The Avowed levered the oars straight down then swept them back, grunting and heaving. The vessel slowed so suddenly that Shimmer had to take a step for balance against the loss of motion. The Master’s thick matted brows shot up in amazement and wonder. Havvin hooted his laughter.

All became quiet but for the splash of the waves, and, distantly, the roar of an unseen surf.

‘Ahead slow,’ the Master called, then cocked an eye to Shimmer, who motioned for him to take over.

Blues crossed to Havvin, who was pushing and heaving on the thick tiller arm. ‘Need any help, old timer?’

‘Nay. A gentle touch is all’s needed. Like caressing a woman.’

Blues shot an amused glance to Shimmer, who suppressed a smile. ‘We’re in good hands then,’ Blues supplied.

‘Oh, I could tell stories,’ Havvin answered, and he cackled his mad laughter once again.

‘Point starboard!’ a lookout called.

The lashing of the tiller arm creaked as Havvin edged it a touch over. The Master still held his beard in one fist, and now he reached out and clenched the stern deck railing in a grip so tight and white it looked to Shimmer as if not even the strongest impact could dislodge him.

Yells of surprise and horror suddenly went up as something immense and night-black loomed out of the murk. One of the soldiers this was, pillar of rock all webbed in spray, seaweed and barnacles where it met the waves. Its top stood too tall to see and its girth was a third of their vessel’s length.

Levin turned to cast an appalled look to his master, who merely smiled his mad grin, then shot Shimmer another wink. Calls sounded from the lookouts and she spun: the bonfire had come once more into view.

‘Lower the launch!’ Master Ghelath shouted.

‘Get us closer,’ Shimmer called.

‘Close enough!’ he answered, fierce. ‘I’ll not risk everyone for this.’

Shimmer had to acknowledge something of the soundness of that and so with her teeth clenched tight she sent a curt nod to Bars.

Bars grasped a sailor by the nape of his neck to set him on to his oar, then ran to where sailors were readying the long slender launch. He called out names to accompany him as he went.

Mael’s Greetings slowly edged closer to the pillars emerging in ever denser numbers from the waves. The sight reminded Shimmer of descriptions of the dolmens of Tien, except that those were carved and built by humans. This formation was so immense, and appeared to be rooted so far below the ocean, it could only be the work of the gods, or of nature itself.

Some of the pillars were quite short, hardly topping the surf, and were washed by the larger breakers. It was on one of these short pillars, standing just above the waves, that the bonfire blazed.