Dragons on the Sea of Night Read Online Free PDF Page B

shifting depths he saw again the eerie primordial face, filled with rage. The slash of a mouth appeared to open and he heard a rumbling as of distant thunder.
    He shook his head as if to clear his ears of water, but it did no good. He heard the rumbling again, breaking apart and re-forming into what could only be construed as words:
    I WANT HER. I MUST HAVE HER .
    What , he thought wildly, am I hearing?
    IT IS MIIRA’S WISH .
    Miira!
    DEFY ME AT YOUR PERIL!
    The water was rising, lapping up over Aufeya’s mouth and nose. She was struggling now, clearly terrified. And with good reason. In a moment, she would drown.
    With an extreme effort of will, Moichi looked away from the sorcerous face, concentrating on the task at hand. He was Aufeya’s only chance at life, and he had only moments within which to act. Already a larger wave was forming, heading toward them. The ship was beginning to climb the next crest and Moichi knew this was his last shot at saving Aufeya from a watery grave.
    He pressed his knees against the side timbers, hauled upwards, using all the strength in his legs, back and arms. Muscles popped, corded tendons pulled his skin this way and that. He could feel Miira dragging against him, fierce in her determination. But Moichi was more determined. He called upon the strength of his bond-brother, the Dai-San, and slowly, painfully slowly, he drew Aufeya toward him, until as the ship crested the wave, he brought her, gasping and shivering over the rail to his side.
    He had one last glimpse of that rage-stained face in the sea, then it broke apart into ten thousand shards, the wave crashed harmlessly against the hull of the ship, and was gone in white plumes along the ship’s wake.

TWO
    M IIRA’S M IRROR
    Of course, Aufeya had heard the voice .
    And, of course, he had to tell her about Miira’s Mirror. He had no choice. They had come too close to Miira – or something that called itself Miira – for him to be able to do otherwise.
    He had spent several hours seeing to the ship, but in truth the magnificent prowess of the Bujun ensured that what damage had occurred was minor. Again, he marveled that such a slight-looking vessel could so courageously weather such an evil storm, and he thanked the Dai-San all over again for his gift, for he was certain that no ordinary ship would have survived.
    In the end, he left what remained to be done to the tillerman, whose name was Arasomu, and who he had now elevated to first mate. He climbed the crosstrees of the mainmast like a monkey. At its tip, he tested the wind and tasted the sweet smell of the ocean’s marker that meant fair winds. Back on deck, he broke out his navigator’s instruments and, fixing on the shining constellations of the stars, calculated their position. He relayed all this information and his instructions to Arasomu. Confident that the weather had turned for good and that within hours they would be back on course for Iskael, he went belowdeck to his cabin, where Aufeya was waiting for him.
    He told her the legend of Miira’s Mirror as she lay in their berth, swathed in warming blankets, while the Tsubasa rode a tranquil sea and lightly gusting trade winds beneath a star-filled night sky toward Iskael. Just her nose and eyes peeped out from beneath the blankets and she seemed, with her wild hair and copper eyes, to be no more than a small child readying herself to hear a night-time tale before sleep.
    Miira, it is said by seamen the world over, was a woman of exceeding grace and beauty (Moichi began). She lived in Syrinx, a land far, far away on the other side of the Mountain Sin’hai, on the edge, it is said, of a stony abyss that plunged into the very heart of this planet. Her people, I think, must have died out long ago.
    These people were political animals. Power meant everything, and intrigue was second nature to them. Miira’s husband was a vice-minister in a government rife with internecine