At Uthar’s orders, Roran and the other villagers worked to tidy up the ship after the storm and prepare for the ordeal that was to come. Their work ended at nightfall, when they extinguished every light on board in an attempt to confuse their pursuers as to theDragon Wing ’s heading. The ruse succeeded in part, for when the sun rose, Roran saw that the sloops had fallen back to the northwest another mile or so, though they soon made up the lost distance.

Late that morning, Roran climbed the mainmast and pulled himself up into the crow’s nest a hundred and thirty feet above the deck, so high that the men below appeared no larger than his little finger. The water and sky seemed to rock perilously about him as theDragon Wing heeled from side to side.

Taking out the spyglass he had brought with him, Roran put it to his eye and adjusted it until the sloops came into focus not four miles astern and approaching faster than he would have liked.They must have realized what we intend to do, he thought. Sweeping the glass around, he searched the ocean for any sign of the Boar’s Eye. He stopped as he descried a great disk of foam the size of an island, gyrating from north to east.We’re late, he thought, a pit in his stomach. High tide had already passed and the Boar’s Eye was gathering in speed and strength as the ocean withdrew from land. Roran trained the glass over the edge of the crow’s nest and saw that the knotted rope Uthar had tied to the starboard side of the stern—to detect when they entered the pull of the whirlpool—now floated alongside theDragon Wing instead of trailing behind as was usual. The one thing in their favor was that they were sailing with the Eye’s current and not against it. If it had been the other way around, they would have had no choice but to wait until the tide turned.

Below, Roran heard Uthar shout for the villagers to man the oars. A moment later, theDragon Wing sprouted two rows of poles along each side, making the ship look like nothing more than a giant water strider. At the beat of an ox-hide drum, accompanied by Bonden’s rhythmic chant as he set the tempo, the oars arched forward, dipped into the sea of green, and swept back across the surface of the water, leaving white streaks of bubbles in their wake. TheDragon Wing accelerated quickly, now moving faster than the sloops, which were still outside the Eye’s influence.

Roran watched with horrified fascination the play that unfolded around him. The essential plot element, the crux upon which the outcome depended, was time. Though they were late, was theDragon Wing, with its oars and sails combined, fast enough to traverse the Eye? And could the sloops—which had deployed their own oars now—narrow the gap between them and theDragon Wing enough to ensure their own survival? He could not tell. The pounding drum measured out the minutes; Roran was acutely aware of each moment as it trickled by.

He was surprised when an arm reached over the edge of the basket and Baldor’s face appeared, looking up at him. “Give me a hand, won’t you? I feel like I’m about to fall.”

Bracing himself, Roran helped Baldor into the basket. Baldor handed Roran a biscuit and a dried apple and said, “Thought you might like some lunch.” With a nod of thanks, Roran tore into the biscuit and resumed gazing through the spyglass. When Baldor asked, “Can you see the Eye?” Roran passed him the glass and concentrated on eating.

Over the next half hour, the foam disk increased the speed of its revolutions until it spun like a top. The water around the foam bulged and began to rise, while the foam itself sank from view into the bottom of a gigantic pit that continued to deepen and enlarge. The air over the vortex filled with a cyclone of twisting mist, and from the ebony throat of the abyss came a tortured howl like the cries of an injured wolf.

The speed with which the Boar’s Eye formed amazed Roran. “You’d better go tell Uthar,” he said.

Baldor climbed out of the nest. “Tie yourself to the mast or you may get thrown off.”

“I will.”

Roran left his arms free when he secured himself, making sure that, if needed, he could reach his belt knife to cut himself free. Anxiety filled him as he surveyed the situation. TheDragon Wing was but a mile past the median of the Eye, the sloops were but two miles behind her, and the Eye itself was quickly building toward its full fury. Worse, disrupted by the whirlpool, the wind sputtered and gasped, blowing first from one direction and then the other. The sails billowed for a moment, then fell slack, then filled again as the confused wind swirled about the ship.

Perhaps Uthar was right,thought Roran.Perhaps I’ve gone too far and pitted myself against an opponent that cannot be overcome by sheer determination. Perhaps I am sending the villagers to their deaths. The forces of nature were immune to intimidation.

The gaping center of the Boar’s Eye was now almost nine and a half miles in circumference, and how many fathoms deep no one could say, except for those who had been trapped within it. The sides of the Eye slanted inward at a forty-five-degree angle; they were striated with shallow grooves, like wet clay being molded on a potter’s wheel. The bass howl grew louder, until it seemed to Roran that the entire world must crumble to pieces from the intensity of the vibrations. A glorious rainbow emerged from the mist over the whirling chasm.

The current moved faster than ever, driving theDragon Wing at a breakneck pace as it whipped around the rim of the whirlpool and making it more and more unlikely that the ship could break free at the Eye’s southern edge. So prodigious was her velocity, theDragon Wing tilted far to the starboard, suspending Roran out over the rushing water.

Despite theDragon Wing ’s progress, the sloops continued to gain on her. The enemy ships sailed abreast less than a mile away, their oars moving in perfect accord, two fins of water flying from each prow as they plowed the ocean. Roran could not help but admire the sight.