Moonrise Bay

The fleet sailed northwest from Gozo in the direction of Atiq on the Libyan coast. The afternoon sun had nearly touched the horizon, and the passengers were waiting to see if the Queen was going to make good on her promise to find them a place to land by the end of the day. When they reached an enormous gulf on their port side, the flagship turned southward into protected waters, and the fleet followed. They were far from Atiq or any other city. There were no shimmering temples, no fluttering whirligigs, no pans of salt, just the silhouette of an unremarkable landscape backlit by a dazzling orange sky.

On the Phoenix, the temple maidens were leading the prayer to Shalim, the god of twilight, when Hannu, on watch up in the rigging, called out that there was something peculiar on the western horizon. The passengers shaded their eyes against the brilliance of the sun and tried to identify the dark cloud rising from the distant shore.

“It could be smoke from a brush fire,” one of the sailors suggested, “or a dust funnel spiraling off the sand.”

 The cloud rose and spread quickly and soon blocked out the sun, casting the Phoenix into shadow. The passengers squinted into the weirdly eclipsed sunset and tried to make sense of what they were seeing. Seconds later, the cloud rose even higher, and the sun broke through, bathing its underside in orange light. A panicked Sage passenger called out, “It’s a sky pan of hot embers!”

Another shouted, “And it’s heading our way!”

The temple maidens repeated the chant to Shalim, thinking that perhaps they had omitted something. Still, the glowing cloud continued toward the ships. The seafarers turned to the sailors for an explanation, but the sailors had none. Even the captain shook his head. Amaal and Uru sidled up to the Tillerman. Amaal tried to read his face as he observed the strange formation. His expression was, as best as she could tell, one of curiosity.

The sun sank below the horizon, and the orange color drained from the sky. The phantom cloud, now black as pitch, continued toward them. The Sage passengers huddled and cowered and bawled like feral cats.

“It’s a demon!” someone shouted.

“It’s coming to steal our souls!”

“The gods are warning us!”

“We must leave this place!”

They begged the captain to turn back, but the Phoenix continued on course with the fleet.

Amaal glanced again at the Tillerman. He looked back at her with a familiar expression that told her he knew something the others did not. He tilted his head toward the cloud. She looked, and all at once, she saw them: the wide wings, the long legs and necks, the curved, black beaks. The cloud of a thousand flamingos passed directly overhead like the hull of a skyward ship sailing above them. The seafarers covered their ears against the din as the huge, honking mass flew eastward. The animals aboard the ships went mad in their cages, screeching and bleating and calling out to their wild brethren to set them free. Eventually, the flock passed, but then, unexpectedly, it turned in a gigantic arc, and the flamboyance passed over the ships again, winging westward toward land and their evening roost.

So it was that the flamingos escorted the fleet into a bay. No one gave an order to follow them; the ships just went that way. The birds disappeared into the night, the last honk faded away, and, as Elishat had promised, the ships furled their sails, steered into formation three abreast, and dropped anchor into the calm, dark water offshore of wherever they happened to be.

The passengers chatted among themselves, laughing uncomfortably, and pretending they had been unafraid of the natural marvel they had mistaken for a demon.

Amaal gave the Tillerman a look. “You knew those were birds, didn’t you?”

He returned a chuckle. “I did not. I only know that the unknown usually turns out to be less frightening than it first appears.”

The waning moon peeked over the eastern horizon and flooded the deck with light. Amaal, Uru, and Hannu prepared their beds in cramped quarters for the night.

“I can’t believe we’re really finally here,” Amaal said.

Uru, feeling much better after her night of fever, said excitedly, “To think that this might be our last night on the Phoenix!”

“I sure hope so.” Hannu said. “I can’t even stretch my legs without kicking that stupid rabbit cage.”

Amaal said, “It doesn’t seem real.”

Uru said, “It’s as if we’re all asleep and having the same dream.”

Hannu said, “Well, it’s real. It’s the Libyan coast.

Uru signed something that made Hannu laugh.

“What?” Amaal said.

“She said, “If it isn’t stolen by sky demons during the night.” They chuckled lightheartedly and settled down to sleep.

← Chapter 53 | Chapter 55 →