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said, filled with gratitude. “There were dozens of those things in
there. They would have killed me.”
    She looked him,
her light blue eyes hypnotizing, so large.
    “Those creatures
are the least of your worries here,” she said.
    They sailed on
in silence, Merk slowly regaining his feet and watching the horizon, sure to
grip the rail tightly, with both hands this time. He examined the horizon, but as
much as he watched it, he saw no sign of the Three Daggers. He looked down and
studied the waters of the Bay of Death with a new respect and fear. He looked
carefully, and saw swarms of small red sharks under the surface, barely
visible, hidden mostly by the waves. He knew now that entering that water meant
death—and he could not help but wonder what other creatures inhabited this body
of water.
    The silence
deepened, punctuated only by the howling of the wind, and after hours more
passed, Merk, feeling desolate out here, needed to talk.
    “What you did
what that staff,” Merk said, turning to Lorna. “I have never seen anything like
it.”
    Lorna remained
expressionless, still watching the horizon.
    “Tell me about
you,” he pressed.
    She glanced at
him, then looked back to the horizon.
    “What would you
like to know?” she asked.
    “Anything,” he
replied. “Everything.”
    She fell silent
a long time, then finally, she said:
    “Start with you.”
    Merk stared back,
surprised.
    “Me?” he asked. “What
do you want to know?”
    “Tell me about
your life,” she said. “Anything you want to tell me.”
    Merk took a deep
breath as he turned and stared into the horizon. His life was the one thing he did
not want to talk about.
    Finally, realizing
they had a long journey ahead, he sighed. He knew he had to face himself at one
time or another, even if he was not proud of it.
    “I’ve been an
assassin most my life,” he said slowly, regretfully, staring into the horizon,
his voice grave and filled with self-loathing. “I’m not proud of it. But I was
the best at what I did. I was in demand by kings and queens. No one could rival
my skills.”
    Merk fell into a
long silence, trapped in memories of a life he regretted, memories he would
rather not recall.
    “And now?” she
asked softly.
    Merk was
grateful to detect no judgment in her voice, as he usually did with others. He sighed.
    “Now,” he said, “it
is not what I do anymore. It is not who I am anymore. I have vowed to renounce
violence. To put my services to a cause. Yet, try as I do, I cannot seem to get
away from it. Violence seems to find me. There is always, it seems, another
cause.”
    “And what is
your cause?” she asked.
    He thought about
that.
    “My cause,
initially, was to become a Watcher,” he replied. “To devote myself to service. To
guard the Tower of Ur, to protect the Sword of Flames. When that fell, I felt
my cause was to reach the Tower of Kos, to save the sword.”
    He sighed.
    “And yet now
here we are, sailing through the Bay of Death, the Sword gone, the trolls
following, and heading to a barren chain of islands,” Lorna replied with a
smile.
    Merk frowned,
unamused.
    “I have lost my
cause,” he said. “I have lost my life’s purpose. I do not know myself anymore.
I do not know my direction.”
    Lorna nodded.
    “That is a good
place to be,” she said. “A place of uncertainty is also a place of possibility.”
    Merk studied her,
wondering. He was touched by her lack of condemnation. Anyone else who had
heard his tale would vilify him.
    “You do not
judge me,” he observed, shocked, “for who I am.”
    Lorna stared at
him, her eyes so intense it was like staring into the moon.
    “That was who you were ,” she corrected. “Not who you are now. How can I judge you for who
you once were? I only judge the man standing before me.”
    Merk felt
restored by her answer.
    “And who am I now?”
he asked, wanting to know the answer, unsure of it himself.
    She stared at
him.
    “I see a fine
warrior,” she replied.