Katya shinned down the rope, followed by Dunsany, Kelos and Bestion. It wasn’t just their ship that had been torn asunder; they were also missing some of their crew.

“Where’s Emuel and Ignacio?”

“I don’t know,” Dunsany said. “I haven’t seen them since the… since-”

“Since what?”

“What did happen? What’s the last thing you remember?”

They looked at each other blankly. A hot wind picked up, whipping sand about the ruins of the ship, singing through holes in the vessel.

“There was the song,” Kelos said. “Emuel said that he could hear the song. So, it was certainly sorcery of some kind. Nothing else could have brought the Llothriall here.”

“And here is?” Katya said.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen a landscape quite like this.”

Silus looked up at the cloudless sky and the one thing that had been staring them directly in the face — or, rather, hadn’t — finally hit him.

“Kelos, where has Kerberos gone?”

“I… but that’s impossible.”

All their lives the deity had looked down upon them; the vast azure sphere a permanent reminder of His watchful gaze. Without Kerberos, Silus felt lost, strangely bereft. Although it was Bestion who looked the most alarmed.

“He is gone. The Allfather is gone. This is the end.” The priest wailed.

“Don’t worry, Bestion, there’ll be a way to get back, you’ll see.” The mage turned in a circle, scanning the horizon, but everywhere looked much the same.

“Let’s gather supplies,” Dunsany said, at last giving them some purpose. “We’ll strike out and find… somewhere. This can’t be all there is.”

With half the Llothriall gone, their supplies were somewhat depleted. The galley had been cut in half, so food was scarce, though they had enough water to last several days. The remains of the sails were cut up to provide them with the makings of shelter, and bundles of broken planks would suffice as firewood should the temperature drop. There seemed little likelihood of that happening, however; as they struck away from the ruins of the ship, the sand beneath their feet burned as hot as coals.