Stanager refused to let the concern that had nagged at her ever since their arrival in the sanctuary dilute her high spirits. “All is in readiness,” she told her guests. “We can leave now or on the morrow and resume our course westward. I have ciphered our position. Though we were blown far north into waters I do not know, the necessary adjustments are straightforward enough. We will sail a little more to the south, and still arrive at the trading port of Doroune less than a week later than originally planned. We carry more than enough stores to sustain us through the delay.” She contemplated the placid waters.
“There is only one element I cannot account for, and that my experience is not equal to.” Raising a hand, she gestured over the railing. It did not matter in which direction she pointed, because their surroundings were identical on all sides. And therefore, so was the problem.
“I have sailed through straits so narrow they would pinch a coal lugger’s gut, navigated my way past shelves of coral and rocks so black they could hardly be seen by the lookout. I have taken the Grömsketter safely past whirlpools strong enough to suck a lesser vessel down to its doom, and seen to a fire in the galley in the middle of the night. But I have never, ever, had occasion to try to sail uphill.” She was watching Ehomba closely.
“This astonishing liquid vale has been a welcome refuge. Now, how do we escape it?”
Ehomba returned her gaze. Nearby, Simna ibn Sind leaned back against the rail and grinned. It always amused him when his tall friend startled the skeptical with one of his unexpected magical revelations. He looked forward with great anticipation to the look of amazement and realization that was soon to come over the Captain’s beautiful face.