Cira had to elongate the Salty Songstress to make it more comfortable for everyone—except for her, that is. Three young women in white shirts seemed intent on glaring at her the entire trip back to Uru.

“Are you really just gonna drag them like that?!” They would ask.

“Naturally,” Cira would reply.

The third metal prison for the big guy used around ten times the amount of metal as the others and dragging him along made for quite the noticeable increase in mana cost. The smuggling geomancer stared at them from where he sat with the sleeping goons, thanking his scruples for sparing him a similar fate. One small misstep and he could have been dead or dragged for miles. His captor was even kind enough to share her ale with him, albeit in a rather small cup.

“So, tell me,” He shuddered when her voice was aimed at him, “What’s a mage like you doin’ running with a guy like Don? Your technique is laughable, but surely you have better prospects than that guy.”

The sponge maidens had grown weary of speaking up every single time she insulted Don.

“I… I was a smuggler first.” He replied meekly, “I found the book among some things I… found—”

Cira waved him off, “So you stole a spell book. Could’ve guessed as much. No need to mince words, your punishment is already set in stone.”

The man gulped, “My… my punishment? What are you gonna do to me?”

“First,” she held up a finger, “You will forfeit all the information you have on Don’s operations. Assuming that goes well, you will join the ranks of my exorcists.”

“Exorcists…?” While Geosmuggler was struggling to comprehend, it was Delilah who spoke with a curious tone. The man sputtered before finally getting some words out.

“What do you mean exorcists?!” His strangely sober eyes were wild, “You’re telling me to be one?!”

“All will be clear in time. What’s your name by the way? If you don’t tell me, I’ll likely come up with a rather poor one.”

“Uh… It’s Lant…” trying to shirk her attention, he slowly drank from his extra-small glass.

“Okay, Lant. The only thing I really care about is where those red rocks were going. Since you’re the resident geomancer, you must know something, right?”

“No, not really…” He paused as a stray nymph fluttered around his face before disappearing into the wall. Once they started on their way back to Uru, the nymphs had basically resumed their previous routine of lazily following the ship. He continued after noticing Cira was expecting more out of him, “I just dug holes and fought people, that’s all. Don didn’t let anybody useful near the stuff—” he choked after seeing the look on her face—she did not like that, “I mean… You really should talk to Juan, I’m just a grunt.”

Watching him shrug, Cira sighed deeply, “So be it.” She lifted his cage up and floated it around, making it hover just in front of the bow, illuminated by the angel’s light. The area around the head slowly receded to show a sleeping pirate, quite wounded. “Juan! Juan, wake up!” She jiggled the cage around.

“Huh?!” There was panic is his eyes as soon as he opened them, “What the hell’s going on… You?! Why can’t I move?!”

He jerked around to no avail, grunting and shouting obscenities, before ultimately looking down at Cira with unbridled rage. She took offense to that, “You want to know a secret, Juan?”

“What? They hell you tryin’ to say, wench?” He spat, and it whizzed past his own face with such force it dented the wall behind him.

“Believe it or not, for one such as I, repairing lost limbs is an impossible feat,” Everybody looked at her, especially Juan, with apprehension, “But a finger or two, no problem.”

“Wh—what are you trying to say?” Juan timidly demanded.

“I’m saying Don sold you out with his first breath. How many fingers will you lose before you feel like talking? Five…? Fifty?”

“Damn, Cap’n,” Jimbo looked impressed, “You’re cold blooded.”

“You wouldn’t!” One of the sponge maidens shrunk back, and them plus half her crew held a look of horror. Of course, the sponge maiden was right. Torture was in poor taste. But the implication of torture was a cunning interrogation tactic. Ethical for use only on real bad guys.

“Cira—Cirina, you can’t do that!” Delilah now looked up at her with scared eyes.

“I can,” She replied coolly, then looked to the sponge maiden, “and I would.” Cira then took a sip of her ale and savored it. Nina landed on the brim of her hat and gazed up at Juan.

Juan went through a rollercoaster of emotions as they twisted and turned through the tunnels, retracing their path with him now leading the way. He was defiant in the beginning, but with each passing moment the rugged defense broke down. Eventually he started cursing to himself and getting angry, “You’re right! That bastard did sell me out, didn’t he? What the hell was that about, Don?!”

He shouted back behind them, but of course there was no response, “In any other situation I’d pull him up and let you ask him, but I’m not a fan of Don. He’ll have to stay back there.”

“Juan, no!” Cira was really regretted bringing Don’s maidens aboard.

“Don’t do it! What about your bond?” Another cut in.

“What about it?!” Juan snarled, “He’s the one that told her I knew allllll about it! Maybe he wanted me to tell her. Huh?! How ‘bout it, Don?! Say something if you don’t want me to tell her!”

He glared angrily behind the boat. Cira cupped her hand and leaned back towards the tow-behind prisoners. “I don’t hear anything. I suppose that’s Don’s answer. Now then…” she gave Juan a serious look.

““Noo-”” the chorus began, but Cira cut them off with the kind of glare that said, ‘I will put you in a cage and drag you too’.

“What do you want to know…?” Juan finally asked.

This finally put a grin on the sorcerer’s face, “Tell me where the deritium is going. That’s all I want to know.”

With the girls glaring at him, he reluctantly answered, “It all goes to Hangman’s Cove… There’s more Black Scourge up there. We’re working with Captain Brown to ship it who knows where.”

“How could you?!” The feisty maiden was in tears.

“That’s everything we worked for—”

“Enough.” Cira threw her voice with wind magic and startled everyone on the boat, “Another word about it and you three and you’re going back there.” She jerked her head towards Don and the big one.

Finally, at long last, they shut up. What in the world was I thinking, bringing them along?

My fleet is larger than I ever imagined. Wherever this Hangman’s Cove place is. I know their supply is cut off, and there’s no way I can track down all the deritium that’s been sent out. I think I’ll have to concede that my role in the matter will end with Fount Salt.

“What about us, though?” At the pitch of the voice Cira jerked her head over with a scowl, but it was one of the sponge maidens she had hardly heard yet. A nervous girl with ashen blonde hair and a curvy figure.

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Looking up at Juan, she closed the metal around his head again, “That will be all. See you in Uru.” And despite his protests, he rejoined the others.

She then reeled in the irritation for a moment and continued speaking with the girl, “While your position within the Black Scourge is confusing to me, your prospects are a little better than these hooligans,” she nodded her head back at the ones being loudly towed behind the Salty Songstress. “You could become exorcists as well, or perhaps even Lorelai’s assistants.”

Delilah spit the beer from her mouth, “Pfffff, me?! Wait, really? Them?” She smacked her lips like rolling the thought around gave her an unpleasant taste. “Why?”

“There will be much work in the coming days, sorry to say. Besides, their mana’s not the worst, so why not them?”

“Assistants for what?” The frail one with the attitude now gave Cira the stink eye.

“All in due time.” She squinted at her, “There’s no use getting into it now, but if you’d rather join Don at whichever prison he ends up in, I suppose now would be the time to speak up.”

The three looked at her, frustrated. They didn’t want to be locked away, but their futures were uncertain. It was only natural they would be nervous with how little information Cira offered.

Aside from the interrogation, her crew had returned to their usual state of merriment while nobody had to sit at the helm for the return trip. The Salty Songstress was capable of retracing a path it’s already taken with a word. In a sense, the Salty Songstress was the very cutting edge of sorcery and an egregious waste of mana.

This feature was convenient though, as the sorcerer didn’t really know where the deritium was or where they were going. But she could return to it on her ship. There were no worries on Cira’s mind as they approached Uru. Fount Salt posed a real challenge and she almost had to heed her father’s advice. However, Cira didn’t like giving up. She’d put in a lot of work over the last few days and the people here were almost self-sufficient.

Once she bore witness to the first batch of soul-remediation elixir, they were home free. The plague itself was as good as cured, but everything else would require Cira’s specially sorcerous touch. Soon the time to act would come. It was exciting and she was happy that everything would work out, but there were some who wouldn’t be so happy with her. She wouldn’t even have the chance for a proper goodbye. If there was one worry dragging her down, it was this.

This was the part of the job she dreaded most this time around. Cirina Dreadheart was good at turning ale into satisfaction, but little Cira was secretly hiding inside trying to stave off the impending future. Except for the captors, spirits seemed high. Everyone talked and laughed, singing victory until finally making it back to the Overlook at some god-awful hour of the night which never lifts.

“What’re we stopping here for?” Jimbo asked.

“Yeah, ain’t you had enough?” Baum added, “Can I go yet?”

“This is just where she took us, boys. If you want to walk back to Uru, go ahead, but Jimbo’s your captain now. Don’t look at me—” Cira trailed off as her eyes caught something far off in the distance, moving through the dark above the city. “Aha.”

“What?”

“I think I’ve found my boat.”

“Huh…?” Jimbo was confused like the others, staring off into the darkness. Only Delilah could imagine what she meant but couldn’t see anything either.

Cira held Tide Quencher aloft one last time and a strange light that defied the eyes shimmered from it. After a few minutes of drinking and being confused, her crew could see something come into view. Slowly, but surely, it turned out to be a small skiff. Jimbo thought it looked familiar, but far too fancy to be the one his acquaintance owned.

“I get ya,” he said, “Can never have too many boats, can ya’?”

“Seriously, Cirina?” James was aghast, “What’s that even going to do for you? The entire Black Scourge wasn’t enough to call it a night?”

Many of her crew were in disbelief at her insatiable desire to plunder, but eventually came around as their glasses filled. Soon the underside of the unsuspecting vessel grew closer, and they could see shining glyphs flickering around the sides with panicked shouts flowing down on them from above. Cira kept bringing it down until the frightened passengers could finally see into the cave opening to meet eyes with the pirates who would steal their vessel.

“Ello, love!” Cira unleashed her canned pirate line.

Her eyes met with Nanri’s, full of fear and confusion, the latter of which only intensified after inspecting her outfit and doing double-takes to Cira’s face. Kate was shriveled up in the back with Glasses, but to her credit had her boomerang ready. Lomp, Chip, and Triton all wore similar expressions that flittered between baffled and taking personal offense. They held their blessed silver at the ready, though they shivered at the thought of fighting something that wasn’t dead.

Before anyone could say anything further, Jimbo stepped forward and let his beer float into the air, drawing his blade. He put a hand on the fake pirate’s shoulder, “Sorry, kiddos. Yer boat’s property o’ Cirina Dreadheart now.”

“Cir… Cirina? What?” Nanri was struggling to process the scene when an unlikely hero saved the day.

“Holy shit!” Shirtless Joe stood up and shouted, “Is that you, Triton?!”

“Well god damn!” Triton lowered his spear, “I guess Cira roped you idiots into somethin’ too.”

“Cira…? That a nickname?” Jimbo asked to the wind.

“Cira why are you dressed like a pirate?!” Lomp had turned red, “And with a large group of pirates?! Inside a miniature pirate ship?! What the hell is this?!”

“Yeah…” Nanri cut in softly, “I am also confused…”

“You already know all these dudes?” it had even spread to Jimbo.

“I’ll explain this as succinctly as possible,” Cira cleared her throat and blew a strand of hair out of her face, “I, Cirina Dreadheart, just usurped and dissolved the Black Scourge pirates, seized their deritium operation, and sent a hundred pirates through the island urging people to swarm Uru for the cure. Most of these fellows here are my founding crew—”

She had to pause as they cheered, ale held high. “Crew, this would be my exorcists and the Titan Witch—”

“The goddamn what?!” James, Jimbo, Baum—any pirate in sight dove out or tried hiding. The sponge maidens shrank and curled up. She grinned at the two men who’d slept through it all. Cirina Dreadheart would never forget their contribution.

“Oh no, it’s okay!” Nanri nervously waved her hands, forming a pained smile on her face, “I’m a friend!”

They timidly turned around and gawked, glancing between her and Cira. Jimbo tipped his ale back and calmed down, “Just who are you, really?” His eyes were dumbstruck.

Meanwhile, Lomp rolled his and groaned, putting his hands out in front of him and doing an overly pompous impression, “Some call her the Hidden Witch. OOoooOOoooo.” Clearly trying to make fun of her, but the crew took it seriously.

“Holy crap! It makes so much sense now.”

“No wonder she can use pirate magic…” Shirtless Joe found his own truth.

The goons started fidgeting like they were ready to escape and everyone was on edge, not sure what to believe.

“Hang on,” Jimbo seemed to have just remembered something, “If you’re a witch and a pirate, why do you have a team of exorcists? You takin’ over the Dark Stratum? You some kinda dark sorcerer?”

That made her chuckle. Just one word off, “Close, but not quite. We’re turning ghosts into the cure, but that’s all I can say about it. But it seems we’ll be parting ways. It’s high time I get to the plague ward. I’ll give you guys a ride back down first, of course.” The Salty Songstress lurched towards the edge and over as her passengers screamed.

It died down as they realized they were smoothly being lowered down the cliffside, but then there was a small moment of silence as the three prisoners fell from the cliff and swung from the bottom like pendulums. Everybody winced like they expected them to clash together, but Cira was such a kind soul, she made sure they never collided.

The exorcists hurriedly followed, eventually floating side by side with them for the descent. Nanri leaned over when they got close and spoke to the pirate captain, “A-are you drinking alcohol? Where does it keep coming from?”

“I certainly am,” Cira smirked, “I’m conjuring it with pirate magic. Would you like some? You must be parched after all day in those salty tunnels.”

“Now that you mention it…” the uncertainty in Nanri’s bright blue eyes was beginning to disperse as she met Cira’s half-hearted banter. Nanri was at least mostly certain there was no such thing as pirate magic. “Maybe I have been in the tunnels too long… I’ve never tried alcohol though. Does it taste good?”

“Well, this here is ale,” Cira took a sip, “and not a particularly good one, from my understanding. What it lacks in taste it makes up for… eventually. Not a bad refreshment.”

She conjured a small teacup for Nanri and filled it. The Witch took a couple shallow sips and her face scrunched up, “Nope, it’s not for me. Pteh. Pteh” She made a silly noise each time she tried to spit the bitterness off her tongue. Cira laughed as she took the teacup away before drinking it herself.

With an oddly competitive glint in her eyes, Delilah scooted a little closer to Cira, turning her attention to Nanri, “Oh yeah… Well, I spend a lot of time in tunnels almost every day.”

Nanri gasped with a hand covering her mouth in an honest gesture of concern, “Oh no… By yourself?! Are there ghosts in them?”

“Uh, well… No.” Delilah shrunk back.

With a sigh, Nanri’s hand lowered until it rested softly over her chest, “My, that’s such a relief!” Her worried eyes were so sincere that Delilah could only cry on the inside.

Finally, they made it to the bottom and slunk closer to the outskirts of Uru. Cira stood up on the bow and addressed her men, “Well, this has been a fine voyage. Thanks for helping me find the treasure, and best of luck to you in your ventures. Remember, this island won’t be safe before long, so decide what you want to do for yourself by then.”

“About that,” Jimbo spoke, “You said somethin’ about givin’ everyone orders, but what are they, and what’s the signal?”

“You won’t be able to miss the signal, trust me. And the orders are for you to decide, assuming even half of those guys come back. If we meet again up there, perhaps I’ll have something else for ya’. Lant and the sponge maidens, you stay with me. Everybody else,” She made a salute to her men, “May the winds and weather be in your favor.”

They didn’t completely get it, but they knew it was time to go. Her crew would not soon forget their adventure with Cirina Dreadheart. Whether or not they would ever realize the fleet they were inducted into didn’t exist was a tale for another time.

“So, who are they?” Lomp asked, pointing to the confused prisoners.

“Haven’t decided yet, but at least one more exorcist. Also, we have here our alchemist.” Cira made a showy gesture with her hands to display Delilah, who blushed at the attention.

“Oh, yay!” Nanri clapped and showed a broad smile, “Welcome to the team!”