Salem awoke with a start, as someone dropped something heavy near the large crate he was napping on.

“Come on sleepy head,” Gemma barked at him. “You’re supposed to be helping move stuff on to the ship.” Somewhere else nearby, a group of gulls erupted into yet another fest of squawking.

Salem sat up grumpily and rubbed his eyes. He groaned. “That’s what the crew’s for.”

Gemma put her hands on her hips. “We are the crew. When on board the ship every man and woman and child pulls their own weight. No exceptions. Come on.” She kicked his crate roughly then spun away to continue with the loading.

If Salem had been more awake and up to dealing with her, he might have told her that she ‘sounded just like dad,’ except Sirius would never speak quite so brusquely. They were his words though.

Salem groaned at the glare of the sun in the clear blue sky above. It had been too much, he supposed, to wish for a thrilling storm to delay their sailing or at the very least make things interesting. He did not regret his short night of slumber, for it would be at least a week before he could play his game again. He sighed. This was going to be the longest week of his life. He was certain of it. There was nothing to look forward to but days of overwhelming boredom and pestering seagulls, not to mention his siblings.

Gemma took to her job of moving her small crates with vigor. Alas, there were only so many little ones before it became far more efficient to pack things together in larger crates. Ones far too heavy for a 15-year old girl to lift.

Even the crew required the aid of a winch and crane to lift most of these into the hold. From there, strongarm witches, like her father were needed to shift them into the furthest corners, to make space for new crates to be loaded in.

She paused near the open hold and watched as her father and another crew member, a big burly blonde man named Alice, shifted a crate that weighed probably five times their combined weight.

“Gemma, keep away from the hold,” her mother called from across the deck.

Her mother, dressed in jeans and collarless loosely plaid, blue and white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, stood holding a clipboard and pen. She was taking itinerary as the crates were being lowered, noting down the writing on the sides so they knew what they had on board. Somewhere else on the ship, Bobby was doing a similar task for the smaller crates.

Gemma rolled her eyes but she stepped back away from the gaping hole in the deck. She thought about going and finding a couple of swords and challenging her brother to a duel. He must be almost done marking off the small crates by now.

She headed down into the belly of the ship, past the medicine room and crew’s quarters. Past her parent’s cabin. Past the one she would share with her sisters. The one with four bunks and almost no floor space. It didn’t matter though. Gemma didn’t intend to spend her time hiding out in her cabin. She was looking forward to practicing her sparring, and getting more tips from her dad, who was often away at sea and who was a shrewd swordsman. But even if Sirius was too busy and Bobby didn’t want to practice, there were still plenty of crew who she was sure she could wheedle a session or two from.

Just as Gemma was about to head down her second flight of stairs, she heard the sweet sound of music coming from the ship’s mess room. The sound of a lyre and a voice she recognised.

“Shiv!” Gemma cried with glee as she rounded the corner of the galley to the see the ship’s quartermaster, a wiry but muscular man named Shiv, sitting at a wooden table long enough to feed almost 40 men. Shiv was much older than her parents, and he was a little intimidating to look at. Not because of his size, for he was not an unusually large man, but his eyes were dark, almost black in colour, similar to that of his hair which was tied back in a loose and low-fixed ponytail, and he had a scar that ran from right cheek to chin. His teeth were jagged and he fiddled with a knife as he sang. But Gemma knew him well, and she was not afraid of him. She was not afraid of anyone.

Beside him, perched on top of the table, another man, much younger and fair-haired, casually picked at the strings of a lyre. Gemma knew him as well too. A regular crewman, and the ship’s unofficial musician.

“Neko!” Gemma greeted the other man and grinned widely at them both.

“Gemma!” Shiv stopped his song. His voice was neither pretty nor in tune but he sang with such enthusiasm and gusto that it always propelled others to join in the raucous chorus. Gemma always found him lots of fun, and he knew some of the best games.

“Five finger fillet?” she offered the challenge with excitement at seeing the knife in his hand.

Beside Shiv, Neko’s friendly smile of greeting fell into a frown at the suggestion. He knew what the captain thought of that game.

Shiv’s eyes twinkled. It was his favorite game but like Neko, he knew the captain would not approve. “Now Gemma, didn’t I tell you what happened the first time your mum played that game with me?” he warned.

Gemma squared her shoulders and raised her chin in the air. “Yes, I’ve heard that story almost a thousand times,” she retorted with a roll of the eyes. “About how she almost lost a finger.” Then she fixed Shiv with a stubborn glare. “But I’m much better than she was. I’ve got much better control!” ‘At least at that,’ Gemma thought, her mind briefly straying to thoughts of flames and how much more adept her mother was at controlling those.

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“Aye, but you haven’t played the master. It’s easy enough to practise on your own when you don’t have some competitor driving you to go faster than you should.”

Gemma’s green-eyes almost seemed to darken. She’d seen Shiv play the game many times, stabbing the dagger into the table between each finger, fast and hard, faster than anyone else could. She longed to play against him. She knew she could not win. He was too fast. But winning did not matter, she just wanted a chance to play against the best, to see how well she could do. No matter how many times she asked though, he always said no.

“You are just like your mother,” Shiv remarked at seeing the expression on her face.

Gemma frowned at that. Why did no one ever say she was just like her father?

Shiv chuckled.

“How about a song?” Neko lifted up a guitar that had been lying on the table next to him. “I hear you’re pretty good.”

Gemma eyed it. Yet another thing her mother was better at. She did like playing the guitar though. She didn’t quite have her mother’s intuition for beat, nor her voice, but she could hold a tune just fine, and she did enjoy it. “Alright.” Gemma joined Neko on the table and she started to strum a new song, one she had learned recently.

After awhile, Neko, who had a good ear for music, joined in, creating a layered harmonic melody with the help of his lyre.

Some way through the 5th verse, Gemma felt some new eyes on her, and she glanced up to see her mother standing in the doorway. Amanda leaned against the door frame, relaxed stance with her arms loosely crossed, and it looked like she’d been watching for awhile.

“Don’t stop on my account.” Amanda spoke with a kind smile.

“Do you want to join in?” Neko asked. He held up his lyre.

“Oh, I’m no good at the lyre.” Amanda shook her head.

Gemma’s shoulders sagged, a little disappointed at the refusal. Her mother was an amazing musician, and music was one of the few things she felt like they both understood, plus Gemma loved a little friendly competition.

“Liar.” Neko flashed a smile, then turned and pulled another guitar from the seat on the other side of the table. “How about this then?”

Gemma’s eyebrows raised. She never failed to be surprised at the number of instruments that Neko always had around him. How did he carry them all from place to place? Did he just stash them around the ship? From her perch on top of the table she could see his favorite instrument, a battered red accordion, peaking out from under the bench seat.

Amanda took a step forward, but just as she held out an hand to take Neko’s other guitar, the ship gave a sudden lurch.

Amanda dropped her arm and glanced upward. “We’re off,” she remarked. Then turning back to Neko with a smile she spoke, “Maybe later.” Then she left to go and find Sirius.

Amanda found him up on deck, staring out at an endless sparkling ocean. His long, dark, leather coat hid most of his body from her. The coat was shabby and well worn but she suspected it had been designed that way. It was bullet proof and fire proof, one of the few long-term magic infused items they owned. To look at it, one would never guess it’s value. This subtlety made it an unlikely target for a thief. That and the fact that Sirius hardly ever took it off. It had more than a practical value too though, Sirius having inherited it from the previous Captain of the ship.

He turned as he heard Amanda’s low heeled boots approaching. She’d never been able to sneak up on him. As he turned she noticed he’d strapped his sword to his side. Now that they were headed out to sea it was a useful thing to have nearby. Amanda had never been particularity good with the sword, but she didn’t need to be, not with her fire magic. All the same, she kept a small dagger in an ankle sheath, more for cutting ropes in an emergency than anything else, and a pistol in her cabin, just in case.

“You’re not steering?” she asked.

He shook his head once in answer, and then a second time to clear the black strands of hair out of his eyes. “Pierre’s got it for now. Weather is fair and the wind is at our backs. It’s sure to be smooth sailing for awhile yet. I’ll take over later.” He turned back to face the sea as she joined him at the railing.

“You should get some sleep then.”

Another shake of the head. “I’ll sleep in tomorrow. If this weather holds, and Shiv reckons it will, we might just make it to Rambandit a day early. How do you like that, two days sailing instead of three?” He winked at her.

She gave a laugh. “Well I think Salem will be overjoyed at least.” She hadn’t failed to notice the boy’s disappointment at the lack of electronics on board.

As she leaned in close, he wrapped one arm around her in a tight hug, and then, with his eyes on the horizon, in a deep voice, he began to softly sing,

“Fast and free,

It’s the open sea,

That calls forth for me,

And southward bound,

We make our way,

Following the sound.

Her call is sweet.

Her voice is deep,

With a rhythm that likes to sway,

From top to trough,

We dip and dive,

To the sound of the sea.”

“Not much dipping and diving today,” she remarked.

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” was the reply.

Somewhere high above them, Sasha perched in the crow’s nest, watching the birds, and listening to her father sing. She liked when he sung. He was so very good. She wondered if his voice might bring the birds down. They’d lost some of the seagulls, and the birds that flew overhead now were much larger. She wished they’d come down close so she could see them better.

She’d been feeling sad earlier about the loss of the baby dragon. She’d been so thrilled when Bobby had first shown her the egg. Her first, and none of their other siblings. It was, she figured, because Bobby knew how desperately she wanted a puppy. Bobby would like one himself, she was sure of that too. But dogs were more work than horses, especially pet ones. They got attached and it wasn’t fair to leave them with a stranger all the time. That was what her parents had said at least.

Sasha thought that was silly, she was pretty sure the horses got attached to their people as well. Her own horse always seemed happy to see her, and besides, it was usually only her dad who was away on the ship all the time. Trips like this, where they all went, were rare. And so Sasha treasured this, being with everyone, and just being out here, up high. She liked the wind in her hair and how she could see so far in all directions. The movement of the waves transfixed her gaze, and the birds up above were a beautiful sight to behold. She felt like the whole world was laid out at her feet.

Sasha stayed like that up in the crow’s nest right up until dinner time. And the next day too. While Bobby and Gemma sparred with swords on the deck below, and Salem tried to get some of the crew to take bets on who would win. She was up in the crow’s nest so much that it was she who caught the first sight of land, and she tried to tell them, she truly did, but her voice was so quiet, and unused to yelling, that it wasn’t until her 5th shout that others heard what she was trying to say. But once they did, a shout went up all over deck.

“Land Ho! Rambandit ahead!”