When the storm had passed, nearly four days had gone by in a tumult of howling wind and lashing rain. The palace grounds were nearly flooded in places, making it impossible for the soldiers to muster on the Green. Streets were muddy and the ringing of hammers echoed all around the royal city as the people set out to repair their homes and businesses once more. A few of the ships in the harbor had taken heavy damage, but as luck would have it, the three ships that would be joining the voyage to the Southern Oracle needed only minor carpentry. One of these was the Ophelia, one of Leiden’s few contributions to the shipbuilding industry. Years and years ago, it had been dedicated to the use of the Ambassador, and thus it had become Marisa’s home away from home many times. Its banners fluttered in the breeze—emerald green, bearing Leiden’s standard of a spear and a scroll. Marisa and Orris walked toward it on the pier, the muggy air wrapping around them and a few stray drops of rain occasionally dappling the velvet of Marisa’s cloak. This was the day they embarked as well, to sail to the oracle with the others.

“Has Anna gone with her brothers?” Marisa asked, turning to Orris as they made their way to the ship. “I was looking for her, but her room was empty.”

“It may be that she has gone with them, for the younger brother will be…joining the Princess, on board that ship. To seal the bargain.”

Marisa shook her head sadly. “What a terrible bargain to have made…” “Yes, but you must consider that it is necessary. He is necessary collateral, to ensure that the pirates do not go back on their word.” At this, Orris looked somewhat skeptical. “As if a pirate had any honor whatsoever…”

“You mustn’t say that, Orris. Anna has lived her life with them, and it could never be said of her that she lacks a sense of honor, or that she can’t be trusted.”

Orris made no reply, for they had reached the Ophelia. Although it had not been initially planned for the young Ambassador to sail to the Oracle’s island as well, all plans had been altered when Anna woke and heard the news. She refused to be left behind, insisting that if Luke was willing to gamble Jesse’s life in pursuit of this cure, that she would either go into the cabin with Jesse or be taken on the voyage as well. She would not rest until she knew that a cure truly existed. And Marisa refused to let Anna go—they had been separated long enough. So it was that the twins decided to join the fleet until the Oracle’s words had been heard, after which they would board the Ophelia and set their course for Guillare. There, they would finish what had been destined at their birth. They were far from sure as to what that would lead to, but they both agreed that it was time.

“Should we wait here, my Lady? Or would you rather row out to where they are?” Orris looked out from the Ophelia’s deck, motioning towards the distant figures afloat on the gray water. Marisa could see Anna and her brothers in a jolly boat near the Fever-ridden Matanza, no doubt saying goodbye. She turned away slowly, bowing her head.

“It would be best to let her say goodbye. I was not a part of that life, and I must not intrude. We should stay here and wait for her to come back.”

Anna was standing, wordlessly, on the rocking boat. Tears were still falling down her face, growing colder as they fell. Luke held up a hand in farewell as Jesse looked down at them from the deck of Matanza, the chill of death and disease a terrible aura around the entire ship. And now, Anna thought, it would swallow Jesse as well—her brave brother, for whom there might not even be a cure. The entire bargain sickened her. How could Luke just stand there, barely batting an eye? What did he know that she didn’t? Anna felt almost certain that there was something else there, that if she followed Luke closely enough, she would understand it. It had to be something more. Why else would the plan have been this way? They had vowed to stay together, a thousand times since they were young. They had promised that none of them would be left behind. But now Jesse was turning away, walking towards the cabin where the Princess and her dying betrothed were already being consumed by the Fever. He was walking away, her young and strong and kind brother. Would she ever see him walk out of that cabin again?

I don’t know what you’re thinking, Luke. But I’m going to find out. This plan of yours has something else to it. Unless…unless you truly have no heart left. Anna’s wintry stare was all that Luke could catch from the corner of his eye. Still, he made no sign that he was concerned, or that he even noticed. When Jesse was out of sight, he merely sat back down and began to row them back to shore. Clutching the cold metal of her locket, Anna continued to watch him, as though by doing so she could somehow untangle a mystery or discern the truth. The steady breeze slowly dried the tears that had been shed, and as they crossed the bay, the sorrow in her heart was gradually eclipsed by something else—a nameless fear.

It was late in the afternoon on the first day after the passing of the storm, when the four ships left Asphel Harbor and made their way to the island of the Southern Oracle. It would not be a particularly long voyage, although they would have to guide the ships through a particularly treacherous strait before they reached tiny Fann Village. The waters surrounding Khelia Island, where the Oracle’s tower still stood centuries after its creation, were a death-trap of jutting rocks and dangerous reefs. No ship could berth near that island, and so they would have to anchor all four vessels and row themselves across. Providing no storms hindered their passage, they would reach Fann Village in about three or four days at the most.

There was no fanfare and no herald to mark the beginning of that voyage. Only the Regent’s somber expression, her eyes glinting like steel in the clouded light. A procession of soldiers had trailed her from the palace, and they stood in rows on the damp boardwalk as those who would be embarking on the journey slowly boarded the ships. Few goodbyes were said, for it was not the tradition for sailors of the Navy to take wives or raise families for as long as they were bound to the Crown and the sea. Sam, the Corona’s steadfast captain, was one such man. His ship was one of the two chosen to sail as escort to the Pirate King, and the feeling of foreboding in his chest was slightly lightened by the knowledge that he had no family to be concerned for. He knew that nearly all the sailors departing with him had the same sense of dread. They could not explain it, but it was there.

It had been Sam who accompanied the Ophelia from Quinn Harbor, just two days after meeting Marisa and her loyal guard at the attack on the Trade Delegation. It had also been Sam who had warned Lee to take Anna out of the city before it was too late. He felt strangely bound to the two sisters, who stood together now at the bow of the Ophelia and whose hands were clasped as they looked on from behind the rail. But whether the odd misgivings had something to do with them, he couldn’t say.

As Sam was deep in his ponderings, Lee suddenly caught up to him and broke the chain of thoughts and worries. Sam nodded silently to his old friend, who nodded back in reply.

“Will you be boarding the Corona with me? Or have you been given orders to sail on Regina instead?” Sam asked.

“Neither. I’ll be on the Ophelia. The Ambassador’s knight suddenly called me into service.”

“Orris? Ah…I’ve never seen anyone do their job better than that old man. He would die for the Ambassador, if that was what it took to save her. And if anything could be said of him, it would be that while he may be outnumbered in a fight, he would never be outmatched.” Sam’s tone sounded of pure admiration, even reverence.

“I don’t doubt it,” said Lee, adjusting the heavy pack on his shoulder. “But I like to think I could hold my own, as well.”

“Do you feel it too, then? It’s just this odd sense we’ve all got. I smell blood.”

“I don’t know. But I’m ready for it, whatever it may be.”

The gloomy daylight of the afternoon deepened into an evening strangely swept free of the heavy clouds that had obscured the sky. Anna crept out of her narrow bunk on board the Ophelia, pulling her father’s heavy captain’s jacket closer and venturing out to the quiet deck. Above, in the crow’s nest, a single light was shining. Whose watch it was, she couldn’t say. Behind her, Marisa’s muffled footsteps sounded faintly on the wooden planks.

“It’s colder than I thought it would be…” whispered Marisa, her face obscured by the ever-present green velvet hood. She moved cautiously out onto the deck, her feet moving in rhythm with the sway of the ship beneath. Anna didn’t answer. She had moved to the middle and was lying on her back, eyes open, face turned up towards the sky. Marisa sat down next to her, a bit baffled as to why her sister was lying spread-eagled on the cold wood, but soon achieving complete understanding as she too turned her gaze to the sky.

It was an endless sea of stars, reaching to the end of everything. There were no words to describe it, the way it seized the heart and the soul, sending them plunging upward and out and far away. The immensity was unfathomable. Anna closed her eyes momentarily, breathing deep, knowing only the comfortable solidity of the deck underneath her and the indescribable feeling of being so small, merely a brief flicker of light in that universe. It was something she had only experienced once before, and she had been very young then. Wandering to the beach alone, she had found her brothers scheming about a jollyboat carelessly left afloat on the rising tide…

They were there in the midnight dark, the island’s nocturnal life blooming all around them, the waves an unending crescendo on the sand at their feet. Anna had begged to be included, threatening mutiny and shameless weeping otherwise. So it was that elder brother relented and younger brother became co-conspirator. The three were soon adrift on a moonlit sea, watching with wide eyes as the lights of the pirates’ homecoming party slowly became tiny pinpricks of light on the shore. Lost in a sudden snap of fear, Jesse began to cry. Luke, ever the responsible party, was momentarily at a loss. He had never considered the part where they would be out in the boat, on the ocean, without oars. It had been for the thrill of it, and the thrill of it alone. Wrestling with the impulse to give up and cry himself, Luke lifted his chin and tried to blink the coming tears away.

And that was when he saw the sky.

Such wonder, such intense, wordless joy; the feeling was boundless, a miracle. Luke remembered it clearly and completely, despite the passage of time and ever-changing circumstance. On the deck of Reina, the last of his father’s three proud ships, Luke leaned now against the mast, oblivious to the flapping of the sails and the creaking of the ropes, and even the sound of the ocean all around him. He was gone, ten years old, Anna inquisitive at eight and Jesse only four, small fingers holding tightly to his own. The rowboat was infinitesimal, the hearts of the three children a faint beating pulse woven into something greater, something that would continue in a world full of life that must eventually end.

He remembered. In that moment, in that place and time, he too was endless. They were all endless. And quietly, they had linked arms and shut their eyes and there—there, in that moment, Luke had known. He had known what was ultimately the most precious.

“I don’t know if he’s changed…it’s as if a small part of him is still there, and I see it sometimes if I look hard enough. It’s there, but then it vanishes.” Anna was still lying there, the last strains of the memory fading out, even as Luke stood with arms crossed and good eye shut against the mast and watched it ebb out of his mind too. Marisa was somber, fingers twined in the golden chain on which her locket was strung.

“I think…that your brother is still your brother…that something so strong could never truly be overshadowed or cast aside, even with everything that has happened. You know him best, better than me…the answer is already there, in your heart. You would feel it and hear it and taste it and know it, if his heart changed…because your own heart would realize it. And it would tell you. At least…I feel that it would. You three…are bound together. It can’t change, Anna.”

“I’m just afraid…that Luke will forget us…”

“No…he could never forget.”

Anna sat up, leaned quietly on her twin’s shoulder. “I…I hope so. It’s what I’ll keep believing. That he won’t let Jesse die…that he knows what he’s doing. Just like he’s always known. That he’ll still be Luke, the Luke that I know and love and remember.”

Worry and doubt flashed across the features of Marisa’s upturned face, but she took care that her sister did not notice. “I’ll believe it with you,” she said, gently. “I’ll believe it, until the end.”