"I can feel them catching up!" Bordon shouted as he pulled desperately at the oars.
"Your instincts are right. Livia's brother is as relentless as a rabid dog," Zim complained.
"You can blame her for running away without saying a word, and blame us for becoming her accomplices without asking any questions," Simon said miserably.
"Don't make it sound so terrible. This is a fight for freedom!" Tawna laughed. The halfling was always the one keeping everyone's spirits up.
The winter sea was iron-gray, with ashen foam cresting across the waves. Yesterday, their small boat had followed a cold current south until they reached the waters near Orlumbor, where it met a warm current flowing north. After resting on the island for several hours, they turned west and continued riding the current, gradually leaving the mainland behind and venturing deeper into the Sea of Swords.
This was an adventure born from escape. Their reckless determination made them seem almost insane, yet none of them thought there was anything wrong with what they were doing.
Their destination was the legendary Skylrael.
That alone was worth gambling their lives on.
As long as they successfully reached the city in the sky, taverns from the Sword Coast to the Sea of Fallen Stars would tell their story. Future historians would write a single line in their chronicles:
In December of 15XX DR, a party of adventurers reached Skylrael.
That brief sentence would endure longer than an entire ordinary lifetime.
The pursuing wind carried a priest's amplified voice across the sea.
"Stop! You villains have kidnapped Miss Miko and are taking her into dangerous waters!"
"Miss Miko, do not be afraid! We will rescue you shortly! Please remain calm!"
"Should we stop?" Simon asked, already losing his nerve. He hunched his shoulders. "When I saw your brother's face that day, he looked ready to tear us apart with his teeth."
"All the more reason not to stop," Livia replied. "I am not going back."
Her expression was as cold and immovable as ice.
Her companions stared at her in secret amazement. Zim wondered whether the young woman's heart had been forged from iron.
"Mr. Simon, how much longer until your wind spell is ready?" Livia asked, her hopeful eyes shining.
"Uh, I'll do my best."
Simon Aumar scratched his head. The evasive look on his face made it clear that they probably should not expect much.
The sorcerer truly was hopeless.
[Gust of Wind] was only a 2nd-level spell, and it was considered relatively easy to learn compared with other spells of the same level. Western Faerûn was filled with hidden masters. They could probably stop a random traveler on the road and discover that the person knew at least one respectable mid-level spell.
Tawna reached one hand into the sea. A moment later, she hauled up a wolffish.
"Ow!" she squealed. "It's biting my finger! It must think my finger is a sausage. Does anyone want hot fish soup?"
"The boat's rocking too much to start a fire. We should just slice it into sashimi."
Zim switched places with Bordon and took the oars. His hands were already trembling.
"Oh, mighty sea, raise your waves and carry us to our destination."
Within moments, sweat covered his forehead.
"Don't say that!" Bordon hurriedly interrupted him. "Umberlee might hear you."
"What are we supposed to do, wait until they catch us? My arms are about to fall off."
"Look behind us!" Tawna shouted.
Everyone turned around.
Their pursuers were traveling on nothing more than a crude wooden raft, but magical wind and waves drove it forward with the speed of a gull skimming across the open ocean. What had originally been a tiny black speck was rapidly growing larger. At this rate, they would be close enough to see their pursuers' faces in less than two minutes.
On one side was a rowboat powered by human muscles, primitive enough to bring tears to a caveman's eyes.
On the other was a magically propelled raft surfing effortlessly across the waves.
There was absolutely no suspense in this maritime race.
"This isn't fair!" Tawna grumbled. "They have more than one priest aboard, while we're stuck with two useless sorcerers."
Simon and Zim exchanged awkward looks.
Livia stood at the bow, her expression changing repeatedly.
"What are you thinking about?" Zim asked.
"How I should beg for mercy once they catch us. I need to find some way to convince my brother not to drag all of you into court."
"But running away was your idea," Simon cautiously pointed out.
"Mystra preserve us, Simon. You are Elminster's great-great-grandson. Why don't you have even the slightest trace of courage?" Zim shouted.
Exhaustion had left him looking like a dog-shaped ice cream bar melting in the sun, but he still found enough strength to curse at Simon in an attempt to raise morale.
"Do you need those armored tin cans to drag us to the gallows before you can finally pronounce a spell correctly?"
"Oh, that's bad. That's very bad."
Simon, the fool, immediately panicked. He clutched his head and spent a moment reviewing the sorcerous magic inherited through his bloodline. Then he took a dried pea from the component pouch hanging from his waist, formed the appropriate gesture, and began chanting.
The spell created a line of powerful wind sixty feet long and ten feet wide.
Simon lay flat across the stern and pointed toward the water behind the boat.
"[Gust of Wind]!"
A powerful blast erupted from his fingertip. It curved sharply, swept beneath the boat, and lifted the entire vessel from the water. The compressed air formed a cushion beneath the hull and sent them racing forward.
"Fantastic!"
"We're flying!"
Everyone cheered. Zim threw away the oars, collapsed against Bordon, and gasped for breath.
Livia stared down at the Guide.
A golden, translucent sprite flew out from between its pages and pointed ahead. A small black dot could barely be seen in the distance, perhaps some kind of structure standing in the middle of the sea.
Simon's face tightened with strain. Maintaining the spell required his full concentration, forcing him to stare rigidly behind them.
In the distance, the sky darkened.
Black clouds came rushing toward them, bearing violent winds and rain. The region where the cold and warm currents met produced powerful atmospheric convection. In this world, however, the explanation was far simpler.
Umberlee, the Bitch Queen of the sea, was preparing to unleash her divine power and produce a magnificent storm filled with shattered ships and drowned sailors.
"Everyone, we have a problem!" Simon shouted.
He broke his concentration and warned the others about the approaching storm.
"A storm is coming! Zim, do your words have magical power or something?"
"Look at their raft! The waves are about to overturn it!"
"Wait, they cast some kind of spell!"
One of the priests among their pursuers sent them a message through magic.
"Spellcaster on the other boat, raise an arcane shield immediately!"
Zim raised an eyebrow.
"I know that spell. Simon, I'll take over from here."
His companions turned pale with horror.
"No!"
Sorcerers in Realmspace were born with the ability to cast magic. Their power generally came from one of two sources. Either their ancestors included dragons or other magical creatures, or they had been touched by the chaos of Wild Magic and transformed into living representatives of disorder.
Wild Magic possessed one particularly remarkable characteristic. Every time its wielder cast a spell, there was a chance of triggering a Wild Magic Surge.
Those surges were collections of the most impossible miracles and accidents in the multiverse. They could produce magical disasters that left archmages confused and gods speechless with laughter.
The first time Zim used his sorcerous power, he accidentally summoned a ball of lightning that reduced the thief who had intended to kill him to a charred corpse.
His companions had also witnessed his astonishing luck throughout their journey. Every time Zim prepared to cast a spell, they wanted to fall to their knees and beg him to reconsider.
Zim confidently raised an arcane shield.
A chaotic tide surged through the depths of the Weave.
An instant later, a magnificent white unicorn suddenly appeared aboard their tiny boat.
"Zim! Look what you've done!"
"By Our Smiling Lady, I'm still alive! Thank you, thank you..."
"Stop crying and brace for impact!"
The storm struck.
The spherical barrier bounced among the raging waves. Their little boat became a baseball in the hands of a giant, caught by one tremendous swing and launched through the air.
"Aaaaaah!"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
"..."
The unicorn snorted.
Livia and the others were hurled upward and sent plummeting down again until they were too dizzy to tell sky from sea. The storm shattered the barrier, tore the boat apart, and threw everyone into the water.
"Glub... glub..."
Andrei leaped into the sea. A paladin from the church of Tyr dove in beside him, and together they desperately attempted to rescue everyone who had fallen overboard.
Zim was dragged onto the raft beneath its protective barrier. He coughed violently, expelling seawater from his lungs.
"Livia! Save her!"
Andrei glared at him with naked hatred, then plunged back into the water. His muscular body cut through the waves like a great white shark.
Everyone else had been brought aboard the raft.
The soaking-wet unicorn rubbed its head affectionately against the paladin. It seemed instinctively fond of this stalwart champion of goodness.
"Oh, Livvy will be fine," Tawna said, biting her lip. "What bird dies while flying back to its nest?"
Livia felt her limbs growing impossibly heavy.
She felt no fear at the approach of death. Her only regret was that she had failed to reach Skylrael, the city in the sky.
She stared upward at the surface as it receded farther and farther away. Her vision gradually blurred.
At that critical moment, oily green tentacles emerged from the Guide and wrapped themselves around Livia's waist.
A gigantic, many-eyed octopus crawled out from between the book's pages. It lifted the warlock onto its body and carried her back toward the surface.
"She's over there!" Tawna shouted.
Her sharp eyes had spotted Livia several hundred feet away, sitting atop the enormous octopus's head.
Livia vomited seawater from her stomach. Her body was almost completely exhausted, but her expression remained exhilarated and utterly fearless.
The enormous octopus released a deep, languid laugh.
"Hermaeus Mora, at your service. Consider yourself honored, mortal. As the Master's representative, you cannot be permitted to die such a worthless death."
"Are you the book spirit inside the Guide?" Livia asked. "I thought this was a trial, and that I needed to reach Skylrael through my own efforts."
"A trial?"
Mora laughed thunderously.
"No, the Master does not usually test people. Still, you should take care not to anger him. The Master can be remarkably petty... Ah, that is not a subject I am permitted to discuss."
The creature's many eyes shifted toward her.
"Mortal, the Master commanded you to travel to Skylrael and meet him. Therefore, you will inevitably arrive. His words are fate itself."
Livia pursed her lips in a smile.
"When you say 'the Master,' do you mean the High Tower King or Mr. Skyl?"
"That is something you must discover for yourself."
"Very well. Please take me to the destination fate has arranged."
"Heh heh heh. We have already arrived."
"Skylrael? Where? There's nothing around us except seawater."
The enormous octopus extended a tentacle and pointed southwest.
Less than half a mile away, a dark speck could be seen through the rain. Its outline gradually resolved into a lighthouse.
"Look over there. Do you see the lighthouse? That is the gateway to the heavenly realm."
Umberlee's storm continued to roar, carrying everyone toward the lighthouse.
//Check out my P@tre0n for 30 extra chapters on all my fanfics //[email protected]/Razeil0810.