The Final Sacrifice

Keslovi bent over and carefully added one final turret, to the sand castle, she and her younger brother Zykast were building. “Then” she said finishing the story she had been telling about another castle, far away from their small fishing village. “In one fluid motion, the prince rolled to his feet, grabbed his sword and stabbed the giant ugly ogre right in the heart, killing him instantly.
“Couldn’t have been uglier then you though.” Zykast, Keslovi’s twelve year old brother Interrupted.
Keslovi affected a hurt expression. “Well at least it didn’t have a have a beak in place of a nose.” Truthfully neither one of them was that ugly, though not pretty either; Keslovi had long strait brown hair, her face was plain, and her skin was a dark olive color. All these had been inherited from her father who had been a trader from a far away land.
Zykast looked at bit more like the native villagers; his hair, which he wore down to his shoulders, was black and slightly curled. His skin was naturally light, though it had been deeply tanned by the sun. His most noticeable feature though was the long hooked nose, which he had gotten from his father.
Zykast turned away looking out over the sea, also pretending to be upset; though they teased each other about their appearances quite often. He opened his mouth to reply to Keslovi’s remark. But before anything came out he spotted something out on the sea horizon. “Is that a ship?” He asked pointing out towards it.
Keslovi turned to him; his hand was upraised; pointing out into the distant blue of the sea. She shaded her eyes from the noon sun, and peered across the ocean. She was barely able to make out a small speck on the horizon.
The speck slowly grew larger, until it could at last be identified as a huge war ship. Even though she had lived by the sea all her life, Keslovi had never seen the Blood red flag flying from the ships mast.
“I don’t recognize it” Zykast said, continuing to stare out at the ship. “There aren’t any traders due are there?”
Keslovi shook her head. “The last trade ship of the season came a couple weeks ago. No sensible trader would sail during the fall anyway; too many storms.”
“We should tell everybody at the village, they’ll want to get ready for its landing.” Zykast said.
Keslovi nodded in agreement and they began to make their way quickly east, away from the sea. The land was not easy to cross quickly; rows of sand dunes stretched for about half a mile, before giving way to grassy farmlands. Near the middle of the small island was a forest of silver barked trees, which was the main source of the islands currency. The trees grew Forlons; a rare sweet, silver fruit; considered a delicacy in many lands.
The village was contained about fifty rickety wooden buildings; almost all of these were made up of ship planks and other flotsam which washed ashore over the years. Forlon trees were too valuable to cut down. And most of their wood was useless for building anyway.
As they arrived, Zykast ran happily into the village. “A ship is coming, a ship is coming.” He shouted. Zykast was always glad to be the bearer of news, good or bad; it made him the center of attention. The villagers gathered around Keslovi to hear the entire story; they knew from experience that it would take hours for Zykast to calm down enough to tell it.
Nearly all the adults were in the village; they had already traded for all supplies necessary to survive the winter; and now they had no work to do until the spring. After hearing Keslovi out, they moved away from her, to discuss the news.
Keslovi at only fourteen was considered to young to be involved in “adult” discussions. Nonetheless, by staying close and acting disinterested, she was able to make out the gist of the conversation.
No ship was scheduled to arrive until the spring. Their best guess was that the ship had somehow gotten lost and was stopping at the first inhabited land they saw; for provisions and directions. They couldn’t fathom how the ship had become lost, since all good sailors were able to read the stars.
None of the adults recognized the ship or the flag; and after watching it sail ever nearer for a few minutes, they walked back to the village. They were obviously worried about the ship and quite a few of them had picked up pitchforks, old rusty swords - many of which had washed ashore – and any other item that could be used as a weapon. Though the ship was large enough that if it carried a full load of warriors, there was no way they could win a fight. Even if they had all been experienced warriors.
Pirates were virtually unheard of in the area; forlorns being of such value that if their supply was interrupted, revenge would be swift in coming.
All the children, about twenty in all, including Keslovi and Zykast, - between ages two and sixteen – were escorted by the older men and women, into the forest, which covered most of the four mile long island.

The ship slowed, turning its side towards the village. Men began to pour out from below, onto the top deck; most of them went to the side and began to release the smaller vessels the boat carried on its side. Well the rest let down the anchor. It would be harder to stop a bunch of small boats from landing, then to stop one huge ship. At first it looked like only about ten ships would land, but more began to come around from the other side of the ship. Until, finally, they totaled about two-dozen, each containing five or six warriors. Even if they were not experienced warriors, as they obviously were, they still could have won a fight by shear numbers alone.
As the boats neared, the villagers lined the shore, hoping to sink at least a few boats before the rest landed. Seeing this tactic the boats stopped out of range of arrows, more through training then necessity, since only a couple villagers carried bows; and none of them had range enough to even cover half the distance of the boats. One of the middle boats slowly raised a white flag of truce, then began to row slowly up to shore.
As it landed, five warriors jumped from the boat, forming a half circle. A sixth warrior; the largest of them, who was almost covered with numerous tattoos, walked forward. He stepped confidently through the small ring around him. The other drew back slightly from him in fear and awe. He walked the short distance between, his party and the villagers.
The old blacksmith, Keroc, stepped forward to represent the villagers. He was the only villager to have ever been involved in battle, all be it years ago. “Who are you? And what do you want?” He Asked.
“Who I am does not matter. What does is that we have come to collect tribute that is due to us”. He replied the warrior in crude sailor’s tongue, while examining the various weapons the villagers had assorted. “Put down those weapons, we do not wish to kill you”. He added, though, the way the men behind him grinned when he said kill suggested otherwise.
“What tribute? We don’t owe you anything.” “Get off this island or we’ll show you how well we fight.” A few people in the small crowd shouted, ignoring the warrior’s threat.
“As rulers of the kingdom of Velsor, of which your island is a part.” The warrior’s voice rose to drown out the villagers shouts. “We are due ten percent of your forlon fruit production each year. This year we also require a young virgin woman, as a sacrifice to Tarkle, the god of war; in preparation for our battle with the Casclo’s.”
This pronouncement brought uproar from the crowd. Many surged forward ready to kill the leader where he stood and take their chances with the rest. Most of them were held back by others, but one, a young man named Lesol broke away and managed a wild stab with his pitchfork. The warrior smoothly side step, drew his sword and raised it to the young man’s throat in the same motion. The man fell back into the crowd, putting his hand to the small spot of blood where the sword had pricked him.

The other warriors drew their swords and moved forward to rejoin their leader. “Hold on, put those swords away, we do not wish to fight”. Keroc said to the warriors. Then he turned to the villagers. “Come back away from these men. We must discuss their demands”.
The villagers walked back, out of ear range of the warriors. Keroc stood before them “How should we answer them?” He asked. Those few young men, who had attempted to attack the warrior’s leader, shouted out saying that they must fight. But they were quickly quieted by the rest.
“It would seem that we have no choice but to obey their demands”. Said one old man, gravely. “As there is no way we can fight them off”?
Arguments began to break out in the crowd, the minority of young men still crying for battle. “Better to fight and die then to let people come and take their people and possessions.” They said. “Soon they’ll be demanding to or three of our young women and twenty percent of our crop per year.”
The shouting soon died down, it was agreed by most that they must obey. There was only one other question.
“Who shall be the sacrifice?”
Quiet reined over the crowd now, no one wanted to be the one who sent a young women to her death. Finally Selina, an old widow broke the silence. “I for one say Keslovi, she is not one of us, her father is from far over seas. And she is always talking about lands far from here, so let’s give her, her wish.”
This time the only one who disagreed was Keslovi’s mother. Keslovi had never been well liked by the villagers. She was always dreaming of going over to the see and leaving their little island. Her father had thought much the same as she, and ended up dead; drowned.

The small clearing in the forest had a couple dozen people scattered about it. Most of them sat nervously staring off towards the village, as if they could see through the mile of forest. A few of the older children and the elders tried to comfort the young kids who couldn’t understand what was going on.
Keslovi and Zykast stood off on their own quietly discussing what could be going on back at the village. Zykast was getting in to the details of how the boat had been filled with mad barbarians who were going to kill them all, when he was cut off by Keslovi.
“Listen.” She whispered to him. Soon he was able to make out small crunching sounds coming from the direction of the village and coming closer. Everyone in the clearing had stopped talking now; they all stared in the direction of the sounds.
Out of the forest came a small group of villagers, the blacksmith Keroc in the lead. They walked quickly over to Keslovi, ignoring everyone else. “Come with me.” Keroc said, grabbing hold of Keslovi’s arm.
Keslovi had no choice but follow him back out of the forest, wondering what was going on. “What’s happening? Where are we going? Why are you taking only me?” She asked, but Keroc was silent.

When Keroc took Keslovi back towards the village, Zykast slipped quietly into the forest and followed. He was curious and slightly worried about what they wanted Keslovi for. But mainly he was tired of waiting, and followed for lack of anything better to do.
Zykast stopped at the edge of the forest; he could not walk across the open plain around the village without being spotted. He stood behind a tree and watched as Keroc led Keslovi over to the group of villagers, then past them, to a large group of warriors standing near the beach.
One of the warriors took hold of Keslovi and put her bodily into a boat then rowed across to the large ship. The others spent a few minutes loading crates onto their boats then followed.
Zykast dashed out of the forest, he first looked about for his mother, but not seeing her he ran up to Keroc. “What are they doing with Keslovi? Why are they taking her?” He asked.
Keroc stared grimly at Zykast. “I don’t know that I’m the best one to tell you this. But your mother may never get over this enough to tell you the real story. The warriors demanded a tribute, in order for them to leave in peace. They required a large percentage of our forlons and a young woman as a sacrifice. Keslovi was given as the sacrifice.”
Zykast stared at Keroc in dismay. “But they can’t take Keslovi”. He said his eyes starting to tear up.
Keroc looked at Zykast gently. “There was no choice”. He said sadly. “If we could have prevented them we would have. But there were too many and we had no choice.”
“No, no they can’t”. Zykast cried.
Letting his feet carry him were they would. Zykast ran blindly into the forest, tears streaming down his face. Keslovi and Zykast had been close all through their lives. The other children - although rarely outright mean – had always looked down upon them because of their father. That had changed for Keslovi as she matured, but she had still spent most of her time with Zykast.
Zykast suddenly noticed that his feet had stopped moving, he was now standing in front of a small hut, deep in the forest. It took him a moment to realize that the hut belonged to Kiton; An old man who had lived deep in the forest for many years.
Zykast was walking away from the hut when he heard the door swing open. He swung around and saw Kiton standing in the doorway, his long gray filled with small twigs; indicating that he hadn’t washed for days, maybe weeks. He stood strait backed, a small grimace on his face indicating the pain it caused; he was to proud to ever admit that his backed ached so bad that when no one was around he walked bent nearly in half.
“I’m sorry I disturbed you”. Said Zykast turning to walk away, his eyes clear now; though longs wet streaks still glistened below them. “I didn’t realize where I was going”.
The old man stared at Zykast thoughtfully for long moments as he retreated down the path. Just when it seemed Kiton would let Zykast walk away, never saying a word. Finally Kiton spoke. “Wait a second young man”. He shouted, then seeing Zykast turn and look back at him, he continued. “Come inside and have a drink. I heard about your sister and have something that might cheer you up.”
Zykast stood indecisively for a moment, then seeming to make up his mind he walked back to the old man. Then followed him into the hut; though small the hut did not feel cramped inside. Every space was used with the utmost precision. A small table sat in the center of the room. Along three of the walls were various shelves and cabinets. The forth wall contained an inset fireplace - a fire burning in it, despite the heat - with a pot of water boiling over it. Next to it lay Kiton’s bed, the area around it cleared so that it could be nearer or farther from the fire.
Zykast sat cross-legged on the ground next to the table; chairs were hard to build out of flotsam, plus the lack of chairs saved room. Kiton bustled around for a few moments then came to the table, two cups of tea in hand. Handing one cup to Zykast, Kiton sat down opposite Zykast at the table. “I know you are very close to your sister. I’ve got something that can help you get her back but only if your willing to risk your life to save her.”
Zykast sat silently for a minute, he had never really considered death; it seemed to him that it only happened to old people, or to children so young that know one really knew them yet. His knew his dad had died, but that was before Zykast was old enough to remember much of anything. On the other hand, his sister was his best friend, and since none of the other kids liked him, it seemed it wouldn’t be worth staying on the island without her.
“Ok, I’ll try to save her; whatever it takes.”
Kiton stared thoughtfully at Zykast, as if measuring his determination. Then standing up, Kiton went over to a cabinet set against the corner of the wall, farthest from the door. Carefully covering his motions, from Zykast, with his body; Kiton reached deep into one of the small drawer and pulled out a small glass bottle; filled with a light purple liquid. He stood for a moment thinking, then reaching in again, he pulled out a glass jar. Zykast craned his next to get a better look at it, but couldn’t see anything inside.
Walking to the table, Kiton sat down, then gently set the two glass vessels on the table.
“What are those?” Asked Zykast; standing up so he could see the jars better.
Kiton sat back down slowly, then reached up and pick up the large jar. “This will help you save you sister, if you use it right.”
Zykast stared curiously at it for a minute, then finally looked at Kiton. “But there’s nothing but air in it… is there?” He asked.
Kiton smiled grimly, and slowly turned the jar over. Zykast saw something small and brown slid across the glass inside of the jar. “That, is a Caylin spider.” Kiton said. Seeing Zykast face register incomprehension; he continued. “Inside this jar is a disease that is so deadly that almost no one who catches it survives. There are only two ways I know to survive it. One is drinking this potion.” He held up the other glass bottle. “The other is the venom of the Caylin spider, which neutralizes the disease.”
“But the spider is dead.” Zykast said looking intently at the small spider, which lay upside down legs curled up; rocking gently back and forth, with the motion of the jar.
Kiton shook his head slightly. “No, it’s not dead. The venom in its body reacts with the disease and puts it into this state. It is in similar to being paralyzed, except it doesn’t need to breathe.”
Kiton stood up and handed the jars to Zykast, then walked with him to the door. “Remember to release the disease when the ship far out in the ocean, so it doesn’t spread. Go now while it is dark. And be careful with the spider, the venom can kill you as well if you get too much in you.” Then Zykast walked back down the path, with a purposeful stride; he had a plan now.

Most of the village’s small boats were securely tied to the dock, southwest of the village. Zykast made his way to them, slipping silently through the village, pausing only once - by the door of his house; hearing the sound of his mother crying inside – then quickly continuing on his way. He stopped once more at the opposite edge of the village to grab a paddle from a small storage shed. Pulling out a small knife, he always carried with him. Zykast cut the lines on a small canoe, and hopped in.
Luckily for Zykast, it was a clear night. Single handedly, controlling the canoe would be a difficult enough task itself. As he neared the large boat, Zykast let out a shout, upon seeing the one sentry on deck turn he waved until he was sure he had been spotted. Taking up the oars again he rowed slowly to the ship and pulled alongside. “What do you want?” Then sentry had watched the small boat pull up and was now standing above Zykast, staring down at him.
Zykast, doing his best to sound like a poor naïve kid, said. “Sir, I would like to join your boats crew.” He waited a few seconds for the sentry, who continued to stare at him menacingly to reply, then went on. “My father was a sailor like you; because he was an outsider to the community none of the villagers are nice to me. He died in out sailing, but I would like to take up his old profession, especially if it means I can get off this island.”
The sentry gave him one final piercing glance then replied. “I will ask the captain in the morning. If I see you on board before then…you die.” Slowly unsheathing his sword and taking a few practice swings for good measure.
The sentry proceeded to walk away, leaving Zykast with nothing to do but sit out the night and hope the sentry kept his word.
The following morning Zykast awoke to see a couple of sailors looking down at him from the ship. He had slept on and off through the night and was unsure of how long they had been standing there.
“So you’re awake.” Said one of the sailors, he looked to be a veteran warrior. All Zykast could see of him was his face; which contained numerous scars.
Zykast did not know how to reply to this question, since the fact that he was looking up at them was answer enough, so he remained silent; only bothering with a slight nod of his head.
The warrior went on after a few seconds, perhaps seeing that Zykast didn’t know how to reply. “One of the sentries told me you would like to join the ship.” And seeing Zykast nod in confirmation again, continued; half to Zykast and half to himself. “Why should I let you on to my ship though?”
Though he had not known all the questions he would have to answer, Zykast had expected this one and was prepared. “Captain.” Said Zykast, hoping he had correctly inferred the man’s position, based on his referring to the ship as his own. “I know a lot about sailing, my father taught so I know more then any of the other kids at the village.” Then unsure if this would be enough he added. “And I can fish, and cook and I know a lot about trading since merchants come to our village a lot.”
The captain was looking down at him thoughtfully, or at least so Zykast hoped that’s what his expression was. He’d thought during his speech he’d seen the captain smile; at least it a slight rising of the lips, which on this man who with all his scars, didn’t seem to smile much, could be a smile.
“Ok boy, you can come aboard, but you better work hard and obey orders. Or we’ll throw you overboard to the sharks.” The captain said.

Zykast worked diligently for the next two days, careful not to draw attention to himself, or the pack in which he carried the disease. In was near the end of the second, when he judged the ship to be far enough out to sea that it would be safe to unleash the disease. However, he had yet to discover where Keslovi was being held, and until he did so he could not release the disease, for fear of killing her as well as the sailors.
Originally Zykast had planned to continue working until he could discover Keslovi’s location. But this plan was put into question when he overheard a conversation between the head cook – who Zykast had done many dirty jobs for – and one of the sailors.
“Captain says it should only be four or five more days till we land, and I can stop eating your slop.” Said the sailors to the cook.
“Ah, you don’t like my slop Leirk? Well if that’s the case you can have nothing at all. Or maybe I can give you some of what their feeding the girl down below.” The cook said.
Leirk replied “I’ve had to feed the girl that…stuff. Rotten fish and other garbage stinks to the heavens, I’d rather go hungry then eat that. But she’s only got a few days to live, so what’s the point of wasting food on her, eh?”
Zykast listened intently to the remainder of the conversation, however there was no further mention of Keslovi’s locating. Finally Leirk, the sailor finished eating and left.

Zykast got back to work contemplating what action, if any, he should take. With perhaps only four days till landfall, tomorrow or even that night would be the ideal time to act. Since the ship would continue to make progress, even as the disease took its toll. If they got too close to land, the ship might drift ashore and the disease would kill people more then just the sailors. Zykast finally came to the conclusion that he must act now, rather then wait another day in the hopes that he could learn where Keslovi was held captive.
That night, after waiting for a few hours to make sure all the sailors - who also slept in the room with him - were asleep. Zykast quietly slipped out of the hammock which he slept in, grabbed his pack, the jar containing the disease and spider, and the antidote. He also pulled out a knife which he had pilfered from the kitchen after overhearing the cook’s conversation. Then he did something that he hoped he would not come to regret.
Holding his breathe, Zykast twisted the cap off the jar holding the disease and allowed it to waft out. About fifteen seconds after taking it off, Zykast replaced the lid and ran out the hatch that led above deck.
Glancing around the deck, Zykast spotted the sentry, who stood across the ship looking away from Zykast; staring out towards the sea. The other hatch which led below deck laid midway between Zykast and the sentry. There was nothing that Zykast could use as cover between him and the hatch. Hoping the sentry wouldn’t turn, Zykast dashed for the other hatch, grabbed it and pulled it open.
Jumping through and pulling the hatch closed behind him, Zykast looked around. He knew that Keslovi must be held somewhere down here. With virtually no light, Zykast walked slowly and cautiously strait forward, arms outstretched in front of him. After only two steps Zykast’s foot hit a small box, making a small banging sound, which he hoped would be masked by the normal sounds of the water bumping up against the ship. Grouping around he felt several other bags and crates around him, and deduced that he was probably in a storage room.
Five minutes later, Zykast had made very little progress. The storage room was packed with supplies and he couldn’t manage to go more then a step or two without bumping into another object. Finally, unsure of how long the disease would take to have an effect and worried that some of the sailors might wake from it and notice his absence, Zykast whisper softly out to the blackness. “Keslovi, Keslovi are you down here?”
There was no reply, and so Zykast – who was now convinced that if there was anyone else down here, they would have heard him by now anyway – raised his voice a little. “Keslovi?”
There was still no reply, Zykast continued forward waiting in as strait of line as possible, hoping he would eventually run into the opposite wall. Five or so minutes later he finally felt his outstretched fingers hit the wall. Pausing for a second to rest, he called out again, his voice now slightly louder then normal talking. “Keslovi, are you in here? Keslovi?” And this time there was a muted reply coming from his left.
Zykast headed towards the noise, Fingers tracing along the wall. It wasn’t far before he felt a crack in the wall, and after groping around for a second found a handle. The handle turned but the door did not open. The door must be locked he thought, his only hope was that the sailors did not use good locks. And why would they? He thought it’s not like a prisoner had anywhere to run even if they did get out.
Moving closer in order to better examine the door with his fingers, Zykast stepped onto a bag of rice and tripped, falling forward against the door. After regaining his balance, Zykast knelt and ran his hands along the ground. There were ten or fifteen bags stacked against the door, preventing it from opening. Heart starting to beat faster, sensing how near to rescuing Keslovi he was, Zykast set the jars and knife down gently on a bag of rice behind him. Then he grabbed one of the bags in front of the door and pulled it aside. Repeating this he had the doorway cleared in a few minutes.
His hands shaking in excitement, it took him a minute to find and get a grasp on the doors handle. The handle twisted easily beneath his hand and the door swung outwards.
Unable to see anything Zykast reached out, whispering. “Keslovi are you there.”
Keslovi’s voice came out of the darkness, making Zykast’s heart jump in joy. “Zykast is it really you? How did you get here?”
“Yes it’s me Keslovi; we have to get out of here though. I’ll answer your questions one were gone. Can you walk?” Zykast said all this in a rush; time seemed to have sped up now that he had found Keslovi. He realized how long he’d spent down below and was worried that the sailors might be looking for him.
“Yes I can walk, where are we going? How can we get away?” Asked Keslovi.
“Just follow me.” Said Zykast, picking up the two jars and the knife he led the way back across the room. They made relatively fast time, due in part to Zykast growing urgency and in part to his eyes having grown better accustomed to the darkness.
When they reached the hatch Zykast handed Keslovi the antidote. “Drink this, I’ll explain what it’s for later, but it’s important that you drink it now.”
Keslovi instinctively trusting her brother drank the antidote and set the jar on the floor. “Ok drank it, can we go?”
“Ok, just stay quiet and follow me”. Zykast said, pushing the hatch open he looked around carefully; the guard had changed position but was still looking out towards the sea. Stepping out he quickly led the way to the side of the ship. Zykast looked over the side confirming that the canoes were lashed below. Then holding tightly onto the jar and knife he jumped overboard, landing with a splash in the water.
The water seeped quickly through his clothes and into his skin, the freezing cold of it nearly stunning him. The canoes were tightly tied with rope to the side of the ship, about five feet above the water line. They were generally filled with supplies for a few days and equipment to catch fish; in case the ship sank. There was also a ladder leading up to the canoes so that sailors who jumped out could still get to them
Zykast heard Keslovi splash into the water behind him, and forced himself into action. Handing the jar to Keslovi he stroked over to the side of the ship. He climbed the ladder that led up to the canoes, and then leaning over, pulled himself into the nearest canoe.
The canoe was bound tightly to the side of the ship with rope; it barely moved as he pulled himself in. The waves rocked the canoe and not wanting to risk a fall, Zykast crawled carefully to its far side. Using the knife he sawed at the rope binding the canoe to the ship. After a minute it frayed, and finally fell away; the canoe tipped down and Zykast was thrown back into the water. The knife slipped from his grasp in the fall but he grabbed it before it sunk beneath the waves.
Zykast climb the ladder once again. Wrapping his left hand around a rung Zykast took the knife in his right hand and sawed awkwardly at the near rope. It took longer the time, and Zykast nearly slipped from the ladder once, but finally the rope came free. The canoe fell to the sea; but was buoyant enough to stay above water.
Zykast climbed off the ladder; as Keslovi pulled herself into the canoe. Reaching over the side she helped Zykast in well maintaining the canoes balance. The inside of the canoe was covered with a water-proof canvas; tied firmly down by rope.
Cutting the rope and pulling up the canvas Zykast found supplies a few days supplies of food and whiskey as well as fishing pole and hook, and oars he had expected to find. As well as a small bucket, for dumping out any water which may have accumulated in the canoes.
Keslovi picked up one of the oars and began to row, but Zykast stopped her. He had taken up the jar; containing the disease and spider, which she had set in the bottom of the canoe. Taking a deep breathe and holding it; Zykast unscrewed the cap dumped the spider into the bucket for bailing water, and threw the jar the twenty or so feet up towards the ship. He watched the jars flight as it rose above the side of the ship then dipped slowly back down, hearing a satisfying break of glass as it crashed to the deck.
The next few hours passed in blur, both Keslovi and Zykast had been taught to navigate by the stars. And Keslovi had a good knowledge of geography, calculating where the were based on Zykast memory of the trip, she turned the canoe east believing that they were no more then three or four days from shore.
After about five hours of sailing, Zykast began to show signs of sickness; seemingly unable to stop coughing. With no other choice he reached into the bucket and grabbed the spider out then set it on his arm. It sat there doing nothing for almost a minute; Zykast shook his arm lightly back and forth and it finally bit. The pain was excruciating and he imaged he could feel the poison quickly spreading in his body, to go all through his body. He swept the spider off his arm into the ocean and lay down; the pain leaving him unable to sit.
The next few days went by quickly for Zykast, but seemed to take forever to Keslovi. She spent a couple hours rowing, then when her arms grew tired she managed to create a makeshift sail out of the oars, canvas and rope. The wind favored them blowing them swiftly east for the next few days. Keslovi spent the remainder of the time fishing, but catching very little, and watching her brother suffer; unable to do anything to help him.
In the middle of the forth day Zykast’s body finally managed to fight off the poison and he was finally able to sit up again. A few hours later Keslovi spotted land and taking apart the sail used the oars to row towards it. There were no signs of habitation and so she rowed them slowly down the coastline, looking for houses. When they finally spotted a house it was just a few hours before dark, and she landed nearby.
Worried about spreading the disease both Keslovi and Zykast stripped off their clothes - which were covered with grime anyway - and laid them in the canoe. Then using the knife Keslovi punched a hole in the bottom of the canoe; and pushed it out to sea. They washed themselves off in the water for about five minutes; watching the canoe slowly drift away and finally sink beneath the waves. Then they walked towards the house; hoping to receive a warm welcome, ready to begin their new lives on a new land.