Intended or not, that was his course. A week later, whether the edge of the world boiled or lay calm, Milius'

ship was rolling through open sea toward it.

t Off the edge-she was off the edge of her own world when the last hills she knew sank behind the unfamiliar 'H' ones. Cru was back, and that a last true miracle from If- Padrec. If one barrow in her heart was opened and its H dead risen, another was sealed and must remain so. Doretei H mourned his going, but nothing stayed. She accepted that.

& It had to do with paying for what one got, and Cru need never know.

She didn't trust Milius or his tallfolk crew. The food was good, the water still fresh, but all of fhain felt a sickness in their bellies. On the second day out, making south along the Irish coast, one of the sailors said it had to do with the motion of the ship. Salmon found this dubi- ous; they'd ridden all their lives without this nausea.

"Dost lie," Cru said, sick as the rest. "Have been on

406 Mother's breast two tens of Bel-teins and one. Did never feel so close to death, even in uisge."

Something was amiss. They squatted about Dorelei among their animals, the miserable, messy children patted and washed and rewashed as they dampened the straw with clear fluid from their emptied, agonized stomachs.

Cru put the question for ail of them.

"Gern-y-fhain, what shall fhain do against these tallfolk?"

Since that morning, when she found Milius snooping near their treasure-sack for no good reason, Dorelei needed no reflection on the matter. "Milyod be nae a heart Eo trust. None of them."

"Do mean to kill us with this unnatural sickness and take fhain treasure," Neniane worried. "Do nae go west.

Dost Milyod think fhain ignorant of the sun? Sister hast flown with Mabh: tell us what to do."

That was already decided, Dorelei said, and wailed only on the act that must be now, before they were too weak to move. The sickness was an evil magic, but Salmon had broken evil before, prevailed even over Bruidda (may she be young forever), and prospered even inJesu. Clearly they were favored of all gods. This Milyod would quickly turn west. Dorelei described fhain's task in words they understood.

"This one or that among the tailfolk has the look of death about him. Just the look, mind, but must be ready."

Cru reached for his knife and honing stone, Malgon for his bow.

"Neniane and Guenloie will stay for now with the wealth." Doretei beckoned the men to follow her up the ladder to the deck.

Milius himself was at the tiller aft. The three Prydn stood just outside the hatchway for a moment, a little clump of determination, their eyes summing the situation, spying out a coil of rope. Then they drifted toward Milius, Cru bending to pick up the coiled line, paying out the end of it into a loop. Malgon casually inspected an arrowhead, strung bow under one arm.

"Milius," Dorelei approached him, "Ehee will turn west

now.

407.

He barely glanced at her, busy at the tiller. "Be off, woman, h isn't time."

"Be time long since. Turn west, Milyud."

"I said-"

"Cru!"

Behind Milius, Cru flowed like a shadow. His knife flashed, then the loop jerked tight around Milius's neck as Malgon kicked his feel out from under him. Before Milius could choke out halt a warning, he was lifted in arms loo strong for such a small man and sent flying over the side, arms flailing. Cru secured the line to the rail. The gulls squee-uked their gratitude. The fish would come now. They might get a few.

The thing happened so quickly, most of the crew still didn't know what had occurred when they heard the stran- gled cry for help. Then Sejus the navigator ielt the vibra- tion of the arrow as it drove into the rail between his legs, just a hair below what he held most dear. The mean-eyed tittle woman didn't even change expression, only beck- oned him to the yawing, abandoned tiller.

"West."

Quick as a Barbary ape, she leaped onto the aft rail.

hanging out from the shroud, calling to Milius, who floun- dered, clinging to the rope. "Thee bleeds, tdlltolk? Birds will smell it, and fish soon. Do go west with us, or east alone?"

He thrashed about. "Pu-pull me in." One of his arms was leaving a dangerous trail of blood in the water that sharks couTd trace from far away. "P-pull me in. Lay to!"

Dorelei looked back at the stunned crew and Malgon and Cru facing them with bow and sword. Once more she waved Sejus to the tiller. "West. Give the order, Milyod.

West!"

Sputtering, hanging on to the line, Milius spat out salt water and cried his will to Sejus. Dorelei gripped the rigging tighter as the craft heeled over. "Pufi up thy master."

A day later they were farther west than any man wanted to go. The first night after Minus' near-death, they planned to finish the Faerie for good and all and put about. Milius left one man at the tiller while they con- ferred on the foredeck in whispers: it's righted, we've

408 come about. Aye, headed back for land. Right then, on my signal . . .

Yet someone thought they saw the shadows move on the aft deck. Miiius caffed softly to the steersman. "Sejus?

You hear me?"

Then he fell the craft heel sharply over, coming about yet again.

"Come on."

They got no closer to the tiller than half a dozen yards before the shapes emerged from the shadows, the implacable woman and the limping man, and the archer to one side. Miiius saw thai the tiller was held firmly by the one called Guenloie while her absurdly small daughter clung to her leg.

"Where's Sejus? Where's my steersman?"

"There." Cru pointed to the form spread out in the rigging like a clumsy spider. A muffled, plaintive sound came from it. "Dost have the look of death."

"A's veins be opened," Dorelei informed them. "Must bind him up or lose him. West."

Miiius thought on it. Next to himself, Sejus was the only other competent navigator, and none of them that good so far from land.

Dorelei spoke to them without raising her voice. "Mark me. Next hand to turn us back will nae be bound up."

Miiius began to believe the stories about these crea- tures. They weren't human. They'd like to kill us, they'd enjoy ii. "Woman, this is not reasonable. You need us."

"Then would do thee much profit to slay alive, Milyod."

No, she'd never heard of reason, none of them had.

Insane. "You fool. do you know what you ask? Where you go? Two days, three at most. The edge. Nothing else."

"Lift the evil from our bellies."

"Nothing out there!" Miiius screamed at her. "An edge. Frost, fire, serpents big as three ships like this."

"Lift the evil."

Quite mad. They were plain men against demons who would kill for no prize but the act. At a sign from Dorelei, Cru twisted Miiius to his knees, the knife at his throat.