The Scrolls of Skava

Return to the Emerald Oracle - Part 2

     The Claimjumpers on the first carpet climbed to a high altitude, wanting to be unseen from the ground, urged the carpet to its maximum speed and were soon skimming just above a layer of wispy haze, the freezing, high altitude winds whipping their hair back and stinging their faces.

     They were soon over the sea again, following the chain of islands out away from the safety and security of the shoreline. Thomas had a hastily drawn map of the Lonely Isles gripped tightly in his hands, copied from a world atlas at Redhill, and he crossed each island off with a piece of charcoal as they passed over it. It was indeed fortunate that the island of the Emerald Oracle was part of an island chain, mused the wizard as he watched the jagged, black, wave dashed rocks passing by below them. If the island had been in the middle of the ocean, even without its curtain of invisibility, they might have searched for days and never found it. The Oracle had positioned itself well, he realised. It wanted to be found, even if only by people of courage and determination. It mustn’t be too easy, of course, but it must at least be possible.

     They saw sailing ships beneath them as well, only visible as tiny squares of sail from this altitude but numerous enough for them to realise that the Fourth Shadowwar had not yet had much of an impact this far south. Thomas was willing to bet that there were people living on those islands down there who hadn’t even heard of the war, who had no way of knowing that things were any different now than they’d ever been. He imagined hoary old sailors setting out in their tiny, barnacle-encrusted fishing boats. Hanging out nets, pulling them in full of wriggling fish. Shading their eyes with rope calloused hands to watch the weather and eventually returning home to where their wives and families were waiting anxiously on the quayside to welcome them. Going through all the little routines of life week after week, month after month, year after year, and all the time not a single thought of war or violence entering their heads. None of them having the slightest inkling of how close the whole world was to a disaster beyond their comprehension. So far as they were concerned, Thomas suspected, they’d been following this way of life ever since the beginning of time and would carry on living the same way for the rest of eternity. It was incomprehensible, literally unthinkable, that anything might happen to change things, and Thomas found himself envying them bitterly.

     An hour after leaving the shoreline, the unmistakable outline of Greenwing Island appeared ahead of them, bringing back vivid memories of their first visit, just over a year before. “Here we are,” said Shaun, shouting to be heard above the rushing of the wind. “Still remember the way?”

     “Yes,” shouted back Thomas. “Position yourself above the central mountain, head in the direction of Arn and keep going. Simple.” It had been the mad woman of Andor who’d given them those instructions, after they’d narrowly escaped being turned into her dinner, and Jerry had paid for the information with seven years of his life. You bet he remembered! He looked over at Diana, and she reached over and squeezed his hand. She remembered as well.

     They circled around Greenwing Island’s central peak while Thomas consulted his map and picked out the smaller island of Arn, and then they flew off towards it. A few minutes later they passed Arn and Thomas and Diana kept watch behind to make sure they were still going in the right direction, with Greenwing Mountain directly behind the highest point of the smaller island. Below them, they saw the narrow channel through the jagged black rocks that they’d navigated so carefully and fearfully on their first visit, visible from this altitude only as spots and patches of leaping surf almost lost in the immensity of the sapphire blue ocean. Those rocks had been such an obstacle last time that they’d almost been forced to turn back, unaware of how close they were to their objective, but now they flew above them as freely and easily as a soaring seagull. It made Thomas’s heart soar as well at the very thought of it.