OoOoO
The next morning, Lhara was ready and waiting to pounce before Jath ever so much as put a foot on the stairs between the StormRider's decks.
"What are we now?" she demanded, cornering him beside the quarterdeck ladder.
Jath, narrow-eyed against the glare of dawn at sea, was already protectively tucked beneath the hood of his threadbare cloak. The bluntness of Lhara's question startled him, and he instinctively drew his hood up even further.
"Erm...your pardon? I'm not sure I understand..."
Undeterred, Lhara pressed on. "You and I. What are we to each other now? You kissed me...well, I guess we kissed each other. I mean, it's not like I haven't kissed people before, but I get the feeling that what happened last night wasn't just for kissing's own sake. Or are things different in – where did you say you grew up? – Vaelona, or other Gorian cities?"
"Well, I suppose-"
"Because in Trosk, a kiss doesn't mean much of anything, unless you agree to make it more. But we also didn't just go around passing them out as friendly gestures. The butcher's son and I kissed once, but that was more because I was curious than anything else. With you, last night, that was more than curiosity, at least for my part. If we were in Trosk, we'd be deciding now if we wanted to court, or if we actually didn't mean anything more by it. Which is fine, if that's what you want! Not every kiss has to lead to courtship, in fact most don't!"
"Erm, I'm not-"
It was at that exact moment that Reyson, who had already been up since before dawn, passed by carrying an armload of canvas with Ebn. The eyebrow he raised at the two of them provoked an immediate blush from Jath. Lhara was quick to read into the rather frantic expression on Jath's face.
"You needn't worry though; I promise I won't be upset if you didn't mean anything by it. In fact, it's not my usual habit to go mooning after boys...erm, sorry, men. I won't lie and pretend not to like you, Jath, because I do. Why, I'm still trying to figure out, especially since we met the way we did. I've never met anybody like you before though, and perhaps that's part of it. All the boys around Trosk were always so loud and busy and practically like extended kin. You're so different from any of them, with your voice and your manners and your secrets. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, while of course I don't expect anything of you that you don't want to give, I would like our kiss to mean more than just a kiss. You understand?"
All the while Lhara had been talking, Jath's pale, sunburnt face had gone from startled to shy to wondering. Just then, Yidu came popping up from the hold, all bright teeth and dark cheeks quirked in a cheery grin. Startled, Jath and Lhara scuttled out of the way into the shadow of the captain's cabin. Whatever she had been about to say, it didn't take Yidu more than a second to realize that she had surfaced in the midst of a rather intense conversation. With a quick sidestep she changed course, veering off in search of breakfast instead of company.
At length, Jath finally seemed to recover enough to find his tongue. Reaching out, he took Lhara's hands in his. A hopeful light began to shimmer in his colorless eyes as he led her toward the relative privacy of the port rail.
"Lhara...will you marry me?"
Lhara was so taken aback, she couldn't help it; her mouth fell slack open. Even less could she prevent her next reaction. A giggle of incredulous laughter came rushing out of her chest, high-pitched and childlike. To her immediate guilt and horror, Jath quickly dropped her hands and stepped back, looking thoroughly ashamed of himself.
"I...oh stars...Jath, marry you?! But it was only just a kiss! We haven't known each other but a matter of weeks, barely even months." The resigned sadness emanating off of Jath made Lhara curious. No man of Trosk would have reacted in such a way to such a reasonable – practically predictable - rejection. "Is...is that how they do such things in Vaelona?" she asked gently.
"Not usually." Seeing Lhara's honest confusion, Jath seemed to revive a tiny bit. "Amongst Vaelonese nobility, most marriages are arranged by the families before the bride and bridegroom come of age. In fact, it's often the style for young men and women to make a joint celebration of their wedding and their twentieth birthday. When a couple does choose each other out on their own though, they don't usually show overt affection until they're either engaged...or soon intending to be."
"But how do they know they're interested in each other unless they show affection??"
Now it was Jath's turn to look incredulous. "There are other ways to express interest besides physical affection. Spending time alone together, talking, sharing hobbies, playing games, those sorts of things. In fact, most young nobles don't even spend that kind of time together until their engagement is secured between their families. And even then, the couple is usually supervised by an older relative." A pink blush began to crawl up Jath's cheeks again. "Being alone together without a chaperone is considered...well...very intimate, to say the least."
Comprehension tinged with amusement was beginning to break through in Lhara's mind. "So...the whole trip from Trosk to Falerik, when we were alone together, talking and playing the Tale of Tales..."
"The very definition of Vaelonese courtship. Far more so, in fact."
Whether by design or honest need, it was then that the bosun Irbu came down the ladder from the quarterdeck nearby. Sweat was already dewed across the top of his bald head like mountain dew on volcanic rock. At Lhara and Jath's questioning looks, he gestured to the rigging behind them.
"Just need to get to checking the pulleys for salt...This boat's been at sea a while." He indicated the lines behind where they stood. Sure enough, a fine white crust of salt could be seen around the grooves of the blocks and turnbuckles.
"Oh! Sorry!" Lhara exclaimed. "We didn't mean to be in your way."
"Ts'fine, no problem. Madame Kiiss paid for your passage anyhow, so you needn't worry about feeling underfoot."
Seeing Reyson hard at work amongst the sailors and Yidu helping to carry the breakfast dishes back down to the galley, Lhara and Jath both squirmed self-consciously anyways. A quick glance at one another confirmed that they were, indeed, underfoot and feeling guilty about it.
"Would you like any help cleaning the pulleys, Irbu?"
Lhara's offer seemed to be precisely what the bosun had been fishing for. Beaming at the two of them, he clapped them on the shoulders and nodded.
"Well if you're offering, then yas, that would be grand! Go find yourselves buckets of water with a splash of vinegar from the galley, as well as some hard-bristled brushes. We'll set you to work on the main deck first."
"First?" asked Jath cautiously.
"Sure, tackle the big deck first. Then there's the fore-deck, the quarterdeck, the poop-deck..."
Suddenly, the StormRider seemed an enormous vessel. Lhara recalled wishing it were bigger when she had first seen the size of the bunks in the hold. Now, she thought they could have cheerfully made do with a simple dhow.
OoOoO
Half an hour later found Jath and Lhara, bristle-brushes in hand, hard at work scrubbing (or rather, attempting to scrub) the built-up salt off the blocks and pulleys of the StormRider. Time and the relentless southern sun had dried salty sea spray onto everything, lifting away the water and leaving behind a white crust that clung as determinedly as any lichen. Lhara had yet to move on from her first block, and was beginning to get the feeling this might be a never-ending task.
Eventually giving up that particular block as 'good enough', Lhara sideled up to Jath where he leaned against the railing, trying to reach around the outside of particularly crusty turnbuckle.
"So...by your reckoning...we've more or less been an engaged couple ever since we left Trosk?"
Aware of the presence of sailors nearby, Jath kept his voice somewhat lower than earlier. Also wisely, he softened the revelation as best he could.
"Not exactly, Lhara. I did have a suspicion that your customs in Trosk might not be the same as Vaelona's nobility. I swear to you, I did not approach our contracted journey to Falerik with such expectations. As time went on though...you didn't seem to shun my company...even seemed to welcome it, at times, I began to wonder. Then, when you stood up for me before the deal with Xolani and Oesu, you seemed so...well...surprised that my leaving your side was even a consideration. Still though, I wasn't certain, even after our kiss last night. I thought, just in case, it might be best that I formally ask you for your hand, and make sure that we were both on the same page. I apologize though, it seems I was wrong."
Lhara was torn between shock and excitement. That Jath had spent the entire past month and some believing they were actively courting came as a surprise, to say the least. A part of her even wanted to be angry that the once-Factionist could be so presumptuous. An even larger, louder part of her was a riot of butterflies and bubbles. Not only did Jath want to court her, he wanted to marry her. As a Wise Woman's apprentice, and then with the Battle of Trosk and everything that followed, notions of romance and marriage had been literally the furthest thing from Lhara's mind of late. To have someone – and not just 'someone', Jath! –here in front of her, his heart on offer, was surprisingly tempting.
"So we weren't on the same page," she said slowly. "Not even in the same book, for that matter. Why don't we start by at least trying to speak the same language?
"What do you mean?" asked Jath. Now neglected, his salt-encrusted turnbuckle rattled forlornly at them.
"You've told me how such things are done in Vaelona. Perhaps I ought to tell you now how we handled them in Trosk?"
"Yes, please!" Jath exclaimed, clearly relieved that Lhara was still even speaking to him.
"Well, to begin with-"
"To begin with, you two could at least find somewhere out of everybody's way to have this discussion!"
Reyson's rocky grumble brought both Lhara and Jath's heads spinning around. Already well on his way to a sailor's tan, the swordsman stood with his hands on his hips, a coil of rope slung across one shoulder and a disapproving scowl darkening his brow.
"We are out of the way!" Lhara protested. "We're even helping Irbu clean the rigging, see?" As proof, she waved her bristle-brush at Reyson, sending droplets of vinegar scented water sprinkling across the deck.
Reyson hardly seemed impressed. "That kind of lovers' talk will keep until later, especially if there's any real weight behind it. You'd think we were on a holiday to the Syrinese baths, instead of acting as diplomatic envoys on a mission of rebellion."
"Pah, let them alone!" Ebn, the First Mate, chuckled as he passed by on his way to join Captain Dagaan at the helm. "Young folk will find ways to be young no matter what the times. Come be old and grumpy with me on the quarterdeck!"
With one more disapproving roll of his eyes, Reyson let Ebn tug him by the elbow toward the ladder. That left Lhara and Jath, determinedly scrubbing away at salty residue with matching embarrassed blushes.
"You'd think he'd never indulged in any 'lovers' talk', even when he was young!" muttered Lhara under her breath.
"He was right about one thing though."
"What?"
Jath shot Lhara a sideways look from beneath the cowl of his hood. "This conversation will keep. As Reyson said, there is real weight behind it...for my part at least."
With a pleased grin that turned her sunburnt neck and ears even pinker, Lhara went back to chipping away at the rigging.
"Agreed. It will keep."
OoOoO
Later that day, after the blazing Undorian sun had passed its highest point and begun its long, arching journey toward the western horizon, Lhara finally decided that, like her unfinished conversation with Jath, the salt-encrusted rigging would keep for another day. Jath had been forced to beat a retreat below decks some hours ago, or else face the choice between sweltering under his hood or baking as red as a Utunman lobster. Lhara was not without company though. She found Yidu at the stern, sitting comfortably in main sail's shade as she fished off the back of the StormRider.
"Here! Come give it a try!" Yidu beckoned Lhara to come sit beside her. Nearby, an already half-full basket of silvery red fish sat dripping onto the deck. Yidu's long dark legs dangled out over the churning spray in the StormRider's wake, only a narrow set of railings separating them from the vast emptiness of the sea. The stripe of green coastline visible from the starboard rail did nothing to reassure Lhara. Swimming was hardly among the skill set of a shepherd from The Teeth. Or among the skill set of a Wise Woman, for that matter.
"Eh...that's alright Yidu. The back of the ship always makes me nervous."
"Would it help if I promised not to push you off?"
Yidu was only teasing, but Lhara made no move to come any closer to the railing regardless.
"Otch! If I didn't know Reyson, I'd say you inlanders have no nerve at all when it comes to the sea! Alright then, give me a moment..."
Despite Lhara's insistence that she didn't mean to pull Yidu away from her fishing, the younger girl set about securing her pole to the nearest railing. Hopping lithely to her feet, Yidu joined Lhara instead to sit on a bench at the front of the poop deck. From there they had a first-class view of Dagaan at the helm, as well as the goings-on of the entire quarter and main decks below.
"What if you catch something?" asked Lhara, gesturing to Yidu's fishing rod.
"Don't worry, I've got it. If anything bites, I'll be over there quick as a dolphin!"
Lhara laughed. "Are all souther-sorry, Undorians as comfortable on water as you?"
"Mmm, just about." Yidu shrugged. "It's easy not to fear the water when it's always there, part of your every memory. Like you mountainfolk and The Teeth, yas?"
"Well, when you put it like that! But even the mountainfolk know to give the mountains the respect they're owed. Everyone in Trosk knows better than to climb alone, or after dark. Well, just about everyone... We also know how to read the clouds for signs of storms, and stay close to home when they come."
"Exactly as we do when it comes to the sea. Our lives are built around the ocean's every whim. Not many fishermen would make it home if they didn't understand how to read the moods of the water."
"You know," Lhara said thoughtfully. "It seems to me that the sea is to your folk as the mountains are to mine. Beautiful, life-giving, powerful..."
"...And dangerous," finished Yidu. Then she laughed. "Keep up with that kind of talk, and we'll have to find a shaman to tell you more. They know the ways of the water best."
"Why aren't there any shamans in Utunma?" asked Lhara.
Abruptly, Yidu's cheery face fell, and Lhara's worried that she'd somehow misspoken. After a moment of silence though, Yidu explained.
"I thought someone would have told you? No? General Vinie, her husband was the last one."
"Gideo StarGazer?!"
"Oh no! Sorry, I meant her first husband. It would have been...oh, a long time ago, when I was still little. The general was married to a man named Zaneo SeaSon, who was at the time apprenticed to Wasani, Utunma's old shaman. Do you know what a SeaSon is?
Lhara shook her head.
"They're very rare. The capital...I mean Goran's capital, Amenthere, takes them away as children and trains them to be Blue Obads."
"Vinie's first husband was an Obad?!"
Again, Yidu's expression turned sad. "No, because he never went to Amenthere to be taught. His family kept his gifts secret, and brought him up at home in Utunma. When he got older, Zaneo was apprenticed to Wasani as a shaman. The secret of what he was got out though, and the royal magistrate had Zaneo, Vinie, Wasani, and Zaneo's parents arrested."
"Arrested!" Lhara's cry of dismay caught the attention of several nearby sailors, and she winced apologetically. "But why?"
"Because it's illegal to hide an Obad, at least by Gorian law. Don't the people in Trosk know about the laws?"
"Well...yes? I suppose? We don't really think about the capital's laws all that often, to be honest. I don't know as there's ever been an Obad born in Trosk either."
Yidu raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Never? A people as close to the land as we are to the sea, and not one Green Obad? Or a Grey Obad? Are you certain?"
"I'm afraid so. We are a very small village, after all, and like you said, Obads are very rare."
"Ah well, perhaps soon. Maybe by then they won't have to be hidden or taken away to Amenthere! You'll be a Wise Woman; you could teach them, as Wasani taught Vinie's husband."
"Oh, I don't know about that Yidue...my Ættartré is still empty, and I wouldn't know a thing about the Obad's magic."
"Your what?" Yidu cocked her head curiously.
"My Ættartré. I guess you could call them my people's sacred symbol. One hangs over the door of every house, its spokes woven with threads spun from the hairs of each person who lives there." Lhara thought of the little hoop tucked in the bottom of her back, the last physical piece of her parents and older brother Marden that she had in this world. Her chest tightened dangerously, and she had to look away, blinking her eyes as dry as those of the fish in Yidu's basket.
"And yours is empty?" Yidu prompted gently.
"The one I wear, yes. It's also the symbol of the Wise Women and High Elders. As an apprentice journeys toward becoming a Wise Woman and learns new skills, she adds runes to the outer circle of the Ættartré. When the wheel is full, she is ready to be initiated, and eventually to one day take her teacher's place."
As Lhara spoke, she shifted around on the bench until her back was to Yidu. Gathering up the frizzed mess of her half-wild braid, she lifted the hair out of the way. A part of her was proud to show the other girl the rune-wheel which Magda had tattooed on the nape of her neck. Another part was quietly embarrassed by what Lhara knew was a novice's blank Ættartré.
With a surprisingly reverent touch, Yidu traced the circle of the mark. It was a blisteringly hot day, but the fine hairs still rose along Lhara's arms and back.
"You say an apprentice adds runes as she learns the skills of her craft?"
"Yes," said Lhara. "I'm afraid though, without Magda, I'm not likely to add any runes until I go back to Trosk someday." Yidu touched a spot somewhere around what Lhara guessed to be the top of the Ættartré. "Didn't Ahati teach you all about the water plants and their uses?"
"I suppose so, although that might be hard to make use of in Trosk."
"Still counts. And what about during the Uprising at Utunma? All that work you did for the wounded must surely count as a lesson of the hardest kind."
Lhara hung her head, remembering all the pain and suffering of that day. "I can't imagine I did much good there, Yidu. Oesu and Kiiss knew just about as much as I did."
"Not to hear Kiiss tell it. Your teacher may not be here, but I say that you've learned two new things at least since you came to Undor. And, you've got a ship full of the world's best SkinPainters right here! Just look at Halwii! I'll bet he could add to your tattoo as easy as floating!"
"Did I hear someone say my name?"
As if conjured from thin air, Halwii suddenly slid down a rope all the way from the mizzen mast. The multitude of tattoos across his arms, shoulders, and bare chest certainly made a strong case for the prowess of Undorians when it came to skin art. The curling tentacles around his jaw were detailed and life-like, so much so that Lhara could never quite get used to seeing them framing the boy's face.
Yidu rolled her eyes. "If you're going to lurk around eavesdropping, you may as well come down and be helpful. Are you any good at SkinPainting?"
"Sure I am! I had the SkinPainters in Moaan do my back and shoulders, but all this..." he indicated his chest, forearms, and neck "...is all me."
"Want to take a commission?"
Halwii's grin in answer to Yidu's question was pure satisfaction. "Does a fish swim? Let me go tell Ebn I'm taking my last break early, and get my kit. What're you wantin', a first tattoo? Don't worry, I'll be gentle."
Yidu, unlike most Undorians, did not appear to have any skin art, or at least none visible. She wrinkled her nose at Halwii's appraising look.
"Not for me, for her! She needs adding to one she's already got."
"Ohh, really?" Halwii cocked his head curiously at Lhara. "I didn't think inlanders wore tattoos."
"Well, this one does. So, are you getting your kit or no?" Yidu persisted.
"Yas yas, I'll be right back!"
As Halwii jogged down to the quarterdeck to speak to Ebn, Lhara tugged shyly tugged the edge of Yidu's vest. "Are you sure it's alright? Halwii's right; I'm not Undorian, and SkinPainting is your people's art."
Yidu winked. "Otch, it's fine! Half these sailor types fancy themselves SkinPainters-in-the-making, and love a chance to practice art. Besides, you already had your Ættar-thing, so SkinPainting seems to be something your people and mine have in common. Just don't let him charge you more than four luns for this, yas? That's a fair price, and not an ignum more!"
OoOoO
Less than an hour and many, many pokes from a SkinPainting needle later, and at last Halwii sat back with a hum of satisfaction. Lhara had spent the entire time sitting on the deck between Halwii's knees, head bent forward and hair tied up. Now, as she began to straighten up, her spine let out several sharp cricks of protest. The nape of her neck itched and burned, the skin stretching uncomfortably with each movement as if pulled taut. None of this got in the way of a sudden feeling of pride. Her Ættartré was no longer blank; she had taken her first steps toward becoming a Wise Woman.
"How does it look, Yidu?" she asked.
"Almost as good as a proper SkinPainter would do!" Yidu exclaimed, prompting a wounded look from Halwii. Yidu's laugh gave away her teasing for what it was though, and he returned fire in kind.
"Spoken like someone who knows skin art," he said, sweeping another pointed look over Yidu's blank arms. "Ts'all right though, my youngest sister is scared of needles too."
"How old is your sister?" asked Lhara curiously, as Yidu stammered out a denial.
"Six," said Halwii with an evil grin.
"Bury my bones!" exclaimed Yidu, throwing up her hands. "How much for the two runes?"
"Four luns...three if you let me put one on you too."
Lhara, still flush with money from her trip with Jath, quickly handed over the silver coins to save Yidu from further incensed spluttering. The young scout was still fuming even as Halwii left with a wave to put his SkinPainting tools away.
"Oooo, that one is trouble! I should have called over Irbu or one of the other, more mature sailors!"
"You know Yidu..." Lhara couldn't help it, especially after her exchange with Jath that morning. "I think Halwii might be interested in you."
To Lhara's surprise, Yidu snorted. "He'd have better luck trying to charm a sea urchin. If I were ever to marry, I would be wanting a wife, not a husband."
"Really?! So, you're like Halna, our blacksmith back home. Aunt Rhena once told us how, when they were young, all the young men of Trosk wanted to court Halna because she was the Wise Woman's daughter. Halna turned them all away though, and instead courted Devina, the cobbler's wife. That was before Devnia and Joar were married, of course."
"Ah! Another thing our peoples have in common! From what I've heard, the capital takes somewhat of a dim view of intrawedding."
Now it was Lhara's turn to snort derisively. "Honestly, the more I learn about the capital, the more I think I made the right choice throwing in my lot with the Factionists." Suddenly, a thought occurred to her, one which she hadn't considered before now. "Yidu, does that mean-"
"Hey!"
At the stern railing, Yidu's fishing rod had begun to bob and dance. In the time it took for Yidu to leap to her feet and run toward it though, the bamboo rod had bent abruptly, brutally seaward. Whatever was on the other end of the line, it must have been bigger than all the fish in the basket combined.
"You've got a big one there, girl!" Shouted the sailor up in the crow's nest.
"Reel it in! Quick!" Yelled another.
It wasn't for lack of trying that Yidu wasn't able to. All the muscles in her powerful arms corded as she braced herself against the rail, both hands grey-knuckled on the rod. Lhara, not sure how best to help, shouted encouragement along with the men.
All the commotion brought Dagaan and Reyson up from the helm. Jath also appeared at the top of the ladder from below-decks, white brows puckered in confusion. When the captain saw how fiercely Yidu was having to struggle just to keep a grip on the rod, he raised his eyebrows.
"What have you done, hooked the bottom of the boat?"
"No..." Yidu gritted out. "Whatever it is, it's big, and it's moving all over the place!"
"It's probably a-"
Reyson never got his guess out. The rod flew through the air, jerked out of Yidu's hands with such force that she crashed into the ship's rail trying to hold onto it. Winded, she doubled over, and so did not see when an enormous column of white sea spray exploded skyward in the StormRider's wake.
Everyone heard the sound though. A gut-wrenching noise - that to Lhara sounded like the bellow of a mating ram echoing off the mountains - split the air. A sudden shadow fell across the deck, blocking the sun from all sight and throwing droplets of water everywhere.
Yidu screamed, Dagaan bellowed, Jath lost his footing on the stairs and fell heavily. Several of the men dropped to their knees.
"It's the sea serpent!!"
And so it was. When the serpent had been spotted during the funeral - barely more than a silhouette against the far horizon – the folk of Utunma hadn't known what to think. That was a time of such grief, relief, and uncertainty, many had been walking around in a dreamlike state to begin with. Sea serpents belonged firmly in the realm of fantastical bedtime stories and fireside legends; seeing one come to life at such a time truly had been more than anyone could process.
There was no denying this sighting though. Up close, the serpent was both breathtaking and absolutely terrifying. Its long, serpentine neck curled like a fiddlehead, accented by a webbed frill that that filtered the sunlight and cast a blue-tinged shadow on everyone's upturned faces. The neck of the serpent where it met the water was nearly as wide around as the StormRider's hull. No ship's hull had ever been so prismatically beautiful. A tower of shimmering blue-black scales rose before the sailors, ribbons of deepest violet and even silver streaking across its sea-wet skin as the serpent moved.
Looking up and up and up, Lhara had to crane her neck back painfully to finally look the serpent in the eye. It swayed slightly, back and forth in the water like a snake, transfixed. Then, with a low hiss that brought to mind fissures of steam in The Teeth, it opened its mouth. Frills around each side of its flared skull opened as the serpent let out another unearthly shriek. Everyone fell back, cowering when another shower of water pelted the StormRider.
There was a clatter nearby; wood on wood. Yidu's fishing rod lay on the deck, broken in half with the line torn straight off. Whatever fish may have been on the hook, it wasn't there anymore. One red snapper could never be enough to appease the appetite of such a creature...
The idea that came to Lhara then was barely more than a hope and a prayer. Even just saying it aloud felt like suggesting they throw rose petals on a rockslide.
"Yidu! The fish!"
Yidu remained crouched at the stern railing cradling her stomach, apparently frozen. It was Irbu, who stood nearby with tears rolling down his whiskered cheeks, who heard Lhara's cry. In just two long strides, he crossed the deck and scooped up Yidu's basket of fish.
"Take them!" he shouted, emptying the basket over the back of the ship.
Half a dozen puny fish must be nothing to so vast a behemoth. The serpent closed its enormous maw though, and fixed a piercing stare on the StormRider. Its eyes were black, pure black, as smooth and perfect as two pearls. Nobody moved...nobody even dared breathe.
Then, in one smooth motion, the serpent slid downward into the sea. It disappeared so utterly, it left in its wake a dream-like sensation, as if they had all been sleep-walking and just now awakened to find themselves blinking stupidly at each other. Even the warmth of the restored sun felt somewhat unreal upon their faces.
"Is...Is it gone?" Jath dared to ask.
Dagaan was just opening his mouth to speak when a sudden whoosh of water brought everyone running to the stern rail. The serpent re-appeared, or more accurately just its jaws. A sudden vortex of teeth – each as long as a Moaanese guard's sword – opened up beneath where Yidu's fish had been dumped. The serpent's mouth snapped shut, one black eye nearly level with the StormRider's deck. It hovered there for a moment, and in that moment Lhara got a sudden, inexplicable sense of acknowledgement.
And then, just like that, the sea serpent vanished beneath the waves once more. The crew stood in stunned speechlessness, looking back and forth between one another and the spot where the serpent had disappeared. Only the chop of the sea against the hull broke the silence.
"I say we keep to the coast past Syrion," said Ebn finally.
Every single soul aboard the StormRider agreed with him.
OoOoO