After the rest of the family departed from the meeting, Warian's eyes were drawn to the carts stacked with delicacies. He hated to see good food go to waste. Time for an impromptu feast. Warian was poking away at a plate of pickled mushrooms when Zel popped into the room.

His uncle began to heap a plate with delicacies. Warian ignored him.

Zel reached for the platter of pickled mushrooms. Without turning his head, he whispered, "Eined got out of Vaelan earlier today." "What?"

"I had agents watching the docks. Turns out Xaemar has people searching for Eined, too, but she's got herself some allies. They took ship and departed. A regular seafaring ship. Anyway, she's safe."

"Where'd she go? Who was with her?" Zel shrugged. "Sounds like she may be heading out to see Shaddon." Warian paused. He'd decided to refuse a trip to the mine site, despite Xaemar's order-or rather, because of it. But if Eined was headed for the Tooth, then he would follow. In the skyship, he'd probably get there ahead of her. He grinned. Relief flooded him. He couldn't wait to see his sister again and catch up on family gossip.

The mountain-bounded wizard state far to the west called Halruaa was famous for its gold mines, its fiery wine, and most of all, its vessels that sailed on air instead of water. The wizards of Halruaa jealously guarded the secret of skyship manufacture, keeping the advantages of air travel for Halruaa alone. But like all national treasures, an adequate sum of cash deposited into the proper pocket was sufficient to temporarily suspend Halruaan law, long enough for wealthy entrepreneurs across the Shining South to pay for and receive one or more custom-built Halruaan skyships. The Datharathi family was nothing if not wealthy. It secured three skyships for its personal use. The Datharathis used their precious skyships only for urgent business, and then only if a family member was aboard. Warian had ridden a family skyship on several occasions before he'd fled Vaelan.

Of all the things he'd left behind, he most missed the thrill of sailing the sky. Despite Warian's protests at leaving Vaelan so soon after arriving, he was excited to be aloft again. Only one thing soured the trip-Warian wished for one less Datharathi passenger. Aunt Sevaera had boarded at the last moment. He disliked the woman at least as much as he disliked the rest of the family elders. No, he realized, he had a particular dislike for Sevaera. He hated the way she sometimes slathered him with her unearned motherly-but-paper-thin concern. He saw right through her facade. She did it hoping to find one more lever to influence him. Warian stood at the skyship's railing as it lifted up and away from the broad platter of twinkling lights below. He'd been in Vaelan for only a few days. But he was certain that Shaddon had the answers he sought concerning his arm. His grandfather would know how to regulate the newfound power that Warian could sometimes trigger. He hoped he could enjoy the arm's heightened ability at a moderate, steady level rather than the all-or-nothing explosion of energy he had experienced, an expenditure that left him so drained he feared death would follow overuse. A cool wind, comfortable after the day's heat, brushed his face as he watched Vaelan fall away. The vast, dark gulf of the Golden Water was not so golden after the sun had fallen well below the horizon. They'd reach the mine by morning-Adama's Tooth. That was where Warian had been fitted with his prosthesis. Warian shifted his gaze away from the vista and back toward the deck. He'd ridden this skyship, called Stormsailer, before. Stormsailer's architecture was like a standard sailing vessel, and her crew was similar. Three masts, square sailed, rose above him, reaching for the stars. The main difference between the skyship and a regular watercraft were the plates affixed beneath the ship, carved from the shells of Halruaan sea turtles and invested with Halruaan spells that produced extraordinary lift. The crew saw to the needs of the ship under the direction of Captain Darsson, a Halruaan native with experience in wizardry-enough experience to control the ship. The deck was quiet, and Sevaera was nowhere to be seen. She'd apparently slipped off to her cabin while Warian had engrossed himself with the ship's launch. Good. He turned back to the bow and watched the receding lights along the coast of the Golden Water. The stars were bright, but washed out by a bright moon to port.

Ahead, moonlight was smothered in a layer of roiling thunderheads.

He'd seen the great clouds on the horizon before the sun sank.

Somewhere ahead, a mighty storm raged. The wind picked up abruptly, slapping Warian's face. Cool and refreshing earlier, it turned cruel and biting. Warian stepped away from the bow and headed for his cabin on the port. The cabins on Stormsailer set aside for Datharathi family members were fitted with great glass portholes that offered a spectacular exterior view-nearly as good as the view from the deck railing. The cabins had the added advantage of being heated. Warian's cabin was directly across from Sevaera's. Her door was closed, but he saw light leaking beneath it and heard the tinkling notes of her harp.

His aunt loved to play, but had never been as good as she supposed.

Warian was surprised at the proficiency and grace of the music he heard. His aunt had improved a lot in five years. He wondered if it was due to practice or her plangent upgrade. Probably the latter.

Strange. His own door was closed, as he'd left it, but no light spilled beneath it. When he'd dropped off his pack, he'd lit a lantern and left it burning precisely so he wouldn't have to return to a dark cabin. At least, he thought he had. Maybe the oil was used up? Warian pushed the door open and entered. Moonlight streamed in through the wide porthole, giving him more than enough light to maneuver through the tight space. Even though he had just been on deck, he walked directly to the porthole and gazed out. The moonlight rippled across the otherwise dark plane of water below. From this vantage, he couldn't see the shoreline at all. In fact… The door creaked behind him and gently snicked shut. Warian swung around and saw someone standing inside his cabin. "Hey!" Warian yelled, startled. "Shush!" whispered the figure urgently. Warian saw a moonlit hand touch the intruder's lips, urging quiet. "You'd better…" "I said keep quiet, Nephew," the voice said, louder. It was a familiar voice. "Zel?" asked Warian, incredulity prodding him off-balance. "None other. I'll thank you if you don't say that again so loudly." "Why?" "Has your absence made you thick?" his uncle whispered. "No one knows I'm on board. I aim to keep it that way." "You outrank her-Sevaera, I mean-in the family council. I don't understand. Surely you don't have to hide from her." Disdain curdled Warian's voice as he said his aunt's name.

"You've been gone a long time, Nephew. New ways for new days-things have changed in the family council. I occupy a rung only one up from your missing sister Eined. Come to think of it, you're probably higher than me." "That's crazy." Warian moved forward and pulled a burning coal from an iron pot below the lamp to relight the wick. Only the finest accoutrements for House Datharathi's private skyship, after all. "Is it? You have a crystal prosthesis. You're no plangent, true enough, but in the eyes of the others, you're more like them than not." "Only plangents can wield power in the family business?"

Zeltaebar nodded. "Then why don't you take the implant?" "Because something's wrong. I wouldn't take that crystal into my body if you paid me my life trust in one payment." Warian was surprised. For Zel to walk away from money and power, the reason would have to be spectacular. Warian had left behind his own trust for ideological reasons, but in his experience, Zel was less principled. In fact, he had always felt that his uncle was motivated primarily by money.