Chapter 2

For two hours we watched the other ship from the stern as it slowly, slowly crept up on us. That is, I was watching her approach, while Nightbreeze was leaning against the ornately carved taffrail of the large merchant vessel Merry Dancer, which moved as lightly and briskly as is possible in order to still be considered the complete ironic opposite of her name. Her eyes were closed, and I knew she was straining under the pressure of manipulating the flows of wind.

As the sweat was pouring down her face, and small groans escaped her lips, I could see that her effort was working. The Merry Dancer was moving steadily and relatively fast, as the wind seemed to come constantly in from a point after and starboard of the vessel. Ginger, as I named our enemy's ship, was struggling to maintain good wind conditions, if I interpreted the sudden collapses of the sails on the two masts correctly as well as, when they came closer, the frantic activities of the three crewmen.

Nightbreeze's effort was working, but it was not enough. Ginger was fast, far faster than our ship, and she closed in on us as a frost wolf on the exhausted reindeer. The crewmen of the Merry Dancer cheered her on, still believing this to be just a joyride for Ginger's captain. But my hope sank, and when there started to rise smoke from behind the forecastle of the other ship I lost it completely.

"Let's hope he's just frying his dinner on deck," the fat crewman said. "Otherwise he's in to it pretty deep."

I could hope so, as well, but I knew that was not what he was doing. I knew 'he' was the firedancer, and that 'what' he was doing was some kind of devilry that spelled bad news for Nightbreeze and me, and perhaps for the entire ship as well. The smoke grew, and it was a clear, pale, white smoke that was being dispersed by the sea winds, but still growing ominously. Minute by minute Ginger approached, and minute by minute Nightbreeze was getting more and more exhausted, groaning and swearing under her breath to keep up her supernatural work.

By now a great fire was clearly visible, swirling over the deck as it reached for the sky. The crewmen were getting uneasy, and I heard exclamations of 'black magic' and 'pirates' before the ship's bell ordered all hands to their stations. The sound of the bell ringing might as well be the chimes of doom, as in the same instant Nightbreeze collapsed in a heap at my feet.

The wind changed in a manner of seconds, something I was only dimly aware of where I was crouching, trying to wake the woman to life. Her eyes were rolled grotesquely upwards as if she was looking at her brain to see if anything was amiss with it. She had a quick pulse, and her breathing was labored. Her hair, somewhat longer than I remembered, was plastered across her face, beautiful and shining despite her being soaked with sweat. Quickly I took her hands in mine, and the prickling started in my fingertips, the prickling that accompanied my healing powers. There was nothing wrong with her, I could feel that clearly; nothing but exhaustion, both physical and mental. Now, if only we had a little time to rest before they caught up with...

There came a scream from the Merry Dancer, a scream from the throats of all those who were looking at the other ship. Yet it soon turned into a cry of fear from bottom of the very human soul of the ship. Lifting my head, I saw the horror that had brought forth that scream. It was a dragon of fire, a huge thing of roaring flames with a wing span a full two hundred feet long if not more. The fire on the Ginger was extinguished when the dragon's tail snapped free of the hearth that had given it life. The immaterial tail narrowly missed the small ship's sails as the creature or totem or spell or whatever it was headed for us. Whatever it was didn't matter for when it would plunge for the kill the Merry Dancer would be doomed.