Once on the ship, Kairos embraced Rhea, thankful to see her, yet he pulled away from her kisses. Her passion burned hotter than his, for the terrible fate that awaited Erika distracted him. He backed away and held her at a distance.

“Rhea. Tonight, my love. Yes, tonight I will show you my gratitude. Right now, my mind is spinning in a thousand circles. Think of what’s going to happen to your sister.” Kairos paced away from her. “We can’t leave her. We can’t.”

“Excuse me, you two, but I need to get home and off this horrid ship.” Olinda said as she staggered from the cabin, her face a greenish hue. “My body covets dry ground lest I not have any insides left.”

“The boat will launch momentarily,” Rhea assured her. “Kairos get a hold of yourself. You’re distressed. It must have been miserable for you being a prisoner. We’ll be home soon, and then you can forget all about this outlandish episode. It only takes a short while to weigh anchor.”

“No!” Kairos said. “No, we can’t go. We are not weighing anchor yet. Your sister’s life is at stake.”

“That’s ridiculous. Erika can take care of herself. She’s a warrior, remember? She’ll be fine,” Olinda interjected. “We need to go home.”

“She won’t be fine. They want to execute her,” Kairos argued. “And you, Rhea, helped to put her in that quandary.”

“Nonsense.” Their eyes locked, and she sobered. “Execute?”

“What did you think, Rhea? She killed their king.”

Rhea put her hand over her mouth and stepped back, her face flushed. “I should have kept quiet.”

“Yes. You should have. The situation called for diplomacy, my dear.”

“What can we do?”

Kairos felt his pocket for the parchment he had penned while in Arell’s castle. Troubled over their arrest, and more so over Erika’s secret, he gave into his wizardry instincts and wrote the details of the death of the Cho Nisi king. He recorded what Barin and Erika had told him. He considered leaving the memo on the dresser in hopes it would make its way to an elder but brought it with him instead, afraid it would incriminate the princess if they didn’t find out otherwise. Now, wisdom told him bringing this missive back to Prasa Potama would be useless. He pulled the letter out of his pocket and slapped it nervously in his hands.

“Someone needs to see this,” he muttered. Kairos swept across the deck, looking for any insignificant item that might float. A bottle. If he found a bottle, stuffed the note inside, and tossed it toward the beach, they’d find it.

“Kairos, what are you doing?”

He lifted a lid to a crate that held an assortment of articles. No bottles. He picked up a buoy still attached to a line.

“I’ve got to…” he mumbled, sensing Rhea watching him. “I’ve got to get this letter to them. Something that floats…”

“What letter?”

He stopped his rummaging and faced her, inhaling deeply to calm himself. “I wrote it all down. Everything that happened. She needs a defense, someone to speak up for her.”

“Well then, go take it to them.”

“Take it to them?”

“Yes, if you wrote it for their eyes.”

Kairos glanced toward shore. Smoke from a small campfire drifted into the air, and the sound of drums beat quietly in rhythm to the rocking surf.

“Yes, of course. I suppose it would make sense to hand it to the chief, wouldn’t it?”

“Be brave, Kairos. Please. For me. I would be sincerely grateful if you thought it would ease this trouble. Had I known the seriousness of this situation, I wouldn’t have been so vindictive.”

“I will relieve you of this burden.” He bowed cordially.

“Can you save her?”

“I’ll try. For you and for Erika,” he said. He might not be good with magic, and sometimes his confidence lacked. Still, Erika’s situation called for an immediate response, and he took it upon himself to do the right thing. Despite all the wild escapades Erika dragged him through, he held a fondness for her and considered himself her guardian, in a way. He had overheard the natives in their musings. He knew how angry they were over the death of their king, and how they sought retribution. Erika’s life hung by a thread. If a measly wizard did anything worthwhile in his life, it would be to save the princess.

If he had mustered any courage at all, Rhea held the blame. He clicked his heels and walked port side.

“You there, you sailors, lower a boat for me. A dinghy. Something I can row ashore. And don’t weigh anchor without me. I will be back momentarily. I hope. I just need to talk to someone before we set sail.”

The sailors were used to taking orders, especially from royalty. Their respect for a wizard seemed to be one notch higher. They pulled a small rowboat over the guardrail for him and showed how to lower himself on the ladders. A bit nerve-wracking, he found the act more difficult than when he climbed into the boat—balancing himself and trying to keep the rowboat stilled enough to get in. Still, he made it. Nighttime crept over the sea as he rowed toward the fire-lit beach. A few natives lingered, no doubt watching the King’s ship, making sure it departed.

Kairos looked up longingly at Rhea, wishing he hadn’t left the ship. He jostled the oars until the ends of them splashed in the water and then rowed with urgency, surprising himself that he should be so brave. The Cho Nisi frightened him with their solemn faces and large bodies, but he suffered through the tension. Erika had little chance of survival in their hands, especially if he didn’t deliver his message, and so he rowed hard until he worked up a sweat.

Once sand scraped against the bottom of the boat, Kairos stepped out into the water and pulled it aground. His legs shook, as did his hands. He felt his pocket again to make sure he hadn’t lost the letter.

The natives on the beach watched him with those intense expressions. Kairos avoided their eyes as he stumbled clumsily onto the shore. “Your leader, Chief Silas. Is he at hand?”

No one responded immediately. The fire crackled, and the breakers rolled quietly onto the beach. Finally, one of them pointed to a grove of low-growing trees and a pile of driftwood a few yards up the beach.

“Praying,” the man said.

Good, Kairos thought. Perhaps he’s praying for the princess. He wiped his hands on his robe, now wet at the hem, and weighed down with sand. Stars glimmered in the night sky, and the white beach glowed. When he arrived at the inlet where Chief Silas sat solemnly, beating softly on a drum and chanting, Kairos paused and looked around for a suitable place to sit. In order not to startle Silas, Kairos found a log in sight of the chief, sat, and listened. He cleared his throat twice, but the chief ignored him until he had finished his song. Kairos scratched his chin and peered at him, wondering how to begin.

“You worry?” The chief finally broke the silence.

“Yes…yes,” he stuttered. “I am worried. She…Erika didn’t mean to kill your king.”

Chief Silas grunted.

“I…I don’t want to have to tell her father that you…your elders killed her.”

“You must tell her father the truth,” the man said, and scowled.

“Yes, I’m aware of that. What I mean is, I don’t want that to be the truth.”

“No one wanted our king brought home to the grave, either.”

His words sounded merciless. The chief’s tone gave Kairos chills. He hadn’t expected Silas to be so cold and not at all conversational. Kairos shifted his weight and looked at the Potamian ship moored near shore, wondering if this plea for mercy would make a difference. Kairos cracked his knuckles and took a deep breath, struggling to form precise words.

“What will your elders do to her?”

Silas shrugged and lifted his head. A proud man, Kairos wondered if that pride came from capturing the princess. The sparkle of starlight glimmered in the chief’s dark eyes.

“You want me to tell you how we’ve executed criminals in the past?”

“Yes. That would help.”

“No one has ever murdered our king before. It will be different this time. More brutal.”

Kairos cringed. “What happened to your worst offender?”

Silas thought for a while, set his drum aside, and closed his eyes.

“A man killed a child in his anger. He had a history of being enraged. He beat his wife. A Cho Nisi shame-act. It happened a few years ago. I’ve not seen anything like it since, except for this.”

The story seemed to be an unequal comparison, but Kairos nodded. “What did your council do to him?”

“The council strung him up to a tree and lashed him with olive sticks until he bled. After that, the villagers released their anger on him. The men took up rods, and whoever had a grievance struck him. They bruised him badly, his ribs cracked, his bones broken. They hit him on the skull. He died. It took a long time. All day. We buried him in the hills.” Silas nodded toward the eastern shore. “No one likes to do those things, but we must uphold justice. It’s how we keep our village clean. We have no crime here.” He looked Kairos in the eye. “Many of our people despise the killer of our king.”

Kairos swallowed. With trembling hands, he pulled the letter from his cloak pocket and held it tight, waiting for an opportune moment. The chief glanced at the letter.

“Silas, I’ve spent time with Erika. She’s remorseful.”

“We are all remorseful.”

Kairos tried hard not to stutter, for this may be the most important thing he’d ever do in his life. More important than casting a spell or disintegrating a skura.

“Please, just hear me out. She’s a young lady who made a terrible mistake. I’m pleading for mercy for her. That’s all. I’m not saying she didn’t do wrong. She did. She knows it.”

The chief picked up his drum, as though he didn’t want to hear Kairos’ pleas any longer. The drumbeat droned on. When Silas stopped, he looked at the wizard again. “You wield magic?”

“Yes.”

“Cho Nisi has greater magic.”

“You do. However, if we combined our magic, no telling what would happen.”

Silas grunted.

“There’s a dark lord that threatens us all,” Kairos mentioned.

“This we know.” Silas said.

“With your powers and mine combined, we would have more power than he does.” Kairos agreed.

“Perhaps. We may have to fight together some day again. Your king and ours,” Silas said.

“That’s right. Only, I’m not so sure our king will be all that happy with yours if you…if you…” swallowed again, sweat trickled down his temple. “If you torture and kill his daughter.” Though his hands still shook, Kairos handed the chief the envelope.

“Give your king this letter at Erika’s trial, if you give trials. I hope you do. Maybe King Arell will read it to your elders. Please.”

Chief Silas took the sealed letter and tucked it into his belt.

“How much time do we have?”

Silas met his gaze. His dark eyes were stern, intimidating, and mysterious. “We have trials. We are not boors. We will consider all things.” He patted his belt where he had secured the letter.

He didn’t speak again, nor did they make eye contact after that.. Kairos sighed as the drum sounded. The conversation had ended. The wizard walked back toward the ship, his feet unconsciously stepping in time to Silas’ rhythm. He’d done the best he could.