The Cockatrice didn't stand a chance against the Skirrish pirate ship. Arai had tried to convince Captain Burt to make a fight of it, but the old sea dog had shaken his head ruefully. "We're a merchant ship," he said, "and a small one at that, with a small crew. We have very few weapons on board. Even if I thought it was a good idea, I don't think I could convince my men to try their luck against fifty bloodthirsty pirates."

"I'd be willing to fight," Arai said.

Captain Burt glanced at the sword on his belt. "Commendable. And I'm sure you're an excellent swordsman, but let's be realistic here. You're only one man."

Frustrated, he turned to Lillandra. "Can you do any magic that might frighten them off?"

"I could make some Volcanics, if I had some glass," she said doubtfully. "But they take a few hours to make, and this ship will be on us in just a few minutes, by the look of it."

"You can't set their sails aflame?"

"I could try," she said. "But if I messed it up, and I probably would, I might wind up setting both of our ships on fire. I told you before, I'm not good at casting. I got lucky when I levitated you out of the pit earlier; I wouldn't care to try my luck again."

"What about our zemi?" But he couldn't see how these would be any of use to them, either. The Mermaid's Glass, Shell's Badge of Deflection, the Stone of Many Tongues, the Everlasting Chalice...none of these struck him as particularly useful. Well, the Badge of Deflection might be useful, if it came to fighting, but its magic couldn't last forever; the pirates' blades and arrows were bound to find them eventually.

"I don't think so," Lillandra said, in response to his question. "I'm sure I could drive them off if I still had the Staff of Night, but..."

"But you don't have the Staff of Night." He sighed again, and turned to Burt, who was standing at the railing, grinding his teeth while watching the speedy ship approach. "You mean to surrender, then?" he asked the man.

"I'm afraid we have no choice."

"What will they do with us?"

"I'm not sure. They'll force us to turn the ship over to them, at the least, and they'll steal our cargo. If they're outlaws, they might order some of to join their crew. If they're not -- if they're working for the Skirrish government, which is a good possibility -- they'll probably take us up to Helltrix, to see if they can jangle up a ransom for us." He shrugged. "Or they might just kill us all."

"I'd rather go down fighting, in that case," Arai averred.

"Suit yourself," he said. "But if there's even a chance they'll keep us alive..."

Arai took a deep breath. He had been in these kinds of situations before, situations which seemed to have no good resolution, but he had always managed to find a way out of them. This time, it seemed, his luck had finally run out.

He took Lillandra and Shell aside. "Captain Burt's planning to surrender. We should prepare for the worst."

"What did you have in mind?"

He turned his eyes on Shell. "You know that little compartment in our cabin, beneath the bunks?"

"Yes."

"I want you to hide in there."

"For how long?"

"As long as you can. Stay hidden, stay out of their sight. Only come out at night. Sneak food out of the galley if you have to. Look for opportunities. If they lock us up, you might find yourself in a position to free us." He unbuckled his sword and handed it to her. "And take this with you. I don't want these pirates getting their hands on Silus, or any of our zemi."

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She looked at him doubtfully. "This isn't going to be easy."

"I know. Can you do it?"

She nodded slowly. "I think I can."

"Off with you, then. Good luck." He gave her a pat on the head, and they parted there -- she scampered off to their cabin.

"What about me?" Lillandra asked.

"Let these pirates know that you're a witch," Arai told her. "Make it plain to them. That ought to give you some measure of protection. But if that's not enough..." He handed her the knife he usually kept on his thigh. "Here. Just in case."

"And what about you?"

"I'll stick with the crew." He shrugged. "We'll see what happens, I guess." And he returned to Captain Burt at the railing, and -- feeling rather naked without his sword -- watched the pirate ship draw nearer, its black sails flapping ominously in the sea breeze.

* * *

Captain Burt allowed the pirates to board without incident. He probably made the right decision, in agreeing to surrender the ship without a fight; there was no way his crew could have fought them off anyway. They were outnumbered at least two to one, and these pirates were rowdy men, eager to do violence, and bristling with weapons: swords, daggers, spears, and clubs. Their favorite weapon, though, was a short, curved blade which Twine called a "cutlass"; it was apparently a favorite of Skirrish pirates.

The captain of the pirate ship was a sneeringly handsome fellow with an odd, triangular scar on his forehead. He had long, braided black hair and a forked black beard, and he was wearing a striking black-and-yellow-striped jacket which made him look something like a giant bumblebee. Like his men, he was heavily armed -- he wore two cutlasses on his belt and a longsword on his back.

He spoke to the crew: "What's the name of this ship? What is your cargo?"

Arai understood his words, but Captain Burt, Twine, and the others of the crew, lined up along the railing, merely looked at him blankly.

"Don't any of you speak Skirrish?" the man complained.

The Stone of Many Tongues had given Arai and Lillandra the ability to speak and understand any language they encountered. Arai spoke up: "I can speak Skirrish," he said.

The pirate looked at him. "Good. You'll be my translator, then. What's your name?"

"Arai."

"Are you from Grand Skir yourself?"

"No."

"Then where did you learn to speak Skirrish?"

"It's a long story."

"Are you a member of this crew?"

"No. I'm only a passenger."

"I see. Well, it's your own bad luck, I suppose. What's the name of this ship?"

"The Cockatrice. She's a merchant ship, bound for Tax Trium."

"What is her cargo?"

Arai wasn't quite sure what it was that Captain Burt was carrying -- no one had told him, and he had never ventured down into the hold -- so he asked the man. But Captain Burt had suddenly become suspicious of him: "How is that you speak Skirrish?"

"It's a long story," he said again. And he asked him again what he was carrying.

"Liquor, mostly," he said, "and sugar from Jaquin, and honeycomb from Regulith, among other things. What's he planning to do with us?"

"We haven't got to that part yet." He told the pirate captain what Captain Burt had told him. As soon as he mentioned the liquor, the assembled pirates began cheering, and it took several seconds for the captain to quiet them down. "Liquor, is it? Excellent."

"The captain wants to know what you're going to do with us."

"This man is the captain?" the pirate inquired, gesturing to Burt.

"Yes."

"He'll be coming with me, then. The rest of his crew will remain in their quarters until we reach Grand Skir." He turned to another pirate. "The ship is yours. Assemble a prize crew."

"What about the booze?"

"I'll have a few cases sent over. Don't let the boys get ahead of themselves, though; they can't fight off a Gallean patrol drunk." His eyes then fell on Lillandra, who was standing beside Arai. "Who is this?"

"My wife," Arai said. And then he added, "She's a witch."

He eyed her appreciatively. "Is that a fact? Bickerstaff!"

One of the pirates emerged from the crowd. "Yes, sir?"

"Is this woman really a witch?"

The pirate, Bickerstaff, studied her intently. His eyes went wide. "She's a witch all right," he said. "And powerful. The magia's swirling around her like a tropical storm."

"Interesting. I wonder why she didn't try to use her magic to defend the ship."

"The captain told her not to," Arai said. "He preferred to surrender."

"He's a fool, then. But the Aeromancer can always use more witches. Of course we can't have her casting any spells here, now, can we?" He nodded to Bickerstaff, who produced a length of rope and bound her hands in front of her. "Lock her up with the rest of them. We'll turn her over to Valtun when we get to the capital. He'll decide what to do with her."

"Where are you taking us?" Arai demanded. "Where are we going?"

"Where do you think? We're going to Grand Skir. We're at war, you know. We need men. We need soldiers, if we're to have any hope of fighting back those piss-dripping Galleans. Isn't that right, boys?"

The pirates cheered, hollering and waving their cutlasses.

"Soldiers?" Arai asked. "You're conscripting us? To fight for Grand Skir?"

"That's right."

He couldn't help but snort. "They won't do it. This crew will never fight for you, nor for the Aeromancer."

He chuckled. "Well, not willingly, no."