Asena lead her out into the bitter Greenlandish cold. Conditions had certainly gotten worse since Thane had brought her to the great marble mansion. They passed a smaller marble building that glowed on their way to the resting place of the Bloodshed.

They entered a simple stone building about a mile up the coast from the house. The building itself may have been plain but what it lacked in grandeur, it made up for in sheer size. Akira had never seen a building as big or as long as the one that housed the Bloodshed. The ship itself was perfectly perserved by the cold and ice.

“How in the world did you pull her from the sea?” she asked.

“Technology,” was all Asena said, though she said it with a ghost of a smile.

“I don’t believe it!” Akira muttered to herself. “She’s so perfectly perserved it’s like she sunk yesterday!”

She began to walk the length of the hull, searching for any damage that might have caused her to sink. The hull itself was completely unmarred by damage on both sides, which went against every record she could find of the ship the last time it was seen.

“This doesn’t make sense,” she muttered. “All accounts say she was seen between Iceland and Greenland limping toward the Labrador Sea the last time she was seen. Yet, her hull shows no damage. Which must mean one of her masts could have been damaged, so she wasn’t at full sail. That could explain why reports said it looked like she was limping. But what could have caused that damage. All records indicate all goods were accounted for upon their arrival at their port of destination. So why would any of her masts be damaged? She could have been caught in a storm but there’s no record of any storm in that area. The only other explaination is the ship that sunk was not the Bloodshed at all. It was the ship she used to make supply runs. But why would she be coming in the direction of England? The English hated her. They wanted her hung. Which is why she usually traded with the French-Canadians or the indigenious peoples. This makes no bloody fucking sense!”

Akira had been pacing up and down the hull trying to piece things together but at this revalation she stopped and slammed her fist into the hull. She continued muttering that all of this didn’t make any sense while leaning against the hull of the ship that had haunted her since her childhood.

A knock sounded on the door, causing her to jump. Akira looked to her aunt confused. Asena chuckled and turned halfway to the door.

“Enter!” she called in a loud voice.

The door swung open, blasting them with wind and snow.

“You could have left the door open, you know!” the newcomer complained.

“Ehren, you’re here sooner than expected,” Asena said surprised. “Where is Ferros?”

The newcomer shrugged.

“Drayce Ehren,” Asena sighed. “You two are here for a reason.”

“One which father and you have yet to share with us!” he snapped.

Akira shrunk away from the conflict. She refocused on the ship in front of her. She noticed a rope dangling over the side and without a second thought snatched it. She began climbing up the side of the ship before her mind really had a chance to process what she was doing.

The door opened again. A second person entered the building but the wind caused the rope Akira was climbing to sway dangerously. She clung to it with all her strength. When the door closed she resumed her climb, hoping no one below her noticed what she was doing.

“Ferros, there you are!” Asena exclaimed.

“Forgive me Lady Asena,” he said with a bow.

“Stop being so formal for now,” her aunt chastised him.

“Of course,” he replied.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” she said.

Akira nearly froze.

“Akira, do come down from there dear,” her tone was patronizing.

“Rather not,” Akira replied in a clipped voice. “I’m not one for crowds.”

“This is hardly a crowd!” Asena exclaimed in amusement.

“To you!” Akira snapped. “Besides, you just presented me with what I’ve been researching for nearly 7 years. There’s a lot of this that doesn’t make sense to me and I’d like to figure it out before you have that brute Thane take me home.”

The boys snickered until her aunt gave them a pointed glare. She sighed.

“I understand your eagerness, child, but there’s a reason I had that brute as you called him bring you here,” she replied.

“Do you want me to tell the story of the Bloodshed or not?” Akira demanded hauling herself up onto the deck.

“That’s the whole point!” her aunt snapped. “I brought these two here to help you!”

“I don’t need help,” Akira sighed. “I have a grant and plenty of rich backers who are financing everything. This is my project. My life’s work as well as my father’s.”

“Who is your father?” one of the young men asked.

“Why do you care who he is?” she retorted.

“Might know him is all,” he replied with a shrug.

“I doubt you’d know Arran Loxley Eames,” she said with a laugh.

“Your father is Loxley Eames?” they asked in unison and quite apparent surprise.

“Isn’t that what I just said?” Akira answered with a raised eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Few, if any, knew her father. He was a brillant man and fabulous archeologist but he wasn’t well known. He’d wanted to change that by finding the Bloodshed but had had a stroke a year into researching it.

“No way! There’s just no way Loxley Eames is your father!” one said incredulously.

Akira stared down at the two young men. Without a word, she swung down from the ship and landed in front of them.

“Akira-Mavi Asena Eames, at your service,” she said with a mocking bow.

“You’re an archeologist?”

“What? A woman can’t have a profession too?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Perhaps not but it’s certainly between the lines of what you did say.”

“Be careful what you say to this one Ehren, she has a quick mind and whip-like tongue,” Thane said.

“Don’t most women?” Ehren asked.

Akira laughed out loud.

“What?” Ehren asked bewildered.

“You must live a sheltered life,” Akira told him when she was able to speak again. “Women are taught from a young age to be quiet, meek and obedient. Which is complete bullshit but that opinion got me into a lot of trouble as a kid.”

“Akira, language!” Asena griped.

“Who are you, my mother?” Akira asked dryly.

Asena sighed and shook her head.

“You’re family, true enough, but very distant family. Do you really have any right to be telling me off about my language when you grew up around pirates and certainly heard worse?”

“Point taken,” Asena nodded.

Akira turned and went back to the ship. She ran her hand along the hull again. Not a single bit of damage that would suggest she could have sunk.

“Why do you look as if you were just pulled from the water yesterday?” she asked the ship quietly. “Gods, she’s a beautiful ship. What I wouldn’t have given to sail the seas with the Wolfe of the Atlantic.”