"All ahead full!" Ssskah bellowed, to Rao who descended below deck.
"Direction?" Captain Phetmolge shouted.
"Straight ahead! It's behind us!" My‑re called out, looking over her shoulder. "Gaining fast!"
The ship lurched forward, causing everyone to catch their balance.
Sheila Greywand said, "If it was slow and gargantuan, it is Grumpy. He hunts at dawn, and there is no cause for alarm. I trained him to ignore anyone holding the Grey Wand. Shine a light on an object, and he will go, assuming it is something to eat."
My‑re said, "No, it was moving fast in the water. I don't think the Lake of Mists’ monster is dead."
Sheila Greywand's brow furrowed, and she moved past My‑re and said, "Follow." They proceeded to the railing at the aft section of the Nightie. "Shine the lantern out there. I need a target."
The night shrouded the lake, and the mist lay like a blanket on the water. My‑re watched for any sign of the creature. Nothing.
Sheila pointed the Grey Wand outward toward the lake and asked, "Are you sure you saw-"
The mist parted. A bulge appeared from under the water.
An electrical bolt arched from Sheila into the lake, temporarily blinding My‑re. A geyser of water exploded upward.
"Extinguish the lights! Instruct Captain Phetmolge to begin evasive maneuvers!" Sheila shouted over the crack of bolts arching from her wand into the lake. "Summon Tim the Enchanter to my side!"
"Put those lights out!" My‑re yelled, pointing as she ran across the deck. The Lord Protectors started to extinguish them again.
The Nightie went dark and turned from one side to the other. An eerie quiet followed along with the trireme. For untold minutes, no one moved or made a sound. My‑re returned with Tim the Enchanter to Sheila, who now stood near Captain Phetmolge at the massive wheel. The Nightie moved through the Lake of Mists as the rowers pushed the ship slowly through the waters without any undue noise.
Captain Phetmolge whispered as he turned the Nightie's wheel to port, "We're sailing blind. These are dangerous waters with shallow sand reefs. We'll need light to avoid running aground."
"I'm warning you. The light will draw the creature to us," Tim the Enchanter said, gripping his staff tightly with two hands.
"Maintain course to the Isle of the Eye. As we draw near, the lights from shore will be our guide," Sheila explained.
"Lady Greywand, the tide is still out. With half of the oars gone, the Nightie won't make southern port until after dawn. The creature still pursues us, and at first light, we'd be no better off than a Total Parry scum against an Aimed Blow," Ssskah, the tuxedo-colored were-cat, said.
"Suggestions?" Sheila asked.
"We could use the dinghy to ferry people to shore from here," Ssskah said.
"That'd take at least an hour and likely more. If the creature attacked, it would not bode well for the people in the rowboat. Everyone would be better off swimming and then running when the water lessened," My‑re said.
"There is a way. The western shore of the island. Deep enough for the hull of the Nightie to pass through," Phetmolge said. "However, navigating without light would be-"
"The Suicide Gate?" Ssskah asked, interrupting him. "No sane captain has attempted sailing through the Suicide Gate in a hundred years."
"A hundred and fifty-six years, to be precise," Sheila corrected.
"What's the Suicide Gate?" My‑re asked.
Ssskah said, "There is a saying, 'All roads lead to the Isle of the Eye, and the heart of Alastari is the Isle of the Eye.' A hundred and fifty-six years ago, a brash twenty-year-old warlord named Bannock led a Rirorni incursion into Alastari. He sacked every village, town, and fortress. He routed each army thrown against him. Some said even the gods themselves dared not challenge him. However, unlike other Rirorni invasions that paused to loot and pillage, Bannock sought decisive battles and marched straight to the heart of Alastari, where the remaining defense forces had retreated. On the far western shores of the Isle of the Eye, he cut down the surrounding forests and built a massive armada to sail across and take Alastari for the Rirorni Empire."
"Yes, I almost forgot about Bannock. A very trying time," Sheila commented.
"So, he was defeated attacking the island," My‑re snorted.
"No, he was not," Sheila replied.
"I don't understand. The Isle of the Eye is here. You are here, and the Lord Protectors are here?" My‑re questioned.
"It was clear he was building transport vessels. His past patterns indicated he would head straight toward the island's western gate and port," Sheila said.
"Why announce where he'd be attacking?" My‑re asked.
"Arrogance, but rightly earned. He had not lost and wanted a decisive battle against the Alastarian forces. I presented my army in full view of his scouts," Sheila said.
"But if he saw it, couldn't he land elsewhere on the island?" My‑re asked.
"My infiltrators kept me informed. There was no other port to land a massive fleet. I presented him with what he wanted, but I chose the battlefield. The western port was death's ground with no retreat. We would battle to the last. If he won, Alastari would be his," Sheila explained.
"But there is no western port?" My‑re inquired.
"Correct, not anymore. While he built his armada over the months, at night, my forces filled the port's waters with traps and anything else to lower the sea level.
“We prepared the battleground," Sheila said.
"Everywhere but a small main route to the docks," Ssskah commented.
"Why?" My‑re asked.
"Simple. I knew my enemy. Bannock would lead the armada and come straight down the middle, which is what I expected, and he obliged. As his flagship sailed unmolested, the remaining ships beached themselves on the unseen debris underneath the water. Fire arrows finished off the stranded ships and crew, and we captured Bannock's dreadnaught," Sheila said.
"Along with Bannock?"
"No, Bannock came to learn caution. He remained on the far shore and not aboard with his men. His flagship captured, his armada burning, and no wood for miles around, he would never again attempt what he called-" Sheila paused, thinking, and then uttered a phrase in Rathiri, the Rirorni native language.
"The Suicide Gate," My‑re translated.
"Yes, Bannock withdrew with his demoralized forces back south," Sheila said.
"So, he was defeated?" My‑re probed.
"We blunted his momentum, but he still commanded a sizable force that plundered the countryside for another six months. Until he had a…fatal heart attack," Sheila said and cleared her throat.
"At twenty years old?" My‑re questioned.
Sheila shrugged her shoulders. "After his death, the remaining commanders started in-fighting and disbanded. Most returned to the Rirorni Empire, some assimilated into Alastari culture, and others continued looting and pillaging but were eventually dealt with."
“So, a waterway remains deep enough for the Nightie to sail to the old western port?" My‑re inquired.
"In theory," Captain Phetmolge said. "Again, I'd need light to see, and sailing for it in the dark would be…"
"Suicide," My‑re finished.
Captain Phetmolge nodded.
"So, what do we do? Attempt to sail south to port, ferry people to shore while the tide is still out, or attempt the forgotten western gate?" Ssskah asked.
"I am not abandoning the Nightie," Captain Phetmolge stated.
Sheila paused, then said, "My‑re, you have gotten us this far. What do you say?"
Their eyes turned to her. My‑re felt uncomfortable as heat rushed to her face at the unwanted attention. She thought the Lake of Mists’ monster still tracked them. Dawn approached, so she doubted they'd make the far southern port with half their oars functioning before first light. Using the dinghy to bring the Lord Protectors to shore now would be risky when dawn broke. There wasn't enough time. Besides, what Lord Protector was going to leave their fellows behind? It would also condemn Phetmolge and the Nightie to a watery fate, so that left the last option of the western port. She liked that one least of all.
"Dawn approaches," Ssskah said, looking to the east.
"My‑re, your decision?" Sheila Greywand asked.
"Set course for the Suicide Gate."