thought. He found that extremely irritating.
He considered beaching his ship, proceeding forward on foot, but immediately abandoned the idea. Walking among the slick-sided, sharp, black stalagmites that gleamed with an eerie, lurid brilliance in the magma's reflected glow wouldbe difficult, treacherous. He would stay with the river, at least for the time being …
A dull roaring sound came to his ears. A glance at Alfred's face told him the Sartan heard it, too.
“We're moving faster,” Alfred said, licking his lips that must be rimed with salt to judge by the sweat trickling down the man's cheeks.
The ship's speed increased, the magma hurtling along as if eager to arrive at some unknown destination. The roaring sound grew louder. Haplo kept his hands on the steering stone, peered ahead anxiously. He saw nothing except vast blackness.
“Rapids! A fall!” Alfred shouted, and the ship plunged over the edge of a gigantic lava cascade.
Haplo clung to the steering stone, the ship fell downward into a vast sea of molten lava. Rocks thrust up out of the swirling fiery mass, black nails grasping for the puny ship that was hurtling down on them.
Shaking himself free of the fascinated horror that gripped him, Haplo elevated his hands on the steering stone and, as his hands lifted, the runes on the stone glowed fiercely, brightly. The ship itself lifted, the magic flowing through the wings, activating them.
Dragon Wing,
as he had named it, wrenched itself free of the magma's clutching grasp and soared out over the molten sea.
Haplo heard behind him a groan and a slithering sound. The dog was on its feet, barking. Alfred lay huddled on the deck, the Sartan's face white as death.
“I think I'm going to be sick,” he said faintly.
“Don't do it here!” Haplo barked, noting his own hands shaking, experiencing himself a lurching in his stomach and a bitter taste of bile in his mouth. He concentrated on flying his ship.
Alfred apparently managed to control himself, for the Patryn heard nothing more from him. Haplo sailed his ship upward, hoping to discover that they had flown out of the cavern. As he flew up and up into the darkness, he was disappointed to observe stalactite formations. These wereincredibly large—some as much as a mile in diameter. Far, far below gleamed the magma sea, flowing to a horizon that was red on black.
He took the ship back down, near the shoreline. He had caught a glimpse to his right of an object that appeared man-made jutting out into the water. Its lines were too straight and even to have been formed by nature's hand, no matter how magically guided. Moving closer, he saw what looked like a pier, extending from the shore out into the lava ocean.
Haplo brought the ship down. He stared at the formation intently, trying to get a clear view.
“Look!” Alfred cried, sitting up and pointing, startling the dog, who growled. “There, to your left!”
Haplo jerked his head around, thinking they must be about to crash into a stalactite. Nothing loomed ahead of them and it took some moments to determine what Alfred had sighted.
Banks of clouds, created by the extreme heat of the magma sea meeting the cool air of the cavern far above, could be seen in the distance. The clouds drifted and parted, and then myriad tiny lights were visible, blinking out from beneath the clouds like stars.
Except that there could be no stars visible in this underground world.
The mist flew apart in tattered rags, and Haplo could see clearly. Perched on terraced steppes far from the magma sea stood the buildings and towers of an enormous city.
CHAPTER10
SAFE HARBOR,
ABARRACH
“W HERE ARE YOU TAKING THE SHIP?” ALFRED ASKED. “I'm going to dock at that pier or whatever it is over there,” Haplo answered, with a glance and a nod out the window.
“But the city's located on the opposite bank!”
“Precisely.”
“Then, why not—”
“It beats the hell out of me, Sartan, how you managed to survive so long.
He considered beaching his ship, proceeding forward on foot, but immediately abandoned the idea. Walking among the slick-sided, sharp, black stalagmites that gleamed with an eerie, lurid brilliance in the magma's reflected glow wouldbe difficult, treacherous. He would stay with the river, at least for the time being …
A dull roaring sound came to his ears. A glance at Alfred's face told him the Sartan heard it, too.
“We're moving faster,” Alfred said, licking his lips that must be rimed with salt to judge by the sweat trickling down the man's cheeks.
The ship's speed increased, the magma hurtling along as if eager to arrive at some unknown destination. The roaring sound grew louder. Haplo kept his hands on the steering stone, peered ahead anxiously. He saw nothing except vast blackness.
“Rapids! A fall!” Alfred shouted, and the ship plunged over the edge of a gigantic lava cascade.
Haplo clung to the steering stone, the ship fell downward into a vast sea of molten lava. Rocks thrust up out of the swirling fiery mass, black nails grasping for the puny ship that was hurtling down on them.
Shaking himself free of the fascinated horror that gripped him, Haplo elevated his hands on the steering stone and, as his hands lifted, the runes on the stone glowed fiercely, brightly. The ship itself lifted, the magic flowing through the wings, activating them.
Dragon Wing,
as he had named it, wrenched itself free of the magma's clutching grasp and soared out over the molten sea.
Haplo heard behind him a groan and a slithering sound. The dog was on its feet, barking. Alfred lay huddled on the deck, the Sartan's face white as death.
“I think I'm going to be sick,” he said faintly.
“Don't do it here!” Haplo barked, noting his own hands shaking, experiencing himself a lurching in his stomach and a bitter taste of bile in his mouth. He concentrated on flying his ship.
Alfred apparently managed to control himself, for the Patryn heard nothing more from him. Haplo sailed his ship upward, hoping to discover that they had flown out of the cavern. As he flew up and up into the darkness, he was disappointed to observe stalactite formations. These wereincredibly large—some as much as a mile in diameter. Far, far below gleamed the magma sea, flowing to a horizon that was red on black.
He took the ship back down, near the shoreline. He had caught a glimpse to his right of an object that appeared man-made jutting out into the water. Its lines were too straight and even to have been formed by nature's hand, no matter how magically guided. Moving closer, he saw what looked like a pier, extending from the shore out into the lava ocean.
Haplo brought the ship down. He stared at the formation intently, trying to get a clear view.
“Look!” Alfred cried, sitting up and pointing, startling the dog, who growled. “There, to your left!”
Haplo jerked his head around, thinking they must be about to crash into a stalactite. Nothing loomed ahead of them and it took some moments to determine what Alfred had sighted.
Banks of clouds, created by the extreme heat of the magma sea meeting the cool air of the cavern far above, could be seen in the distance. The clouds drifted and parted, and then myriad tiny lights were visible, blinking out from beneath the clouds like stars.
Except that there could be no stars visible in this underground world.
The mist flew apart in tattered rags, and Haplo could see clearly. Perched on terraced steppes far from the magma sea stood the buildings and towers of an enormous city.
CHAPTER10
SAFE HARBOR,
ABARRACH
“W HERE ARE YOU TAKING THE SHIP?” ALFRED ASKED. “I'm going to dock at that pier or whatever it is over there,” Haplo answered, with a glance and a nod out the window.
“But the city's located on the opposite bank!”
“Precisely.”
“Then, why not—”
“It beats the hell out of me, Sartan, how you managed to survive so long.
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