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inadequate name. It was by any definition a castle and a stronghold at that. Even from their position south, Melia could see the guards standing at every corner tower, keeping careful watch. It was disconcerting, to be sure, but nothing they had time to deal with now.
    “Hoy,” Gerard said, his voice raspy. “I think I see a hospitality hearth up ahead.”
    “Let’s hope they have a hearth strong enough to heat a good bit of water. I have a mighty need for a bath and a cup of tea.” She took Gerard’s arm to steady him, and they continued through the ruckus toward the sign that read, hearth share inn .
    Neither of them noticed the shadow growing long behind them, always twenty paces back.
     
     
     
     

 
    4 The Voyage
    Lumin Cycle 10152
     
    Mia Jayne stared in awe at the large ship before her. It was a sight to behold, with its fantastic metal hull eaten away with age and the ravages of the tropics, a relic from a long-forgotten past. A grove of elder trees grew from the center of the deck. She always traveled by canoe through the channels out among the hammocks, but this ship wouldn’t fit through such thin strips of water. It was meant for majestic trips across the straits.
    It was Mia’s first trip to Willowslip, as Father always had kept them clear of major towns when they’d traveled. “When you’ve seen how humanity acts during war times, you realize the thin veil of civilization we wear is but a mask we don to be able to continue to live with ourselves,” he’d said once, after imbibing a strongly fermented gourd.
    When Mia asked what he meant, his demeanor grew surly. “Such matters are in the past and should stay there!”
    She never pressed the subject after that. Now, as she stood waiting to embark upon the ship, a small shiver trilled through her. She should have pressed harder for information, paid greater attention to the ramblings of her elders.
    “Fare?” said a sailor. His bony face and sunken eyes wore a bored expression as he blocked the embarkation ramp with his body.
    “Gourds,” she replied, and held up a basket of the squash fruit she’d lugged with her from Hackberry.
    “They fresh?” he asked suspiciously. He stared at Mia, as if just noticing something odd about her face. Brushing off his stare, she selected one of the gourds from the basket and rapped it solidly against the rail of the ship’s gangway. The gourd pulsed with a soft glow in her hand.
    “Freshly picked. They should have at least five uses in them.”
    He nodded and took the basket from her hands then offered it to a deck hand who’d slunk up by his side. “That’ll do,” he said, and waved her onto the boat. “Find a place ter set. We’ll be off shortly.”
    Mia boarded and surveyed her surroundings. The deck was built around a large grove of elder trees that occupied a significant portion of the center of the ship. They were a particularly hardy and well-tended bunch. She walked over to the rail that surrounded the dense throng of trees and peeked over it toward the roots below. Their trunks descended into the darkness of the hold, but the smell of moist earth wafted up from the recesses. She reached out a hand to touch one of the branches of the closest elder tree.
    “I would refrain,” a deep voice said from behind her. She flinched back in surprise and turned her head to locate the source. A tall, lean man stood behind her. He had black hair and dark eyes, not unlike Father’s, but his deep skin, although naturally brown and swarthy, appeared ashy and faded. His complexion would be even darker than Father’s if he didn’t clearly spend nearly every waking moment indoors.
    “Why is that?” Mia replied, studying his clothing. He obviously wasn’t one of the hammock folk. His heavy garments were devoid of color, as if each piece had been washed one too many times with lye or had been left in the sun to drab.
    “The shipmasters are very particular about maintaining their elders. If you were