"We should get as far into their territory as possible, even to the black palace," said Shorzon. "I will put a spell of invisibility on the ship." "Their sorcerers can break that," said Chryseis. "Aye, so. But when they come to know our powers, I think they will treat with us." "They'd better!" smiled Imazu grimly. "Steer on toward the island of the castle," said Shorzon to the pirate. "I go to lay the spell." He went into his cabin. Corun had a glimpse of its dark interior before the door was closed--draped in black and filled with the apparatus of magic. "He will have to be in a trance, physically, to maintain the enchantment," said Chryseis. She smiled at Corun, and his pulses raced. "Come, my dearest, it is cooler on the afterdeck." The sailors rowed steadily, sweat glistening on their bare blue hides. Imazu paced up and down the catwalk, flicking idlers with his whip. Corun stood where he could keep an eye on the steersman and see that the right course was followed. It had been utter wonder till now, he thought, unending days when they plowed through seas of magic, nights of joy such as he had never known. There had never been another woman such as Chryseis, he thought, never in all the world, and he was the luckiest of men. Though he died today, he had been more fortunate than any man ever dared dream. Chryseis, Chryseis, loveliest and wisest and most valiant of women--and she was his, before all the jealous gods, she loved him! "There has only been one thing wrong," he said. "You are going into danger now. The world would go dark if aught befell you." "And I should sit at home while you were away, and never know what had happened, never know if you lived or died--no, no, Corun!" He laid a hand on the sword at his waist. They had given him arms and armor again after she had come to him. Logical enough, he thought without resentment--he could be trusted now, as much as if he were one of Shorzon's ensorcelled warriors. But if this were a spell too, the gods deliver him from ever being freed of it! He blinked. There was a sudden breath of chill on him, and his eyes were blurring--no, no, it was the ship that wavered, ship and men fading--He clutched at Chryseis. She laughed softly and slipped an arm around his waist. "It is only Shorzon's spell," she said. "It affects us too, to some extent. And it makes the ship invisible to anyone within seeing range." Ghost ship, ghost crew, slipping over the slowly heaving waters. There was only the foggiest outline to be seen, shadow of mast and rigging against the sky, glimpses of water through the gray smoke of the hull, blobs of darkness that were the crewmen. Sound was still clear; he heard the mutter of superstitious awe, the crack of the whip, and Imazu's oaths that sent the oars creaking and splashing again. Corun's hand was a misty blur before his eyes. Chryseis was a shadow beside him.