The Quest for the Trilogy: Boneslicer; Seaspray; Deathwhisper by Mel Odom Page B

heard that.”
    â€œYou were meant to.”
    â€œI know you’re not happy about this, Wick,” Craugh said, “but it’s for the best.” He pointed.
    Following the bony finger, Wick spotted a seagull flying low over the water on One-Eyed Peggie ’s port side. The bird cruised easily, no more than ten feet above the placid, orange-tinted surface.
    â€œLet’s say that seagull represents the present,” Craugh said. “It sails through life blithely, but one day the past will rear up its ugly snout—”
    The water under the seagull suddenly erupted and a wart-covered red snout led a reptilian body up from the sea. Massive jaws opened and closed swiftly with a snap! of teeth that sounded like a tree trunk splitting. In the next instant, the seagull was gone and only a few white feathers drifted on the air.
    â€œâ€”and the present will be ripped away,” Craugh said.
    Listening to the wizard, Wick detected a deeper level of meaning to Craugh’s words. The warning scraped against something personal inside Craugh.
    â€œYou have to pay attention to the past, Wick,” Craugh said quietly. “You read books and look for the old science and history that has been lost or forgotten. But
you have to understand that people—humans, dwarves, and elves, and even dwellers—lived in that science and history. They had lives in addition to discoveries and explorations, and some of those lives weren’t quite as heroic as the authors of those books would have readers believe. People—” The wizard took a deep breath. “—well, they have a tendency to fail and disappoint. Especially when you view them as strong figures.”
    The anger and fear drained from Wick when he regarded the wizard. For the first time after all the adventures they had been through, Wick thought Craugh looked somehow vulnerable and lost.
    How can you go through a thousand years of living? he wondered. How many friends, how much family , did you lose over those centuries, Craugh?
    But he knew he dared not ask.
    â€œThose warriors that died at the Battle of Fell’s Keep need to be remembered,” Craugh said. “But they need to be remembered as a whole, not disparate groups.” He looked at the islands before them. “If we can find Oskarr’s battle-axe—”
    â€œBoneslicer,” Wick put in.
    â€œJust so,” the wizard said. “Once you find Boneslicer, we can begin healing that old wound.”
    Wick thought that all sounded well and good, but he kept remembering how easily the snouted beast— a giant crocodile ?—leaped from the water and snatched the unsuspecting seagull. How could Craugh and Cap’n Farok possibly believe he was going to succeed at this insane quest?
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    At dusk, One-Eyed Peggie dropped anchor less than a hundred paces from one of the islands. The lookouts had kept careful watch and didn’t think any goblins were in the area, but they had heard the clangor of dwarven hammers in the distance and knew they had to be close to a dwarven village.
    Dressed in a modest traveling cloak, his journal hidden under his shirt in a waterproof oilskin along with a quill and ink bottle and a few sticks of charcoal to work with, Wick stood ready to leave.
    Wheezing with effort, Cap’n Farok joined Wick beside the longboat the crew had prepared to lower over the side. The sulfurous air hadn’t agreed with the dwarven captain the whole day. Now he looked pale and wan.
    â€œYe keep yer head about ye while out there,” Cap’n Farok said in a nononsense tone. “I don’t like losin’ crew, an’ I won’t stand for it outta stupidity.”
    â€œAye, Cap’n.” Unconsciously, Wick stood a little taller and puffed out his chest. There was something innately noble about the old captain, something that reminded Wick of Grandmagister Ludaan, who had accepted him as a Novice and