The islands lay weeks behind them, long sunk beneath the horizon so they were little more than a memory of lush trees, peaceful people and exotic fruit. All around was the sea, languid and flat. High above, the sun hammered down on Catriona, the single-masted vessel that had carried them from Alba across the Western Ocean and down the great rivers of the New World.
Catriona"There is not a whisper of wind." Melcorka lay at the tiller, fanning her face with a broad-brimmed hat. "No birds, not even an insect. It is as if God has forgotten to put life into this part of His world." Standing up, she shouted and the sound of her voice was lost in the vast abyss that surrounded them. "Nothing!"
"It"s hot." Bradan pulled on the oars, looked up at the sail that hung limp and useless, and pulled ag
