"There is still work to do!" He raised a beefy arm.

"You men, there. Tighten up that screw until the slack has been taken up! And keep those pumps going until the cabin is completely dry! Slather on that pitch and tar until not a drop of seawater can come through! This night is not yet over!"

Looking over at K'jarr, Scars finally allowed himself a smile. The exhausted Minion warrior smiled back.

"Let's go topside!" Scars said. "The captain will need a report!"

They waded through the water and started up the gangway. Scars was desperately worried about what they would find above.

As they reached the deck, they could see that the storm had abated. With its passing, the first welcome rays of dawn crept over the horizon. Between the storm and the stresses of Faegan's portal, the Reprise had suffered badly.

Two of her masts were down, their splintered pieces rolling to and fro across the deck. The sails and sheets that had fallen with them lay in ruins. Many of the sails still aloft had great tears in them, and much of the rigging had come down. The bowsprit was missing altogether. The ship wandered east-northeasterly.

Looking back to the ship's wheel, they saw that the boatswain had at some point taken control from the captain. He struggled to keep her on a steady course. Most of the crew and warriors who had been below were now topside, hurrying about their duties. Knowing that his captain would be sure to ask, Scars ordered an immediate count of the crew and warriors.

But they could not find Tyranny or Shailiha. Fearing the worst, Scars shouted out their names. After a time he and K'jarr engaged several warriors to help them search.

Soon one of the warriors called out. Scars and K'jarr ran to the aft starboard gunwale and found the women there.

Shailiha lay prostrate on the deck. There was a bleeding gash on her forehead. Although Tyranny did not appear to be injured, it was clear that she was both physically and mentally exhausted. Both women were soaked to the skin, shivering. Tyranny was using a cloth to staunch the princess' wound.

Calling for a Minion healer, K'jarr knelt beside her, and was heartened to see that Shailiha was alert. When she saw him, she managed a smile through the pain. K'jarr took her hand.

"How bad is it?" he asked the captain.

"The wound is deep," Tyranny said. "When the second mast came down, part of it struck her. Even so, she refused to let go of the wheel. If it hadn't been for her persistence, I doubt I could have held it over by myself. We owe her much." Then she stood.

"Where do we stand?" she asked Scars.

"The rent in the hull has been repaired. The screw is still in place, and the new planks seem to be holding. I believe the breach was caused by the added stresses of Faegan's portal." Scars surveyed the damage around him. "But it seems that the rest of her hasn't fared so well."

"Have we lost any people?"

"I don't know yet," Scars said. "They are doing a count as we speak."

Turning east, Tyranny saw the rising sun. She looked back at Scars.

"Take the princess to my quarters," she ordered. "Have the Minion healers tend to her there. As soon as she has been treated, I want a report on her condition. And bring me the teak box I keep there. You know the one. Then I want a full report on our damage. We still have a mission to perform, and I intend to see it through."

She cast her gaze back over the mangled ship. "We might be down, but we're not out," she said. A hint of a smile crossed her face. "It will take more than the miscalculations of some crazy old wizard to sink the Reprise."

Scars smiled back. He picked up the princess as if she weighed nothing, turned, and carried her below decks. As the war frigate plowed her errant way east, Tyranny and K'jarr remained silent.

Scars soon reappeared carrying a large teak box. He set it upon the deck. Tyranny bent down to open it. K'jarr raised an eyebrow.

"What does it contain?" he asked.

"My navigational tools," the privateer answered. "Faegan supposedly made some alterations to them, so as to make my job easier. I can only hope that the wizard's calculations for my sextant were better than the ones he used to alter his portal," she added dryly.

The sextant was a triangular-shaped affair made of shiny brass. At one end there was a small, horizontally mounted telescope. The telescope faced two mirrors mounted on the opposite side of the apparatus. The bottom portion of the instrument was curved, and it was marked off in degrees. A lever led down from the apex of the sextant and counted off the degrees at its pointed end.

Tyranny gazed eastward through the telescope, focusing it upon the horizon. Then she moved the lever in order to align the two mirrors with both the horizon and the rising sun. Taking the sextant from her eye, she noted the number of degrees indicated by the lever. A worried look came over her face.

She reached into the box and removed her charts. She closed the lid, then spread the charts out upon it. Using her dagger to point to a position on the chart, she looked back up at Scars and K'jarr.

"It's just as I feared," she said. "By my reckoning we are a good forty leagues northwest of where Faegan's portal was supposed to deliver us. I cannot be completely sure. Now let's see what Faegan's way of doing things has to say," she said skeptically.

Tyranny pushed the point of her dagger through the chart and into the teak box, so that it was now standing upright at the location she had just calculated. Holding the sextant with one hand directly over the center of the chart, with her free hand she reached into her jacket and removed a small piece of parchment. She held it up.

"Ristutatem appricitamitat onovenatu!" she read loudly.

Almost at once her sextant began to glow with the craft. When she released it, it hovered in the brisk sea air. Then it turned in the direction of the sun. K'jarr and Scars watched in awe as the lever on the sextant began to move of its own accord. The lever seesawed back and forth a bit before it finally settled down.

Without warning, a slim azure beam suddenly shot from the base of the sextant and burned a small "X" into the parchment. Then the beam disappeared. Tyranny took the sextant from the air, and the glow surrounding it disappeared.

"How did you do that?" K'jarr asked. "It was my understanding that your blood was not endowed."

Tyranny smiled. "It isn't," she answered. "Faegan enchanted the sextant before we set sail. It responds to my voice, rather than my blood. Provided I say the Old Eutracian command properly, the sextant will do the same thing for me every time. At first I thought the old wizard was going to suffer a nervous breakdown, trying to teach me the words. He finally gave up and wrote them down for me instead." She shoved the parchment back under her jacket.

She studied the chart. The charred "X" was about ten leagues away from the calculations she had just made manually. That put their position slightly closer to the planned exit point from the portal. Running one finger southeast across the chart, she pointed to the Isle of the Citadel. She looked up at K'jarr.

"Can a warrior scouting party make the flight there and back?" she asked.

K'jarr examined the chart, then turned to stare up at the sky, noting the direction and strength of the wind.

"Yes," he answered, "provided I send our most gifted fliers. The wind will be in their faces on the outward leg. But if it holds, it will be at their backs for the return trip. Do you wish me to lead them?"

Tyranny nodded. "Make your course southeasterly. I want you to fly high and survey the Citadel without being seen. Make a count of any demonslaver vessels you might encounter. If you can capture a demonslaver, do so. Go now."

K'jarr bowed, and with a click of his heels, he was gone.