The dog, sensing its master’s gaze, opened its eyes, blinked lazily, yawned widely, and, seeing no action was imminent, gave a contented sigh and crowded closer to the child, nearly pushing Bane off the cot. Bane muttered something in his deep, something about Xar, and suddenly clutched the dog’s for with pinching hands.
The dog gave a pained yelp, reared its head, and looked at the child with a bemused expression, wondering what it had done to deserve such rough treatment, uncertain how to extricate itself. The dog looked up at Haplo, asking for help.
Haplo, smiling, uncurled the sleeping child’s fingers from the dog’s fur, petted the dog’s head in apology. The dog gave Bane a distrustful glance, jumped off the cot, and curled up safely on the deck at Haplo’s feet.
Haplo looked back at the visions, concentrated on Arianus, put the others out of his mind.
The first time Haplo had traveled to Arianus had nearly been his last. Unprepared for both the magical forces of Death’s Gate and the violent physical forces existent in the, Realm of Air, he had been forced to crash-land his ship on what he had later learned were a senes of small floating isles known as the Steps of Terrel Fen.
He was prepared, now, for the terrible effects of the ferocious storm that raged perpetually in the Lower Realms. The protective sigla that had only glowed faintly during their passage through Death’s Gate flared a vibrant blue when the first blast of wind smote the vessel. Lightning was almost continual, brilliant, blinding. Thunder crashed around them, the wind buffeted them. Hail battered the wooden shell, rain lashed against the window, forming a solid sheet of water, making it impossible to see.
Haplo brought the ship to a standstill, kept it floating in midair. Having spent time on Drevlin—the principal isle of the Lower Realm—he had learned that these storms swept through in cycles. He had only to wait for this one to pass; then would come a period of relative calm before the next one. During that calm, he would find a place to land, make contact with the dwarves.
Haplo considered keeping Bane asleep, decided to allow the boy to wake up. He might as well make himself useful. A quick brush of Haplo’s hand wiped away the rune he’d traced on the child’s forehead.
Bane sat up, blinked dazedly around for a moment, then glared at the Patryn accusingly.
“You put me to sleep.”
Haplo saw no need to verify, comment on, or apologize for his action. Keeping watch as best he could out the rain-smeared window, he flicked a glance at the boy.
“Go through the ship, see if there are any leaks or cracks in the hull.”
Bane flushed angrily at the Patryn’s offhand, commanding tone. Haplo watched the crimson wave spread from the fair neck to the cheeks. The blue eyes flashed in rebellion. Xar had not spoiled the child, who had been in the lord’s care over a year now. The lord had done much to improve Bane’s temper, but the boy had been raised a prince in a royal household and was accustomed to giving orders, not taking them.
Especially not from Haplo.
“If you’ve done your magic right, there shouldn’t be any cracks,” said Bane petulantly.
We might as well get settled now who’s boss, Haplo thought. He shifted his gaze back to the window, watching for the first signs that the storm was about to subside.
“I did my magic right. But you’ve worked with the runes. You know how delicate the balance is. One tiny sliver could start a crack that would end up breaking apart the entire ship. Best to make sure, to stop it now before it gets wider.”
A moment’s silence, which Haplo assumed was spent in internal struggle.
“Can I take the dog with me?” Bane asked in sullen tones. Haplo waved a hand. “Sure.”
The child seemed to cheer up. “Can I feed him a sausage?”
The dog, at the sound of its favorite word, was on its feet, tongue lolling, tail wagging.
“Only one,” said Haplo. “I’m not sure how long this Storm’s going to last. We may need to eat the sausages ourselves.”