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corners of the compass. But they’ve been let loose
     all together and all at once, and as a consequence blow from all directions unaligned. You got us into this, now you have
     to get us out, or we’ll sit here and spin like a top until we sink!”
    Still dazed from the blow to the back of his head, Ehomba accepted the help of his friends to rise. Simna helped him up. Once
     erect, Hunkapa embraced him in an immovable grasp that held him steady.
    Observing the anarchic weather that had enveloped the
Grömsketter
, Ehomba thanked his friends and told Hunkapa to release him. The broad-shouldered man-beast complied reluctantly. All kept
     a wary watch on the herdsman as he half climbed, half slid down the steps that led to the main deck and disappeared below.
     Moments later he emerged with the sky-metal sword gripped tightly in one hand.
    Simna eyed him uncertainly. Along with everyone else, he had to shout to make himself heard above the howl of clashing winds.
     “Hoy, long bruther, what do you want with that? We need less wind, not more of it!”
    “Not less, Simna.” Ehomba wiped perspiration from his eyes and forehead. “What we have is what we need. It only wants some
     guidance.”
    Climbing back onto the helm deck, he made his way to the stern railing. There he tried to assume a solid stance, but the pitching
     and rolling of the ship made it impossible. Without using at least one hand to grip a stay or line, he kept stumbling from
     side to side, forward or back. Leaning against the railing helped a little, but when the bow of the
Grömsketter
rose sharply, the motion threatened to pitch him over the side.
    “This is not working,” he declared aloud.
    “I can see that, bruther!” Spitting seawater, Simna clung to the railing next to him. “What do you need? What do you want?”
     Spume-flecked wind shrieked in their ears.
    “My feet nailed to the deck, but that could cause problems later.” Grimly searching the ship, the herdsman espied the big
     cat standing foursquare and four-footed to the left of the helm, as stable as the mainmast. “Ahlitah! I need your help!”
    “What now?” Grumbling, the cat released its grip on the battered teak and turned. His extended claws held the decking as firmly
     as crampons on a glacier.
    “I need someone to brace me,” Ehomba told him. “Can you do it?”
    The big cat considered, yellow eyes glowing like lamps in the darkness of the rising storm. When lightning flashed, it was
     the same color as the master of the veldt’s pupils. “It’ll be awkward. My forelegs are not arms.”
    Ehomba pondered, then shouted again. “Hunkapa! Brace yourself against Ahlitah and hold me! Hold me as high up as you can!”
    “Yes, Etjole! Hunkapa do!”
    The litah set itself immovably against the back railing, the claws of each paw nailing themselves to the deck. Then Hunkapa
     Aub stepped across the cat’s back and straddled him, locking his shaggy ankles beneath the feline belly. With Hunkapa thus
     anchored to the litah, and Ahlitah fastened firmly to the deck, Hunkapa put huge, hirsute hands around the herdsman’s waist
     and lifted him skyward. The
Grömsketter
rocked in the wind and waves,she rolled and pitched, but on her helm deck the unlikely pyramid of cat, man-beast, and herdsman rode rigid and straight.
    Holding the haft of the sky-metal sword in both hands, Ehomba raised the otherworldly blade skyward, lifting it into the storm.
     When the flat, etched blade began to glow an impossibly deep, spectral blue, Simna immediately sought cover from something
     that he knew was more powerful than the conflicted storm itself.
    A gust struck the pulsating glow—and bounced off, shearing away to the west. A complete concentrated squall bore down on Ehomba,
     only to find itself shattered into a thousand timid zephyrs. Swinging the great blade, secure in Hunkapa Aub’s powerful grasp,
     Ehomba battled the winds.
    No stranger to danger, Stanager crouched close by Simna and