They went aboard. "The Sea of Demons lies due north," said Shorzon. "Is that the right way to sail?" "For the time being," nodded Corun. "When we get closer, I'll be able to tell you more exactly." "Then you may as well wash and rest," said Chryseis. "You need both." Her smile was soft in the flickering red light. Corun entered the cabin. It was divided into three compartments--apparently Imazu slept with his men, or perhaps on deck as many men preferred. His own tiny room was clean, sparsely furnished with a bunk and a washbowl. He cleaned himself eagerly and put on the fresh tunic laid out for him. When he came back on deck the ship was already under way. A strong south wind was blowing, filling the dark sail, and the _Briseia_ surged forward under its thrust. The phosphorescence shone around her hull and out on the rolling waters. Behind, the land faded into the night. He'd certainly been given no chance to escape, he thought. Barring miracles, he had to go through with it now--at least until they reached the Sea of Demons, after which anything might happen. He shivered a little, wondering darkly whether he had done right, wondering what their mission was and what the world's fate was to be as a result of it. Chryseis slipped quietly up to stand beside him. The erinye crouched down nearby, his baleful eyes never leaving the man. "Outward bound," she said, and laughter was gay in her voice. He said nothing, but stared ahead into the night. "You'd better sleep, Corun," she said. "You're tired now, and you'll need all your strength later." She laid a hand on his arm, and laughed aloud. "It will be an interesting voyage, to say the least." Rather! he thought with wry humor. It occurred to him that the trip might even have its pleasant aspects. "Goodnight, Corun," she said, and left him. Presently he went back to his room. Sleep was long in coming, and uneasy when it did arrive. III When he came out on deck in the early morning, there was only a gray emptiness of waters out to the gray horizon. They must have left the whole Achaeran archipelago well behind them and be somewhere in the Zurian Sea now. There was a smell of rain in the air, and the ship ran swiftly before a keening wind over long white-maned rollers. Corun let the tang of salt and moisture and kelp, the huge restless vista of bounding waves, the creak and thrum of the ship and the thundering surge of the ocean, swell luxuriously up within him, the simple animal joy of being at home. The sea was his home now, he realized vaguely; he had been on it so long that it was his natural environment--his, as much as that of the laridae wheeling on white wings in the cloud-flying heavens.