The day after they had left the mangled galley of the corsairs behind them, they had found a proper wind, blowing them slowly north and east towards their final port. Tarmon had taken out the steel breastplate that had been removed from the pirate leader and gone up onto the deck before breakfast.

Alex and Jamie had both gone out to see where he was and they found him sitting cross-legged on the deck, just behind the main mast. Held in his hands was a ball of molten steel, about the size of a small melon. As they both continued to watch in grim fascination, Tarmon stuck his free hand into the molten ball, pinching out a smaller piece between his fingers. Instantly, the larger ball seemed to solidify and rapidly cool down through the yellow to red and finally black.

By the time Tarmon allowed it to drop onto the planking between his ankles, it was cold. Now, using both hands, Tarmon seems to sculpt the smaller piece of molten metal between his fingers. Pulling, smoothing and flattening it into a disc-like star-shaped set of sharp-edged blades. It is a shape that Alex feels sure it would take a skilled blacksmith some time to even crudely recreate.

Pinching the long-bladed edges into a dull point, Tarmon draws all the heat out of his creation with a snap. What was once almost molten metal is cooled instantly into hardened, quenched steel. Concentration on his face, Tarmon then heats the star once more, allowing it to just begin to glow before setting it aside to cool slowly.

Within a short time, Tarmon has created four such stars, using about half of the metal from the armour plate. Noticing that he now has an audience – several sailors had come to see what he is doing – he gestures to Jamie. “Do you have one of your bolts?” he asks, holding out his hand.

“Yes, I still have a few,” Jamie replies, lifting one out of his pocket and tossing it down for Tarmon to catch. “I’ll need to get many more made before we set out from Mekalla.”

“No point wasting metal,” Tarmon smiles as he picks up the blob of steel once more. It is already beginning to glow before he has brough his second hand over to steady the piece.

In the time that it would normally take a blacksmith to make just a single bolt, Tarmon has made half a dozen. Each is smoother and finer than any that Jamie had held before, their edges flowing and organic rather than hammer-formed. They feel more poised and comfortable in his hand, promising increased accuracy and speed of flight.

“When this quest is over, you could find work across this world, just doing what you did this morning,” Alex tells Tarmon as he stands and they head in for breakfast. “People would pay top money for such fine work. You should give those stars to the armourer. He’ll have a wheel to sharpen them for you.”

Everybody on board is keen to be present in the common room for the arrival of the captain tonight. They have been three weeks at sea and it’s clear that many of the travellers are now growing restless. The little red pin has, at least in Alex’s mind, been moving a little too slowly for his liking. There’s no more truly fresh food, the cooks having to resort to salted beef, a few desiccated root vegetables and the occasional fish caught by the sailors. 

Still, the time has been well used and everyone is both rested and well-trained. Tarmon and Chao seem to be getting on particularly well, but Jamie assures Alex repeatedly that there’s nothing romantic between the two men just yet. Tarmon has taken to sparring and training with Chao in a way that’s almost impossible to believe. He already holds himself differently, walks differently and appears to be full of calm confidence.

Now, Tarmon is standing with his friends, just as keen as the rest of them to see where they are. They only have to wait a moment longer, as the captain comes in and indicates that he will have his usual glass of wine. As is his tradition, however, he moves the pin a good distance to the north, now little more than a finger’s breadth away from the spot that marks the great city of Mekalla and very close to the coast to the west.

“We shall dock before noon tomorrow,” he announces in the northern tongue.

“Can you see the city?” Jamie asks Alex as they take their seats. Alex closes his eyes and concentrates. Their magical powers have, as predicted, been decreasing the further north they go. Alex still feels as if he has a little more power than before the enhancements brought by the Flame, but not by much.

“Yes, I can see it clearly now. It’s every bit as impressive as Chao keeps telling us. I’d show you, but looking at it from above probably doesn’t do it justice. You’ll just have to wait, like everyone else.”

“At least this second part of our voyage has been without incident,” Jamie suggests. “One lot of corsairs is more than enough.”

“I would still like to know who was behind that,” Alex agrees. “Let us hope that Lee Shan is correct in his assessment and we can find out more when we dock. I’m sure the empire will have spies who have some knowledge that is not available to us here at sea.”

“Chao tells me we will be expected to meet the Emperor formally when we arrive,” Tarmon tells them. “I can’t say that I’m looking forward to it.”

“Tell Chao to not make a big thing of your presence, then. He has a habit, or so I have noticed, of getting a little too excited. Alex and I can handle the bulk of the meeting with the Emperor. You and the others just need to turn up and smile politely,” Jamie tells him in response.

“If he cannot be made to see sense, then tell me and I’ll have a word with him,” Alex adds.

“So,” Jamie asks. “Apart from being afraid to meet his father, you are getting on well with Chao?”

“I knew you’d ask sooner or later,” Tarmon says, looking away and beginning to blush lightly.

“Well, we did promise your mother that we would look out for you.”

“I… He’s very nice,” Tarmon admits, “but there’s nothing going on between us.”

“I never suggested that there was, but even if it was, our protection of you doesn’t extend that far. Whatever level of friendship the two of you wish to pursue, it is fine with us. Anyway, I’m sure you can take care of your own well-being.”

“I’m just nervous of a new place,” I guess.

“That’s understandable. We are as well, but it is part of our job to meet with important people in various places, so we can mask our fears and apprehensions better than most,” Alex suggests.

“But you’re used to the ceremony and wealth. I’m not,” Tarmon points out. “I’m going to meet the Emperor of the largest empire on this world. He’s literally the most powerful and important person there can be.”

“He is,” Jamie agrees. “Nobody would ever deny the fact and his importance, power and influence should never be belittled. The thing you seem to be forgetting is a simple one, however. You know his son and can see that he’s just like any other person, once you get past the title and the wealth. Isn’t it reasonable to expect that the Emperor himself will be much the same?”

“Also, he will be grateful for our arrival and our offer of assistance,” Alex points out. “There is much to be read into his embassy. If he was confident that he could find some power-based solution to this problem, then he would have done so. Instead, he sent his own son and the ambassador to seek out our help.”

Chao arrives and sits down opposite the three of them, leaving a momentary silence as they notice his arrival.

“You were talking about me?” he asks with a grin that causes Tarmon to flush once more. “I’m flattered.”

“Partly,” Jamie admits with a returned grin. “We were just commenting on our slight nervousness for the arrival in your city. Alex and I have travelled widely, but this is a first long journey for Tarmon and I think he has reservations.”

“Sorry,” Tarmon mutters.

“No, I understand completely. I sometimes forget that my father is the Emperor. The fact that I have such casual access to him isn’t something that many others enjoy. Our imperial court is quite a formal one, but don’t feel anxious. You are to be our honoured guests and are our allies in this quest. You will all be treated with the utmost respect.”

“How formal, exactly?” Tarmon asks.

“Well, you will have to dress up and a formal introduction will be needed.” Chao looks somewhat taken aback by Tarmon’s reaction. The young red-head looks horrified. “Don’t worry. It’s not as bad as it seems. It won’t be tomorrow. You will be given plenty of time to get settled into your rooms in the palace. Plenty of time for a tailor, a barber and a quick lesson in imperial etiquette.”

“I don’t think you’re making me feel better about this,” Tarmon tells them all with a deep sigh.

“I will teach you,” Chao suggests. “We can treat it like any other training session. It’s not really that difficult. Just a formal bow, your name is given and then perhaps a few words. It will be over in moments.”

“And you promise to not make me into more than I am?”

“I do. Father will not quiz you on your abilities or thoughts until we are in private.”