Meleng ran back up on deck, pushing past everyone he encountered. “Sinitïa!”

He paused only momentarily at the scene on deck. A giant funnel of water spun between two other ships—military ships maybe—to the starboard side of the Lustrous Rose. The two ships were each heeling heavily to opposite sides. The Lustrous Rose was turning towards port and gaining speed.

Meleng dashed about the deck, ducking under rigging and around crew, doing his best not to accidentally hit anything or anyone with the sword. Near the bow, on the starboard side, a portion of the deck was broken apart. There was now a gaping hole there.

“Sinitïa!” Gods, what if she had been there?

He hurried on. There she was! Thank the gods! She was standing near Captain Gen on the poop deck, clutching at a post as the ship rocked. Jeanne stood by her legs. She was staring starboard at the ongoing display. Meleng ran towards her. He stumbled and almost fell on a couple of occasions, but managed to stay on his feet.

He passed Miana Ting, who shook their head, but didn’t say anything.

“Sinitïa!”

“Meleng!” Sinitïa let go of the post with one hand and waved. As she ship rocked more, she grabbed the post again.

He ran up to her. “You were supposed to stay below deck.”

She frowned and looked away from him. “I wanted to see what was going on.”

“Already been through that with her, lad,” Gen said. “She’s a stubborn one, but she’s staying out of the way. Watch over her and stay out of the way yourself.”

Meleng stumbled up to Sinitïa, Jeanne barking at him as his legs brushed against the dog. He grabbed hold of the post with his free hand and tried to hold the sword up in some sort of defensive position. He doubted he was holding it right.

“Sorry,” Sinitïa said.

“It’s okay,” Meleng said.

She touched his sword arm. “You should bend your elbow a little. You’re too stiff.”

“Oh.” He gulped and did as she said.

“I think we’re going to get away,” Gen said, “so you probably won’t need that sword, lad. We’re not going to be boarded.”

Meleng lowered the sword, though he wasn’t sure where to put it.

“Nice work with the grapples, by the way,” Gen said.

“Thank you.”

“But we’re going to have to sit down and have a long talk after this is over. I know I agreed to your terms for passage, but I didn’t quite realise what I was in for. I take full responsibility for my part, but given the circumstances, I’d like a few more details if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” Meleng said.

Gen just nodded.

Sinitïa smiled at him, her cheeks dimpling. “Have you seen what Jorvan’s doing?”

He nodded.

“It’s amazing!”

Meleng looked towards the funnel and two ships. There was no sign of Jorvan, though the Isyar couldn’t be far. He hoped Jorvan was fine. The strain he must be putting on his wing…

He looked back at Sinitïa. She was staring at him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah.” She frowned and scrunched her nose. “I guess I shouldn’t have come, should I?” Meleng started to respond, but she continued, “I knew they would search for me, but I didn’t think it would be like this. I didn’t mean to put everyone in danger. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Meleng said.

“It’s just, you’re my only friend, and I wanted to see you. You are my friend, right? You’re not using me like Mother and Annai say?”

He moved closer and put an arm around her. “Of course I’m your friend, and I’m glad you came.”

She smiled. “Then I’m glad I came, too.”

They stood there and watched as the Lustrous Rose made it farther out to sea. After a while, the funnel stopped spinning and the water collapsed back into the sea. Shortly after, Jorvan flew back over the Lustrous Rose. The wind picked up and the sails filled out more.

Meleng wasn’t sure how long it took, but first the harbour, and then the two pursuing ships got gradually smaller and smaller before disappearing over the horizon.

Jorvan landed on the poop deck and fell to his knees. Meleng and Sinitïa rushed over to him.

“You should have enough wind to get far ahead, Captain,” Jorvan said. He gasped for air.

“Are you all right?” Sinitïa asked.

Jorvan nodded. “I am just exhausted.” He stood up. His injured wing twitched and a brief grimace passed his face.

“Your wing,” Meleng said.

“It will be fine.”

“You shouldn’t exert yourself so much. Your wing won’t heal properly.”

“There was no other choice.”

Meleng sighed. “I know, but please just be careful.”

Jorvan nodded. “Of course.” He walked over to Captain Gen.

“I don’t think there are words enough to express my gratitude, Jorvanultumn,” Gen said. “We would not have escaped without you.”

“You would not have needed to escape if we were not here.” Jorvan looked away as he spoke. When he was finished, he turned back to Gen. “Was anyone hurt?”

Gen shook his head. “Not seriously. A few minor injuries, I’m told, when the trebuchet hit us, but we were lucky overall.”

“I did my best not to harm any of those chasing us, but I cannot guarantee no one was harmed.”

Gen patted Jorvan’s shoulder. “To be completely honest, Jorvanultumn, the well-being of our attackers in not high on my list of priorities at the moment, so don’t feel bad if any were hurt. I mentioned to Meleng a few minutes ago, though, that I do want to speak to the three of you later, once we’ve established a secure lead and everyone has had a chance to recover a little. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check in with my officers. Jeanne, come!” He moved off, the dog following at his heels.

Sinitïa frowned and watched the dog go.

“We should head below deck,” Meleng said. “Get out of the crew’s way.” He reached for Sinitïa’s hand, but remembered the sword in his other. “I should return this.”

Sinitïa looked back at him. She linked her arm around his and huddled close to him as they made their way across deck. Jorvan followed.

Ting was already shaking their head when Meleng first saw them. He held out the sword as he approached.

The first mate took the sword from him and passed it to a nearby crewmember. “You made it to her in the end, at least.”

“She ran off.” Meleng glanced at Sinitïa, who blushed and buried her face in his shoulder.

Ting shook their head again. “Yes, I noticed. Below deck with both of you. Jorvan, if you are able, we could still use you.”

Jorvan straightened up. His injured wing twitched. “I am very tired, but I will do what I can.”

Meleng turned sharply, inadvertently yanking Sinitïa. “You need to rest.”

“I will—”

Meleng turned back to Ting. “According to Captain Gen, you have a strong lead for the moment. Jorvan has exerted himself beyond what he should have. He needs time to rest.”

“I will not deny him rest if that is what he wishes,” Ting said.

Meleng looked back at Jorvan. “You really should rest.”

Jorvan bowed his head. “Very well. I will rest. My apologies, First Mate Ting. However, if other ships start to gain on us, please let me know, and I will do what I can then.”

“As you wish.” Ting stood aside and let them continue on their way.

They descended below deck to their cabin. Once there, Sinitïa flung herself onto her bunk. Jorvan sat on the edge of his and Meleng sat beside him. The Isyar slumped forward, hanging his head low and breathing heavily. Meleng figured he should climb up to his own bunk and let Jorvan rest. After all, he was pretty exhausted too. It was still early, but with his lack of sleep during the night and all the excitement just now, Meleng was certain that if he lay down, he’d fall asleep instantly. However, Jorvan’s wing was still twitching constantly.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Let me see your wing.”

Jorvan made the slightest of sounds and turned a little to allow Meleng better access to the wing.

Meleng felt gently along one of the leather-like flaps, then along one of the delicate bones. Despite the lightness of his touch, Jorvan flinched. The entire wing trembled, and Meleng withdrew his hand. At several of the joints, the normally grey skin had taken on a pale pinkish-red colour. Where the bone had broken, it was a much darker, dull red. Meleng reached out again, trying to touch the wing with even less pressure than before. Jorvan flinched again, but this time kept his wing under control. The bones were so fragile.

“You have got to take better care,” Meleng said.

Further along the wing, nearer the tip, a tear that had nearly healed had reopened. It wasn’t bleeding, thankfully. “Hold on. I need to put some stitches in again.”

He retrieved his scrip from his bunk, and took a needle and thread from it. He lit a candle and held the needle in the flame until it became too hot to hold any longer. Then he threaded the needle as it cooled, pulled a small bottle of alcohol from his scrip, and turned back to Jorvan. “Spread your wing.”

Jorvan turned a little more to give himself room, then spread his wing as much as the cramped space would allow.

Meleng squeezed along the side of Sinitïa’s bunk. She had fallen asleep and was sprawled out, leaving little room. However, he was able to find a bit of space at the very edge near the tear in Jorvan’s wing. He poured a little alcohol along the torn edge of each flap. Then he began to sew them back together. “You do too much. You’ll be lucky if this tear doesn’t scar.”

“Would you have me do nothing?” Jorvan said. “Leave others in need? Let them die?”

“No, of course not. Just...I don’t know...less.” Meleng sighed. “It’s not just today. You’ve been over-exerting yourself for ages and not giving yourself time to recover. First, you kept pushing yourself in Ninifin, in a climate that could have killed you. You fought battles when you could barely stand. Even after breaking your wing, you’ve kept pushing yourself.”

“There has not been any other choice.”

“Really? You want to help people, but you won’t be able to help anyone if you’re dead.”

“I am not in danger of dying. If my wing does not heal, I will not be the first flightless Isyar.”

The ship swayed and Meleng let go of the wing to avoid pulling on it. When the ship levelled again, he resumed the work. “You shouldn’t speak like that.”

Jorvan looked up at Meleng. “I am sorry to worry you.” He looked so tired.

“It’s okay. I know there hasn’t been much other choice. Just be careful, okay?”

Jorvan nodded and gave a feeble smile. “I will try.”

Meleng finished stitching the wing, then sat beside Jorvan again. They sat in silence for a while, Meleng watching Sinitïa sleep.

Eventually, Meleng said, “You should get some sleep. I’ll let you rest.” He stood up and started to climb up to his own bunk.

“May I ask you something, Meleng?” Jorvan said. “About Sinitïa.”

Meleng paused. “Of course.” He sat beside Jorvan again.

“I have noticed First Mate Ting and several other crew refer to her as your...girlfriend.”

Meleng grimaced.

“I know I have not mastered the language perfectly, and I realise Sinitïa is a girl and a friend, so the term is literally correct. However, if I understand correctly, the two words used together in that manner indicate a romantic or sexual coupling. Yet I—”

“Ting says that to make fun of me,” Meleng said hastily.

“Then it is not true?”

Meleng shook his head. “No, not in that way.”

“In another way?”

“No, I just…”

“I have only had a few days to observe the two of you together, but your behaviour with her is very different from your behaviour with other people, as is hers with you. When you speak of your journey to Scovese, you speak of her in a different way to others as well. When I travelled with Rudiger and Zandrue, I noticed they too behaved in different ways with each other than with others. I am not saying it was the same as you and Sinitïa, but…”

Meleng sighed. He did act differently with Sinitïa, he supposed, but then, he acted differently with everyone, didn’t he? Everyone was different.

“I am sorry,” Jorvan said. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s all right,” Meleng said. “Believe me, Sinitïa and I are just friends.”

Jorvan smiled. “I believe you. I am simply trying to understand human romantic relationships. They confuse me.”

“Yeah, they confuse me too.” Meleng glanced over at Sinitïa, who was still sleeping soundly. “I suppose she’s a different sort of friend though. What’s it like with Isyar?”

“Simpler,” Jorvan said.

Meleng chuckled. “That’s not very specific. What was it like with you and your...fomase? Is that the correct word?”

“It is, but it is pronounced fomase.”

Meleng couldn’t tell any difference between that and how he had pronounced it.

“We just knew. Isyar just know. When the bond forms, we gain an empathic link. We can almost feel each other’s senses. There is no denying the bond the way some humans deny the attraction they have to each other.”

Meleng frowned. “I thought you said you believe me.”

“I do. I was referring to the way Rudiger and Zandrue behaved before admitting their situation to themselves and others.”

Meleng smiled and nodded. “Oh, I see. Your way does sound a lot simpler.”

Jorvan chuckled. “It is, though the bond can sometimes form with people you do not expect it to. There was someone I grew up with. We were very close. She, I, and everyone we knew expected the bond to form between us. Instead, the very first time I saw Fevionawishtensen, the bond formed with her. Chiansamorkin—the one I grew up with—was very upset when she learned. When I left Isyaria, she had not yet bonded with anyone. I hope that has changed. I would like her to be happy. So you see, there can be some complications, even with Isyar.”

Meleng patted Jorvan’s arm. “I should let you relax.”

“This has been very relaxing,” Jorvan said, “but I understand what you mean. It will try to sleep. Thank you for your concern for me.”

“You’re welcome.” Meleng climbed onto his bunk.

“You are a good friend, Meleng.”

“You too.” Meleng lay down and closed his eyes. Sleep came quickly.

* * * * *

Jorvanultumn sat up after Meleng had fallen asleep. He was exhausted, but he had suffered worse exhaustion. Right now, his mind was too active to sleep.

The ship was on its way at last—truly on its way to their destination. He was taking a risk doing this, returning to Isyaria with his elispt not even half complete. It would only be a brief deferment; he would not be in Isyaria long. That was what he had been telling himself, and what he would tell his diare. He was confident Davorultumn would accept the explanation, although he would be unhappy about it. Yet there was the possibility he would not. Jorvanultumn was risking great shame.

His own shame he could handle, however.

What about Fevionawishtensen? What would she think?

It had been so long since he had seen her. He longed to see her again. The sooner, the better. Yet he knew it should be much longer yet. Would she hate him for that?

What he was doing was necessary. He was convinced of that, and there was no way he was going to change his mind. Yet he could not avoid the worry he would not be able to convince Mikranasta to return with him to Quorge to help Felitïa, and thus he would have broken his elispt for nothing but a fruitless endeavour. He would have disappointed Fevionawishtensen without accomplishing anything.

The thought was terrifying.

Then there was Sinitïa. He looked over at her, the soft glow around her flickering as she slept. It was not that unusual to see humans with magical talent. About a quarter of them had it, and most went untrained. However, with most, their glow was faint enough that it was barely noticeable and easily ignored. In Sinitïa’s case, the glow was too strong to ignore. He had never before seen a human with so much raw talent. Not even Felitïa had as much and Felitïa had more than any other human he had previously seen. Sinitïa’s talent exceeded even his own. It approached the level of Chiansamorkin’s, one of the most powerful—in raw talent—Isyar Jorvanultumn knew.

Normally, untrained humans with talent would never know of it. At Sinitïa’s strength, however, the possibility existed of accidentally tapping into it without realising. She could burn herself out—literally—in an instant. She needed training. No Isyar would agree to train a human, yet Jorvanultumn doubted any human teacher could handle the power they would be unleashing. He might have to teach her himself—another thing that would ostracise him from his people.

He had not yet told Meleng just how much potential Sinitïa had. He would have to tell him—and Sinitïa—eventually, and it would have to be before they reached Isyaria, as Isyar there would almost certainly react to her. Yet he worried about Sinitïa’s reaction. Her innate curiosity would likely lead to her trying to experiment with her talent, increasing the danger of her accidentally killing herself.

He would discuss it with Meleng first, and they would come up with a plan. There was time yet.

Jorvanultumn looked at his bunk. He was not going to sleep now. He was much too nervous.

Being careful not to wake Meleng or Sinitïa, he stood up and went to help on deck.