On the fourth day of their journey, they came within sight of Ran Telus. It was a large town of stone houses with shingled roofs. Farmlands stretched out on either side of the road and got denser near the city.

William looked around as they entered the city gates, taking in the changes. "It's grown larger," he said. "Several buildings weren't here the last time we came."

"Well, that is the way of things," said Rusara. "They grow and shrink, live, and die."

"Is that statement of the obvious meant to be profound?" asked Felix, forgetting himself for a moment.

"Be silent, Calishan," snapped Raynald.

"It's quite all right, Raynald," said Rusara. "Sometimes, the simplest of realizations are the most profound."

Felix could have looked more impressed.

"Do you think Lord Telus will host us?" asked William, remembering a pleasant stay here a few years ago. Well, except for when Tanith cut the ears off that squirrel.

"We'll not have time to enjoy his hospitality," said Rusara. "We are still being pursued, as you ought to have remembered. Raynald has arranged a ship to Artarq. Or do you think those few days were idly spent?"

"Would it surprise you if I said yes?" muttered Felix in a low enough that Raynald could not hear.

The ship that had been contracted was a large vessel. A dragon's head was on its prow, and it had a bright red sail emblazoned with the symbol of a bull's head on it. This was fitting since minotaurs crewed it. They attended to various tasks with practiced ease. Their leader, a hulking gray bull with a long white beard, approached Raynald and hugged him. Raynald returned the embrace with his good arm. Then they separated.

"Lord Raynald," said the minotaur, "we were afraid you would not reach us in time."

"Is everything arranged, Hrungeld?" asked Raynald.

"Of course," said the minotaur. "We can leave at any time."

"Good," said Raynald, glancing back. "William, this is Captain Hrungeld, a friend of mine. He hails from Viokinar. He will be taking us to Artarq."

"I am glad to meet you," said William. "Your ship is magnificent." But, of course, he knew little enough about ships that he could be completely wrong. Even so, it seemed to please Hrungeld, who clapped him on the back in a move that sent William staggering.

"It is a source of great pride to my clan," said Hrungeld. "Come, come, all of you aboard! With your permission, we'll leave at once-" His eyes narrowed on Felix. "What is one of them doing here?"

"Felix is my servant," said William. "He will be no trouble, I assure you."

"See to it that he isn't," said Hrungeld with a glare.

They boarded the vessel. The gangplank was pulled up, and the ship glided out of the port like a swan. It was amazing how smoothly it moved. The few boats William had been on before had rocked and swung from side to side, but this one was more stable. It was still unpleasant, however.

As they left the harbor, William approached Raynald. "Raynald, why are we going with these Viokins?"

"You needn't fear, William," said Raynald. "Hrungeld is a fine sea captain."

"I'm sure he is if you say so," said William. "I've heard so many stories about the Viokin Minotaurs."

"Oh, those are all true," said Raynald. "But their days of coastal raiding are long past. Viokinar has problems at home, so they don't have time to do any raiding."

William gave up. Looking up, he saw Felix looking back at Ran Telus. He put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," said Felix. "I've long since become accustomed to it." He looked a little unsteady, though.

Then William saw Mother appear on the shore in full armor along with a contingent of guards. There was a gleam as she drew back her spear and then hurled it. There was a moment of silence. Then the spear passed over their heads and impaled itself in the mast. It was mere inches away from Raynald's head.

"... We're too far out to sea to throw a spear at us," said Hrungeld.

"Perhaps you'd like to tell her that to her face," mused Raynald, relatively calm.

Hrungeld reached out with one massive hand and gripped the spear before jerking on it. It didn't come out. He pulled harder several more times, so the wood groaned, and still, it would not come out. Grabbing it with both hands, he set one foot against the mast and then hauled it with all his might. Still, he has yet to receive results. Finally, Hrungeld stepped back and turned into a gigantic minotaur.

"Get this spear out of the mast," he said. "It's in the way."

The minotaur came forward and tried. It also failed. Thus began an odd assembly as each of the minotaurs came forward to push and pull out the spear. None were able to get it out. Finally, as Ran Telus had become tiny in the distance, Raynald came forward.

"Step back," Raynald said. "I'll handle this."

Hrungeld laughed. "Raynald, you are a mighty warrior. Yet, in sheer strength, a minotaur cannot be matched. What hope-"

Raynald set his hand to his sword. There was a blur of movement, and he was sheathing his sword, even though no one had seen the blade. A long moment passed, and then the spear fell into seven pieces with only the head remaining in the mast.

"Ever you surprise us," said Hrungeld. "All right, you bulls, back to work!"

Over the next few days, they sailed through the Haldrenian channel at a brisk pace. The air became warmer as they went further east, and the sun beat down on them. William did not enjoy himself during this time in the slightest, for he soon became seasick. He spent the next few days in an utterly wretched state, often throwing up over the side. It was much to the minotaur's amusement.

When at last he recovered, the air had turned cooler. But a heavy mist was rising up over the sea. It all seemed ominous, and William wasn't alone in thinking so.

"Mark my words; it's bad luck," said a sailor.

"Work of evil spirits, I'd wager," said another.

"They seem afraid," noted Felix.

"I have a bad feeling about this myself," said William. "Let's go see what Raynald is doing."

Finding them was tricky, with the mist sweeping over the deck. William found Raynald and Hrungeld standing at the prow, talking. Hrungeld appeared not so much afraid as concerned, while Raynald looked eager.

"It could be the normal sort of mist," said Hrungeld. "Or it could be some evil force that has decided it wants us to crash on the rocks. Or are they trying to hide an enemy approaching us even now?"

"Which do you think it is?" asked Raynald.

"Not sure," admitted Hrungeld. "The satyrs of Seathorius patrol these waters. They seek ships to seize for their demonic god. They have some proper sorcerers among them, worshippers of Melchious. Still, mists of the natural sort can be found anywhere. A proper fight might be a relief after all this suspense."

Melchious. The name sent a shiver down William's spine, and he felt like evil eyes were upon him. But, glancing around, he saw nothing. He turned back to Raynald and Hrungeld, who stared across the water.

"You ever wonder what it would be like to live in a world without sorcery?" asked Raynald. "I mean, you'd still have to deal with regular mists. But when it happened, you'd know there wasn't some malevolent force behind it."

"So you could just focus on avoiding the rocks and not getting lost," noted Hrungeld. "Yes, that would be nice. Even so, it would still mean ill fortune. Mists are omens of bad luck; we must not forget that."

"Perfect," said Raynald, "I hate all this waiting. I haven't had a good battle in years. An adventure would do everyone some good."

"I wish I were as confident as you," said Hrungeld. "But I'm not as young as I used to be, and my men and I are unlikely to survive such a venture. We have no special destiny keeping us safe, so you'll forgive us if we hope against you."

"I forgive you," laughed Raynald.

William liked only some of this talk of satyrs and adventure. He'd heard all sorts of horror stories, from how they acted to how they treated their prisoners. The prospect of satyrs who worshipped Melchious appealed even less. The stories of the demon were so many you could fill a thousand times with them. And you still need to have them all written down.

To distract himself, he went to the ship's opposite side. There, Rusara was staring into the mist. "Lady Rusara, is it true you fought Erik the Voyager?"

"Yes," said Rusara.

Silence reigned for a moment as William waited for her to continue. Then, finally, he sighed as he realized she wanted him to ask. "Could you tell me about him?"

Rusara smiled. "Erik the Voyager was ancient when I fought him. He had handsome features and intense green eyes like you and your Father. But he had a long white beard when I faced him. He was a terrible enemy, killing many people and nearly taking off my head. However, I managed to escape him, and since his side lost the battle, he couldn't pursue me.

"He was always viewed as a worthy opponent by us. We hated him bitterly but also respected him. He kept his word, you see."

"Is that the only reason?" asked William.

"It is more important than it may seem at first glance," said Rusara. "Oaths are binding in more than one way. To break an oath is to break a part of oneself. It is unforgivable to do in all but the most extreme circumstances.

"And no one who does so fails to get paid out in full by the end."

"Surely, some must get away," said William.

"No one ever really gets away with anything, William," said Rusara. "Oh, you might escape the consequences of your actions for a day or even a lifetime. In the end, however, there is consistent accounting for your sins. I think more people would only realize it would be a better world.

"Then again, perhaps not."

"Satyrs! Portside!" cried a sentry.

William looked up in terror and rushed with Rusara to the ship's side. Out of the mist had come a black vessel with black sails. There were designs of skulls on its surface. Its figurehead was that of a screaming woman, her face terrified and her eyes bleeding. Dozens of dirty men with goat legs and long braided beards were aboard. Their hair was wild and unkempt. In their hands were swords and axes, which they waved as they howled and hollered.

The minotaurs were arming themselves with spears and axes in a frenzy. Several were cheering. Raynald himself stepped forward, naked sword in hand and a broad smile on his face.

"Finally!" he said. "We'll see some excitement!"

William drew his sword and stepped back to stand behind Raynald. He was trying to get as far from the coming battle as possible without making it obvious. He didn't want to fight. He couldn't get rid of a lump in his throat and couldn't stop his hands from shaking. Cold sweat dripped from his brow. But, no, he steadied himself. He had to get involved. He had an obligation to fight alongside the crew!

"William," said Raynald as an afterthought, "I want you to stay back and out of the fighting."

"Yes, Raynald," he said. Thank Elranor. It was all he could do not to praise him out loud.

Raynald looked annoyed at the quickness of his response. Yet there needed to be more time for conversation. The ship was drawing nearer as they spoke. Then Rusara raised a hand.

"We don't have time for this," Rusara said.

A bolt of green flame shot forth from Rusara's palm to hit the black ship. The fire soon spread over the boat. William hoped the vessel would be destroyed without having to have a fight. Though the satyrs would probably all die, he didn't like the idea of anyone dying.

Then, a great shadow was cast over both ships. A wave arose and quenched the fire. William felt as though some terrible creature was reaching out for him.

The ships were now sailing parallel with one another. Ropes were thrown by both sides and hauled on to draw the vessels closer together. For a long, terrible moment, they were drawing nearer and nearer. Both sides strained to narrow the gap between them. Then they were side by side, and the satyrs spilled over the deck.

A minotaur was run through before his killer had his skull cloven by a battleax. Raynald's blade flashed lazily, and two heads fell from the shoulders of two satyrs. Hrungeld was fighting a satyr with his axe, both sporting bloody wounds. Rusara stepped aside from a lunge. She snapped her fingers and watched as her enemy burned to death, screaming. Then, their ashes were scattered in the wind.

Then, a satyr bore down on Rusara with a knife, and she fell to the deck, wrestling with the creature. William knew what he had to do. He had to go help her to slay the beasts. But he dared not move; people were dying around him, and his terror grew.

A dead body hit the deck before him, eyes lifeless and blood-soaked the wood. He shrank back from the corpse with a scream and found himself at the ship's edge. He looked back and saw the sea churning beneath him.

Then, a white-furred satyr of enormous size emerged from the fray over the corpse of a minotaur. On his face was a smile, all too like Raynald's. In his hand was a bloodstained sword. He was coming this way!

William's sword fell from his hand, and he rolled away just in time to avoid being grabbed. The white satyr loomed over him, blade in hand. Then Felix rushed at the creature, sword swinging. The beast knocked the weapon from Felix's hand, spinning it into the sea. Then, grabbing Felix by the collar, the satyr slammed him against the rail and threw him into the sea. Felix did not surface.

Felix would die if he didn't do something.

William vaulted over the ship's side and dove into the waters below. It was bitterly cold as he descended, trying to hold his breath. He could see Felix sinking into the water. He was not moving. William quickened his strokes, kicking at the water as he did so. Finally, reaching Felix, William tried to pull them both up. His lungs were burning; his boots were filling with water. Kicking them off, he removed Felix's shoes and then swam upwards.

William couldn't hold the air in his lungs any longer! He needed to breathe! Then, they broke through the surface of the waves with a splash, and he gasped for air. Yet Felix was still unconscious.

Why wouldn't he wake up?

William realized that the boy must have breathed in the water while sinking. His vision suddenly seemed to become crystal clear. He got behind Felix, putting a hand on his forehead. There was a sensation of something putting its will through him. Then Felix spat out water and pulled himself from William's grasp.

"You fool!" said Felix. "Why did you come after me?!"

"You're my friend," said William.

"No, I'm not!" roared Felix. "I'm your servant! Now... where is the ship?"

Confused, William looked up and around. The mist had arisen anew, and he could see no sign of the ship anywhere. Instead, a distant echo of fighting and screams could still be heard. Yet he could not tell which direction it was coming from. They were alone in the open water, and their ship was gone.