Final Passage (The Prisoner and the Sun #3) by Brad Magnarella

Author:Brad Magnarella [Magnarella, Brad]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: metaphysical journey, quest for meaning, myth, hero's journey, fantasy series, metaphysical, fantasy, search for meaning, fairy tale, quest, allegory, metaphysical fiction, journey
Published: 2012-09-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Morning dawned on their ruined barge.

Iliff and Tradd righted and repaired what they could. Using planks from the supply cabin, they fashioned new mast poles, fastening them to the splintered stumps of the old ones before lashing them together at the top. Next, they spread the sail. It had suffered only small tears, fortunately, and Iliff sewed these closed. Once aloft, the sail held the wind, and the makeshift poles the sail, but they had no means by which to steer to barge.

Once more they looked to the fallen supply cabin for the remedy, finding it in the form of another plank and the top of the barrel that held their fresh water. It took some rigging to get the new oar to remain in the tholepins, but once there, the shaft and oak-barrel blade stood up to the sea.

Iliff swung the barge around until the sail filled, but the barge still sat crooked and half-sunken. The enormous timbers on which the barge rested shook and rolled. Several had broken free of their tethering. Water spewed from beneath the barge in places and foamed onto the deck.

Tradd tied a rope around his waist.

“What are you doing?” Iliff asked from the steering oar.

The rope ran to the side of the barge, and Tradd tugged it now to see that it was secure. More lengths of rope hung in coils from his upper arm. “If we don’t get the raft back together, the sea will pull it to pieces.”

“You’re going underwater?”

“I helped build this barge,” Tradd said, a touch of defiance in his voice. “I know what needs repairing.”

Iliff looked on him. He had made mistakes with Troll on their journey through the forest. He did not want to make the same mistakes with Tradd. After all, he had said it himself: Tradd was no longer a boy.

“All right,” Iliff said. “But be careful.”

Tradd nodded and lowered himself into the water. He took a large breath, puffed his cheeks, and plunged from sight. Soon Iliff could hear timbers shift and ropes creak in their drawing. A section of the barge lifted. Tradd emerged just long enough to inhale more air, then descended again.

This went on for the rest of the morning, with Iliff looking from the rope that secured Tradd back to the empty sea before them. Bit by bit, the raft corrected. Less water boiled up through the deck. When Tradd emerged for the last time, the barge felt lighter, as though the craft were riding over the sea again instead of plowing against it. He stood beside Iliff now, water streaming from his trousers, puddling around his gray toes. With his chin raised, he looked from side to side.

“Do you think it’ll come back?” he asked. “The monster?”

“It’s impossible to say. But at least we know how to repel it.” Iliff nodded to the sea before them. “Right now it is the skiff I’m most worried about.”

Skye awakened late that day. Though she had slept long, she hardly appeared rested.

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