Meecham came up on one elbow and looked at his master. Gardan did likewise. Kulgan said, ‘It will blow three days longer. We will put in to the lee of an island and hold there until it slackens.’ ‘What island?’ asked Pug. ‘Sorcerer’s Isle.’ Meecham shot up out of his bunk, hitting his head on the low ceiling. Cursing and rubbing his head, while Gardan stifled a laugh, he exclaimed, ‘The island of Macros the Black?’