Silence fell over them as they tread water, unsure what to do.

Now William was grateful Mother had taught him and Felix to swim. If she hadn't, they would both be as good as dead. Then, a sudden wave splashed over him, driving him away from Felix. He fought his way back through the water. As he did, William realized how dire their situation really was. He looked around, trying to think of what to do.

"We could try and swim to land," said William finally.

At this, he thought that Felix would have some biting sarcasm for him. He would likely point out that they needed to learn which way land was.

"All right," said Felix, "the current is heading that way." He motioned.

"Which means we should swim at a right angle to it. If we keep that way, we'll hit land sooner or later."

"Right," said William, "we'll do that then."

They swam through the sea in the direction Felix had motioned, jostled by waves, and chilled by the water. Felix nearly went under several times, and William was terrified he would. Yet he always kept going, and they paddled on. What if Felix could not keep this up? Should William swim down again and try to carry him on his back? William supposed it was the only decent thing he could do.

He wondered if sharks were swimming beneath him. Or some other carnivorous fish was eyeing them for its next meal. The silence was unbearable, and he wanted something to distract himself. But there was nothing but the mist and the waves. Even worse, this was all his fault. He had been a complete coward, throwing down his weapon and fleeing when he should have fought like a man.

William should have fought the satyr and killed the dirty thing like Raynald would have done! But, instead, Felix had been forced to rush to his aid. So now they were swimming in the open ocean. They would likely drown or be eaten by horrible things lurking beneath the waves. All because of his cowardice.

At least they hadn't seen the Shark Queen yet. They'd be as good as dead if they laid eyes on her.

"I'm sorry," said William as they swam onwards.

"For what?" asked Felix, whose strokes were growing weaker.

"For not fighting," said William, "because of me, you were thrown into the sea."

"More or less," agreed Felix.

They did not speak for a while after that.

Then William's hopes surged, for the vague shape of the landmass Felix had spoken of came into view. It loomed above them in magnificent brownstone cliffs with many bumps and chinks. Atop of it were many forests visible. The trees were densely packed, tall, and wide, even from this distance.

William's heart practically leaped from his chest. They had found land! Suddenly, his hopes sank again. There was no way they could climb up those sheer cliffs. It wasn't possible.

Felix's strokes became slower and then stopped altogether. The dark-skinned boy plunged face-first into the water. William swam to him in a panic and pulled his head out of the water. "Felix, Felix, you've got to stay awake! We're almost there!"

"Just... need... rest...." said Felix, voice distant.

William looked around for any way up the cliffs of brownish stone. There was none, but he needed firm ground soon! Then he saw something. "What about those rocks over that way? We can rest there for a time!"

"All right," said Felix. "I think I can make it."

They made for the rocks, and as they swam, Felix looked as though he might faint again. William made sure to stay by him, determined to carry him on his back if he had to. Finally, they reached the rocks. William tried to scramble up and quickly cut his hand. Barnacles were growing just beneath the water. Sucking his sliced fingers, he saw that Felix could not scale any higher.

Reaching out with one hand, he gripped Felix by the collar, hoisted him, and put him onto the rocks. From there, Felix could pull himself a little further up before collapsing. William began to follow him, got halfway up, and banged his knee in the process. He felt tears coming to his eyes from the pain.

No! He would not cry. He was the son of a Duke; he would act like it. Pulling himself further up, he fell forward to rest against the rocks. For a time, he lay there, exhausted and feeling a terrible headache coming up. Then, looking up, he saw Felix had turned around and was staring at the gray sky above. There was a strange smile on his face.

"So there was land in this direction," Felix said. My education was with merit then.

"Where were you taught anyway?" asked William, trying to distract himself from the pain in his fingers. "I mean, I knew you knew your letters when we met, but-"

"A tutor educated me," said Felix.

"You weren't nobility," said William. "Father would have told me."

Felix remained silent for a moment. "I'm related to someone important. He's not likely to inherit anything, though. A very distant connection."

William was curious to know how long precisely; they rested there on the wet rocks for a long time. Around them, the mist was burning away, and the sun was coming out of the clouds. It revealed green trees and reflected off the water. It would have been beautiful if it weren't so cold and miserable. William shielded his eyes as they settled and looked out over the waters. He could see no sign of any ships, though not all the mist had cleared yet. He looked to Felix, who looked a bit stronger.

"Where do you suppose we are?" he asked.

"Seathorius, probably," said Felix. "This isn't Haldren, and I heard the men say we were near that land."

"That is the worst news I've heard all day," said William. "We're near the land of Melchious, of the satyrs."

"It won't matter where we are if we don't get off these rocks," said Felix. "What now?"

"We swim along the shore," said William. "Until we find a place to climb up on dry land. Do you feel ready for another swim?"

Then, there was a horn call, loud and shrill, from above them. Looking up to the cliffs, William saw a figure with goat hooves and a wild mane of red hair holding a horn. It turned and raced off. They had been discovered. Also, William would rather drown than be rescued by satyrs.

"As ready as I'll ever be," said Felix. "Let's go."

They plunged back into the water and labored with all their strength. Little by little, the cliffs got lower to one side. They saw no further sign of the satyrs; without the mist, they could see where they were going. This did little to ease William's mind. He was deathly afraid that they would get up to shore only to be greeted by satyrs. Or have to swim away from a ship of creatures rather than be pulled out of the water.

Neither of those things had happened yet, but he feared they would. On the other side, the dominions of the Shark Queen were below.

Finally, they were swimming along a beach of white sand with a line of trees beyond it. They made for the shore, and the water got increasingly shallow until they crawled up the coast. The sand stuck to their wet clothes and bodies. They pulled themselves onward, unwilling to stop but unable to stand. Finally, near the forest's edge, they stopped crawling and lay there. For a few minutes, they remained where they were, tired, freezing, and soaked. William felt he might die and realized they might if they stayed here. The wind was picking up, and his hands were feeling chilled.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"We..." he gasped. "We should take shelter in the trees."

Felix did not answer. He looked almost dead as he lay there. William knew they could not wait for him to get up alone.

Forcing himself up, William pulled Felix up, and they staggered on. Every step was exhausting, and it took hours to get anywhere. Yet William knew they would die of a chill if they stayed out in this wind. They both knew it. They could be sheltered from the wind in the forest's eaves. When they got there, they collapsed against the side of a tree. There they rested only a moment.

"We should," said Felix, "gather fuel for a fire. Warm ourselves."

"That could draw the satyrs to us," said William.

"It's that or freeze," said Felix. "We can make a signal fire."

He got up. It was more difficult than anything William had done before, but he managed it. Together, they searched the woods for dry sticks, leaves, bark, and fuel for a fire. Taking what they found, they piled thin sticks together with larger ones. Afterward, they put many dried leaves and bark underneath.

Felix began to grind two sticks together, trying to create a spark. But, as William watched, he felt colder with every passing moment. Felix's efforts needed to be fixed. Then, there was a spark, and the leaves caught fire. William and Felix leaned over them. They warmed their frozen hands and dried their bodies.

The flames grew hotter as they added more fuel. Smoke was soon billowing up into the sky above them. Someone off the coast might see the pillar of smoke and come to rescue them. Yet they saw no ships on the ocean before them. They began to feel their limbs again, which was something. Even so, his lips and mouth were horribly dry, and he felt hungry.

"Gods above, I'm thirsty," said Felix. "What I wouldn't do for some water and food."

"I wouldn't take either from a satyr," said William, trying to sound bold.

The weariness they had been trying to fight off gradually came on them. Then, finally, the darkness overtook the light. William realized they had been at this all day. Then, eyes drooping, he found himself drifting off. His last thought before falling asleep was that he hoped to wake up in the morning.

William awoke the following day and found his throat was even more parched than last night. He was aching, and the sand covering him made him itch badly. Then he heard voices from somewhere. For a moment, he thought that Raynald had come ashore. Joy filled his heart. They would be rescued!

Then he heard the harsh voices in nature, and his joy turned to dread. They did not belong to humans. He could not understand their speech but forced himself to look around. The fire was nearly dead; the last of its embers were cooling. They should have left a watch.

Crawling past the fire, he shook Felix awake. The boy opened his mouth, but William covered it with one hand, then motioned with his other hand down the beach. Even as he did so, a pack of satyrs came around the bend wielding weapons. They were drawing near at an alarming rate. They hadn't yet seen them and were talking freely in their tongue. Some looked as though they had been drinking.

"Come on," said William, "we'll make for the trees."

They crawled forward on hand and foot while staying as low as possible. Then, slipping beyond the trees, they hid there. Then Felix wiped the sleep from his eyes and swore. "As soon as they see our campfire and the sticks, they'll know we're here," he said. "Let's get some distance between them and us while we can."

"But what if Raynald saw us?" asked William. "We can't just move away from the shore."

"The satyrs saw us first," said Felix. "Now, come on."

They ran into the woods. Their bare feet were hurt on the gnarled roots of the trees. William felt lightheaded from lack of water, and his stomach growled from lack of food. The trees seemed to loom over them, and one of their branches somehow grabbed ahold of William as they moved. Struggling to break free of it, he could not untangle its claw-like branches from his sodden cloak.

At last, he snapped off the branches and moved on.

"One more sign for the satyrs to find us by," said Felix.

Then, suddenly, they heard drunken whoops and cheers toward the shore. Without a word, Felix sprinted away, and William ran after him. He ignored the agony of his feet, for the voices drew nearer, and he dared not look back.

The woods around him seemed to distort and change around them. The voices of the satyrs seemed to come everywhere and nowhere. The trees loomed higher and higher around them. The roots appeared to shift to grab their ankles. It was as if they had entered a realm of nightmares without a beginning or end. William realized they had no idea where they were going or what they would do if they escaped. That just made it all worse.

Then William tripped on a root and hit the ground, having the wind knocked from him. His chest ached, and his whole body was numb with the shock. For a moment, he struggled to stand. Then Felix was by his side, pulling him up, and they ran. William felt he might faint at any moment and risked a glance back. He could see the satyrs gaining on them.

One hurled a spear, and William ducked. The spear went over his head and plunged into a tree near him. A shadow passed overhead. It veiled the world in darkness, and the spear thrower screamed. William looked up to see blood streaming from his assailant's eyes. Then, the satyr was consumed in a violet flame.

William followed Felix up a hill. A tall white satyr dropped from above as they reached the top. It was the same one that had nearly killed them on the ship coming out of the treetops and landing before them. William froze in horror as he realized the satyrs had won. They had taken the boat and killed both Raynald and Rusara.

Both his mentors were dead.

No, it was impossible. The ships might have broken off; it must have been a stalemate. Before he could move, the white satyr grabbed him and Felix by the collar. It dragged them down the hill to throw at the feet of a short black female satyr. The white satyr said something on their tongue.

The black satyr nodded while she replied, then motioned to William and Felix. The other satyrs were on them with ropes in moments. First, William's hands were bound behind his back harshly, and he was forced to stand upright. His legs were also tied, and then they were carried on the shoulders of the satyrs through the woods.

They were jostled and battered as they lugged through the forest's darkness. Time stretched on as they went onward. It became darker and darker until he could hardly see anything save vague shapes. Not that it slowed the satyrs any. The trees did not seem to trip and bar their way as they had William and Felix.

It was midday by the time they emerged once more into the light. A bleak and horrible-looking place welcomed them, patrolled by archers. It was a village of raised buildings of wood built into the branches of trees. Shacks were on the ground, made from many ill-cut boards, with small windows. The streets were filthy, and at the center of the town, a festival of some kind seemed underway.

Satyrs were dancing in a circle, their bodies painted with red dye. They were clutching weapons and howled upwards. A group of seven dwarves clad in rags was chained to one side, and bonfires surrounded the ceremony.

At the very center stood an idol of Melchious. William had never seen an image of him before, but he knew him on sight. He was a humanoid creature with talons instead of feet. On his back were the wings of a hawk, and his head was that of a vulture. In one upraised hand, he held a longbow and in the other several barbed arrows. It was both horrible and fascinating at once.

William and Felix were thrown down to one side. The satyr warband that had captured them went to join in the festivities. For a while, they lay there. They observed the dances as the satyrs drank and performed unspeakable acts. Then, there was the ringing of a bell, and the rites halted. The dwarves were dragged forward by their chains, and the black satyr drew out a serrated knife. Getting behind one of the dwarves, she pulled back the dwarf's head by the hair and cut his throat.

Blood sprayed over the statue of Melchious, and cheers came from the satyrs. The black satyr went to the next dwarf and did the same to him. Felix averted his eyes, but William could not look away. He watched as, one by one, the dwarves were sacrificed and the statue stained red with blood.

When, at last, the dwarves were all dead, the satyrs rushed forward with knives. They butchered the bodies like livestock and roasted the meat over the bonfires. More alcohol was brought out, and drunken revelry overtook them.

Felix was throwing up. William felt his stomach churning but forced it down. He would not lose control. What was going to happen to them? Would they be eaten like cattle? William felt tears coming to his eyes, but he blinked them back. He would not cry before these creatures; he would not! William looked away in horror and pity for the dwarves as the sacrifices continued.

Time passed as the revelry continued well after the sun had set, and darkness lay over the land. Then, when the rites had concluded and the satyrs were in a drunken sprawl, the black satyr kneeled by them.

"Who are you?" she asked in Harlenorian. "And where do you come from?"

William's every inch hurt. He had been drenched and half-drowned. He had been frozen and carried around like a sack and would probably die horribly. But somehow, he forced his way up to a kneeling position. He held himself with as much dignity as could be managed.

"I am the son of Duke Vanion Gabriel and the student of Raynald De Chevlon. They will come looking for me," he said.

The black satyr considered this. "This is a good fortune that Melchious brings to us. We are lucky to have found you before the other villages. You will undoubtedly be worth a great ransom when he is done with you." She looked up at the white satyr. "Doltier, take his majesty to a special cage."

Then she gripped Felix by the throat and drew him to eye level. Felix remained calm despite it all. "This one is the Calishan. Melchious' messenger said nothing of him. Take him to the sacrificial pit. We'll spill his blood for Melchious tomorrow night!"

"He is a trusted friend of mine," said William. "And where he goes, I go."

"You don't have a choice." laughed the black satyr. "Take them away!"

Melchious himself had sent the satyrs to capture him. And William knew precisely why. But how had he learned to attack Hrungeld's ship? And how could William save Felix and himself?