Brian Rathbone - The Dawning of Power

"Come here and look out to the seas," Nat said.

"I can't," Catrin said, suddenly terrified.

"It'll be fine, li'l miss. I'll be right here holding on to ya."

Slowly, deliberately, Catrin moved toward the opening. Then she stuck her head outside until she could no longer see the chamber walls in her periphery, her face exposed to raging currents. For a moment she simply stared out across the landscape, but then her vision began to swim. Only the feeling of Benjin's grip kept her from screaming. Slowly he began to pull her back, but something was happening. "No," she said. "Just hold me."

Benjin did as she asked, and she watched as the landscape morphed.

A crowd gathered outside the Masterhouse. With their arms in the air, they chanted. Above, on a raised dais, stood her father, his hands tied behind his back.

"Treason," said a thundering voice, and Catrin shuddered as its deep vibrations assaulted her being. "The penalty is death!" His words hammered Catrin's chest like a physical blow. Howling, she ran forward as the headsman raised his axe. The crowd parted before her, but a single figure rose up to dominate her sight. The glowing face of Istra stood between Catrin and her father, and she screamed, howling in frustration.

Gasping for breath, Catrin fell back into Benjin's arms, but only a moment did she allow herself to recover. A tickling around her nostrils and a warm sensation brought her hand to her nose, and it came away covered in blood.

"We've got to get her down from here," Benjin said with a scathing glance at Nat.

"We have to hurry," Catrin said. "Have to get home."

"Is she hurt," a voice called, and Catrin stirred.

"She just needs rest," Benjin said, his deep voice close to her ear.

Only then did Catrin realize she was being carried, and she pulled her head away from Benjin's neck. "How did you get me down?"

"Chase and I took turns carrying you."

Unable to imagine how difficult it must have been to carry her down the mountain, Catrin just closed her eyes and let Benjin carry her to her cabin.

"We have to get back to the Godfist, or they're going to kill my father," she managed to say before sleep claimed her again, and she saw the shock in Benjin's eyes, though she never heard his response.

"How close is the Eel to being fully repaired?" Benjin asked.

"There are one or two places where we may need to reinforce a cracked beam or the like," Kenward said, "but she's seaworthy."

"Is there any way we can make extra speed for this trip? We have good reason to believe that Wendel is in mortal danger."

"There's not much we can do but run light," Kenward said. "Problem with that is you can get awfully hungry before the fish start biting."

"Is it a chance you'd be willing to take?" Benjin asked, locking eyes with Kenward. Both knew the stakes.

"I'd be willing to take that chance, and perhaps one more," Kenward said with a sly wink. "I had some new sails made and some extra rigging hung. Mother thinks I've lost my senses, but I know the Eel can take the speed, and more speed means less time spent hungry."

"That's your problem, fool boy," Nora said. "Always thinking with your stomach."

"Aye," Kenward said. "Keeps me well fed. We've no more time to waste, I suppose. I'll just make sure the crew is done loading, and then we'll be under sail."

Standing at the prow, Catrin held onto the railing as the Slippery Eel knifed through the water, her extra sails filled with wind and driving her forward with tremendous force. Even so, no amount of sail could make the journey from the Falcon Isles to the Godfist short, and Catrin was made to wait. Most of her time was spent pacing the decks like an angry cat, her hand caressing the carving in her pocket. At those times she thought she might be more comfortable in the form of a panther than anything else, and she wondered about something Barabas had once said. She wondered if she had ever truly lived as a panther, or a butterfly, or even a whale. It seemed too strange to be true, yet she felt an affinity to each of those creatures, and she was left to wonder.

The others tried to keep her company, but they, too, were anxious, and their anxiety poured over Catrin like a wave. Eventually she found herself alone, driven to near madness by the waiting. Unwilling to do nothing, she began to experiment with ways to make ship move faster. At first, she tried pushing more air into the sails, but her efforts were both ineffective and extremely draining, thus she abandoned that approach.

In a moment of sudden clarity, Catrin wondered of she'd ever lived as a bird. The thought gave her an idea. After a lot of thought and experimentation-moving her hand up and down in the wind and feeling the way the air currents changed-Catrin decided to try using a narrow band of energy, like a wing, to slice the air. Her first attempts had no noticeable effect, but as she formed her wing of energy into different shapes, holding it at varying angles, she suddenly felt tremendous drag applied to the ship. It was not the desired effect, but it was a significant effect with relatively little effort. Reversing the curve of her energy wing produced an equally significant increase in the ship's speed; it was as if she were lifting the ship, causing it to ride higher in the water.

Before she went any further, she searched for Kenward, who was arguing with Bryn over the ship's suddenly erratic performance.

"… can't find anything wrong, sir," Bryn was saying as she approached.

"Then look again," Kenward snapped.

"Bryn, wait," Catrin said, and though he turned his head, he kept moving.

Kenward met Catrin's eyes and called Bryn back. "What's this about?"

"I wanted to see if I could make the ship go faster," Catrin said, and Kenward's eyes bulged. Of all the things he'd seen her do with the power, the thought of her propelling his ship seemed to disturb him greatly. "At first I only managed to slow us down, but I reversed my technique and the ship seemed to speed up."

"By the gods," Bryn said. "That's what that was?"

"I've never felt anything like it before," Kenward said, and Nora, who had been inspecting the ship for problems, now stood at his side. "It was as if we'd emptied the hold and lightened the ship. Can you do it again?"

"We have no idea how this will affect the ship," Nora said. "It would a dangerous thing to try, and knowing you, that's all the incentive you'll need to try it, but you've been warned." After wagging her finger in Kenward's face, she walked away.

"Do you think it's safe for me to try?" Catrin asked, now unsure of herself.

"I'll put the men in the hold on guard, and they can tell us if there are any problems developing. I'm anxious to reach the Godfist on your father's behalf and yours. Nothing would make me happier than a way to shorten this particular voyage."

"Then I'll try," Catrin said. "I'll use only a small wing at first."

"A wing?" Kenward asked, but then he shook his head. "Forget I asked. I'm not certain I want to know yet. Maybe you can tell me afterward."

The conversation had drawn attention, and most of the crew stopped what they were doing long enough to at least steal a glance at Catrin. She stood at the prow, her arms cast wide, her staff in one hand and Koe in the other. It took her a moment to find the correct angle and curvature again, but when she did, she felt the ship surge ahead.

"You're doing it!" Kenward shouted, his face a mixture of horror and fascination, which turned more and more to excitement. "Damage report!"

"The hull is showing no signs of stress, sir," Bryn said. "If anything, I'd say there seems to be less stress."

"Catrin, you may use a larger wing," Kenward said with a firm nod.