Voyage of the Fox Rider by Dennis L. McKiernan Read Free Book Online Page B

‘Jinnarin,’ eh? Last night it was ‘Jin-Jin.’”
    “Whatever you are talking about, Pysk, we haven’t time,” snapped Alamar, wincing at the loudness of his own voice.
    “Alamar, I have news for you: we sailed some twelve hours past.”
    As if his knees had turned to water, Alamar plopped back down upon the bunk. “Twelve…?”
    Jinnarin nodded, finally getting to her feet. Rux opened an eye, then closed it again.
    “How could you let this happen, Pysk?” groaned Alamar.
    “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” she answered.
    “Idea? What idea? Where are we bound?”
    “For Arbalin,” responded Jinnarin. “There to see—”
    Alamar groaned again. “To see Aravan. I remember.”He cast a grievous eye at Jinnarin. “How could you conceive such a stupid scheme?”
    “I? I?”
spluttered Jinnarin. “How could
I
conceive such a stupid—”
    “That’s what I asked, Pysk,” barked Alamar. “No need to repeat the question.”
    “Alamar, you ass, it was
you
who conceived the stupid plan!” she shrieked, her voice shrill and piercing, Alamar clapping his hands to his head in agony.
    Grumbling, Rux stood and turned in a circle and lay back down again, eyeing the two accusingly.
    Moaning, Alamar got to his feet once more, his gaze avoiding that of the seething Pysk. “Well, there’s nothing for it,” he muttered. “I’ve got to get to the captain and have him turn back.”
    But just as he reached the cabin door—“Wait!” called Jinnarin. And as the Mage turned and looked at her—“Sit back down, Alamar. I’ve something to say.”
    “Look, Pysk, every moment we delay just puts us that much farther from—”
    “I said,
sit down!
”Jinnarin snarled through clenched teeth.
    With a sigh, Alamar plodded back to the bunk and slumped. After a moment of silence, he demanded, “Speak up, speak up. The ship sails on.”
    “Quiet!” she ordered. “I am gathering my thoughts.”
    The Pysk moved to Rux and sat on the floor and used the fox as a bolster.
    Alamar shook his head in exasperation…but he remained silent.
    At last Jinnarin looked at him. “Alamar, perhaps this stupid scheme isn’t so stupid after all. I mean, isn’t it true that Aravan has sailed the world over? And if that’s true, then who better to ask? Who else would know of a pale green sea? And, given that Aravan has indeed sailed all the seas of Mithgar, might he not know of the crystal castle? The black ship? Alamar, have you a better notion of who we might go to? Is there anyone other than Aravan who could better aid us in finding Farrix?”
    Alamar looked long at Jinnarin. Finally he said, “But that in turn means we have to find Aravan.”
    “You said that he was at Arbalin.”
    “I said, Jinnarin, that he sailed out of Arbalin. Thatdoesn’t mean he’s there now. In fact, it is most likely that he is
not
there.”
    “If not there, Alamar, then where?”
    “On his ship. On the
Eroean
,” Alamar said peevishly. “He does, after all, sail the seas you know, gadding about the world in search of adventure, of treasure, of rich cargo.”
    Jinnarin nodded. “Yes, I do know. But list, Alamar: soon or late he brings that rich cargo to Arbalin, neh?”
    “But that could take years, child,” protested Alamar.
    “Or merely days,” she rejoined.
    They sat without speaking, the silence broken only by the plash of waves against the hull and the rolling creak of ship’s timber and rope. At last Alamar said, “All right, Jinnarin, we will go to Arbalin. There we will seek Aravan, and if he is not there, then we will seek word of when he might come, or where we might find him. We will wait for six months, no more—”
    “A year,” interjected Jinnarin.
    “Six months,” repeated Alamar, glaring.
    “A year,” said Jinnarin again. “After all, Alamar, it
is
Farrix we are after. You remember him, don’t you, Farrix the boar killer?”
    Alamar winced. “That was a low blow, Pysk.…All right. You win. A