Date: Sat, 23 Feb 2013 01:14:55 +0000
From: Michael Offutt <kavrik@hotmail.com>
Subject: Chapter 20 of The Assassin's Apprentice - gay science fiction

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      "The Assassin's Apprentice" is told in first person present tense and
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                                    Chapter 20

      "Wait," I say, shaking my head. It's one thing to be pursued by
pirates, which are (let's face it) just wet versions of me. But Ardis
mentioned another word there too. "Did you say gold?"

      Angelaria never said anything to me about gold. Given that I gave
most of my wealth away to get us on this boat ride, I'm eager to replenish
my money purse. After all, I want to give Talen nice things and money seems
like the prerequisite for such affections.

      "The mountains of Meron are filled with veins of gold," Ardis
explains.

      "Mountains?" I echo, voice trailing off because just the thought of
it is making my mouth dry. Or maybe that's the tongue ring. At this point,
I don't care.

      "The jungle giants use their slaves to mine the gold, giving tribute
to their god. Many a thief has made it away from their lands with a king's
ransom only to have it taken from him by pirates at sea. We're only a few
days from the coast. It wouldn't surprise me if we're mistaken for such a
ship."

      "What exactly are the jungle giants?" I ask.

      Ardis stands up (we are about the same size although I may be taller
by an inch at just slightly over six feet). "They stand twice a man's
height and are tremendously strong.  I saw one knock down a tree just to
get at the man hiding inside.  Their weapon is called a cadel and in the
southern tongue means literally 'bison cleaver.'

      Cadel again, eh? I suddenly remember the axe that Logren hefted the
first time I'd seen him materialize out of the mist on the outskirts of
Ladika.

      "It's an axe with a blade as wide as a man is tall, double ended with
an oaken shaft as thick as your thigh," Ardis finishes. I think to
myself...uh yeah? I've seen one before..., but I don't say that.

      I do widen my eyes with respect to one thing he says though. "People
steal from these giants? Are they that thick?"

      "The good ones do," Ardis says. "The bad ones steal from no one."

      Talen rolls over blinking in the dark. His hair looks like he's
combed it with firecrackers, and I just want to kiss him because he looks
so cute. "Do you two have to be so loud?"

      "Sleep downstairs," I tell him, rather offhandedly.

      "It smells downstairs," he replies.

      I shrug but don't argue with him. It DOES stink downstairs.

      I don't seem to mind the smell as much as he does, however, I can get
used to damn near anything. His words are a reminder for me to bathe and
shave. I reach up and scratch the stubble on my face. After my shift, I get
a bucket of fresh water and a bar of soap and wash myself. When I'm done,
Talen gives me a shave with a straight razor. Then he goes off with my
bucket to wash up too.  I'm half-tempted to spy on him, but I don't want
this crew to know we're two boys that enjoy each other's company. It might
put the wrong idea in some of their heads. Nearly all of the crew are what
I call "unfuckable." They're so ugly it'd make a Billy goat puke. But if
it's one thing with yokels: if they find out you like A GUY then many
assume it means ALL GUYS.

      And this simply isn't true.

      By mid-afternoon of the next day, the others notice the strange ship
on the horizon, and a constant watch is posted.  When it draws closer,
Captain Ja-Mir paces the deck watching it from the aft part of the
ship. Finally, he emerges from his cabin and orders me to climb to the
crow's nest.  He also hands me a spyglass.

      I climb the rope to the top of the mast and settle in for the
night. The view's dizzying. I clean off the lenses with a bit of cloth and
hold the spyglass to my eye. The ship pursuing us zooms in much clearer.  I
can see it's a galleon, and that it isn't flying a standard of any
kind. That's the strange part. And the crew's heavily armed, because I
catch the gleam of sunlight from the edges of multiple weapons. To make
matters worse, the hull of the ship has multiple wooden windows behind
which I'm sure can be found cannons.

      That last part sends shivers down my back. My dad told me once that
he saw a guy's head explode from a cannon ball: a single shot to the head.

      I slide down the rope and tell Ja-Mir what I've seen.

      "We should be able to outrun them!" he declares to a very anxious
crew. "Full sail!"

      We all respond as if he's cracked a very large whip over our heads,
but part of me wonders why we weren't already under full sail. Maybe he's
trying to extend his time with Angelaria just a wee bit longer.

      Fucking asshole.

      If he tries to stick his dick in her I swear I'll castrate him if
it's the last thing I do.

      Despite our efforts over the next few hours, the ship draws closer.

      "I don't understand it," Ja-Mir swears. He clenches his fists until
the white of knuckle shows clear against his tan skin. "We're at full sail
and have to be lighter than she, especially if she's carrying cannons."

      "It's the workin' of the devil," Gunnar, the first mate, says. I'd
take more stock in Gunnar's opinion if he didn't say everything was the
"work of the devil." Someone could say, "Kian sure has a big dick," and
he'd say it was the "work of the devil." Hell...maybe it is...that would
explain a few things.

      However, I suspect that the ship yapping at our heels is being driven
by something explainable with non-devilish stuff. Like maybe magic's
involved.

      I rub my tongue ring against the roof of my mouth and go looking for
Angelaria (shirtless of course). Why waste a good tan, especially on a
young torso as lean as mine.

      I walk up to the captain's cabin and knock on the door. A moment
later, I hear a "come in."  I turn the knob and step inside, making certain
to miss Verrr, which is on its way out the door.

      She turns, looking on me with the eyes of someone who knows too much
about someone else.  Behind her is a large window which gives a splendid
view of the sea, and she's reading from a book.

      I lean against a pillar, trousers barely covering the top of my blond
pubes and ask, "Is that ship following us using magic?"

      She shrugs her shoulders. "I don't know. I haven't checked."

      She turns and looks out the window, studying the galleon, which is
close enough to make out details without the aid of a spyglass.  "Stand by
the door," she commands.  "Don't let anyone in while I check.  Sailors
don't like witches."

      I sigh because my ego's taken yet another blow. She didn't even
blink. Seriously? Talen's jaw would have been on the floor and my dick in
his mouth already.

      Somewhat reluctantly, I do as I'm told and put my weight against the
door to discourage anyone that may casually try entering without knocking.

      Angelaria walks over to her pack and reaches inside, removing a small
bag that has something moving around in it.  She unties the strings and
pulls out a small green creature which she promptly squeezes with her
hands.

      "It's a codgit," she explains, as if I'm supposed to know what that
is.

      She throws it on the ground where it proceeds to bow and scrape,
calling her mistress.

      "Obey me," she commands.

      "Yesss, missstresss," the codgit says.

      "Show me the ship."

      The small creature urinates on the floor, forming a pool about two
feet across. All I can do is stare in wide-eyed amusement. Electrical arcs
pass from one side of the pool to the other and vice versa.  Just before
the light show ends, an image forms.

      "They've got a wizard with them," she states. "He's a third-school
wizard, hardly worth trifling with. He's cast a spell making the distance
between our two ships overlap, thereby increasing the distance that we've
to travel by twice over. It's quite clever really--I hadn't really seen a
practical use to that spell."

      "Can you kill him?"

      She shakes her head.  "Is that all you think about? I swear, Kian. I
know you're an assassin, but sometimes you come across as an uncouth
barbarian." She pauses. "Did you lose your shirt at poker?"

      Did I lose my shirt at poker? "I'm not even going to gratify that
question with an answer.  But if I were to even play poker, I'd win. And
you like seeing me like this. Admit it."

      "I'll admit nothing," she says. "But your body does have a pleasing
shape, when Talen isn't trying to keep it all to himself."

      I snicker.  "So, can you?" I ask. "Stop avoiding the question."

      "Maybe," she says, playing coy. "He's protecting himself. For me to
kill him I'd have to do something flashy. It could work but they'll kick
you off the ship.  Me..., well, they'd probably drown me or something like
that. Like I said, sailors are a superstitious lot, and they don't like
witches."

      I hear footsteps approaching on the other side of the door.

      Angelaria makes a grab for the codgit, which ducks under her fingers
and runs under the desk.  The puddle vanishes.

      "Come here," she commands.

      The little thing shakes its head.

      Behind me, someone knocks on the door.

      "Shall I answer it, your worshipfulness?" I whisper.

      "Just a minute," Angelaria says, glaring at me.  She falls down on
her knees and reaches under the table.  Finally, she grabs a hold of the
little green guy and stuffs him away in her purse. "I should never have
made this one...he's been unruly for months.  It gets so tiresome."

      "That used to be a person," I say, incredulity flooding my voice.

      "Of course it used to be a person. What--did you think I just spun
these things out of thin air?"

      I shrug my shoulders helplessly. After all, I've no idea how magic
works.

      "You can open the door now," she states.

      I move out of the way. Ja-Mir steps inside, eyeing the both of
us. "Am I disturbing anything?" He has a disapproving look on his face at
the sight of me shirtless. I flex and trail one hand down my belly to
scratch at the bulge of my crotch; he looks away.

      "Not at all," Angelaria says. "Have you seen my cat?"

      Ja-Mir smiles, eyeing me with cold suspicion. "As a matter of fact, I
have.  She's outside playing with a bit of string." He turns as if
expecting me to leave. When I don't, he just sets his jaw and turns away,
obviously not wishing to order me to get out. "We're being pursued by a
pirate ship," he tells Angelaria. "When it pulls alongside this one, I want
you to stay here, in my cabin.  You should be safe but lock the door, just
in case."

      "I'm a big girl," she says. "I can take care of myself."

      "I'm sure you can," he agrees. "But nevertheless, I'm experienced in
these matters.  It'll be better off if we don't have any girls on deck."

      Angelaria manages a pouty look. "If you think it's best..." she
mumbles.

      He reaches over the table and lifts her chin with his hand.  "I do,"
he says softly.

      He turns, winks at me, and leaves the room.

      "What was that little exchange?" I ask her.

      "What was what little exchange?"

      I fold my arms.  "You two act as though you'd...well...done something
more serious.  You practically THREW yourself at him."

      "I did not."

      I swallow hard, not speaking.

      "You're jealous. Unbelievable. You've got a beautiful boyfriend, and
you're jealous of the attention I'm getting. What's the matter? You wish
Ja-Mir would bend you over and fuck you?"

      "Shut up," I say. "And I'm not jealous, and the Prince does nothing
for me."

      "Are too. If I let him kiss me and feel my tits, I bet that'd make
you real mad. Admit it...you're jealous."

      "I'm not."

      She laughs and then picks herself up and crosses the room to stand in
front of me.  She touches her hands to my face and kisses me. "Relax," she
says, "I'm sorry if I got you all steamed up."  She smooths my hair
back. "He hasn't even kissed me, though I think he wants to."

      I put my arms around her, sniffing her hair. She buries her face in
my chest, and I feel her fingers rake over my muscles.

      It's late afternoon.

      When the ship closes within two hundred yards, the pirates open fire
on our stern.  Ja-Mir orders the masts tied down and the other ship,
speeding along, almost rams us as they try and slow their speed.  Their
crew throws ropes and grappling hooks across the distance between our two
boats while the cannoneers reload their weapons.  I'm one of the first ones
to cross to the other ship, swinging across the gulf between the two
galleons on a rope hanging from the foremost mast.

      I land on the forecastle next to a man that outweighs me by about a
hundred pounds.  He takes a swing at me, and I duck his blow kicking upward
with the back of my foot; striking him on the forehead.  I look around for
a weapon and spot a fishing awl. It's better than nothing, and I take a
backward swing and plant it firmly in his skull.

      My next opponent arrives with a crash.  I kick his feet out from
under him and catch his falling head between my arms.  I grip him hard and
swing around as Constantine taught me to do, breaking his spine.

      During the fight, I try to keep my eye on Talen. I glimpse him
flickering amongst the shapes engaged on all sides in the smoky haze
resulting from cannon fire.  A loud boom signals another discharge, and the
air pours thick with the smell of sulfur.

      A shape to my right descends upon me, and I move the man I'd just
paralyzed out front, employing his bulk as a body shield. A blade sinks
into his flesh. I get up, watching the pirate trying to retrieve his
weapon.

      I kick him in the face twice, sending out a shower of blood and
caving in his skull. It's kind of funny to leave a boot print roughly the
size of my foot from brow ridge to chin. You just don't see that every day.

      I search the smoke for my boyfriend and spot him killing two men at
the bottom of the stairs. We sign to each other and move on with our
killing spree.

      I withdraw my katana and leap onto the deck using a front flip. I
land in a crouch. One of my comrades is killed by a swinging flail, and I
feel something soft and bloody strike my cheek. I watch with amazement as
this same chap kills two others from my crew, first avoiding a swing, and
then rocking back on his heels, blind-siding them with deadly force. It's
clear he's been professionally trained.

      I watch his dizzying motion for a moment, defending myself against
blows from the right side. The wind whistles, and I immediately fall back;
an axe smashes into the deck boards an inch in front of my toes. I glance
up at a face filled with chagrin. My opponent is a towering fellow that now
considers me with caution.  He tugs at the axe, but thankfully, it doesn't
wobble loose.  Swearing, he pulls a dagger from inside his tunic.

      "Nice move," I tell him. "If I'd been a floor board, you'd have
killed me." I step out from the shadows, pointing my katana low.

      Behind him, the giant chap with the flail rises up holding Ardis by
the throat.  He slams him down on the deck, knocking blood out of Ardis'
mouth.

      "Do you even know how to use that thing?" my opponent asks.

      I arch my eyebrows. "Of course."

      He makes a few evaluative slashes in my direction. One of these does
graze me. I see the bright blood run down my arm and fall from my wrist in
large droplets.  At least he isn't using poison.

      He slices at the air before him, smelling my blood.  On the second
one of these, I grip his wrist with my hand. He's a sturdy fellow, but I'm
stronger and quicker.  I whirl on my heels and plant the butt end of the
katana against his face.  "It's all a matter of style," I say to him,
watching him bleed from the nose.

      He stumbles at me and when he misses, he flings himself toward his
axe; the weight of his body knocks it loose. I tumble forward and land on
his shoulders, smacking his body against the deck.  The first thing I do is
step on the axe handle.  Still, he grips it with his hand and (white-
knuckled) hauls it out from under me.

      Then he presses his back against the wall and swings at my knees. I
jump over his blow. As if adding insult to injury, all he ends up doing is
burying his blade in the side of the ship.  He utters a string of
profanities and reaches out with his hands to grab at my ankles.

      I strike swiftly with the katana, cutting his hands off at the
wrists.

      I turn the blade slightly and swing again, knocking his other arm off
at the shoulder.  Blood flows sticky and bright onto the planks at my feet.

      He howls in pain and meets my gaze. I can see fear there.  His whole
body trembles with shock and loss of blood.  I spit at his feet and
decapitate him.  Not really knowing why, I pick up his head and hold it out
in front of me. To my wonder he's still alive! His mouth opens and his eyes
blink. I hold my grisly trophy at arm's length and laugh.

      Then I toss it into a barrel next to his prone body.

      "Help me," Ardis yells.

      I walk into the haze and see the flail-wielding pirate holding my
comrade by the neck. Ardis is bleeding so much that I know he's dead
already. Mercifully, the pirate snaps Ardis' neck with his hands and drops
him, re-adjusting his flail in almost the same motion.

      Now that I'm closer, I discover that this towering monster isn't a
man.  Rather, he's a near relative. Pointed teeth jut out from an overly
large mouth.  His skin's almost black and a large, flat nose squats the
very center of his face. More disturbing, his hand is comprised of six long
fingers that end in claws that look to be made of glass.

      I gulp in awe, withdrawing a few steps.

      This creature rises to its full height and tosses Ardis's body at
me. I move aside of course.  A loud crash fills my ears, and I turn to see
an empty spot on the deck next to the rail where three barrels had stood
before.

      "Wow," I mutter to myself. Why's everything that wants to kill me
always stronger than me?

      The monster growls but does not indulge me with an answer. Instead,
he dives at me with his swinging flail. I'm fast, but not quick enough. He
misses me with his weapon when I feel something tight about my neck. I open
my eyes which are already starting to burn.  I see the deck and the
barrels.  People are swinging over from my ship and there's a lot of dead
floating in the water.  I grip the hand that's got me by the neck. To my
dismay, I can barely touch my fingers together because his wrist is so
huge!

      "Talen!" I managed to choke out his name while fighting for air.

      The giant hurls me at the deck.  Just like Ardis, I slam into the
planks, bouncing. Then, Talen rushes past me. He sidles up with a long
knife and hamstrings the monster. The creature lets loose with a
pain-filled bellow and manages to catch Talen on a backward bitch slap.
But the damage has already been done.

      I look around for my katana. Hopping to my feet, I avoid the deadly
iron flail as it comes crashing down where my head was only a second
before.  Surprisingly, I almost trip over the hilt of my sword. I fetch it,
rolling out from yet another blow that sends splinters exploding into the
air.

      Talen kicks the giant in the back. Blood's running down the left side
of his face, and he has a nasty bruise growing amidst his ribs. Rage fills
my eyes at the sight of what's been done to my lover, and a desperation
rises within me. As the creature turns away, I make my move.

      "Get him, Kian!" Talen yells out.

      I jump onto one of the barrels and launch my right foot at his
back. On the point of impact, I swing my katana at his exposed throat. I
land next to Talen as the monster drops to his knees. His weapon crashes to
the deck, and he clutches at his bloody neck. I kick him three or four
times in the face before he keels to one side. Finally, Talen pulls me off
of him.

      "He's dead, Kian!" he shouts at me. "He's dead!"

      Somewhere, lost in the smoke, I hear a loud burst, followed by a
sizzle, and phantom steel jaws appear, outlined with gums and teeth and a
slight golden sparkle.

      "The wizard," I say without even seeing him.

      Talen stumbles forward, and I see him clutch his stomach. Angry welts
rise over his ribs and his abdomen. I pull him down against the wall and
hover over him protectively, cradling his svelte body in my strong arms.

      "It's nothing," he says. A cursory inspection turns up a few broken
bones though.

      Both Talen and I hear another whistling noise.  I turn in time to see
four pairs of disembodied teeth and sinew lunge at the bald man Talen and I
had seen our first day on the ship.

      "I never liked that fellow," Talen says. "At least he's getting his
comeuppance."

      The teeth tear out coin-sized chunks, swarming around the man like
wrathful bees. Twice, he screams in horror, and I see chunks of flesh fly
about the deck giving everything a fresh coat of red (as if things weren't
hideous enough as they stood).

      "Have you caught your breath," I ask him.

      Talen nods not willing to succumb to the pain.

      I plant a tender kiss on his lips, and when we part, I whisper,
"Don't do anything rash. I need you in my life."

      We race up the deck following the rail to where a figure stands in
unimpressive brown leather pants and a muslin tunic, arms outstretched.  On
his left and right, two men lay dead, their chests smoking with black fire.

      Talen creeps over the side of the boat, holding onto the rail and
making his way with caution. I pull loose two of my throwing daggers and
hurl one through the crowd before me. I watch approvingly as it sinks into
the man's throat. He grabs at it with his hand, trying to pull it free.  I
throw a second and a third, nailing him in the left hand and in his
forearm.

      The jaws erupt from their macabre dance and descend on me.

      Talen leaps over the edge and surprises the magus, shoving him into
their path.

      I hear him scream as he intercepts the many flying teeth.

      Shrieking, the wizard stumbles over the deck, carrying his deadly
spell with him into the bloody ocean.

      Just like that, the battle's over, but the carnage has only just
begun.

      "Shark!," the first mate calls out.

      I can see them outlined in the water. We swiftly condemn the rest of
the pirate crew that seeks to surrender to us to the drowning sea. As per
the captain's orders, we make them walk the plank one at a time, so that
they can watch each other being torn to pieces.

      I'm stunned at how large these fish really are. The ocean comes alive
with bloody foam in the midst of their feeding frenzy. It's one of those
things that's sickening to watch but you can't avert your eyes. A part of
me relishes the butchery; I wonder if anyone else feels the same way.

      I force myself to walk away from the rail.  I travel the deck looking
at the wounded.  We lost nine men, which leaves us grossly undermanned.
I'm appalled at some of the living casualties.  Take for example the youth
who'd been getting a tattoo on our first day.  Well his name, I discover,
is Leif.  He's been stabbed so many times in the leg that they're planning
to amputate. I step over to him, and he watches me in brave silence. I've
no words to console him; mutilation is a horrible thing. Perhaps this is my
true cowardice: the fact that somehow I turn my back on Leif thinking I'm
glad it's him and not me, and I withdraw to the captain's cabin.

      Inside I find Talen with bandages around his chest. He's drinking his
health with Captain Ja- Mir and probably to take the sting away from his
injuries which seem miniscule compared to some.

      "Shouldn't you be resting?" I ask him.

      Talen winks at me. "It's purely medicinal, buddy," he says. He slurs
some of his words.

      Angelaria shrugs her shoulders.  "Don't look at me.  It was his
idea."

      I lock eyes with the captain who drops his mug. "Don't blame me
there," he says, holding up his hands. "I was doing him a favor."

      I take a chair and turn it around to sit in; I fold my arms across
the backrest. Out of habit, I rub my tongue against the roof of my
mouth. It helps me to relax.

      "That was quite a fight," the captain says. "My men say you fought
better than any of us."

      Talen wobbles next to me. "You can't say anything funny 'cause it
hurts to laugh," he says, giggling. "Oh...that hurts."

      "Gunnar says he saw you take down the wind dancer."

      I presume he means the flail-wielding madman.  When I don't respond,
Ja-Mir looks for solace in his cup.

      With the adrenaline subsiding, I realize I'm tired.

      Angelaria walks over to my side and places something cool against my
skin.  I looked at her, admiring the way the light clings to her features
and that face surrounded by drifts of mahogany hair.

      Slowly, she starts to sponge my skin off, wringing the towel out in a
bucket of water. It's a compassionate bath that also serves to get me hard
between my legs. All I can do is watch and enjoy her cool touch against my
skin and hope that tonight affords an opportunity for Talen to suck me off
and drain some of my tension.

      I take a quick nap that afternoon, doing what I can to abate the
moans uttered from those who are suffering.  Ja-Mir orders us to sail.
There are thirteen of us counted among the ranks of the uninjured, and we
do most of the work to get the ship underway.  Despite being undermanned,
by nightfall our boat is once again at full sail and following a headwind
toward the Coast of Blood.

      I spend my evening hours at watch getting the nicks out of my katana.
I take to sharpening Talen's sword too. After I'm done, I oil the blades as
Cutter once taught me to do.

      Gunnar, the ship's first mate, settles down across from me. "Where'd
you learn yourself to fightin' that manner yt did this af'n noon, laddy?"
he asks.

      I set my tools down.  "Several places... and, from several people,
actually."

      He nods, pulling out a pipe.  He fills the bowl with tobacco and
smokes it, starting the cherry.  "Would you liken a smoke young Kian?"

      I reach up and take the proffered pipe.  I smoke a bit of it, but it
makes my lungs burn.

      "Hold it in yer mouth, lad.  Saver the flavorin' fer what its werth."

      I try that.  It tastes oddly like vanilla.  I hand him back his pipe.
We don't say much after that, instead just preferring to smoke.

      "Aye, an' I was liken' you at yer age," he says. "Readyin' to see the
werld and its peoplin' and towns.  Many things an it I encountered but
n'one that couldin' defend himself like you and yours friend can'it, except
of course train'ed men, not boys."

      I lean back against the deck, stretching. There's a part of me that
takes a narcissistic pleasure in the beauty of my body as my muscles, ribs,
and abs catch the shadows just right. I start to tell him about Cutter, the
man who'd first shown me a sword.  I remember him with fondness.

      The Mirimar.

      The name of it sends a chill through my spine. Its shore appears out
of the mist one early morning. I see mammoth trees materialize from the
fog, their great limbs outstretched before our vessel.  The sea's a dead
calm and the canopy of limbs rises into the white cotton around us to
vanish. Underneath those leaves it's a world of perpetual night filled with
choking bracken and lush undergrowth.  Biting flies and mosquitoes gather
so thick as to drift in clouds from the stagnant pools of water and mud.

      "Nice place," Talen remarks. Angelaria's completely silent.

      Ja-Mir drops anchor about fifty yards from the shore.  Gunnar
uncovers a life boat and orders two men to help him swing it over the
water. Meanwhile, the three of us gather our gear.

      I take off my clothes and toss them into a bag, keeping only my
priapus and boots on. I don't want to risk them getting wet. I pull out my
killsuit which still has a tear near the shoulder, and I don it while Talen
searched his belongings for some thick clothes that might protect him from
the nettles and the flies. After we're done, Angelaria walks down the
stairs and throws me a jar of ointment.

      "It'll keep the bugs off your face," she states.

      Talen and I smear it on our skin and then grab our bags. As an
afterthought, I sling my katana around my shoulder, securing it tightly,
and with hilt pointed down.

      I climb the stairs and walk across the deck.  Behind me, Talen
follows, grabbing a small pack loaded with provisions for the journey.  I
pass Angelaria by and jump across into the boat which rocks only slightly
under my weight.  Talen tossed me his pack, and I catch it setting it down
next to mine. I balance myself at the edge of the boat and reach across to
Angelaria.  She stretches out her hand, and I take it, pulling her across
the five-foot gap.  Talen, seeing that I have her safely on board, jumps
across and purchases next to Gunnar who's manning the oars.

      Gunnar signals to the men on deck.  "Drop us, easy now."

      The ropes holding the lifeboat come loose, and we plummet ten feet
onto the lagoon.  Then Gunnar takes us toward shore.  As we pass over the
lagoon, I gaze into the water where schools of fish the size of my foot
raced back and forth.

      "What kinds of fish are those?" I ask.

      Angelaria takes a peek. "I'm not sure.  I haven't seen them before."

      Talen leans over the edge, observing them and their dance in the
water.

      I stand up and when we're close to shore, jump into the shallows and
grab hold of the boat.  I pull it up onto the muddy bank and help Angelaria
to disembark.  Talen grabs our packs and thanks Gunnar.

      "Aye, and it 'as been a pleasure, lad.  Remember that you'll always
be partin' of this 'ere crew now and to come see us agin' if our paths er
'in the crossin'."

      I acknowledge him with a nod. "I'll remember."

      I stare about at the dark woods around me.  They're alive with
strange sounds and whistles and exotic birds flit from tree to tree. Behind
me, Talen wades into the water, pushing Gunnar's boat out and away from the
shore.

      "Where to?" I ask Angelaria.

      The girl mutters something in a strange language.  Around her, the
buzzing flies and insects drop noticeably.  "There, that's better," she
remarks, before scrutinizing her surroundings.  "We need to go west. Two
days in we should come across the road to Soulwarden."

      I nod, stepping over to my pack.  Talen shoulders his, and we follow
Angelaria's lead into the land of eternal twilight.

                                   *****

      I shall post Chapter 21 next week.