“There is wisdom in Temiker’s words,” frowned Emperor Marak. “Vand would gladly allow us to keep Alamar for now, if he could kill the Star of Sakova. How many dead Motangans is Lyra worth? A thousand? Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? Vand would gladly pay any of those numbers to destroy the Star of Sakova.”

“Are you saying that I should run and hide my precious body while evil armies overrun my cities?” scowled Lyra. “The Torak certainly would not. I can easily picture you leading your troops into battle.”

“There is nothing I would like more,” admitted Emperor Marak, “but I know that I cannot be allowed to do that recklessly. I am not saying that you should hide, Lyra. I am saying that you must measure the risk carefully. Your life is not yours to throw away. Neither is mine. We did not ask for this, but we have to live with it. I only ask you to be very cautious.”

Lyra’s lips pressed tightly together as she nodded in understanding. She hugged Marak and wished him a safe journey home.

Chapter 3

Skimmers

Premer Doralin stood on the bow of the ship, his smile broad as his eyes gazed over the breadth of his fleet of ships. The lookout, high above the deck of the ship, had just reported that the peaks of the Wytung Mountains had been sighted on the horizon. The premer immediately walked to the bow so that he would be able to see the peaks as they appeared. He was eagerly awaiting his first view of the mainland when the lookout shouted again.

Doralin gazed upward to see the lookout pointing to the south. The premer turned and gazed to port. Scores of huge ships bobbed atop the water, but he saw nothing amiss. He shielded his eyes from the sun and still could see nothing alarming. He turned and grabbed an officer who was walking by.