At nightfall, the Dawn Wind was a silent shadow rocking on the black waters of the harbor. Kael climbed the gangplank, feeling the gentle roll beneath his boots.
"Is everything ready?"
"Yes," Marcus answered. "Despite some of them drinking too much, they've loaded everything we need to sail."
"It's time," Kael ordered. "They can rest while we sail through the night. We won't have any trouble for a couple of days."
The first forty-eight hours were a mirage of peace. But on the evening of the second day, the sea decided to collect its toll. A violent blow shook the Dawn Wind's frame, sending cups and tools clattering to the floor.
"All hands on deck!" Kael roared, climbing topside as the ship listed. "Something's hitting the Dawn Wind — if we don't act, it'll be a problem!"
"Already?" Marcus shouted, grabbing a line.
"Apparently so. But I trust our preparations."
Panic took hold of some of the newer hands. The crash of cannons firing blindly into the darkness of the water rang out. Kael watched in horror as each explosion only drew a colossal silhouette from beneath the surface — slamming the hull with greater fury.
"Fools! I told you not to fire the cannons!" Kael yelled over the din. "Use the weapon we bought — it's not a decoration!"
"Yes, Captain! But most of them don't know how to work that kind of ballista!"
Kael searched the deck for the white-haired man watching the waves with practiced eyes.
"That's why I brought the old sailor! Have him show them what to do!"
It was a brutal fight. The great ballista groaned under tension before releasing a bolt that tore through the water and the flesh of the giant creature. After a struggle that seemed to last an eternity, the monster stopped fighting. The crew — soaked and exhausted — began to celebrate under the moon. But the cheers froze in their throats when a cry came from the crow's nest:
"Captain!... There are about fifty of them... No — a hundred! The same kind!"
Kael felt a chill that had nothing to do with the water.
"What?! Nobody told me they gathered this close together!"
The old sailor turned toward him, his face lit by the oil lamps.
"I warned you these weren't good times to sail with those things around. And one ballista was never going to be enough."
"Turn the helm!" Kael bellowed at the top of his lungs. "Full speed!"
The Dawn Wind came about in a desperate maneuver, fleeing the shadows that hammered the wood from every side. By some miracle, the ribs held.
"We're supposed to be the fastest ship on any sea — and we barely made it out," said one sailor when the danger was behind them.
"Don't say it like that," another replied under his breath. "Kael will hear you."
They took shelter in a familiar cove — a bay protected by cliffs — to assess the damage. The Dawn Wind was wounded: splintered planks and leaking seams.
"I think I underestimated what that old sailor told me," Kael admitted to Marcus. "Thank whatever gods watch these waters that the Dawn Wind is the fastest ship ever built."
Marcus let out a dry laugh.
"Now that's a good one," he said with a grin. "We all know you don't believe in any god."
"True," Kael smiled, though his gaze stayed on the cracks in the hull. "But this is going to delay our departure a little."
"Better to laugh in the face of setbacks. We need to get the Dawn Wind fixed."