Sea of Death: Blade of the Flame - Book 3 Read Online Free PDF Page A

that it originated from Perhata might well lead to an escalation of hostilities between the two cities. Especially since Diran and Ghaji had been responsible for the destruction of the
Maelstrom
and the Coldhearts. That action hadn’t been authorized by Mahir—not that he wasn’t pleased by it—but Baroness Calida might not see it that way.
    In the end Asenka had managed to convince Mahir to sponsor the journey to Kolbyr. It helped that it wouldn’t be too expensive, of course, and that they planned to conduct their mission as unobtrusively as possible. But Mahir’s main reason for agreeing was a practical one. The longstanding enmity between the two cities had prevented both from progressing the way they might have otherwise. Mahir didn’t exactly want to become friends with Calida, but the periodic clashes between their two cities were costly. If those Lhazaarites who made their homes in the Gulf of Ingjald ever hoped to compete economically with the rest of the Principalities, the feud between Perhata and Kolbyr had to end.
    So with Mahir’s approval—and more importantly, his money—Asenka was able to hire a cargo vessel to bear Diran and his companions to a small fishing village not far from Kolbyr. They couldn’t use the
Water Dragon
—the Sea Scorpions’ ship—lest she draw too much attention and be seen as an attack on Kolbyr, especially now that the Coldhearts were no longer there to protect the city.
    After arriving at the village, they disembarked and hired
Welby’s Pride
to take them the rest of the way. It was common for independent fishing boats to bring their catch in to either Kolbyr or Perhata, depending on which was closer and which happened to be paying more for fish at any given time. It was true that Diran, Ghaji, and the others didn’t much resemble local fisherfolk, but then even in this less-than-cosmopolitan backwater of the Principalities, it wasn’tunknown to see groups of odd strangers, and while some eyebrows might get raised, few questions would be asked.
    “It seems like we’ve been sailing for days,” Ghaji complained. “At this pace, we may not reach Kolbyr until summer.”
    “We wouldn’t have to use this leaky wreck at all if we still had the
Zephyr,”
Yvka said. “In the time it’s taken us to get this far, we could’ve already reached Kolbyr, lifted the curse, and be halfway back to Perhata.”
    Tresslar frowned. “You’re not the only one who’s lost something, you know.”
    The artificer had been in a foul mood for the last several days, ever since his dragonwand had been stolen at Mount Luster by the barghest. The elderly artificer had searched for the device night and day, forgoing both sleep and meals in his obsessive quest to regain the dragonwand. Diran couldn’t blame the old man. The golden dragonhead affixed to the tip of the wand was a magical artifact of great power, enabling its user to drain mystical energy from enchanted objects and rechannel it to create whatever effects the user desired. Tresslar had possessed the dragonwand for forty years, ever since he’d sailed with the legendary explorer Erdis Cai in his youth. Tresslar was determined not to give up the dragonwand easily, but so far all his attempts to locate the artifact had met with failure.
    Yvka’s face reddened with anger at Tresslar’s comment, and Ghaji—as he so often did—stepped in to lighten the mood. “I think you’ve been spoiled by your elemental sloop, Yvka. Now you’re frustrated because you have to travel as slowly as the rest of us ordinary mortals.”
    But Ghaji’s words had the opposite effect. Yvka’s face turned a deeper red, and her delicate elvish brow furrowed into a scowl. “It’s not a joking matter.”
    Her voice had a sternness to it that Diran had seldom heard before, like she was an adult lecturing a small child, and an annoying one at that. Yvka was an elf, and therefore older than Ghaji, perhaps quite a bit older. Diran forgot that