Swords & Dark Magic - By Jonathan Strahan Page 0,77

excitement.” She had laughed at his serious expression. Did she regret her decision now?

Still the ship gathered speed, trembling urgently from side to side. Every timber protesting, it dipped at an even steeper angle, rocking horribly, threatening to throw Nauha from the bunk. Again she clung to the albino. He murmured, “Cymoril,” and held her in those white arms with gentle strength. How could one so apparently sickly own such power? She moved against him. This was not the first time he had cried out the name of his betrothed, slain, albeit accidentally, by his own hand. In his sleep, he steadied her.

The ship bucked again. Now, suddenly, there was the sensation of falling, falling as the ship plunged over the edge, falling forever, it seemed, until with a massive crash, which made her feel every bone in her was smashed, the Silela Li struck an unyielding mass.

Nauha bit her lip. They had hit a reef. There could be no other explanation. The ship was breaking apart. The Silela Li moved rhythmically up and down as if in the grip of a monster. Nauha could no longer silence the long, full-throated scream which burst from her body. Certain that they were destroyed and were rapidly sinking, she reconciled herself for death, but Elric’s arms tightened a little more and, when she opened her eyes, she could see through the gloom that he was amused. Was this how he accepted their fate? Why was she reassured?

Then the water became strangely quiet. Were they sinking? The ship gentled into an easy forward motion. Elric closed his eyes. A faint smile touched his lips, as if he’d read her thoughts. Overhead she heard men’s urgent voices, full of relief, calling orders and responses. Suddenly Elric swung out of the bunk and began to unscrew the covers over the cabin’s only porthole, letting in silver light which made his body almost invisible to her. Cool, sweet air crept through the ship. Did she hear a seabird?

“Where are we?” Then she secretly cursed herself for her inanity. He did not answer but moved away from the porthole, becoming a shadow. Eventually he spoke. His voice was soft, his tone almost formally polite.

“We’re where you did not expect to be. On the underside of the world. Which the people who dwell here call the World Above. I’m not greatly experienced in this, but I think we had an easy transition. There are still several hours to dawn. Best sleep some more.” He touched her face, perhaps making a small spell, and she obeyed.

Later, dozing, she heard a tap at the cabin door and Moonglum called from the other side. Elric rose to answer, letting her cover herself before opening the door to the redheaded Elwherite, who stood there grinning, his arm around Cita Tine. She was pretty, with steady, daring eyes and a firm mouth. Moonglum had met her in the Steel Womb the night before they embarked. Cita Tine was short and sturdy, with a dancer’s figure and muscles. She had black hair and eyes, a dark skin typical of her people. She seemed most relieved of all. No doubt she too had expected to die as the ship fell. Now she breathed in the sweet, cool air blowing through the ship and she cocked her head merrily, hearing the oars being unshipped and thrust into choppy water. There came a snap as the wind took a sail. From somewhere came the smell of frying meat. Overhead a dozen voices called at once. Everyone aboard had an air of astonishment, of disbelief that they survived. Even Nauha’s moody lover was apparently more light-headed than usual as he made his excuses and called for warm water.

When they had bathed and dressed, Elric and Nauha joined the others in the big public gallery where passengers and ship’s officers took their meals. Besides the two priestesses and Elric’s party, there were six more passengers of the merchant class, more than a little shaken by their recent experience, exchanging excited descriptions of their night. Only one other was not evidently a merchant, for he sat a little apart from the rest, wrapped up in a dark red sea-cloak, as if against a cold only he experienced. Saturnine, incommunicative, he showed only a passing interest in his fellow passengers. Like most of the others, he was bound for fabled Hizss. The previous night, he had eaten quickly and retired. Moonglum had glanced at him once or twice, but Elric’s interest