Page 209 of The Cradle of Ice
The smoke hid the world around them, but Rhaif had used the crashed Hálendiian sailraft near the beach as a marker. It had still been smoldering as they passed it.
“We should be—”
A coughing chuff cut him off, but it also answered Darant’s question. A vargr had keener eyes than any of them. Kalder came barreling through the pall, looking as if he coalesced out of the smoke. He sniffed a fast circle, confirming who they were—then leaped away, vanishing in a breath.
They headed after him.
With the destination at hand, Darant abandoned Rhaif, no longer needing a guide. His trio of crewmen rushed after their captain, axes in hand, ready to free Brayl.
One of them hung back for a few extra breaths. Perde’s broken arm had been hastily splinted, but he refused to stay behind. He carried an ax over a shoulder. “Quit draggin’ your arse.”
Perde turned and sped after the others.
Rhaif frowned at the general lack of gratitude by pirates. Still, he tossed aside his cane and hurried as best he could after them. He feared what they all would find inside the sailraft. It had been a hard day for everyone.
To lose Brayl, too …
Rhaif cleared the edge of the smoke, and the green sea opened before him. The crashed sailraft lay dark and silent. Darant and the others waded toward it. Kalder splashed ahead, leading them.
A short distance from the raft’s open stern, Fenn waved an arm. The navigator tossed something aside with his other hand.
Rhaif followed the others through the shallows. As he did, he searched the glowing mists overhead. A few wings cut across the sky. And it looked like more stirred higher.
Fenn waited for Rhaif, noting where he was looking. “They’ve been circling, stirring about, but I’ve not seen them approach any closer. Maybe they’ve eaten their fill.”
“Then let’s hope they don’t get a sudden craving.” Rhaif shifted to a topic that Fenn seemed to be avoiding. “How’s Brayl?”
Fenn’s lips drew into hard, pained lines. “Floraan attended to her. She was relieved to get that satchel. If you hadn’t sent me back, she might not have lasted this long.” He gave a sad shake of his head. “She’s lost a lot of blood.”
With a grimace, Rhaif headed over, if only to say good-bye. He was glad she lasted long enough until her father returned.
As he crossed the last of the way, Kalder nosed at something small and dark bobbing in the waves.
“What’s that?” Rhaif asked.
Fenn waved a hand dismissively. “A dead skrycrow. I saw it out here when Kalder ran off and fetched you. I was hoping it might still have its message. Get some idea of what’s going on with the Hálendiians.”
“Did you find anything?”
“No. The crow’s harness must’ve fallen loose or washed off.”
Rhaif frowned. Those harnesses were difficult to dislodge. They had to be. The birds made long flights, often through foul weather.
“Too bad,” Rhaif muttered, picturing that ox-faced Ghryss blasting away in his sailraft.
Together, Rhaif and Fenn reached the broken stern and climbed past the cold wreckage of the forge. Ahead, Darant knelt in the water next to his daughter. Brayl nodded, offering a weak smile. She looked like a ghost already.
Rhaif held back, not wanting to intrude. Floraan stood to the side, having done all she could. She held Henna close with one arm, as if that grip alone could keep Floraan from ever suffering the same fate.
To have to say farewell to a child.
Rhaif saw that Floraan had also managed to rummage a crude splint together for her arm. A very resourceful woman.
She’d make a good thief.
Rhaif caught Floraan’s eye and nodded toward Brayl.
The woman simply shook her head.
