The Armada

Marak had bundled himself in a heavy cloak, but the cold air still ripped at his body. His exposed fingers felt numb, and he could no longer feel his ears. The wind tore by at a rate faster than he had ever experienced before. Marak glanced down at the clouds below him. Small patches of the sea were sometimes visible, but Marak worried that they would not find the hidden armada.

“Perhaps we should fly lower?” suggested the Torak. “I don’t want to miss Vand’s ships.”

“We will miss nothing,” Myka snorted. “Ships are much slower than I am. What takes them days to cover, I can do in hours. When we reach the area where it might be possible to find them, I will go lower and slower.”

“I hope it will be warmer then,” quipped the Torak. “It is freezing up here.”

“And I thought you were half Chula?” retorted Myka. “The cold air is refreshing. It will invigorate your body.”

“If my body ever thaws,” replied Marak.

They flew on in silence for a while before Marak felt Myka slowing down. The clouds rushed up past him as he gazed downward. Suddenly the clouds disappeared as the dragon descended out of them. There was nothing below them but deep blue water.

“Did you see anything?” asked the Torak.

“Not yet,” answered Myka. “Have faith in your winged warrior, Torak. We will find them.”

The dragon rose into the clouds again and picked up speed. Every so often the dragon would dip below the clouds for a quick look around. Finally, Marak saw the armada, and it was massive. Hundreds of ships bobbed upon the ocean like a large school of tiny fish. The sails spread out to the far horizon.

“Merciful Kaltara!” exclaimed the Torak. “I cannot imagine trying to repel such a force. Where are the skimmers?”

“I do not see them,” answered Myka, “but they are much smaller. We might have to go lower to see them.”