The lab was vast, white and sterile, with only a few blotches of color on the screens and keyboards accompanying the racks and machines. A hologram of an intricate, three-dimensional map hovered in the middle of the room above a projection table. The islands and continents were shown in great detail, with dozens of little labels blinking above the landmarks.
With a swirling movement of his hands, he turned the model a bit to reach the southern part. There, fragmented little islands gave way to a blurred line that was labeled "unknown continent".

"That's it? That's the final version of Chirona?"

He jumped at the voice. His sister had sneaked into the room and now hugged him from behind to look over his shoulder. her honey-red curls caressed his cheek.

"Yes. It's almost finished. We're on time for going online in a few weeks. But Father and I are still debating how the fail safe should work." He pointed at the blurred line. "And we need to take the visible magical elements out for good. The test subjects all reacted badly to it. And it's too buggy."

"But I loved the sirens!" she protested. "You can't delete them. And they're not bothering anyone if they stay hidden."

"Father reminded me this isn't a game, as if I didn't know," he replied and turned the model around again. "I'll keep the sirens, but they stay deep down in the ocean. That way, we could activate the cheat I told you about, if ever needed. Programming all that later won't be possible once the whole thing is running for good. So we have to build in a few ways to manipulate the world without upsetting the whole program."

His sister hugged him tighter. "Do you think Mum would have agreed?" she asked softly. "To the Chirona project, I mean. Are we really creating a better way to keep people imprisoned? They don't have a chance to rehabilitate themselves in there."

He patted her arms that were slung around his shoulder. "They can make choices for their own lives in there they could never make in a prison. And what happened to Mum... and us... will never happen to anyone again. She would have wanted that."

They watched the model in silence for a while. Finally, his sister let go of him. "Sorry, I forgot the time. I'm going to help out in a soup kitchen as part of my social work studies this semester. I can't be late on my first day."

He turned around. "Be careful. Those places aren't in the best parts of the city."

"Hey, don't worry. I've been learning kung fu for years now, remember?" She stopped at the door. "You should come with me. We could go clubbing afterwards. You need to meet some real people, not just your AIs. And I'm only seeing you when I come here!"

He smiled at her. "Sorry, I still have a ton of work to do. I promise to make it up to you when this is over and done with."

"You always say that!" She giggled and left the lap.

He turned back to the hologram. He really hadn't spent enough time with his sister these past few years. But all of this would change. Once the Chirona project was running, they would have all the time in the world together.

***

Alastair's head hurt we he woke up, like he had drunken too much rum. He could have stayed in bed all day despite his habit of an early riser and light sleeper in general. But those dreams... Alastair could never remember any details in the morning, just the feeling of a very strange place that was, while dreaming, familiar and normal. Maybe it was another way of reminding him how little time was left for him to do what he had to do.

He sat up in bed and looked down on his chest where the scales glittered in the light of dawn. He wasn't freezing anymore - thanks to Nico, no, Nicolas last night - but the scales remained slightly colder to the touch than the rest of his skin. He would never forget the moment when the very first scale had appeared on the back of his left hand after using the powers for the first time. He didn't remember being ever truly afraid again afterwards.

Slowly, Alastair stood up and looked amidst the chaos of the room for some clothes to pull on. He would send for Dao later to clean up in here while he was taking a bath. Without a thought, he took a fresh bandage from the clothes chest and started to wrap it around his left hand before he realized that it wasn't necessary. He didn't have to hide anything anymore. Everyone aboard the Siren's Call knew the truth about him now.

He couldn't forget Nicolas' shocked face as he had realized what Alastair really was. No, it truly wasn't simple anymore.

Alastair didn't like one bit what he was thinking. Slowly, he unwrapped the bandage and folded the cloth to put it back in the chest. All these years while he had used the power he had never fooled himself into thinking that someday, he wouldn't need it anymore. The fight would never be over. There would always be more storms to calm, more enemies to sink, more treacherous waters to navigate. Harrison had said that the Akaluite island with the last artifact would only be reached with the help of a tideheart. And Alastair surely would not put himself into that shady man's debt.

But the sirens wouldn't let him go the next time.

Alastair looked out the aft window. A few seagulls hovered over the water and indicated that land wasn't far away. The ocean's surface was calm and blue. Beyond the familiar noises of the ship and the faint squawking of the seagulls, he thought he could hear someone calling out to him. Faint, gentle sounds, like the lullabies his mother had sung to him as a little child. The longer he tried to shut them out, the louder they got. It was like an invisible string that pulled him toward the water. The strong, salty breeze carried the call like a promise.

"Damn, what are you doing?"

Alastair felt strong arms pull him back from the window. He couldn't remember going over to it, opening it, and leaning out.

Nicolas pulled him a few steps back and held him close, a deep frown on his handsome face. He smelled of soap and shaving cream, solid and real. "Your sister suggested I moved in with you to keep an eye on you. I guess that's a very good idea."

If this hadn't been such a dire situation, Alastair might have laughed at the serious declaration. He opened his mouth to tell Nicolas that he didn't need a guardian. But Evangielle might be right. He hadn't come this far to just give in now and jump into the ocean. The memory of red hair in the wind, so much like his own, made him shudder.

"Very well, then. Tell Lucky to nail this window shut, as well as the windows in the war room." Alastair quickly disentangled himself from the embrace.

Nicolas let go of him immediately and raised his hands as if he had been burned. "You weren't going to jump, were you?" he asked. "What happened?"

Alastair had no answer to that. His head was clear again, and the headache was gone. "They are called sirens for a reason," he said softly. "We... I have to be on guard."

Nicolas raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on it. "I'm to tell you that we've nearly reached Calez," he said instead. "M'Bato and Lucky have assessed the damage from the storm. It's minor, but we need to do some repairs in Llanos before we continue." He paused. "Although the rum is still bad there, I guess."

The memory of their first meeting in Llanos was almost enough to make Alastair smile. "At least I won't have to go anywhere to find decent company."

The way that Nicolas briefly bit his lip at these words tempted Alastair to kiss him. Kissing had always been overrated and far too private for Alastair's taste. But with Nicolas, it was different. That man was getting under his skin far too quickly.

"I'll go take a bath. If it's not too inconvenient, I'll like you to escort me," he said and shoved that last thought away again. "And... thank you."

Nicolas didn't even have the decency to hide his smile.

***

The small, shabby port of Llanos was still the same since Nicolas had been there on his search for the pirates, only a lot hotter and more humid as the summer had went on. had it been some weeks or months ago? He couldn't really remember, but it it almost seemed to be a whole lifetime now. The life aboard the Siren's Call had become normal in a way he had never thought possible.

Nicolas had left the ship along with the others and had volunteered to run some small errands for John Gold so Dao got some free time to explore the port. John had told him to get some fresh black pepper from a warehouse further down the docks since his spice stock had gotten wet during the storm. Conveniently, the warehouse also housed the town's mail office.
This was a perfect chance to get a secret message to Admiral Morton. There would be no other way before they reached Caera and Albia.

The problem was that Nicolas had no idea what he should write. He hadn't learned yet to read the secret charts. He didn't have the coordinates of the Fortune Atoll. And he surely didn't have a pirate captain willing to serve the empress. There was nothing to be told. Looking back, Commander Nicolas Gordon had failed in his mission so far. Nicolas caught himself thinking of the man he used to be as a completely different person. Was there really anything left?

Of course he was still that man. He still wanted to serve his empire and bring order to the seven seas.

But he could not betray Alastair Blake and his crew.

Nicolas stopped in his tracks as this thought burned in his mind, cear and sharp and without any hesitation. What ever he was about to do, he would have to be honest with Alastair without getting killed on the spot. And that didn't make it any easier.

He took a deep breath which wasn't much use in the humid air and continued on his way. The warehouse, a big building made of uneven stones and a crooked wooden roof, was just around the next corner. Suddenly, Nicolas saw a familiar, well-dressed figure among the dirty crowd. Dan Harrison was just exiting the warehouse. If he had bought something in there, it was small enough to fit into a coat pocket.

Harrison hadn't seen him yet. Nicolas pressed himself against the entrance of a building he was about to pass and watched Harrison stroll down the street, back into the direction of the quays where the long-boats were made fast. When he was sure that Harrison had gone, Nicolas made his way over to the warehouse.

A small counter stacked with various little bags of spices and stacks of paper stood right behind the door. The rest of the room was completely filled with crates, large sacks and barrels of all sizes, some of them stacked hazardously high up to the ceiling. A small, elderly man in an ink-stained overcoat greeted him. Nicolas could have sworn for a moment that this man had triplet brothers managing the navy warehouses respectively in Landfall and Brighthaven. But that was impossible, of course.

"Good morning. I need a bag of black pepper," Nicolas finally remembered his task.

The vendor gave him a little bag. "That's three gold moons, Sir. Anything else you need?"

"Well, there's one more thing. Did the well-dressed gentleman who was in here moments ago post a letter?"

The vendor stiffened. "I don't think the business of other gentlemen is of any concern to you, Sir."

Nicolas put four gold moons on the table. He would repay John later somehow. "I think it is. You see, that gentleman and I are interested in the same young lady. I'd like to know if he wrote to her."

Inky fingers quickly grabbed the small golden orbs before they could roll off the counter. "I understand. The gentleman did post a letter, but it wasn't meant for a woman. It's addressed to his old father who happens to live here in Calez as a merchant. I actually have business dealings with him." The vendor reached under the counter and presented a bunch of letters. The one at the top sealed with wax and clearly addressed to a George Harrison, spice merchant, living in Caleziva, the republic's capital.

"Thank you." Nicolas pocketed the pepper. He had to believe that story for now.

"Anything else, Sir? Do you have a letter to post, maybe to your young lady?" the vendor asked eagerly. "I have some very fine parchment and ink here, if you like."

Nicolas hesitated. "Thank you for the offer, but not today. Goodbye."

No, there was nothing to write. But he would tell Alastair about Harrison's letter.
As soon as he opened the door to leave, Evangielle all but fell into his arms. She had been about to enter the warehouse and lost her balance. Nicolas caught her.

She grinned. "Not so fast, mate!"

The vendor cleared his throat. "Good day, Mistress. What can I do for you?"

"I'll come back later," she told the vendor. "Come on, Nico, the galley needs those spices."

Nicolas felt the vendor's knowing grin in his back as he was pulled out of the building and found himself on the street the next moment. Evangielle held onto his arm.

"Harrison went in there," she said softly as they had walked a few steps away. "Did you see him?"

"Yes. I asked the vendor what he was doing in there. He posted a letter to his father who lives here in Calez. I saw the address. It was genuine." He hesitated. "And what did you want in there?"

"Frankly put, I followed you following him. I needed to know if you posted a letter as well." Her eyes, black-rimmed with kohl, were sharp and clear in the shadow of her hat brim. Nicolas noticed that she was wearing bright blue today, with a matching tricorn and a thin, short-sleeved blouse that was already translucent with sweat. No wonder the vendor got ideas.

"No, I didn't. You can ask the man in there. I thought about writing to my mother, but I don't want her to know what I'm doing. She could get into trouble." So Evangielle wasn't trusting him fully yet, despite her drunken words yesterday. Nicolas reminded himself not to underestimate the young woman again.

She patted her arm. "Good thinking. The less people know, the safer we are. And speaking of safety: I'm glad you're moving in with my brother. He told me what happened this morning. By the Sea Goddess.... I didn't know it would be this bad. Now you saved his cursed life twice in two days."

"I was lucky to be there in time. But I hope it won't be necessary again."

Evangielle squeezed his arm and just nodded, but he knew she didn't believe it to be the last time. And neither did he.