Free The Thieves of Blood: Blade of the Flame - Book 1 by Tim Waggoner Page B

suppose that one of your priestly abilities allows you to locate sailing vessels?”
    Diran’s eyes were closed and his arms crossed over his chest, but Ghaji knew he wasn’t sleeping. Without opening his eyes, the priest replied, “I’m afraid not.”
    The
Zephyr
was headed southeast, and the first light of the coming dawn pinked the horizon just above their port bow. The sloop glided swiftly across the calm surface of the sea, her soarwood runners barely kicking up any spray. Ghaji didn’t particularly care for sea travel, but this trip was so smooth he was actually beginning to find it boring.
    “We need to do something,” Ghaji said. “We’ve been sailing for hours without any sign of the Black Fleet. It’s a big sea, Diran. I doubt we’ll just happen to bump into Onkar and his crew out here.”
    “Of course you’re right,” Diran said, eyes still closed, “but then we won’t need to. Since we’ve left Port Verge, our mysteriousbenefactor has been heading on a steady course southeast into what, on the seacharts, at least, is open water, but I believe Yvka has a specific destination in mind.”
    Ghaji turned to look back at the elf-woman. She sat in the same position as she had for hours, one hand on the tiller, the other resting in the depression on the arm of the pilot’s chair that allowed her to control the air elemental that powered the
Zephyr
.
    “Is this true?” Ghaji asked. “Don’t bother lying to me. I’m tried and hungry, and the only thing meaner than a tired and hungry half-orc is a tired and hungry full-orc.”
    “It’s true,” Yvka confirmed. “When we didn’t pick up the Black Fleet’s trail right away, I realized we’d need some help to locate them. I’m taking us to see a friend of mine who might be able to provide us with some useful information.”
    “Thanks
so
much for letting us know when we first set sail.” Ghaji’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
    “I’m not one to indulge in idle conversation,” Yvka said.
    “Idle?” Ghaji growled. He reached for his axe as he started to stand, but Diran, still not opening his eyes, gently took hold of his friend’s wrist.
    “Unless you know how to control an air elemental, I suggest you sit back down.”
    Ghaji ground his teeth, but he removed his hand from his axe and did as his companion suggested.
    “So we just sit here like good little boys and allow Yvka to take us wherever she feels like?”
    “Unless you have a better suggestion.”
    Ghaji glared over his shoulder at the enigmatic elf-woman, but she merely looked back, silent and unconcerned. He turnedback to face the bow, folded his arms over his chest, and closed his eyes. “Wake me when we get there.”

    “Ghaji, we’re here.”
    The half-orc’s eyes snapped open, and he regretted it as they were stabbed by bright daylight. He half-closed his eyes again and squinted at Diran. The priest was shaking Ghaji’s shoulder and none too gently, either.
    “Danger?” Ghaji asked in a voice barely above a whisper.
    “No. Nothing immediate, at least.”
    Ghaji nodded and slowly opened his eyes all the way once more and took in their new surroundings. The blue sky was filled with puffy white clouds, and a cool breeze blew across the water. He and Diran were still aboard the
Zephyr
, though there was no sign of Yvka. The sloop had dropped anchor a few dozen yards from mound of black rock the size of a small island, perhaps one hundred yards across, one hundred twenty at the most. Other vessels surrounded the tiny island on all sides—one-masters, mostly, like the
Zephyr
, though there were a few two-masters and even one three-masted frigate. The craggy obsidian surface of the island was bereft of plants and animals, but it was hardly lifeless. A few dozen sailors crowded the tiny island, most standing about and talking, but some had set up small wooden tables and were loudly hawking one product or another. Gulls floated on the breeze, circling the island and keeping a