Phasoné sat on an invisible chair in the middle of the void with one of her knees tucked up to her chin. She clapped her hands together as soon as Vayra appeared in the void, though, then jumped to her feet.

Vayra stopped right in front of Phasoné. “Alright…” She sighed, hardly paying attention. “What do we need to do?”

“Get rid of the boots. And the cloak. Roll up your breeches a little, and lose the stockings.” Phasoné walked in a circle around Vayra, scratching her chin. “Keep the chest-wrap, I guess.” The Goddess paused halfway around and pulled open a slice of the void. She retrieved a pair of sandals—like the ones she wore all the time—then tossed them at Vayra. “That’ll do the trick. Get a straw hat from the sailors, so you don’t burn yourself. Or…wait, phoenixes don’t get sunburnt, do you?”

“Shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Ah, perfect! Don’t worry about it, then!”

Dropping her arms, Vayra sighed. “I…suppose this’ll work.” She knelt down dutifully and started unlacing her boots. “Just give me a second.”

Phasoné snapped her fingers. A wash of willpower encased the Goddess, followed by a faint pull. She asserted a Godly authority over the starlight, and the dress that she wore—apparently, some sort of great treasure—transformed into a tied-up tunic and a pair of short breeches in an instant.

Vayra’s face heated up, and she looked down at the ground, hoping to hide the blush.

With a sigh, Phasoné dropped down to a crouch beside Vayra. “Looking away isn’t going to hide anything from me.”

“I know.” Vayra finished unlacing her boots then pulled her stockings off. “Look, I didn’t ever…uh, date anyone before, either. I don’t know how to do that, Phas, or really what any of these feelings mean aside from awkward. You’re just…really pretty, and I’m…well—”

Phasoné laid a hand on Vayra’s shoulder. “You’ll figure it out. Just…relax, have fun, and don’t think too hard, alright?”

“Alright.” Vayra stood up and unclasped her cloak, then slipped into the sandals. Still, something buzzed in her stomach.

“Now get out of here. Scram.”

Vayra opened her eyes and wrenched herself out of the void. She was still standing on the sandy shore of the cove, sun beating down on her, and it was starting to get warm—even for a phoenix. She ran down to the water and waded up to her hips, then began to swim a lap of the cove.

It had been a while since she swam last. She and Bremi had taught themselves in the Bay of Tavelle, of course, but they’d only ever used it to escape angry merchants or Helpers. Vayra stopped in the center of the cove and began to tread water.

The Harmony floated just ahead, its golden ornaments glistening. All the sails were furled, and more of the crew was disembarking to the shore.

She turned around, ready to swim back. As soon as she turned around, a wave splashed her in the face.

Bremi.

He treaded right behind her, having snuck up. “Sis! Get back to shore—”

“Why?” Vayra gasped, her eyes widening. She cycled Arcara, ready to fight. “What’s wrong?”

“N—nothing!” Bremi pushed himself back a few feet, sculling with his hands. “We’re setting up a game of Velle-ball. I’ve got my team—me, Mr. Beason, and Mr. Ellers—but we need someone to play against.” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. On the shore, two of the other midshipmen, human boys, waited. They had set up a makeshift net with driftwood and tied-together navy coats. Glade helped them pack sand around the base.

“Well…I suppose we’ll need Glade,” Vayra said. He had gotten rid of his coat, tunic, and stockings as well.

“Oh, he’s playing, whether he wants to or not!” Bremi chirped. “Come on, sis!” He spun away in the water and began to swim back to the shore.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

They swam back to the shore and walked up the beach. Bremi pointed to Glade, then said, “You’re with sis.”

The two other midshipmen ran to the other side of the makeshift net with Bremi.

“Apologies,” said Glade, “but I don’t know the rules.”

Vayra shifted her weight nervously. Velle-ball was, as far as she knew, a game that hadn’t spread far from Decathe in terms of notoriety. She herself had never played before, and as far as she knew, Bremi had only played once or twice.

“There should be a ball of some kind…” she said. “Ah! There!” She pointed to the other side of the net, where one of the midshipmen was bouncing a thick leather ball up and down. “Hit it to the other side of the court. If it touches the ground, they get a point. We get four bumps on our side before we have to pass it back over the net.”

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“We are going to need a third player,” Glade said.

First, Vayra looked around to see if Nathariel was anywhere nearby, but he wasn’t. Even if he had been, it probably would have been unfair to have him on any team.

‘Vayra?’ Phasoné cleared her throat, audible even inside Vayra’s mind. ‘I can join up…’

As if an Admiral wasn’t unfair, a Goddess—or Emissary, whatever she called herself—would be even worse.

But already, Phasoné had drawn the light out of Vayra’s scarf and formed up beside her. “I’ll have plenty of hobbling—I’ll be stuck in a short range of you, not to mention this form is only about as agile as a human anyways. Until—”

“—until I get stronger, yeah,” Vayra finished. To everyone, she asked, “That good?”

Bremi and the midshipmen nodded, as did Glade.

“Heads up, sis!” Bremi yelled, then served the ball across the court.

“Hey!” she hissed, sprinting across the sand and getting into position. She dove to bump the ball up with her wrist. It was harder than it looked, and it stung when it hit her skin, but she still managed to push it up enough. Glade knocked it over to Phasoné’s ghostly white projection. The Goddess sent it flying back over the net in a smooth arc.

“We are not allowed to catch it, correct?” Glade asked.

“Nope,” Vayra replied as the boys on the other side stabilized the ball and prepared to knock it back over. She jumped back to her feet, and only once she was standing did she realize how easy that had been. Her mechanical leg twanged, and sparks of Arcara poured out, but the controlling pulses had been instinctual.

She stayed standing as Glade intercepted the ball. He bumped it over to Phasoné, who sent it flying up with a punch.

As the ball began to fall, Vayra jumped up and intercepted it. She swung her mechanical arm, trying to spike the ball down, but her fingers accidentally clenched at the last minute, and she ended up only giving the ball a glancing tap. It drifted over the net slowly.

Still wasn’t perfect control…

Bremi intercepted the ball and flung it back. Phasoné bumped it up first, aiming for Vayra, but Vayra’s legs tangled when she landed, and she tripped over a ridge of sand.

If she used a Bracing technique to catch the ball, she might have made it in time, but she stopped herself.

Nathariel’s words rang out in her mind. You are too reliant on your magic—to the point that you’re losing focus of your surroundings.

She let the ball bounce off the sand just in front of her fingers. Bremi and the midshipmen cheered, giving each other high-fives. Exhaling, Vayra pushed herself up and faced the rest of her team. “Sorry. I should have—”

“Vayra,” Phasoné whispered. “It’s just a game.”

Vayra let out another tight breath. “Right.” Still, there was no reason not to take Nathariel’s advice.

She crouched down and pressed her hand into the sand, looking for the largest ridges and hazards that her prosthetic leg would need extra help navigating.

“Don’t think about it too much,” Phasoné said, standing right behind Vayra. The Goddess had needed mechanical limbs too due to the nature of their bond, but she seemed to have perfect control of them already. “Let them move on their own, and they will. Your Arcara flow is starting to become second nature, and your prosthetics rely on Arcara flow.”

Vayra paused for a second. “Just…relax, and let it move?”

“That’s precisely the idea. Have fun, and forget about everything for the moment. I think you’ll find your limbs work a lot better that way…”

Bremi served the ball again, and the next rally began. After a few passes back and forth, Glade set the ball up perfectly, and she slammed it down onto the other side of the court. Glade and Phasoné met her with a cheer. At first, it looked like Glade was going to give her a professional handshake and salute, but he shook his hand out and instead gave her a high-five. Phasoné followed suit.

All afternoon, they passed the ball back and forth across the court. Vayra only used Arcara to control the leg, and nothing more. The longer they went and the more tired she got, the less she thought about the limb.

When Glade dove for the ball and got a mouthful of sand, they all broke into laughter—even though he had missed the bump. After that, she was too busy laughing with the others to think about the limbs.

When the sun began to dip down below the edge of the cove’s wall, Bremi called, “We’re even! Tied! Next point wins!”

Phasoné served the ball, as their team had won the last point. The ball flew low across the net. Bremi blocked, and another one of the midshipmen returned it.

Vayra raised a hand and jumped just in front of the net, pushing it back over the other way. One of the midshipmen blocked right away, and they had a quick rally of back-and-forth bumps before the ball flew high.

“Backing away?” Vayra called.

“Don’t let your guard down, sis!” Bremi shouted back. He deflected a powerful spike from Glade. The first midshipman set the ball up, and the second launched it over—all the way to the back of the sandy court.

Lunging, Phasoné’s ghostly white apparition blocked the ball and flung it back up. She lost her balance, though, and tumbled through the sand, until she reached the limit of her range away from Vayra and thudded against an invisible wall.

Glade bumped the ball up again, setting Vayra up for a final strike. She hit it with the heel of her mechanical hand, flinging it just over the brink of the net. It shot through the sand beside Bremi.

“Last point!” she cheered. Phasoné ran back to Vayra and caught her in a hug, but Vayra wasn’t expecting the force, and they both tumbled to the ground. Even Glade cheered a little.

Vayra flopped onto her back and splayed her arms out to the side, panting. But she still spared a moment to lift her head and wish the boys a “Good game!” before dropping back onto the sand. Phasoné rolled over onto her back and stared up at the darkening sky, and Glade ran over and sat down beside them.

Vayra didn’t move for a few minutes. She watched the sky transition from turquoise to blue and tried to pinpoint every new star that appeared.

When the sky overhead turned a deep shade of blue, and the horizons glimmered with the last purples of sunset, water began to whoosh.

Which it didn’t normally do.

Vayra pushed herself up to a sitting position and glanced around. The pitcher plants were starting to tip, and waterfalls poured over the edge of the cove. The water began to rise up the beach.

She glanced over at Glade, then back at Phasoné. “The lock is filling! It’s time to get going!”