As the sun baked overhead, Idro's arms felt like noodles, and his brain was weary from fighting the feeling that Imrahil would abandon him.
He wouldn't betray… but he has already betrayed the people that my father fought for. Who's to say he wouldn't betray me? Or at least decide not to come to help me out of fear that he would look weak to the Bankers, he pondered.
Behind him, Saphira showed a slight smile as she thought of her success. That was easy … now how do you motivate a selfless brother to betray the prince? Bribery? No, this fellow is too noble for that. Maybe pity him and play into why he should be treated with more respect? Perhaps downplay what will happen to his brother if he is captured? So many options, but which one should I choose?
Suddenly, a lightning strike woke both of them from their pondering. A realization hit Saphira: she had forgotten to redirect their course, allowing them to stray into unfamiliar waters. She and Idro both hesitantly looked to the horizon as a storm inched towards them like the cold stare of a monster licking its lips.
All Idro could do was stare at the storm wide-eyed. He had studied storms at the palace growing up and knew that this one was not an ordinary storm, for it stretched as far as the eyes could see and was completely black.
So many unanswered questions. … and so much I want to say to my family, especially Imrahil, Idro thought. I can't leave without knowing Imrahil's heart and without trying to fan his spirit back into the courageous boy I knew.
As Idro continued to stare at the storm, a memory surfaced he didn't know he had. His mother's voice singing softly:
"When the tidal waves come a-rollin'
Under the thunderous storm
Remember my sweet voice
And it will light your way home."
Idro felt a surge of courage wash over him, of hope, shaking him out of his trance.
"We have to get out of here; I need help rowing," Idro commanded.
"Nice try, but I think you can get us out of here in enou-" Saphira was cut short as another lightning bolt struck the water 10 feet away.
"Give me an oar," Saphira commanded.
The two desperately tried to outrun the storm. But with every couple of strokes, they heard a strike just far enough away to make them pick up their pace. Soon, their efforts could not stop the force of the waves pulling them farther from the coast and closer to the storm, drawing in its prey. Soon, they were soaking wet as the cold seeped into their aching bones. They frantically looked for any sign of an island.
My training did not prepare me for this, Saphira thought as she quickly ran through her skills from the Order to find a lifeline, but none came. I failed my master. Kardan... Kadsha...Malif, what will they think? Then, an unwelcome thought crossed her mind: What would my parents think of me now, an assassin who towed her prisoner to his death? Surprisingly, Saphira was most ashamed of her interaction with Kardan: his friendly face turning downcast struck deep in her soul. What would Kardan think, she thought as her shoulders slumped.
Over minutes, the calm sea was turned into an unending series of tumultuous waves lifting and lowering the small boat Idro and Saphira clung to. Idro looked back at the once fierce eyes of his captor and saw only frightened eyes matching his own. The sky overhead was dark as the boat slowly started to spin.
"I'm not going to die this way...we have to make it out!" Idro shouted as he continued to row with all his might.
Looking around frantically, Saphira began to lose hope until she remembered a voice that she had not thought of in a long time: her father's.
There were many times, my treasure, that me and the lads were pulled into a storm. But the captain always told us to outrun the storm if we could. If not, then why, let the storm be the master and row into it. We would always find an island to hunker down until the storm past.
"We have to row into the storm!" Saphira shouted in reply to Idro.
"What! We have to keep trying!" Idro replied.
Frustrated, she tried to reason with this dull imbecile, "No, my father was a seaman and he always said if you couldn't outrun a storm, row into it, so that you work with the storm, increasing your chance of finding land!".
Understanding flashed across Idro's eyes. With a nod, Idro and Saphirra rowed out of the spin and began to row in the darkest direction.
Over the next several hours, Saphira and Idro worked together to steer the boat as the monster grabbed hold of their vessel and pulled its prey closer and closer. However, after the first hour, the sea around them became less monstrous until, battered and weary, Saphira and Idro could see the storm's center.
The center was passing over a small island that was nothing more than a hill with narrow palm trees jutting at odd angles. On the left side was a massive rock jutting at a similarly weird angle. Idro pointed frantically, "There! That should work for a shelter!". Idro let out a triumphant whoop. Saphira smiled genuinely and chuckled in gratitude before quickly shutting down her emotion. Drat, I'm starting to let my guard down.
Without the force of the storm, Saphirra and Idro raced toward the small island before the center of the storm passed it by. As they came within 10 yards of it, their progress came to a halt, and then they started to float farther away from the hill as if the sea was unwilling to let them go. As the island began to slip away, the two redoubled their efforts. Is that island shaking? What storm could be this fierce? Idro wondered. After what seemed like an eternity, the storm released its grip allowing Saphira and Idro to break free of it, arriving at the hill.
They quickly pulled the boat onto the shore and ran onto the solid ground. As they made their way to the rock formation, the storm began to beat down on them. As they stumbled closer, pushing against the howling wind, they saw a large boulder leaning slightly over a trench surrounded by undergrowth.
"We can make shelter here," Saphira stated. Hopefully, I can make up some of the ground I lost with this one. Idro did not object, flopping down in the trench in exhaustion. At first, Saphira thought she should force him to gather undergrowth and wood to make a fire, but then thought better of it. Perhaps I can gain this man's trust if I show him a bit of kindness.
As she rummaged through the foliage, her boots sunk into the mud. After a few minutes, her boot hit something hard underneath the ground, but her foot was only an inch or two in the mud. Weird, she thought as she shook her head. She scraped enough wood from a palm tree to make a small fire using her knives. He looked up at her wearily as she set the firewood and undergrowth by Idro. "Fine, I can make us a fire," she grumbled.
"Thank you," Idro said with genuine surprise in his voice.
As she started arranging the bark, she smiled slightly to herself despite shivering from the cold. After a few minutes, the fire, nothing to brag about but sufficient, revived the two of them. Neither one had the strength to go forage for something to eat, so they leaned back against the two trench walls instead. As they stared into the firelight, Saphirra began to plan how to arrive at the cabin on time.
All of a sudden, she was interrupted by a memory of singing. She tried to banish it, keep her emotions in check, but she couldn't. Frustrated, she looked up at the boulder but noticed her prisoner humming softly to himself. Her frustrations melted away as she stared at Idro. She wanted to stop him, but something held her back.
Idro glanced up and started before explaining with a nervous chuckle, "I'm not losing my wits. It's a song my mother used to sing to me. It's the only memory I have of her. It makes me feel as if everything is going to work out."
Faining a nonchalant attitude, Saphirra asked, "What are the words to it?"
Idro meant to sing but croaked in reply:
"When the tidal waves come a-rollin'
Under the thunderous storm
Remember my sweet voice
And it will light your way home."
Idro cleared his throat before singing another verse. Saphira shut her eyes, but not before a tear escaped and rolled down her cheek as she listened to her mother's song.