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"You didn't!" Derek was in shock. "You should never have done this!"

Dertu was smiling as he guided the boat towards the open sea. The waves seemed large enough to swamp the boat but they did not. The sea spray thickened on the glass.

"Dertu, are you mad?"

"Father, it was the perfect thing to do," said Dertu. "I didn't tell them we were at sea. I didn't tell them where we were going. They will trace the call to the landline on this island but only hours from now when it is no longer daylight here, and when we are far away."

The heavy cruiser picked up speed pushing against the huge waves. Sky and sea were steel gray.

"They'll come after us!" said Derek. "There are blood drinkers awake now somewhere in the world. Dertu, these creatures can fly."

"Well, they can't fly here now, can they?" said Dertu. "It will be daylight for eight more hours. And all those blood drinkers now know that the despised Rhoshamandes has kept secrets from the Prince and the Court. The Court will know in a matter of hours what Rhoshamandes has done."

This was true.

"But where are we going?" asked Derek. "Where can we hide?"

"Not a worry," said the boy. "We'll be with Kapetria sooner than you think. Go down, get something to eat for yourself. Light the fireplace in the salon. You're starved and unable to think."

In a daze Derek stumbled down the steps and moved through the salon to the galley. Out of the refrigerator he took a bottle of orange juice and, cringing at the cold against his gloved hand, he drank half of it. Heaven. Nectar of the gods. So delicious. There were other bottles of vitamin water, vegetable juice, and milk and more orange juice, and there were all those paper plates of food covered in plastic, the chicken, roast beef, ham.

He stood there shivering. Then he forced himself back up the steps into the cockpit and gave the bottle of orange juice to Dertu.

"If Kapetria is listening to that broadcast," said Dertu, "and they think that she is, we will connect with her this very night, in Derry in Northern Ireland. That is my plan."

"But how can that be?" asked Derek.

Dertu swallowed the remaining orange juice down. "I confess, Father," said the boy, "I consumed a good deal of food earlier, in the castle's kitchens. I was ravenous. I devoured food like a wild animal. You are the one who must eat now. I should have brought food to you. I am not a good son."

"Oh, nonsense," Derek whispered. "You were a newborn being. You must have been famished. I'm a dreadful father. And how can we connect with Kapetria tonight?"

"I left a further message on the phone line, Father. And pray that no one removes it or shuts off the line. I do not think that they will."

"Another message saying what?"

Dertu was obviously excited by what he'd done. He piloted the boat without looking at his father, but he couldn't keep from smiling.

"Speaking in the ancient tongue of Atalantaya," he said, "I told Kapetria to alphabetize the language according to English transliteration and litter the internet, if she had to, with websites or postings as to how we might find her. I told her to offer email addresses for us in the ancient tongue. And in the ancient tongue, I told her of our true destination. I told her the name of the land and the city. Oh, if only I'd used my time at the computer better. If only I'd thought of all this sooner. I could have given her the very name of a hotel. No matter. They'll never crack the ancient language, the blood drinkers, no matter how supernaturally clever they are. It is too foreign and they have no key."

Derek was astonished. "I would never have thought to do all this."

"Well, I didn't think fast enough to plan it out well myself," said Dertu.

"And what if Benji Mahmoud kills the broadcast, deletes the message, prevents it from being archived?"

"Father, the message must stay up only long enough for Kapetria and Garekyn to hear it, don't you see? And when we reach land, I'll search for Kapetria's messages. I have phones already with which to do that immediately."

"They want to kill us, the vampires," said Derek.

"Somewhere in the world Kapetria is listening to that message in the ancient tongue," said Dertu. "She will come to Derry to find us, if she possibly can. I remember her as vividly as you ever do, Father. Kapetria is wise. It was Kapetria who conceived of the new purpose. She will come. And the blood drinkers can't gather their resources fast enough to prevent it, because they don't have the information I gave Kapetria in the ancient tongue."

Derek was speechless. He stood there holding on to the empty orange juice bottle and then he licked the neck of it with his tongue. A wunderkind, this boy, he thought. No one could ever have kept him for ten years in a Budapest basement.

"Go on down," said Dertu. "Light the fire. Eat and sleep."

"And if you give one of your arms for an offspring, Dertu," Derek asked, "will that offspring be more clever than you are, as you are so much more clever than me?"

"I don't know, Father. But I bet we will soon be able to find out. In the meantime, please stop being afraid. Please trust in me."