Page 104 of The Cradle of Ice
Meryk guided the skiff over to the canal and turned into its mouth. It was deep enough to accommodate the orksos and wide enough that two skiffs could have traversed it side by side. Graylin stared into the water, wondering if it had to be dredged regularly to keep it open.
But why?
Meryk leaned down to ignite a small pot of flitch that rested in a stanchion at the prow. Flames sputtered, then blew brighter.
Jace tilted to get a better view. “There’s a cave in the ice ahead.”
Graylin had noted it, too, but thought it was a rift in the ice, as if the waterway were a stream melted out of the cliff. As they neared it, the flames of Meryk’s firepot revealed that it was indeed the entrance to a colossal cave.
“This is a holy spot for my wife’s people,” Meryk said. “It might anger many if they know that I brought you here. But you deserve to know the truth about our shared history.”
The orksos hauled them past a pair of giant sandstone urns and under the entrance’s arch of ice. Beyond it, the flames from the skiff’s prow illuminated a yawning space. Firelight reflected off its ice walls, illuminating the treasure within.
Jace gasped.
Darant swore.
A small lake filled the cavern. Beached within it was a huge ship. Its hull dwarfed the Sparrowhawk. Its draft-iron prow rose even higher, sculpted into the likeness of a fierce wyrm, whose outspread wings flanked the hull.
“It’s the Fyredragon,” Jace exclaimed, not looking away. “Rega sy Noor’s old ship.”
* * *
GRAYLIN PACED ALONGSIDE Darant as they circled around a cold beach that edged the lake. He carried a small lantern and held it high.
The Fyredragon rested crookedly in the water. The apparent majesty of the ship upon first sight had waned. The curve of its hull had caved in on one side. Hoarfrost caked everything, including the stacks of centuries-old fabric atop the deck and the massive curls of draft-iron cables.
“What do you think?” Graylin asked Darant. “Can you scavenge enough from the Fyredragon to repair the Sparrowhawk?”
“I’ll get my crew to scour over her. But after sitting in that dank water for so long and frozen on top, there’s no telling how much rot and ice has damaged those planks.”
“Still, there’s hope, right? Meryk told me that the Noorish have been preserving the vessel as best they could over the two centuries. Oiling its hulls, polishing its steel and draft-iron, chipping off the worst of the ice. All to honor this shrine to their ancestors.”
Darant nodded, sizing up the ship. “It’s indeed a mountain of wood and acres of fabric. Gotta be enough in there somewhere to mend the Hawk’s flanks and get her wings to fluttering again.”
“You should see this!” Jace called over.
Around a curve of the beach, he and Krysh searched through a swath of sand strewn with detritus. Crates and barrels lay scattered everywhere, looking as if they had been washed ashore from a shipwreck—which was partially true.
Graylin and Darant crossed toward the clutter.
Once close enough, the pirate swore. “Look at that.”
Darant rushed to the side, to where a waist-high forge engine sat in the sand. It must’ve been dragged from the ship. Darant began examining it, digging through it, likely looking for what could be salvaged from it.
Jace waved Graylin over to Krysh. The alchymist had pried the lid off a barrel. Graylin caught the whiff of a familiar spicy scent as he approached. The barrel was full of a dark emerald gelatinous liquid.
“Is that old whelyn flitch?” he asked. He searched back toward the cavern entrance, where Meryk had remained with his skiff and orksos.
“It’s old,” Krysh admitted, swirling a finger into it, proving it was still thick but not firmly solid. “But I don’t think it was decay that softened or darkened it. I believe it’s been refined into its current state, likely centuries ago.”
“By Rega sy Noor?” Graylin asked.
“Or someone in his crew,” Jace said. “Remember, Rega’s trip was one of exploration. He traveled with a dozen alchymists. There’s a table near the far wall, piled with books on chymistry, though they’ve been molded into slabs by the cavern’s dampness. Fortunately, the titles are still legible.”
Krysh nodded. “They must have been trying to do exactly what we talked about earlier, experimenting with a new fuel for its forges.”
“Were they successful?”
