Spirit of the Wind

waist. “I’m sorry.” he said, and kissed the nape of her neck. “I just miss having solid ground beneath my feet.”

“So do I,” Brightdawn agreed. “At least we’re not seasick, though, like Father is.” She nodded toward the stern of the ship, where Riverwind and Kael were talking together. The Plainsman was stooped and ashen-faced. He had been feeling ill since the second day of their voyage but had refused when the captain advised him to go below and lie down. Instead, though each sway of the deck brought a spasm of nausea to his face, Riverwind bore it out.

The deck shifted again, and again Brightdawn stumbled, knocking Swiftraven against the railing.

“Damn it,” the young warrior grunted irritably.

“Watch yourself there,” said a voice at their elbows.

The Plainsfolk looked down. Catt had come up, and was watching them seriously. She stood still, apparently unaffected by the pitching of the boat. Swiftraven scowled as he fought to regain his footing.

“Keep that up,” the kender observed, “and you’ll see the water much closer than you’d like.” She grinned, not unkindly. “I can tell you what you’re doing wrong, if you want.”

“We don’t need-” Swiftraven started to say.

Brightdawn dug her elbow into his stomach. “We’d like that very much,” she interrupted. She shot Swiftraven a look, and the young warrior rolled his eyes.

For a moment, Catt regarded Swiftraven, then she shrugged. “Well,” she said, “your big problem is you’re locking your knees. You’ll never get your sea legs that way. Watch Captain Ar-Tam.” She gestured down the deck. Kael was striding forward now, barking orders to his men. The sailors scrambled to obey. “See how he walks, like he’s bowlegged? That’s not just because the food on this tub’s so bad, you know. A sailor’s got to roll with the waves, not fight them like you’re doing, or he’ll spend as much time on his back as on his feet. Here-like this.” She demonstrated, shifting her weight as the deck rocked. “There. Now you try.”

Brightdawn followed Catt’s example, bending her knees and planting her feet apart. “How do you know so much about ships?” she asked.

“Oh, I served aboard a merchant ship for a few years when I was younger,” the kender answered. “Watch, now. Here it comes.”

When the ship pitched again Brightdawn still stumbled, but not as badly, and on the next sway she didn’t lose her balance at all. She grinned at the kender.

“That’s it!” Catt said, immensely pleased. “You’re getting it.”

Suddenly Brinestrider skipped over a series of low, choppy waves. Following the kender’s lead, Brightdawn rode them out. Swiftraven, however, finally lost his balance and fell on his rear. His face turned bright red as sailors all over the ship laughed and pointed.

Catt offered her hand. “Get up,” she said. “Try again-”

“Get away from me!” he snapped, his face twisting into a snarl. Catt pulled her hand back as if he’d stung her. With some difficulty, he pushed himself to his feet. “The only way you can help, kender, is to stay away from me.”

“Swiftraven!” Brightdawn exclaimed, reaching for his arm. He jerked away from her grasp and stomped down the deck, toward the stern.

Catt watched him go. “Grumpy sort of fellow.”

“He’s just proud,” Brightdawn replied.

Catt continued to frown at Swiftraven’s back as the young Plainsman stumbled toward Riverwind and Kael. “I don’t think he shares your father’s approval of kender.”

Brightdawn chewed her lip. “He doesn’t think we should be helping you. He wouldn’t say that in front of Father, of course,” she added quickly, “but he thinks it’s foolish to go to Kendermore.”

“What about you?”

“Me?” Brightdawn asked, startled. “I–I don’t-”

“That’s okay,” Cart cut in. “Many of our people thought it was foolish of Paxina to ask the help of humans. ‘Humans make a mess of everything,’ they said. Lucky thing we found someone like your father.”

Suddenly curses sounded above them-oaths so vile, only a sailor could utter them. Brightdawn followed Cart’s glance up the mainmast. Kronn had climbed high into the rigging and somehow gotten himself and the ship’s dwarven first mate snarled among the ropes. The dwarf was swearing at the top of his scratchy voice as he tried to untangle himself.

“Not again!” snapped Captain Ar-Tam, storming up the deck. “Get down from there, you little squeaker, or I swear I’ll cut your-”

“It’s all right, Captain,” Catt said. “I’ll get my brother down.” She scrambled nimbly up the rigging and quickly worked both her brother and the mate loose. The dwarf made a wild grab for Kronn, who jumped out of the way, leaping from one rope to another with glee, apparently unconcerned that he was thirty feet above the deck of a rocking boat. “Kronn!” Catt snapped. “Stop with this game!”

“Oh, we’ve got games he can play,” the red-faced dwarf growled as Kronn and Catt descended the ropes. “There’s keelhaul-the-kender, for one. And catch-the-anchor-and guess who gets to go first.”

“Who?” Kronn asked.

The dwarf made a rude gesture.

At length, the two kender made their way back to the deck. As soon as they were both down, Catt cuffed Kronn on the back of his head.

“Ow!” he exclaimed. “What did you do that for?”

“Listen to me, Kronn,” Catt said. “You’ve got to stay out of trouble. Captain Ar-Tam is tempted to throw you to the sharks.”

Kronn’s eyebrows shot up excitedly. “Sharks? In these waters?”

Catt nodded gravely. “Bull sharks, to be exact. Big enough to swallow you whole-if you’re lucky.”

“I’d love to catch a glimpse of one,” Kronn said, his brow furrowed with thought. “Father told me once that Uncle Trapspringer got attacked by sharks, you know. Or maybe it was a giant squid. Anyway, it happened when he was on his way back home after winning the minotaurs’ arena tourney on Kothas.”

Catt raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Attacked by sharks?”

“Or a giant squid, I said,” Kronn noted. “Anyway, he couldn’t use his hoopak underwater, but fortunately he had a brainstorm…

“Let’s go talk to Father,” Brightdawn interjected. “He’ll be wanting to plan our route after we reach Ak- Thain.”

Kronn gave his sister a look.

She nodded. “Let’s.”

“Great!” Kronn exclaimed. “Come on. I’ve been looking for a chance to show off my maps.”

He ran off toward the stern, where Riverwind stood with Kael and Swiftraven. Catt watched him go, then looked up at Brightdawn, her mouth crooking into a wry half-grin. “Boys,” she said.

Laughing, Brightdawn started aft with the kender to join the others. The boat rolled under their feet as they walked, but no longer did she notice.

“Oh, no,” Swiftraven groaned softly.

Riverwind had been looking back over the rail, at Brinestrider’s foam-speckled wake, which stretched out behind them toward the sea-gray horizon. Abruptly he straightened and turned, following the young warrior’s gaze. He frowned when his eyes fell upon Kronn, who was walking cheerily toward them. Glancing at Swiftraven, he saw the young man’s lip curl. Riverwind’s brow furrowed. “Is something wrong, boy?” he asked.

Swiftraven started, then quickly shook his head, his cheeks burning red. “No, my chief.”

It was a lie, and Riverwind knew it, but he let it pass. Swiftraven was uncomfortable around the kender, but now wasn’t the time to confront him about it. He watched Kronn approach, Catt and Brightdawn coming up behind him.

“Kronn’s come back here to help you, Riverwind. Haven’t you, Kronn?” said Catt.

Kronn beamed at the old Plainsman. “That’s right,” he declared. “I’ve come to show you my maps. It’s a long way to Kendermore, even after we reach Ak-Thain.”

“Kendermore?” Captain Ar-Tam asked, incredulous. “You’re going there? What in Habbakuk’s name for?”