Bay dances and spins in circles with excitement as I enter my cabin for the first time in over a week. Dusty had sneaked him into the medical room on a few occasions, but the otter had kicked up a fuss when it was time to leave and couldn’t understand why I wasn’t able to walk and play with him as usual.

Fortunately, with the help of Dusty cooking up remedies from my mother's book, I have recovered surprisingly quickly. Doctor Wallace was amazed at my progress and had asked for copies of the recipes. I was more than happy to give them to him after all the effort he put in to save my life.

I pick Bay up and carry him to the bed, where I rest him on my lap and rub his belly. He happily chirps and whines as I scratch him in all his favourite spots. “It’s okay, Bay. I’m here now,” I tell him quietly. “It’s just going to be you and me from now on, but I’ll do my best to give you a good life.”

Being stuck in the medical room has given me a lot of time to think and process everything, especially after what Cail told me. I have come to the conclusion that he’s right; I don’t belong here. My experiences have made me single-minded and reckless, two traits that don’t make for a good crew member. I’ve already been incredibly foolish; I set out on this journey to avenge the death of my people, but all I have done recently is lose my head over a man after one insignificant kiss. The more I think about it, the more I realise that I’m no better than Freya. That ends tonight; from this moment forward, I’m only going to be focusing on what I set out to do. I’m not sure where to go from here, but I can’t stay on the ship, and I’m not about to hide out in Bise.

Leaving Bay on the bed, I retrieve a dried fish from the stockpile I keep in one of my drawers and toss it to him. That should keep him occupied while I pack.

All I have to put my belongings in is a drawstring sack that I bought in Rimewick to carry my herbs in. First, I throw in my spare clothes, followed by my mother’s book, food for Bay, my stockpile of remedies, and the aftercare kit that the surgeon had discharged me with.

The cutlasses are weapons belonging to the Zarla, but I have become so familiar with the blades that I can’t bear to part with them, so instead, I sheath them on my belt. I’m sure they won’t be missed, just as I won’t.

I remember the yellow crystal pendant around my neck and reach around to unclasp it, but, as I hold it out in my hands to drop it on the desk, an uncomfortable tugging sensation in my chest makes me pause. Memories drift into my mind of the moments I had spent with Cail: our first meeting in the moonlight, getting drunk in the navigation room, learning to use the sextant, tossing coins into the fountain, and the feeling of his lips on mine. As much as I tell myself that I dislike him now, I can’t let go of the gift, so I return it around my neck.

I do leave the thick green cloak on the back of the door. I thought it would have been ruined after everything that I went through in Torver, but Dusty has spent hours of his spare time cleaning it up for me, and it looks almost as new. Even the soot stains have vanished.

I briefly think about writing a note to leave for Dusty, but I know that I will never be able to find the right words to tell him why I’m leaving. I just hope that one day he realises that he’ll be better off without me.

“Come on, Bay,” I say as I pick him up off the bed. He has put on some weight recently, and I suspect that Dusty has been overfeeding him. As I step out into the corridor with my bag slung over my shoulder, I hear the familiar dinnertime chatter coming from the open door of the mess hall. I can't resist sneaking a peek inside.

Everyone is their usual selves: Leki has finished his food and is falling asleep on his plate, Trevor is telling the same anecdotes that he tells every meal, the quartermaster is complaining about something with his nose shrivelled, Grimsby is fiddling with some mechanical box on the desk, and Iris is praising Dusty for one of the dishes he cooked. Freya is trying to pull Cail into a conversation, but his face looks solemn and pensive as he pokes at the food with his fork.

I sigh sadly; I would be lying if I said that I wouldn’t miss them.

“Miss Wavegrey,” a voice says from behind.

I jolt and spin to see the captain standing in the doorway to the main deck.

“Captain.” I nod my head respectfully. His use of my last name is unusual. Since my first day, no one had used it; I didn’t even think they remembered it. Though, I suppose a captain would be expected to know the names of his crew.

“Are you going somewhere?” he says brusquely.

“I’m just … erm. I was going too …” I can’t think up a good excuse, and telling the captain that I am leaving his ship for good doesn’t seem like a good idea.

“Well, before you decide where it is that you’re going, I’d like to speak with you in the war room,” he says, turning to stride across the deck. “You can bring your pet,” he calls back.

What could he possibly want to talk about? Has Cail asked him to dismiss me from the crew already? I have only just been discharged from the medical bay; he could at least give me a chance to leave of my own accord.

I trudge across the deck after the captain, disgruntled that my plan to just slip away undetected has been thwarted.

The captain enters the war room and holds the door open for me. I start as I walk through and realise that we are not alone. A large man with dark hair and a tidy beard sits in one of the chairs at the nearest end of the table. He is wearing what looks to be a Linarian military uniform with an abundance of medals and badges attached.

“I would like to introduce you to Commander Elias Larson. I’m sure you recall hearing about him in my briefings. Commander, this is Sefafina Wavegray, one of our first bloods,” The captain says.

“Miss Wavegrey, it’s a pleasure.” The Commander rises from his seat to shake my hand.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Commander Larson,” I say, bowing my head in respect.

“My, what manners. That’s something you rarely see from an aerial crew member these days, Joseph.”

“You make us sound utterly feral, Commander,” the captain laughs. “Please, take a seat, Sefarina.” He gestures to a chair opposite as he sits next to the commander.

I shuffle into the seat, bewildered. I have never seen the captain behave this relaxed, and it’s confusing me. In fact, everyone has been acting so out of character since I woke from my short coma that it wouldn’t be the first time I have considered the possibility that I’m stuck in an alternate reality.

“Is that an otter?” the commander asks, his face filled with astonishment.

“That’s our resident pest-catcher,” the captain provides before I can answer.

“Fascinating! What kind of pests does it catch?” Commander Larson leans over the table to look closer at Bay.

I’m unsure what to say, the only thing I’ve ever seen Bay catch is fish, and there’s none of those wreaking havoc on the ship.

“Imaginary weevils, apparently,” Captain Coldrun chuckles.

A faint whiff of alcohol reaches my nose, and their relaxed demeanour suddenly makes sense.

I shift in my seat, impatient to find out what this is all about.

“I’ll get straight down to business, Miss Wavegrey,” the commander says as though reading my thoughts. “I’d like to start by saying that I have heard of your ventures with the crew, and, I have to say, I’m as impressed as your good captain here.”

“Impressed?” I question. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t quite follow. I have messed up badly on these ventures. I thought that’s why I’m being dismissed from the crew.”

The commander looks at the captain questioningly.

“Dismissed?” The captain raises his eyebrows. “If you are being dismissed, this is the first I am hearing about it, which is concerning for a captain. Which situation do you believe you messed up badly on?” he questions.

I frown. I’m becoming increasingly convinced that this conversation is part of some strange dream.

“When I was on the Vardran ship, I ignored your orders to retreat, and Cail was shot as a result. We nearly lost the ship.” I say, although perhaps admitting my disobedience to the captain might not be the best idea.

The captain straightens up, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his hand. “When you applied to be a first blood, were you not informed that the role came with a high chance of mortality?”

“I was, and I was okay with that,” I reply, unsure what his point is.

He nods. “Good, because the role of a first blood is essentially sacrificial. We are sending just two of you onto a ship with a large number of enemies; the odds are highly stacked against you. And while I did call for a retreat, I was prepared to leave you on that ship without hesitation. Had we done so, your commendable sacrifice could have bought us essential time to remove ourselves from the conflict with minimal damage. It was Cail, however, who disobeyed me that day, and for that, he was severely reprimanded. You are expendable, but him, on the other hand …” the captain sighs. “I made a promise to his father that I would protect him, and Cail knew that I wouldn’t have left him behind.”

I pinch my temples between my fingers and take a deep breath. Cail defying the captain to save my life would imply that he cares, but the way he spoke in the medical room made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t. I kick myself internally; I promised myself that I wouldn’t think about him anymore and only focus on the war.

“What about the situation in Torver? Our mission was just to locate the ships, not investigate them,” I say.

“Yes, that is true to some extent. But, as I said, you are our most expendable crew member. Had another member found the ships and reported it to me, I would have sent either you or Rat to investigate. I applaud your initiative to act when you thought you were presented with the best opportunity. As far as I can tell, the only mistake you made was taking the faun with you. He's rather a good cook, and he would have deeply been missed if he had died.”

I smile slightly and pick at a hangnail on my thumb. Putting Dusty in danger is my biggest regret. I'm glad he is being appreciated for his talents.

“If neither of you had survived, however, your sacrifice would have been for nothing, since we wouldn’t have been any wiser about the ships. But your resilience and wit kept you alive, and now we know what we are working with. We are both greatly impressed with your results.”

The commander nods in agreement. “It’s true. It’s rare to find a soldier who is so willing to give up their life for their faction. Of course, it’s something all soldiers commit to upon joining, but very few actually face the possibility of their own death. When the time comes, self-preservation usually kicks in. You are already on your way to becoming a fine warrior in this war.”

I fiddle uncomfortably. I’m not sure how to react or respond to this sudden praise. It goes against everything that Cail has been telling me, and I’m not sure what’s right or what’s real anymore.

“Let’s cut to the chase, Miss Wavegrey. After receiving a message from Calarel in Ravenglass about your mission, I flew to Torver with a fleet of Linaria’s finest soldiers alongside some other aerial crews to assist in the take-down of the Vardrans here. Three days ago, our ground troops intercepted a small group of Vardran mercenaries attempting to pass over the Kestrian border. From what Calarel has told us, they’re not the first. We believe that Vardra is sending reinforcements to man these ships that you discovered with the impenetrable protective coating. We have observed that the ships enter Torver, have the coating applied at the foundries, and then move on to amass at the Elcica border.”

“The country of Elcica is Linarian territory, and where much of our military and arsenal are held. It appears that the Vardrans might be planning an attack now that they have the advantage,” the captain adds.

“We have sent reinforcements and begun civilian evacuation, but with these new ships, our hopes of winning are slim. We are looking at great losses,” the commander says.

I shudder. This is chilling news, but I still don’t understand why I’m the only one being briefed. Shouldn’t the rest of the crew be in here?

“What is the plan?” I ask, feeling impatient.

The commander’s face becomes more serious. “We need to find out their plans in detail, and, more importantly, we need to expose any of their weaknesses. To do that, we need to have someone working on the inside.”

“You mean like a spy?” I say.

“Exactly like a spy, which brings us to you.” Commander Larson smiles and stares at me pointedly.

My eyes flit between the two men in disbelief. “You can’t surely be trusting me with such a task? I’m not even fully trained. You said yourself that you came here with Linaria's finest soldiers; why not send one of them?” I bumble. With my lapse in judgement and bad instincts recently, I don’t trust myself with such a crucial mission.

“Miss Wavegrey, despite the fact that Captain Coldrun and I have complete faith in your abilities, there are other factors at play here. One of the Vardrans we captured is a woman who is around your height and build. On her, we found papers signed by a Vardran official assigning her to active duty. The soldiers are unaware of her capture, so we propose that you assume her identity and join their forces in her place.”

I shake my head in doubt. “This plan can’t possibly work. They’d surely notice that I look nothing like her.”

“The woman has told us that none of the Vardran soldiers in the city have ever seen her before,” the commander says.

“And you believe her? That sounds like something she would say, knowing very well that we’d be walking into a trap,” I say doubtfully.

“Mercenaries are much more eager to give up information than a soldier would, and based on her country of origin, it is extremely unlikely that she would have ever crossed paths with this group. I can assure you that you will not be recognised.”

His words stir up further doubt in me.

“I encountered the Vardrans aboard the ship we battled; they saw me clearly,” I say.

“Those ships in question have already docked at the Elcica border. None of the Vardrans in Torver have seen you unless they saw your face when they pursued you through the city,” the captain says.

I shake my head. “No, they saw Dusty, but I had my hood up at all times. I don’t even know that they noticed I was female.”

“Well then, you have nothing to worry about,” says the commander. “Another reason why you’re perfect for the job—and I hope you don’t mind me saying this—is that you have an exotic appearance not typical of a Linarian. If you hadn’t already proven your loyalty, I might have accused you of being a Vardran spy. We can use this to our advantage since your features and olive skin tone wouldn’t be out of place in Vardran countries. You’re much more likely to infiltrate their troops undetected.”

“That’s good, I suppose,” I say. I’m not sure I like being told I look like a Vardran, but if it helps to keep me alive then I can’t complain. At least it’s a step up from being called a witch.

“What’s your answer to my proposition?” the commander prompts.

I hesitate, still unsure of whether I can pull this off. “What exactly is your plan? If I say yes, what am I supposed to do once they accept me as one of them?”

The commander raises his hands. “It’s simple; you carry out your duties for them as though you are a regular soldier. Try to gain their trust, analyse the way they behave, imitate them, anything you need to do to blend in. Listen out for any details on when and where they plan to attack. They might not tell you information directly, but I’m sure you’ll be able to eavesdrop on a few conversations. In addition to that, you need to ask about the coating on the ship in the most natural way possible. Make sure it doesn’t sound like you’re trying to pry them for information—in fact, try to question a lower-ranking Vardran; they are less likely to suspect anything. From my experience, they’re also not the most intelligent, so they may end up giving away more information than you suspect. All in all, I think you’ll be quite capable of thinking on your feet and improvising.”

He makes it sound so easy. I think the commander is overestimating my social skills; I can’t even get less than half of the crew on the Zarla to talk to me, let alone suspicious Vardrans.

“And if I obtain this information, how would I communicate it to you?” I ask.

Commander Larson and Captain Coldrun exchange glances. “We haven’t been able to reach an agreement about that part of the plan,” the commander admits reluctantly. “The easiest option would be for you to leave the Vardrans and return to us once you have substantial information. But the problem we face is that once they realise you’re gone, they’ll come to the conclusion that you’re a Linarian spy, and we’ll lose the element of surprise. Therefore, we propose that you use that tactic as a last resort if you are unable to pass on messages by other means,” he says.

“Other means?” I question.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to get creative with whatever opportunities you are presented with. We will try to have people tracking your activity; say if you’re asked to travel to the market, we will have someone there who you can slip information to,” Captain Coldrun says.

I shake my head and gnaw at the frayed skin around my fingers. “This plan is full of holes and relies too much on chance,” I say.

“Success is mostly derived from luck and chance, Miss Wavegrey. We are well aware of how risky this plan is, but unfortunately, it’s all we have. As it is, we cant fight these new ships, and they are way more prepared for large-scale combat than we are. Anything that you can gain from this undercover operation could possibly save countless lives.” Commander Larson says.

Bay chirps impatiently in my arms, and I rub his neck to appease him. I don’t know what to make of this request, especially since I was prepared to leave the crew completely not twenty minutes ago. But then what would I do? I am still determined to have my revenge, but without support and guidance, I don’t even know where to begin. As flawed as it may be, the commander is presenting me with a window of opportunity that gives me everything I want. And I’ll still be leaving the Zarla, so Cail will get what he wants too. It seems like a win–win for everyone.

“Of course, I understand that we have probably overloaded you with information, and you need time to process, Miss Wavegrey. We don’t expect your answer straight away and will give you some time to mull it over,” the commander offers.

“Thank you, Commander, but that won’t be necessary. I accept the mission,” I say with resolution.

The commander and the captain look at each other, clearly surprised by my quick acceptance.

“Are you sure about this, Sefarina? Once again, we are asking you to put your life on the line,” Captain Coldrun says.

I nod. “I was willing to give up my life for the war when I accepted the role of first blood, Captain, and nothing has changed since then,” I say firmly. “I do have one request, though, if I’m going to do this.”

“What might that be?” the captain asks.

“There are some crew members on this ship that might try to stop me from taking on this mission. If possible, I’d like to leave immediately and not have them know about it until absolutely necessary.” I can’t imagine how Dusty would react if he found out, and I don’t want to be around to witness it. And I’m sure Cail and Freya wouldn’t be happy if I hung around longer than necessary.

“That won’t be an issue,” the commander says cheerfully. “You will be an honourable guest upon my ship, The Rapture. We will brief you on everything you need to know and transform you into a Vardran.”

“Well, that seems to be our business here settled,” the captain says. “I hope I managed to help with your dilemma, Miss Wavegrey.”

“Dilemma, captain?” I ask, confused.

“About where it is that you’re going,” he says.

This time, as I walk back through the streets of Torver, my heart is hardened, and I feel as though I am truly alone in the world. Instead of sneaking or crawling, I walk with my head held high in the direction of the foundry.

After the meeting with the captain and the commander, I had taken Bay back to my room and quickly wrote a note for Dusty to take care of him for me and slipped it under his door. I struggled to fight back the tears as I kissed the otter on the top of his head before walking out of the door. When I first saved the animal, I had never expected that I would form such a close bond with him. It is as though we have an incomprehensible and unspoken understanding of each other that I doubt I would ever experience again with another being—if I were lucky enough to live, that is.

Onboard The Rapture, the commander, and his officers had given me numerous lessons on basic Vardran mannerisms and customs. I was then dressed in the clothes that were taken from the captured woman. Upon realising that she had been forcibly undressed, I expressed concern about her wellbeing, but the Commander assured me that she was being taken care of by female officers and that, unlike Vardra, the Linarian military are not barbarians.

A sudden sharp gust cuts into my skin, and I shudder. These clothes are much lighter than what I have been used to. They are obviously made for an arid climate and consist of a thin, tight breathable cotton overlaid with sturdy armour patches that are strapped to my shoulders, forearms, chest, and legs. Small carved wooden charms in the shapes of animals, people, and symbols hang from metal rings pushed through the material of the clothes. I feel guilty for wearing them; they seem personal and obviously mean a lot to the Vardran woman.

Since the clothes offer little protection against the cold northern air, the commander had ordered his team to find me a neutral cloth shawl that I could use. Unfortunately, the woman’s boots had been a size too small, so I had been allowed to wear my own. Commander Larson had also made me get my right ear pierced in three places, and now silver hoops hang from them painfully. He had told me this fashion was common in Vardra and would help me to blend in.

I had wanted to bring my pendant with me, not only for the warmth but also because I find it comforting, but the commander had told me that it would be too risky. The crystals are associated with the fae, and my affiliation with them would raise too much suspicion. I also had to leave my cutlasses behind, since they do not conform to the style of weapons that are used by the Vardrans. Instead, I have a series of knives hanging on my belt that was taken from the woman. They are rough with bone handles that I hope belonged to an animal and not a captured Linarian.

I make my way to the harbour and enter the maze network of alleyways that I ran down with Dusty to escape the Vardrans, but I can’t remember which turns we took, and I somehow keep making my way back out to the main streets of the city. Eventually, I pick out a dark plume of smoke against the grey cloud and try to follow the direction it’s coming from. Relief washes over me when I finally stop outside the iron gates of the foundry.

As I move to unlatch the gate, the blade of a halberd swings down, narrowly missing my fingers.

“State your business, wench,” a guttural voice says. His ears are larger and droopier than the others I have seen so far, but the Vardran on the other side of the fence is still undeniably goblin.

I clear my throat. “My name is Vispera Miah. I am a mercenary hired to assist in the assault,” I say.

The goblin looks me up and down before unlatching the gate. “Come with me,” he orders.

He keeps his halberd pointed at my back as he directs me across the yard to one of the docked ships.

“Bink!” he calls suddenly, making me jump. A short goblin with a small face and wide eyes peers over the edge of the ship. “Get Captain Nash!”

I fight to control my nerves as I wait, rehearsing the lines in my head.

Two Vardrans emerge from the ship and make their way down the gangplank, followed by the small goblin, who I assume is Bink.

I am surprised to find that the captain is human, albeit a very large one, with a bald head and scars that cover his entire face. His bulging muscles ripple as he swaggers toward us.

Behind him is a tall, lanky man with a long bulbous nose and greyish skin. His pointed teeth are yellowish-brown and protrude from between his lips.

As they stop in front of me, I close my eyes and bow slightly with my right fist clenched over my heart in what Commander Larson tells me is the Vardran customary greeting.

“Who is this?” the captain asks gruffly.

“She says she is a Vardran mercenary,” the goblin behind me says.

“Bink, get my roster!” the captain barks.

“Yes, captain.” The small goblin scurries back onto the ship.

The captain towers over me and looks down his nose. I make a point of staring back with my gaze unwavering.

“Give me your papers,” he orders.

I reach into my pocket and produce the crumpled piece of paper that was taken from the Vardran mercenary. He immediately snatches it out of my hand and peers over it.

Bink returns with a large thick book, and the captain takes it from him, flicking through the pages.

“Vispera Miah,” he says slowly. “I don’t see your name on my list.” He glares down at me accusingly.

My heartbeat thumps in my ears, and I feel myself sweating. “Perhaps I was hired by another captain,” I offer.

“I hire the mercenaries!” he bellows so loudly that my ears ring, and I flinch back.

“Captain, I think her name is there,” the tall man points at the book from over the captain’s shoulder.

“Huh, so it is. Thank you, Ekon.” The captain sounds calmer now. He studies the book more and frowns before looking back at me. “You should have been here three days ago.”

“Apologies, Captain, the wagon I was travelling on lost a wheel, and I had to walk the rest of the way,” I say.

“You were also supposed to arrive with a group of four others. Where are they?” he demands.

“I do not know, Captain. I separated from them back in Rozogh Del because they refused to travel with a woman. I thought they would have arrived by now since they had a head start.” I’m lucky that we had practiced answering this exact line of questioning many times back on The Rapture.

I jolt as the captain suddenly swings to whack the tall man across the face, causing his nose to trickle with blood. “Ekon, you fool! I told you this would happen when you arranged for them to be paid before they carried out their duty. They have hightailed off with our money, and we are four soldiers down.”

Ekon whimpers and pats at his large nose with a cloth. I notice that it is already stained with dried blood, and I wonder if this kind of assault is a regular occurrence. He suddenly glares at me accusingly. “Captain, she doesn’t look like a Rozogh citizen,” he spits.

The captain narrows his eyes and scrutinizes me. “No, she doesn’t. Where are you from?” he asks.

“I’m from a small village in the country of Marell. I travelled to Rozogh Del to sign up to fight in the war,” I say.

“She also looks somehow familiar,” Ekon interrupts.

I start to panic. Are these the Vardrans I faced batted after all? The commander's information could have been wrong.

The captain peers over me again. “You're right; she looks kind of like General Dawnburn. I think it’s her facial features. Are you related to him?” he asks me.

I shake my head. “I wouldn’t know. I have never met my father.”

“Captain, I don’t think General Dawnburn has any children,” Ekon adds.

Captain Nash snorts. “I know these generals. They have a woman at every port. He has probably fathered at least thirty children by now.”

Ekon and Bink laugh nervously.

“Why did you decide to join this war?” the captain questions.

I take a quiet breath and prepare to deliver my lines in a way that sounds natural. “I run a small farm with my mother, but for the third year in a row, the crops have failed due to the drought. The people in my village are starving while the Linarian scum have stockpiles of food. I believe in taking from them what is owed to us,” I say, lacing my words with venom. The story is true, as I merely recite what the Vardran woman told the Commander’s crew when she was interrogated.

The captain laughs. “I admire your determination to make them suffer.”

“Captain, surely you’re not going to trust her that easily.” Ekon whines.

“Of course not, you idiot. I trust no one in this war, not even you. But we paid for her service, and I’ll make sure we get our money’s worth out of her,” Captain Nash growls.

Ekon scowls at me.

“What will you have me do, Captain?” I ask.

The captain’s lips curl as he leans his face down at me. “Go to the galley and make our dinner. You’re our new ship skivvy.”