When Ambrose did finally limp out from the captain’s quarters, wobbly and forcing down the last of a healing potion, night had fallen on both ships. The Sunset was again floating next to the Griffin’s Claw, both crews jogging this way and that. Repair wands, empty of charges, sat in a spiky pile on the main deck, while several pirates swept in steady lines with cleaning wands, clearing the last of the kraken remains.

Ambrose turned to the Sunset and leaned against the railing—the now whole, un-splintered railing—to admire the ally ship. In the darkness, it was a marvel. Crystals of every color and configuration hung in rope nets all about the rigging, turning the ship into a warm, bright carnival. On the main deck, a growing crowd was clustered around a lyre, a drum, and a pennywhistle, while Tom the parrot screeched along and looped in wobbly circles above their heads. Ambrose smiled—he supposed surviving a kraken did deserve some celebration, from all parties aboard.

And as the one who dealt the final blow to the beast, he wasn’t allowed to stay out of the celebrations himself. Banneker, fully healed and bouncing, was first to drag him into the fray, then Sherry, Dawn, and so on until he was convinced he had danced with the entirety of both crews.

But the night wasn’t done gifting them yet. Just as the shanties wore out and the pirates began to disperse, Banneker leaned over the railing and summoned them over.

“Look!” he waved, then pointed to the ocean. Sherry and Grim reached him first, and as they peered over the railing, a soft blue glow struck their faces.

“Oh!” Sherry beamed up at Grim. “That’s good luck, that is.”

Ambrose and Eli were next to follow, carefully leaning over to see what had caught their attention. At first, all Ambrose could see were dark waves—but as they lapped up against the hull, bright flashes of white and blue laced their edges, then faded away. Further out in the water, the silhouettes of dolphins breached the surface, brief and sparkling glows pinpointing their otherwise invisible migration.

“Glowing algae,” Ambrose whispered to Eli. “Gives off light when disturbed. It’s a rather unstable ingredient, and can actually be quite toxic to marine life depending on how it…” They all looked at him, and he waved a hand. “It’s good luck. Good luck, for sure.”

They all stood there for a while, admiring the rhythmic burst and fade of the glowing waves against the hull. Ambrose tried not to focus on the fact that Eli’s hand had fallen on his shoulder, his thumb absently rubbing the seam there. But the hand didn’t move, not when the other sailors slowly trailed off to their hammocks, leaving only the officers staring thoughtfully at the water.

Banneker eventually broke the silence, turning away from the waves and sliding down to sit on the deck. “If we do have to live on land some day,” he mused, “what would you all do?”

Everyone followed to sit with him, forming a haphazard circle around a lantern.

“Hm.” Sherry drummed her fingers on the planks. “Run an inn, perhaps. I’m too old to marry rich and embroider for the rest of my life.”

Grim shrugged. “We get that treasure, and you won’t have to marry to spend your days embroidering.”

“I’d get bored, I think.” Sherry smiled. “Would be back on a ship in a month, bossing all of you around.”

Banneker wrinkled his nose. “If I give you my share of the treasure, will you promise to stay away?”

“You take that back, you scoundrel—”

“Kidding, I’m kidding!”

As they continued their squabble on the other side of the lantern, Ambrose’s eyelids drooped, and he rested his head back against the railing. He peeked over at Eli, who was chewing his lip in thought.

“Eli,” he mumbled, “you would never live on land, would you?”

“I would.”

“Really?”

Eli picked at a splinter on deck as he nodded. “When I said we should all think about what comes next, I meant it. Pirates are never long for this world, and I rather like breathing.” He gave a small smile. “I think I could manage breathing on land for a while. Running a tavern of some sort. Settling down.”

The blue glow of the algae slipped past the railing and landed on Eli’s face. Ambrose watched the caustics shift along his temple.

“Settling down?” he repeated softly.

“Perhaps,” Eli said, then glanced at the other pirates. “If I find the right…place.”

“Of course.” Ambrose’s heartbeat quickened, and he chose his next words very carefully. “And you wouldn’t feel trapped on land? Stuck seeing the same…view every day?”

“Trapped? Not at all. ” Eli trailed a finger along the plank, his hand brushing against Ambrose’s. “Not if the view is nice enough.”

He locked eyes with Ambrose, whose rapid blush fought against the chilly air around them. His next question slipped boldly out of his lips. “And what sort of view would you seek, captain?”

“Eli!” Dawn called from the Sunset. Eli waved and made to stand—but not before leaning in close to Ambrose with a crooked grin.

“Something blue,” he murmured, and swept away towards the other ship. Ambrose watched him go, lips parted, heartbeat tumbling.

“Ames?” Banneker said from the other side of the lantern. “You alright?”

He scrambled to his feet and ran a hand through his hair. “Yes. Fine, I’m fine. Just, um—feeling a bit tired. You know,” he gave a weak punch to the air, “fighting a kraken and all that.”

“Get some rest.” Sherry nodded to his quarters. “We’ll be at the treasure before you know it.”

“The treasure. Yes, of course.” Ambrose followed her orders and escaped across deck. Once he was in his workroom, he let a foolish smile take over his face, then wrestled it away again. There was no point in chasing the captain’s smooth words just yet, he told himself. There was treasure to be found, a potion shop to be bought. He straightened his coat. He would deal with whatever view Eli sought once he had a view of his own to share.