Em’s senses, which for weeks had drifted through a blurred world, were slowly returning to their usual sharpness. His old eyes blinked at a jar half full of leeches, a fear he had had for a long time rose: whoever was treating him, was doing it for bad blood.

His sight revealed a lingering death way much closer than he ever thought, devastating a morale already weakened by his own hearing: He was not only terribly sick, but taken. The shanties muffing between the wooden gaps of a creaking ship unfolded verses of a forbidden nature for most sailors. Wicked songs calling for bad luck only Indri’s minions were fool enough to sing.

“He’s awake!” said a small man nervously skipping away from the table where Em was perched.

“So? He’s not going to bite you.’’ Hearing the stingray’s voice on Indri’s ship was not a surprise, as his sense of smell, sharpening as the others, had punished his nose with the scent of intense perfumes since he’d regained consciousness. “You won’t do that, right, tin-man?”

Even taking a thoughtful time to clear his throat, Em’s voice sounded raspy. “My god must hate me deeply.”

“Of course he does,” said the stingray. “That’s why he keeps you alive! And you better remain that way until Indri delivers you to the squids, or the Harpy’s fledgling will unleash her disappointment over your girl.”

Em’s guts turned upside down. On Indri’s ship, few prisoners used to survive more than a week. It was a place where torture was crew entertainment and knowing Ivy was alive, but in such a situation, it wasn’t a reassuring thought in the slightest. “He hates me because of all the people I wish to never meet again, you’re at the top of the list, stinky boy.”

As Dr. Strass threw a swollen leech in a bucket, Ray pulled Em’s up by his sweated shirt. “Unlike you, I smell really well.” the stingray muttered, “Your talkin' makes no sense and ain’t like it.”

“Well, that’s the whole point of calling funny names, lubber.” Getting up, Em’s weak chuckle halted. Where there used to be forearms, wrists and hands, now there were bulges of filthy bandages soaked in the oils from the cables he had instead of veins.

Em shot a furious stare over the stingray, whose nervous giggle showed a visceral fear well remembered by the old captain. “Hey, hey. Wasn’t me ma’boy!” Ray said, raising a telltale finger at the doctor.

“I had to,” said dr. Strass with a shrug of indifference. “The captain said those were as dangerous as any weapon and needed to go. Nothing personal.”

Ray knocked on the door and, with a slight and continuous push, the doctor helped Em towards the exit. Em took a couple of hesitant steps before bending his torso until almost losing balance. His spine cracked and his sore back tensed.

“Ray, Ray!” Strass said. “He’s fainting!”

The stingray raised a hand and waved nervously. “Nay, nay doc! Hey, you better don’t-“

Em shot forward with a clenched jaw and a feral roar. Forehead struck the doctor’s nose to a loud snap and the little man rolled on the floor, taking with him pots and tools clicking and clunking all over the place.

“That’s for the cutting. Nothing personal,” Em said, grimacing at the growing pain. “I have an itch here on the forehead, stink-ray. Mind coming closer to scratch?”

“Do I look stupid to you? Ain’t lettin’ you spoil my perfect face.”

Em huffed. “Actually… you-“

From the corridor door, two gigantic sailors rushed in, cutting his upcoming joke short. Both spooked at the sight of the unconscious doctor and raised daggers up. “What happened here?” asked one with a voice that matched his monstrous appearance.

“He’s damn tired.” Em raised his limbs towards the two pirates. “Too much sawing, I suppose.”

As one grabbed his shirt and pushed him to the exit, the other bent to check on the doctor. With only one of them on him, Em considered an escape, but the idea was nothing but a rookie’s dream. Even on top of his game and with his prosthesis intact, putting just one of those mastodons to sleep would be the most hard of the tasks. Two, almost impossible. And that was not to mention he was trapped on the enemy ship, surrounded by enemy crew and with Ivy at the enemy’s mercy.

“Why are we not heading to the boss’s cabin?” Ray asked.

“The red squids are already here, Cap’n is on deck,” the pirate replied, suddenly reaching out to grab Em, who, either weak from his affliction or dizzy from his headbutt, was barely keeping pace in a straight line.

Ray leaned on the railing of the stairs to let Em and his supporting mate go up first. “Wonderful!” he said. “I cannot wait to leave all this crap behind and return to MY island!”

It was a cloudy day, but still Em’s eyes received the outside light with a painful sting. Indri’s Viper was anchored and with the sails furled. At some distance and perfectly aligned to destroy the pirate ship with a single wave, there was a warship, which, although smaller than the pirate, was more well armed and strong built.

Em was gently pushed to the starboard, where Indri was waiting with arms crossed and legs apart, trying at all costs to appear as intimidating as possible and, although she was completely surrounded by men who were twice her size, and seemed much dangerous on the surface, she managed to stand out among them all.

“You look horribly perfect, old man,” she yelled. “And I’d lie if I say I’m not enjoying it.”

The last time Em had crossed paths with the Harpy’s daughter, she was not much more than a petulant and conceited little brat, and although now she was already a woman capable of hiding her wickedness under a false layer of cute innocence, her well earned and hideous reputation was too notorious to fool anyone.

Em was beginning to feel a heartbeat on his forehead. With swelling pressing and pain getting out of control, his weak body began to find difficulty in hiding a deplorable state already amusing the scallywags around him. He took a deep breath and straightened. “Is that so? I thought constant lying was your thing.”

The giant who had stayed behind to help the doctor trotted quickly to reach the Viper's captain first. As he leaned down to whisper, Indri’s lips tightened briefly in a frustrated grimace before quickly shifting into a tensed smirk. “You head-butted my doctor?” She said through clenched teeth.

“I wanted to slap him, but I don’t reckon where I left my hands.”

Indri wrinkled her nose and, putting her hands between the layers of her sash, blew a short, high-pitched whistle. Two sailors of the same complexion as those who had sent for him brought an Ivy with hands chained and ropes from waist to shoulders. Although she seemed exhausted, Em couldn’t see any kind of external injury. “You’ve never been funny, old man,” Indri said as one of Ivy’s captors pushed her towards Em. “Perhaps I should have cut out your tongue as well.”

“Did they hurt you?” Em asked her niece. Ivy moved her head side to side, eyes lost on the wooden floor. Em’s gaze followed, and travelling across a deck blackened by the lack of holystone and salty sweep, landed on the new party climbing the port boarding nets.

Like the pirates facing them, the kraken men had all calloused hands, fearless looks, and sharpened blades, but they were a much smaller bunch. The last to climb up, and first to step forward, was a tall, well-built man with a shaved head and a long, bushy beard. The way he behaved before friends and foes was of the kind of person you shouldn’t never turn your back on, and unless he stole the black military jacket with ripped off rank filigrees over his shoulders, he was a veteran of the Colonies' War. And that meant he was tough, mean and a deadly dangerous fella.

Ivy fidgeted to the sight of him, and fear widened her eyes and froze a gasp. An obvious expression she shared with all the pirates on deck. “That’s close enough, Riko!” One of them said.

The man called Riko glimpsed at the prisoners from over his shoulder and frowned. “What happened to his arms?” he asked.

“Your request was straightforward: Don’t do any harm to either of them. And I can assure you those minor cuts did not hurt him in the slightest.” Indri said, triggering some chuckles and many more snickers.

Em inhaled to spit some funny wit, but Riko spoke first. “Bring the payment, boys.” The squids diligently brought chests and sacks, which from the glooming, greedy faces on Indri and her men when the kraken opened them, were certainly a juicy bounty.

“It’s always a pleasure doing business with the wealthy Nor-west,” Indri licked her lips and motioned with her chin the order to take the payment inside.

With no more to say, Riko turned his back on them and snapped his fingers.

To someone without experience, the kraken chief seemed a calm man, even naïve in a situation of such dangers. To Em, who was an old wolf, it became clear every subtle movement of hands, every pretentious narrowing of eyes, was not beyond his control, and if he did not seem nervous or scared, it was not because he was careless or inexperienced. The Kraken, though dangerous, was packed with incompetent captains they’d escape even with no hands. But just seeing a glimpse of that man and his crew, Em’s little last hope vanished.

Dragging his feet to the ship’s edge, he passed by the stingray, who was careful enough to maintain a safe distance. “Give my regards to your dear King,” Ray said.

“I’ll do, and I will tell your brother you asked for him as well.” Em said, changing Ray's smile for a grimace of extreme rage.

Watching as a bear-like mercenary hoist Ivy on his shoulder to lower her into the boats, Em squirmed inwardly at the thought of being hauled like a sack of potatoes. To his surprise, two of Riko’s men attached ropes around their waists and passed them under his arms, providing him with enough support to descend on his own feet and preserve his dignity in the process.

“He was a great man, you piece of shit! Hear me?” Yelled Ray from the top. “You’re going to the lowest of the hells, like all of us! Rot and rust. You and all your people!”

With the satisfaction of having nailed a last stab to Raimond’s heart, Em stepped on the kraken boat. The vessel was large enough to require a line of rowers for each set of oars and there was even space between them to walk from bow to stern. The ten sailors with them got all into rowing seats and, apart from Riko and another man sitting in the bow, no one was free to watch the prisoners in the stern. From his seat, Em inspected the surroundings. With each rowing, their vessel was moving further and further away from all the other squid boats, who, being smaller and having fewer oars, could not keep up. Em raised his leg so Ivy could reach with her shackled hands and speak with their special languages of pokes.

“That’s the man who beat me in Ujan, uncle!” Ivy said with quick, nervous pokes. “He’s different. He’s like me, he-”

“Do you think you could dive with all those ropes and handcuffs?” Cut Em with a whisper.

“I’m not leaving you behind.” She poked.

“That won’t be necessary!” shouted Riko from afar. The kraken boss raised and approached, moving nimbly in a boat that rocked with the waves. “No need to plan any escape,” Riko added, as he crouched down.

Em’s eyebrows rose and his head turned toward her niece. “Did I speak too loud without realising?” he asked with sincere confusion.

Ivy’s threatening gaze was fixed on the Kraken’s captain, and rage turned into doubt and soon after into surprise when Riko began snapping the ropes by hand.

“We are sailing to the Atolls. In there, I have a ship ready to send you anywhere you want.” Riko reached for the pair of cutting pliers, and as if the metal was as soft as warm butter, he cut the shackle’s chain. “Better than swimming all the way to the Blue islands.”

“You’ll let us go? Why?” Em asked, barely finding strength to put the words together. He was, of course, reluctant to believe any answer, but surprise and confusion could not abide the question.

“I will share my reasons when we reach the Rampant lion. Together with a hot meal and my good doctor.” Riko said with a warm tone but a cold-blooded face. “Until we do, please don’t make me chase you. I don’t like swimming in cold water.”

When Riko returned to the bow, Em switched to speaking with foot tapping on the wood, hoping the captain’s enhanced, and also annoying hearing couldn’t reach that far. “What do we do?”

Ivy returned the pokes after a long hesitation. “That man is way stronger than me, and he may be as good in the water as I am. Even better! There is no way we can escape.”

Em grunted, scratching memories of the past to find reasons to trust the old brotherhood. “He’s the one who took you prisoner. We shouldn’t put our trust in him.”

“I’m not saying we do, but we can go along. With some luck, maybe Macha has spoken with Otoke and her army is sailing to the Atolls already. There’s exactly where they are going and the best place we can be.”

Em sighed and leaned down, resting his head on the rear seat. Even unchained and unsupervised, they were in the middle of nowhere with no way to hide nearby. Ivy, even tired, could dive and disappear, but not him. Deadly ill, unable to dive, and even swim, he was a liability. A dragging weight she’d never leave behind. “You are right. Mind to soak that rag for me?”

Ivy dipped a piece of cloth into the sea and rested it nicely folded on Em’s swollen forehead. With his eyes saved from the annoying brightness and his moustache dripping not-cold-enough water, Em pictured the good old time of Macha practising aim with AhLong’s birds. He missed the kid deeply, and wishing the rocking of the boat would let him rest nicely for a bit, he thanked god for keeping his daughter alive and well, and begged so his son would stay the same way.