“He’s being modest as usual.” Tresilian glanced up from his vigil over Midnight. He speaks several languages, Captain Pendragon.”
“Please, call me Aurora. I hardly qualify for the title of captain since my vessel is back there.”
“By all the gods.” Voltaire rose to his feet. “Will you look at that?” He sat down with a thud, staring overhead and Aurora followed his gaze and gasped.
The rock surrounding them vanished, and they were now in a tunnel with transparent walls like glass, as the barge travelled along a narrow strait.
“Are we encased in glass?” Aurora asked, staring at the ocean all around them, and the multitude of colourful sea life that swam past as if this was an everyday occurrence.
“I don’t know.” Voltaire stared around with an expression of amazement, quickly replaced by curiosity. “If it is glass, it must be extraordinarily strong to withstand the pressures and yet we can see through clearly. Interesting.”