And the gale blew, blew more and more strongly. And drove bigger and bigger waves towards the shore. The crashing of the waves intensified, becoming louder and louder. It soon stopped being just a crash. It was a monotonous and dull booming, like the thudding of some infernal machine. The waves grew, rollers topped by white foam crashed onto the shore. The ground was trembling beneath people’s feet. The gale howled.

Echo and Pandora Parvi were unable to flee. They returned to the harbour and dropped anchor.

The awestruck and terrified cries of the people gathered on terraces sounded louder and louder. Outstretched arms pointed at the sea.

The sea was one great wave. A colossal wall of water. Apparently rising to the height of the galleons’ masts.

Coral grabbed the Witcher by the arm. She said something, or rather tried to speak, but the gale gagged her effectively.

“—way! Geralt! We have to get away from here!”

The wave descended on the harbour. People were screaming. The pier splintered and disintegrated under the weight of the mass of water, posts and planks went flying. The dock collapsed, cranes broke and fell over. A boat and launches moored by the wharf flew into the air like children’s toys, like boats made of bark launched in the gutter by street urchins. The cottages and shacks near the beach were simply washed away without leaving a trace. The wave burst into the river mouth, immediately turning it into some diabolical whirlpool. Crowds of people were fleeing from Palmyra, now under water, most of them running towards the upper city and the guardhouse. They survived. Others chose the riverbank as their escape route. Geralt saw them engulfed by the water.

“Another wave!” yelled Dandelion. “Another wave!”

It was true, there was another. And then a third. A fourth. A fifth. And a sixth. Walls of water rolled into the harbour and the port.

The waves struck the ships at anchor with immense force, and they thrashed about frantically. Geralt saw men falling from the decks.

Ships with their prows turned to windward fought bravely. For some time. They lost their masts, one after the next. Then the waves began to wash over them. They were engulfed by the foam and then re-emerged, were engulfed and re-emerged.

The first not to reappear was the post clipper Echo. It quite simply vanished. A moment later the same fate befell Fuchsia; the galley simply disintegrated. The taut anchor chain tore out the hull of Alke and the cog disappeared into the abyss in a flash. The prow and fo’c’sle of Albatross broke off under the pressure and the remains of the ship sank to the bottom like a stone. Vertigo’s anchor was wrenched off, the galleon danced on the crest of a wave, was spun around and shattered against the breakwater.