Caleb licked his lips. He still tasted a hint of the piña colada’s dark rum, coconut, and ripe pineapple.

He heard a gentle laugh at that. Then a female voice. It was soft, without the harsh undertone of surf and restrained god-power.

“It seems that Lir was kind enough to let you out of his Blue Cellar,” the voice said. “And what’s more, I’m guessing that he treated you to roast sea bream and honey cake.”

Caleb felt a soft pillow under his head, the gentle rock of a ship at sea. His nose wrinkled at the faint smell of antiseptics. He opened his eyes and found himself lying in a wide bunk set into one of his sloop’s below-deck compartments.

Nearby wooden shelves held metal tools, jars of light blue liquid, and coils of bandages. Sunlight shone through a block of glass set into the ceiling. A young woman with tightly bound red hair, a creamy pale complexion, and kind eyes moved over to stand next to his bunk.

Her canvas apron had been freshly washed. But it still bore the faint imprint of bloodstains. Mute evidence of the work she’d been doing.

Harper O’Breen, he recalled. Just like Sienna, she’s easy on the eyes and tough as nails.

“It was more Danu than Lir,” he gritted, through a dry throat. Indeed, the Goddess’ drink had been refreshing, but the effects hadn’t transferred over to the waking world. A dull pain radiated up from leg, and his head spun. “I need to get up. Back on deck.”

“Easy there, Captain,” she said, in a gentle, sing-song voice. She helped him sit up. “We’re in no danger that can’t be handled by Quartermaster Sheahan or Miss Morningstar. You’ve been out chasin’ sheep over fences for a while. Don’t try to stand quite yet.”

“How long?”

“An afternoon and a night.”

She grabbed a wooden cup and pressed it into his hands. He took it and drank deeply. Cool fresh water went down his throat, perking him up and making him feel steadier already.

“Seconds, if you have it,” he said, after draining the cup. “Are we out of the Maulding Shoals yet?”

“Aye to the first, nay to the latter. We’re doing repairs right now.” Harper said, as she poured more water into the cup. Seeing the look on his face, she added, “No, I don’t know more than that. I do my best to fix men, not ships.”

He drained the cup again, and then shifted position with a sigh.

“You do good work, Miss O’Breen.”

A shy smile blossomed on her tired face at those words.

“Harper, if you please, Captain. ‘Doc Harper’ in public if you must. Truth be told, I was wondering when I would see you in my infirmary. I’m happy that I was able to keep you from joining Lir and Danu’s chorus of souls.”

“That you did. Thank you.” Caleb squeezed her hand in thanks, though the gesture colored her cheeks. “What happened to me? I remember wrapping the boom to keep it from splitting apart, and then I passed out…”

“Blood loss,” she explained. “A piece of shrapnel nicked your leg just below the top edge of your boot. You didn’t notice because the bleeding was contained in your footwear. Well, until you collapsed.”

Well, that explains the weird squishing sensation when I was walking around.

“I need to see if the leg’s sound,” he said aloud.

Harper reluctantly stepped back as Caleb swung his legs over the side of the bunk. His legs and feet were bare, and a cloth bandage had been securely wrapped around his left leg, slightly below the knee. It sent up a throb of pain as he moved, but he put it in the back of his mind as he moved to stand up.

The deck was cool under his bare feet. He swayed for a moment, making Harper reach out for him, but he waved her off. She nodded, then grabbed a spare set of trousers, socks, and shoes out of a compartment next to her.

“Your pants and boots were a complete loss,” she explained, handing them over. “Sienna brought these from your cabin. I’ll go let her know you’re up and about.”

“Sounds good,” he said, as she left the compartment.

He gingerly slipped on the clothing, trying his best not to bend his left leg. Only once he’d slipped on the shoes and socks did he remember that he’d reached a brand new level. He’d just missed most of the fireworks that usually came with the accomplishment.

A quick wave of one hand, and he pulled up his Vital Statistics Window.

All three horizontal bars in gleamed back at him. The green one representing his health was down by a quarter. The blue bar showing his physical stamina had been cut in half, but he’d expected that.

For a change, the yellow bar displaying his magical energy was more than half full and rising.

He reached out and used a finger to flip over to his updated Character Sheet. Yet again, he’d received minor but significant upgrades to his skills.

Name: Caleb Ledger Level: Fourteen Class: Wizard / Corsair Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Individual-Specific Specialty: XP Edge - Enhanced 40% Wizardly Sub-Specialties: Weathermancy, Craft with Iron Corsair Sub-Specialties: Charisma Boost, Dead Reckoning, Piratical Flair, Depth Sense, Bluff Assist, Swap XP for Gold Existing Buff / Debuffs: Innate Charisma increased 9% Potential Buff / Debuffs: Corsair abilities shall slowly decrease or be revoked by an individual who does not conduct himself properly or wear appropriate attire for extended periods. Unspent XP 320

He paused as he looked over the unchanged list of Corsair Sub-Specialties. Then he recalled the screen announcement from the last time he’d leveled up: After Level 13 you shall only be receiving a new Corsair Sub-specialty every other level.

With that settled, he took a look at the changes to the first of his two areas of spellcasting.

Craft with Iron Spells available for individuals ranked up through Level Fourteen:

Magnetize Needle Locate Metal Shard Hold Metal Shard Mend Forge Crack, Minor Extend Forge Crack, Minor Sense Metallic Weapon’s Qualities Sense Value of Coinage Align Metal Object (18) Change Metal Object’s Buoyancy Heat Dispersion Mend Forge Crack (25) Extend Forge Crack (25) Assess Metallic Object’s Value (26)

“Interesting,” he remarked to himself. “Another valuation spell. If it’s good for specific objects, not just coins, that’s pretty useful. Once I have the coins to activate it, anyway.”

He turned his attention to the second area of magic on his sheet.

Weathermancy Spells available for individuals ranked up through Level Fourteen:

Call Up Mist Move Fog Thicken Clouds Wind Cast, Minor Wind Shift, Minor Dancing Lights Increase Ambient Humidity Decrease Ambient Humidity Squall Burst St. Agobard’s Fire Wind Cast (45) Wind Shift (45) Call Up Storm, Minor (50)

The new spell here piqued his interest even more.

“Now we’re talking,” he said quietly. “Calling up storms, that’s what a Weathermancer should really shine. But…what does ‘Minor’ mean?”

His mind replied helpfully: It probably means I can make it drizzle enough to make it unpleasant to stand out on deck. But we’ll never find out if we don’t start earning some gold to activate these spells!

Before he could shut down those grumpy thoughts, he heard the pounding of feet, the clop of hooves, and the scrape of talons on the forward stairs. Suddenly, a white-feathered head poked in through the door, barred from going any further by the width of a pair of gold-furred shoulders. A loud, happy chirp reverberated off the walls.

“Thou art still among the living!” Shaw enthused.

“Yes, though it’s been a challenge, my friend,” Caleb said, trying not to laugh.

“‘Tis a happy day indeed!” But the griffin reconsidered a moment, then went on in a more serious tone. “Happy for mine own self, at any rate. Art thou disheartened to not have perished gloriously in battle?”

“I’ll do my best to control my disappointment.”

“Cheer thyself, then! Surely there will be more opportunities in the future!”

“Yeah, if there’s one thing I don’t doubt, it’s that.”

“Shaw!” Sienna’s voice sounded from the hallway outside. “Stop blocking the door, other people have to see Captain Ledger too!”

“Mine own proportions are built for battle, not belowdecks,” the drake apologized, as he drew out of the way.

Sienna and Tavia managed to squeeze into the infirmary, though with two humans and a unicorn, the room was close to capacity. A calico cat squirmed in his quartermaster’s arms. The feline worked herself free and leaped over to the bed. She immediately began rubbing her body against Caleb, practically pushing herself into his arms.

“Miss me, Breena?” Caleb asked, as he stroked the splashcat’s plush fur. He was rewarded with a deep set of purrs. “You did, didn’t you?”

Sienna’s eyes shone with tears, which she quickly wiped away. She tried to speak, failed, and cleared her throat before trying anew.

“The doctor could hardly keep her out of the infirmary last night,” she finally said. “She was worried about you. We all were, Captain. I hear that it was touch-and-go for a little while. It may not have been a large wound, but it ran deep. You lost a great deal of blood.”

“Thank you,” Caleb said simply. “Doc Harper did her best. As did Tavia, I suspect.”

The unicorn nodded wearily. While physically unharmed, Tavia looked tired, drained. As with Harper’s apron, it was mute evidence that the mare had been busy.

“The doctor was able to stabilize you,” Tavia said. “I was able to restore some of your vitals, though not all. There were other wounded to attend to, and a certain griffin. The magical slug in his body did more damage than I’d thought at first. It had to be removed, lest he collapse a lung.”

“‘Twas not that serious!” Shaw protested, from just outside the cabin. “My body doth possess two lungs, if thou hadst not noticed.”

Caleb decided to let that one go by.

“Speaking of serious,” he said, as Breena finally settled down and draped herself over his leg, “give me the rundown. How badly are we hurt, and why aren’t we out of the Maulding Shoals yet?”

“We’ve taken some losses,” Sienna admitted. “As for why we’re not out of the shoals yet, there’s two reasons: repairs and riches.”

Caleb’s eyebrow went up at that.

“All right, you officially have my attention.”