The sun rose over a horizon of stormy waters, hiding with golden rays the navy of Tampraparni. As Ivy narrowed her eyes to foresee the moves of their pursuers, the Ballerina swayed furiously, fighting against a sea that grew wilder by the minute. The Slow Goose, an old hulk true to her name, was lagging, and it was a matter of minutes before she reached her end.

Only two ships managed to survive the craven attack on the Rigg, a sudden battle that had The Blue Kingdom in tatters. From the south, seven more ships that had been anchored in the tranquil atoll of Garts joined their beleaguered fleet, which, adding the Ivy’s catamaran and two patrols teaming from the south, made a total of twelve. A number diminished to nine under the incessant hunting from the copper-hulled chasers.

The Tampra armada had grown as well. Bit by bit and with no pause, the pursuing threat was growing with newer sails, now filling the astern waters with uncountable massive warships. But it wasn’t those better armed but much slower who were decimating the Blue survivors. It was the smaller, swifter vessels specifically designed for reach and cripple. And how well they did it. Like cunning predators, they manoeuvred with precision, employing bow shots to break the Goose downwind sailing and forcing her to beat to windward. The Goose, now tacking desperately to avoid raking fire or grappling lines, was just delaying the inevitable reach of the motherships and their destruction. There was no chance of surrender, and when she, perhaps because of an exhausted crew or a cowardly unexperienced captain, gave up earlier,Ivy's heart raced as the flames engulfed friends and brothers in arms.

The remaining Blue ships sailed with the grim determination of Em’s command, desperately seeking sanctuary amidst the Thousand Kings. Em’s plan was a gamble whose only option of winning was to find no opposition among a notorious group of islands known as a haven for pirates and outcasts.

As she strode inside, a feeling of fear coursed through her veins, with the knowledge their beloved catamaran could be next. The Ballerina, even in good condition, has never been a fast ship. Em’s exceptional sailing capabilities and the misfortune of being accompanied by other less fortunate were the only reasons they didn’t yet feed the fish. Now, there was no one else between them and Tampra, and the gap was closing.

“They got another one, Jun’s brig,” Ivy signed with the exhaustion of a person that has barely slept in days.

Em’s entire body deflated over the wheel. “I told that imbecile to jettison, I’ll semaphore the rest to head northwest. I know the King’s End is a lion’s den, but we have no other option. We won’t reach any further.”

Ivy’s chest pounded. Rushing to grab the wheel that Em released, Ivy’s imagination fixed on the void, trying to make a picture of the gloomy place where the old geezer was going to take them. The Thousand Kings was a mostly humongous and uncharted archipelago ruled by no one but pirates, and the King’s End was the nest where all hid.

Ivy watched Em crumble to the deck. He was tired, weak and it began to be obvious he was also sick. Able to do nothing about it, She gripped the wheel fiercely, trying to ease her frustration. With no time for a breather, another problem arose as she followed Em’s pointing finger toward the bow’s horizon. The skyline of their destination filled with tiny sails. No matter how hard she tried, Ivy couldn’t find any reason to think that those ships, sailing at half sail, were awaiting their arrival with good intentions. There were no more Blue Kingdom ships, and Otoke, their only ally, couldn’t have arrived so soon. Whether they had the colours of Tampra, the Kraken, or Indri, if the armada behind them was a hammer, those were the yoke.

With the sway of the waves, Em deeply struggled to stay on foot while making a true effort to continue a conversation of comings and goings of light. Ivy, fixed on the incoming sails, swallowed through a parched throat. The zigzagging yoke, closing distance more thanks to the speed of the Blue ships than their ability to fight the opposing wind, raised the reds. The flags shaking with the bursts, announced in silence they were all hulls and men of the Harpy’s daughter and with, the same wicked silence, proclaimed there was no option but death.

The southeast of the Ring of Commerce, around the waters commonly called the Pirate Run, hid the realm of unaffiliated and free plunderers. Or had been under the mantle of the Stingray. It had been for years, but the Fist of Piracy had lost another of its fingers, and with a new ruler, there was no place for empty canvases. Any ship willing to engage in pirate business had to sew the white crossed sabres of Indri over their reds and blacks. “No one dares to go near the waters of the Oozing.” Em said on his return. “They decided to split. Some will go south to Srivijaya and the others will sail east to the Primitive Islands. The fools believe they will make it that far.”

“Maybe the Tireless Pigeon or the Herald will,” Ivy said. Em agreed with a grunt while taking back his place as a navigator. Lingering aside, Ivy found her mind racing with thoughts of survival and the fate that awaited them at the Kings End. A nauseating feeling grew wilder inside her guts. The Oozing Pimple, hidden amongst the islands of the Kings End, was the headquarters of all the evil of the place. The moniker, a clear mockery of the grandiose names the kingdoms gave to their places of importance, was just an illusion that hid a terrifying nature. There was no other place in the world, apart perhaps from the Black Rock, that struck more fear into the hearts of sailors. A city built over reefs that sheltered souls even more rotten than the planks it was made of. A hole where all sorts of malice thrived, a cutthroat world where treachery and danger lurked around every corner. An undesirable destination, the Ballerina, unable to escape for much longer, had no other option but to sail.

With the new change of direction, the catamaran loosened the broad reach speed. Sailing on a port tack and vulnerable to a possible engagement, Ivy rushed for her sword, hoping the Tampra chasers would try to board instead of simply wiping them with cannon fire. None approach: As the rest of the Blue Kingdom ships split, the hunters followed behind.

“We are putting water in!” Ivy signed with excitement. Maybe, unlike the Kraken, which had the clear objective of catching Em, Tampra only thought of destroying the Kingdom, and therefore, the largest ships were a juicier prey than a small and dilapidated catamaran. Or perhaps, knowing full well the dangers that awaited in the Northwest, they did not dare to follow the madness.

The captain narrowed his eyes and wiped his sweaty forehead. “The… charts… There,” Unknowing what he was talking about, Ivy waited while he rested his head on the wheel. Ivy reached, noticing he was boiling, and with a gentle push, she took his place.

“Rest a bit, I can sail until the shoals, at least,” she said, following his crumbling steps towards the chart table. Em grabbed one of the papers the wrong way and staggered around. “This… look at this…”

Ivy would have liked to remind him that without her glasses, she could see little at close ranges, much less read the maps, but as the thought passed through her mind, the chart flipped to her side, followed by a strong blow. Turning around, she found Em unconscious over the floor and she hastened to his aid, leaving the Ballerina to her fate. The cat, sailing without a hand, trembled with the force of the waves, raising the bow to face a large one that had been taken the wrong way. As the two hulls fell to stab the sea, Ivy hit the ground. Ignoring the pain over a shoulder that bore the impact of her weight, she picked her uncle up again, dragging him promptly toward what had once been Lim’s room. There, where Em had put some blankets as a temporary bed, she left him babbling. As the ship rocked, she reached for the medicine box from among a pile of junk. “Govern… leave me…” he said, trying with difficulty to sit up. “I’m fine. The ship... It’s an order!”

When she returned to the wheel, the Ballerina regained her mastery of the winds and her path over the waves. Keeping her gaze fixed on the rough sea, Ivy slightly deviated the course to the right, to gain a bit of the wind’s power. The sky, which had woken up docile and sunny, had turned black, heralding a storm. It didn’t worry her. She was as experienced as any and, after days of relentless pursuit, if a storm surge could put a distance for respite, she’d gladly sail it without a complaint.

“Brace!” Em yelled with the intensity of a mad sailor who witnessed the aberrations of the depths. “Brace!“ The bow waters rose like two columns of foam. Not letting the threat shots intimidate her, Ivy crossed the impact zone without falling into the trap expected if she changed course. As curtain of water washed the deck’s wooden floor. The next warning shots reached. One raised another large column at the starboard bow and the other tore the sail clean. Whoever was shooting at them, Ivy had to see where they were doing it from, or else she wouldn’t be able to dodge a subsequent burst. Until then, she had never questioned the catamaran’s design, and with a navigation post inside a bridge with the only sight of the front seas, she realised how poorly prepared was her home for such engagements. With a knot in her stomach, she released the wheel again, this time tying it down with a steering rope, a small help that hopefully would keep the ship in a straight line over the incoming waves.

As fast as she could, Ivy traced the seas to find one of the pirate vessels approaching perilously from the starboard quarter. And it was not just any ship. The four-masted galleon had a raised canvas with two crossed sabers beside a winged bird-woman, and the ship’s beak was topped by the carving of a gigantic viper with its golden fangs shining with the little sunlight left before the upcoming storm. That was the Sea krait; the ship of the Harpy’s daughter herself.

The two bow chase guns spited fire and smoke to give a last warning. A lantern at the forecastle repeating rapidly no other shots would fail.

With the arrival of the preceding calm, the sails deflated, and the surface turned into a mirror. Like the answer to a prayer Ivy had not made, the Ballerina continued on her course, riding over a river-tide that was clearly visible in the flattened sea. Indri’s ship, deprived of both the help of air and water, came about, searching unsuccessfully for a way to reach closer.

Ivy witnessed with relief, from a ship spinning randomly at the mercy of the sea, how the pirates lagged behind. From the castle, the semaphoring light continued relentlessly through the threats. “Come back and surrender. We’re going to get you soon or later. Capitulate now and there will be no blood.”

Following the burst of thunder, a downpour felt over her. The tip of the cat’s mast disappeared from sight, so did the Sea Krait. The last blinks of the pirate lanterns faded at the same time a direct threat to Em’s life was being lighted. Ivy closed her eyes and faced the black sky, letting the rainfall hit her face and cursing to whoever dared to threaten his uncle’s life.

Questions raced. What was wrong with Em? Was it only a fever? Was it something else? Did they have the proper medicines? Where was the Ballerina drifting? Was it a good course? If they reached the Kings End, where would she go? How to cross the dangers that she couldn’t see on the charts? How to sail the Oozing without being seen? Could the Ballerina outsail the Krait?

When the incessant drops became as painful as her thoughts, she trudged to the cover of the bridge, with not a single clue of where to go or what to do.