The cloudless sky had shifted over the course of a few hours from bright blue to shades of orange and deep purple. Off to steerboard, the sun slid towards the horizon. The breeze held steady thanks to Caleb’s spell Wind Cast.

The island’s peak loomed directly ahead. It rose like a gray fang from a mass of dense green subtropical forest. A semicircular beach of white sand beckoned from the closest part of the shore.

But a seafloor that could tear out the ship’s hull lay between them and that beach.

“Whitecaps, Captain!” came the cry from above.

Caleb looked up from where he stood next to Donal at the helm. The two lookouts, Aiden and Ethan, were aloft in their assigned posts on the fighting top. He cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted back up to them.

“Remember, we need direction when you report! Otherwise it’s of little use!”

The two boys actually blushed as they listened. Aiden glanced ahead once more before calling down again.

“Yezzir, Captain! Whitecaps spotted on the larboard quarter!”

“That’ll be the breakers on the outer rocks,” Donal muttered. “A point steerboard, Captain?”

“Make it two points,” Caleb replied. He leaned on the rail and called down to Tavia and Shaw. “Each of you, pick a side of the deck. Let me know if we get closer than twenty yards to any breakers.”

Tavia nodded with a bob of her horn and went over to the larboard side. Shaw did the same on the steerboard one. Sienna came up to the quarterdeck as the two took station.

“What can I do, Captain?”

“Get together a group to stand by amidships,” Caleb said. “Give each person a pole, an oar, or a length of timber. Scraping some rocks will be bad enough. But if we’re hung up, the waves will break us to pieces unless you can push us off.”

She swallowed hard, absorbing the information, and headed belowdecks.

Caleb turned his attention outwards, allowing both his Dead Reckoning and Depth Sense to take over. The glare of the sun shrank, and the water below seemed to melt away before his eyes. The form of the island jutted up from the seafloor like a stark white column.

Surrounding the column just below sea level was a collar of cracked and tumbled rock. They shimmered as he looked, hinting at the power of the waves as they crashed upon the stone. He looked closer and saw a handful of channels gouged by those waves that fed into the calm harbor.

He picked the closest one, which was among the widest. It looked like there was enough clearance, so long as he could thread the sloop’s all-too-fragile wooden hull through the eye marked by the seething whitecaps.

“One more point steerboard,” Caleb ordered. The wheel creaked slightly as Donal made the adjustment. Down on the main deck, Sienna and a group of a dozen of the stoutest men and women gathered around the mainmast with their makeshift tools, ready to shove the Spitfire off anything she got caught on.

The sound of the breakers started to rise. The sloop began to pitch more violently, her bow jolting up and down with the reflected wave action. Caleb’s nose twitched as the background smell of the briny sea grew more intense.

“Whitecaps off both quarters now, Captain!” came the call from above.

“Looks like we’re past the point of no return now,” Caleb stated flatly, as the breakers started to boom like thunder up ahead.

“Prayer’s up, there’s no going back now,” Donal agreed.

In Caleb’s vision, the channel ahead narrowed, and the bottom came up sharply, like a reef head of sharp coral. The relatively shallow-bottomed sloop would make it – just barely. Anything heavier would scrape or break their keels.

“Breakers at twenty yards!” Tavia called, from over on the larboard side.

“Another point to steerboard,” Caleb ordered Donal. He got a quiet Aye as the wheel turned.

The unicorn’s voice sounded again. “Fifteen yards! The gap’s closing fast!”

“Two more points to steerboard,” Caleb ordered. “Make it smart!”

“Captain, the wind’s shifting!” Donal said, nodding towards the sail. The canvas had stopped bellying out, and instead rattled listlessly. “Shall I turn back to compensate?”

“Keep us on course, or we’re on the rocks for sure!”

Caleb cursed to himself. He’d been watching the depth so carefully that he’d ignored the wind in his sails. Quickly, he called up his Wind Shift spell to nudge the breeze around.

The sloop stopped its forward motion and began to move, crablike, towards the rocks. Spray from the breakers spattered along the sides of the ship. Shaw lifted his head, inhaling the charged air and looking as if he were enjoying the ride.

“Ten yards!” Tavia exclaimed. “I believe that we’re going to hit!”

Sienna motioned to her people. “Come on, let’s move!”

Her group made their way over towards Tavia, tools in hand.

“More to steerboard, Captain?” Donal asked.

Caleb shook his head. “No, more of that and we’ll go broadside to the channel. We get stuck that way, and it’s all over! Hold her steady!”

He held out one hand and invoked Wind Cast along with Wind Shift. The sails bellied out once more. The breakers boomed with an unrelenting thunder now.

The Spitfire shifted with a creak of her timbers, slowing the sideways motion.

“Five yards!” The mare danced back a couple of steps from the side. “Everyone, brace!”

A groaning, teeth-clenching CREEAAAAK! ran down the ship’s length from midsection to stern. Sienna’s team almost lost their footing as the sloop’s timbers shuddered beneath them. They reached the larboard side, tools in hand, just as the sound stopped.

The Spitfire lunged ahead once more. A pair of breakers spat salty foam across the deck. The bow rose, plunged with a splash of spray, and rose once more. Caleb grabbed the quarterdeck’s rail. Even Donal had to brace himself as the ship took a battering from the waves.

And then they were through.

Around the hull, the waters smoothed out until they were a glassy green. The wind, still uncertain under Caleb’s spellcraft, fell away to a whisper. The thunder from the whitecaps receded to a dull doom, doom.

Ahead, the wide sandy beach glimmered orange-gold in the setting sun. Scrub-tangled forest sloped up from the sand toward the rocky peak. The rain-on-leaves scent of the greenery smelled intoxicating and welcome to Caleb after nothing but ocean smells for the last few days.

“‘Twas the most invigorating journey through those whitecaps!” Shaw enthused. “Doth anyone here feel up to a repeat trip through that passage?”

Sienna and the people in her group gave the griffin looks of disbelief. Tavia stamped a hoof on the deck with a clack.

“By Kirren,” she replied archly, “I think once was enough, thank you!”

“Aye,” Sienna agreed. “As Lir and Danu are my witnesses, we’re of one mind with that, Miss Morningstar.”

The griffin appeared a little crestfallen at the response.

“Shaw,” Caleb called down, “If you’re looking for some more excitement, think you can spot any game on that island before the light fails? I don’t want to send an away party into those woods until the morning.”

“‘Tis an easy task for one such as I,” he said. “I shall return anon.”

Shaw spread his wings and arrowed off towards the beach. He skimmed low over the trees before disappearing around the curve of the island to the right.

Donal kept one hand on the wheel as he scratched his chin in thought.

“Wantin’ to go back through that white water again? Praise be, Captain, do you figure there’s something the matter with Shaw?”

“No, there’s nothing wrong,” Caleb replied. “It’s called being a griffin.”

“Aye, there is that.”

A bit more maneuvering brought the Spitfire into the calmest part of the harbor, close to the shore and in the lee of the island’s large peak. They dropped anchor in five fathoms of crystal clear blue water, causing two more screens to pop up in Caleb’s Quest Window.

Bonus Level Mini-Quest Utilize two or more of your Corsair skills at the same time. XP Value of the next quest completed shall be increased by 15%. STATUS: COMPLETE. Adventurer's-Level Quest Utilize at least one Corsair skill and one Magic Spell in order to bring your vessel safely to a new, previously unknown destination. STATUS: COMPLETE.

An eagle’s cry announced Shaw’s return a few minutes later. The drake had stumbled across a drove of wild pigs. He’d gone into battle with a will and returned with a very large, very dead wild boar tucked under each massively furry forearm. A cheer went up from the crew at the sight.

Evie O’Breen came out from her post in the mess hall. She took one look at Shaw’s haul and then went up to Caleb. Her wizened face looked excited as she pointed towards the beach.

“Captain, that’s enough pork for the entire crew,” she said, “so long as I can use the longboat and enlist a few strong backs to build a fire pit on that beach.”

“Permission granted,” Caleb said. “Proceed with all due speed!”

Evie didn’t lack for volunteers. Shaw and Tavia scouted the tree line near the beach, pronouncing everything safe of anything that would be bold enough to attack a large group of people. While one team built the pit, lining the edges with whatever stone was to hand, another gathered up driftwood or felled nearby trees. Soon, a massive fire was crackling away in the last rays of twilight.

Once the carcasses had been spiced and made ready, metal spits and makeshift holders were used to suspend the pigs over the flames. Another part of the pit was used to grill what vegetables they had, along with a healthy cauldron’s worth of starchy zampa. One of the trips back and forth from the ship ensured that everyone had access to barrels of lime juice and rum captured off the Myrkur’s ketch.

The smell of roasting pork joined the scents of wood smoke and the syrupy smell of rum in open cups. Caleb’s crew gathered around the fire, sitting cross-legged and passing drinks around as the stars came out.

Shaw curled a leonine paw around a large mug someone had set aside for him and tossed back a portion, savoring the liquor’s taste. He offered his second helping to Tavia, who sniffed and shook her head.

“Not to your taste?” Caleb inquired, after finishing his own portion.

“I’m afraid that we unicorns just don’t have the stomach for liquor,” she replied. “I’ve tried human brews like beer, wine, and even mead. They all upset my stomach.”

“‘Tis a sad fate to be a unicorn, then,” Shaw sympathized. “Fear not! I shall come to thine aid and drink thy portion.”

Tavia shot Shaw a dagger of a look before letting out a laugh.

“Drink heartily for me,” she said. “Just don’t try flying afterwards. You might crash into the peak up there and knock it askew.”

Shaw roared with laughter and brought the mug back to his beak at that.

Caleb guided the mare away from the partiers for a moment. “Actually, I appreciate you keeping your head about you. A couple of us still need to be ready trouble at any time, so that the others can relax.”

“You think so?” Tavia canted her head and gave him a questioning look. “In truth, I’m surprised you allowed everyone to come ashore.”

“Sometimes, the need to keep everyone’s morale up is paramount. Between the mass kidnapping, imprisonment, and soul draining, the Arrenmar have been dealing with the worst life could deal them. They’ve been under stress for a while now, sailing and fighting to keep out of the Myrkur’s clutches. A night of relaxation is a risk worth running. At least for now.”

They turned as they heard the Arrenmar raise their voices in song. Caleb remained quiet, thinking of Sienna’s words when he’d asked if he needed to perform the rites for the fallen crewmembers: Na’ae, that’s not our way. We’ll sing of them in time. Their tune was slow and full of lament, and Tavia’s ears flicked as it rose and fell.

Away our ship, away from hurt, to death’s land we be bound,

And the quay’s laid out with sailing grass and bonny roses ‘round.

The captain gives the order, we shall sail the oceans wide,

Where the sun it never sets, it never clouds, no darkness dims the sky.

So cheer up my lads, take up your cups, your hearts shall never mind,

Don’t you weep now, my bonny lass, though you be left far behind.

A moment of silence hung over the beach as they finished. Only the dull murmur of the waves and the crackle of the fire filled the air. A final toast was drunk, and the festive, good-natured party began again.

The three moons finally appeared over the horizon as the pigs cooked over the fire. The waters turned a surreal mixture of luminescent white, pink, and blue by the time serving began. Caleb ended up eating two portions of roasted meat and a crunchy side of the pork rind that Evie called scratchings.

While the Arrenmar had fought like lions, their tolerance for alcohol had dropped along with their body weight during their imprisonment. After a while, several simply laid back in the warm sand and fell asleep. Others continued to carouse as the night went on, until they could barely stand. Caleb jumped to his feet as he heard a crash on the far side of the fire.

He ran over to find one of Sienna’s riflemen passed out, having fallen across the rum barrel. The side of the container had fractured, spilling what little was left. The Arrenmar who were still conscious found this hilarious.

“Myr and damnation!” Sienna fumed, as she stumbled onto the scene. Her voice sounded ever so slightly slurred. “Rory, I thought you were the hardest drinker among the Murray brothers. Now look at you! Na’ae, wait until your mum hears about this!”

“It’s okay,” Caleb moved to steady her. “The barrel was almost empty anyway. Not much harm done.”

“Not much harm?” Sienna gestured to the man. “What’ll we do with a drunken sailor?”

Suggestions rang out from the more-than-half drunk crowd.

“Shave his belly with a rusty razor!”

“Stick ‘im in a scupper with a hosepipe bottom!”

“Come on,” Caleb said to Sienna. “We’ll put him in the longboat till he’s sober.”

“We’ll what?” she blinked.

“Help me put him in the longboat. Let everyone here sleep, but I want to get back to the ship.”

Blearily, Sienna helped Caleb drag the unconscious Rory over to the longboat. Then she climbed in as Caleb shoved the boat out into the water. Tavia trotted over, her eyes full of concern.

“Do you need my assistance, Captain?”

“I do, but not with this,” he replied. “I’m not sure how sober Shaw’s remained, so can you keep an eye on my crew until sunrise?”

She bobbed her horn. “Of course. I won’t let anything nibble on them.”

With that, Caleb hopped into the longboat. He grabbed a set of oars and rowed them over to the Spitfire in good order.

Luckily, Rory was a light burden, and one that remained sound asleep as Caleb carried him aboard the sloop. He laid the young man down next to the railing just as Sienna made it on deck. She reeled drunkenly, forcing him to turn and catch her.

The triple moonlight sparkled in her eyes as she gazed up at him.

“You saved me, Captain,” she said, her voice thick with booze and husky with need. “Again. You’re the one who’s been there for me, Lir be praised.”

His mind went back to how he’d emerged from his cabin to find Sienna affectionately ruffling Donal’s hair. They’d made a nice couple. He didn’t like the idea of disrupting that, especially on a small sailing ship.

“Come on, we need to get you in bed,” he said, as he helped steer her aft along the deck.

Caleb felt a warm wetness on the side of his neck. He abruptly realized that came from Sienna’s lips pressing again him, her tongue tasting him. She all but burrowed into his side, adding his warmth and weight to his. It took his breath away, made a not-insignificant part of him stand firmly at attention.

Memories flashed through his mind. He’d been in this situation before, and he’d acted on his worst instincts without thinking twice. Slaking his animal nature when there was an excuse, any excuse.

Oh, Sienna, he thought ruefully. You had to catch me right when I’m trying to be a better man. But I don’t think you’re even able to give me a conscious Yea or Nay right now.

He pushed through the still-broken doors of the armory. Then he worked his way back through the boxes and open crates by the moonlight pouring in through the side portholes. He found Sienna’s hammock, picked her up, and set her down in it as best he could.

“Caleb...” she whispered. “You don’t have to...I want you...”

“Shhhh...there will another night. One with less alcohol involved, I hope.” He leaned forward and kissed her warm, smooth forehead.

She responded with a sweet, catlike snore as she slipped into slumberland.

Caleb made his way back out on deck. He looked up at the stars framed against the dark line of the mainsail. A somewhat reckless thought came to him.

This must be the rum talking. But it’s been years since I did this...

He ran up the stairs to the great cabin. Caleb emerged with the spyglass tucked in a jacket pocket and went over towards the mainmast stays. Rory still lay slumped against the railing, blissfully snoring away.

Ignoring the passed-out crewman, Caleb began to climb. Hand over hand, he made his way up by holding onto the shrouds and using the horizonal ratlines like rungs on a ladder. In no time, his palms started to sting and knuckles crack.

Not as easy as I remembered it. Being captain makes you soft. Or spending years on a yacht with crewmen or automated systems to do the dirty work.

But he finally made it to the narrow platform of the fighting top, lungs burning. He leaned against the solid, reassuring mass of the mast and took out his spyglass. The moons had risen high enough to act like giant searchlights over the ocean.

All around him lay breathtaking views. A pounding perimeter of purple-white surf. The dim glow of the fire ashore, surrounded by passed-out bodies. Further up the beach, a slowly pacing unicorn. Shaw’s larger bulk loomed nearby, and the two seemed to be talking.

He raised the glass to look further afield.

Around the curve of the island, jutting up above the trees, he saw a pair of masts hung with the shadowy remnants of dark sails. A breeze caught and fluttered the last tatters of a Myrkur banner atop the forward mast. The dark mass of a raised fighting top platform hung underneath.

He blinked, thinking he saw something move in there, and re-focused his spyglass. Caleb held his breath, trying to hold the glass steady, watching and waiting.

Then he saw it.

A tiny pair of eyes glinted back at him.