Meleng smiled. The ballroom wasn’t empty as he and Feviona had expected. Sinitïa and Jorvan were leaping about, twirling, jumping, skipping. It was like a frenetic dance—at least, Sinitïa’s part in it. Jorvan’s movements were much smoother and more practised, while Sinitïa was trying to copy him and only getting it about half right.

On seeing Meleng and Feviona, Sinitïa ran towards Meleng. “Melly!” Throwing her arms around him, she hugged him tightly. She was wearing only a thin shift drenched in sweat. In a quiet voice, she said, “Jorvan’s teaching me to dance, but it’s so much harder than the dancing I learned in the Palace. I’m so exhausted. Thank you for giving me a reason to take a break.”

“You’re welcome.” He hugged her back, the clamminess of her sweaty cheek against his not bothering him. It never bothered him to hold her.

After a few moments, she let go of him and turned to Feviona, who was just parting from greeting Jorvan. The two of them touched foreheads, while Sinitïa looped her arms around Feviona’s neck, and Feviona’s wings wrapped around all of Sinitïa.

Meleng did the same with Jorvan. “How’s she doing?”

“Reasonably well. There is still much to do, but it is early still.” They parted as Jorvan continued speaking, “However, I do not yet know how she will manage the movements when she is wearing constricting human clothing. Thus her state of undress.”

Sinitïa looped her arms around Meleng again. “Chian said the same thing. She…” She flinched and looked to Feviona, letting go of Meleng to sign, “Sorry for mentioning that name.”

Feviona shook her head slightly and smiled.

“Human conjurors do fine in human clothes,” Meleng said, signing as he spoke.

“Yes, but not as well as Isyar,” Jorvan said, also signing. “Plus, elementalism needs much more fluid movements than conjuration. The clothes will cause more issues with elementalism. It is something that Sinitïa will probably need to figure out on her own.”

“It’s really hard already,” Sinitïa said. “I don’t know how I’ll do it with heavy clothes on.”

“There is still much to learn,” Jorvan said. “Do not worry about it for now.”

Sinitïa grinned. “Okay. Can we stop for now?”

Jorvan nodded. “We have done enough for today.”

Sinitïa’s grin widened, and she grabbed Meleng’s hand. “Melly, help me get dressed.” She dragged him aside to where her clothes were in a pile by the wall. As Meleng helped her get her skirts into place and tie her gown, she said, “It’s so hard. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Of course you can. You’ve only just started. You’ll get better the more you practise.”

“Maybe. It’s just, I try to follow his movements, but…”

Meleng kissed the back of her neck. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll come in time. You’ll be great. Remember, Chian said you could be the most powerful human wizard ever.”

She leaned back against him and he put his arms around her stomach. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

She squeaked, turned around, planted a kiss on his cheek, then hurried back over to Jorvan. “I’ll see you tonight at dinner. I love you!”

“I love you, too,” he called back.

Sinitïa turned to Feviona. “You need to tell me what that is for, later.” She pointed to the unusual object Feviona was carrying. Then she hurried out of the room, Jorvan following behind.

As Meleng walked over to Feviona, he said, “Can you tell me what that’s for now?”

Feviona held up the object. It looked like a club, but not made of wood or any other hard substance. “I discovered this very interesting material called…” She paused and thought for a moment. “I don’t have a sign for it. There is nothing like it in Isyaria.”

“In Arnorgue it’s called…” Meleng switched to speech. “Wool.”

Feviona nodded thoughtfully, then cupped her hands, crossing her thumbs. “From now on, that will be its sign.”

“Why does it look like a club?”

Feviona grinned. “So I can hit you with it.” She whacked the club down on the top of his head.

It didn’t hurt, but it did startle him enough that he stumbled back. He rubbed his head out of pure instinct.

“And not hurt you,” Feviona added. “I have used spells so that it retains its shape, but also its softness.”

“Why do you want to hit me?”

“I’ll get to that. First, I have a question for you. Let’s say this club was rolling down an incline. What would you do to stop it?”

Meleng stared at her. “Uh…”

“Well?”

“I guess I would just grab it, or put my foot in front of it. It’s light enough.”

Feviona nodded. “Now, pretend it’s much heavier. Pretend it’s a giant boulder rolling down a hill, and it’s going to smash into a crowd of people who can’t get out of the way. What would you do?”

Meleng gulped. “I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“I mean, maybe there’s a spell.”

“Of course there’s a spell.”

“But I…”

Feviona stepped closer and held out the woollen club to him.

He took it, though he had no idea what she wanted him to do with it.

“Why would the boulder be rolling down the hill?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Someone pushed it?”

“And what keeps it moving?”

“Gravity mostly.”

She nodded. “Gravity is a force, and force is?”

“Mass times acceleration. But I don’t know the mass. How can I apply the right acceleration?”

She gave him a sad smile. “You don’t need the mass. Not precisely. You keep trying to be too precise. You only need to estimate a greater mass.”

Meleng nodded. “Right. Sorry.”

“Hit me with the club.”

Meleng hesitated. “What? Why?”

“Hit me. It’s soft. It won’t hurt. If you can even hit me.”

Meleng raised the club and swung at her. It was only half-hearted and probably not what she wanted, but he aimed it for her shoulder.

Rather casually, she stepped aside, running a finger along the side of the club as she did so.

Meleng was glad he hadn’t used much force, as quite suddenly, the club wouldn’t move forward. In fact, it pushed back a little. If he’d swung harder, it might have even hurt. It was only momentary, and a split second later, he was able to continue the swing, but by then, Feviona was well out of the way.

There was a frown on Feviona’s face. “It would help if you tried harder.”

Meleng grimaced. “Sorry. I just—”

Feviona waved a finger at him. “No excuses. You have so much potential, but it will go nowhere if you don’t get over your uncertainty, your reticence, your lack of confidence. Yes, you will make mistakes sometimes. But you must try it anyway.”

“I know. I just…” He stopped at a look from her. She was right, of course, though he did feel he was getting better at the confidence issue. Of course, that wouldn’t help him in actual combat, and she was clearly attempting to teach him a combat manoeuvre. But he’d never actually wanted to be a combat wizard.

She was still watching him, a frown on her face.

“It’s not really a confidence issue,” he said. “I just don’t think combat is something I’m suited for.”

She shook her head and sighed. Then she approached him and stretched her head towards his. He lowered his head so they could touch foreheads, and she took his free hand in hers and clutched the wrist of the hand holding the club.

They stood there for several moments, looking into each other’s eyes. There was a sadness in hers. He didn’t want to disappoint her. These lessons meant so much to him and he desperately wanted them, but he also didn’t want her to have unrealistic expectations of him. That was a lack of confidence, he supposed, but surely there was a point where confidence became unrealistic.

He stopped himself closing his eyes to check the reality of the situation. That would disappoint her too, and it had been a while since he’d last done it.

After some time, she let go of him and stepped back. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then trust I know what I’m doing. This exercise has combat applications, yes, but it will also develop other important skills, including your confidence.”

Taking a deep breath, he nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Quit apologising. I only want you to do what I tell you without hesitation. If you fail, I don’t care. I only care that you try.”

He nodded again.

“Now, hold out the club.”

He did as she said without hesitation.

“Watch me carefully.” She slowly traced her finger on the club. It was a straight-forward equation, short and to the point, meant to apply a brief force to the club. When she finished, the club bounced up a little. “Got it?”

Meleng nodded.

“Good. Now, with me.”

Meleng touched the forefinger of his free hand to the club, and she placed her hand over his. Together, they traced the equation, and the club pushed up a little. As always, when they cast a spell together, that little tingling thrill spread up his arm. And as frequently happened, he hope she wasn’t too disappointed in him.

Feviona took the club from him and stepped back. “You are going to need to think quickly, adjust the direction and strength of the force with the moment.”

Meleng took a deep breath. “You want me to stop you hitting me?”

Feviona nodded and whacked him on the side of his head.

It was soft and didn’t hurt, but it did startle him. “I wasn’t ready.”

“Be ready.” She hit him again, this time on the arm. “You need to be faster.” She swung the club high.

He reached up for it, but wasn’t even close to touching it before it hit him.

She hit him again. And again. “Perhaps standing in place is not a good tactic.”

Meleng grimaced. He needed to move too? Of course he did. How short-sighted of him.

She hit him again. “I told you to move.”

“Yes, sorry, I was—”

She hit him again while he was signing.

On her next attack, he did his best to move aside. She still hit him, but...it was something.

“You didn’t even try to stop the club.”

He sighed. Right. He had to remember to move and stop the club. Gods, he wasn’t even sure how he was supposed to be fast enough to trace the equation while the club was moving. But he’d seen her do things like that. He’d seen her disintegrate her opponents armour in the middle of battle. So it could be done.

She hit him in the stomach and then on the head. “You’re lost in your head. You don’t have time to think about the best options. Just react.”

Again, she swung at him and he tried to duck under it, while also reaching for the club. It resulted in her hitting him in the elbow, but she smiled at him. He smiled back and she hit him on the head.

It continued much the same way for the next while. She swung at him and he did his best to stop her. Not once did he succeed. She hit him every single time. On a couple occasions, however, particularly later on, he got closer. Sort of. It was actually hard to tell. She kept the attacks coming rapidly, not allowing him time to reflect. But the expression on her face was one of approval, so he supposed he must be making some sort of progress.

On one occasion, he actually touched his finger to the side of the club, but there wasn’t time to trace the equation before it completed its motion into the side of his face. She actually nodded and smiled in response to that.

He wasn’t sure how long it lasted. An hour maybe? However long it had been, when she finally indicated they could stop, he practically fell over. He was exhausted, which had not been helping his ability to do the exercise. He spent several moments steadying himself and catching his breath. Finally, he looked to Feviona. “How did I do?”

She looked him over for several seconds. “About what could be expected for your first time. You’ll get better in time.”

“How long?”

She shrugged. “Hard to say. At least a year. Probably longer.”

That made sense, he supposed. In all honesty, he was surprised she thought it could be that quick. He couldn’t imagine ever being good at this. Maybe he could manage it once in a while, but not with any regularity. Certainly not every time like Feviona was capable of.

“But remember,” she went on, “it’s not really about succeeding in the task. It’s about making you think quickly and building your confidence.”

“How is constantly failing supposed to build my confidence?”

She smiled. “When you think faster in other situations and succeed in them. That will build your confidence.” She tapped his forehead. “You need to get out of your head.”

That made sense too. Even over the last hour, he had stopped trying to plan what he was going to do. He didn’t even try to figure out how he would adjust the equations for speed and trajectory if he managed to write them. He just tried his best to get his fingers on the club.

“You should get some rest,” Feviona said. “We will practise this about once a week.”

He nodded, and they stepped up close to each other again. Meleng lowered his head to touch his forehead to hers.

The ballroom doors crashed open. “Feviona! Meleng!” Akna ran over to them. Two palace guards were a short distance behind her.

“What’s wrong?” Meleng asked.

“Something’s happening at the docks. It’s killing people and sinking ships. We think it must be another one of those demon things. Jorvan’s already on his way. We need Feviona.”

With a gulp, Meleng quickly translated for Feviona, who turned and headed for the doors.

Meleng hurried after her.

* * * * *

Meleng forced his eyes to stay open. He’d thought he was getting better at this, but it had been a while since Feviona had last carried him in flight. She had commented a few weeks back that they should fly casually together from time to time so he could learn to relax. His tenseness apparently made it more difficult for her to hold on to him. Of course, learning that had not helped his tenseness any! Unfortunately, they had not gotten round to any of that casual flying, and now she was flying so fast, his stomach was twisting into knots and he felt like he might be sick. He did his best to resist that and kept his eyes open.

The disturbance was noticeable long before they reached the docks. Right from the moment they took to the air outside the palace, he could see plumes of water in the distance reaching above the buildings of the city. As they got closer, however, a cloud of mist forming around the docks made it more and more difficult to see what was happening.

Bitterly cold drops of water stung Meleng’s face as Feviona flew right into that cloud. He blinked several times as he tried to clear his eyes to see what was happening. He desperately wanted to wipe his eyes, but he didn’t dare let go of Feviona. All he could do was close his eyes, as much as he didn’t want to.

That was a mistake, as his feet hit ground without him being ready for it. He lurched in Feviona’s grip, causing her to stumble in her landing. The two of them tumbled over, Feviona landing on top of him.

As soon as her weight lifted off him, Meleng scrambled to his feet, almost slipping again on the wet, heaving deck. He wiped his eyes and quickly signed, “Sorry. Are you all right?”

Feviona flexed one of her wings and nodded. “Do what you can to help people.” Then she spread her wings wide and leapt into the air, gliding effortlessly between the rigging above.

Where was he?

A ship. Midway along the port side of the Lustrous Rose. That made sense. It was a familiar location and it got the question of how it was doing out of the way.

And how it was doing was rolling and pitching simultaneously about on the stormy waters of the harbour. Except there was no storm.

Miana Ting stood not far along deck, watching him with their usual stern look, arms crossed.

Meleng moved towards them as quickly as he could on the rocking deck.

“I find it difficult to believe that landing was Fevionawishtensen’s fault.”

Meleng gulped. “No, it was...it was my fault. I had my eyes closed and…”

Ting turned away from him and headed towards the bow.

Meleng followed. “What’s the situation?”

“A naked woman is destroying the harbour. Or was. Jorvanultumn has engaged her and has prevented further destruction so far. Presumably, Fevionawishtensen is joining the fight.”

Captain Gen stood on the port side of the forecastle, holding onto the rail and staring out across the harbour. He looked back as Ting and Meleng approached. “Ah, lad. Glad you’re here. Hopefully not just in time to see the sinking of the Lustrous Rose.”

Meleng went up beside him, taking hold of the rail as well. It was quite a relief to have something to stabilise him. The ship’s rolling and pitching was getting worse.

Out over the harbour, it was hard to see a lot due to the spray, but across the water, not all that far from the Lustrous Rose, there was a tall shape rising from the water between two other ships, each keeling in opposite directions away from the shape. It was a cylinder of water, spinning like a whirlwind.

“Jorvanultumn’s in there, I think,” Gen said. “Four ships sunk, several piers gone, who knows how many dead and drowned. That’s what it keeps saying. ‘Drown.’ Over there…” He pointed towards the entrance to the harbour, where the outline of a ship was just visible in the mist. “The Passing Fancy. She was preparing to see out when the initial wave ripped her from her moorings and set her adrift. Best I can tell, any crew on deck were washed overboard and drowned. Any left over are probably not enough to bring her back in. At least, not while the waters are so tormented.”

Meleng looked about the deck of the Lustrous Rose. Visibility was a little better than over the harbour due to the rigging, though he couldn’t see any people. “Where’s your crew?”

“Sent them away to safety, of course. We only had a skeleton crew anyway as we weren’t planning to go anywhere. I’m starting to think accepting her Highness’s offer was a bad move.” Gen looked down at Meleng and smiled.

“Why haven’t you and Ting gone to safety?” Meleng asked.

Gen chuckled. “A captain goes down with his ship lad, and this one…” He nodded to Ting standing behind him. “This one won’t leave me for some gods-forsaken reason.”

Meleng had heard that saying about captains before, but he had always wondered what the point was. Waiting until everyone else was safe first made sense, but throwing away their own lives when they could get away too?

“I can see the disapproval in your eyes lad, but if I survived the death of my ship, I’d never be able to look my mother in the eyes again.”

“Isn’t your mother dead?”

Gen laughed heartily and stared back over the harbour again. “She is, but trust me, every time I closed my eyes, I’d see her. And I couldn’t live with that. Speaking of things I couldn’t live with, if I go down, my spirit will never rest if I don’t get Jeanne to safety first. That’s why I was hoping you’d come with Fevionawishtensen. You can take Jeanne to your fomase to look after if it looks like the ship’s going to go down.” He put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly. “Jeanne, come!”

The dog rose from a nearby pile of rope and rolls of fabric, shook herself off, and scurried over to Gen.

Meleng nodded. “I’ll do that, sir, but first, maybe there’s something I can do to help make sure the ship doesn’t sink.”

Gen grinned. “Good lad.”

The equations were simple enough. Just a matter of strengthening the ship so that it could withstand more before breaking apart. The only question was how much area to cover with each spell. Smaller areas would individually use less power, but there would be a lot more to trace and the power expenditure would add up. A larger area would require more power, but it might not add up as fast. What was the most efficient?

No. There wasn’t time to work it all out. Like Feviona had been trying to teach him earlier, he had to just go with it. Make a flash decision. He decided to compromise and chose a size between the two he’d been debating. He set to work on the railing he was holding onto.

“Perhaps start with the mooring,” Ting said.

Meleng finished the first equation and nodded. He then followed Ting to the starboard side of the main deck, and the mooring securing the ship to the pier.

“Before the crew left, we did our best to make certain the mooring was secure, and I’ve been checking on it periodically since, but it doesn’t hurt to secure it more. I don’t want us to be set adrift. Despite his noble words, I have no intention of letting the captain go down with his ship. I can’t do that in the middle of the harbour.” Ting smiled at him.

Meleng stumbled and nearly fell over. He fervently hoped Ting thought that was because of the ship’s rocking and not his surprise at them smiling at him. That had actually happened, hadn’t it? He hadn’t imagined it? Ting had smiled at him?

He resisted the urge to close his eyes to determine the reality of everything around him, and instead grabbed hold of one of the ropes securing the ship to the pier. He traced an equation onto it, and moved to the next rope. There were a lot of ropes, and he had to go below deck for many of them, but it all went reasonably quickly.

Every now and then, there was a loud splash or crash somewhere in the distance behind him, but he resisted looking to see what was happening. He probably wouldn’t be able to see much anyway. He had to trust to Jorvan and Feviona to have the situation in hand.

Drown.

Meleng had just finished the last of the mooring ropes and was coming back up on deck when he heard that word for the first time. When he emerged on deck, a wave of water crashed into him, washing his feet out from under him. A moment later, he crashed into the starboard railing. As the water drained away, he pulled himself to his feet and looked portside.

A massive wave rose up, ready to crash down onto the ship, but it stopped.

Jorvan flew past, his arms spinning about, directing the wave to turn aside and crash back into the harbour.

Meleng took a few deep breaths, then quickly traced an equation onto the railing. Then he looked about.

Jorvan was out of sight again, but Gen was visible on the forecastle still, and Ting was on their way over to Meleng.

“Are you all right?” Meleng asked.

Ting nodded. “We’re fine. How are you doing?”

“I’ve done everything I can for the mooring on this side. I need to go onto the pier and strengthen things from there.”

Ting nodded again. “Do it.”

Meleng rushed for the gangplank, slipping and sliding as he went. He was a little more careful crossing over onto the pier. Falling over on deck wouldn’t be so bad, but falling into the water here would be disastrous—probably deadly due to the motion of the ship.

The pier was just as slippery as the ship’s deck. The waters of the harbour had risen so high, they were splashing over the top of the pier. But that was all right. As long as they didn’t rise any higher, he’d be fine. He hoped.

He bent over the closest mooring and traced equations onto it and the ropes attached to it. His equations on the other side of the ropes should have covered a little more than half the length—he hoped—and he did the same here. If he’d done it right, the areas should overlap, so there wouldn’t be a section of weaker rope in the middle. He moved along the pier, attending to the remaining moorings and ropes.

There was virtually no one else about. There were a few people visible, scrambling about to try to secure their ships, but no one else. When he was done with the Lustrous Rose, he would head to nearby ships and try to help them. He had no idea whether he would have enough strength for that, but would try. With luck, this would be over before his remaining strength was put to the test. Jorvan and Feviona would stop the demon. But he couldn’t rely on that. He had to keep going so long as the danger remained.

As he was finishing up the last of the moorings, a body floated up alongside the Lustrous Rose. At least, Meleng assumed it was a body. It was in terrible shape—a bloody pulp, probably pulled down by an undertow and battered by the hull of the ship. Meleng looked away, holding back the bile rising in his throat.

Then he gasped, vomiting just a little.

Down the pier stood a familiar figure. Wearing a white robe that fluttered in the wind, the incredibly tall, bald man was looking in Meleng’s direction.

The Tall Man? Meleng was certain it was the same person he’d seen when he was recovering from falling in the harbour last month, and this person fit the description Zandrue had given of the Tall Man.

The man tilted his head slightly. Scientist. What an unexpected pleasure. There is much I’d love to discuss with you, but alas, the Will-Breaker must suffer.

Something grabbed Meleng’s ankle, and he looked down.

It was the mangled body from the water, but it was reforming, wounds closing over and broken bones resetting themselves.

Drown.

Water rushed up around the demon, straight towards Meleng. Separate streams forced themselves up his nostrils and into his mouth. He clamped his mouth shut and pinched his nose, but the strength of the water pushed through cracks and he coughed without meaning to, letting even more water in.

His next instinct was to run, but the creature still had a hold on his ankle, so he just fell over. Strangely, the fall didn’t really hurt. Probably because he was too busy choking on the water filling his lungs.

But then the water left.

It switched directions and came back out of his mouth and nose. Coughing and gasping for air, he scrabbled along the pier, his foot now apparently freed.

Once he’d gained what he hoped was a bit of distance from the creature, he rolled over into a seated position and looked back.

Jorvan stood on the pier, guiding a plume of water that had lifted the demon high up above the decks of the Lustrous Rose.

Feviona flew over Meleng, and he turned to follow her progress. She flew straight at the Tall Man, sword swinging out for his neck. Unfortunately, Feviona’s wings blocked the view of whether or not the sword connected, but Feviona twisted to the side, and the Tall Man reached out for her. His finger came very close to her foot, maybe briefly touching it. Feviona careened, and crashed face-first into the pier.

As she pulled herself up onto her hands and knees, the Tall Man turned and approached her.

“Feviona!” Meleng jumped to his feet, drawing their sword—the one she’d given him, but they’d decided was both of theirs. He scribbled the strengthening equation along the blade and ran forward, raised the sword, and swung.

The Tall Man’s hand shot out and grabbed Meleng’s sword arm before he could complete the blow. The sword dropped to the pier. No, not just the sword. The sword and the hand holding it. The hand still attached to his forearm, which was no longer attached to the rest of him.

Meleng stared blankly for a moment.

Then the pain hit, and he screamed.

The Tall Man’s hand had gone straight through his arm like there had been nothing there.

Was that blood spraying from the stump of his right arm? Maybe. He stumbled back, or at least, he thought he did. Maybe he fell over. It was hard to tell. Especially with the face of the Tall Man leaning in close to him.

Then the Tall Man practically flew to the side, out of Meleng’s vision. There was a lot of water about. Maybe that was what hit the Tall Man. Yes, that must be it.

Someone took hold of him, laying his head down in her lap. Sini? No. Feviona. Just as beautiful, but in different ways.

Feviona’s hands were dancing over the stump of his arm. Tracing equations? Had to be. There was so much blood, but it didn’t seem to be spraying anymore,

But gods, the pain.

He was still screaming. It hadn’t occurred to him to stop until now. So he did. Tried to at any rate.

He looked up at Feviona, but she was all blurry. He went to wipe the tears from his eyes, but forgot the hand he tried to use wasn’t there anymore, so he started screaming again. Feviona held him tightly against her.

Nearby, his forearm and hand still lay on the pier, his hand still tightly clutching their sword.