Never had the nights at sea felt so cold. Still, Elodie lingered above-decks at the prow, where she and Kas had shared the night just one day prior. How quickly the tides had turned and the winds had shifted. To try and sleep tonight—she was sure that she couldn’t.

She wasn’t sure exactly how long she had been sitting there when she heard boots drop down beside her, as softly as a cat’s paws.

“Ventus.”

“I thought I might find you here.” He lingered for a moment before he slowly dropped down next to her. “Since this was his favorite place.”

“I just can’t believe he left like that.” Elodie frowned. “Just earlier that morning, he was struggling to create a flame.”

“Something’s off about the book that he took.” Ventus looked to her, and she could feel his teal-gray eyes studying her carefully. “I’ve heard stories of sailors who dabbled in black magic. The stories went like that—the evil spells, those are easier to tap in for some reason.”

“I just don’t understand it.” Elodie ran a hand through her hair. “He had revenge, he could have just left with us, he’d still have everything that he wanted.”

“Not everything.” Ventus shook his head. “But Galen Mirandola, he said that royal kids are like that. They want everything, all the power they can. That’s who they were born to be.”

“I don’t think that’s it.” Elodie thought of what Kas had told her up here, not all that long ago. “I think he’s never really had a home, for all the palaces and mansions he might have lived in. And he thinks he never could have one, even though there is one here, even though I—“

She broke off, remembering how not so long ago, she had hoped something more might have developed between Ventus and herself.

Ventus’s eyes turned pitying. “You love him.”

Her face felt as if it had been set on fire. She turned away, but that couldn’t hide the blush spreading up her cheeks, as red as her hair. “I told him that he could live in the house in Port Augustine, when this was all over.”

He shook his head. “You sure know how to pick them.”

He paused, then tilted his head. “Why him?”

There was a silent, unasked question after that. Why not me?

“I suppose I always had this idea of a Prince Charming, of being swept off my feet.” It was somewhat embarassing to admit. “I never thought it would happen, as I got older. But he was so charming, and the pursuit was fun. And then there was the party at Mrs. Hawkins’s mansion—“

“It’s because he danced with you, isn’t it?” Ventus spoke slowly, as if he were trying to understand.

Elodie looked back to him, as much as it hurt to do so. “It’s not just that, Ventus. He—I—“

She paused and looked forward, off to the sea as she tried to reformulate her thoughts. “He knows my world, Ventus—or at least the one I want to live in. He knows how to play the part of the gentleman, not just the pirate. I can’t stay on the high seas and low skies, when this is all over. I—I’m not my father’s daughter. I am not my mother. I’m not like my grandfather either—but I’m somewhere in-between. And I would like to have a home, to have parties of my own, to know where I belong in the world.”

“You could belong here.” It was a plea, as futile as both of them knew it was. “No one would care that you were a bastard, nearly all of us are. And you could see a world so much bigger than the port city, you could be so much more than some lady in a house. And. . . ”

He trailed off as he met her eyes, again an unspoken question, a plea.

. . . And you could be with me.

She opened her mouth to speak, but she struggled to find the words, to say what she wanted to say.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“It’s alright.” He turned away, looking to the sea ahead after a long silence. “You’re right, if you wanted to go back to Port Augustine at the end—then it wouldn’t have worked between us. I’m not meant for that kind of life.”

“I’m sorry,” she managed, finally. “I care for you. Truly.”

“I know.” He looked back at her with a sad smile. “I still care for you, too.”

“It doesn’t have to change anything, you know.” She spoke softly. “Or at least, not much.”

He considered this a moment, tilting his head in the quiet. “I suppose not.”

He looked back to her and extended his hand to hers. “I’m still your man, Elodie Fleetwood.”

“Good.” She grinned, accepting it. “After all, we make a great team.”

“Aye.” The smile turned less sad, more genuine. “I suppose we do.”

They then looked over the horizon. Occasionally, Elodie could see the silhouettes of other ships skimming over the waves or floating low in the sky. She wondered if any of them were the Morgenstern.

She thought a silent prayer to the Lady of Shallow Waters, to the Lady of Desolation, to any of the gods and goddesses of the sea that one of them might protect Kas Beaumont from his own stupidity.

“Up here, are we?”

Jade plopped down on Elodie’s other side. “I miss him too, you know.”

Elodie and Ventus looked to her.

She decidedly took this as permission enough to continue him.

“For a long time—two years, nearly—he was the only kid my age here.” Jade looked out the horizon, but not as if she were truly seeing the horizon. “We spent a lot of time together, playing cards and watching the gulls and when we’d go on land or see the girls on the Vanity Fair, he—“

She turned pink and her green eyes darted to Elodie nervously. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I don’t even care about the Morgenstern or Madigan. They deserve it—but I think he’s in more trouble than he realizes.”

“We can agree on that.” Elodie spoke softly, reaching out to take her hand as well. The three were linked, in a chain.

Jade’s blush deepened. “I suppose so.”

The three of them drifted into an awkward sort of silence.

That was when Elodie heard it.

Unmistakably, the sound of siren song.

She turned to Ventus. “We’re not in siren territory, are we?”

“I mean, all of the seas are theirs.” He shrugged, then he frowned. “But you’re right—they aren’t usually this close to Cartagena, with all their ships and cities.”

Jade’s face went white. “I have to—I can’t—“

Elodie grabbed a hold on her arms. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

“It might not be trying to lure us, it’s close enough already—“ Ventus leapt to his feet, scanning around the hull of the Albatross. He then turned to Elodie. “Get Jade below-decks, find Carina, and we’ll then use one of the smaller boats.”

Before he could do that, however, there was a shimmer of light and a swell of song. Elodie tightened her grip on Jade—but Jade made no move to jump.

For standing now on the prow was none other than the siren.

Elodie loosened her grip, but not much.

She’d heard stories of the sirens who walked the land, the daughters of the tide, they and their children were called. But Elodie had always thought those to just be that—stories. Standing before her was the proof that this wasn’t impossibility.

The siren was impossibly beautiful, dressed in iridescent silk and dripping with pearls, her dark hair framed by a headdress with apparatus like fins and a tiara. Silver scales on her arms and cheeks betrayed her true form as a siren, with stormy eyes like the seas and a fatally beautiful, coy smile.

“We’ve been trying to find you for a while, Little Brother.” The siren smiled as if this was some kind of joke. “Our mother wanted to thank you for what you did for our sister, Lyra.”

Ventus raised his eyebrows. “You mean the siren we rescued from the Windward Isles?”

“Who else would it be?” She laughed like the tinkling of bells. “Mother wishes to see you. She has learned of your mission, and would like to give you aid. Think of it as a gift.”

“Mother?” Ventus blinked.

The siren tilted her head. “Didn’t Lyra tell you? We share the same mother, Ventus. Corisande, yes?”

“She mentioned it, but. . .”

“I see.” The siren nodded. “Mother will make all things clear.”

She then withdrew from her pocket a compass made of gold, with pieces of turquoise and white shells embedded into it.

Ventus stepped forward tentatively to receive it. The siren placed it into his hands. He stared at it a long while before looking back up to her, a silent request.

“It will direct you to Mother’s palace in the Merrowlands, in our territory.” She gave a sharklike grin, showing her teeth—but it wasn’t so sinister of a smile as Elodie would have expected. “You and your friends will be granted safe passage, as promised.”

She then stepped back, and glanced over at the water. She then looked back to Ventus, her long hair fluttering in the wind.

“It would be best not to dally, Ventus,” she warned. “Mother doesn’t like waiting. And she will not make a second offer of aid.”

With that, the siren then dove overboard, and disappeared before their very eyes.

Elodie waited a long while still before she finally let go of Jade, who said nothing. Rather, the pirate girl looked rather flushed. She stumbled away, saying something about being unwell. Elodie let her go, and turned to Ventus, who was examining the compass the siren had given him.

“I suppose I should go tell Captain Jennings, then?”

Ventus looked up, blinking widely, as if he hadn’t realized that Elodie was still there.

“I’ll go with you.” He pocketed the compass, then glanced over at the water again. “I suppose we have a detour before supplies and the next key.”