The boat SeaSwan set sail, its crew consisting of Samilcar, Salvarad, Scriptail, and Maska. Goldorran had allowed Maska to leave, for indeed, the Sea Queen was not currently needed. Salvarad rummaged about in their supplies, looking for things with which to make soup. Scriptail was very interested in cooking. “So how do you make a soup? What do you need?” Salvarad answered, “Well, it depends on what kind of soup you want to make.” Scriptail nodded. “What kind of soup is this?” “This is a salty sea stew, good and hearty, also nice and hot,” replied Salvarad. “Sal, would you mind not making so much noise down there?” called out Samilcar. “Sure Sammy, just teaching Scrippy ‘ere ‘ow t’ make soup.” Samilcar sighed. “Alright then, just don’ call me Sammy, right?” “Right!”

Legaw Leboack gazed over the heaving deeps. Surely there was land there... Narrowing his eyes against the wind, Legaw stared at the small blotch on the horizon. At the tiller of Emerald Deep Awyaewire Ajnsne also squinted at the dot on the ocean. Legaw turned to him. “Get eagle-eyes, and be quick about it, Awyae!” Eagle-eyes was Aral MacTawnler, a tall, sinewy albino ferret. They called him eagle-eyes because of his excellent eyesight. Aral joined Legaw at the prow, as Awyaewire scrambled back to the tiller. “Yes?” asked Aral. “Over there, what’s that dot?” Aral stared at it for a while, then pronounced, “Ship.” “Ship!?” Aral nodded. “Aye, ship.” Legaw sighed. No land on which to seek shelter from the storm. Tehr Marlath sidled over. “Land?” he asked hopefully. “No,” answered Legaw.