One fine evening, Snapper, Minnow, and Minnow’s two-year-old daughter went to the market for groceries. The latter’s recent growth spurt had rendered most of her clothes a size too small, and Minnow was adamant that the little girl not wear hand-me-downs from two older brothers.

Snapper held a vegetable basket in one arm, and his third favorite fishing hat perched atop his head. He dearly missed the previous two hats; a new hat always had scratchy bits of straw that poked his scalp whenever he twitched.

Minnow started out by holding her daughter in her arms, but the child soon grew tired of being carried through the excitement of a busy marketplace. Now, she ran freely, laughing in delight at the assorted trinkets and tools for sale at each shop front. Minnow followed in her footsteps, sending a sharp glare at anyone who didn’t watch their step around the little girl.

Snapper veered off to examine a nearby vegetable stall. The bright orange carrots were a rarity in these parts, and Minnow would surely be delighted if he managed to secure a good price for them. However, the radishes also looked fresh and plump.

Decisions, decisions…

Across the street, Minnow’s daughter squeaked in delight at a shiny spot in the road. She picked up a small pebble.

“Look what I found!” She proudly presented the pebble to Minnow.

As Minnow leaned down for a closer look, her stone pendant slipped out from beneath the low-cut outer tunic and dangled in the air.

“You have one too,” the girl laughed, playfully poking at the red stone spiderwebbed with translucent streaks of glue.

Minnow chuckled and patted her daughter on the head.

“There, the necklace of the Sage Doctor!” a voice shouted.

Minnow looked up at the outburst. She stood, protectively sweeping her child up in both arms. The speaker, a masked fellow in the black uniform of the Liege’s minions, took that as an admission of guilt. He drew a sword, and citizens scattered like herring before a salmon.

“You there, stop right now!” the minion shouted, waving the sword as he approached Minnow.

Snapper heard the commotion from the vegetable stand. Dropping the grocery basket, he abandoned the radishes and rushed over, inserting himself between Minnow and the hostile sword-bearer.

“What do you want?” As Snapper spoke, he instinctively tilted up his third favorite sun hat to make eye contact with his target. His eyes widened as he recognized the man’s face: one of the prison guards from the Liege’s castle.

Unfortunately, the Liege’s minions recognized Snapper’s face, too.

“He’s the Sage Doctor in disguise,” another voice shouted from the side. “Take them alive!”

Minnow urgently tugged Snapper’s sleeve. When he turned, she pushed her daughter into Snapper’s grasp. The girl flung both arms around Snapper’s neck, squeaking in protest at the rough treatment.

“Split up. You get my baby to safety.” Minnow drew a foot-long fish knife from her belt. “The boys are still out fishing. I need to warn them.”

Snapper shifted the child to one arm, trying and failing to loosen her stranglehold around his neck. “See you at home.”

They dashed in opposite directions: Minnow toward the beach, where her sons would land after they finished gathering the day’s catch, and Snapper toward the town center. His chosen path would force a longer route to the cottage than Minnow’s route, but she was right: splitting up would give the Liege’s minions a more difficult target than if they fled side-by-side toward the coast.

Snapper’s hat caught the wind and flew off. He quickly glanced over his shoulder. Three pursuers. He could handle them. He only hoped that Minnow was fast enough to evade the other four.

Snapper ducked down a side street, turned a corner, and stepped sideways into a barber shop. The amazed owner peered at the two newcomers, taking in Snapper’s heavy breaths and the wide eyes of Minnow’s daughter. Snapper set the girl down, and she hid behind his leg.

“Snapper? Is that really you?” the barber wondered, stepping out from behind his desk. “Never thought I’d see the day when you voluntarily came for a haircut. And who’s this? Granddaughter? Great-granddaughter?”

Snapper shook his head. “No time. We’re under attack.”

The barber snatched a long pair of scissors from the nearest shelf. He drew the shop shades with one hand, brandishing the scissors like a sword. When no intruders immediately burst into the shop, the barber waved Snapper toward a small supply closet behind the desk.

Inside, the closet was dark and musty. A thin stripe of light entered underneath the wooden door, highlighting two sets of shoes. Minnow’s daughter was sensible enough to remain quiet as they hid, and she clung to Snapper’s hand with all of her strength.

Muffled footsteps and shouts rushed past the shop, but the Liege’s minions remained outside. A few minutes after the streets returned to their usual peace, the barber opened the closet door.

“Those men had weapons. Nasty business. Were they outlaws?” The barber wrung his hands, pacing back and forth across the shop. “I hope you aren’t in trouble.”

Snapper grimaced as he lifted Minnow’s daughter again. “I hope so, too.”

Now freed of pursuit, Snapper and his great grand-niece made their way home without trouble.

Seagulls squawked and took flight as Snapper approached the cottage. Even from a distance, he knew that Minnow had not arrived home yet. The birds had learned to stay far from the Fisher property when inhabited, since Minnow’s family had developed a taste for sea-bird as well as proper seafood.

Snapper paused in the middle of the road, setting the child on her feet as he considered the options. Although Snapper could simply wait for Minnow to return with the boys, he despised the idea of sitting around while four—or perhaps seven—of the Liege’s minions chased after Minnow. He paced back and forth across the road, struggling to form a sensible plan.

An idea struck. Snapper might not be able to help Minnow find the boys or outrun their pursuit, but he could ensure that Minnow and her sons made it home safely. The two boys would most likely return to shore at one of the northern docks, and the shortest path from the docks to the cottage was surrounded by dense underbrush—perfect for an ambush.

All Snapper needed was a bit of help.

“Look what I found!” a voice chirped. The little girl held up a shiny beetle.

Snapper smiled fondly, amending his previous plan. He needed a bit of help and a babysitter. Fortunately, he knew just where to find both.

A quarter mile north of Minnow’s cottage, there lived a seaweed farmer by the name of Kelp, along with his wife Coral and their four full-grown sons. Of relevance to Snapper’s plan, all four of the sons were known throughout the village for their skill at catching large deep-sea fish.

Snapper pounded on the door, hoping fervently that all were home and available. When Kelp answered, Snapper put on his most desperate expression.

“Minnow is in trouble. We need your help.”

Kelp took one look at the child in Snapper’s arms and invited him in. Kelp’s wife, Coral, came out from a back room to meet Snapper.

After hearing Snapper’s tale, Coral grabbed a knife from atop the whetstone.

“No outlaw gangsters are going to harm anyone in my village,” Coral swore. She called her sons immediately. “You lads help Snapper find Minnow. Kelp and I will look after the child.”

Kelp’s four sons armed themselves with wooden clubs and fishnets. Together, Snapper and the four sons left to set up an ambush.

Snapper and Kelp’s sons buried fishnets along the sandy path between the beach and the house. Once the trap was set, Kelp’s sons and Snapper crouched in the underbrush to wait. Each one held a rope tied to the corner of a fishnet.

Soon enough, the sound of footsteps approached from the northern direction, just as Snapper had anticipated.

Two boys dashed around the bend, glancing over their shoulders in fear. The taller one, Hal, was slightly in the lead by virtue of his longer legs, but he held Marlin’s elbow in one hand, helping his younger brother run more quickly.

Minnow appeared on the path as well, running without pause despite the unhealthy pallor of her face. Red stains soaked the right shoulder of her tunic, and her arm hung limply at her side.

Moments later, black-cloaked figures emerged in close pursuit. Snapper counted seven in all, with the foremost one only a few paces behind Minnow.

“Faster, faster,” Snapper muttered under his breath.

As soon as Minnow stumbled past the buried ropes, Snapper and Kelp’s sons pulled the fishnets taut. The Liege’s followers tripped over the sudden grid of trip hazards across the pathway, yelping in surprise as the nets tangled around their ankles. Steel flashed as one minion drew a sword to cut himself free. The others flailed about, simultaneously trying to avoid wild sword slashes and draw their own cutting implements.

In the confusion, Kelp’s sons pounced.

Wrestling people in nets turned out to be a fair bit easier than wrestling large fish with razor-sharp fins. With liberal use of wooden clubs, Kelp’s sons efficiently disarmed the trapped minions. Multiple steel blades were tossed away from the tangle. Once all of the knives and swords lay safely in the bushes, Kelp’s sons began to bind the minions’ flailing limbs with lengths of tough rope.

Snapper glanced into the distance, where Minnow and her two sons had almost reached Kelp’s house. He sighed in relief. Once they arrived at the house, Kelp could attend to Minnow’s wound.

A faint whistle reached Snapper’s ears, and his neck twinged. He automatically reached up to swat the fly, but his fingers hit something thin and cold. A black-tipped metal needle fell into his hand. Although the impact had drawn a drop of blood, the cut was not large enough to cause serious harm. Snapper turned around with wide eyes.

Metal glinted between the fingers of one bound minion. As Snapper watched, the minion lifted both hands in front of his mouth as though to shoot a blowdart. However, no dart could travel far enough in Minnow’s direction to actually hit its target—not unless the dart shooter were a Caster.

Snapper rooted through the underbrush for a suitable weapon. As he searched, the leaves seemed to twist and spin around his feet. He staggered, bracing one arm against a nearby tree.

Two silver streaks flashed out of the wind Caster’s cupped hands, vanishing in Minnow’s direction.

Another of the Liege’s minions kicked the wind Caster. “You idiot, the Liege needs them alive.”

Snapper’s fingers closed around a heavy log. He lunged forward and coshed the wind Caster over the head with the log. A moment later, Minnow screamed.

“Marlin!” Minnow wailed, running to her younger son’s side. The boy had collapsed mere steps away from the Kelp household.

As Snapper looped another rope around the unconscious wind Caster’s arms, Minnow screamed again.

“Hal!”

Both boys now lay sprawled on the ground. Minnow crawled between them, checking first Marlin, then Hal. Neither one responded to increasingly frantic cries.

The oldest of Kelp’s sons came up to Snapper.

“What should we do with them?” he asked, waving at the other bound Liege’s minions. After the wind Caster’s attack, Kelp’s sons had rendered the other prisoners unconscious as well.

Furious, Snapper swept one arm in a seaward direction—or at least, what he thought was a seaward direction. Strangely, the slight downward slope toward the beach now seemed to be a sharp upward incline. Snapper swayed in place as gravity pulled him in multiple directions.

“Toss them to the sharks,” Snapper shouted.

He didn’t wait to see if the neighbors would actually follow that suggestion. Instead, he rushed to help Minnow and her sons. As he ran, dizziness swept over him, and the sky switched places with the ground. He swayed back and forth across the trail, no doubt looking like a drunkard as he struggled to retain his balance, but he pushed forward through strength of will.

Minnow bled freely from a large gash across her right arm and shoulder, but at least she still remained upright under her own power. Her two sons were flat on the ground, evidently unconscious due to the wind Caster’s attack. Minnow sat besides her younger son, stroking Marlin’s dark hair.

“How are they?” Snapper asked, dropping to his knees by the side of Hal. The world spun around him from the change in speed, and he paused for a moment to press hands to his temples.

Minnow shook her head, and the wetness upon her cheeks glistened from the motion.

“Must be poison. Look at this.” Minnow rolled Marlin to one side, brushing his chin-length hair away from his neck. A thin trickle of blood trailed from a beetle-sized puncture wound beneath the ear. Around the wound, deep blue marks spiderwebbed along Marlin’s jaw and down his neck. Minnow held up two toothpick-sized metal needles with black tips. “Darts. Two shots. Two hits.”

Three shots, Snapper recalled as the ground seemed to tilt at strange angles beneath him. He tipped to the side, clutching at the grass underfoot to keep from sliding off the edge of the world.

Grass brushed against Snapper’s cheek, and he recoiled. When had he ended up on the ground?

From his prone position, Snapper saw another puncture wound and spider-web pattern on the side of Hal’s neck. Snapper remembered the pinprick sensation on his own skin—could it be the same? No, impossible; he could still move, even if spots were dancing in front of his eyes. His dart must have had a different poison.

“We need to get them inside. Can you walk?”

Minnow grimaced. “If I must.”

Snapper interpreted that as a no. Snapper didn’t trust himself to walk in a straight line either, especially not if he were carrying another person. He raised his voice and called out to the neighbors.

“We need some help over here!”

Kelp emerged from the house, a wickedly sharp harpoon in one hand. When he saw Snapper curled up on the ground and Minnow hovering over the two boys, his murderous scowl turned to shock. He tossed the harpoon aside and called for Coral.

Together, Kelp and Coral carried Minnow’s sons inside the house. Snapper staggered after them, spending nearly as much time crawling on all fours as walking on two feet. Minnow also limped into the house by her own strength, similarly refusing assistance.

“I’ll live. Help the boys,” Minnow insisted, face drawn with pain. However, she didn’t argue when Coral set a bowl of hot water and several cloth bandages before her. When her daughter emerged from a back room, relief extinguished Minnow’s desperate strength. She sank to the floor, embracing the young girl with her good arm.

Snapper braced himself against the doorframe and tried to focus. The world couldn’t be spinning, no matter what his eyes insisted. If nobody else had balance problems, then the issue must be in his own head.

As Snapper concentrated, the dizziness began to fade. A soft mantra intruded upon his concentration, and he glanced into the houses.

“You’re safe. You’re safe,” Minnow whispered to her daughter over and over, tears sliding down her cheeks. “At least you’re safe, my little Catfish.”

Once Snapper regained his balance, he pushed away from the doorframe and entered to check on his family. Coral had set up a spare tarp as a guest bed, and the two sons laid on the tarp with warm blankets over each.

As a gardener and longtime wife of a seaweed farmer, Coral specialized in coastal plant identification. She could recite the name of every shrub or sea grass that grew in these parts, and the whole village praised her deep knowledge of herbal medicines. She was the closest that the village had to a real doctor. However, when Snapper showed her the black-tipped darts and the spreading marks of poison on Hal and Marvin, uncertainty crossed her face.

“The rash around the wounds is peculiar. Might be snake venom,” Coral supposed, and she sent Kelp to the market with a list of herbs.

Coral went out to gather other ingredients needed for the antidote, leaving Snapper and Minnow’s family alone in the house.

Without the antidote, Snapper could not help Hal and Marlin much. He tucked the blankets more snugly around their still forms and folded two more blankets to make pillows, hoping that the extra comfort might speed their recovery. When he had done all that he could for the boys, he checked on Minnow.

She held a fistful of bandages, applying pressure to the deep gash in her opposite shoulder. However, with only one useful arm, she hadn’t fully stemmed the blood flow. The entire right side of her grey tunic was now stained a blotchy crimson, and more liquid pooled on the floor below. Minnow’s face was pale, and her eyelids drooped with exhaustion as she struggled to wrap the bandages around the damaged shoulder.

From a nearby corner, Minnow’s daughter watched her mother with silent horror etched on her face. Snapper could sympathize. In the short time when he’d been away, tending to the boys, Minnow’s condition had deteriorated from panicked energy to the verge of consciousness.

Bandages in hand, Snapper crouched next to Minnow and hesitated. Where ought he to begin? He had treated injuries before—splinters or small cuts were inevitable over a lifetime of fishing—but never one as grievous as Minnow’s.

Well, a big cut was just a larger version of a small one. Following that logic, it should only need more bandages. Snapper stepped in to help, gently guiding Minnow’s hand away from the wound to inspect the damage.

The gash was almost as long as Snapper’s hand, though fortunately narrower. It trailed from the edge of Minnow’s collarbone to the top of her arm. In places, it seemed almost an inch deep. The sides of the gash looked cleanly cut. One of the Liege’s minions must have struck a lucky hit with a sword or other bladed weapon.

Snapper placed a wad of clean bandages over the gash, wrapping a long strip of cloth over the shoulder and bandages to keep the wound from chafing. Minnow winced when he tied a tight knot, but she did not protest.

“How are my boys?” she asked weakly.

Snapper relayed Coral’s theory about the poison, as well as her current search for an antidote.

Kelp and Coral soon returned from their respective tasks, and Coral administered the medicine.

“The antidote should take effect in a few hours,” Coral assured them.

Kelp’s sons arrived a few minutes later. They had handed the Liege’s minions over to the village militia for sentencing, and the minions would likely face a long stay in the local prisons.

Using two long poles and a few spare blankets, Kelp’s sons helped Snapper build a stretcher. They moved Minnow and the boys back to the cottage, since Snapper suspected that resting in familiar beds would be more comfortable than borrowing a tarp on the neighbors’ floor.

Snapper returned one last time to fetch Minnow’s daughter from the neighbors. However, Coral had another idea.

“Taking care of Minnow and her boys will already give you a great burden without another child underfoot,” Coral said. “Why not leave Catfish with us? We’ll keep her out of trouble while you help your family. When Minnow recovers enough to look after Catfish again, we’ll bring her over right away.”

Seeing the sense in this proposal, Snapper gratefully agreed. He left Kelp’s house empty-handed, and Minnow’s daughter stayed with the neighbors for the time being.

A day and a night passed, but Hal and Marlin’s condition only worsened. Growing more and more concerned as time passed without either one waking, Snapper called Coral over to check on them again.

The web of black lines around the dart wounds had spread overnight, and the skin around each puncture had taken on a sickly greenish tinge near each dark thread. Coral carefully probed the area around Marlin’s neck, but yellow pus began to leak out of the puncture.

“Must not be a snake,” Coral mused, sounding perturbed as she placed new bandages over the dart wound. “Perhaps a plant-based poison.”

She hurried off, and soon she returned with another formula.

None of Coral’s medicines helped the boys.

Marlin woke after Coral applied one poultice, and Minnow joyously proclaimed Coral their savior. If she had the strength to leave her own bed, Minnow would have rushed over to her son’s side. However, she could only watch in relief as her son slowly turned his head.

Snapper helped prop him up on a pile of blankets, while Coral hastily applied the same formula to the other boy. From this approximate sitting position, Marlin saw his injured mother and unconscious older brother.

“What... what happened?” Marlin croaked.

“Some crooks attacked us by the beach,” Minnow said. “One of them shot you with a dart, but don’t worry. We escaped, and you’re getting better now. When all of this is over, we can go gather mussels by the... Marlin? Marlin?”

Minnow reached out as her son tipped over, but she was too far away. Marlin’s eyes slid shut again, and he fell back onto the sheets.

Despite Coral’s efforts, neither Marlin nor Hal woke again that day. Coral left in the late afternoon, promising to come back with more medicines, but Snapper heard the helplessness in her voice. Coral did not know how to help the boys either.

The wound on Minnow’s arm stopped bleeding, but it still pained her to move. Blood loss had turned her sun-tanned face white, and she could not muster the energy to leave her bed. Her wounded arm had also gone numb since the injury, while her strength seemed to wane with each passing hour.

Snapper handled the household chores, bringing food and water to Minnow every few hours. He could only hope that time would restore his family to health.

A real doctor was exactly what Minnow and the boys needed, yet the only one within a hundred miles had fled weeks ago. If Snapper could save his family by questing for the Sage Doctor again, he would—but he hadn’t a clue where to begin. Besides, now was no time to run off chasing legends—not with his family in mortal peril.