Serenity rose from the water and smiled at Kelton. Her beauty drew him toward her. Ignoring the flood over the tops of his boots, he pursued his desire. Her eyes sparkled, reflecting the soft morning sun as it danced across the surface of the pond. He heard his name from her lips, a song that dissolved into his soul. Her welcoming arms reached out to him, then she rose high atop a wave, out of reach.

Kelton sat upward as the dream dissolved into his waking. He was holding his breath until he thought not to do so. Unlike other dreams, Serenity's image appeared perfect, as if time had done no damage. How it invaded his mind was a mystery. Juno had been growing in his conscious thoughts, not Serenity. He had not thought of her in years. And the dream, it was the same one patterned as before, something else he imagined was left far behind. It stroked his libido, yet there was no desire beyond the physical, nothing like the cherished memory of Juno's kiss. It was if his approaching homeland demanded he return to what was. Thinking back, Serenity was not kind to him. Surely not worthy of remembering in such a way, not with all who he now considered friends. Kindness is the real beauty.

The position of the ship's crew drifted into Kelton's thoughts, perhaps the reason he pulled himself from the dream. Though one remained at the wheel, the others were gathered, not ten steps from his door. He could feel their intent, the desire to relieve the ship of its passenger. No doubt, without Sebastian's gold following him into the depths. It bothered Kelton that the captain was either playing neutral at the wheel, or part of the approaching party. Losing him would have dire consequences for the future of navigation.

Kelton gathered spiders-bite, which always lay at his side when he slept, and moved a blade's length from the barred door. The crew neared with a whispered argument in progress. Kelton strained forward to hear.

"You will not dissuade us, Captain."

"You know not what you will cause," the captain argued.

Kelton was pleased there was at least one who desired peace. If he had to choose, the captain was the best choice of poor choices. Unfortunately, he could hear the desperation in the man's voice.

"Even if you succeed, which is in great doubt," the captain continued, "there are those who will know what was done. It may be months before the knowledge travels, but they will know."

"No one knows of the happenings on the Dark Isle," one of the crew said. "And we will say nothing, or profit in lies if the need arises."

"There is not enough coin to hide from what awaits us if we hinder his path," the captain said. "Treachery will only buy your end and mine. I was well warned before I left, by one with more money and power than we will ever hold, no matter the prize. We do not claim the friends he possesses." There was a pause in both words and movement.

Kelton was as surprised as the crew must have been. Filgot most likely returned to the tavern with words from Tarvakian, maybe backed by the princess as well. One of the King's counsel and a royal would have great pull. He grinned at the idea of it all. Filgot must have put the fear of the All-Father into the captain. Kelton lowered spiders-bite, his friends meant to spare him, yet they had done more for the crew.

"Scatter to your racks," the captain whispered. "Better to rid ourselves of this yoke soon, then be trampled by the beast beneath it." They whispered among themselves, the arguments fading as the crew peeled off one by one. Kelton waited a long while before emerging from his cramped cabin, thinking it best that none knew he was aware of the happenings.

"The nest should spot your land this day," the captain said, skipping any greeting as he approached the bow. None were cordial, the crew returning to their full disdain of Kelton. The captain would at least trade words.

"Your ship will soon sail to your whims again," Kelton said. There was a grayness to the west, clouds growing that lacked the fury look of a tempest, though a dousing looked probable. He pointed at them. "Rain?"

"Aye," the captain agreed. "It should be upon us by mid-day. I'll have barrels put out to catch some. If the warmth remains, I suspect many will bathe in it." He looked forward, watching the billowing waves, a few breaking to show white foam caps. "It has been a long gentle voyage. I do not remember such a span in the past. The All-Father has blessed your journey."

"I have heard such before," Kelton said, his eyes scanning the horizon like the captain. "Where I go now, I was told the Goddess blessed me. I have spoken to neither, so I have doubted either guide my path." He paused a moment, thinking of the returned morning ritual of the repeated dream and the Knowing becoming his again. "As of late, I have begun to think something is stirring my fate, something tied to my birth land. Curse or blessing, I can not decide." He chuckled. "Mayhap, both mixed as one."

"I have become tied to it as well," the captain said. "You do not mean to stay on the Dark Isle, do you?"

"Nay," Kelton said, surprised that Filgot would divulge such a thing, even in threat. He looked at the captain. "You know more than I wish." There was an oddness about their relationship, tolerance swimming in a pool of dislike. Within it, something akin to trust had grown. Their needs coincided for a time, and while they did, they could think in tandem.

"And more than I desire," the captain admitted. "Though your purse now speaks to me and my crew. I wish a bargain or at least a chance at one."

"A bargain?" Kelton said, confusion clear on his face.

"Aye," the captain nodded, "I know not your plan, nor how you thwart those that control the land. I do know that to leave such a place, it will be by ship. To do so will cost coin such as you have retrieved from the sea." He smiled weakly. "I grow older by the day, and this life has begun to weigh on my bones. Coin such as yours would see me land-bound in comfort."

"I did not think a flagged ship would risk such a thing."

"A gamble to be sure," the captain said, then looked about the horizon. "Though the All-Father seems to touch your doings. A hard risk for good coin. And mayhap, something more on land." Kelton surmised that Tarvakian promised him something. Ties to the greatest of houses carries a lot of weight.

"I do not know how long it will take," Kelton said.

"You know the ways of the Shunneer port, do you not?"

"Some." Kelton nodded. "There are those who know it well, and I rely on them." He was thinking of the Seven, his hazy plan all along. "And it is my intent that there will be more than I leaving." Trust had just grown to an uncomfortable level. A foggy plan required such things. "Your crew will not be pleased with these troubles, especially if they derive from me."

"Good coin and a voyage home will stifle their complaints." The captain shrugged. "If all works well, I will gift my flag to Marko, and he will calm the others. Greed works well for such things."

"Surrender your flag?"

"Aye, though, I will demand portions of future cargo for a time. A good trade for one such as him. From crew to captain is not often done, and I have no son to pass such things down too."

"Was it not my sword at your son's throat that stalled your men when first we met?" Kelton asked. He had not queried why no kin was aboard, not wanting familiarity to cloud what needed to be done. Now the captain claims none as family, and with a sadness leaking into the words.

"Aye," the captain said, his eyes finding the deck. "A pox claimed him years ago, though I think it the shame of surrendering to your sword that weakened his fight against it." He looked back up, his eyes steadying. "It is past, as are our grievances."

Tarvakian must have devised a prosperous future for the captain, something that held promise without strife at sea. A bargain that held more promise than the hatred that still lay behind the captain's eyes. Kelton struggled with being worthy of such a thing. He still saw himself as causing more problems than profit.

"Still, I know not the time it will take," Kelton said.

"There is a full moon two days hence. I will gather cargo at a Virnici port and put into Shunneer by the next moon."

"It may take longer."

"My main mast will be damaged," the captain said with a smile. "Take another moon for repairs, something they cannot deny. To do so, would make all captains hesitant to return. By the second moon, I must leave for the Isle's ire will have grown large. It will require a fee, for we must eat."

"A fee? It is a risk to trust one such as you."

"Aye, and a risk to do as you need." The captain leaned against the railing and looked about the ship, seemingly verifying that no other ears were near. "Trust my greed as I trust your need to do right by...is it your family or such?"

"Two moons?" Kelton asked, ignoring clarification on Juno. Best if there were ignorance in his desired target. The captain nodded his agreement. "What is the fee?"

"50 gold should cover things."

"Cover them well," Kelton said. "It is costing me more to arrive than it will to leave. And you may fly away with my coin and leave me to fend for another ship, or worse, warn those that care of my goal."

"Of that, you must trust," the captain said. "Fee or not, the worst is always within my grasp. What I offer profits us both." He sneered. "The last time I thought I had the better of property, I found myself on the floor of my tavern, begging not to be ended. Do you think I will tempt that fate again?"

"25 gold," Kelton countered. "And all I have left once I, and those with me, board for the return." Lawbreaking was an expensive endeavor. Without experience, it was a difficult thing to put a price on it.

"You may not have a copper left," the captain bargained. "I desire that cache to be as full as it is now. It will cost much to placate the crew, and make the risk feel worthy."

Kelton would need more coin, and two months to acquire it. The Seven would demand their price as well. It must all be done while traveling to find Juno and the others. He may have to rely on his first profession. If he could find him, Kelton would need Gossamer's help to steal the necessary coin, and do it quickly. The cache was only a beginning—a murky plan at best, which was still better than no plan.

"25 then?" Kelton asked.

"25." The captain nodded in agreement. The deal was struck, each half-trusting the other. It had been an odd offer, most likely led by the belief in a secure future within Tarvakian influence. Perhaps providing the method of Kelton's return would lift the captain higher.

"Two moons then," Kelton said. It was uncomfortable to grasp wrists with a man he thought nefarious. The world was broken, and needs demanded such bargains. He knew he would accept worse if it allowed him to speed Juno from Aragonia.

It was well dark when Kelton placed spiders-bite into the barrel. It now lay next to his pack, which contained the bulk of his worldly possessions, including his overclothes and boots. What little else he had, waited at house Tarvakian for his return. He disliked spiders-bite being out of arm's reach, but it couldn't be helped. The abrasive seawater would do battle with the metal and weaken the leather-wrapped pommels. Best to rely only on a waist blade until he reached shore. He hoped the water wasn't as cold as it looked.

Marko, ordered by his captain, coated the barrel's rim with tar and sealed it with a wooden top. A tiny wedge was driven into the seam to tighten the cap and keep it in place. The barrel had held water for most of the journey, so Kelton trusted it for the short swim ashore.

"You wish it roped?" Marko asked. An unexpected offer of help from a man who was not shy about his dislike of Kelton.

"Roped?"

"Aye," Marko said. His hand wove a pattern around the barrel. "They are slippery things in the water, rolling about with little way to grasp. Bind it with a rope for handholds, and leave the ends free for pulling and such."

"Have you floated with a barrel before?" Kelton asked while nodding his agreement.

"Went in for one I failed to tie down," Marko replied as he retrieved a length of rope hung on a bollard. "For an old captain of mine, one less inclined to accept mistakes as this one. The ship took a wave bad, and over the side the barrel went." He shrugged. "Wet again, I was. Took some time to work it back to the ship."

"I would think you would prefer to see me flounder with it," Kelton said.

"Aye," Marko agreed as he began to wrap the barrel. "But then you may lose your cache and my chance at a piece of it." He grinned. "I heard your words with the captain, and wish them to transpire." He paused and looked at the ship from bow to stern. "Never thought I could sail as captain. It would be a grand thing to send others swimming after barrels."

Greed was definitely a good motivator. Kelton helped to tilt the barrel, and the rope was wrapped lengthwise as well so that it did not shift along the wood. Strong knots finished the task.

"A fine idea," Kelton said as he pulled on the rope and found it secure. "I would have never thought of it."

"The sea teaches many things," Marko said. He turned and walked away as Kelton pondered the man's tone. It was said as if he were a captain speaking to a fresh sailor. Almost ridiculous considering Kelton's knowledge of the Marko.

The captain approached from the bow of the ship. "I fear approaching closer in this light. Running aground would do little for either of our efforts."

Kelton looked out at the shadow of Aragonia's southern tip. If not for the light of the waning moon, it would have been difficult to decipher its direction. Either way, it would be a long swim in dark waters.

"Then here is where we part," Kelton said. A sense of foreboding ran along the hairs of his skin. There was nothing of note to cause it beyond the dark swim. It seemed an easier task when he devised the plan. Now, less so. "I will need help hefting this over the rail," he said, indicating the barrel.

The captain and Kelton lifted the barrel to top of the rail. Kelton paused its travels and took a deep breath to ease his new misgivings.

"Two moons," Kelton said.

"I will be there," the captain said. It sounded deterministic as if nothing would stop the captain from completing the bargain. Kelton liked the sound of it, and pushed the barrel over the side and attempted to follow.

"Wait," the captain said, stalling Kelton. "Give the barrel a moment and not leap upon it." Kelton smiled at his foolishness and waited briefly before completing his plunge.

The water was colder and blacker than Kelton imagined, and the drop far higher. He rose from the depths experiencing an instant of blind panic, sputtering for air as salt-soaked eyes struggled to find the barrel. It rose on a wave a body length away, the moon showing it still watertight and riding high. He swam to it and found Marko's rope to be a blessing. After his mind settled and gathered its bearings, he waved to the departing ship. There was movement, an acknowledgment he thought, or imagined, as the vessel moved with the wind into darkness.

The waves were high enough to hide Aragonia from Kelton when he was at the bottom of the swells. They were persistent but not aggressive, the tops barely breaking. He quickly determined that pushing the barrel was more efficient than dragging, so he took hold of the rope at one end and kicked toward his birthplace using the buoyancy to ease the energy requirement. It was slow going.

As Kelton neared the shore, the sound of waves breaking grew. Not the gentle sound of water rolling on sand, but the excited cacophony of sea fighting rock. Steering became less effective as the waves increased in power, the ride down accelerating into a blind movement among churning surf.

The barrel caught a boulder on one downward trip, the wave topping the rock, then exposing it as it fell. Kelton spun as his wooden float rolled down the backside of the rock, turning him to the left. Another wave followed the next, catching him with only half a breath and driving him under. The barrel bobbed upward on the next wave, pulling Kelton skyward once again. His side hit hard on another exposed rock, and the barrel yanked him toward shore following another crashing wave. Kelton hung on to the ropes and twisted his body to keep his wrists from bending wrongly as the barrel rolled moving forward, then back as the waves receded.

Kelton found footing on a rocky seafloor that his feet found sharp. He ignored the pain and relished in the joy of having more control over direction. Pulling the barrel became the new method, as he steered through the dark maze of rocks as each new wave forced him forward. Soon, he found himself rolling the barrel in waist-deep water. As he neared the shallows, the rope became a hindrance, slowing the rolling when it snagged on the rocky shore.

Exhaustion took its toll by the time Kelton found the treeline and land made of soil, not rock. It took an effort to set the barrel upright and cut off the rope. He used his shivering fingers to locate the wedge and pried it out with his knife. Then, with the blade's leverage, he was able to dislodge the lid. He reached in for his cloak, trying unsuccessfully to avoid the tar.

Kelton wrapped himself in his cloak and sat against a large tree whose roots created a niche that cradled his backside like a seat. He leaned back and closed his eyes and thought warm thoughts as the cloak began to trap his body's heat.

Before sleep took him, Kelton's nose remembered. The forest smelled like home.

"Dump the water, captain?" Marko was shocked at the order.

"Aye, I think it fouled," the captain said. "All of it. We can reach Shunneer before next midday in this wind. We will provision more there." Marko hesitated. They were not making for Virnici as the captain told Kelton, not that Marko cared what was said to that cursed man, though the part of becoming a captain was of great interest.

"It does not smell or taste foul," Marko argued.

"Over the side," the captain repeated, this time with a voice that demanded an active response. "And raise the topsail. We will make port this next day, or I'll take skin from you laggards."

Marko and another began rolling a full barrel towards the rail. Another of the crew followed with a bucket to empty enough of it to allow it to be lifted with ease. Marko was sure the water was good a moment ago, and nothing had changed except Kelton going over the side. There was much to dislike about Kelton, but ruining water was not in the man's nature. They were making for the Dark Isle port for a different purpose and in great haste. Dumping good water held no value he could put his finger on. Marko disliked not knowing things.