When Dawn Kerighin returned, it was with both glad and ill tidings.

“Where are the rascals?” She had teleported straight onto deck, not waiting for the gangplank to be lowered between their ships. As she sauntered about the planks and shouted for her friends, a bottle of wine and a cloth-covered basket swung from her hands. “Where are those blathering idiots? Where’s the scamp who set fire to the Intrepid without me, and where’s the fool who’s kissing him?”

“Over here!” Eli waved from the helm. “I’m the fool!”

Ambrose poked his head out of his quarters and glared at the woman. “How did you know? You haven’t even been here!”

Dawn pulled the enchanted letter paper out of her pocket and waved it at him. “You think I don’t have spies on this ship of yours, Mr. Beake?”

Sherry strolled by with a satisfied smile.

“What have you got for us?” Eli slid down the railing and gave her a hug. “Fresh plunder?”

“Bought these fair and square, cap’n.” She handed Eli the wine, and Ambrose the basket. “Thought we should celebrate your victory. I heard all about the Intrepid limping into port, of course. A bucket of charcoal, listing near parallel to the waves.” She lay a hand over her heart. “Music to my ears, it was.”

Ambrose peeked under the basket and began to drool instantly—cheese pastries, berry turnovers, and was that a chocolate something or other at the bottom?

But Eli was frowning at the wine label. He looked up to Dawn, whose smile had faded. Without hesitation, he gave a subtle nod to Grim and swept off. “Navigation room, if you would, Captain Dawn.”

#

Eli placed the bottle in the middle of the table as soon as everyone was settled. “Laskell wine.”

Dawn nodded. “Indeed.”

“I don’t like having this on my ship, Dawn.”

Clearly, no one else did either. Banneker slouched at the table. Sherry sat stiffly, her eyes anywhere but on the bottle. Grim wasn’t even sitting—they stood at the door, eyes roving across the windows outside.

Ambrose had no idea what any of it meant, so he snuck a pastry out of the basket and cleared his throat. “Is it…bad wine?”

Eli began pacing around the table. “Last time any of us drank it, we were in this cabin together. Three Navy ships on the horizon, no allies or land in sight.” He stopped in front of the windows, his shoulders tense. “We thought we were dead men.”

“And how did you get away?”

“Used every bit of magic we had and lost them in the shoals,” Dawn said quietly. “Never drank the wine again.”

Everyone stared at the bottle for a moment.

“It’s bad luck, bringing it aboard,” Banneker muttered.

“The bad luck has already found you.” Dawn stood. “Pearce is out for revenge, and he’s not traveling with just one ship anymore. He’s not going to bring you into port or drag you before a judge. He’s sinking the Claw on sight.”

Ambrose set the pastry on the table, his appetite lost. “This is my fault.” He looked to Eli’s silhouette, which made no motion. His voice began to shake. “Eli, this is my fault, I brought this upon us—“

“You did not.” Eli whirled around. “No matter how we got away from the Intrepid, Pearce was always going to follow. That’s the sort of man he is, you know that.” He glanced out towards deck, where the rest of the crew chatted happily, still under the impression their leadership was celebrating the victory with a simple bottle of wine. “Thank you for the warning, Dawn. How much time do we have?”

“Depends on how long it takes Pearce to find a new ship and assemble his fleet,” Dawn said. “I’ve already begun sending messages to allies, but…if we keep sailing for that treasure, they won’t be able to get to us in time.”

Silence settled over the table, until Ambrose was afraid the rest of the group could hear his heart crack. So that was it, then. Even when he was away from the Navy, Pearce still had a vise grip on his life.

Eli took the bottle of wine and opened it.

“I’ll not speak for anyone else at the table,” he said, pouring the blood-red liquid into a glass, “but I’m not letting a damn commodore get in my way. I’m going after the treasure.”

He held up the bottle. Grim was first to tilt their glass in Eli’s direction. “Aye.”

Ambrose’s heart stumbled as Sherry went next, then Banneker.

“What sort of pirates would we be if we let that man scare us, hm?” Banneker swirled his wine. “Not very good pirates at all.”

“Wise as ever, Banneker.” Dawn took the bottle and poured her own fate. “Captain, you’ll have the support of the Sunset until the end.”

She turned to Ambrose, and he realized that everyone was looking at him. The only person with an empty glass.

He stood, took the bottle from Dawn, and drank directly from it.

“I’ve sunk him once,” he said, the wine bitter on his tongue. “I can do it again.”