"Within that pattern lies the source of all that there is, and all that shall ever be," he said quietly. "Endowed blood."

Looking at the brand on her shoulder, he rubbed his fingers across it. "R'talis blood," he added softly. "The blood you carry, as well." He then allowed silence to speak for a time, as he sensed her trying to absorb the gravity of his words.

"But how is it that you see yourself a king?" she finally asked.

Smiling, he took one of her dark ringlets into his hand and stroked it gently. "Each time I leave this place, I come one step closer to claiming my throne," he answered cryptically. "Just as you shall soon do, for such a seat awaits you, also. All you have to do is reach out and take it, as I am doing." Lost in his thoughts for a moment, he looked away. "I have seen such wonders, Serena…"

Suddenly a knock came on the door. It was almost hesitant, as if the person on the other side did not wish to disturb them, but must. Smiling, Wulfgar turned.

"Enter," he commanded. Serena heard the bolt slide away. The huge double doors opened, and a single demonslaver entered the room. Remarkably, he was unarmed. Then the slaver did something she would never forget.

Looking at Wulfgar, the monster bowed.

"Yes?" Wulfgar asked.

"Please forgive the intrusion, but it is once again time," the slaver said simply. "He asks for you." His tone was surprisingly kind. Perhaps even subservient, Serena realized. Wulfgar nodded at the slaver, then looked back at her.

"I will return, and then we can talk more," he said. "I apologizefor locking the bolt, my love, but it is for your own good. Soon you, too, will have no need for the chambers to be secured. Just be patient."

Saying nothing more, Wulfgar left with the slaver. They closed and bolted the double doors behind them. Serena stared at the door for some time, still overcome by her lover's words.

Finally getting up and walking to the window, she realized that she had already begun to miss him. The three moons cast their magenta shimmerings upon the waters of the ocean, highlighting the tips of the ever-restless waves. Even though the transparent, azure wall separated her from the outside world, for a moment she thought she could almost smell the familiar saltiness of the sea breeze.

She tried to sort through the mysterious things Wulfgar had told her, but no answers came. As she gazed into the distance the silent waves beckoned, but provided no clues. She shook her head.

A queen, her mind repeated to her over and over again. But a queen destined to rule over whom?

As the sea crashed against the shore below, she stood there for a long time, just as Wulfgar had done, her mind lost in the maze of complexities that had been laid before her.

L ying on his back on one of the white marble tables of the Scriptorium, Wulfgar looked calmly up into Krassus' dark eyes. He was not tied down this time, for there was no longer any need for such crude measures. The Scroll of the Vagaries hovered close by, glowing with the power of the craft. Krassus smiled.

"Are you ready?" he asked simply.

"Yes," came the willing, eager answer.

"You're beginning to love the way you feel, are you not?"

"Yes."

"Tell me, then," Krassus asked. "What is it that you want?"

"I want more."

Smiling, the wizard resumed his work.

Forty-nine

A s the first rays of dawn crept down through the strange, unmoving fog surrounding the Isle of Sanctuary, Tristan stood wearily against the gunwale of the People's Revenge. He had been up all night helping with the repairs, and he was exhausted. Letting out a deep breath, he hoped that their labors would be enough to let them survive another day.

He desperately needed to get the parchment hidden in his boot back to the wizards, but he was beginning to doubt whether he would live long enough to make that happen. So far there had been no sign of the pirates, but he knew that couldn't last much longer. Every moment that passed decreased their chances of escape.

Late the previous afternoon they had arrived back at their ships without incident, Scars still holding the unconscious Rolf over the front of his saddle. After boarding the vessels and tying Rolf securely to one of the masts, Tristan had convinced Tyranny to order her three ships to another location, well within the depths of the fog bank. But when he had tried to convince her of his other suggestion, her face had darkened and she had proven far more stubborn. In a way he understood her concerns, for there were parts of his plan he didn't care for, either. In fact, had Scars not finally agreed with him, he probably wouldn't have made any headway with her at all.

"I won't do it!" she had shouted loudly into the darkness of the nighttime fog, stamping one boot against the deck of The People's Revenge. They hadn't dared light the ships' lanterns, but in the rose-colored moonlight, Tristan could easily see the anger on her face. Her sharp jaw stuck out angrily.

"I didn't come all this way just to leave them behind!" Defiantly she folded her arms across her breasts. "Only the Afterlife knows what will become of them if I do! Frankly, you surprise me! What you managed to do back there in the Wing and Claw was wonderful, and I will be forever grateful for it, but what you ask of me now I will not grant!"

"I know how you feel, Tyranny," Tristan countered gently, trying to calm her down. "But my story won't hold up long, and I fear they may come for us anytime now, rather than keep their side of our so-called 'bargain.' If we are ever to get out of here in one piece, we must start work right away. If we are forced to try to outrun them in our current condition we are done for-you said so yourself. I know you don't want to leave anyone behind, but you must trust me when I tell you that this is the only way."

Tristan's plan was admittedly desperate. It involved cannibalizing the other two vessels and repairing The People's Revenge with what they had stripped from them. Then the remaining slaves and skeleton crews would be brought aboard, the other two ships would be scuttled, and Tyranny's flagship would set sail for Eutracia.

He knew full well that if they did this they would be packed to the rigging with extra crewmen, freed slaves, and provisions, and that that would drastically slow them down. Still, it was all he could think of that might gain them some semblance of a fighting chance. Back in the Wing and Claw he had never really expected the pirates to keep their end of the deal. His entire scheme had only been about getting away safely and buying some time.

But Tyranny would have none of what he was proposing. Knowing they were wasting precious time, he looked over to Scars and silently beseeched the faithful giant to agree with him. Finally, Scars relented and cleared his throat.

"I fear he may be right, Captain. We have just enough material from the two other ships to get the job done. If we start now and everyone lends a hand, we may be able to finish before dawn and leave before the pirates are any the wiser. Sometimes one simply has to know when to cut one's losses and move on. This seems to be one of those times."

Her face still a mask of grim determination, Tyranny continued to glare at them.

"I believe it's what your late father would do, were he here with us today," Scars added.

Tristan looked over again at the first mate, and each of them knew what the other was thinking. In order to get this done, they could simply tie Tyranny up and lock her belowdecks, he supposed, as long as her crew went along with it. But something in his heart wouldn't let him. They were all stronger with her than without her, and he wanted the ship's captain to be a willing part of whatever they did.