Opaska stood as the central hub of the Caltanissa Archipelago, though it sat on an eroding piece of rock far to the east of the central isles. Every time Elf saw it, it had shifted further into the sea, the buildings a little more crooked, the stones rotting away. A wooden, decaying mess of new painted over old that aged within the hour; a city trying to be something it wasn’t, as though a simple sweep could brush away the rot in the ground, as though hand-painted signs in shop windows would block the seedy, bloodstained alleys, as though being the only the only township for people to visit could distract from the millions hanging on by their last penny. It reminded Elf too much of what his soul was beginning to look like; faded at the edges, cracking and peeling, with only a strong wave needed to wash it away from existence. He hated it.

Ossory pulled into the port well away from where they found trouble the night before. The knot holding her to the dock was loose and dangerously fragile, and Elf considered stopping to barter for more, but decided against it.

Aitan led the way, silent and sure, though cradling his bandaged arm and walking a little slower than usual, while Elf and Mihri followed. He led them up the uneven brick streets, the clay cracking under their feet and giving way to dirt below. They passed pastel covered cafes and wooden buildings offering tours and entrepreneurial opportunities - as far as Elf could tell anyway. The occasional motorcar sat parked outside grocers and bookshops, showing off a touch of wealth that no-one could grasp. The smell of fish clung to the air as outdoor vendors spread their weekly catches over tables, cloying next to the shawl wearing women rubbing the rust from their fences. The streets weren’t empty, but the life in them was muted. Much like Elf and his companions, nobody wanted to be outwardly noticed. Necks sat bent and shoulders were hunched, and nobody so much as glanced at them as they pushed further into the city.

Aitan stopped at a house that stood no different from any other on the narrow road, a stone thing, straight and square and surrounded by an iron fence that could disintegrate at a single touch. Though the roses along the front were pruned, weeds strangled the path beyond the front gate, which creaked as Aitan forced it open. He held it for Mihri to step through, then gave a pointed look at Elf before stepping up to the front door and knocking.

An older woman opened the door a crack, peering out wearily. Her hair was wrapped in multiple rollers, pinning grey hair to the top of her head, and she wore a simple button shirt and pinafore under a loose cardigan, which she pulled tight across her chest.

‘Aitan,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think you would… what are you doing here?’

‘Something’s come up,’ Aitan said. ‘Can we talk?’

The woman inched the door closed a little. ‘Is this about my husband?’

‘A little.’

She was still for a long time, not staring at the big man in front of her, but somewhere distant, a faraway island only she could see. She then sighed and pulled the door open, pausing when she saw Elf and Mihri.

‘Excuse me,’ Aitan said. ‘These are my companions, the Lady Munnamurrah and Captain O Se.’ He turned to them. ‘This is Majeta Fotez.’

Elf tipped an imaginary hat. ‘Ma’am.’

She gave a cautious nod, then opened the door and welcomed each of them into her house. It was warm from the strong smelling coonara burning in the living room. A radio buzzed in a distant room, a voice broken by static listing off the weather in that strange exaggerated way radio presenters did. The furniture was soft and round, stuffy to the point where Elf was sure he would send up a plume of dust if he sank into one of the chairs. Sitting on a moth-eaten rug in the middle of the floor, leaning over the table and working furiously at scrap paper with crayons, was a small, dark-haired child.

Aitan sat down on one of the chairs across from the little boy, and when he didn’t sink into it and disappear completely, Elf sat down next to him while Mihri took the other side. Majeta disappeared through an entrance-way in the back of the room, and Elf took the chance to turn to Mihri.

‘Is this how your half live?’ he asked her.

Mihri narrowed her eyes. ‘Not exactly.’

‘It’s fancy.’

‘If you say so.’

Elf could picture Mihri in a place fancier than this; maybe a palace or a great manor on a hill with more rooms than there were normal humans in the archipelago. This house was better than what he had as a kid - it had carpeted floors and heating that could combat the ocean chill - and he wondered how piracy could pay better than robbing sunken ships.

Majeta reappeared, carrying a tray of steaming mugs. Aitan leapt up to help her, setting it down on the table next to the boy and his drawings. The kid reached for one with a floral pattern, but Majeta batted his hand away.

‘He is still alive?’ she asked. ‘You said you wouldn’t kill him.’

‘He’s alive,’ Aitan said. Elf wondered if they were talking about the lead pirate, or one of the ones he shot in their attempt to get away. He bit down on his tongue. ‘But I believe he’s in trouble.’

Majeta’s hands shook as she took one of the mugs from the tray, and she shipped it tentatively. Mihri copied the action with a second mug, her movements surer, and it seemed to relax the woman.

‘I knew he was in trouble the minute you came knocking the first time,’ Majeta said. ‘All this talk about him dealing in magic and monsters… he promised me he only had one more job. What happened to his treasure?’

‘He lost it in a card game,’ Elf mumbled. Mihri shot him a look behind Aitan’s back, but he ignored it.

Majeta blew out a breath, the steam around her mug shooting sideways. ‘Stupid fool. Stupid man. I would have preferred it if he had run away with a selkie woman before he gave me all these empty promises.’

‘Actually, Aitan said. ‘It might have been the best thing for him to get rid of that chest. There’s a chance it’s very dangerous.’

‘Is that why you came here? To see what I knew about his winning prize of the week?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Well, forget about it,’ she snapped. ‘I never took an interest in his fantasies. I’d care if he came home once in a while to look after his kid. Or if he sent home these so called winnings once in a while so I didn’t work myself to the bone.’

‘I didn’t mean to offend you,’ Aitan said. He thumbed at the gold chain he wore around his neck absently. ‘I only wanted to see if he had told you where he found it, or how long ago.’

‘Why?’ Majeta asked.

‘Like I said, it’s very dangerous.’

Majeta sighed again. ‘I should have walked away the day he showed up with a kid I didn’t give him.’

Elf turned his attention to the little boy, who was focused on his drawing, his fist locked tight around the crayon as though he was afraid someone would snatch it away. Elf shifted to get a better look at the drawing, and the boy shifted, uncomfortable. The picture was crude, mostly scribbles, but Elf could make out the unmistakable cross of a fish tail. The boy squirmed under his gaze.

‘He doesn’t like people watching him draw,’ Majeta said.

‘It’s a very good drawing,’ Elf lied. He never understood why lying to kids like this was necessary, but he had never understood children in the first place. ‘Is it a fish?’

‘A mermaid,’ the boy said simply.

Elf’s stomach seized, and he twisted further to see what might have been a smiley face in a mess of brown scribbles. ‘Where did you learn about mermaids?’ he asked.

‘Dad’s book,’ the boy said.

‘Is something the matter?’ Majeta’s voice took on a dangerous edge.

Elf pushed himself back onto the couch and held up his hands. ‘Nothing. I was just looking.’

‘Your husband is teaching his son about mermaids?’ Aitan quizzed.

Majeta threw an angry look at Elf, who flinched under her gaze. She then sighed and ruffled the boy’s hair. ‘He sent a gift to the kid, about a week ago. A book on those… things. I tried to keep it away from him, but he gets into everything.’

‘How long ago was this?’ Mihri asked.

Majeta shook her head. ‘I want all of you out of my house,’ she said.

Aitan held up his hands. ‘We only want to help.’

‘I’m not asking for your help,’ Majeta snapped. ‘If you want to help, we need money, or food, and the kid needs clothes. Don’t you show up here and tell me that bringing that useless sod back will fix this, because it won’t. He’s the one who took off.’

‘I’m sorry we bothered you.’ Mihri bowed her head, then made to get to her feet, but Aitan stopped her. He reached over and closed his hands around Majeta’s smaller, shaking hands, locking them against the mug she still held.

‘He sent you something too, didn’t he?’ Aitan asked.

Majeta didn’t meet his eye.

‘Your husband is involved with magic,’ Aitan said. ‘If he could come home, it would only rub off on both of you. We can’t spare any money, but we can bring home an extra set of hands. We can end this. What did he send you? There might be a clue in there. Something that can help him.’

‘There wasn’t,’ Majeta mumbled.

‘Please,’ Aitan said.

‘You deaf?’ she snapped. ‘There wasn’t. Only that… that book. You want it? Take it. It’s not welcome here. Now get out of my house.’

Aitan nodded and let go of her hands, getting to his feet. ‘I told you the first time we met that I would bring him home.’

‘You didn’t keep that promise,’ Majeta said. ‘Don’t you have your own woman to disappoint?’

Aitan’s hand jumped to the chain around his neck, but he didn’t say anything.

‘Don’t put me in the place of your sweetheart as someone to coo,’ Majeta said. ‘I’m sick of you acting like your word means anything at this point.’

Elf flinched at the familiar punch of the words. Was that why Mihri and the others were so frustrated with him, assuming at this point that he wouldn’t succeed at all? He wouldn’t blame them if they found his words empty or his promises meaningless, but he hadn’t stopped yet, and he wasn’t going to give up now.

‘I’ll always be in the archipelago,’ Aitan said. ‘You can reach out if you need me. For anything.’

‘Just go,’ Majeta whispered.

Aitan gave a single nod, then with a glance at Elf and Mihri, he made for the door. Elf glanced back as the other two left, wondering if he should say something, or if this was much too personal for commentary. When he made to turn away though, she spoke.

‘He gave me a name,’ she said. ‘He said it was the only one that could truly free him.’

‘A name?’ Elf echoed.

Majeta met his gaze. ‘Anwen.’

***

‘Why are you the one holding the book?’ Mihri asked. ‘You can’t read.’

‘No, but I can look at the pictures,’ Elf said. They made their way back down the hill towards the dock, Elf flicking through the battered paperback Majeta had thrown out the door after them. The pictures were mostly sketches or paintings of mermaids, guesses as to what they looked like or simple flashes of tails and fins in the water, shadows in waves hovering around ships. Some of the drawings were crudely coloured with crayon, the scratches nowhere close to within the lines of the ink. He barely glanced at the first page before he noted that no, he still couldn’t read, but he could confirm it was a book about mermaids.

‘I’m sorry that was a waste of time,’ Aitan said.

‘It wasn’t,’ Mihri said. She snatched the book from Elf’s hands and flicked through it. ‘This looks extensive, and we might need it if we’re travelling with one.’

‘We might have a name too,’ Elf said.

‘Might,’ Mihri pressed.

‘Names have power to these creatures,’ Elf said. ‘It’s a sign of ownership or something.’

Mihri pulled a face. ‘I don’t like that.’

‘Never said I did,’ Elf said.

Mihri continued to flick through the book, then paused on a page near the end. She stopped walking, and pulled Elf to a stop with her. She then twisted the book around and showed him the page. Spread across both pages was a crude sketch of the same mermaid on Ossory. Nothing more than a line-work, Elf recognised the fanning ribbons through her waist and flittering through her tail, though her hair was sharp and spiked and sticking out behind her head, flashing webbed ears.

‘She’s in a book,’ Elf commented.

‘Either she’s known in academic circles, or she’s something from a legend,’ Mihri said.

‘What does it say/’ Elf asked.

Mihri scanned the words next to the sketch, and Elf bit his lip, growing impatient by the small action. Something about books always made him impatient, though he believed it was because the act of reading one seemed so slow.

‘Not much,’ Mihri said. ‘It’s mostly discussing how a lot of stories are the same throughout many points in maritime history.’

‘I could have told you that,’ Elf said. He sighed and rushed to catch up with Aitan, who had stopped on a rise on the hill. The ocean spread out below, stretching over the horizon and dotted with small boats moving in and out of port. Elf spotted Ossory in the dock, half the size of the ships around her but bobbing happily in the water. He could see the damage from the cannons even here, and it pulled at his heart a little.

The gangplank sat down against the pier as they approached, Ossory still welcoming them with open arms, despite the beating she’d received. He swung his arm out to let Mihri up first, and she threw him a look of contempt as she stepped onto the ageing wood. Elf ignored her as he followed. He had learned the first few times that it was easier to catch her when he was directly behind her, and a wet Mihri was a pain in his ass to deal with. She had gotten better at not falling off the walkway, though she still wobbled a little. When she stopped on the deck, she stumbled back slightly and almost sent Elf over instead, then he saw what she had and stumbled back as well.

The mermaid sat by the taffrail at the bow of the ship, her human legs dangling over the edge. In the sunlight, and the reflecting white of the rings, her skin was more blue than it was brown, reminding Elf of corral rocks in a shallow pool. She wore a long, loose dress that was too big around the shoulders, and her expression was focused on the ring in the sky. Jian sat by the main mast in his usual seat, watching her. When he saw Elf and the others, he leapt to his feet and his face flushed red.

‘Sorry, cap’n,’ he said. ‘She got right past me and I couldn’t stop her, and she isn’t trying to get off the ship so I thought that maybe —‘

‘It’s alright,’ Elf said.

‘She’s been just sitting there, and she’s not hurting anyone or doing anything, honest. If she had escaped —‘

‘Jian, stop,’ Elf ordered. ‘Are you alright?’

Jian nodded frantically. ‘I’m alright, cap’n.’

‘Good man,’ Elf said.

Jian breathed a sigh of relief, then dropped into his seat and rubbed at his injured leg. Elf motioned for Aitan to move downstairs to start the engines up. He then considered the mermaid, who had turned to watch him again. As he approached, she didn’t move.

‘You’re really not going to run?’ Elf asked.

The mermaid turned to stare at him.

‘Why?’

‘The Chained One has spies who are waiting for me,’ she said.

Her voice surprised him. Whispery and flowing like silk, she had an accent he couldn’t place. It reminded him of something old and powerful, the kind of voice used to ordering royal decrees thousands of years ago.

He caught himself before he could comment on it, and instead asked, ‘are they here now?’

She continued to stare at him. ‘Go and get your guns, Captain.’

Instinctively, he turned to where Ossory was anchored to the shore, in time to see a heavy metal lock jam the rope in place. The officer handling it wore the navy green uniform of the Shiyze army, the familiar long coat and well pressed trousers, with a simple bowled cap on his head. Elf almost called out to say the rope was broken, but he also wanted to know what was going on and the rope was an advantage.

He rushed for the cabin at the other end of the deck and pulled his six shooters from their hold. His flintlock needed to be cleaned from the rainwater last night, but he had nine bullets left and he wasn’t about to shoot any army officer anyway. Even if this wasn’t Shizye, or anywhere near the war.

‘Oi, mate!’ Elf leaned over the taffrail, hooking his guns to his hip. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I can answer that.’ Another officer let himself up the gangplank and onto the deck of the ship. He couldn’t have been older than Elf, smooth shaven and full built, with short cropped dark hair. Mihri reached for the cutlass under her coat, but Elf held up his hand, making her pause.

‘I didn’t give you permission to be here,’ Elf said.

The officer acted as though Elf hadn’t said anything, instead stepped over to him and held out his hand. ‘Sergeant Teo Duarte,’ he said. ‘With the Shiyze army.’

Elf considered the outstretched hand, but didn’t take it. ‘Captain O Se,’ he returned. ‘Now go away.’

The officer reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded paper, holding it up. ‘We have a warrant to search the ship for stolen contraband.’

Elf snatched the paper away and scanned it. He then shoved it at Mihri, who scanned it over. She frowned. ‘You can’t prove we were here last night. We only reached this port a couple of hours ago.’

Duarte ignored her. He nodded to the pistols at Elf’s hip. ‘Do you have a license for those?’

Elf snorted. ‘You’re in Opaska. Everyone carries.’

Duarte stepped forward, squaring Elf up. Elf noticed too more in green coats let themselves on the boat, neither of them hesitating as they made their way to the cabin and down the stairs. He nodded at Jian, who rubbed at his leg, then followed.

‘You got papers, Captain?’ Duarte asked.

‘What papers?’ Elf crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Migration, boat license, fishing license, crossage papers, exemption from the draft, employment?’

Duarte raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re a fishing vessel?’

‘No, we’re an aeroplane,’ Elf said. ‘One of them fancy ones that shoots.’

‘I don’t appreciate your attitude,’ Duarte said.

‘I don’t appreciate you standing on my ship.’

Behind Elf, the chimneys began to cough up black smoke, shaking the deck from exertion. Duarte glanced up to note it, then turned back to Elf. ‘You’re not cleared to leave until we’ve searched this vessel.’

‘Search it for what?’ Elf demanded. ‘What exactly did I steal?’

Duarte puffed out his chest. ‘Under the Authority of the Shiyze Army Act of Year 941, any and all magical artifacts must be registered under the authority of the —‘

‘Spare the wanker chat,’ Elf growled.

‘We’ve been informed about a suspicious chest.’

Elf’s gut twisted, and his hands floated towards his pistol. Behind him, the mermaid had perked up, and Elf could feel her stare in his peripherals. Duarte noticed his flinch, and turned, noticing her.

‘Strange company,’ he commented.

‘She’s not an artefact,’ Elf said. ‘No rule says I can’t give a fish a lift.’

Duarte opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, a commotion from the staircase made them both turn. The two other officers marched back onto the deck, one of them with the chest slung over his shoulder. Jian struggled after them, talking frantically, but he fell silent when he met Elf’s gaze. Elf sighed. He was not about to bring more trouble to this ship by shooting members of the Shiyze Army, but his fingers itched at the thought of doing it anyway.

‘Oh, that chest,’ Elf said, trying to sound nonchalant. ‘Yeah, take it. It’s empty.’

The officer with the chest paused, and Duarte raised his eyebrows again. ‘What do you mean, it’s empty?’

Elf shrugged. ‘I mean there’s nothing in it.’

‘You opened it?’

‘Well, yeah,’ Elf said. ‘Not about to be given a chest and not check what’s inside it.’

Duarte stared at him for a moment, then twisted around to the mermaid. The creature in question was standing next to Elf, appearing silently without warning and making Elf jump.

‘Would you have a better understanding about the contents of that chest?’ he asked.

The mermaid only stared at him.

‘I’ll save you the time, mate,’ Elf said. ‘She’s not the chatty type.’

‘The chest was stolen from the Opaska Supernatural Storage Facility a few days ago,’ Duarte said. ‘The contents are supposed to be extremely dangerous. Do you know anything about that?’

The mermaid didn’t answer. Elf considered her, not as a strange creature of the deep, but as the threatened, feral creature that almost ripped Aitan’s arm off. If any of this was true, he really needed to know how much he was in over his head.

‘Word is that the underwater world has eyes for this box,’ Duarte said. ‘The Beast of the sea himself is threatened by it.’

Elf stared at him. Quotinir? Was there another great beast under there somewhere, or was Quotinir so terrifying that this idiot didn’t want to use the term “Chained One” for fear of insult. Then again, if the officer did insult shark-ass, Elf would be the one summoned to hear about it.

‘You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?’ Duarte asked. ‘None of us here can afford to invoke the wrath of the sea.’

‘I am not afraid of him,’ the mermaid hissed.

‘Take the chest,’ Elf snapped. ‘Go on, get. Off my ship.’

Duarte ignored him, staring at the mermaid. The mermaid stared back, tilting her head slightly as though she were inspecting him. The other officers took Elf’s orders more directly, moving towards the gangplank under the watchful eye of Mihri and Jian.

‘You want to appease the Chained One,’ the mermaid said.

‘We’re at peace if he stays chained,’ the officer said. ‘We won’t allow anything to change that.’

‘Peace is an interesting word to use,’ Elf muttered.

‘Human casualty in the war will double if the creatures of the ocean were to be released. The current state of the fight demands we keep the status quo.’ He shrugged. ‘Not my decision, just the one we are going with.’

The only name that could truly free him. What if Majeta hadn’t been talking about her shitty husband, but Quotinir himself? If the mermaid next to him was Anwen, did she have the power to free the great sharky monster? Or perhaps claiming her soul in the way that bastard could, would make those chains less metaphorical and more non-existent. Either way, he didn’t like this. He didn’t like that his fate was decided by all of this, and if he gave up that chest right now, he would lose his one bargaining chip.

His pistol was in his hand before he could blink, raised towards Duarte with the lock clicked into place. Duarte paled. Elf opened his mouth to say something, but the mermaid moved first, lunging forward and shoving him hard. He staggered back, half from her shove and half out of fear, and hit the taffrail. The officer without the chest recoiled, but Jian was faster, catching the man around the middle and throwing him off balance. The officer hit the edge of the gangplank and slipped, crashing into the water below. Mihri pulled her cutlass free and jabbed at the officer with the chest. He stumbled, and she jabbed again.

‘Jian!’ Elf called. ‘Let’s move!’

‘You are locked into the dock!’ Duarte snapped. He was still leaning against the taffrails, his face pale as he regarded the mermaid. Elf rolled his eyes and stormed over to him, pressing his own chest against the other man’s as he pulled the knot of rope free. Duarte’s eyes widened, and Elf grinned, feeling smug.

‘Word of advice, mate,’ he said. ‘We already work for the Chained One, and he does what he wants.’

Duarte’s eyes widened further, his breath harsh against Elf’s face. It had been too long since he had been this close to another man, so for his own amusement, he leaned over and gave the officer a kiss on the nose. He then jammed the butt of the pistol into his jaw and tossed Duarte over the edge of the ship. The man hit the water with a heavy splash, the spray hitting the side of the ship.

Elf turned to see Mihri still jabbing at the last officer, her unwillingness to draw blood becoming too obvious. Elf fired into the air to get his attention, and they both froze. Elf levelled the gun at the man’s face. ‘Off,’ he ordered.

The officer regarded Mihri, then Jian, then the gun Elf held, and ran for the edge of the deck, diving off the ship and into the water below. Mihri pulled at the rope to pull the gangplank back up, her muscles straining.

‘What was that all about?’ Jian asked.

‘Good question,’ Elf mumbled. He spun the trigger guard of his pistol, then shoved it back into his holster. He turned to the mermaid. ‘Spies?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ she said.

Elf sighed. ‘Let me see if I got this. You’re Anwen?’

She flinched. ‘Yes, I am Anwen.’

‘I don’t know what that means,’ Elf said. ‘But I’m ready for you to explain it.’

‘No.’

Elf stared at her. ‘No?’

‘I want to know what side of this fight you intend to stand on,’ she said.

Mihri motioned something behind her that Elf didn’t understand. He imagined it meant something along the lines of “don’t say something stupid.”

‘You’re talking about Quotinir,’ Elf said.

‘Bold of you to say his name and not fear his wrath,’ Anwen said.

‘Too late for that,’ Elf said.

‘I’m surprised you admit that so openly,’ she said.

‘How did you know?’ Jian asked, then bit his tongue as though he had been ordered to stay silent.

Anwen turned and regarded him. ‘I can smell him on all of you. I can see the binds around your souls. It’s not hard to put two and two together.’

‘You can do that?’ Mihri asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

Anwen nodded. ‘Perhaps, if we’re going to talk openly about circumstances, then we can make a deal.’

‘Deals don’t usually work out when we get involved with your kind,’ Elf said. Then added quickly, ‘no offence.’

‘None taken,’ Anwen said. ‘But hear my proposal at least. Do you have any navigational equipment? I can show you something.’

Elf turned to Mihri, and Anwen copied. Mihri’s face turned a beetroot red under the intense gaze that Elf had become to familiar with. ‘I… um… I have my mapmaking supplies?’

‘A map will do fine,’ Anwen said. ‘Shall we?’

***

Elf was sure Anwen had never seen a map before, not of the archipelago or of any other place in the world. With the map of the Caltanissa Archipelago spread out in front of all of them, she traced the lines with her fingers, moving between current lines and the borders of islands. Her wrist curled around the volcanic borders of Thundercape Bay and the inhospitable cloud that still covered the south. She placed her palm flat over the Drowned Tundra, then lifted her hand as though she expected the ancient land to reappear.

‘I can’t see it on this map,’ she said. ‘But there’s a shoal, a large one. This is my home, and this is where I request you take me, if you don’t plan on taking me to Quotinir.’

‘How do you know we won’t?’ Elf asked.

She considered the words. ‘I want to assume that you didn’t know how Quotinir’s magic works, since all you had to do was throw me in the ocean and let his water-based champions take me. He did give you a deadline, right?’

‘He did,’ Mihri mumbled.

‘And we’re moving away from his home,’ Anwen said. ‘I noticed it just now. The Ring in the sky is pointed forward. If we were moving towards the tundra, it would be facing side to side.’

‘We might be going around land?’ Elf offered.

‘What land?’ Anwen challenged. ‘The town we left is south faced.’

She glared at him, and Mihri stepped in.

‘You have to be blunt with him,’ Mihri said. ‘His star isn’t brightening any sky now or in the future.’

‘Clearly,’ Anwen mumbled.

‘I’ll have you know…’ Elf felt his argument die as the two women turned to him. He slumped. ‘Yeah, alright.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Anwen said. ‘My goal should be clear. I would like a lift home. If you help me do this, I will remove your curse.’

Silence fell around the table, and the others glanced at each other in a mix of confusion and hope, but Elf felt his hackles raise at the quiet - but very real - thought of being completely free. In that split second, he imagined going back to the lighthouse on Cullian Islet, running it on the off seasons and staying off the water for a while, being alone to put himself back together. He shook the thought away.

‘I’ve seen my soul,’ Elf said. ‘All of ours. They’re physical things that Quotinir owns. How do you plan on getting them back?’

‘Humans can’t see souls,’ Anwen said.

Elf stammered. ‘I… I thought it was a perk of the curse.’

Anwen shook her head. ‘Souls do not take physical form. What you see is a representation of the binds that hold you.’

‘And you can break them?’ Mihri asked.

Anwen nodded. ‘If I’m returned to my home, to the territory of my patron, I will have the power to return your souls as they were.’ She stared at Elf, her unnatural eyes burning into him. ‘You have my word.’

The statement sent a chill down Elf’s spine, and he exchanged a look with Mihri. Her face fell. ‘Can I have a word with you?’ she asked.

He nodded, glad to get away from the table, away from this idea that it would be this easy to be free after all this time. He pushed away from the table and into the hall, with Mihri close on his heels.

‘Was what she said about the ring facing the wrong way true?’ Elf asked.

Mihri nodded. ‘I didn’t notice, but it’s true. She knows her directions.’

‘Reminds me of someone,’ Elf muttered.

Mihri’s face darkened. ‘I’m not going to let some basic talk of space butter me up,’ Mihri said. ‘How much do you trust this?’

‘I don’t,’ Elf said. ‘Not really. But… when they give their word, it means something. Quotinir never gave me his word. He never lied, but he wouldn’t admit that he was going to refuse. He always dodged the subject.’

‘That’s a lot of assumption,’ Mihri said.

Elf ran his hands through his hair. ‘I’m not explaining it well. I’m saying she’s sincere, if anything. I want to trust it… but I don’t.’

‘And here I thought I would have to convince you to go along with it.’

Elf froze, his mind blanking. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I saw you hesitate,’ Mihri said. ‘But what other choice do we have? We already said it; we’re not sacrificing her.’

‘Alright, so it’s more than that,’ Elf admitted.

‘You want to be petty.’

‘Is it that obvious?’

‘You’re easy to read.’

Elf ran his hands through his hair again. This felt wrong, and risky, and it was crazy, magical bullshit that got him mixed up in it all in the first place. It had only been one ship in the tundra to pillage, and now it was only one escort mission. It was never that simple.

‘I want everyone to agree to this,’ Elf said. ‘Everyone. If we fail, I’m dead. I’ll stop existing and one of you will take the brunt of this instead.’

‘I know that,’ Mihri said. ‘Let’s ask them.’

Elf nodded, then turned and walked back into the room where the others were waiting. Anwen was watching him, as though she could hear the entire conversation through the door. Elf turned to Jian and Aitan. ‘What do you want to do?’ he asked.

‘I want to go home,’ Aitan said.

Elf flinched.

‘We ain’t going anywhere without a risk,’ Jian said. ‘And I’m sick of one job after another paying nothing. This one is it, one way or another.’

Aitan nodded. ‘Time to take a chance, Cap’n.’

‘That’s a yes from both of you?’ Elf asked.

‘Yes,’ they both chorused.

Elf sighed. He was outnumbered, and Mihri was right; he didn’t even know where to begin looking for other options. Looking down at the map, he considered where this shoal might be. Travelling through Old Pratea, where the volcano blasted toxic fumes into the air, blasting land into oblivion and fire. Or there was Bloodbay, the heart of territory human’s never came back from. Any attempts to snake around the north would take too long. He traced the borders of the archipelago with his gaze, the border they couldn’t cross. In comparison to the world, it was a small area, but it was too much land to cover in the few days they had left.

‘We need a better map,’ he said.