A few hours later, the Nameless is back to normal. Alice freely offers her help with returning the cargo to the hold, although her father conveniently disappears during that time, saying something about a map. Not long after the hold is full, while Alice, Gunny, and Mal are all lying stretched out on the deck of the Nameless, Fahrn returns.

He lands on the deck softly, and the others barely notice. “You three ready to get some work done?” he asks.

“We have gotten work done,” Alice says as she sits up. “You just went and found a map.”

“Which I would appreciate looking at,” Mal says diplomatically. “Come, let’s go to the cabin.”

So they do. With four people in it, Alice finally finds it cramped. It doesn’t help that their things have recently been searched, and the ham-fisted wanna-be cops didn’t particularly care about whether they left a mess behind. While the others gather around the desk, Alice goes about hurriedly picking up her and Mal’s things and putting them back in a reasonable semblance of order.

Meanwhile, Fahrn pushes aside most of the stuff on Mal’s desk, clearing a space large enough for the map. He rolls it out and points out a few particular points on the rippled vellum. Alice can hear him clearly, even if she can’t quite see the details while she’s doing things like re-sheathing the swords and putting them back in Mal’s wardrobe.

“Headstone is here,” Fahrn says, pointing to a blotch somewhat shaped like a curly-cue. “I’d like you to take the cargo here.”

“Hmm,” Mal says. “That’s a bit far…”

“In a ship as fast as yours it’ll take you a week. And that’s if you decide to stop at all the islands between here and there. You could make it in less time.”

You don’t know the half of it, Mal thinks. But that’s not his problem with the prospect. “Getting it there isn’t the concern,” Mal says. “Why should I go three islands deeper into a chain that has nothing in it for me?”

“There’s plenty of reason to go to Lonely Palms,” Fahrn insists. The name of the island piques Alice’s interest, as it’s shared by the school where her parents met. But that’s not important enough for her to interrupt. “And there will be payment,” Fahrn continues.

“Of a mysterious sort, which for some reason you are unwilling to tell me about before we get the job done.”

Fahrn shifts uncomfortably. “It’s not exactly money…”

Mal rolls his eyes. “No, shit. What is it?”

“Tuanaki coal.”

Alice inhales sharply and immediately stops what she’s doing. “There’s more Tuanaki coal?” she asks, turning around to face the conversation.

Fahrn looks over at her. “There’s always been more Tuanaki coal,” he says. “There’s always been a fair few more Tuanakis than most people know about.”

“What’s Tuanaki coal?” Mal asks carefully.

“It’s a special kind of coal that burns hotter and cleaner than any coal you’re used to,” Alice answers quickly. “All the respectable folk — like Piers level respectable, I’m talking, cause the stuff’s terrible expensive — their houses only run Tuanaki coal. The problem is, they wanted it so bad they dug it all out of Tuanaki in the span of a decade. That’s why Tuanaki’s so… pitiful. But, if there’s more Tuanakis… and their veins run rich with Tuanaki coal…”

“You know an awful lot about coal for someone who’s never worked with it,” Gunny observes.

“It makes a fantastic bribe,” Alice says. “Piers has — well, had, there’s no guarantee he hasn’t given it all away — a fantastic supply of it. I’ve picked up that much from simply being around him.”

“She’s not wrong,” Fahrn says. “The only thing you’d need is someone to buy it from you. Or you could keep it and use it for yourself, of course. You wouldn’t need to refuel for years. I have a crate with your name on it — on Lonely Palms Island.”

“Hmm,” Mal says. He glances to Gunny briefly, but as good as Alice has gotten at interpreting their silence communication, she’s not sure what the look says. “Why not ask one of the locals to do it?”

Fahrn shifts uncomfortably. “There aren’t many freighters in the Tuanakis large as yours, and yours is certainly the largest in port now,” he says, though the Nameless is by no imagination large. “Not to mention that not many locals would take this cargo, and especially not from me…”

Mal narrows his eyes. “Why not?”

“Because they think the elixir is — cursed. And they’re not exactly the biggest fans of elves, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I had,” Mal says dryly. “But why do they think the elixir’s cursed?”

“Because of what it’s done to these islands,” Fahrn says. “Once, back when the Tuanakis were somewhere that the Company actually shipped to — back when they were prosperous — the goldenfish elixir was just a made-up story. A magical golden elixir that could cure all ills. Mystic women would sell little bottles of ‘elixir’ that was usually brandy and lemon water and everyone would pretend that it would fix everything that was wrong with them. There was a part of the story that was told of the Lost Tuanaki Island, the one where the wellspring of this golden elixir could be found. It was all such preposterous nonsense. Humans will believe the most ridiculous things.”

“Then what, exactly, is in our hold? Brandy and lemon water?”

“That’s just it,” Fahrn says. “A few decades ago, back when I was in school, we accidentally figured it out. Alemein was trying to replicate the iridescence of goldenfish scales in a paint. In some sort of over-exuberant demonstration, he got some of his batch on one of Hedgewick’s miniature automata. It stained the brass a brilliant gold the places it touched… but it also made the brass impervious to pretty much everything we could throw at it.”

“That doesn’t exactly sound like a bad thing,” Alice says. “So why make us drag this elixir all over kingdom come?”

“Because that’s just what it did to brass. When it got into a human… One of Alemein’s students spilled a fair bit on herself, and she went stark raving mad in the span of three days. Then she jumped from the roof of the school and died.”

Fahrn’s tone is incredibly matter-of-fact, but that doesn’t stop Alice from flinching.

“I’m still not following,” Mal says. “What does this have to do with the cargo we have?”

“What you have is a much more refined version of that first ‘goldenfish elixir’,” Fahrn says. “Needless to say, after Lily’s death, Hedgewick and Alemein decided to keep their discovery under wraps. Or, at least, Hedgewick did. Alemein wanted to keep working on it — he was convinced he’d figure out a way to mix it that would allow them to use it on people. You see, Alemein was convinced it would give people magic.”

Alice wonders abruptly if they have fallen from the sky, for she certainly feels the deck drop out from beneath her feet. “Magic?” she repeats incredulously.

“You can’t be serious,” Mal says.

“I can be as serious as I want to,” Fahrn says. “And right now, I want to be very, very serious. Alemein wasn’t the only one who was convinced the goldenfish elixir would give people magic. He had a student, Tanner, who was equally taken up in the whole thing. I thought they were both a bit mad, Tanner especially for continuing the search after it killed Alemein, but it certainly looks like someone figured out how to turn it into something that could be used on people.”

“How can you be sure?” Gunny asks. “If Alemein and Tanner were researching it, and Alemein is dead…”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Tanner found someone he could sell his secrets to,” Fahrn says darkly. “He was always a bit desperate — he hadn’t come from money, but he lived like he had. Which meant he had plenty of people he owed money. Some knew more about what he did than others — so I’m sure someone got him to tell them what he knew. If it could be used to pay off a debt, I’m sure Tanner wouldn’t have hesitated to tell anyone what he’d sworn to Alemein to keep secret.”

“But this isn’t the stuff he made,” Alice says. “You said this is… better?”

Fahrn makes a face. “Better is probably not the right word… I doubt there is a ‘better’ with goldenfish elixir. It’s too volatile, too… weird, frankly. This batch looks pretty stable, all things considered — or, perhaps Rhai simply didn’t get quite enough of it to do anything. Either way, what’s happened to her palm… I’ve only seen something like that happen once before, and it was to the girl I mentioned, who’d gotten it spilled on herself. Everywhere it touched her skin, it had turned hard and… well, golden.”

“But Rhai’s gonna be okay, right?” Alice asks “I mean, she only got a little on herself, so she’s not gonna — go crazy. Right?”

Fahrn gives her the same odd look he’d given her before. “Why do you care?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why do you care? You’re asking like Rhai is — someone to you. And she’s not.”

“She’s my sister.”

“Alice,” Mal says warningly, though she can’t imagine why. It’s not like anything she’s said is wrong.

“So you share some blood — some, not all of it, mind. What’s that matter to you? You’re not… dying, are you?”

Alice gives him a confused look. “No,” she says. “Why, is she?”

“No,” Fahrn says.

“Good. Sorry I asked about the well-being of a sister I’ve only just met.”

“You act like you know her already.”

Alice shifts uncomfortably. “She’s twelve, right?”

Fahrn nods.

“She reminds me of another sister I have — another half-sister, since the distinction seems to matter to you so much.”

“And that sister’s dead?”

“What?! No! I mean, I don’t think so…”

The truth is, she doesn’t know — and like when Fahrn asked about her mother, it’s making Alice surprisingly regret leaving her family behind. Of course, this wouldn’t be the first time for that feeling — she’s tried to go back — but she’s annoyed she can’t even keep track of her old life enough to know whether anyone is dead.

“Why are you so convinced everyone in Alice’s life is dead?” Gunny asks. The question is startling, but Alice appreciates it — it’s only one of many things that have been plaguing her about this conversation, and she’s just glad that she doesn’t have to do the work of asking about every single one of them.

“Because that’s the main reason elves hunt each other down. There are certain things that can only be passed down to family members, so an elf who knows he’s dying might seek out blood kin.”

“And don’t those same ‘blood kin’ want to search out whoever it is that originally has what’s being passed on?” Gunny asks.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“They’re not always good things,” Mal says. “In fact, they’re usually not.”

“What are they then?” Alice asks. “Family curses?”

It’s a joke, but Mal and Fahrn both give her serious looks. “You could say that,” Fahrn says.

“Look, I don’t have any family curse to give you,” Alice says. “I just thought you might, you know, care. That I exist.”

“Oh, yes, I care very much,” Fahrn says dryly. “Now, have we settled the matter of transporting the elixir?

Mal gives Alice a long look, like he’s trying to determine what she’s thinking without actually being able to read her mind. “Should we expect to meet more welcoming parties like Headstone’s?” he asks Fahrn, turning back to face him.

“Ah,” Fahrn says, rather carefully. “That depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you plan to make any stops between here and Lonely Palms. Not all the Tuanakis are quite as welcoming as you’d expect, coming from the main belt.”

“Right,” Mal says. “In that case, Gunny—“

“No.”

“You haven’t even heard what I’m going to say,” he protests.

“I don’t need to,” Gunny says. “You want me to act captain til we get out of here. And my answer is, no. I meant it when I signed on, and I mean it now.”

Mal sighs. “Fine. We’ll just have to stock up so we don’t have to stop. Which I can’t exactly say I’m thrilled with, but it’ll do.” He sighs, and then begins digging around in the drawers of his desk. “Fahrn, could you point Gunny to town?” He pulls out a purse and tosses it to Gunny, who catches it easily. “Check with Den before you go but I think the only thing we need is food. Get enough for the four of us for a month. We’ll need to be prepared.”

Gunny nods and ducks out of the cabin. Only after she’s gone does Alice realize that she didn’t protest Mal’s implication that Alice would be sticking around for a while.

At Mal’s pointed look, Fahrn follows Gunny out of the cabin. However, on the threshold, he pauses. “When you get to Lonely Palms, ask for Mortimer. Anyone there should be able to point you to the Academy. He’ll know my name, but the others might not.”

“And they’ll let us dock?”

Fahrn nods. “They’re a little less wary of strangers on Lonely Palms than Headstone. I’m pretty sure they’ll let you dock.”

“Pretty sure?” Mal repeats.

“The last time I visited, they didn’t quite feel the need to investigate the identity of every person who arrived in their docks. However, it’s been a few years since then, so I can’t be entirely sure…”

“Lovely,” Mal says. “Well, go on. Or were you going to ask to come along with us?”

Fahrn doesn’t answer at first. “You could get there days before me.”

Mal sighs. His suggestion hadn’t been entirely serious, and now he’s in a bit of a pickle. Eventually, he says, “Cabin’s occupied. But if Gunny’s okay with it you can hang a hammock in the hold.”

“Thank you,” Fahrn says.

“Don’t thank me til you’ve gotten Gunny on your side,” Mal says. “And you’ll have to bring your own food.”

“Of course,” Fahrn says. Then, he ducks out of the cabin, closing the door behind him. Once he’s gone, Mal collapses into his desk chair. He buries his face in his hands and mumbles something incoherent.

“What was that?” Alice asks. She’s nearly finished putting everything away — she doesn’t know specifically where everything goes in Mal’s chest, but she figures at least getting it all inside is a vast improvement to how they’d found it.

“Just wondering when the Nameless transformed herself into a passenger cruiser,” he says. It’s muffled by his hands, but he’s at least audible.

“Well, Fahrn’ll only be with us a week…”

“Unless he expects to be returned here,” Mal says. “But we should be back on the main belt within a month, and then you can find a proper job.”

“Oh,” Alice says. Suddenly all of her excitement sparked by their conversation on goldenfish elixir has vanished, and the threat of figuring out what she wants to do with the rest of her life looms over her. She tries to push it away, to little avail. Well, now is as good a time as any, she thinks. “About that…”

Mal looks up from his hands, turning to face Alice. He folds his arms in front of him on the desk. “Yes?”

“So… I know this is a bit of a selfish request, and I will totally understand if you say no, but at least wait to say it until I’ve made my case, alright? I know the Nameless is a small ship, and you and Gunny seem to be handling her just fine, and I’m sure it’d be valuable to learn to sail on a larger one, but the truth is, all I really want to know is how to sail a ship this size so that when I eventually obtain one of my own, I’ll know what to do. So, I was wondering. Would you be willing to — I mean, could I sign on with you? Instead of with some other random captain I meet in Huana? I understand if you don’t want me to, but—”

Mal slowly raises his hand and Alice abruptly stops talking. Surprisingly, the first word out of Mal’s mouth isn’t no — but it isn’t yes, either. “What’s your plan for obtaining that ship?”

Alice blushes a little, and then shrugs. She’s hesitant to answer, more because this is something she hasn’t really shared with anyone else. “I hadn’t thought that far, to be honest,” she says. “I only ever, well, daydreamed about it.”

“And where did you go with this ship that you dreamt of?”

Alice shrugs. “All sorts of places,” she says. “Mostly, wherever I was trying to go next. It took a fair bit of time to track down everyone who lead me to Hedgewick. But, sometimes…” After another lead had turned up nothing, she means, but she isn’t about to say that aloud. It sounds far too pitiful. “Sometimes, I’d imagine what it would be like to visit every single one of the belt islands.”

“There are some ships that do that, you know,” Mal says. Alice gives him a strange look. He’s hinting at something, she knows, but she can’t tell what — and the fact that she can’t is bugging her. “Sail from one continent to the other, and then back again. Or maybe deep into the continent, even.”

“Sure,” Alice says. “It’s a fair bit harder to be an independent merchant on the continents, but I get what you’re saying. There’s a whole lot to see out there — and I definitely want to. But…” She shrugs. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’ve finally found my father. I was hoping to have something a little bit… familiar. If I could manage it.”

Mal quietly stares at Alice for a few minutes. Surprisingly, she doesn’t find it unsettling. He’s just — intent, trying to read something in her appearance that she probably wouldn’t be able to articulate if she tried. “It’s not easy, you know,” he says finally.

“What isn’t?”

“Sailing. You won’t get a good night’s sleep again, and there’s a lot to learn. The thing about a ship small as the Nameless is that we’ve all got to do everything.”

“If it were easy, everyone and their uncle would do it,” Alice says. “And if you’re trying to scare me off, you’re doing a poor job of it.”

“No, just trying to give you a picture of what you’re really signing yourself up for here. It’s not all happy fluffy dreams of seeing a new place every day.”

Alice crosses her arms angrily across her chest. “I’m not a child,” she protests. “I know it’s hard. I’ve learned hard things before. Just cause I can pick a lock well now doesn’t mean I always could.”

“Sailing has a fair bit more physical labor involved.”

“As does most of the real thievery I’ve done.” The comment gets her an unusual look for Mal, and she realizes, suddenly, that he isn’t nearly as much a part of Benny’s circle as she’d thought. He’s just an elf with a fast ship that doesn’t care too much what cargo he transports. “Look, I… I’m not sure we want to get into this right now, but it appears that there is rather a fair bit about my past that you would not understand. And I’m not really asking you to. I just want you to believe me when I say that the physical labor isn’t the part of learning to sail that I’m worried about, however much it may look like I’ve done none in my life.”

Mal frowns. “How do you know I wouldn’t understand?”

She looks him over. There’s something just a little bit too — trusting, in his look. Like he’d believe anything she said, no matter what it was. And that’s where the problem is. “Go on, then,” she says. “Ask me about my past.”

“What’s there to ask about?” he asks. “You’ve told me what matters — you ran away, you went looking for your father. It’s taken you years to get here — having met your father. And now we’re arguing over what you should do next.”

Alice raises her eyebrows. She’s not entirely sure they’re arguing, not yet. “And how, exactly, did you think I bankrolled the four years of searching for my father? I gotta say, this latest trip I booked as ‘cargo’ was my cheapest yet. It’s not always easy to secure a spot on a ship where the men will actually leave you alone, not when everyone thinks you’re a helpless little girl all on your own.”

He sighs. “How did you pay for it all, then?”

“Running jobs for Benny.”

Mal narrows his eyes — the facts simply aren’t lining up for him. “You don’t have a ship,” he says.

“No, but someone needs to get the cargo. And some of the cargo — especially the more interesting cargo — has to be… liberated. From previous owners who are less than willing to part with it.”

“You’re telling me that you paid for the last four years of traveling far and wide across the islands by stealing.”

She shrugs. “It’s got a fair payoff, if you don’t get caught. And it’s fun! Plus, I’ve gotten to see some wicked stuff. For example, did you know that—”

“It’s ‘fun’?”

Alice shifts uncomfortably. “Yeah,” she says. “If it makes you feel better, I mostly only steal from people who can afford to lose it.”

“Mostly?”

“If it were up to me, I would only take from the folk who won’t miss it. But when I’m around, Benny sends me on whatever he can, ‘cause I’m one of his best. Certainly when there are locked doors between us and whatever we’re trying to get. And I’m a fair hand at climbing as long as I’ve got a wall.”

“Right,” Mal says.

“Look, I don’t care what you think about all that,” she says, though it’s a terrible lie. “I just want to know if I can hire on with you, or if you want me off when we get to Huana. Or, well, maybe you want me to get off now, after—”

“You can stay,” he says quickly.

“For now, or past Huana?”

“Both.”

A grin breaks out over Alice’s features. “Really? You mean it?”

“Yes,” Mal says. “I assume you want to hear the terms?”

“Terms?”

“You’ll get two meals a day and half share of profits until you can run your own watch. Then you’ll get a whole share. Profits are split five ways — you, me, Gunny, Den, and the Nameless.”

“The Nameless gets a share to herself?”

“We’ve gotta pay for fuel and repairs somehow. Unless you’d like to offer to pay for that yourself?”

“No, I’m just — surprised.”

Mal nods. “There’s a lot to learn, like I said. For now, I’m going to put you on watch with Gunny.”

“Why not you?”

“So you don’t get distracted by my pretty face,” he says with a grin. The truth isn’t quite that — it’s really he who doesn’t want to be distracted by her, but he’s not about to say that. Even if she can probably figure it out herself. “Plus, it’s a bit hard to share the bunk if we both need it at the same time.”

“It’s just a different kind of sharing,” Alice says, before she can think it through. Mal raises his eyebrows at her, and she finds herself blushing. “Never mind,” she mutters quickly.

“Anyway, you’ll be on watch with Gunny til you’ve got one to yourself.”

“When’ll that be?”

“Month or so, probably. Depends on how long we stay on this Lonely Palms Island we’re headed to. You’ll need time to actually spend some time sailing.”

“You think we’re gonna be stuck on Lonely Palms a month?”

Mal shrugs. “I don’t know how long it’ll take. It might take some time to get the cargo where it’s supposed to be… and I wouldn’t mind learning another thing or two about this cargo we’re carrying.”

“What’s there left to know?” Alice asks. “We already know what it is.”

“We do?”

“Liquid magic.”

Her tone is impressively nonchalant, given what she says. Mal just stares at her blankly for an instant. “Is that really what you want to call it?” he asks.

“Why, do you have a better idea of what to call it?”

“No, not really. It just sounds…”

“Utterly preposterous?”

Mal grins. “A little, yeah.”

“Well, at least we can agree on that. I happen to think the side-effects Fahrn was describing were utterly preposterous as well. But then, I never really saw what Rhai’s hand looked like…”

“She’ll be fine,” Mal says, in a way that makes Alice suspect that is distinctly not the truth. “Anyway. Are you really telling me that since you’ve called it liquid magic you don’t care about understanding how it works?”

She shrugs. “I mean, it’d be interesting, sure,” she says. “But I just — I don’t know. Why would you want to stick around on a backwater island just to learn about some weird stuff that someone told you has some fairly magical properties?”

“Because I’d like to know how it’s made. Find out who has some, who wants some. That kind of thing. If it does do what it’s supposed to, then we could make a killing with this cargo.”

Alice crosses her arms. “So why not sell it, if you’re so intent on that?”

“Because who knows if it’s actually worth anything? We’ll deliver this shipment and then snoop around a little. After all, information is the most valuable currency a man can get his hands on.”

Something about the phrase sets warning bells pealing in Alice’s mind. It’s something that she’s heard before, that phrase, she’s sure of it. But — where? And why is it making a pit form in her stomach?

“Right,” she says. “I, uh. I’d better go see if Gunny needs any help.”

And before Mal can say anything else, she has slipped from the cabin. He knows by her abrupt departure that he’s done something wrong, but he can’t fathom what. So instead he simply gets on with the task of sorting his paper records back into some semblance of order.