Caleb’s heart sank as he entered the sloop’s great cabin. The boys who’d shinnied down the ropes and led him inside ran over the windows. They cranked open the panes on the far left and right, then pointed outside.

“See, Captain?” one asked.

“Yeah, I see it.” Caleb let out another curse.

I saw the warm glow when I came in here the first time. How could I have missed it?

“What is it?” Tavia called down from the afterdeck. “What do you see?”

He took a step back outside and looked up at her. To his surprise, he had to fight to get the words out.

“We messed up. Bad. You recall I told you back at the harbor, about why we needed to pick a ship that didn’t have a lot of lights?”

“You said there was a better chance that no one would be at home. Because you don’t leave a flame unattended on board a flammable ship.”

“Yes, and the Spitfire still had two people on board. Which is why it was lit the same way as most of the vessels at dock. Remember how those ships were illuminated?”

She furrowed her golden brow. “Aside from the frigate? Most had single lanterns set at the bow and three at the stern.”

“That’s right.”

Finally, the unicorn got it. Her eyes went wide and she let out a whinny of alarm.

“We never snuffed out the lights on this ship! Delacroix’s been able to see our stern lanterns for miles!”

“Unfortunately, we had the perfect way to attract unwanted attention,” he agreed. “In fact–”

Caleb blinked. He’d used those words before. Then he inhaled sharply as his mind matched those words to a plan.

Wait a minute! That’s how I can salvage this!

“So let’s douse those lights out before the Stone Angel blows us to pieces!” Tavia urged. “What are you waiting for?”

He smiled. “The right moment, that’s what.”

A one-two set of booms! as Delacroix’s frigate fired on them again. The first shot fell short, while the other ripped a third, larger hole in the mainsail. Tavia looked at the tear apprehensively as a yard-long swath of sailcloth fluttered to the deck.

“That right moment had better be soon,” she warned. “Very soon.”

“Head down to the main deck,” he instructed her. “Find someone to snuff out our bow lantern. Then pass the word to everyone: I want complete silence from now on until we’re clear of the Stone Angel.”

To her credit, Tavia didn’t argue. She simply nodded and spoke quietly to the two remaining men on the afterdeck. Her hooves made a series of dull clops on the steps as she hurried down to inform the rest of the crew.

“Be ready for my order,” Caleb said to Donal. “We’re going to need a full hard turn to larboard very soon.”

“I’ll be ready,” he promised. “Just give the word.”

The youngsters who’d led him to the great cabin came up to him, speaking over each other in turn.

“What can we do?” “We want to do something!” “Tell us, Captain!”

“Okay, okay,” he said quickly. “We need to...um, what are your names?”

“I’m Aiden,” said the one on the left. Caleb recognized him as the lad who’d used the ship’s hatchet to good effect earlier that night.

“And I’m Ethan,” said the other one, who was a shade blonder and shorter. “How can my brother and I help?”

Caleb pointed back to the windows. “Two things. First, can you two reach the stern lanterns outside the windows? Second, can you see the taffrail above, so I can signal you from the afterdeck?”

The two went back to the windows. Aiden cranked open the middle window and stuck his head out for a moment before replying. Ethan did the same on the larboard side.

“We can! Do you want us to snuff the lantern lights?”

“Yes, but wait for my signal. I’ll wave to you from up above on the taffrail.”

Caleb dashed out of the cabin, then turned and made his way up to the very edge of the afterdeck. One side of the wooden taffrail had been shattered. Splinters lay scattered across the deck planks.

He leaned out over the stern. The hard wood of the undamaged section of rail pressed into his abdomen. Below, he spotted the gleam of the lanterns and the opened windowpanes.

Then he turned his attention directly aft.

The Stone Angel was a dark, angular silhouette in the roiling mist that swirled in the sloop’s wake. He felt the frigate’s malevolent presence like a physical pressure in his mind. Twin pinpricks of scarlet from the figurehead’s eyes peeped out of the darkness, making his skin crawl.

Sienna’s two remaining men watched as he stretched his arms out to the sides. They remained quiet, as Tavia had instructed. That was fine with Caleb, as far as he was concerned.

Lir and Danu help me, I hope this works. It has to work.

He called up the first of his two planned spells.

Move Fog

Then, for the very first time, he brought up his Individual-Specific Specialty.

Individual-Specific Specialty: XP Edge

Aloud, he whispered one word.

“Burn.”

The bleachy scent of ozone filled Caleb’s nose, tingling like an electrical spark. In the corner of his vision, a single section of his character sheet popped up. It was followed by a question.

Unspent XP: 980

WARNING: YOU ARE VERY CLOSE TO REACHING YOUR NEXT LEVEL. ARE YOU SURE WANT TO CONTINUE? YES / NO

He tapped YES.

The smell of ozone redoubled. He winced. His sinuses ached as if he were inhaling formaldehyde. The number of his unspent experience points blinked as it changed, second by second.

Unspent XP: 980...

Unspent XP: 977...

Unspent XP: 974...

Unspent XP: 971...

Unspent XP: 968...

The speed of the change sent a chill through him.

But there was no denying the results.

A veritable tsunami of fog rolled in between the two ships. The frigate’s silhouette dimmed. Soon, the mist hid the mainsail, hid the bow, hid everything but the twin demonic eyes of the figurehead.

Caleb placed the image of the swirling, dense fog into a separate picture window in his mind. He prepared himself for kicking off the next spell. As he did so, a brand new line popped up in his Quest Window.

New Bonus Level Mini-Quest:

Utilize two of your magic spells in conjunction with your Individual-Specific Specialty. XP Value of the next quest completed shall be increased by 25%.

He waved away the window and then called up the second of his two planned spells.

Dancing Lights

In his mind, he visualized the three stern lanterns mounted atop their little metal posts. He visualized their steady canary or dandelion yellow glow. When he had it fixed in his mind, he looked down over the taffrail.

A trio of hazy, flickering balls of light danced and bobbed about just outside of the great cabin’s windows. One threatened to fizzle out as it weaved and bounced against another of the luminescent orbs. Caleb blew out a breath.

Well, that’s why they’re called Dancing Lights. Looks like I’m going to have to boost this spell as well.

“All right,” he called down to Aiden and Ethan. “Douse the lanterns!”

He heard a faint Yezzir in answer. A few seconds later, the lanterns’ glow winked out. Once again, he whispered one word.

“Burn!”

This time, the boost to the scent of ozone made tears flow unbidden from his eyes. His Unspent XP listing ticked downward even faster now.

Unspent XP: 942...

Unspent XP: 931...

Unspent XP: 920...

Unspent XP: 909...

Unspent XP: 898...

The three balls of light settled down into fixed points. They held the exact same pattern as the stern lanterns. Their flickering morphed into a steady, iridescently golden glow. Caleb paused just long enough to wipe the sweat that had started beading at his brow.

One last thing. All I have to do is keep these lights from dancing.

He looked over his shoulder and called down to the helm.

“Donal, I want a hard turn to larboard. Right now.”

“Aye, Captain!” came the reply.

A few moments later, everyone on board the Spitfire felt the sloop heel to the left. Caleb grabbed onto the taffrail to steady himself as the deck shifted underfoot. The wooden surfaces of the ship made a gentle creak, while an ear-tickling ripple of cloth shifting with the wind came from the sails.

These sounds, so normal on a sailing ship as to be unremarkable, now set his teeth on edge.

Even as the ship continued in its turn, Caleb kept the three faux-lanterns burning and travelling along the Spitfire’s old course. The trio of lights slipped further and further to steerboard, gleaming like beacons through the mist.

He stole a glance at the screen that showed the trio of green, blue, and yellow horizontal bars. Sweat broke out anew on his forehead as he looked at the yellow bar. Scarcely a fifth of it remained. It crept lower and lower even as he watched.

A quick check at his Unspent XP showed the remaining points decrease ever-faster.

At this rate, he might be left powerless and without any XP to draw from in the next minute. Maybe even sooner.

Part of him cried out, What are you doing? You’re burning up all your magic on something that’s not working!

But a greater part refused to listen.

No. This is a gamble, and I don’t know if it’s paid off just yet. And if I’m going to gamble my life on this, I’m taking it all the way.

Delacroix’s chase cannon barked their deep double boom!

Caleb’s knuckles went white as he gripped the taffrail, waiting for the impact of the frigate’s cannonballs to tear through sailcloth, wood, flesh, or bone.