"What's happening?" someone asked.

"I don't care what's happening!" Kenward answered. "Get that hole fixed! We might live yet!"

There was a sound of relief in Kenward's voice, but Catrin knew his hope had the potential to be false. The damage to the Eel's hull was extensive. By her guess, the result of giant claws and the collision with a rough, scaled hide. Looking over the side of the ship, she could see nothing in the failing light.

A towering wave brought them high above the trough, and as they were about to race down the trailing edge, the timbers creaked again, only this time much louder. Shouts came from belowdecks as the ship took to the air. Catrin turned to Pelivor, who looked as shocked as she. Both knew there was no time to waste if they were going to capitalize on their good fortune. With practiced precision, Pelivor built his structures of energy, and the ship remained in the air, just barely clearing the whitecaps.

"You've done it!" Kenward shouted. "You've given us a fighting chance. Keep us in the air for another couple hours, and we might just be seaworthy again."

A couple hours-it might as well have been an eternity. Catrin knew they had no more than a few minutes. The world shifted between full color and a dull gray haze. Faraway voices called to her, and strong hands held her steady. In her dreams they flew across the desert, nightmarish creatures attacking from every side, and nowhere was safe. Dust curled up behind them as they flew, and Catrin could feel that this dream was different. This was a dream, yet it was real, and all of her senses were engaged. The battlefield was a maelstrom of aggression and pent-up rage, and all she could do was fly.

Black sands rose from the sea, and the Firstland looked much different to Catrin. The land had healed itself from the devastation of the tsunami, and now Catrin could see the lush forests in their true glory. Chillingly beautiful was this unforgiving land of her ancestors, with the blacks and browns of the shoreline opposite fertile greenery that blanketed the land like moss on a giant stone.

All on board kept their gazes skyward, watching for ferals, and in Catrin's case, for Kyrien. She knew he lived, knew he had helped get them airborne, yet she had not seen him, and until she saw him, the reality of his survival would not be assured to her.

The fact that the Firstland looked like a beatific and idyllic setting and all around them was still and peaceful only served to unnerve the crew further. All of them knew they had come here for a reason and they might never leave. The placid beauty seemed almost inappropriate and garish in the face of their impending doom.

It didn't help that Kenward was not speaking to Catrin. At first she'd thought him simply angry, but he had attempted to speak to her and had failed. Each time he had opened his mouth, nothing came out. Eventually he raised his arms in defeat and walked away, mumbling to himself about flying through Catrin's nightmares and holes in his deck. Catrin knew she couldn't control her dreams, especially when she was beyond exhaustion, but still she felt guilty for having traumatized Kenward and the crew. The thought of flying the ship while sleeping haunted her.

"I'm amazed you could do it at all," Pelivor had said. "How did you do it? No, wait. Don't answer that. I don't want to know."

Perhaps it was best that Catrin could not have explained it if she had tried. Somehow she had transitioned from waking to sleep without letting go of the power. She'd done it once before, in Pinook Harbor, but that was nothing as complex as keeping a ship in the air. And that seemed to be the rub. In her altered state, Catrin's mind had somehow overlaid reality with her dreams, and as she had been dodging monsters and attacks of power and fire, the Slippery Eel had been under her command. Kenward had insisted that Catrin and Pelivor sleep for at least two full nights before they attempted to fly the ship again, and even now they moved through the waves under the power of the wind alone.

Catrin knew she would need her strength for the battle ahead. Kyrien had brought her here for a reason. He'd shown her visions of pain and death, and she knew the calm would not remain. Not knowing when the darkness would come made Catrin want to climb out of her own skin, and not knowing Kyrien's true fate gnawed at her.

"You need to eat something," Pelivor insisted.

The acid in Catrin's stomach stole what appetite she had, and she shook her head. Even the smell of Grubb's fish stew did little to attract her. Kenward stood behind Pelivor, and though he still said nothing, she knew he was coming around. With his arms folded over his chest, he raised an eyebrow and tapped his foot.

Sighing, Catrin accepted the mug, thinking she would just sip it to satisfy Kenward. After a few tastes, though, her appetite returned enough to finish the mug.

"You know I love you," Kenward finally said. "But I have to admit that I'll be glad when you're off my ship. You're nothing but the worst kind of trouble, and you seem determined to kill me and sink my ship."

"It took you all this time to come up with that? You're no poet, Kenward, but I can understand you feeling that way. Still, I think you're just jealous because I've managed to endanger your crew more than you have."

Those words drove Kenward back into silence that was finally broken by Grubb's laughter. "I say we keep her on board just to shut him up!"

A look from Kenward silenced him, but his shoulders shook as he walked back to the galley.

Kenward just shook his head. "I suppose you'll want me to take you up the river toward Ri? You know, the place where the Gholgi nearly sank us the last time we were here?"

The memory was burned into Catrin's mind. She could recall every sight, smell, and sensation of that day. It was also the first time she'd been rescued by dragons.

"Yes. I suppose that is what I want. I had hoped for guidance from Kyrien, some sign as to what he needed from me, but no matter how I try, he will not respond. He's alive-I know it-but I think he is waiting for a reason, and until he's ready, we're on our own."

"It seems we face the same dilemma once again," Kenward said. "I don't have enough men to send with you and still be able to defend the ship."

"This time will be different," Catrin said. "This time I will go alone."

"But you could be facing dangers far worse than those in the past."

"True," Catrin said. "I am not as well prepared as I would have liked, but I have done everything within my power to get ready for this, and now I must simply let the bones fall where they may." Instantly Catrin regretted her choice of words. No one else seemed willing to speak in the silence that followed. "Please. Just take me to the place where you dropped me last time. I'll either be fine or I won't, but staying aboard this ship will not accomplish whatever it is I'm here to do. Now I just need to get on with it."

Members of the crew approached her one at a time, each in his or her own way and only when ready. Catrin had known them since she was a teenager; she loved them like family, and to many of them, she was an adopted daughter. To have their love and respect meant the world to Catrin, and their words bolstered her confidence. If these brave and talented men and women believed in her, then surely she could believe in herself, even if she did face an impossible task: win a battle that would take place at a time and place beyond her knowing. Her only choice was to surrender to fate and hope that her knowledge and power would sustain her. It must have shown in her eyes, given the respect she got from the crew. Even those who had nearly died for her cause in the past looked at her with new eyes, as if they only now saw her true potential and sacrifice.