The Maumet stalked up and down the beach near the water, iron joints squealing. Then it paced over to the fallen drinling. Crouching, the Maumet extended a hand and changed color.

“Bronze,” Farfalee said, peering through her own telescope. “He touched the ring.”

Each of the drinlings had worn a few trinkets of diverse materials in case they fell in combat, to hopefully get the Maumet in a mood to sample substances. Jason knew the transformation was a good sign.

“Now obsidian,” Farfalee reported as the Maumet became a glossy black. “The pendant. And now brass, the buckle on his knife belt. It went for everything we planted. Now it’s moving toward the bucket.”

“We can see that much without lenses,” Drake murmured.

Jason swiveled his attention to Thag and the other drinling. Was the other survivor called Fo? Or had that been Fo back on the beach? They continued to row hard and had already put a fair amount of distance between themselves and the shore. Jason aimed the spyglass back at the Maumet.

Standing upright, brass body partially reflecting the water and the white sand, the creature stood over the abandoned bucket. Crouching, the Maumet touched the side of the bucket and turned to brown wood.

Jason held his breath.

“It’s reaching into the bucket,” Farfalee announced.

Jason lowered his spyglass, worried about the flash. Thag and the other drinling fell flat in the launch. Jason crouched, barely peeking over the side of the ship. Would it happen?

“He’s thinking about it,” Aram narrated hopefully.

Jason covered his ears, watching through squinted eyes. Would it happen? Would it happen?

Flaring a brilliant white, the Maumet erupted violently—a large primary blast followed by an enormous secondary explosion. The tremendous detonation sent vast quantities of sand and seawater spewing skyward. The concussion wave heaved water and sand outward and made the ship lurch, knocking Jason onto his backside. Even with his ears covered, the thunderous roar was painfully loud.

Regaining his feet, squinting as a peppering of debris began to rain down, Jason marveled at the steam and smoke mushrooming up from the blast site. Seawater surged to fill the gaping void of the blackened crater. Most of the white sand beach was simply gone, along with a great deal of the vegetation behind it.

The plan had worked! The Maumet had taken the bait, temporarily becoming orantium until the immediate consequence followed.

Thag and the other drinling stood up in the launch, pumping their fists in the air. Raucous cheering broke out aboard the Valiant. Drake hugged Farfalee, lifting her off her feet and twirling her around. Drinlings pantomimed the explosion and pointed at the churning smoke above the devastated beach.

Jasher clapped Jason on the back. “You just saved us all.”

Jason could barely understand the words, because his ears were still ringing. “We owe the drinlings who delivered the orantium.”

“They deserve thanks and praise,” Jasher agreed. “But the idea had to come first. You’re quite the trickster.”

“I’ll second that,” Aram exclaimed as heartily as his small frame would allow. “I’ll take cleverness over strength every time!”

Farfalee embraced Jason tightly. “You marvelous, brilliant boy!”

He had never seen Farfalee so unreserved. Nor Drake smiling so broadly. Jason hugged her back, enjoying the triumph of the moment.

Others pressed to congratulate him. Everyone was jubilant. The crew seemed even happier than when they had escaped the harbor. Hats were thrown high, some of them landing in the sea.

Jason realized that the threat of the Maumet had been hanging over them more heavily than any other concern. From the outset they had all known that this obstacle would probably end their lives. But now they had destroyed it with relatively few casualties. One massive blast and the threat had been vaporized.

Whooping and shouting along with the others, Jason managed to lose himself in the moment. There might be plenty of hardship still ahead of them, but right now they had a worthy cause for celebration.

CHAPTER 15

LIBRARY

Once the celebration over the demise of the Maumet subsided, the next phase of planning began. All agreed that haste was a top priority. They needed to secure the information from the library before the opportunity vanished. Even if the imperial forces of the Inland Sea did not know their current position, the tower of smoke rising into the atmosphere would be visible for many miles around. A number of vessels were likely to notice.

Within an hour Aram had the Valiant anchored off the eastern coast of Windbreak Island, just south of the new crater. Two launches made for shore, eight passengers in each, including Jason, Farfalee, Jasher, Drake, Aram, Nia, Heg, and a very pale and weary Corinne.

After landing on a strip of beige sand, Corinne flopped onto the beach, facedown, arms spread wide, as if trying to embrace the ground. Breathing deeply, she held the pose for a long moment. Jason squatted beside her, and she raised her head to look at him. Particles of sand clung to her lips, nose, and chin. Her face was ashen, with dark smudges under her eyes. Even worn out and sick, she remained pretty.

“Does it feel good to be back on land?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m better already. Not all the way back yet. Might take a little time. The warm sand feels divine. I almost feel like eating something on purpose.”

“We’ll have to be fast,” Jason said.

“Don’t you dare,” Corinne scolded.

“Our enemies could catch up any minute,” Jason explained.

“I know.”

“Farfalee said the research might take days.”

“I like her.”

Jason saw that the others were ready to move out. A pair of drinlings had been assigned to guard Corinne. “I have to go.”

“Take your time. I’ll come find you when I feel better.”

“Such a nice beach,” Jason said, looking up and down the narrow stretch of sand. “It would be a shame to barf all over it.”

Corinne threw a handful of sand at him. He could tell she was already feeling more like herself.

Jasher strode over to Corinne and laid the sheathed torivorian sword on the sand beside her. “This belongs with you.”

“Thanks. You’re welcome to take it.”

The seedman shook his head. “I have my own sword. I want you properly armed.”

Another group of drinlings was heading toward the beach in the skiff that had trailed the Valiant out of Durna. “What are they up to?” Jason asked.