Turning his back on the devastation, the sorcerer stared into the calm waters of the lake, channelling the energy surrounding him into its depths. At the same time, he envisioned the Llothriall — the vastly-treasured ship that Katherine Makennon had tasked him to retrieve.

A cool wind blew against his face and he could hear the crash and hiss of rolling surf. At first, just the merest sketch of a ship was visible above the lake, picked out in pale silver lines. If Brother Sequilious squinted, he could just make out the prow, rearing above him as though cresting the swell of a wave. But then it was gone, and, as the wind dropped, the sorcerer desperately clutched for the contact he had briefly made.

There it was again.

The sound of the sea was suddenly, shockingly loud, and Brother Sequilious staggered back as mountainous waves rose up all around him. He mustn’t lose his focus though, else the Llothriall would be forever lost. He stood in two locations at once — one below the ground, one above the waves, far from here — and, as the last of the villagers burned out behind him, he tried to bring these worlds together.

CHAPTER TWO

There was no escape from the heat. For over a week now, the Llothriall had been becalmed, the sea an emerald mirror upon which they sat, seemingly unmoving. As the days grew longer, the temperature began to rise, and the crew escaped below deck, although even here there was no respite. With not a cloud in the sky, water had to be rationed; often, tempers would fray. Several times, Dunsany and Ignacio got into blazing rows, some so intense that Silus had to intervene. Once, when Katya had tried to calm Ignacio herself, the ex-smuggler had turned on her, shortly thereafter finding himself incapacitated and locked in a store room. Four hours confined in the stifling darkness had insured that Ignacio never lashed out again