The notion the city was grappling with a plague turned out to be a silver lining for Donna. The sparsely populated water streets, quiet squares, and deserted cafes brought her a sense of joy, given her aversion to crowds. As she savoured a blueberry pie at the only open bakery in the city, her uncontrollable happiness turned a tasteless sweet into the finest one she could have relished.

Donna was sure the perceived plague, supposedly brought by merchants, wasn't some punishment from a deity and the rumours about cities being wiped off the map weren't the result of divine wrath either. While it was all connected, Lim had concluded the destructive bombs used by Herjard over the Marquisee had a fallout corrupting the land. It was a hypothesis without proof but she was convinced those who lingered near the northern wastelands, like the unlucky merchants and sailors, fell ill as a consequence.

Of course, Lim had not shared her discoveries with anyone but Donna and as a result, Mestra was almost empty. Who remained was because they lacked contacts for the few ships remaining, or lacked coins to pay the exorbitant fares to the south. Father, who decided to continue his miserable existence in the city, struggled to keep the family business afloat and yet managed with great effort to hire a middleman who charged a fair, yet still high price to Haddens town.

Adriana, an old classmate, and one of her biggest bullies, ruined the delight of the second bite when she crossed the weepers’ portal. Donna changed chairs and covered her face as if the sun was too bright. “Should I bring an umbrella, miss?" said the pastry chef, a man who even having little to eat, was as fat as always.

Donna took out her purse and handed him a pile of coins worth more than ten times the price of her breakfast. "I don't accept charity, miss," he said, pretending to be offended.

"Of course not, sir,” she said, pretending to be polite. ”Mind to take the basket and fill it with the price, then? Anything recently made with vanilla and chocolate." With her head lowered like a sleeping bird, Donna watched as the baker’s powdered shoes moved away. To her disappointment, Adriana's gnawed boots took over the same cobblestones soon after. “Eh, good morning, Donna. Do…do you remember me?”

Donna hid under a mask of pleasantry and made no effort to pretend it wasn't forced. “Ah… sure, of course I do. How are you?”

Adriana rushed to the seat without wasting any time with the menial chatting. “I'm sorry to approach you this way, but I’m truly desperate,” She said. “I heard that your family has got a ship to the south and I was wondering… well… if your father would accept my sister and me as servants in exchange for passage.”

“Even if we had the money to pay for two more passengers, which we don't have,” Donna finished the raspberry cake as quickly as she could and, without touching anything of the new serving, got up. “Or we needed more servants than the many we have...”

“I…I understand…” Adriana, biting her lip to stop from sobbing, didn't know where to look. “I know I treated you badly all these years. I deserve it.”

Seeing the effects of her resentment, Donna held her tongue. Her heart was dying to return the mistreatment she once had to endure but she knew very well being vindictive wouldn’t make her feel any better. “Listen, my father is staying and he is not feeling very well lately. There are hardly any servants left in the house so if you agree to take care of him for little or no wages, in a year or two he may have enough to rent you a new ship."

Adriana's fist clenched and her teeth bit down a hissed complaint. “In a year the plague will leave this damn city empty! I thought a wiseacre like you would know better.”

Donna piled up the last coins she had left on the table and took her grocery basket before leaving. "Wiseacre, huh?” She said, “Fancy words for a brain like yours. Take care of your sister, A…Ariadna."

Adriana cursed but shortly. The time before the baker would reach the table would be short and she surely preferred to spend her time eating the leftovers and taking the money. Donna was dying to see her shamefully acting like a beggar, but she preferred to keep her sight towards the channel. The illusion of happening was better than facing a tiny chance of a good deed.

The ragged man waiting for her on the boat was equally ignorant and disrespectful as her classmate, but what was the most infuriating of him was the absence of respect for those of better class. So, having such a peahead as a company, Donna limited the conversation to simple, concise instructions of what was required of him to do. “Ye done, miss?” He said while spitting a chunk of tobacco.

Donna handed him the basket and avoided a dirty hand extending to aim her boarding. “Not yet, bring me to the corner of Allus.”

The boats moving through the narrow canals of Mestra did not use oars. Instead, boatmen used a long pole to push the boat using the shallow bottom as a foothold. As the boatman used this technique to reach the southeast corner of Father's mansion, the sailor hummed a lewd song only he believed was bothering his passenger. Right before the last turn, he finished his singing and let out a chuckle. "Me'lady, no waiting too long much more, uh? Me cap’n want to departin' soon."

“You’ll wait as much as I require,” Donna said. “I’m the one paying your wages, not your captain.”

When they reached the private dock, Mother was already waiting. Pale and curled up on a stool, she raised a hand to mute a coughing aimed to remind her daughter how very sick she was. For weeks, the doctor said repeatedly her condition could easily turn lethal, but even in such a situation, Mother put more effort into pretending suffering in the seek of attention than trying to heal properly. "Do you know how long I've been waiting?" Mother gasped between false sobs. “You let me wait for hours, as sick as I am!”

Aventure and Curasso gently pulled her up and with the help of the driver's calloused hands, placed her on the boat. Curasso, the butler, was not going with them, and after piling his mistress' luggage in a corner, he nodded and left without a farewell. He’d been in the family's service since before Donna was born and like Father, he was not going to leave Mestra. They’d not see each other again and yet, not a single sign of affection was shared. That was the effect Mother had on everyone around her.

The last one to board was Aventure. With little brains but fantastic hands, she was the only personal assistant Mother required. That didn't mean she was the only one joining the journey to Helsios, though. On the merchant ship, apart from Lim who had previously docked to supervise the voyage, there were a couple of dozen more servants who would take care of the trifles essential for their comfort. Especially of Mother. Donna needed a little. She’d spend the days with Lim, studying and learning.

Donna couldn't wait to meet her. To get back her full attention. The madman of Ventfort’s research had kept her tremendously busy even long after the child's birth, and although Donna had quenched her thirst for knowledge with Lim's endless engineering notes, nothing could replace the source.

The boat shook and returned Donna to the real world. Aventure, terrified of the water as much as Donna was, squealed uncontrollably, amusing the sailor.

Before entering the Grand Canal, Donna turned to take one last look at her home. Curasso hadn't said anything to her either, and the realisation made her stomach turn. Not that she cared much, after all, her farewell to Father was equally cold, but still, receiving the same treatment as Mother made her feel uneased. When Mother rested her head on Donna’s lap the day worsened even further. “It's already too late,” Mother said. “The Maiden has punished us all. We should cancel the trip and return. At least I would spend my last days comfortably in bed.”

“What you call Plague is neither contagious nor do you have it,” Donna said.

Mother writhed in pain. "What do you know? If you and Lim are as smart as you think you are, find a cure instead of wasting time with that infernal monster. O Maiden, forgive my daughter of her blasphemous doings!"

It was impossible to argue with Mother so Donna sought calm with the views of a sadly neglected Grand Canal.

It was partly true the freak, as almost everyone called her, was a particularly strange baby and to some, terrifying. She was a regular brat, with the same ugly appearance as any other and the same disgusting habits of a child of her age. It was the voice what terrified every single member of the household, even Donna. Her cooing was like the squealing of a sea creature and her crying, the worst by far, was a blare worthy of the underworld’s beasts. The thought of staying at an adjoining cabin during the entire trip made Donna's hair stand on end.

The Grey Swallow was anchored just past the end of the channel where the port’s bay gave sufficient depth to carry out trade. The sailor, who was humming his lascivious song to an Aventure who seemed to enjoy it too much, changed the staff for a short oar.

Seeing a simple ladder of ropes and boards unwind down the wooden wall filled Donna with overflowing rage. Although she could well control her fear of water, it was one thing to cross a strong, well-placed boarding board and another, adventure on the unnecessary dangers of seamanship.

Aventure stepped to the climb first, delighted by the disgusting shanty of a boatman who was bloating like a bladder to her giggles. “Focus on your duties and request something else for Mother,“ Donna said. “She cannot climb in her condition. Neither should she, even with all her health.”

“Yer turn, lady.” Donna answered the comment with a dreadful glance the sailor ignored completely. When a rope bundled with a woollen blanket lowered, the man rushed to pass the line under Mother's armpits with little consideration of her status. Mother of course complained, but nothing compared to the yelling after the crew began to pull her up like a simple sack of merchandise.

The blanketed rope returned, but seeing how Mother hung, Donna stepped on the lather. “Ye hurry!” Complained the sailor, climbing from behind. Donna felt the pressure of sneaking eyes slithering through her undergarments and rushed her climb. She misstepped twice, but even with her eyes closed and trembling hands, she reached the top without falling. It was not until she was helped to cross the edge handrail she realised the boat below was drifting away with the Mother’s packages untouched.

“What do you think you are doing, lacking blunder? The luggage!” The sailor waved and chuckled while another man pulled her viciously away towards the centre of the deck. There, Mother was on her knees in front of a man sitting over boxes as if he was on a throne.

“You can't do this!” Mother mumbled as Donna reached. “Take her! The southerner. She’s a wonder! And… and, she's worth more than you can ever imagine, she-”

“Shut up Mother!” Donna yelled. “what is going on here? I demand an-”

“Ye shutting, bratty!” The captain cut. “Both of ye!

Mother gasped to continue her betrayal, but a student cough left her helpless. “She… she has a bounty, good…big…”

With rage blurring her judgement, Donna forgot about Mother and scouted the deck for the only man who could give her an answer for whatever misunderstanding was losing her mother's tongue.

With greasy hair, a pretentious cheap costume and a face with poorly defined features, Branlin Sanar did not please any sight. Spooking her from behind, he reached the side of the captain, dragging his feet and rubbing his hands with a stinky oil he was going to spread over his hair.

“Serenity and composure, my goodfellas,” Branlin said with his shushing voice. The middleman was not someone who could make a good impression with his appearance, but he was one of those who convinced everyone with his speech. Furthermore, when Donna joined Father in the interview, Sanar proved to be knowledgeable and educated: something the captain and his men completely lacked. And if that wasn't enough, he had the best reputation among the few remaining transporters. When Donna remembered each detail, seeing him in the middle of insubordination doing nothing more than raking his hair, her fury overloaded.

“Mister Sanar, what is happening?” Donna said. “I demand an explanation immediately!”

Sanar smirked, making his ugliness more obvious. “Well, it's what should have happened on the high seas, girl. But some idiot talked too much, right Brimaldi?”

The captain fisted his leg while his face reddened. “Parniport! Nay’one said a word! Tell’ya, that witch reads minds! She realised the plan as soon as she boarded!”

Sanar crouched to face Mother at her level. “I heard about that bounty. You’d spread some whispers to be heard, naughty woman. But it doesn't interest us. Herjard is as deaf as is mute, and its minions don't pay, just take.” Sanar tapped Mother's head as if she was a kid and stood suddenly. “We’ll follow the original plan. It's a safe shot.”

“Plan?” Donna muttered. “What are you talking about? Where is Lim? Where are the rest?”

Looking around, she found herself surrounded by hostility. Every frown, every smirk was proof she no longer had control. She was at their mercy. “Your colleague is well tied in her room. Smart fella that one. The rest are sharing the filthy pantry’s floor with the rats. Behave well and I'll give you the treatment of the former.”

“Dis one has plague, I recommend chain’n’plank.” the captain said.

“Maiden, oh maiden,” Sanar said after a long sigh. “Leverage Brimaldi, leverage,”

“Wan lever? Tell ye wat!” Said the captain pointing a finger towards Donna. “Ye do what I say or I swear, I'll Keel-Haul-ye all the way to the Red! Is’dat enough lever, Bran?”

Sanar slapped the sides of his legs with both palms. “Can you please stop being so stupid? Damn it! How much do you think we will get from her if you do that, uh?

“Isolate the sick in her room. This young lady will cooperate with everything, or else the one kissing the barnacles will be her mummy!”

“Suppose ye right,” The captain rubbed his nose and snorted deeply. “Reason let ye stay round with us, smarthead. How about the freak and the witch? They scare ma’crew.”

“Give the breastfeeding girl a good rest and lots of food. A well-fed baby sleeps plenty and cries little.

“The critter is indeed annoying, but healthy and well built after all. My partners know a rich fool desperate to please a childless wife. He'll pay big time for it. As for the southerner, a rag in the mouth and a tight knot at the wrist keep any witching away. She is too pretty to be wasted.”

Sanar grabbed Donna's chin and clenched fiercely. She’d like to move away. She’d like to scream. To fight. But she was petrified. Her legs didn't respond, nor were her hands or mouth.

“And this one,” Sanar continued. “Will write for me a letter of recommendation stating how great my services are. And many more to her daddy saying how amazing her new life is, all ready to deliver for the years to come. Or else, her annoying mummy won't reach the Red. Am I clear?”

Of all she had learned and all Lim had shared, nothing would ever prepare her for a moment like that. With the terrifying realisation any intelligence, wisdom or knowledge would have no power against raw strength, her words came out barely audible. “Ye- yes.”

Sanar leaned in, his waxy, hairy ear almost touching her lips. “Didn't hear you well, girl.” He said. “I suppose you meant; ‘Yes, master’.”