Having spent the summer floating around Coral Bay, Joe had gotten his telescopic sight down pat. He could flip between his regular sight and the falcon-like vision in a heartbeat. He had not only mastered the fish-eye lenses he needed for underwater, but Joe could combine the two, allowing him to see below the water’s surface three times more clearly than someone could with a diving mask.

So, when Hah’roo shouted “Reefs, Ho,” from the crow’s nest, Joe was able to look where she was peering at through her telescope and zoom in on the location. Sure enough, breaking the ocean’s surface was a row of rocky teeth, with a scattering of small islands behind them about forty-five degrees off their starboard rail. The two biggest isles were green with vegetation. The rest were just bare points of stone that likely spent high tide barely above the water if they showed at all.

Ginjgaukk shouted, “Prepare to jibe,” from his station behind the ship’s wheel. To which the deck crew yelled back, “Ready.” With a final “Jibe ho!” the boat cut back across the water, aiming for their destination.

Joe had been trying to figure out if ‘Ho’ had a specific meaning for the last few days. ‘Now’ was the closest he had come up with, but even that wasn’t quite right. ‘Sail Ho,’ ‘Land Ho,’ and a few others like those used the word to mean ‘there’ or ‘in sight,’ but as it was called when something was spotted, ‘now’ kind of made sense to Joe. ‘Jibe Ho’ definitely meant ‘we’re doing it now.’ Then there was the oddball ‘Heave Ho,’ which could mean anything from ‘hoist the anchor’ to ‘pull in rhythm,’ even ‘toss it overboard.’

Setting aside any grammatical concerns, the purple-sailed cutter glided among the reefs with remarkable ease, guided by the kobold. His confidence in navigating the treacherous waters was evident, but on this trip, he had a sure thing. He led the ship on a clear path from the outer rocky edges right to the main island simply by following the distinctive black dorsal fin of their akhlut, who had been pacing the vessel all afternoon.

Reaching a tiny cove where they dropped anchor, Finn loosed a cocky-sounding trill from the waters.

“Yes, ye be thee bestest of boys,” RC intoned at the beast’s massive toothy smile as Joe gauntlet-grabbed a large fish for him as a reward. Purposefully overthrowing the mackerel, they watched the giant black chimera launch himself out of the water to snatch the hurled meal from the air. Landing on his side, Finn tossed up an impressive wall of water all around him.

“If you lot are done playing with that great galoot,” the captain hissed, “ye can help Bosko load Dorian’s chest aboard the dory.”

While the Jab was big enough that it would be an improbable target for the orcan sea-predators, akhluts were known to attack smaller ships. The crew of the cutter had looked at the powerful chimera that would be accompanying them with a heavy dose of wary concern.

“No need, Ginge,” Joe replied. “I checked, and the crate is lighter than it looks. Less than three hundred pounds, which means that I can carry it with these,” Joe stated, waving the glowing hand of force at the kobold captain. “I figured I’d just ride Finn over.”

“Suit yerself, boyo. Who else is going with you?” the small dragon replied, tossing Bosko a ‘don’t bother’ hand sign.

Turning to Earcellwen, Joe asked, “How about it, Princess? Want to meet an ex-noble lady of the fey?”

“You promised no more princesses, Joe.”

“But, but .. that time, it made sense as part of the connotation.”

“No more princesses! I can’t believe I managed to keep that a secret for four years until Sir Naeqen outed me in one fell swoop,” the archer groused. The noble elf had made that complaint several times already, but to be fair, Joe and Hah’roo had been joking around with her title all morning until she had made them swear to knock it off.

“Ok, sorry, RC. Anyway, you coming with?”

“I’m not sure. The house of Rhuival is not tightly aligned with either of the Feyland Courts. What if this specter takes offense at that? Dorian clearly wants you to meet her. I don’t want to mess that up.”

“I think you would be an asset regardless,” Joe retorted. “Who knows, having strong ties to the wrong court could be worse. Either way, you know the language and customs far better than I do. You might pick up on all sorts of things I would miss. I’d prefer to have you with me if you don’t mind.”

“Alright. That does make sense. Though I have to admit, I am a bit nervous to meet one of the bean sídhe. There are many, many tales of how their prophetic gifts lead to the doom of those their foretellings are given to.”

“Me too,” Joe agreed. ‘What about you, Bud? Staying? Coming? Remote?”

“Spirits will sense our presence, Joe. Think you should do this one without us. We’ll come if you want us to but we should either be all there or not at all. We don’t want her to think she is being snooped on.”

“Good point. Alright, why don’t you stay then? RC and I will take this one.” Joe and Yuk had spent so much time together that he could tell something was bothering his best friend. He did not want to take off if something was wrong. ‘Ok, what is bugging you, Bud? You’ve been edgy all morning.’

‘Just hate being this limited. We’ve absorbed all the roaches on the ship, so that means we have nowhere to draw on if we have to spend ourselves. We won’t be able to use most of our big abilities because they will need me to expend insects to invoke them. Aboard the Haven, we were always near enough to shore that we could reach reinforcements if needed. Way out here on the ocean, we’re stuck with what we’ve got, and there is no more.’

‘These islands have to be covered in bugs. Why not fill up here?’

‘All ready full enough. Just freaking a bit on what we’ll do if we have to spend our limited supply.’

‘Let me think on it, Bud. I have to admit, I never considered too few bugs an issue before.’

‘Welcome to my world, dude. Half the stuff you guys don’t have to worry about gives us grief: wind, water, heavy objects, pockets…’ Yuk mentally sighed before adding, ‘Focus on the banshee, Joe. We can figure out our stuff later.’

‘Ok. Dropping the connection. See ya later tonight.’

With the odd emptiness that came without having Yuk in the back of his head, Joe summoned a second hand and lifted the box out of the hold. The crate was large, about four feet long by three feet wide and tall. As he had already determined, whatever was in it was not heavy. Joe placed the box on the gunwale, where Bosko steadied it. After hopping down to Finn's back with RC, he grabbed the chest again and was ferried to shore by his companion.

Even this largest island was not terribly big. Joe estimated he could easily walk the whole shoreline in under an hour. With the exception of the cove where the ship was anchored, the borders of the small landmass were steep-sided cliffs rising a hundred feet above the ocean. The waves had cut into the stone, making most of the island look a bit like a giant green and gray mushroom perched on the sea.

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The fungal illusion was broken where they were headed. A long field of tall grass, oddly devoid of trees, swept down from the domed peak of the island to the pebbly beach. With his riders still on his back, Finn crunched across the stony strand and onto the field. Without warning, the chimera flopped over, giving Joe and RC scant seconds to dismount before the big brute rolled around on the grass, giving himself a good itching on the rough stems.

Leaving the big rubbery tank to enjoy himself, Joe opened the envelope tacked to the side of the grate addressed with his name on it and read the page within.

Mister Joe Morris,

I am assuming you will be the one to open this missive, as I made it expressly clear to the captain that you must lead the delivery of this crate. I am certain you have been wondering why I have been assisting you, clearly taking losses in our exchanges. Now that you are out of Fort Coral, I am willing to explain.

While prophecy can be a lazy man's crutch, only a fool does not avail himself of it when planning for the future. I scry the weeks, months, and years to come daily. Recently, I have noted an apparition of ill tidings approaching Fort Coral, one which stands to cost me substantial profits. The nature of this menace had been hidden from me until I finally was able to discern the obfuscation was your doing; you seem to possess an inherent opacity to divination. The fact that the threat is tied to you has made its nature frustratingly difficult to expose.

After weeks of intense prognosis, I am only certain of one facet of the tribulation to come; the best chance I have of averting its ruinous arrival is for you to succeed in your intended confrontation with the cult-leader Tarkik in Otter Slough. How these two events are connected, I have no idea, thanks to your irritatingly secretive disposition. The only fact I was able to glean from my auguries was that you will fail in your quest without a conference with the Ghost of the Wailing Teeth. Hence, this gift to Molligan Mae, the Sea Banshee.

So it behooved me to do what was in my power to ensure your success, of course, without directly tying my fate to yours. I hope you understand there is nothing personal about my distancing. While I wholeheartedly wish for your victory, I will not tempt fate enough to be an active partner in your quest. This is why you are receiving these words in a dictated letter, never touched by my own hand; one can never be too careful when playing dice with Fate.

As for your gift to the Sea Banshee, the instructions are simple. Spread the material found within the chest smoothly across the top of her meadow at least an hour before the setting sun on a clear day. Wait in the Teeth, should the weather be uncooperative. The magic imparted into the mesh will do the rest.

Good luck and good speed, Master Morris.

“Well, that is surprisingly vague,” Joe stated, handing the page to Earcellwen.

“Except for the instructions part,” she countered. “It’s plenty sunny now.”

“Yeah. It says at least an hour, so it sounds like we can spread it early,” Joe stated, looking at the sun. It was well past the three-quarter mark, but that still meant they had several hours of daylight to go.

The lid slid sideways to reveal a fine netting made out of what looked like green silk strands. It was so precisely folded that it unraveled effortlessly as they lifted it from the crate. Realizing how easily the light material could tangle, Joe reconjured his gauntlets. He had them manage the crate, lifting and moving it away as he and RC each grabbed a corner. As they spread apart, the netting flowed out and billowed above the ground in the breeze coming off the ocean.

When it was finally all free, the force digits dropped the chest a little ways away and took up the far corners. Together, they draped the material across the field. Somehow, the mesh seemed to settle into the grass instead of hanging on top of it. Suddenly, it just seemed to vanish. Joe moved the stalks aside and found the threads tight against the ground, even though there seemed to be no way they could have naturally worked their way down to the ground so smoothly.

Even with the net seemingly safe, Earcellwen and Joe retreated down the slope to keep Finn from coming up to join them. Whatever the mesh’s function was, it surely would not benefit from a ton of taloned orca tromping on it.

It was nice to stretch their legs after a day aboard the ship, so the three started walking the circuit of the island. They had made it about two-thirds of the way around when they reached a stretch of dense tangles that reached the cliff’s edge and even hung downward with trailing thorny ropes. Even though the sun was still brightly lighting the sky, the space beneath the canopy of leaves was almost pitch black. The dense murk blocked even both his and her darkness-enhanced sight. The forest in front of them held unmistakable malice, so much so that they decided to walk all the way back the way they had come rather than chance entering the gloomy, dread-filled grove.

By the time they got back, the sun was setting. Finn set off to hunt while Joe and Earcellwen ate from their storage items. It was then they noticed the change to the field. Breaking up over the tops of the windswept grass were hundreds of tall stems adorned with pale blue buds. None had opened yet, but there were so many that the field would be utterly transformed once the flowers bloomed.

As darkness fell and the stars began to fill the sky, Dorain’s gift through Joe revealed itself. The buds opened, each glowing with the same blue-white glow of the starry heavens and the moon itself. Like sparks, minuscule motes of pollen fluttered around the pedals, turning the hillside into a fairy field of tiny dancing lights.

It was such a captivatingly lovely sight that the pair of them missed the arrival of the island’s sole resident.

“Tis a wonder and blessing ye have given unto me,” the hollow voice rang out from behind them. An icy chill followed the spectral words, sending a thrill of shivers down Joe’s spine. He turned to see a haunting figure hanging in the air behind them. Gossamer trails of what looked like veils of moonlight floated around her, exactly matching the blue blush radiating from the flowers.

She was beautiful and terrifying all at once. Her features were as perfect as the golden woman he had seen when he first met Corra Loigen. Her expression towards the newly manifested wildflowers was filled with delight, yet to look on her was to know fear. The same dread that issued from the dark woods seemed to ebb from her as well. She was a being so utterly steeped in the looming inevitability of death that every fiber of Joe’s body wanted to recoil from her.

He drew on all the mental resistances he could muster to still his pounding heart, casting [Spirit of the Pack] for Earcellwen. He then bowed deeply. He had no idea where the idea for this gesture came from, but he guessed it was likely just an attempt to avert his eyes from the banshee. He started to speak before returning upright, hoping his words would carry him through.

“Greeting Molly Mae. I am Joe, and this field is our gift to you. I understand you have been the savior to many a ship in these difficult waters. We hope you like it. Uh, Ercellwen and I.”

Joe wished he had had the foresight to actually think out what he wanted to say to her at that moment, but to be honest; he didn’t think that impromptu drivel was all that bad, at least until that end part.

“And praytell what be this odd collection the tide hath brought me,” the ghostly woman asked in her shudder-inducing voice. “An elven heiress of Cernunnos, yet one lacking the bindings of his court. A twisted atrocity of the first of ages, yet it bears a true and loyal heart. And lastly a mongrel that partakes of each and more. Fey, and chimera; man, and yet not as well. One so entwined in bindings of yon morrow that even I cannot quite see the path before him. I am as intrigued as I am besotted by thy gift. Come join me amongst thy radiant flowers, and we shall converse.”

As she glided into the middle of the field, Joe felt his hounds break free of the axe. He had kept them within the weapon that was their home to prevent Ranu and Finn from trampling the island in their endless game of ‘Chase me.’ It had never occurred to him that three ghostly wolfhounds could free themselves. The three spectral coursers rushed to Molly Mae, barking with joy and rubbing against her.

“A thri hardd Cŵn Annwn,” her voice lilted in wonder. “And ye bear a course of Ahnun’s noble hounds. This be no chance meet, Arwr Joe.”

“I don’t think it is either. I was told that something dreadful would happen if you and I did not speak. It seems we have much to talk about.”

“Then we shall have until the dawning light.” With the pups showing more respect than Joe had ever seen them, she moved into the middle of the field. At some point, Earcellwen had taken his hand in the overwhelming presence of the banshee, and he was grateful for it. They both exchanged wide eyed looks and a comforting squeeze before following.