Free Fire Sea by Margaret Weis Page A

feared. He imagined himself attempting to put the strange sensation into words. He imagined his lord's answer.
    “A fainting spell. I didn't know you were subject to those, Haplo, My Son. Perhaps you shouldn't go on a journey of such importance.”
    No, better solve this on his own. He considered searching the rest of his ship, but—again—that would waste time. “And how can I search it when I don't know what I'm looking for?” he demanded, exasperated. “I'm like a kid who sees ghosts in the night, making my mother come in with the candle to prove to me that there's nothing there. Bah! Let's get out of here!”
    He strode resolutely over to the steering stone, placed his hands on it. The dog took its accustomed position next to the glass portholes located in the dragon's breast. Apparently its master had come to the end of whatever strange game he'd been playing. Tail wagging, the dog barked excitedly. Theship rose up on the currents of wind and magic and sailed into the purple-streaked sky.
    The entry into Death's Gate was an awesome, terrifying experience. A tiny black dot in the twilight sky, the Gate was like a perverse star that shone dark instead of light. The dot did not grow in size, the nearer the ship sailed. Rather, it seemed that the ship itself shrank down to fit inside. Dwindling, diminishing—a frightening sensation and one that Haplo knew was all in his mind, an optical illusion, like seeing pools of water in a burning desert.
    This was his third time entering Death's Gate from the Nexus side, and he knew he should be accustomed to the effect. He shouldn't let it frighten him. But now, just as every time before, he stared at that small hole and felt his stomach clench, his breath come short. The closer he flew, the faster the ship sailed. He couldn't stop his forward motion, even if he'd wanted to. Death's Gate was sucking him inside.
    The hole began to distort the sky. Streaks of purple and pink, flares of soft red began twisting around it. Either the sky was spinning and he was stationary, or he was spinning and the sky was stationary, he could never tell which. And all the while he was being drawn inside at an ever-increasing rate of speed.
    This time, he'd fight the fear. This time—
    A shattering crash and an inhuman wail brought Haplo's heart to his mouth. The dog jumped to its feet and was off like an arrow, racing into the ship's interior.
    Haplo wrenched his gaze away from the mesmerizing swirl of colors enticing him into the blackness beyond. In the distance, he could hear the dog's bark echoing through the corridors. To judge by the dog's reaction, someone or something was aboard his ship.
    Haplo lurched forward. The ship rocked and heaved and bucked. He had difficulty keeping his feet, tottered and staggered into the bulkheads like some old drunk.
    The dog's barking grew in loudness and intensity butHaplo noted, oddly, a change in the note. The bark was no longer threatening, it was joyful—the animal greeting someone it knew and recognized.
    Perhaps some kid had hidden himself aboard for a prank or a chance for adventure. Haplo couldn't conceive of any Patryn child who would indulge in such mischief. Patryn children, growing up (if they managed to live that long) in the Labyrinth, had very little time for childhood.
    After some difficulty, he made his way to the hold, heard a voice, faint and pathetic.
    “Nice doggie. Hush, now, nice dog, and go away, and I'll give you this bit of sausage …”
    Haplo paused in the shadows. The voice sounded familiar. It wasn't a child's, it was a man's and he knew it, although he couldn't quite place it. The Patryn activated the runes on his hands. Bright blue light welled from the sigla, illuminating the darkness of the hold. He stepped inside.
    The dog stood spraddle-legged on the deck, barking with all its might at a man cowering in a corner. The man, too, was familiar, a balding head topped by a fringe of hair around the ears, a weary middle-aged