Wulfe came up on deck, tugging irritably at the shirt that was too big for him.
“What did you do to make Aylaen cry?” Wulfe asked, scowling at Skylan.
“We were going to go home,” said Skylan. “And now we’re not.”
“You wouldn’t have made it anyway,” said Wulfe. “This shirt itches. Do I have to wear it?”
“Yes,” said Skylan. “What do you mean we wouldn’t have made it?”
“The oceanaids warned you to leave.” Wulfe scratched and squirmed and wriggled.
Skylan snorted. “What did your fish friends say was going to happen?”
“They’re not fish!” Wulfe said, offended. He cast a wary glance at the dragonhead prow and said in a whisper, “Kahg knows.”
“Knows what?” Skylan asked.
“What’s coming!” Wulfe hissed. “That’s why he was sailing away.”
“Then why did the dragon turn back?” Skylan asked, then he realized he already knew the answer. “The Vektan Torque. The dragon won’t leave because of the spiritbone.”
Wulfe shrugged, not interested. “I’m going to go tell Aylaen I hate this shirt.”
Skylan cast an uneasy glance at the dragon, hoping for a sign, a reassuring flicker of the eye. But Kahg wasn’t communicating. Aboard the ogre ship, the ogres were gesturing and pointing, and once again Bear Walker had to chase them away from the ship’s rail.
The waiting was hardest. A tense silence fell over the small group on board the Venjekar. Aylaen brought food: bread and olives. Skylan ate because his belly demanded to be fed, not because he had any appetite. The vague shape of a plan was forming in his mind. It wasn’t much of a plan, but at least it was better than nothing.
Wulfe had returned with Aylaen. She had found him a different shirt, one made from linen instead of wool.
“You and I need to talk,” said Skylan to the wolf-boy.
Reaching out, he ruffled the boy’s hair, a gesture of affection that startled Wulfe.
“What’d you do that for?” he asked suspiciously.
“Thank you for saving Aylaen,” said Skylan.
“I didn’t do it for you.” Wulfe rubbed his hands vigorously over his head to restore his hair back to the way it had been. “I did it for her.”
“Thank you,” said Skylan. “But don’t do it again.”
Wulfe regarded him through narrowed eyes. When he saw that Skylan wasn’t angry or accusing, Wulfe ducked his head. “I can’t help it.”
“I think you can,” said Skylan quietly.
“My daemons tell me to do it!”
“Don’t listen.”
“It’s hard!” Wulfe mumbled.
“I know,” said Skylan. “I’ve had to quit listening to mine.”
Wulfe stared at him and then gave an abrupt nod. “I’ll try. But I don’t promise.”
He wandered off to go stand by the rail, staring out at the sea and occasionally wiping his eyes. Acronis had been listening and when Wulfe had gone he came over to talk to Skylan.
“I am right in thinking I did see that boy change himself to a wolf.”
“Yes, sir,” said Skylan. “Like those wolves that attacked us in Sinaria. The wolves that weren’t wolves. If you ask the boy, he’ll tell you it’s a curse from his grandmother, the Faerie Queen.”
Acronis shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense, you know. It’s not scientifically possible.”
“Yet you saw it,” said Skylan.
“Yet I saw it,” said Acronis.
The Venjekar was now near enough to the ogre ship that Skylan ordered Farinn to trim the sail, slowing their speed. He guided the Venjekar to within hailing distance, yet out of spear range.
“What are you going to do?” Aylaen asked, attempting to sound calm. She had once more put on the Sinarian armor and buckled the sword of Vindrash around her waist.
Acronis was wearing his armor and his sword. Farinn was holding a battle-axe Skylan had given to him and trying to look as if he knew how to use it. Wulfe paced nervously, like a dog in a cage. Keeper lay beneath the sailcloth, peacefully sleeping the final sleep, waiting for Skylan to fulfill his promise to take him home.
“Pray to Torval,” said Skylan. Touching the amulet, he shouted across the sea. “Bear Walker! I did what I promised. As you can see, I chased off your enemy, the Sinarian war galley. I have proven my friendship.”
Bear Walker did not immediately answer. He was understandably suspicious. He looked from Skylan to Raegar’s ship limping back to Sinaria. The godlord had witnessed for himself the battle between the two dragons. He had seen Skylan’s dragon defeat the dragon of his foes. Bear Walker had also seen Skylan’s ship start to leave.
The godlord grunted and shouted at Skylan, “Why did you turn around and come back?”
Skylan had anticipated this question, which was a logical one. He was prepared with his answer. “When I saw that your ship was sinking, lord, I came back to help.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bear Walker said, glowering. “My ship is not sinking.”
“You are taking on water, lord,” said Skylan. “Is it possible you don’t know?”
“I know,” said Bear Walker, shrugging. “We are working to plug the leak.”
Skylan could tell by the glances the ogres at the rail gave one another that the leak-plugging was not going well. Bear Walker glared at them, doubtless warning them not to say a word.
“I am skilled in ship-building, lord,” said Skylan. “To prove my friendship, I will come aboard to help patch the leak.”
Bear Walker was at first amazed, and then gave a loud guffaw. “What if I save you the trouble and take your ship?”
Skylan shrugged. “What if I sail away and let you drown?”
“You won’t,” Bear Walker said smugly. He put his hand on the Vektan Torque, made a show of stroking it. “You want this gewgaw I wear. That’s why you came back.”
Bear Walker grinned at Skylan’s discomfiture.
“My shaman, Ravens-foot, told me the story. He says that your chief, a human named Horg, gave the ogres this gift as a mark of respect. You challenged the godlord to a battle and when you lost to him, you tried to steal the Torque-”
“Your whoreson shaman lies!” Skylan cried, losing his temper. “I fought your godlord in single combat and I killed him!”
“You’re not helping!” Aylaen warned.
The ogres were angry, shouting that he lied, that no human was a match for a godlord.
Skylan thought swiftly. “The reason I was able to kill him was because our gods had cursed him!”
The ogres fell silent, listening. Ogres were respectful of the gods, all gods, even those they did not worship. Skylan remembered how Keeper had urged Aylaen to fight for the honor of her goddess, Vindrash.
“Horg had no right to give the ogres the Torque,” Skylan continued. “It did not belong to him. The Torque belongs to the Vindrasi people. It was a gift to us from the gods. When Horg stole it, the gods cursed him.”
Bear Walker tore the Torque from his neck. “Are you saying this thing is cursed?”
“Horg died a terrible death,” said Skylan gravely. “The godlord who wore the Torque after Horg died a terrible death. Your shaman knows the truth. Ask him!”
Bear Walker turned to Ravens-foot, who began spluttering, probably protesting that Skylan was trying to trick them. Bear Walker’s face darkened.
“Now you are wearing the Torque and misfortune has dogged you, Bear Walker!” Skylan pressed home his advantage. “Your raid ended in disaster. Your ship is sinking. The gods’ curse is on you!”
The ogres on board the ship backed away from Bear Walker. The godlord eyed the Torque, then shoved it at the shaman. Ravens-foot shook his gourd at it and edged away. Bear Walker was left standing all alone, the Torque in his hand. He looked from the Torque to the foaming waves.
“He’s going to throw it in the sea!” Aylaen gasped.
“Give me the Torque!” Skylan yelled hastily. “When the Torque is in my hands, our gods will lift their curse from you.”
Bear Walker mulled this over. He wasn’t stupid. He didn’t trust Skylan and yet he didn’t have much choice.
“You will patch our ship?” he asked.
“I will. I swear by Torval!” Skylan vowed. “Let me come aboard.”
Bear Walker ordered his men to toss down a rope, which they did with alacrity. Skylan smiled reassuringly at Aylaen, who was watching unhappily.
“Pray to Vindrash for me,” said Skylan, taking hold of the rope. “You are in command while I’m gone.”
“Me?” she said, startled.
“If something happens, you and Kahg sail the Venjekar home. You can meet up with Sigurd.”
“I’ve found you, only to lose you,” Aylaen said in sorrowful tones.
“You haven’t lost me yet,” said Skylan, grinning.
He gave her a swift kiss on the cheek and then began to climb the rope, hand-over-hand. He had gone only a short distance when Wulfe seized hold of his ankle.
“It’s coming!” Wulfe yelled frantically. “It’s coming! It’s almost here!”
“Let go, damn it!” Skylan swore, twisting on the rope and trying to kick at the boy, who was holding on to him with a strength born of terror. “Aylaen, Farinn, get him off me!”