr, but she knew they were there. She could sense them watching her with curiosity, wondering who this madwoman was who was suicidal enough to summon the Prince of Bones and his deathly crew.
A gangplank made from interlocking arm and hand bones was lowered over the side, and a pair of skeletal hands on the end grabbed hold of the Zephyr's railing. Nathifa waited to see if any of Moren's crew would disembark, but when none did, she knew they were waiting for her to board their ship. After all, hadn't she summoned them?
Rubbing the top of Espial's head once more for luck, Nathifa stepped up onto the skeletal ramp and began walking upward.
'How long has she been over there?' Haaken asked.
Makala peered through the porthole of the Zephyr's cabin. She could see no sign of activity aboard the Ship of Bones. It was as if the vessel was deserted, a thing possessed of its own unearthly life that plied the waters of the Lhazaar without need of a crew. But she knew Nathifa was aboard, had seen the lich embark.
'The better part of an hour, I'd say. Whatever they're talking about, they're evidently in no hurry.'
'Time doesn't mean the same thing to the dead as it does to the living,' Skarm said. Then, realizing who he was talking to, he added, 'No offense.'
Makala considered backhanding the barghest, but she restrained herself. Depending on how Nathifa's meeting with Prince Moren turned out, they might well end up having to fight for their lives. If so, she wanted Skarm uninjured and ready for battle.
Haaken sat cross-legged on the sleeping pallet, face pale, eyes haunted. 'Do you think they're… going to eat us?'
Makala turned to the lycanthropic sea raider and sneered. 'Depends on whether or not they like the taste of fish.'
Any reply Haaken might have made was cut off by a knock on the cabin hatch. Both Haaken and Skarm jumped, but Makala just looked at the hatch for a moment with a narrow-eyed gaze before starting toward it.
Haaken leaped off the pallet, rushed to Makala, and grabbed hold of her arm to stop her. 'Are you mad? If you let them in they'll devour us!'
Makala bared her fangs, hissed, and slashed Haaken's face with claw-like fingernails. Haaken released her arm and staggered backward, blood pouring from wounds that were already beginning to heal. Makala inhaled, savoring the scent of fresh blood, and it took every bit of self-control she possessed not to fall upon the man, tear out his throat, and gorge herself on his life's fluid.
'Don't be an idiot,' she snarled. 'If Prince Moren and his crew had come for us, do you really think they would bother to knock?'
Makala continued to the hatch and opened it. She stepped back as Nathifa glided into the cabin. The lich's face-normally bleached of all color-looked even whiter than usual, and the crimson fire that burned in her eyes had dimmed to the point where it seemed as if it might go out altogether.
'It's done. We have what we need to repair the ship. Begin working. I… need to rest for a bit.'
Without another word, the lich crossed over to the sleeping pallet and lay down with her back to her three servants.
Makala looked at Skarm and Haaken with a raised eyebrow before walking out of the cabin and onto the deck of the Zephyr. The Ship of Bones was gone, and there was no sign of her in any direction, even though the ghostly craft couldn't have sailed very far away in the time since Nathifa had disembarked. It was as if the ship had simply vanished. A pile of lumber lay on the deck, along with a new runner… no, it was the Zephyr's runner, recovered and returned to them. The planking was mismatched-the boards different types of wood, along with varying widths, and lengths-and the lumber was wet, covered with moss and barnacles.
'They salvaged the wood from shipwrecks,' Haaken said softly.
Makala hadn't noticed the man's approach. Skarm stood next to him, and all three of them stared at the lumber left by Prince Moren.
'What price do you think Nathifa had to pay to get that wood?' Skarm asked.
'I don't know,' Makala said. 'But I can tell you one thing: when she went aboard the Ship of Bones she had Espial with her, but she returned empty-handed.' She glanced up at the night sky to gauge the time, though she had no real need to do so since her vampiric instincts told her how long it would be until sunrise. 'We still have a few hours of darkness left to us. Let's get to work.'
As Haaken and Skarm started toward the lumber, Makala glanced back at the Zephyr's cabin.
What price indeed? she thought, and wondered how she might be able to turn this most recent development to her advantage. Then she joined the others to begin the repairs to the Zephyr.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Thokk was as good as his word, and the Turnabout reached the northeastern shore of Trebaz Sinara a bit less than two days after they'd set out. The sun had edged up over the horizon, and the sky was a bright, clear blue with barely a cloud in sight. Despite the beauty of the dawning day, the island was as forbidding as legend painted it, surrounded by treacherous reefs and enclosed by high, sheer cliff walls. Off in the distance, a flock of winged creatures circled lazily above the island. Birds, perhaps, or something else. They were too far away to tell for certain.
Captain Onu stood at the ship's rail, gazing out upon the island, eyes shining as if its cliffs were made of gold instead of stone.
'Trebaz Sinara,' he breathed. 'How I've longed to look upon its fabled shores!'
Thokk stood at the railing next to his captain. The dwarf had summoned Diran, Ghaji, and the others to the
